Overheard: St. Patrick’s Day Morning

Yes, I recognize that the balloons in the living room are more blue than green. I did not appreciate that realization at 11pm last night.

Kids sleep through vacuums, thunderstorms, and house alarms, but drop one balloon softly into their room and they will stir and thrash in their blankets while I cower in the hallway. Leprechauns don’t get caught making mischief. They just don’t.

I continue to be very Irish and very much not into Irish foods. Even Irish soda bread, the one thing I’m sorta okay with, tasted less than okay this morning. What is going on with that, I ask you.

She: has pulled out every article of green clothing she owns. Gold ribbon in hair for golden coins.
He: is uninterested and possibly, influenced by school and the concept of cool. Orange shirt and jeans.

Just yesterday, I entered the 7th circle of hell (PartyCity). I found myself running amok, placing strand of beads and shamrock headbands into a basket. Plates, cups, napkins. Green, green, green. $62 worth of festive.

And for what? For whom? For why?

Is this the new normal? These little holidays holding joy that allow us tiny celebrations in an era that has felt hard to celebrate? I thought about this as I considered our later plans: green milkshakes, spun in the blender, crushing ice into cream. Everyone’s tongue will be green.

This morning? Her little footsteps hurried to the top of the stairs. A gasp. Wonder. Awe. WOW.

I smiled a leprechaun’s smile.

Leprechaun Traps and March Tricks

I grossly underestimated the intensity my children have when it comes to trapping a leprechaun. This morning, my daughter ran screaming into my room to tell me that the ‘green stuff’ in our house had been moved, therefore, tiny little leprechauns were out making mischief.

When I asked her to clarify, she pointed at a small green stapler on the countertop and a spice jar of Bay Leaves next to it (basically, the casual, everyday mess that is my kitchen).

“See? Look at this stuff just laying around,” she confirmed. “Hey, did you by any chance hear tiny little voices saying ‘tee hee hee’?”

“No.”

(she was not please by this response).

Yesterday, I took my kids and their active imaginations to the library, where they beelined for Irish-themed books (as well as some historical ones for Wells, who is getting a kick out of history). I agreed to make a lot of green food this month (they requested green beans and mint milkshakes). I also made a tentative plan to try and attempt my family’s famous Irish soda bread recipe. Every cardboard box has been claimed in order to craft the most skilled and accurate leprechaun trap.

We are full tilt for mischief. Here’s hoping you are too.

Start Me Up

The new year has rolled out and the rollercoaster has begun. In just the first half of January, there have been dramatic shifts and prods within social media, government, law enforcement, D.E.I., journalism, and more. Brad Montague touched upon the enormity of this time as ‘toomuchery.’ The world keeps changing, the world keeps staying the same. Routine mixed with chaos, stirred with uncertainty. What happens when our very democracy is under violent attack and my child approaches me and asks for help with homework? He’s working on calculating area. Length x width.

The other day I impulse bought a set of clearance rack barrettes from Target. As if that would help anything. As if it would lessen the anxiety. But they sparkle on Zoom. They shimmer under the light of our dinner table. They help hide that awkward hair length I’m at- the growing-out-phase. But really, there is no help for moving through uncertainty. Sparkle is merely a distraction.

Family continues with distance and technology, and the occasional freezing cold walk at a forest preserve.

Our dog, Putter, continues to burrow on our laps and spread the warmth wherever she goes. In the ever-chill of a midwestern winter, I don’t really mind it. I’m just not always ready when I’m sitting down with coffee and a furry bundle leaps into my startled lap.

On Tuesday, Fitz cracked open an Ina Garten cookbook and made the fanciest comfort food he could find: lobster BLTs. They were sensational. A hall-of-fame kind of sandwich.

