Frequent Citations

Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Where is that from? A movie? An Agatha Christie? Well, I'm too fried to Google it.

And these didn't all happen before breakfast, but here are a few things I've seen in the last day or two:

1. Zombies running down the street.
2. A bouncer telling the zombies they didn't look very dead when they were running.
3. A 2-day sober man bouncing back and forth in front of the bar. He ordered a salad, ate, and left. No drink.
4. A plaque memorializing a parade on my birthday. Not, strangely, a parade for my birthday.
5. An Eden in the midst of Gomorrah.
6. Gorgeous rocks. Do you know what phyllite is? Ok, maybe you don't think it's as exciting as zombies, but some people think it's even better. And frankly, if you'd seen the zombies, you'd prefer the phyllite too. It, at least, is sparkly and pretty.
7. A fountain of amphorae.

You don't like the list? Tell me your list.

Double Sunrise

I had a later start than usual this morning, so as I was walking toward the lake the sun had already risen. It was floating just above the horizon, an iridescent orange. Just then a yellow-orange school bus drove by in front of me. On the side of the bus was written, "Sunrise."

Herds and Hordes

We're suffering a massive nasty heat wave along with, it seems, the rest of the country. Now that the boys are out of town for a bit I've had all the dog-walking duties so I've been taking her down to walk along the lake on the theory that we'd get a little breeze there. That's mostly been a vain hope.

The other day, though, we saw dozens of horses at the lake. Gorgeous horses, not glue-factory rejects. They must have come from somewhere on the south side, because it was far too hot to make a horse carry someone any distance. Aside from some difference in clothing it could almost have been 100 years ago, with people riding along the lake and back through park land.

Yesterday evening as we walked along we saw nearly as many people as were there for the Fourth. The swimming beach was full, but there were plenty of people just hanging out and watching the water. They looked like so many picnicking refugees from inland neighborhoods. And sure, the view was better on the lake, but it was still murderously hot.

Eighteen Fire Trucks

Yesterday evening there was one heck of a commotion a block over from us. It seems a little fire broke out in an apartment in a high rise. Said high rise was designed by a certain world-reknowned architect. So there were 18 fire trucks, dozens of ambulances, and hordes of neighbors out on the street.

It was quite disappointing as drama goes, though. There weren't even any scorch marks on the outside of the building.

Well, sometimes drama is a bad thing, so I'm okay with the disappointment.

Convertibles & Parisian Heels

TFL, Boy, and I were driving out to see Pirates when we pulled up next to the cutest little convertible. "What kind of car is that?" I asked. No one knew, so I let it pull out ahead of me. We were all stunned to see that it was a Saturn! Saturn makes a convertible now -- who knew? -- and it's pretty adorable. I haven't test-driven one yet so I've no idea how it handles. But it's available with a standard transmission!

GirlChild sent a picture of some shoes she bought.

Yes, she did inherit my taste in shoes. Heh.

Oh, and the Pirates movie? I was disappointed. Depp was gorgeous as ever, but the writers should be shot for the stunt they pulled toward the end. Also, the grossness quotient was way too high.

Fourth, Fireworks, and Fretting

Monday night we went down to the shore to watch the big fireworks show. Macy's was trying to buy the city's love with a lavish display -- phooey on them. It was great, though, to be able to wander out our front door, walk a few minutes, and have a fantastic seat on the water's edge.

Last night we went down there again, having heard rumors of a neighborhood show. There was nothing official, but certainly an abundance of do-it-yourselfers were happily blowing up little and not-so-little fireworks of their own. I had always had some skepticism about the statistics  -- so many people losing hands and eyes and what-not by setting off fireworks. After all, I'd watched plenty of people do it and they were always very careful and no one ever (thank goodness) got hurt.

Ah, I was so naive.

I was in constant fear of having a stray firework land in my hair. I kept waiting for the screams sure to come, when someone blew off their hand. I was dumbfounded at the sight of little kids holding the fireworks (not firecrackers) as they went off!!! It was insane. Also, they were shooting them right over the major road near us. So be warned: if you come visit us on July 4th, don't drive down that road after dark.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Mechanic

Our lovely little car has major electrical problems. Major. As in, not sure it's going to be worth fixing. But we decided to take it into the dealership and have it checked out, because now is Not A Good Time to buy a new car.

So I hauled myself out of bed this morning and toddled off to get the car in first thing. And I was thinking to myself that the car was handling quite badly and I was glad I was taking it in, when suddenly -- flap! Thud THUD THUD!!!

And I saw my tire... rolling down the road ahead of me... as rush hour traffic slowed right down...

The good news is: Boy wasn't driving. More good news: no one was hurt. Even more good news: TFL hadn't left for work yet, so he hopped on Bonnie and came out and changed the spare. Yes -- I stood and watched admiringly as he struggled to get the (now grievously bent and going to be very expensive to replace) wheel off because let me tell you, I wouldn't have pried it off in a million years.

So I hobbled on up to the dealership on the wimpy spare, arrived an hour late, and met with great sympathy. Sadly, the car is racking up massive charges with every hour that ticks by, and we'll be lucky to get it back by the weekend. Then we'll have to deal with the tire. Ah, life in the fast lane.

Look At The Snow

The cotton-wood trees are filling the air with white fluff. The southerners think it's snowing. The fountain that just got a scrubbing is filling up with fluff-scum, which the ducks eat.

The stuff makes my face itch. Drives me batty.

It was very hot today. Sahara-like, but with considerably more humidity. I kept trying to escape the library, but outlines kept yanking me back.

Don't They Know Ducks Have Sex In That Fountain?

Finally, I got to watch Boy vault this morning. It was worth standing about in the cold drizzle: his form is much improved over last year. In fact, it's much improved over a few months ago when I saw him vault in practice.

After a few brief hours of being a mom, I was back in the library studying hard. Until I happened to look out the window, when I saw a few undergrads walk toward the fountain. They were burdened with mysterious objects and one of them appeared to be wearing -- but surely not -- underwear outside his pants. And a strange object on his head. Then a few more oddly dressed students appeared, and more, and more, until there was a whole horde of them out there, shouting at each other as they read from some sort of script, and dipping in and out of the fountain on this quite chilly day.

Eventually, after perhaps an hour of mysterious and most distracting activities, they all drifted away. They took their swords and capes with them, but left behind lingering questions. Who were they? And who gave them the keys to the asylum?

Spring Days

As I sat in the library yesterday, my gaze occasionally wandered. That is, I regularly stared out the windows at the gorgeous spring day. Thus I saw the horses being ridden down the Midway.

Now that I think about it, that would be a great place to go riding. So would Jackson Park. There used to be a lot of stables around here, and I wonder if a new one opened up recently. Those horses must have come from somewhere.

I also saw a bird fly into a window. That was sad.

As dusk fell, neighborhood kids stopped by to remove the festive balloons. It was Alumni Weekend, so about a dozen shiny mylar balloon bouquets  were tied to the front fence. Within a few minutes, every last one was gone, disappearing down the street in the tight clutch of a delighted child. Apparently, they didn't care that the balloons were marked with various years.