Mom's Guide to the Galaxy

Demolition!

One of my goals for the year (that I didn’t list here) was to demolish and replace the shed that came with my house. We’ve known since we moved in that it would have to go eventually – the base board is supported by a few bricks rather than a foundation, the doors didn’t quite fit together when they closed, and one side of the roof had retained moisture to the point where it grew mushrooms along with other molds. And that wasn’t the side where water dripped in!

When I opened the shed in the spring, I discovered that somebody had been living in it over the winter, courtesy of a hole dug through the far wall. This, on top of the many hard to spot hornet or yellow jacket nests (all abandoned by this point) was the tipping point. The yellow jackets were a problem the first summer here, leading to this little tidbit one morning:

“So this morning, I took a big bucket of soapy water outside after layering up really well and proceeded to totally whiff when flinging the water at the shed door. I aimed too low. On the plus side, I didn’t disturb any of them, so I was able to refill the bucket and try again.”

The yellow jackets had built nests on the inside of both shed doors, which made retrieving gardening supplies … nerve-wracking. Having discovered them just after a trip to Menard’s, I looked online for options other than bug spray, and found out that soapy water adheres to their wings and prevents them from flying, even once it’s dry. And the water dissolves the nest.

Now, three summers later, we finally reached the demolition stage. The upper left photo shows the roof after I started peeling shingles off – the wood was damaged enough it was breaking during the process. The upper right photo was taken during the fun process involving a pry bar and sledgehammer, with a controlled approach to make sure the shed fell into the garden rather than the neighbor’s fence. The bottom two photos are the remnants, with the smaller pieces lined up against the wall waiting for the city’s semi-annual trash day; the big pieces will take a couple people to move. The base board will come up as well – there’s a rotted section just before the bricks.

The bricks? Yes, those came with the house too, hidden behind the shed… who knows how long they’ve been stored there. I have plans for them, though not for the rolled up fencing that’s entangled with raspberries at the moment.

Brookfield ZooRunRun 2019

It’s five-thirty on a Sunday morning. I woke before my alarm, pre-heated the oven, and showered before feeding the cats. In fact, the oven beeps to tell me it hit three-fifty as I walk back into the kitchen surrounded by the offended felines. I grab the tray of sausage biscuits – prepped the night before – from the fridge, shove them in the oven, and move towards the cat food.

It’s six-twenty when we hit the road, ten minutes earlier than planned. We drive towards a brilliant sunrise, but don’t take a photo because we know a phone camera from a moving vehicle won’t do it justice.

The packet pick-up runs until seven-thirty; we arrive just after seven. We park in our preferred area, the Lions section, and pick up our t-shirts and race bibs. There are people warming up in the parking lot as we drive in, but many others haven’t arrived yet. We change into our race shirts and drop our original shirts in the car before walking into the zoo itself.

I do my morning hip stretches on the floor of the Discovery Center, then we visit the promotional tables. If we had just picked up the Off the Eaten Path samples, I would have shoved them in my DuPage Medical Group ladybug bag. But Nicor Gas has energy saving kits for current customers, and I do actually want to replace my showerhead… so we walk back out to the car because the bag has gotten heavy. We skip the spin a wheel opportunities at the Cane’s and White Sox booths; I’m not a fan of either and the lines were long.

If you’ve entered Brookfield Zoo through the North Gate, you know it’s an extensive walk just to get from the gate to the parking lot. It was seven-thirty-five by this point, still most of an hour until the race started, and the theoretically closed packet pick-up has a huge line. We visit the bathroom and move towards the line-up, stopping at one booth we missed before. At this point, constant motion is key, so we’re fidgeting and semi-dancing to the music blaring over the speakers. Eventually, we move into the corral for the 12 minutes per mile and up group, the next to last group to start, just before the people with strollers.

Ten minutes after the official start time, our corral launches through the arch, bib sensors recording our individual starts. We start at a jog to get out of the crowd, then slow to a fast walk around the curve. We hold that fast walk in the light rain until the final stretch, as we come around the corner by the snow leopards and start to run the final leg. We’re both jogging until she sees me pull ahead; she sprints forward and I get stuck behind a stroller, grinning as she beats me to the finish line by at least ten seconds. We both accept the proffered water, banana, and Kind bar, and eventually decide that the line is too long for exact times; my watch says we walked the course in about fifty minutes.

