goods and heroes

re-thinking soup

I have wanted to go to Re-Thinking Soup at the Jane Addams Hull House Museum for almost three years. I am not exaggerating. But it takes place on Tuesdays at noon and I always worked on Tuesdays and it just didn't seem like I could swing getting there and back without eating up a couple of hours. And when you only have five hours of office time, twice a week, a couple of hours is a lot to burn up. However, this past Tuesday, now recently liberated from the concept of "office time," I finally, finally made it to Re-Thinking Soup. I tell you, anticipating something for several years can be tricky. I mean, you get so full of longing that there's a very good chance whatever you are patiently waiting to experience might not be as fabulous and good as you had built up in both your heart & brain and you'll just end up crestfallen. Or at least rather disappointed. But I am thrilled to say that Re-Thinking Soup was all that I had hoped it would be.

Here's the concept in a nutshell: take the soup kitchen model and tweak it in such a way that anyone can come and have a nutrtitious, hot bowl of soup for free whilst listening to someone, say a farmer, artist, historian or community activist, talk to the group about current economic, social, cultural and political issues.

I enetered the old Residents' Hall, heavy on dark wood beams and gorgeous old windows and it was packed. In fact all the communal tables were taken, but there were chairs and benches along the wall. Apparently it was in this very room that Upton Sinclair, Ida B. Wells, W.E.B. Du Bois, Gertrude Stein and other important social reformers would come together to discuss ther issues of their day. Solid people & predecessors if there ever were for soup eating! After standing in line I was handed a deep, white bowl of tomato-basil soup. (I loved that my bowl had a teeny chip on it.) The tomatoes were grown a block away at the Hull House Urban Farm last summer and then frozen. I also grabbed a homemade seeded hard roll out of a giant basket (I have a thing for hard rolls, they're so utilitarian) and it turns out they were made from flour from Sarah Kavage's Industrial Harvest flour art project. So this wasn't just some soup poured out of #10 cans and nasty white bread from a factory. This was soup made from locally grown tomatoes in a kitchen a few feet away and rolls with a very good back story. Sigh.

I found a spot right under one of those wonderful windows and I looked around the room. I'd say about three-quarters of the group appeared to be students but what I loved was it was students of every size, shape and color. And then those of us who are no longer college age were a motley crew as well: hippies, artists, a tiny bird lady, one grizzled old guy, a fetching man in a beret and a couple of big guys in Carhartt's that looked like they worked the grounds at UIC. We were all there packed in pretty cozily, slurping up our soup (which had a bright summery tomato flavor) and some of us were dunking our hard rolls into the soup and then happily tearing away at the bread. 

The speaker was just okay, she only spoke for like 17 minutes but I did learn a little bit more about the Little Village Environmental Justice Organization. I didn't mind, it was just great to sit with a bunch of strangers enjoying homemade soup on a cold winter's day in Chicago. Next week the speaker is Steve Pincupsy from the Safer Pest Control Project and he's an excellent speaker. Total natural in front of crowd. You should go and listen and have some soup. You might just see me there.

lincoln

Hello. We are back from "Sick-cation 2011." By that I mean Sam had the flu (Type A, whatever that means) for six straight days. But things are looking up. He's got no fever and a little bit more energy. Today was the first time he'd actually left the building (since last Monday) and was able to breathe some fresh air into his crud-filled lungs.

Thankfully, Sam & Ben had no school today due to it being Presidents Day. I wish I could tell you that we did something thoughtful & creative to honor Presidents Washington & Lincoln . . . but I can't. Or that we went to some play or museum and learned a little bit about each of these great men. But we didn't. We made it as far as Target and then Sam started to look a little pekid and we were getting hungry so we came home.

I adore Lincoln, like so many do. And I love that his family moved here to Illinois when he was 21. I want the boys to know his story. So hopefully this summer we can road trip down to Springfield and visit his home and also check out the Memorial Gardens, which were designed by Jens Jensen. But I don't want to wait that long to start the conversation. So tonight we'll start reading this slim book together.

I got this book at the thrift store for 25 cents. (I think President Lincoln would appreciate my thrift!) It has amazing woodblock prints throughout, which for some reason proved to be insanely difficult to photograph. Oh well, you get the idea. The artist who made them is named Charles Turzak. And it turns out that not only was he born in Illinois (to Czech immigrants) he actually lived in Chicago for much of his life. Check out this site, his work is so gorgeous and quite inspiring.

