Renaissance Faire, 2008

On Sunday, we drove up to Bristol Wisconsin for the last weekend of the Reanaissance Festival. We had so much fun there last year, and both boys were talking about all the things they wanted to do again. That said, it was an entirely different experience and left me thinking about how much difference a year has made for us. Last year they were in major "dress up" mode, and we didn't leave the house without at least one costume in tow (and if we did, we often had to go home to get one). They took two costumes each last year, and they were alternately pirates and knights. This year, they were not interested in costumes at all. We went a different direction around the park, which also changed the experience so much. They were most interested in rides: riding on the camel, the ponies, and the various "thrill rides" to be had. So that's largely what we did.






When we were researching bullwhips earlier this summer, we came across several YouTube videos from Adam Crack, a bullwhip performer from Wisconsin, who just happens to do his show at the Renaissance Faire. We were very excited that he was actually there on the weekend we came, as we had been thinking of seeing him all summer. His show did not disappoint. Apparently, people often ask him how he got into whips (was his father a rancher, was his mother a dominatrix?). It turns out he saw a little movie when he was nine, where the lead character donned a hat and cracked a whip. It was a character we know well, and it was further evidence that our kids can potentially turn any passion into something that can sustain them, if they just take it as far as they can.


The thing the boys definitely did remember from last year and wanted to do again was to see the armor and hold the real swords. We stayed in that tent for a very long time, trying each one and then trying each one again. Max wanted to find the one that was most like Irina Spalko's. Otto preferred a smaller one, which he thought was most like what Mutt carries (both of these references are from the new Indiana Jones movie).




We watched the falconer's show again, which was really interesting, and since the boys are so into birds, it was really cool to have falcons flying overhead, but I think they might have gotten more out of the jousting, which we didn't actually see this year.

They did quite enjoy the pretzels, however.



And both boys really got into the challenge of climbing Jacob's Ladder. We paid for so many tries that the guy just let them play there for as long as they wanted, just trying to get to the top. They only made it when we assisted by holding it steady for them.






And then they took out some agression with some hay-filled sacks.



One of the things they liked best came from an entirely unexpected source: a little pile of rocks near a pottery store. It turns out the 8 year old daughter of the potter had amused herself that day by painting faces on all the rocks with a Sharpie. Max and Otto loved this and sat down to examine all the different expressions. The potter agreed that they could each choose one rock to take with them, and they really thought long and hard over the decision. Max asked if we could do that to rocks at our house, and frankly, I can't wait to have a pile of smiling rocks, so of course I said, "Yes!"


As we walked back to the entrance, we stopped at the ponies, which the boys had been looking forward to for the entire visit. (They had both decided they wanted to do it at the end, just like they did last year.)


It was so much nicer in the evening, as the sun was lower in the sky and the heat had tapered off. But of course, by that time, the park was almost closed, and we made our way out and back to our car for the drive home. We listened to the rest of "Looking for Bobowicz" and arrived home with a sleeping Otto. It was late by that time, which basically means it's the time when Max comes alive and is the happiest. That period from about 10 pm to midnight is his most creative and relaxed time of the day. It's when he will start the most interesting line of discussion, asking lots of questions and thinking things through very carefully, wanting to know about the layers of the earth or where he could mine for diamonds or what people mean when they say "blah blah blah." It's the time of day when he'll suddenly decide he needs to build a very complicated Lego construction so that it will be ready to play with in the morning. Or when he will feel the urge to run back and forth through the apartment, in the most contented but focused manner imaginable, acting out some scene that we are not privy to aside from what we see on the outside (which seems to barely explain the stuff that's going on in his head). We had a couple of hours just being with Max while Otto slept, which was really good for all of us.

Should We Eat Something?

We spent Saturday running around Lincoln Square. Martin had a haircut scheduled in the middle of the day, so we went for breakfast at the Pannenkoeken Cafe, where I had the veggie pancake,



and Martin had the bacon and mushroom pancake,



and everyone was happy with their choices (after Max got a second round of pancakes, that is, since the first blueberry pancakes came with the blueberries on TOP of the pancakes and not inside!).

Martin ran off to get his hair cut, and the boys and I meandered around the neighborhood, stopping in the Book Cellar to read a nicely illustrated and very informative book about the Clone Wars. We spent more than an hour on the floor of the bookstore, looking at all the pictures, at which time Martin met us with his shorter hair. We took advantage of the coffee shop portion of the bookstore to get the boys a cupcake and fancy fizzy drinks.




Then it was off to Quake to dig through the Star Wars action figure bin. And conveniently located across the street from there: Costello's, where Max wanted to go for a turkey sandwich. Of course we obliged.