It’s early enough that the zoo is largely deserted, so we head to Wild Encounters to meet the goats, wallabies, and parakeets. After all, part of the point of participating in the ZooRunRun is that we like the zoo.

Indoor trees filled with parakeets in a variety of colors.

Home maintenance decisions

Owning a home thrusts you into a constant process of making difficult decisions. When a problem starts, do you fix it yourself or call a professional? Do you repair it or replace it?

At times, that decision is obvious. When I bought this house, I knew the windows would need replacing. None of them were broken, they were just an older model of casement windows that weren’t particularly good at insulating the house. Newer windows are all double-paned, and the frames are meant to last longer. Additionally, the casement windows were a pain to open – I had to remove the screen, unlatch the window, push it open, then put the screen back in.

This summer, my dryer stopped spinning. Looking at the notes from my home inspection (always get one before buying a house!), it stated that the washer and dryer were dated and should be replaced at some point. While I debated between a replacement and repair, I improvised a stand for my clothesline and started air drying my clothes again. The dryer has since been repaired – the belt had broken, which isn’t a terrible expensive repair – and when I had my water softener serviced for the year, that guy commented that you can’t get durable machines like my washer and dryer anymore. That made me feel better about my decision to repair them.

On the other hand, I have a wooden door out the side of my attached garage with a crack in it. And while it’s neat to look at the light shining through it and make Doctor Who references, come winter it will reduce the efficiency of the heater in the garage. The garage is home to my washer, dryer, well pressure tank, full-size freezer, hot water heater, and boiler, plus occasionally my car, so maintaining a proper temperature in the winter is somewhat essential. So that’s on the replacement list.

Meanwhile, the lock on my front door just needed a bit of WD-40 when the key wouldn’t go all the way in. It’s a never-ending process of updating the house, the garden, or both, along with deciding whether to do it yourself or hire a professional.

How does my back garden grow (2019 edition)?

Well, that’s an interesting question. You may recall that I mentioned some critters in my yard when I posted about the garden back in June. As you can see from my squash plants, the critters are well fed. Their growth was stunted by having all their leaves chewed off earlier in the season; the spattering of flowers was late and did not produce any fruit.

In fact, this is about what they looked like back in June; they’ve regrown back to this from being woodchuck food. Meanwhile, the woodchucks have discovered the bird feeder, along with the birds, squirrels, a pair of young skunks, and an opossum. We’re doing a fine job of keeping the neighborhood fed.

But that’s a bit disappointing from a gardening perspective. I recently discovered that there are hibiscus plants that are hardy enough to survive in our planting zone (5), so I decided to repurpose the back vegetable beds for some pretty flowers. Of course, this type of gardening isn’t instantaneous; in face, I don’t expect to see flowers until next year, assuming the hibiscus survive the critters and the winter. But just in case, I picked a couple different types, and hopefully we’ll have a variety of flowers.

If not… well, garden planning resets in the winter anyways.

Lickity Split – ice cream and more

On our way to black belt camp last weekend, we missed our first lunch choice (my fault) and bypassed our second (not realizing yet that we had missed our first), so we found ourselves in Brookston, Indiana searching for a late lunch. For anybody not familiar with Brookston, the Wikipedia entry for the town shows it’s total area as 0.66 square miles with just over 1,500 residents as of the 2010 census. A quick map search showed a few restaurants nearby, but Lickity Split was the closest. We pulled in across from it, wondering if it was just ice cream, and noticed a sign mentioning other food options – hot dogs and burgers were available.

The other food options are a tiny portion of Lickity Split’s menu… you could get lost in their ice cream/milkshake/malt options. When we ordered, we were warned that the fries would take 10 minutes… that didn’t seem like long until the milkshakes were served after about 2 minutes and the burgers after 5. Talk about fast! I had just finished my burger when the fries arrived; we actually discussed ordering a second burger each because of how fast they were ready and how hungry we were.

