The Burrow

Little Cuter's acorn didn't fall far from her mama's tree. These are her words and pictures. ****** I made a promise to my daughter before she was born that I would do everything in my power to keep her safe and make her feel loved. That is why I marched. I marched to show solidarity to my fellow Americans that the current political climate is NOT ACCEPTABLE to me and that I will do whatever I can in my power to stand against it and protect the future I promised to my kid. I also marched for strength. I marched because I didn’t want to feel removed, hopeless, rudderless or unable to turn on the television or open a newspaper. I marched for power - to share it with those who needed it and to siphon it from others who had some to spare. I marched because I am not entitled to the cushy life that I’ve led so far. I’ve spent 31 years benefiting from the fight that those before me have waged, and I want to show respect, and allow the generations before me to k...

The most fabulous picture I ever took of Big Cuter and The Bride happened there. They were smiling and looking wide eyed because a pigeon had just pooped into Seret's long, luscious, curly, tangle of hair and I was taking pictures instead of helping her clean it out.   Thirty years later, all on my own, I could find the restrooms still behind the sundial, inside, and down the stairs, and I could watch the pretty pink birds for as long as I wanted without having to explain why they have orange feathers or why I insist that they are pink.   I can watch the camels recline  and admire their grace as they lower themselves, slowly and carefully placing first one hump and then the other on the ground, in the shade or in a pool of water, clear enough to reflect the sunlight  and there was no reason to move on until I wanted to see something else.   Like the apes' indoor/outdoor habitat. The indoor part is the white building ...

It's my favorite place in my favorite city.  It was when I moved there in 1973 and it was when I was cruising downtown two weekends ago.  I always find a perfect parking spot. Charo the Car-O in the first free space across from the old Academy of Sciences. I'm never disappointed.  I'm usually surprised.  I'm happy with whatever is in front of me ... and there's a lot in front of me. After lunch with my cousin once removed (thank you, Dr's N for the relationship information), I tried to link up with old friends.  They were, unfortunately for me, on their way to a wedding.  The Realtor wasn't ready to receive me until 5pm.  I had a block of time and no place to go.  The Zoo called my name. I had my phone/camera, a water bottle, and comfortable shoes.  There's no charge to enter the animal paradise, nor for walking on the Yes, the murky pond on which The Cuters and I would take paddle boats on lazy summer afternoons is now a na...

The Realtor and I went clubbing on Saturday night. She'd found the manger and his wife the perfect condo in The West Loop, and they invited her and a guest as a thank you.  Since I was spending the night in her townhouse, I was the obvious choice as a date. She dressed me in Chicago appropriate attire, replacing my Anthropologie polka dotted purse for a white Bally bag for which she'd paid too much money. Mine was too big for the slinky cotton dress she'd decided was the best of the outfits I'd brought into the City.  She was gracious enough to avoid snarky comments about my luggage, at least.  The Big Brown Bag which contained the baby clothes we'd purchased at Bloomingdales together the week before had been repurposed as a weekend suitcase. In what used to be called Greek Town, west of the Dan Ryan, south of what used to be the Cabrini-Green housing projects, a trendy new neighborhood has arisen.  SRO's are now luxury condos.  There are hipsters on the si...

That's Chicago's motto. They live up to it.... big time. I had an hour between dropping Little Cuter at work and meeting old friends for lunch, so I walked. (Feel free to bask in that sentence.) I didn't hurt, the weather was warm, the sun was out, and Michigan Avenue beckoned. Not the stores.... the avenue itself. The trees are planted in planter boxes. affording comfy resting places  for weary travelers.  Newspaper boxes are interspersed with floral decor. Staring across the street, debating whether to go into Cartier and drool I couldn't get past the tulips. There were lots of tulips. Lots and lots of tulips.  They were planted in stages so that new ones will bloom as the older ones fade. There were random decorative items in planters, and Wet Paint signs on the railings.  They may not be able to fix the pot holes in the streets, but the wrought iron is beautifully maintained. Gardeners were planti...

 Oh, yes! TBG's favorite human, Dr. Jim, shares his love of all things automotive. They've motivated one another through Porsches and Mercedes, discussed cross-overs and Ferrari's and commodity trading over a thirty year friendship. TBG's inability to find a new car which intrigues him has been a source of amusement for them.  The 335i and the Boxster S and the VW GTI in our garage have kept him satisfied for the past six years. That's approximately six times as long as he's ever gone between a new car purchase. Some people buy art.  Some travel the world.  I married a man who buys cars.  It's something you get used to, over time. At the wedding last summer, Dr. Jim revealed that he was on the waiting list for the Tesla.  TBG began to drool. As I was planning this trip to Chicago-land, his only request was an afternoon with Dr. Jim and his new toy.  Since he and the Dr. Mrs. Dr. were my friends first, it was an easy of course. And so, th...