After this leisurely late lunch, we finally made our way to Lincoln Square Optical, which had been our secondary purpose to visiting the neighborhood (closely following the haircut). Of course, by the time we made it there, they were closed. We just peered in at the frames through the window, and the boys settled on the ledge to play with their new figures.



Our eyes fell on Selmarie, the little restaurant right across the street from the optician. Since it had been at least 30 minutes since we'd left Costello's, we agreed it was okay to stop in for a coffee and some cake. The boys also thought this was a good idea. We sat outside and listened to the accordion player, watched some kids dancing, and eventually ran into a friend of mine from college. So it was an all around good decision to spend our afternoon eating through Lincoln Square.





While brushing his teeth for bed, Max's seventh tooth gently extricated itself from his gums, so easily he didn't even realize it happened until it was in his hand. If only they could all come out that easily. He has such anxieties about his teeth coming out, which extend to the entire month or two that they are loose, and although we don't pull them or even put our hands anywhere near his mouth to wiggle them (this would completely undo him), he is still so very nervous about them. It is such a relief when one comes out. He is currently tearing all of his food into tiny little pieces so that none of the wiggly teeth (he says there are four, although now, I suppose, there are three) will be touched upon his bites of food. This makes any choice of food more complicated, as there are very few things he can easily eat, and the plate is always full of torn up scraps of his food (and his fingers and clothes constantly covered in whatever food he has been eating). My sweet little anxious child. I love him so.

Another Day, Another Map

Otto found my head massager and wanted to give it a try.



We had more errands to do today, which mostly centered around going to the lumber store to get some boards cut. I have been wanting to make "steps" for my bookshelves, as they are very deep and can hold two rows of books, but the books in the back get lost. My dad had drawn up a plan for these "steps" for my cousin, and I realized it would work for me too. I figured out what I needed and was going to just swing by Home Depot and have them cut it, but I remembered a little local lumber shop in my old neighborhood, which is now quite trendy (the far southwest edge of Wicker Park, which is, I guess Ukranian Village). It is where Martin and I first lived together, and I thought it would be much more fun to go explore that neighborhood while we waited for them to cut our boards. What a great decision that was!

I was greeted by the front desk person who called someone from the back to come out right away and talk me through my plans. He looked at my drawing of what I wanted, agreed with my calculations of what I needed, and then he told me that they usually charge 50 cents a cut (which I knew and had calculated already, deciding it was worth it to have it all done rather than asking Martin to use precious weekend time at his table saw). I needed 26 shelf boards and 52 support boards, which amounts to...a lot of cuts. It was about $40 in cuts and about $80 in lumber. The guy said he thought that was a bit steep and he could probably give me a deal on the cutting. He thought for a moment and then said, "how about $5?" "For all that cutting?" I asked. "Yeah, otherwise it would be a lot." he said. It was so kind of him and it took my breath away that I had almost carted myself and my lovely boys off to Home Depot, where I would have spent more time trying to find someone who could help me than I had spent in the store figuring out the total footage and pricing with this employee. Plus, they had a whole wall full of samples of laminate, and the boys found a bunch of metallic ones, which truly delighted them. They each picked out three different finishes while I "negotiated" with the very kind worker (I didn't get his name!).



Yay for MIller Lumber! Yay for small stores and personal service. He told me it would not take him long to cut it, so the boys and I went off to explore my old 'hood. Which is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. Wow. When we lived there, it was big news when the first really "fancy" restaurant opened on that little strip of Division. It was called Mas, and Martin and I had gone there for my 30th birthday dinner. It was the burgeoning of a really wonderful string of restaurants on that strip of Division, and now there are so many choices for "fine dining," it is overwhelming. But I saw that Mas was shuttered, the windows were papered over. I stared at it, and as we were staring, some workers carry in some construction materials. I guess 10 years have passed, and it's time for something new. The little restaurant that had been our regular weekend breakfast spot, Leo's Lunchroom, was closed too. I couldn't believe it. It was a Chicago landmark, I thought. I guess I will never have their red hash again.

We walked east on Division, heading for our old apartment. There were all sorts of cute coffee shops and restaurants, but the boys preferred the familiar sight of a Starbucks, so amid all the indy spots, we settled in to the corporate giant of coffee (and I mused that perhaps this was balancing the fact that I was so proud of myself for choosing an independent lumber shop). Otto sipped his vanilla milk and admired his metallic tile samples.



Then we walked to our old apartment, passing some familiar sights. This is the barber shop where Martin would get his hair cut for about $5. They also would give him a real razor shave, which was quite a thing to witness. The same guy who cut it was still sitting in one of the chairs, reading the paper and talking to his colleague. Just like the good ol' days.