Clean, purge, donate. Every year this happens. The doling out of holiday decor, the sweeping removal of it, and my insistence at stripping things down, down, down to necessity. In a world of no control, I have to stop myself from pacing or organizing. In doing so, Fitz dug through office drawers and uncovered a treasure among relics (a rolodex! ancient biz cards!). Before the world changed and tilted, he had purchased a pair of earrings on Etsy for me. My initials. The two letters that have been singular in my identity for so long. A really lovely, thoughtful gift. It reminded me of that moment in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Clark is in the attic, attempting to discreetly hide presents…until he uncovers a dusty Mother’s Day gift from 1984. Oops.

I picked a helluva time to start school again but the program was just too good and the Instagram ad hit at the right time. Despite the chaos of schedule, I have really enjoyed eCornell. I’m studying Diversity & Inclusion.

Every day is still fresh. Every opportunity is still present. Yes, this year has already been too much, but many days lay ahead. Many days lay ahead. Start me up.

Home Alone: The joke you may have missed

“That’ll be $122.50.”

“Ugh…it’s my brother’s house. He’ll take care of it.”


It’s that time of year when holiday movies are on heavy rotation, and up there with the absolute best of them is Home Alone (save me a slice plain cheese).

Last night I watched the Christmas classic and was reminded of a line of dialogue that nearly slips by undetected. Now, I had viewed this flick hundreds of times since childhood. I have the score on my playlist, the locations imprinted in my brain, the witty one-liners memorized. So this quiet little line took me by surprise. Also? It’s pretty damn funny.

The scene: a busy kitchen. Family eating. Pizza guy waiting on payment. Someone pipes up for Uncle Frank to contribute.

“Travelers checks!” he protests, mouth full of pizza.

THAT’S WHEN IT HAPPENS.

Mr. McAllister, under his breath, mutters, “Something tells me you’ll have the kind of Travelers Checks that don’t work in France.”

Too good, friends. Too good.

Oh October

Photo by Elias Tigiser on Pexels.com

Flashes of orange, of gold
A dancing candle’s glow
Sliding arms through coats
Gusts, encircling
When it did gray replace blue?

Closing windows, opening cabinets
So much candy
So much candy
Everything is layered
Everything inside, everything outside

October
How did that happen
So abrupt
With such grace
A fluttering finger, touching the wind

(and still, so much candy)

I’m relieved. I’m unsettled.



Happy Love Day

Last night, I was zooming home from a biz event. My eyes were heavy and exhausted from a wild schedule that day. The car slowed to a stop and I turned to my right to see the city lit up in cheerful pink and red. Immediately, something lifted. I felt loved.

(I hope you feel loved too)

Happy Valentine’s Day to you and yours.

City Girl Confessions: A New Kind of Al Fresco Experience

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City Girl Confessions is my recurring column in The Glencoe Anchor.

When they first caught my eye, I thought they were bubbles. Or perhaps new-age moving pods, meant for quick storage during renovations. Either way, the sidewalks on Vernon Avenue were filling up with giant, clear orbs at the precise moment that freezing winter temperatures rolled on through.

Turns out, they are igloos. And the igloos are for everyone! Hometown Coffee & Juice has found a decidedly clever way to keep their patio cozy even when weather is lingering around freezing. You can reserve an igloo for an hourly fee and receive beverage/food service while lounging in style. The igloos have chairs, blankets, coffee tables, heaters, water, water glasses, and even a portable Bluetooth speaker, should you desire music. 

When a friend asked if I wanted to join her for coffee and a catch-up in the igloo, I thought, Why not? How often do I get to lounge outdoors in the middle of winter? My curiosity was stoked, so the plans were made. 

I’ll share the obvious: sitting in an igloo is a whimsical way to enjoy a cup of coffee. You enter and exit through a long zippered portion. The service is attentive and quick. You can fit a surprising amount of people in the space without it feeling cramped. And yes, I was warm (our igloo had two space heaters; I cranked ours up to 74 degrees and was quite cozy). 

