Merry Christmas

I hope everyone had a good holiday. We did. I told the kids earlier that this wasn't going to be the year last year was. No big surprises, but everyone would be satisfied. They were wonderful. Each received hoodies from us and a little something extra. They were happy with that. When I passed them each a movie case, they were very surprised. Especially when they tore the paper off and saw that each case was a disk case for Boston Legal, year 2. "Ah, Mom," Ed said at first, "Boston Legal is your thing. Not mine."
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"Then, I suggest you open the case," I told him. All three popped them open at the same time. That's where I hid the Target gift cards. I guess I really did surprise them. I didn't spend near as much as earlier years, but I was able to get more bang for my buck.

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Before that we had dinner out with C&D and the family. That was good. We talked quietly and without getting silly for a change. The place we went was not a favorite of any of ours, and how we wound up there, I don't know. It must have been the only place open on Christmas Eve. The only eventful moment happened on the way out. I should point out once again, that Chicago was blanketed by a sheet of ice. I'm not kidding when I say it was six inches deep in some places. Bill tried as hard as he could, but could not break any of it up. After falling last Monday, I've been terrified to go out. Here we are exiting the restaurant Christmas Eve. There was a path about five foot in length leading to the parking lot. Bill brought the van up as close to the walk as he could. I hung onto other cars and the van in an attempt to make it in the car. My sister in law, D., is assuring me that I would make it. As she's saying it, her own feet came out from under her and she landed on the ground. She got up and made to her vehicle. At this point, we haven't heard otherwise, so I assume she's all right. I hope so. Poor D. goes down everytime she walks by a Dunkin' Donuts. Truthfully.

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Anyway, at this point I'm required to say that if you are sensitive to talk about body parts, trade this for another post. This is about to get silly. Before starting I should point out that I have this thing about body parts. They have medical names. I mean I can understand the use of words like bowels or fingers as compared to intestines or phalanges. I can't understand words like worm or Johnson bar. I mean it's a penis. A vagina is a vagina and not 'down there,' or 'under there,' or a 'monkey.' It's a body part with a function and it has a name.

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Okay, so back to Christmas Eve.

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Ed, Becki and I got in the van with Bill while Jon and Gloria got in their cars, and headed home. Gloria needed to stop for work pants as she ripped hers at work that day, and had to work in the morning. My heart ached for her, at least until I heard Jon had to go to work Christmas Day and would miss my family's celebration.

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Anyway, we're on our way home and Ed started his usual. He's like an evil 8 year old. His sister is in the back seat with him and he has to start something just because she's there. Before too long, he's poking and she's screaming at him and I'm screaming at both of them to just shuttup. Then Becki in a fit of aggrevation, tells him, "Shuttup up you freakin' queef."

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"You hear what's she called me?" Ed demanded.

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"What's a queef?" I asked.

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"What do you mean what's a queef?"

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"What's a queef?"

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"Seriously, Mom. You don't know what a queef is?"

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"No, what's a queef?"

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That started the pair giggling.

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"What's a queef?"
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Ed said, "If you don't know, I can't tell you."

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"Becki, what's a queef?"

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"Ah, if you seriously don't know, go to UrbanDiction.com and look it up."

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"Tell me. What's a queef?"

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Finally, between fits of giggles, Becki tells me, "Ask Jon when we get home. I want to see his face."

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At that moment, Jon called me. We had just pulled up in front of the house, and he was on his way home. "What's a queef?" I asked.

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"Mom, a what?"

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"A queef?"

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"Where did you hear that word?"

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"Your sister called your brother a friggin' queef."

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The two in the back seat laughed even harder. Bill is giggling, although I"m sure he didn't know why. And Jon is giggling. And finally Jon tells me, "You should slap that little girl in the mouth for saying something like that." And everyone is giggling.

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Jon and Gloria arrived a few minutes after we did. Once inside, my three are looking at each other and still giggling. Jon told me again. "Slap her. Slap her." The other two are covering their faces and laughing into their hands.

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I finally looked at Gloria. She was bright red. "A queef," she said, "Is when a girl passes gas, and she doesn't pass it from the back, but... ah, from the front..."