Here was the restaurant where Martin took me on on of our very early dates. It's a total hole in the wall, there is only counter space, and there are only about 5 options of tacos to eat, and none of them were chicken, which totally disappointed Otto. The kids walked in and immediately declared it unfit for their presence ("It's too stinky in here," Max said). And I told them the story of how on our date, Papa had ordered a beef tongue taco and totally grossed me out. They thought this was hilarious.



To clear our palate (even though we hadn't eaten any beef tongue), we stopped in at the Alliance Bakery, another staple of the neighborhood when I lived there. It seems much hipper now than it was years ago, when it was much more like an old-fashioned bakery. But they still had some of the old reliable pastries I remembered (hopefully they were freshly made pastries and not actually old pastries).



The boys found some frosted cookies that met their satisfaction.



And then we passed a window of a glasses shop, where Max and Otto decided that there were big paper mache heads of me and Martin...




We stopped at the former Leo's, which is now called Mac's, and played on the tables, which were admittedly much cooler than what could be expected from the old workaday Leo's. The boys tried to trace the "maze" on the table, but they became very frustrated. (As a side note, these chairs were really cool—they have "pressure points" to massage your back while you sat. I was happy to sit and watch them play.)





Here's my lumber, all cut and wrapped and delivered right to my car! I'm so happy about it!


On the way home, Max drew up another map of our day. This one was stained with some Doritos, as a bonus.


Here's the selection of pastries the boys and I picked out for Martin.



And then we set about making ourselves that sturgeon I mentioned. We iChatted with our Canadian friends while we both made dinner. I followed a recipe I found online (well, not really following it, since I made the sauce with yogurt), here's our dinner.

The yogurt-lime-cilantro sauce:



The grilled sturgeon with the sauce (and some farm share and backyard tomatoes).



The whole meal. Yummy.



And here you can see the inside of it, which really is similar to swordfish. It was absolutely delicious, and if I see it again, I will definitely buy it.



What a good day we had! I'd like to do it all over again.

Monday

Mondays are quite often an errand day for us, as we tend to do our grocery shopping on this day. It's one of the only things in our lives that follows any sort of schedule, and even that is very flexible, often ignored or completely revised. And as always, we conduct our errands in a relaxed manner and fit lots of fun stuff in between. So, while Martin trudged off to work on Monday, the boys and I went to Lula for breakfast (and Lego play).



It was a really wonderful day, cool and sunny, almost like fall. We played by the Logan Square monument and found an empty bird's nest that had fallen from a tree.



The boys found lots of other things too, including a huge collection of bottle caps and some empty bottles too. It was really yucky how much garbage there was around the square, and we did a small bit of public service for the day by throwing some of it away.

We went to the library and picked out a few movies and a new audio book. We started listening to it right away in the car, and it's really funny. Daniel Pinkwater reads aloud his own book, Looking for Bobowicz : A Hoboken Chicken Story. We only got a couple of chapters into it before we arrived at another destination (still on the way to our grocery shopping): Fellger Park.

We spent a while at the park, where both boys ran under the sprinkler, despite the rather cool weather. We then had to stay even longer to dry out in the sun. It was a good plan on their part, I think.





They played in between the pine trees, pretending it was a house. They collected sticks and dried pine needles and made a "fire" and cooked "eggs" (pine cones) on it. They also made an X out of bark chips to mark the spot.



Ice cream: mandatory. Blue color: optional.





Since it was getting quite late, we finally convinced ourselves to leave for the grocery store, where we actually had lots of fun looking at all the fish (we bought sturgeon which was on sale and looked really interesting) and picking out the week's food. On the way home, we listened to some more of our audio book. Max found a piece of paper on the floor of the car. He was asking me to recount our day for him. We went through all the things we did: Lula for breakfast, walked to the monument and found the bird's nest, drove to the library, Fellger Park, Whole Foods, home.

He and Otto were discussing various portions of it, and when we got home, I realized he had drawn a "map of our day."

It's hard to see here, it's wrinkled and has some sort of stain on it, but I love this little memory of our simple, wonderful, well, our simply wonderful day.

Weekend Wrap Up

We started our weekend with a miniature camping trip. Actually, Otto had fallen asleep in the house, and Max wanted to play in the garden, so I was trying to think of how we could all be down there together. It was sunny out, and since we lost those neighboring trees, our backyard is not quite as pleasant as it used to be. It dawned on me to bring down the tent, which we hadn't put up all summer. Otto only slept in there for a few minutes before he woke up and wanted to just play. We had quite a fun afternoon of looking at the clouds and pretending inside the tent (the tent is really cool in that whole front panel is a screen, and when you unzip the inside, you can see all the surroundings).