But I think the most surprising element of the igloo is the perspective. The view was beautiful. It felt very intimate, yet we were very much on display (igloos do not subtlety blend in). Passerbys would occasionally walk by, stare, or peer in. Someone even called out, “Are you actually warm in there?!” This was not intrusive; everyone is sort of in on the whimsical nature of igloo dwelling in the Midwest. Any conversation that came up was kind and met with a lot of chuckles.

I’ll confess, this igloo excursion reminded me of something that I often tell my children: try something new and take in a different perspective. When it’s 30 degrees outside, I typically don’t linger outdoors. Yet this was a scenario in which I welcomed the chance to- and that in doing so, I had a chance to marvel at how beautiful the sunlight is in winter months. I saw a busy town with busy residents bundled in colorful coats and hats. I saw dogs on their morning walks, also bundled in colorful coats and hats. I saw stillness. I saw the season stretching outward. I saw winter from a whole new perspective. 

With Happy Hearts

This pillow encapsulates our Christmas season. And our year, actually. A year with painful goodbyes and stitched up hearts. A year of warmth and growth.

I’ll remember this year as the one where Wells chimed in reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,’ alternating pages with Fitz and I while Gus listened. I’ll recall how Fitz couldn’t find Scotch tape so he resorted to using a massive shipping tape dispenser to seal our presents. I’ll smile thinking about my daughter sporting a blue bowtie at Christmas Eve service, her little hands proudly holding a candle. I will shake my head in wonder in contemplating how I survived nearly two weeks of endless illnesses and antibiotics.

I couldn’t possibly forget my sister’s Home Alone-themed party (and neither will the internet; I’ve never received more DMs in my life).

I will smile happily thinking of every family dinner, cookie baking, cocktail toast, city excursion, sister date, twinkle lights, and seasonal feasts.

I will wince and then chuckle when I think about how I accidentally discovered a gift from Fitz that was supposed to be a surprise- a special piece of art work that captured my heart. When I hang the painting up in my living room, I know it will provide an amusing story for years to come.

It’s 58 degrees outside today. The furthest thing from a white Christmas (but how wild was our Halloween snowstorm?!). Maybe we’ll ride bikes and take the dog for an extra long stroll.

We are alive. We are breathing. We are moving forward. Later on, over this winter break, the holiday trimmings will be packed away till next year. And everything will be new once again.

“It’s Christmas Time in the City…”

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Just dreaming of this…in 2011, Fitz and I went to Paris to commemorate our 30th birthdays. We stayed mere steps from the Arc de Triomphe and Champs Elysee. This photo brought me way back to that magical time. Another special part of that trip? Coming home and finding out that I was pregnant with Wells. 🙂

Source: Sortira Paris

Christmas & Other Things

  • New stockings to welcome the newest family member (Putter the dog)
  • Annual holiday party, with candied bacon winning again for best bite
  • A Home Alone-themed party in which Fitz dressed as Gus Polinski, polka king of the Midwest (he took clarinet lessons, people. CLARINET LESSONS)
  • Hot tea, green juice, water, repeat (also: prayers for my immune system)
  • Taking advantage of that free gift-wrapping service at Nordstrom
  • An amazing hosting gift: the Saveur cookbook! I made this ham, egg, and lemon sandwich on brioche for dinner on Tuesday.
  • No snow. Bummer.
  • Lots of twinkle lights. Delightful.
  • Frasier Fir candles
  • Carols are great but do you ever listen to Christmas jazz? (*swoons*)
  • 4th place in chess championship for Wells, ice skating lessons for Gus
  • Off Campus Writers Workshops for me, paddle season for Fitz
  • Shivers for Putt-Putt, who does NOT like the cold (she is from Mississippi)
  • Menu planning for Christmas Eve: maybe baked ziti and roasted salmon with dill sauce
  • Holiday tea with my sis, U Club with the A-team (solid city escapes)
  • Lightscape at the Botanic Garden

And a partridge in a pear tree!