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"You mean to tell me that you people are acting this silly over a vaginal fart?" Gloria was embarrassed and my three are still being silly. The only thing I can think of at that moment is that a vaginal fart still stinks.

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Everything seemed to be happening perfectly. Then Jon dropped a load of bricks on me. "Got to work tonight," he said Thursday morning. "Have to go to Kalamazoo." I thought he was kidding. All week long he had been held up because either his truck was being worked on. When he hit those deer the week before, they damaged the grill. When he returned to work Sunday night, no one had bothered plugging his truck in. It needs to be kept warm as the night was subzero and everything was freezing up. As I said in an earlier post, he was given another truck and sent off to Kalamazoo early Monday morning. He was run off the road on the way back. All week long after that he had been in and out of Indiana and Michigan, and not making any connections. It was just too cold. A storm hit early on Tuesday and he was caught up in it again. He didn't make his last delivery. I was disappointed because I thought he'd have a four day weekend. He wasn't suppose to work Wednesday and Thursday, and Friday and Saturday are his normal days off. No, he was told, he had to be in on Thursday to make that last stop. So we went to my brother's house and he stayed home.

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The next time we heard from him, he was parked along side the road. Another storm blew in on his return and more ice pummelled the road. Friday morning there were people sliding around all the roads and accidents right and left. The entire Indiana tollway, all 134 miles of it, was closed down because of the accidents. And where was Jon? Sitting along side the road, 20 minutes outside of Gary, unable to move because he had no traction on the ice. He was still on the tollway. That was 5AM. The sleet turned to rain and eventually the roads thawed. Jon made it home by 11.

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It's been raining steadily since then. There are still ice patches out there, and a few tornado warnings. More than anything, the roads are flooded. What a winter.

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Oh, and I'm very happy to report that Ed finished his first semester at U.C.L.A. (the University Closest to LaGrange Avenue) with one B and 3 A's. Not something he was used to doing all through grade school and high school, so you know he's telling everyone who bothers to ask.

A Really Bad Week

This past Saturday, George and husband, Patrick, has closed off what they could of pre-Christmas deliveries. They will pick up again afterwards. My husband and children were out collecting can goods, money and making deliveries, too. I'm glad that this was planned this way. Otherwise we would have been closed down by freezing rain, sub zero cold and mounds and mounds of snow. I haven't left the house since Saturday night. And that is a story in itself.
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I'll pick that story up early on Thursday morning. My second child, my over the road truck driver, ran smack into not one, but two deer. Jon was traveling a rural highway in Illinois when they just leaped in front of him. He said it happened so fast, he never saw them. He came home soon after that because he had to have the grill on his truck repaired. He was shaken, both because of the damage, and because he is an animal lover. I think too, he might have been afraid of getting the same hell we gave Ed last year when he was assaulted by a deer when he got off at the wrong bus stop. I should point out that deer are at record highs this year and last.

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Gloria's family held their annual Christmas party on Saturday night. Jon was instructed to bring desert. So I stopped at the bakery where I used to work and ordered him an atomic cake, apple strudle and strawberry shortcake. Early Saturday afternoon he took off for Park Forest, which is way south of here. Gloria's family rents out a church hall every year because the family is so large. Jon and Gloria were instructed to set up and clean up afterwards.

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Okay, so the party ends and everyone left. He and Gloria cleaned up as instructed. Then Gloria took his keys and started his car. Then she locked the keys in the car.

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Jon called home. "Dad, can you drive out here and bring my keys?"

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Now Park Forest is one of those towns where I honestly beleive the designers should be castrated. Yes, I meant that. Castrated. This is a beautiful town, built shortly after WWII. It was an experiment in which black and white could live together in harmony, and it works. My complaint is that the idea makers next handed the planning over to these idiots who think it is so nifty to place cul-d-sacs in the middle of no where, and curvy streets that don't make any sense. They take odd angles and cut back across each other, change names when they cross main streets.

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There's a lot to be said for algebra and plain old fashioned grid plans. There should be a zero point. In Chicago it's State and Madison. All streets should be numbered consecutively in all four directions. Here in this area, main streets are four blocks apart from north to south, and 8 blocks from east to west. It's easy. I'm at 11500 south and 3200 west. How hard is that?