The other great thing about their milkshakes (I ordered butterscotch) was the size. A small milkshake was actually just that, a single serving milkshake. While I love a good Oberweis milkshake, I typically split it across multiple meals because of the size, but the Lickity Split small milkshake was perfectly sized to finish with our meal. Even if we eat somewhere else some years, this will be a good place to pick up a milkshake on the way to or from camp.

Going on a Lego hunt

As I mentioned when we visited the Brick Safari at Brookfield Zoo, the nearby Morton Arboretum happens to have a Lego exhibit this summer as well. Whereas the Lego animals at the zoo were all life-sized, most of the ones at the Arboretum are far larger than their living counterparts. Our first Lego encounter was with a bee composed of 16,383 Lego bricks, which took 200 hours to build; our last was the Monarch butterfly, with almost 40,000 bricks and 425 build hours. Imagine spending all the time assembling Lego. And getting paid to do it!

The Arboretum’s Lego exhibit includes fifteen displays, all within walking distance of the Visitor Center; if that’s all you see, you’ll walk about a mile. We walked a bit more than that, exploring the Children’s Garden as well. We visited on a rainy Sunday morning, so there weren’t a lot of people out and about; I think we only saw two other families in the Children’s Garden.

The sun emerged as we meandered through the Hedge Maze, vaguely looking for the promised nooks and crannies that harbored information on specific plants. As we finished off our Lego hunt, walking around a nearby lake, we emerged by the parking lot and a rock-bearing troll from the Arboretum’s Troll Hunt. We’ve seen the troll that’s visible from westbound I-88, but hadn’t managed to visit to see the other five trolls crafted from reclaimed wood that have been visiting for over a year now. We’ll have to go back to find the other four at some point.

Customer service matters.

I had two experiences recently that reminded me how a good customer service experience results in repeat business. In both cases, the business will be infrequent (I hope) due to the nature of the services they provide.

Last week, I had my annual eye exam. I went somewhere new – closer to home, even walkable when I have the time to spare. I found the location through my vision insurance website; the fact that is probably the closest eye doctor to my house is a bonus.

When I called to schedule, Park Family Eye Care was able to get me in the same week. While I appreciate that, it’s more lucky timing than customer service… they happened to have openings in the near future. I went through the usual pre-tests with an assistant, and then the vision test with the doctor. After a brief chat with the doctor, he walked me back out to the waiting area.

Anybody who’s been to the big chains knows this is where you normally get handed back to an assistant, as you agonize over which frames to pick and they upsell you on as many things as they can. That didn’t happen. In fact, the doctor helped me select frames, adding on just the extras needed based on our discussion. He then wrote up the itemized bill, took the appropriate measurements for the glasses, and only when that was done, passed me off to the front desk for payment.

In a similar vein, I had my dryer serviced this week. To be more specific, my dryer stopped spinning a couple weeks ago; fortunately the weather is nice for drying on a clothesline. I logged onto Next Door and asked for recommendations, hoping that I wouldn’t need to buy a new dryer quite yet. I received several recommendations, including one from a person who had experienced the same issue; I went with her recommendation and called West Suburban Appliance Repair.

When I called to schedule, I was told the diagnostic visit fee would be applied to the repair if I opted to repair the dryer with them. That was a good start.

The repairman assessed the problem fairly quickly – a broken belt – and happened to have a replacement for my make and model in his truck. He informed me of the cost before even checking his truck for the belt, then verified that I was approving the work at that price after confirming that he had the necessary piece. I know, that all seems super reasonable, but sometimes repairs around the house end up with surprise costs.

What caught my attention was the details at the end of his visit. Instead of just handing me the work order and running my credit card, he explained the details of the work order, including the manufacturer’s warranty on the part and the company’s warranty on the work. He literally went through every piece of information written on the work order… I’m not sure I’ve seen anybody do that before. He’s certainly at the top of my list to call if I need appliance repairs… though I hope not to.

