goods and heroes

florida, take two

Okay, first of all, my camera has internally combusted, after only 4 solid months of ownership, and as far as I can tell neither Ben nor myself are at fault here. Anyhow, I haven't been able to snap shots of anything that's been going on around here. And that would include a super festive Fried Chicken Party last Sunday (with my sister Sylvia in town who made the world's finest, flakiest biscuits) and an early morning bird walk through Millennium Park on Saturday where I spotted a Mockingbird--which apparently is a huge deal as they are rare this far north. Anyhow, it's going to be interesting to see how quickly Canon services the lemon, I mean my broken camera.

And I am leaving early Friday morning for a somewhat last minute trip to Key West to celebrate my girlfriend Suzi's 40th birthday. That's right, back to Florida. This will be the first time that I have ever been away from Ben. I'll actually be away for three nights and four days. Which means it will be the first time ever that Ted will be alone with Ben at night. (Which means if you live nearby, you might want to call in on my lovely husband and just give him props and cheer him on for being such a trooper.) To be completely honest, I'd say we're just a smidgen freaked out around here about the prospect of it all.  At least Ted and I seem to be . . . Ben just toddles around, jamming various objects in his mouth, blathering on about this and that and climbing on "forbidden" things and usually falling off of them, crying and then running to hug my knees with astonishing passion. Then he cackles to himself, is distracted by a green ball or a board book and starts the whole wild cycle again. Sam seems to be quite cool with me going back to Florida.  Double entendre-wise for sure.

Here's a snap from our Longboat trip at the beginning of the month . . . I'd found these urchins on the beach one morning while going on a walk. Once the urchin washes ashore and eventually dies, its spiky purple spikes snap off to reveal a gorgeous, intricate jewel-like shell. Sam is pointing out the spikes. Life's been a little spikey lately, not bad but just you know, spikey. We'll see how I go on the blogging front sans camera. Wait, who cares about the bloody camera, we'll see how I'll do four days away from my boys. Especially little Ben. I'll be just fine, right? Tell me I'll be fine. Of course I will. And Ted will be fine and so will Ben and Sam. Right? Right. Sigh. Well, I'll let you know if I see any urchins or any other spikey creatures.

on the line

It's quite early on this April morning, and Ben is tearing around the apartment, tossing balls, riding his scooter, hollering out "I, I, I!" (Or maybe he's saying, "Aye, aye, aye!)  . . . and I wanted to post a link to an article which ran in the New York Times last week, it was about how some people in North America are hanging their clothes out to dry, even though it's--get this--illegal to do so where they live. Yep, that's right, tons of cities and suburbs and creepy gated housing "communities" ban hanging your laundry out to dry. Because there's some (inane) perception that it's unsightly and has associations with poverty. Do we live in a wacky country, or what?

Now down in Australia, they've been hanging out their laundry to dry since, since, I don't know, I think they've been hanging out their laundry out since there's been laundry to do. You know why? Well, because it saves tons of money and electricity, plus it doesn't heat up your house (by having the dryer going) and it lets the sun do the work and keeps your clothes bright and good smelling. When I arrived at the Gurrins' house waaaaaay back in 1984, one of the first chores I was assigned was to hang out the washing. Mum handed me a laundry basket with wet clothes, pointed toward to back yard and I looked at her with nothing less than astonishment and pure cluelessness. What? How? Don't get me wrong, I knew how to deal with loads of laundry. I'd been going with my own mother to laundromats longer than I'd even want to admit. I knew how to feed quarters into a dryer and I could fold clothes like nobody's business. But hanging out the washing?

But then Tracey, my host sister, went out with me and showed me how to hang the clothes properly. I didn't even know what to do with a clothespin and which direction to hang the "knickers" and "singlets." That's undies and tank tops to my stateside pals. (Just so you know, there is an art form/undiscussed sense of what is right in regard to how you hang and pin your clothes. It has a lot to do with how you want them to hang and where you don't want to see the little pinched mark of the clothespin.)  And you know what? I learned to like it. It slowed my 16 year-old Yank jumbled brain and awkward body down. It was purposeful (although I didn't think about it in those terms at the time) I liked that it was an outside chore. I liked how the clothes smelled like sun and faintly of soap. I used to hang up the washing, sing Tim Finn songs in my head and day dream about a hunky local AM radio sports reporter named David Salmon asking me to watch him play rugby.