Martin came home and we grilled out in the backyard while the boys played in and out of the tent.

On Saturday morning, we headed out to the suburbs to visit Legoland—for the second time in as many weeks. The Legoland Discovery Center just opened in July, and although it's not really as exciting as I had hoped it would be, it's still a fun couple hours. The boys really wanted to show Martin all the fun stuff there, but of course it was quite a different feeling visiting it on a Saturday morning as compared to a Monday afternoon (when we first went). We still managed to have a good time.



We made small talk with R2D2.



We built a tower around Max.



The boys checked out Hagrid's keys.



Martin was almost eaten by a lion, but Otto scared the lion away.



Max admired the glow of the crystals.



We all saw the 4-D Lego movie together, which was one of the highlights, but in all the excitement of putting on the glasses, we forgot to photograph ourselves. We're still trying to figure out why it is called 4-D, but it was lots of fun. It was Martin's first 3-D movie ever, so that was exciting in itself.

The most disappointing part about the adventure is the Lego Factory tour, which is just a room set up with a machine which isn't actually producing Legos but is supposed to show you how it would be done. The guy who leads the tour puts on a really high-pitched voice, which I assume he thinks is funny for the kids but really is just very belittling (and annoying). And when the kids asked questions about how the machine worked, he stifled them by saying, "All questions at the end, we're on a tight schedule," or in other words, "I don't have any idea," or at least, "I know, but I don't care to tell you right now."

Aside from that complaint, we had lots of fun. And conveniently located around the corner is Ikea. We went looking for a bookshelf, but the one we wanted is discontinued. Major disappointment. We ended up buying mostly food (coffee, cookies, salmon). But look at how cool Max looked with the Ikea cart in the background—a perfect fit.



Sunday morning, we ate some of the lox we bought at Ikea. It was the perfect use for the homemade bread I made on Friday (which was now in need of toasting).




Then a little walk through the neighborhood.



And to the park, where, conveniently, there was an ice cream vendor.



A Bit of Baking

We had a couple of cooler days Thursday and Friday, so I thought it would be a good idea to heat up the house with some baking. Why in the world would we want to just sit around and feel comfortably cool?

I made blueberry muffins on Thursday, and since we ate almost all of them before the day's end, we made a batch of banana muffins on Friday (complete with chocolate chips, which we later realized made them completely unappealing for Martin). I also made two loaves of bread, so we could enjoy some of those delicious farmer's market and CSA tomatoes we've been getting.

While the oven was on, I roasted up a couple of eggplants and made Barbara Kafka's "Sort of Italian Egglplant Caviar," the only way I like to eat eggplant. I didn't take any photos of the big beautiful purple egglplants before I roasted them, nor did I manage to get a good photo of the beautiful green color it turns when you add in all the basil. It is more akin to pesto than any eggplant dish I know. And I can assure you, it was very tasty. Next time, I'll try to get a photo.

Oh, and here's the recipe, for anyone who might want to try it (or who thinks they don't like eggplant):

2 large eggplants (1 1/4 pounds each)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 cups loosely packed basil leaves
3 to 5 cloves of garlic
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Roast eggplants at 400 degrees for about 1 1/2 hours. They will sage and possibly burst, look ugly, and be very tender inside.

While eggplants are in the oven, combine all remaining ingredients except parsley in a blender and blend until you have a smooth green cream with no dark spots.

Remove eggplants from oven and using 2 forks, immediately tear each eggplant open. Scrape out the pulp onto the hot baking sheet. Let it sizzle and brown. This will help some of the juice evaporate. If there are still puddles of juice, sponge them up. Discard dry skins.

Put pulp into large bowl. Continue to pull apart until finely shredded*, almost chopped. Thoroughly mix in basil mixture and parsley. Cover and refrigerate for up to 3 days, or until 20 minutes before serving.

*Note: I actually put everything in the food processor and make it more like a spread. Easy and also less evident that it was once eggplant, both of which work for me.

Our Gnome

Paris

Martin spent the last week in Paris on business (mixed in with a little pleasure). I am not sure what we were thinking in at least one regard: we kept the camera here with us in Chicago so that we could take riveting photos of ourselves at Starbucks, while Martin was left with a camera phone to document Versailles.

He sent us a few photos along the way to make us really envious, most of them about the delicious food he was consuming. The photos and calls would come in at such funny moments, and I was laughing to compare what he was doing with what we were doing at any given moment. So I thought it might be fun to do a little compare/contrast exercise.

Martin had breakfast at an organic bakery.



We played with Star Wars Lego at our neighborhood Starbucks.