And so this simple, little book, which is still in print (!)  begins, "On February 12, 1809, a boy baby was born in Kentucky. He was born in a little cabin made of logs." Tonight after supper we will honor Abraham Lincoln by reading his story. And talking about his life. That's how you keep the power of a person alive. And when we go around to say what we're each thankful for I'm going to say, first, I am thankful that Sam is getting better and second, I am so grateful that Abraham Lincoln was such a brilliant and brave man.

ps: If I have time in the next week or so, I might actually whip up some Lincoln t-shirts, 'coz Abe is a powerful guy 365 days a year. There's a super helpful tutorial & free template for Lincoln freezer-stencils over at Dana-Made. Or I could also pick up one of these over at Rotofugi. I love the fact that Abe Lincoln is Cool. Very Cool.

pps: It turns out that Dover Publications has reprinted a series of 36 woodcuts of Lincoln that Charles Turzak had originally published in a book for the 1933 Century of Progress Exhibition. It's on sale for ten bucks. A great addition to any Lincoln geek's library.

I like that Valentine's Day is messy

but simple and happy when it's all about the kids. 

the long coat story

I never thought I'd write a post about coats but sometimes this blog surprises even me.  Here's the deal: For the last 10 years almost all of my winter coats have come from thrift shops or have been handed down to me by friends and family. And I have been so happy about this. I mean, what's not to like about getting something so utlitarian (and crucial when you live in the city of Chicago and do quite a bit of work outdoors) like a coat for little or no money? But recently I had a slight change of heart and big plans, people. Big. Coat Plans. More on that later. For now, a little rundown on some of my coats from the last decade or so.

I got this coat probably around the time Sam was born. I scored it at the great little thrift shop on Clark Street that was run by a moody Russian lady and it was $6. (Sadly, the thrift store is now a fancy furniture shop that is overpriced and not my style.) It was made in England and I adore the safety orange color.  I am not certain that anyone else feels the same way. No one has ever said "That's a great coat," to me before. But that's okay. It has this heavy sail-cloth feel to it but actually it's on the light side, so I always have to wear a fleece under it. Not necessarily a bad thing but sometimes I feel a little cumbersome. And on really crazy freezing days like we've had of late, it just doesn't keep me quite warm enough. But I still wear it occasionally, have been wearing it all week actually.

My friend Suzie gave me this jacket about 4 or 5 years ago. She has more style in her pinky toe than I'll ever possess in my whole being. And she can pull off looks I didn't even realize were an option. Like crazy purply-red furry tassle things on the collar of a slightly metallic wine-colored jacket. From Oililly no less. This coat is so un-like me that when I put it on I feel both punk-y and a teeny bit fancy. At the same time. Plus it fits me snugly and it's quite warm (and soft and fuzzy on the inside). Once one of my co-workers looked at me and said, "I would have never believed in a million years that you would wear such a jacket. But it looks good on you. And it's fun!" It is fun. And when you have to slog through the brutality of a long Chicago winter, why not have fun and potentially look good? But it's kind of short at the waist and some days I want to be a little more mellow and that bright red clowny fur just doesn't let you blend in with the crowd. I still dig it though and it's still in mild rotation. But I have to be in the mood for it.

I got this coat last year. I had spent two years doing a lot of winter programs and walks in the garden and I was tired of being kind of cold. And so very orange. What I really wanted was one of those long down coats but when Ted and I went looking at them in a few shops I had a bit of sticker shock. $300, realIy? I scored this at the Brown Elephant on Halsted in Boys Town. It was in the Men's section but it's a Woman's coat. I think I paid $12 for it, which seemed kind of steep in terms of thrift store pricing but obviously considerably cheaper than three hundred bones. It fits me like a glove and I have worn the hell out of it.

In fact, I have been wearing all through this epic winter and then a couple of things happened. First, the zipper got caught in the door jamb twice, the first time it lost the actual zipper pull and the second time it got so crushed that it could no longer move. The big orange jacket came back into heavy roation. And something else happened. I started to get serious Long Down Jacket Envy. I'd see someone walking in a long down coat and they didn't look freezing, they looked warm. (Most of the time.) I began polling my friends and neighbors and strangers in the store. "Do you like your long down coat?' Where did you buy it? Do you think I deserve a long down jacket after years of buying coats from thrift shops even though I am currently unemployed?" The answers were mostly: Yes, on-line and Yes, you deserve a new jacket, don't be silly. Go buy one. Go. Go. But don't pay full retail. Get it on sale.

And so on Monday of this week I decided I would begin researching long down jackets on-line and that I would purchase one and that I would wear it for a decade to justify the cost. Life got in the way and I had some writing to do and I had a few lovely lunches in a row. I was still bopping around in my old orange coat, but I was cool with it because I knew a long down jacket was in my future. I was walking home from a few errands on Clark Street when I remembered we needed to replace our broken Brita water pitcher. I was right in front of the Brown Elephant thrift shop, so I quickly ducked in. Sure enough, there on the top of the housewares rack was a completely intact pitcher for $3. So I grabbed it. Out of habit and perhaps a bit of that strange curiosity that creeps up on you when you walk into a thrift shop, I walked over to the coats. Not much at first, old leathers, tired Vintage wool, cheap, stained jackets from Target and then . . . this.