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Saturday night Bill told me to get dressed warmly because I would keep him company. We stopped for gas and had problems getting up the drive. It was icy and we spun our wheels. Once gassed up, we headed for the expressway. I-57 south is mostly a level above the ground. Now Bill was sorry we dropped off our last load of can goods. We needed the weight, because the wind threw us about like fluff ball in the dryer. It didn't snow so much as pick the snow already on the ground and blasted it back at us. When the wipers pushed it away, what little salt was left in the snow stained the windows. It was hard to see through the windshield, and really frightening. We finally got off some ten miles south. Conditions improved immediately.

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Bill told me to call Jon on his cell phone so he could give us directions to the church. Jon's phone was dying. He called me back on the church phone and said to use that once we turned off the main drag, which by the way was named Main Street. Gloria got on when I called back. She said turn right here, and left there, and yes, avoid that small street that curved off in the other direction. It was confusing. Twenty minutes and two wrong turns later we found the church. We weren't parked before the kids came charging into the brutal cold towards us.

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"Mom, you wouldn't believe it," Jon told me once we got him in his car and we were back on the road. "We were by ourselves in the church waiting for you guys. No one was in the church. And there were these footsteps. And they were so loud, too. And all this banging. And we couldn't find anyone. We finally watched a movie on my laptop, and turned it up as loud as we could...."

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And then yesterday..... Oh, crap, what a night. He had to be to Gary by 2PM. He sat for 4 hours waiting until someone got his truck started. The mechanics were suppose to plug it in to keep it warm after working on the grill. They didn't do it. Finally someone offered him another truck and sent him out, headed to Kalamazoo. Bill and I both balked. A little earlier we had watched the news coverage on 100 car pile up on I-90 in Monroe County, Michigan. How close that is to Kalamazoo, I don't know. It's just one of those bad feelings came over me. Us. Both of us. That was about 11PM on Sunday night.

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We next heard from him at about 5AM. He had dropped his load in Kalamazoo and was headed back. He was in the left hand lane. Behind him a pick up truck was closing, doing about 70. Jon moved over to avoid him. The guy threw a ton of snow into Jon's windshield. He couldn't see the road curve. When he called next he was sitting in a ditch along the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck. He said he took out a sign, too.

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He came home directly after rather than sleeping in Gary. He was exhausted. I fed him and he went right to bed. Even though he had to return, I knew exactly how he was feeling. After getting the hell scared out of you, there's truly no place like home and family, and being around the people who love you the most. He's back to work again, and should be home tonight or tomorrow morning. At least I know he went off with enough sleep and a couple of nutrious meals under his belt.

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We heard from him a few minutes ago. He's still on the road from last night. He said the expressway ahead of him is closed. Poor kid. Please say a prayer for him.

Saturday Six - Episode 245
Tag: Saturday Six — Patrick @ 12:15 am

1. On an average year, how many days before Christmas do you generally finish your Christmas shopping?

Ten days. I usually only shop one day a year.

2. Is the economy making you spend any less on gifts this year, or are you spending about the same?

Less.

3. What part of the Christmas scene do you find the most chaotic? What part do you generally worry most about?

Preparing for Christmas in my house is chaotic more because we are part of a charity. We work very hard at that.

4. Take the quiz: What Movie is Your Christmas Most Like?

What Movie Is Your Christmas Most Like?--> Your Christmas is Most Like: Miracle on 34th Street
Sweet and caring, Christmas is about helping for you.While Santa may not exist, you try to share his spirit.

5. What Christmas movie is your favorite? White Christmas

Which one is your least favorite? Miracle on 34th Street

6. What Christmas tradition from years past do you miss the most now?

I prefer the Christmas I created for my own family rather than the Christmases we had as children. Although there is one holiday celebration I miss. Usually after visiting with the inlaws on Christmas Eve, we'd go to my Mom's house and exchange presents with my family. I miss being with my Mom.

Crap. CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!