Martin had delicious dinners at Parisian bistros. Can you believe that they can even make a can of sardines look beautiful and appetizing?





We went to McDonalds two days in a row to collect the Clone Wars/Happy Meal toys.



Martin made a quick stop at the Eiffel Tower.



He spent a morning and an afternoon strolling through the gardens of Versailles, which was conveniently located right next to his hotel.





He found art on trees.



And he found art on the street.



We climbed the light pole statue and found chalk art on the sidewalk.



Martin dove into this gorgeous pool.



We dove into a tub of Star Wars action figures.



Martin drove through roundabouts.



He found a Jewish deli.



He stopped in at more sidewalk cafes.



And he sent even more food photos.





This is the breakfast room at the Westin, where he stayed (actually called the Trianon Palace). It bears no resemblance to the Westin breakfast rooms I have visited.




I could take it no longer, and we stopped in at Cafe Selmarie to admire our citiy's own beautiful pastry work.



The kids had cupcakes, and Boba Fett looked on.



And after we had an almost European-like afternoon roaming around the streets of Lincoln Square, we played in the plaza and listened to live music as the sun was setting. It's not Paris, but it's pretty darn good.



Martin is now home, adjusting to the Chicago time zone and the chaos of the house that he left behind for five days. And just to help him a bit with the adjustment, we watched Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, shot entirely on location in Versailles.

Martin said he was happy to be back with us. I hope Martin thinks that even though Paris was amazing, life with us is even better.

Air & Water Show

Last week, the boys and I went over to the lakefront to watch the 50th Annual Chicago Air and Water Show. We went to the abbreviated Friday show, which was just from 3-5 pm, and although at first Max was sure he'd want to return on the weekend (along with 2.2 million other people), by the end of the show, we all decided that two hours was just about right.

Our house is in their flight path, and we hear them zooming overhead on their way west to turn around and fly back to the beach. We had been catching glimpses of them in their practice session earlier in the week, and we even raced over to the beach to see what we could see on Thursday, but by the time we got there, the Blue Angels had just finished their practice session, and no more planes were in sight. We went to the zoo instead (just as we did last Thursday afternoon), so it was still a wonderful day.

We prepared ourselves a bit better for the show on Friday, taking some snacks and a sheet and some sand toys.

Here are the opening planes, making pretty pictures in the sky.



I am pretty sure Otto is just pointing at the parachuter with his stick, but I can't be certain. The Golden Knights parachuted down, and Bill Murray made the jump with them. When the announcer kept giving us an update of where Bill Murray was, Max became quite interested in his progress and kept asking, "Is that Bill Murray? Where is Bill Murray now?" It was really funny, as he has no idea who Bill Murray is, but was so concerned about him. For anyone interested, he (and his Golden Knights co-parachuter) made a perfect landing.





More planes, more patterns.





I realized well into the event that my camera was simply not going to give me any good photos of these planes, so I concentrated on taking photos of my boys. Max was rolling around in the warm sand.



And playing with it.





Otto fell asleep.



Max complained he was bored with the Blue Angels and wanted to see some other sorts of planes. "Something not blue." He seemed to have been more excited to have gotten the brief glimpses of planes from our back yard than he was by the 20 (or more?) minute spectacle they put on, including all sorts of heart-stopping maneuvers. I suppose it proves again that less is more. I still haven't quite learned how to do that in my writing or my photo sharing. But it's something to strive for.



Beautiful Days

The weather has been so very nice these last two weeks, and we have been out appreciating it. Last week we went to the park with our homeschool group. It's one of my newly favorite parks, as it is right on the beach, which is a small but quiet part of the beach with nice view of the city.

Because I came completely unprepared with towels or extra clothes, naturally the children went right into the water.



And then the sand.




The next day we went to the zoo. They sat on their favorite bronze gorilla.



I forgot to turn my flash on or this shot, but I really like how it captured Max in silhouette, where he looks much younger than he is. Somehow it captures the little tiny boy that is still there, the one that I sometimes forget is still so little. He really likes to climb through this maze, and often Otto will go with him, but this time Otto felt like Max would go too fast and he couldn't keep up, and Otto didn't want to be up there so high all by himself, so Otto and I watched from below.



We checked in on the big bear. Sleeping, as usual.



Otto tried to organize a group of ants.



I requested both boys pose for a picture, but they complained it was too sunny.





It was a really lovely afternoon, the sky was blue but full of big puffy white clouds. I wanted to get a photo of them with the sky behind them, and Otto was willing to put his arm around Max, but Max was not so sure he was up for posing for the camera. I like what I captured instead.