Stepping back(ish) in history

Last weekend was our annual excursion to the Bristol Renaissance Faire, just across the border in Wisconsin. As with past visits, we always try to catch something classic and something new. This year, we started the day with a delightful performance titled “How Not To Die”. As we did not in fact die during it, I consider it to be a successful show. Tucked away at the small Military Encampment stage, this was an educational show – with audience participation – about medical knowledge in 1574. Blood and amputations were included.

We then went in search of food, and I realize that I haven’t discussed the food options at Faire before. There is a plethora of period inappropriate (fortunately) food available in an ever-expanding selection. The most traditional options at Bristol are the turkey legs (massive!) and the garlic mushrooms (delicious!), along with a tasty cup of sassafras. We had none of those on this trip. Well, except for the sassafras. There is literally something for everyone – between us, we ate iced creme crepes, shrimp and vegetable tempura, calzone, and some beef jerky. There are specialty coffee stands and an assortment of refreshing cold items – gelato, ice cream in various forms, along with cold beverages of alcoholic and non-alcoholic varieties.

After we ate, we headed to Dirk & Guido’s second show of the day; it’s always a delightful experience. After a bit of shopping, we split into two groups for repeat experiences: Cirque du Sewer and Adam Crack’s Fire Whip show. Cirque du Sewer now features three cats that participate at will (really, at their will… they were not entirely cooperative this time), along with the rats and human stars of the show. Adam Crack taught an audience member to use a whip and let her swing it at his head.

Last weekend was cosplay weekend at Faire, which is why we saw Boba Fett (in a kilt), Ghostbusters, and even a weeping angel. There’s a different theme every weekend, which can be found on the Faire’s Facebook page.

Crime for the Connoisseur

In sorting through Dad’s stuff, we discovered a couple items he had written for a college magazine he helped produce at King’s College in Newcastle, titled The Modern Languages Magazine. This article, titled Crime for the Connoisseur, was published in Vol. 1. No. 1 in Dec. 1946, along with other authors’ works in English, Spanish, French, and German. If I reflexively switch to American spelling, please forgive me; I will try to retain the original, but sometimes my fingers are faster than my brain.

It seems almost incredible that for the last fifty years a vast horde of novelists has been scrubbing away at the detective story, racking its brains in trying to think up new themes, and especially new methods of killing the victim. The trouble is, that hardly any of them since Conan Doyle have realised that a murder is not at all necessary; that it is, in fact, distinctly out of date. After all, the whole of our modern society depends on people doing what is polite, and convenient to others. And it is not at all convenient to cause a major disruption of other people’s lives by entangling them in a murder. Not is it polite to drag the police away from their normal business to investigate murders, and then to allow some unauthorized stranger to dismiss them as blunderers, and solve the case himself.

It is really high time that the murder-manglers woke up to this: murder is quite outdated. What is more, as a theme it is beginning to look sorely bedraggled.

Then there is the problem of the detective. From the professional to the inconspicuous ordinary citizen, from the police to the armchair variety, all have been tried. Somebody has even written a story in which the detective is the murderer; but that required another detective to catch him. But not one of these plot-mincers ever thought of a detective story in which the crime was never discovered, was never even mentioned, and which there was no detective at all. Yes, it exists – in Shakespeare’s “Much Ado about Nothing”.

You are thunderstruck! But I see, you have been brought up in the modern tradition; for the normal reader of detective stories never finds out the criminal by any means other than guesswork. And he does not try – he knows quite well that he is expected not to solve the problem; for the solution will be there, sure enough, in the last chapter. Shakespeare credits you with more intelligence: for in his story it is the public – yes, you and I – who are the detectives. Beware! – he exerts all his genius to lead you astray with a crime that never existed; and he leaves only one clue. Mind you, that one clue is not one of these paltry modern details – stopped clocks, or remains of Turkish cigarettes in the ash-tray – it really gapes at you.