Oh, I had such hopes for this year. Early on something said that I needed a back-up. Bill is not healthy enough to take on my responsibilities in the Angel group. He's been a tremendous help, and frankly I don't think I could keep up without his help. But there's no way he could do it on his own.
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One of my responsibilities is to pass out penny jars and collect their contents once a week. I set it up so that Bill would drive me, and Ed would accompany me into each business. I did this primarily because I didn't want to have people watch me empty these jars and walk off by myself with no protection. It's worked well. We walk into a place, Ed and I, and I empty the jar into a bag, replace the bag and the two of us walk away. We pass the bag to Bill. He empties it and gives it back. Ed and I then either walk or ride with Bill to the next location. Now last week Bill said to me, "Take Jon instead." No, I told him I wanted Ed because everyone has seen Ed at my side. If something happens to me, they'll know they can trust Ed. As I'm saying this, I'm thinking, 'One week left. What's going to happen?'
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Call it a premonition or call it coincidence.
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Monday Chicago was hit by an ice storm. Should I leave it there? Okay, I'll take one more step. It kicked my ass good. One step too far and I landed on the ground. Ed helped me up. Just barely. I can barely walk. I'm not sure if I have a severe sprain, or if I fractured something. I have no insurance. I'm not going to the doctor any sooner than I have to. But, here I am, with my foot wrapped up, and not doing much of anything. I can barely walk. Again. I can barely walk.
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AHHH!
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I have penny jars to empty and three more canned food drives to collect. And you know what? George told me she got 22 calls today from people looking for help. She said, and I quote, "I'm going to have to turn people away." We've never done that before. But we are literally running out of food! I am upset to say the least. I have no idea what I am going to do to keep us going.
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And I had all these plans. I've said it over and over again. After we are done with our clients we split what is left between two local pantries. Because we do, I beg for as much as we can get our hands on. Donations will dry up after Christmas. The need won't. I had plans. I could see it in my head. Every year the Salvation Army pull their trailer up outside the warehouse, and take our food. The same thing with the St. Vincent DePaul Society from St. B. This year the St. Vincent DePaul Society pantry from St. W. called us asking for help. They've donated to us before although we've never reciprocated with donations of food. So here I am, imagining that we are splitting this huge amount of food between three pantries. We barely had any clients this year. Until today that is. God only knows if we can help those people we do have. I am disappointed. No, I am pissed off. I can't get up and do anything about it. Maybe make phone calls. I've got to think this out. Crap!
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I'd ask you dear readers to send food my way, but I know you are too far. Even so, when the local food pantry comes a calling, donate, please. The need this year is great.