With this in mind:

"It is a fact of life that any discourse, on any subject, whatever the occasion and whatever the status of the speaker, will always please if it is five minutes shorter than people expect."
Paul Johnson, quoted in the London Spectator

I give you this summary of our weekend. We stayed local: walking in the neighborhood, hanging in the backyard, grilling out (and then doing it again the next day), visiting the local farmer's market. And it was all good.

If a Tree Falls...

on a street where you normally park your car, but not only is your car NOT there, but there are actually no cars in its path, you will probably feel really really lucky.


Streets and sanitation came to chop it up, and we counted the rings to assess how old it was. Conflicting accounts gauge the tree to be anywhere between 3 and 300 years old, but somewhere in the middle might be close. (I counted about 75 rings.)

08.08.08

I realize the last three posts here are about celebrations of some sort (birthdays, anniversaries). It is just that time of year for my friends and family, I suppose.

Our dear friend Wendi celebrated her birthday on Friday, when the date was 08.08.08. Isn't that a cool day? When I learned her only plans for the evening were to go to rehearsal (where they did plan a small celebration), we convinced her to stop by after that for some cake and our own little celebration for her. Max had been wanting to make chocolate beet cake, and it was the perfect excuse (especially since we still hadn't finished our snowman cake).

The boys made her some cards, and I made her a CD, Martin found some champagne, and by the time she arrived, we almost had a party ready for her.

Wendi even employed Max and Otto to assist her in blowing out her three candles.



Then we all urged her to join us on our Wii Fit, to ski and hula hoop and walk a tight rope. She trampled my hula hooping record and showed such skill at all the games on her first tries that we could have been pretty embarrassed about our own skills, but somehow, we were just all really happy to share the Wii love.

And after much merriment, the boys finally went off to bed, and Wendi and I stayed up talking until about 4, and her birthday was long past when she finally went home (where she stayed up at least another two hours, since she sent me a couple of emails with a very telling time stamp). Wendi is on a different schedule than the average person, which is so completely fitting, because she is not your average person. And we are so lucky to have her as our friend.

40 Years

My parents celebrated their 40th anniversary last week. It was actually when we were all gathered together for my Uncle Bob's birthday party, but my parents have always had a pretty low-key way of celebrating their day, usually involving a really delicious dinner together and a nice bottle of wine, and they did not want much of a to-do made about it. It was funny because I actually didn't realize it was their 40th anniversary until we were making the drive to Ohio. I knew it was their anniversary, and I had planned to wish them well, which is about all I ever do for them on their day. I always calculate their anniversary by using my age, as it is a quick calculation: my age +1. Of course, that assumes that I can actually remember my own age.

Anyway, when I added it up and realized it was going to be a big one, I called my brother, and we quickly discussed what something as monumental as a 40 year anniversary would warrant. When my grandparents celebrated their 40th anniversary, their much more considerate children (granted, there were 6 of them) put together a huge party, and enlisted all of the grandchildren to perform various sketches to demonstrate the family's love for each other (well, I am not sure what they demonstrated, because if I remember correctly, I think we put on a circus for them). My dad and his siblings made an amazing collage for my grandparents, which featured photographs of all their children and grandchildren, notes their children had written to them, and vice versa, newspaper clippings about the family, small pieces of history, such as a grocery receipt from the early years of their marriage. In other words, their children went to great lengths to celebrate them.

I don't have a collage to offer, but let me see if I can at least come up with a suitable photograph of my wonderful parents.

Look at this, I'm growing more inconsiderate by the moment. I can't even find a picture of the two of them together. What sort of daughter am I?! Oh, here is a photo of my dad, covered in lipstick kisses from my mom. So it's sort of a photo to represent their love.



My parents have what I think can be said to be an ideal marriage. Truly, I have never even heard them argue in my entire life (something I appreciate even more as an adult, but I definitely appreciated it as a child too). They still hold hands and cuddle on the couch every night. They make each other laugh, they make other people around them laugh, and they truly enjoy each other's company. They are perfectly paired in terms of temperament (they are both pretty mellow and accepting), they appreciate each other and demonstrate this on a daily basis by the little considerations they have for each other.

My dad will be in a hurry to go to a meeting (because although he has lived on this earth for more than 60 years, he simply has still not understood that he will always underestimate the number of minutes he has left before he really and absolutely must leave the house to be somewhere by a certain time), but he'll stop for a moment in the garden to pick some flowers and write my mom a quick note. She will find the flowers and most likely some dirt he tracked in at the same time. She will vacuum up the dirt and concentrate on the flowers. Then she will throw some laundry in the washing machine, some whites, perhaps. And when they emerge she might notice there was also a new, bright red sock in there. The next morning, my dad will put on his pink t-shirt without a single complaint.