So in November when I went back to Oz, I was thrilled to see that Tracey and Craig were all about hanging the laundry out. (And Mum still too, of course.) And I jumped right back into the act. At some point I was out there in the back yard, full sun blazing, clipping Ben's wee little cotton pants next to my shorts, next to one of Tracey's tops, next to Craig's jeans and I smiled. Some things change after 20+ years, and somethings don't. Tracey even told me that when they were all visiting my sister's farm in Colorado a couple of summers ago they insisted on hanging their laundry out to dry, rigging up their own line from a couple of old Cottonwood trees. They couldn't believe that in sunny, dry, supposedly eco-aware Boulder, people were still just mindlessly stuffing their clothes into their electric dryers. They kind of had a point, I reckon.

Anyhow, I couldn't get the article from the Times, because I don't have a password, but in my Google search, I found something even better. I stumbled upon Project Laundry List, a non-profit group dedicated to bringing back the "lost art" of hanging your laundry out to dry.  Here's their website, check it out. It's a little hokey looking but there's some good stuff on it, especially the "Top 10 Reasons to Hang Your Laundry Out." There's even a blog dedicated to putting your laundry on the line. While we currently have nowhere to actually hang our laundry (unless we hung it in the alley and then I think we'd wake up to find it um, gone -- Laundry for the Homeless is good in spirit but not something we can tackle right now) I can't wait until the day when we do have out own little yard and we can put up a clothesline and enjoy such a simple, good task. And maybe one day Sam will be outside in his 16 year-old growing body, hanging the laundry on the line, slowing himself down, rocking out to some tune in his head and getting that lovely whiff of sun and soap coming off a white cotton t-shirt. Now that my friends, sounds like progress. Or just how it's always been in some places.

happy earth day

hey there, happy dia del mundo--it's our day to celebrate the Earth and all we can do to protect her.

I have never been interested in guilting people into action. I am much more interested in inspiring or even empowering people into action. So I have just this tiny, maybe even tepid little show and tell for my Earth Day post. I didn't plant a tree or even pick up trash. Nope. What I did was walk, walk, walk with my family. Ted, Ben, Sam and I walked to school and then to the babysitters, and then I walked to the train to go to work, then took it back home and then Ted and I walked back to school to pick up Sam and to the sitters to pick up Ben. And that was it. But we walked. And it was lovely. Righteously so.

And over the weekend, by trotting around to a church sale, a used book store and neighborhood yard sale, I saved a few things from the landfill. Including these exquisite old pamphlets books. Oh, the Insect Parade! What's not to love?

I scored this lot from the Edgewater Baptist Church sale. The tiny bird-decorated tray, the wonderful weather book and the totally amazing Land O' Lakes recipe box (filled with recipes all revolving around butter, real, glorious butter!) set me back 75 cents.

I am getting weary of all of the marketing around "green" products and the supposed halo of goodness you "get" when you purchase those things. I mean, when did being environmentally conscious mean you get to be some sort of rabid consumer of new, supposedly environmentally sound items?  I dunno. I don't. But I just know that scoring a few treasures and walking around our 'hood on an especially beautiful day made me thankful and made Earth Day seem sensible and right and good. Until I cut up the California strawberries for Ben and popped the Trader Joe's pizza into the oven, which according to the packaging traveled all the way from Italy. Ahem. Er. Oh. Well. But anyhow, humbly we say to you, while not perfect in any way, Happy Earth Day.

peek a boo

I haven't been hiding from you all, honest . . . but a certain someone has discovered the joys of hiding-- even if for a few giggle-filled seconds.

I forgot how magical a filmy, gauze curtain can be.

throw in a little sunshine and a few sheer circles . . .

and I am happily reminded (by Ben) that everything is so, so good.

soap on a rope (with hope)

I don't think I have ever posted about The Enterprising Kitchen before and I am sort of surprised with myself, because it is one of my favorite non-profits here in Chicago. I'll try and sum its mission up: it works with women who are in need of a wide variety of professional skills and social services by providing employment opportunities . . . by having these women make, mix, package and even market artisanal bath and beauty products. And I have always been smitten by "TEK" products because they look good, they smell delicious and by their very nature carry a good feeling along with them. But most importantly, I am happy, actually thrilled, to say that I really like their products. We've been using their liquid handsoap at home for years now and my mother is alway happy when I send some of their bar soaps in a gift, and my mother is a very persnickety soap and smells person. If it smells too sweet or artificial, she'll give it the evil eye before you can blink.