The general plot is that Claudio, a demobbed army officer, is engaged to be married next day to Hero, the local city governor’s daughter. But along comes Don John – a really low type – and takes Claudio at midnight to watch Hero billing and cooing with some other man at her bedroom window. So next morning in church, Claudio breaks off the engagement, and tells Hero why: she shows a decided tendency to swoon (Note this – ‘Tis important!) Meanwhile the stooge hired by Don John to do the midnight wooing act got drunk on his wages, and in telling one of his pals that at the window was not Hero, but her maid, whom he was calling “Hero”, he was overheard by the local Peelers, who arrested him forthwith. And so Don John made himself scarce, and Claudio proceeded to wed Hero. Another troubled romance ended happily.

But you and I, being the intelligent readers whom Shakespeare’s ghost has so long awaited, will immediately ask: if Hero’s maid was love-making at Hero’s bedroom window, where, pray, was Hero all the while? Doing her knitting – at midnight, when she was expected to be in bed? Chatting with one of the maids? – none of the maids came forward next day to admit any conversation with her. Well, then, I regret to say that we must presume she was loitering with a man. You noticed that, when accused in the church next morning, she fainted. This was first taken as proof of her guilt in the affair at the window, later as proof of her innocence. Both were wrong: she fainted because she realised that whoever was at her window – her maid, as it turned out – knew quite well that she was not in bed at that time. A deadly fear chilled her to the marrow: whoever it was might choose to reveal this fact, then the truth would emerge, that she had been dilly-dallying with….

Yes, inspector, I think I know my man: do you?

But I should hate to interfere with your enjoyment of the play by telling you before you read it: that would be most impolite, and not at all convenient.

Thoughts on Snakes and Ladders

On our recent visit to Guatemala, I was tasked with sorting through Dad’s room. I made a dent, but barely touched the books; as a retired librarian, he had an extensive personal library. I did find a couple interesting reads, and started one of them before the return trip – Snakes and Ladders: Glimpses of Modern India, by Gita Mehta. The extent of my knowledge of Indian history is limited to having read The Far Pavilions a couple times; anything beyond that is random bits and pieces that I’ve heard throughout the years.

Snakes and Ladders was published in 1997, so modern in the title does not necessarily reflect current. The book covers significant events and Indian culture from Indian independence in 1947 to what was current day, including the advent of the internet. There were many things that stood out in this book, not the least of which was “…seventy percent of the Indian electorate avails itself of such consolation [of voting the ] at every general election.”

Seventy percent.

The last presidential election in the United States had a 55.5 percent turnout. India, with four times our population, 900 million of them eligible to vote, still manages to engage their voters – according to Wikipedia, their 2019 election had over 67 percent voter turnout. The last time the United States had that high a turnout was the early 1900s.

According to the author, for the 1989 election, there was one booth for every thousand voters, “from the inaccessible mountains of Ladakh on the very borders of Tibet to the farthest desert areas of Rajasthan on the borders of Pakistan to the southern coasts of Karala on the edge of the Indian Ocean.” Reports of voter suppression and disenfranchised voters have filled the news in the last couple U.S. elections. India as a democracy is almost 200 years younger than the United States, with more than triple the number of eligible… perhaps we need to do better?

How? What a fabulous question. While I agree with the concept of a national holiday for election day, there are viable options now that make that a moot point.

Automatic voter registration. Voting is not just a right of citizenship, it’s an obligation. The government collects enough information about each of us already, between taxes, driver’s license, and other official records, that they should be able to handle this without us having to opt in.
Early voting. Illinois has amazing early voting options, which I have availed myself of the last few elections. The option to vote at select locations a month ahead of election day (including some weekend hours) provides flexibility for my work schedule.
Vote by mail. In Illinois, this is primarily used for absentee ballots and people who for health reasons can’t get to the polls, but Oregon, Washington, and Colorado have switched to voting by mail being the standard. To be honest, this is a more economical solution than early voting, with the added bonus of supporting the post office.
Accessibility. There is no good excuse for our government to fumble elections so badly that people wait in line for hours to vote. Voting places should be placed appropriately for all voters, so that they’re accessible and efficient.

Let’s be more like India, making it reasonably easy to avail ourselves of the option to vote in each election. Let us “… enjoy that supreme consolation of freedom – kicking the bums out.” (While keeping the good ones, of course.)