My dad is an avid collector (although I suppose this term can make it sound a bit more organized than it is). His collections include things such as giant metal scrap objects he has found at a salvage lot that he may or may not do something with at some point. Although she occasionally asks if he has noticed that big pile of junk along the driveway, my mom has accepted and embraced a long list of things that some people would find unacceptable.

They even accept and even delight in each other's foibles. My mother has taken over the driving for almost all occasions, since my father is prone to looking at the landscape instead of the road—they have found a mutually agreeable way for them to be in the car together and both enjoy the ride. And once, when my mother backed over a small expensive sports car with my dad's big truck, literally driving onto the hood of the vehicle before she noticed her error, my dad said to her, endearingly, honestly, sweetly, "How could you have known it was back there?" Oh, that story still makes me laugh.

You see what I mean about them?

Anyway, in lieu of their grandchildren putting on a circus for them, or even giving them tickets to Cirque de Soleil, I am sending them this, a blog post, a very small and even belated token of my love for them and their love for each other. Happy anniversary Mom and Dad. I promise I'll do better for your 50th.

Proclamations, or One Last Summer Trip

We rounded out our summer travel plans with one last trip, this one of the road variety. And officially we have proclaimed ourselves to be done with traveling for at least three weeks (when we may or may not decide to take one more road trip, but by which time it will be September, and we intend to make the case that this is not really summer travel, but instead an Autumn Adventure, and yes, I realize that it's still officially summer then).

My Uncle Bob celebrated his 65th birthday, and the crowds gathered to wish him well and to give him hugs. He is not one to have a birthday party (apparently he rarely even had them as a child), and he does not like to be on the receiving end of so much attention, but he handled the throng of people that descended on his house and garden with grace and, I think, a great deal of appreciation. We were all so happy to be together in such a beautiful place—the party was held at my Aunt Marianne and Uncle Bob's home, where my grandparents lived, where my dad grew up. It is the family house I have visited since I was a baby, the lawn where I spent my July 4th celebrations and it houses the stairs I sat on for Christmases for my entire childhood and much of my adulthood. In other words, it is a very special place for all of us.

Here are the boys, readying themselves for our road trip, and showing off their new "Cars car trays," which gave them a space to draw, a flat surface on which to eat, and cupholders for holding, um, markers and goldfish crackers. Why didn't I get these sooner?



Upon arrival at Marianne and Bob's, we went straight for the Koi pond.



Marianne and Bob are avid hosta gardeners. Their collection is amazing, and they have their own hosta nursery.



Here's a photo that I love, mostly because of my brother David's sweet smile. I don't take nearly enough pictures of my beautiful little brother (see, I didn't even take this one, Martin did). This picture really captures him, and I only wish I saw him (and his smile and his wife and his children) much more often.



And here's Jill (my sister in law) playing Carnival of Venice, her birthday gift to my uncle (and all of us as well). You may recognize this as the folk tune most popularly associated with it that goes "My hat, it has three corners," which seems like a simple enough little ditty, but I assure you it is a "show-off" piece, or as Jill revealed, it was her "money piece," and it is a very impressive tune, involving a very complicated bit of double and triple tounging that at times makes it sound like more than one flute is playing. Only Jill was playing here, but if you want to see a really funny version of it with two people actually playing one flute, you can see it (and hear it) here (worth checking out if you thought a flute could only be played by one person at a time).



Max spent a good deal of time at a table that was situated far away from the maddening crowd.



My cousin Keith finally succeeded in holding Otto, after many previously declined requests.



The man of the hour, the weekend, and more: here is Uncle Bob blowing out his birthday candles (he later warned us all that he spit on the cake). He is a man who does not give speeches, but when pressed, he did announce he had one thing to say to all of us, and as we all took in a big breath for what might that might be, he said, "Today is not my birthday."



My mom and Aunt Linda gave him hugs.



My Uncle Bob and Aunt Marianne.



My cousin Christopher and his girlfriend Mallory, who met the entire family for the first time at the party.



It was the most wonderful evening, the weather was gorgeous, the garden was so peaceful, the guests came and left at the appropriate times, and the family lingered until it was dark, catching fireflies and one brave cicada, who we actually saw crawl out of his exoskeleton. Bubbles were blown, Euchre games were played, more drinks were poured. There was a rousing game of tag that Christopher and Mallory played with all the kids, and there was so much energy and exuberance displayed by the two of them that, intentionally or not, they secured their places as "most sought after babysitters" with all of the parents and as "funnest adults around" by all of the kids.