So if you live in Chicago, TEK is having a "Mother's Day Sale" on May 3rd (a week and one day before Dia de los Mamas).  Their warehouse/facility is pretty inspiring--its in the Ravenswood industrial corridor and open and full of light. If you go, you'll want to buy a few lovely things and it won't set you back much money at all. Plus, you actually get to meet quite a few of the women who make the products. I mean, what's not to like? Even if you can't go or don't live in Chicago, you can always check out their website.

Here's a shot of one of their most popular items which was in itself is something of a fluke. The women were looking for a way to use up all the odds and ends from cutting their soaps and someone came up with the idea if stringing them up like the old "Soap on a Rope." I think I would be happy to hang one in my kitchen window just for the color and scents alone. Might be a nice gift for myself this Mother's Day!

binth

Happy hump day--hey, why don't you make yourself feel just a little better by purchasing something gorgeous? Suzanna just informed me that the Binth team has a sweet little offer going on right now in conjunction with Daily Candy.

Just type in "binthcandy" (one word, no spaces and no apostrophes, those are mine) at checkout on the Binth site and you'll get 25% off any item, like this super great numbers poster. (They also do a series of cards for each number.) Or you could get yourself a jaunty little notepad to place on your desk and inspire you to jot off jaunty little notes.

Or you could get an organic pillow silk-screened with water-based ink to lay your pretty little head upon. Hello Mr. Octopus! Maybe that will help take your mind off taxes. Oh wait, don't think about taxes, think about how you'll be saving 25% and that's such an admirable thing to do. Isn't it?

The deal's on for a week. Happy browsing and maybe even shopping.

a couple of cubans

If there's one single thing that helps me feel connected to a place faster than anything else it's . . . oh, you know the answer don't you? Of course, it's food. And so, even though our trip to Florida was less than perfect with Ben walloped by a righteous stomach flu, on our very last day, we managed to make a wonderful discovery in Tampa.

The morning we were to leave I read about La Teresita on lthforum and also on RoadFood--both sites raving about its food and how cheap it is. After figuring out its location Ted and I realized it was spitting distance from the airport in Tampa, so we padded on an extra half hour of travel time so that we could grab some food before our flight. (And this is why Ted is so good -- because he indulges my last minute diversions and even helps me map them out!)

I have had a thing for Cuban sandwiches ever since I had my first one in Chicago back in '95. I used to get them from a Cuban place on Western Avenue called Cafe Bolero. (It's been closed for years now.) And when Ted and I moved to Denver one of my gripes was that you couldn't find Cuban sandwiches anywhere in the city. Anyhow, La Teresita is this tiny Cuban restaurant with counter-service in one tightly packed room--it appeared mostly to be men in there, construction types. But I also saw a few old Cuban guys nursing their little cafe Cubanos and talking in clipped Spanish. There is a take out side as well and people (mostly women, looking like they worked in nearby offices) kept flowing in picking up orders they had phoned in. The woman who took my order was plump and decked out in gold jewelry and lots of eye shadow, she talked fast and had a super quick smile. I ordered two Cuban sandwiches , a side of beans and rice and a cafe cortado con leche for Ted. The total was 8 bucks and some change.  Pretty bueno, no?

The plan was to eat these on plane. But if family vacations have taught me anything, it's that things don't always go as planned. And in this case, tucking into the crispy bread and the pork/ham combo before I even had my seat belt clicked in was totally fine with me.

And the enormous "side" of black beans and yellow rice smelled so good, I started sampling that while waiting for Ted to come back from the car rental place.

Do you notice the BK burger sitting next to it? That was for Sam, but his stomach went all urpy and he decided not to touch it. But I'll tell you what, it made me laugh because sitting there with my Cuban sandwich and my wickedly savory beans and rice, I thought, "Yeah, I really am having it my way."  And now I actually feel I have a totally different connection with Tampa than just seeing at a place to fly in and out of to get to the sun down in Longboat. Yes, this food connecting thing--it works for me.