Twenty-three years ago Loved One and I met at the Northlight Theatre, “Mississippi Delta.”  The only thing I remember about the play is it featured a woman who could pick up a cigarette with her ziggy and blow smoke rings.  I wonder if anyone can really do that.  Anyways, in “Mississippi Delta,” she was a hit at striptease because of this trick.

I was not looking for love in any place, let alone a play on Super Bowl Sunday, but there he was, confident in his blue jeans.  I was late.  He saw me slip in.

We bumped into each other at the concession stand.  Literally.  I turned left with a hot cider and he turned right with a cup of cocoa.  We started talking, and it was as if we knew each other all our lives.  He says I picked him up.  I know better.  He thought I was a safe bet when I gave him my business card identifying me as a “Sanitarian/Microbiogist.”  I thought he was worth considering, probably not into sports at all, since he was at the Northlight during the Super Bowl.  The truth:  although I hate to clean, I do love clean; he is a sports fanatic, but has little patience for a bad Super Bowl game; we still stumble over each other, go in opposite directions, and cannot fold a sheet together without some redirection.

We celebrate Super Bowl Sunday as our anniversary; often with dinner and a play on Saturday, so we can watch the Super Bowl, too, just in case it’s a good game.  This year is no exception.

I got this postcard in the mail:The Infernal Comedy

I scribble on the back of the card:

Shhh…  Keep this a secret.  Part of the allure is Blackberry Farm is the unhurried pace and its freedom from crowds.  Blackberry Farm, Old-fashioned fun; the brochure lives up to its name.  The warmer weather gets me thinking about planning a trip to a simple place and time.

Located in Aurora, Illinois, Blackberry Farm is an easy drive from Chicago or the far Northwest Suburbs.  A quiet, easy-paced hike through a picturesque farm promises to delight toddlers, younger children, and grandparents.  Children older than seven and parents anxious to “do” something might not be quite as enamored as those of us who enjoy strolling along and taking as much time as needed to move piles of corn with toy trucks and tractors.

Shane Cleghorn and my Ducky

“Shane got me some great tickets,”  Ducky’s eyes almost brimmed with tears, she was so excited.

“What?  I didn’t say we could go yet.”  Ducky’s face fell.

“I’ll call him back, and tell him never mind.”

“No.  It’s okay.  I’m just surprised that you acted so quickly.  We can go.”

Ducky’s Sky Guy birthday cake (I made that.)

Summertime is time to follow professional basketball.  Isn’t basketball over?  You say.  Oh contraire; The WNBA is in full swing.  Ducky loves watching the games on TV.  At least once a year, a group of family and friends gets together for dinner and a Chicago Sky Game.  This year, I’m determined

If you read Once a Little Girl, you know I L-O-V-E, love to camp and I love adventure.  Today, I had some adventure in a tent.  A brand new experience for me:  A tent sale.   I H-A-T-E, hate shopping.  If I could, I’d only shop with a catalog, the internet, and a glass of wine.  My daughter, Duckie, loves to shop.  And I love Duckie.  So today off , after breakfast, we head to the Wilton Tent Sale.  Great finds can be had there for the patient and persevering.  I’m one of those.

Did I mention Duckie loves to talk? She processes everything out-loud. The tent sale is a 60+ minutes away, so Duckie has lots of time to tell me everything that’s on her mind.  I get a chance to practice my listening skills.  Duckie works at the local grocery store as a courtesy clerk.  She’s one of those people; she bag groceries and loads them in customers’ cars.    Duckie has the low-down on everyone.  She loves people.

Wow!  So many people stuffed in one tent:  People going up and down the aisles in willy-nilly.  We are like

Millennium Park, Chicago, IL, USA from Aon Cen...
Millennium Park, Chicago, IL, USA from Aon Center (Chicago) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

On a chilly spring morning, my sweetheart, G-Money, and I meet in the city to have lunch.

I am already in Chicago for my final class of the winter term.  I coaxed G-Money to join me for lunch. I took the Metra, where I found this silly sign.  The idea that stolen purses are on the prowl and lurking in Chicago still tickles me. 

An overnight at the Chicago Field Museum.  What could be more fun for kids than exploring through Egyptian tombs, holding tarantulas, and wandering amongst the dinosaurs?  Well, doing all that and more in the dark, and way, way past bedtime; that’s what.
Arrive early, and pick out a place to set up camp.  We bring sleeping bags and an air mattress for the old bones; ours that is, and just the sleeping bags for Bradaigh, 8 and Emma, 7. There are tons of families vying for space under the mastadon and saber tooth tiger. We opt for a spot under some African ceremonial masks. It’s out of the popular traffic pattern.  We set up camp, grab our flashlights and get going.
G-Dad and I notice right away something unanti
cipated.