The next morning, Sunday, we headed out to Allardale, where we made a big breakfast and hung out in the picnic shelter all morning. My other Uncle Bob (well, really, he is the "original" Uncle Bob, so it gets a bit confusing here, but for the purposes of this post, he is the latter mentioned Bob and therefore the "other Bob") and Christopher (who happens to be a vegan) were responsible for grilling the bacon to perfection (which they most certainly did).



A hug? A wrestling maneuver? Sometimes they are the same thing.



Aunt Jill found a toad, and Max was happy to carry him around for as long as he was agreeable about it (the toad, that is).



We all hiked up to the hill and the kids climbed on the big rock overlooking the valley.



We actually had another surprise for Bob as we all gathered at the top of the hill. The family gift to Bob was a bench for the park, to be placed at the top of this overlook, where he spent many days sitting with my Great Uncle Stanley. The whole family collaborated to write a lengthy, and in our estimation, very funny proclamation, which was delivered by my dad, and we all raised our Bloody Marys to toast Bob (who is also affectionately known as Woody).

Here is the proclamation, mostly for my own recollection and perhaps a few of my family members:

Whereas Robert Nissley Woodside, having shown great love for this land and those who people it;
And whereas, aforesaid has demonstrated this love through various and sundry ways, seemly and unseemly;
And whereas, aforesaid has spent numerous pleasurable hours with the owner of these lands, Stanely, watching Lawrence Welk, drinking port, demonstrating pruning skills in the valley below, feeding birds, and otherwise serving said gentleman;
And whereas aforesaid has demonstrated exceptional dedication to the Art of Eating, followed by the Art of Cleaning Up, to an annoying degree;
And whereas aforesaid has further graced this ground with a wedding to his beloved Marianne;
And whereas on this hill, by this rock, overlooking this valley, he plighted his troth to aforementioned damsel;
And whereas aforesaid has annually and lovingly and mostly graciously opened his home to the Allard Christmas;
And whereas aforementioned has demonstrated great enthusiasm and unparllelled skill in making coffee;
And whereas aforesaid has exercised a keen eye and ruthless hand at weeding invaders of his garden, thwarting their advance;
And whereas aforesaid has sought and displayed Grumpa skills replete with love and patience, still working on the patience bit;
And whereas aforesaid has exhitibed excellent taste in fine malts and exquisite judgement in this, his choice of family;
And whereas aforesaid has demonstrated by act and by deed, by heart and by soul, by gosh and by golly, that he is in all ways integral and inextricably entwined with this clan, and loved by such clan;
And so saying,
Now therefore be it resolved that a great wooden construction thing be erected at this very place, to support those who traverse these trails, upon which to rest their tired bony asses (or full bodied ones);
And further resolved that this bench be designated in celebration of Robert Nissley Woodside, and maintained as such in perpetuity;
And further and finally, that this bench may be affectionately called, by all those who share in this spirit, as "Ol' Woody."

Otto thought this toast to Bob was hilarious (he and Otto laughed along with everyone else, and sometimes much longer and louder) and was blocking my view for most of the delivery, so this is the only still photo I managed to get of the toast.



We sat and sipped our drinks and looked at the beautiful view. And then we all decided to take a little hike through the park. Two hours later, we were finally back to the pavilion and ready to embark on our drive back to Chicago.

Highlights from the hike:

Max and Grandpa looking for fish.



The stepping stones and very enticing muddy water, to which almost every boy succumbed.



Walking down the "sledding hill," where we spent many lovely winter days. Note to selves: remind the park staff that they need to mow some of these trails more regularly. We ventured past a fallen tree, where there once was a path, only to find it was overgrown with tall, scratchy, weedlike stuff. It was quite an adventure with a troop of little kids.



And finally, we were ready to come home, with a car full of some of Marianne and Bob's hostas to add to our own garden. Oooo-eeee! :)



Happy Birthday, Uncle Bob! And oh, today is definitely not your birthday.

Cirque de Soleil...

has inspired a small start-up troop, Cirque de Doorway.



Last week, we saw Kooza, the most recent creation of the incredible Cirque de Soleil, and while weren't able to take any photos of the actual event, this video clip will be a much better document of the experience than we could ever make. Max and Otto were mostly amazed and delighted, but the show was quite long, and it moved more slowly than Saltimbanco (at least my recollection of Saltimbanco, anyway), so Max was ready to go before it was over. Still, they are absolutely amazing, and both kids have been performing their own circus tricks since we saw them. Oh, and Martin was really impressed and only thought we should have gone all out and put ourselves in the better seats—he had never seen them before, so it was really exciting to share in the wonder that is Cirque de Soleil.

And Why Not?

Tuesday was hot, and as we sat sweating in our non-air-conditioned apartment, we decided the best thing to do was to turn on the oven and bake a snowman cake.

Best. Mail. Ever.