Well, I guess I've blown the punch line since you see it hanging on my door so you know it came home with me. But indulge me. I'm almost done. It's a dark grey down filled coat and it fits me so well. The brand is Hagenson, which put a twinkle in my eye as my Grandma Ruthie's maiden name is Hagen. I thought it might be made in some Scandinavean country but when I looked closer at the label it said "Russ 34." Closer inspection on the label that tells you how to wash/care for it revealed a bunch of Russian characters that made no sense to me and then "MADE IN RUSSIA." That's right it was made in Russia. Now I figure they might know a thing or two about winter in Russia and that might bode well for this coat. And for me.

Oh sure, it isn't a brand name any of us recognize -- there's no North Face stitching in white screaming up there on the shoulder. But I don't care a whit about brand names. I'm more interested in something that is well-made and will keep me warm and fits properly. And that seemed to be what was going on with this coat. The price tag said $24. I was really on the fence (I know, I'm insane) but then right in front of my nose was an orange sign proclaiming that all clothing was 50% off. So I got it for $12. And there was 36 cents in the right pocket. And a tiny folded up scrap of paper that was completely blank. I think I skipped home, watching carefully so as not to slip on the huge patches of ice.

Maybe next year I'll get a real coat, the kind that you buy on-line or at Dick's Sporting Goods or Sierra Trading Post, someplace like that. But for now I am quite happy with my 12 dollar Brown Elephant Russian Long Down Hagenson Jacket. And you're welcome to tell me how warm and happy I look in my "new" jacket next time you see me.

blizzardcraft: crayon hearts

While the blizzard that dumped 20+ inches on Chicago may have been a royal pain in the neck for some (oh you poor souls trapped on Lake Shore Drive) for me and the boys it has been a complete blast. On Wednesday evening our street looked like it was having a Block Club Party. The kids were running around, even though it was dark outside and the parents were standing around laughing and catching up. Only instead of casually holding cold beers, folks were holding shovels dripping with snow and you could hear the snow blowers in the alley. We've had three school-less snow days, we've dug around in the snow with our neighbors, we've eaten something like 10 home-cooked meals in a row (wait, that might not be totally correct as I don't think dropping dried Ramen noodles into boiling water qualifies as um, home-cooking) and we've stayed up later than we normally would and we've slept in because we could. I'm going to be kind of blue when Monday rolls up and reality hits.

Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Yesterday I actually had the time and all the materials needed to get going on Ben's classroom valentines. If you've read this blog for a while you know that Valentines Day is a Huge Deal at the boys' school and that suits me just fine. I've had a lot of fun coming up with ideas for homemade valentines and the last few years have managed to recycle/repurpose things that would have otherwise been tossed out. And please don't think me Psycho Overachiever Parent Lady for starting them on the 3rd of February -- the teachers actually encourage starting them a few weeks early since the assembly-line nature of making valentines can be a tad slow for pre-schoolers. So yesterday seemed like the perfect day to get started.

Last year I'd seen a post over on The Long Thread about making heart-shaped crayons and told myself I wanted to make them for Ben's classmates. Then last summer a colleague of mine showed up at my desk with a small bucket of old crayons. "I was home this weekend and my mom was going to throw these out, they were mine when I was little. I'm hoping you can do something with them." So hey there Sylvia, wherever you are over in England, I did do something with them . . . well at least some of them.

First, you have to peel the paper off the crayons. Go for the brighter colors and avoid browns and blacks.  Just so you know, this step takes longer than you think it is going to. Luckily my bag of crayons had quite a few unpeeled bits already in it and I didn't have anywhere to go.

Then you break up the crayons into thirds, using your hands or a chopper of some kind. Ben helped me chop some of the thicker ones. Be prepared for crayon bits to go flying. Ben and Ricky the cat had a good time chasing these down.

Ben and I put the broken bits into a Silpat pan with heart shapes. I got mine at Michael's for $10 and was miffed that I didn't possess one of those 40% off coupons that I always seem to have in my wallet. Oh well, since the crayons were free, we're looking at about 41 cents per valentine. Works for me. 

Then we put the pan in the oven set at 275 degrees. They were in there about ten minutes before all the crayon chunks were melted. When I pulled the pan out I was a little disappointed because it looked like all the colors had just blended into one blah color. But I let them cool off (this happended quickly as I set it on the floor near the back door where we get an icy draft like nobody's business) and hoped the other sides looked better. Or at least different.

When Ben and I popped them out we were delighted to see that "on top" of the crayons all the different colors popped and swirled so nicely. "These are cool, Mom!" Ben hollered. I thought so too.

They fit quite nicely into a 4 year-old's hand and I love how bright they are. Ben picked this one out as his favorite.

I have a bunch of drawstring little muslin bags I got from the thrift shop before Christmas. Maybe I'll have Ben draw his version of a heart, we can photocopy it and then put the valentine in the bag with the crayon. The good news is that thanks to the Blizzard of 2011 we have a almost two weeks to figure the rest out. And now I'm wondering about trying out homemade soap in the heart-shaped pan . . . but I might need another storm to make that happen!