Illinois Politics

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By now everyone has heard of Illinois's latest embarrassment. It looks as if our sitting Governor will be the fourth in my lifetime to serve time in jail. According to the indictment, the Feds have Rod Blagojevich on tape trying to sell President Elect Obama's former Senate seat. Pity Blago couldn't wait until our last governor was released from jail.
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Now Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr. has questions to answer because of his interest in that seat. He wasn't indicted and he doesn't act like a guilty man. When confronted by the media outside his home, Jackson didn't scream about how unfair they were to him. Instead he was polite, and he served the reporters hot coffee. Not something a marked man usually does. Believe me, I saw enough of them. Tony Rezco did the perp walk, and George Ryan rudely denied everything.
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Where I'm not surprised Blagojevich was indicted, there are a few things I am surprised about. First off, I'm surprised this dirt bag was reelected. I voted for him once. Some of his actions while serving his first term as Governor bothered me. I voted for the Republican the next time. I'm surprised that he wasn't indicted along with Tony Rezco. The Republicans tried to pin Rezco to Obama's coattails when Obama ran for President. Resco had more dealings with Blagojevich. The other thing I find surprising is that someone hasn't put a foot in Blago's ass over some of the silliness that has come out of Springfield in the last 6 years.
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One of the complaints in the indictment was that Blago's office attempted to have members of the editorial staff of the Chicago Tribune replaced with employees who were more favorable to the Blagojevich administration. Whoever was approached didn't think enough of it to pass it on. When the indictment came out, Tribune employees reported not knowing anything about it. Marketing grabbed the news up and within 24 hours, filmed commercials touting the Trib's integrity. Even Governor Blagojevich could not tempt them into changing their editorials.
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Blago doesn't work and play well with others, and there's been a lot of talk about recalling or impeaching him. The wire taps on his line by the Feds were an open secret. His wife is Chicago Alderman Dick Mel's daughter. A major riff happened between Mel and Blago over a shady land deal. For a while, the news provided daily updates. Mel said this and Blago said that, and father and daughter weren't speaking because of it. Blago has been fighting with Illinois Senate President Mike Madigan since the day he was sworn in. Now Attorney General Lisa Madigan (Mike's daughter) is seeking a ruling from the State Supreme Court declaring Blago as unfit to rule. And it's been an on again off again relationship with House of Representative President Emile Jones. All of the above, including Blago, are Democrats. I understand that Barack Obama refused to have anything to with Blago. Even though Blago was in Chicago on election day, he didn't attend Obama's party in Grant Park. It was reported that when Obama's transition office called the Governor about the seat and their recommendation, Blago was insulted because they promised only their appreciation in return for appointing Obama's choice.
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Blago makes a lot of promises. When Pilgrim Baptist Church, a landmark, burned down, he promised a million dollars to rebuild. Pilgrim Baptist is in the heart of a Chicago neighborhood called Bronzeville. It was originally a synagogue built by Adler and Sullivan. When the neighborhood changed from white to black, the property was later sold to a Baptist congregation. That was during the Great Migration. Adler and Sullivan was the architectural firm responsible for designing the 1892 Columbian Expedition here in Jackson Park. Sullivan was famous for his high arched doorways and Adler for the acoustics. This church is also famous because this was the birthplace of modern day gospel music. As I said, the church burned down and Blago promised money. Instead the State gave the money to a school that used to be housed in the church building. They took it and relocated. The State didn't attempt to get the money back and the Church is still waiting to be rebuilt. That's only an example of what has become the norm in Illinois and not an occasional incident. It's no wonder that Illinois's finances are a mess.
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The indictment came about a week after Democratic Senator Dick Durbin asked President Bush to commute the sentence of former Illinois Governor George Ryan. He's a Republican, he's in his 70's and not in the best of health. He was sentenced to six years after Patrick Fitzgerald, the same Patrick Fitzgerald who prosecuted Scooter Libby and now Blagojevich, indicted him for fraud. As Secretary of State, one of Ryan's responsibilities was to issue driver's licenses. SoS employees were required to earn money for Ryan's campaign fund. Some of them sold driver's licenses to unqualified drivers. This came to light when something fell off a semi driven by an undocumented immigrant. That something hit the undercarriage of a van following the truck. It blew up. A minister and his wife were driving 6 of their nine children, including a 6 month old baby, home from vacation. All six children died. The minister and his wife suffered severe burns. The truck driver, who didn't speak English, bought his license from one of those employees.
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I've written about George Ryan previously. As Governor, he placed a moratorium on the death penalty when it was found several death row inmates who were wrongly prosecuted and convicted. Ryan then commuted the sentences of 161 others. Several of those were found to be wrongly convicted while many returned to jail after committing other crimes.
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Ryan never expressed an ounce of remorse over the lives of those children, and that has always bothered me. Rod Blagojevich's behavior is just plain dumb. I just wonder how he got this far in life without physically hurting himself.

My Favorite Civil Servant

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Have you ever met someone at their profession and just knew that God planted them there? Once upon a time there was this principal at this middle school where students and parents alike knew that we had a gift from God.
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I met her when my eldest was beat up on his way to school and again in school. This kid, this Mark, followed Ed for three years, taunting him, badgering him, and getting other kids to physically assault him. At the time, Ed was a scrawny little kid. Being that I didn't have a car and the school district didn't provide buses, I had little control outside of walking him to school each day, and that didn't last long. Ed still had to deal with the other kids teasing him about why his Mom walked him to school. Most of these kids were spouting off because they were at Mark's mercy as well. Mark was two years older and only attended the same school as Ed one year in every three. Every time Ed stood up for himself, Mark insisted he had to defend himself. Never mind that Mark caused the problem to begin with.
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I went to school time and again, and I talked to Mr. H., the principal at the intermediate school Eddie attended. I begged Mr. H. to please help me. First he promised to talk to Mark, which did nothing. Later when I begged, Mr. H. said he didn't want to contact Mark's parents because there would be an argument with them and he didn't want to argue. The abuse continued and even the police were called. They could do nothing because the boys were under age.
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Finally Ed moved to the next building. He was in 6th grade and Mark was in 8th. Ed and Mark both had a mile and a half walk to and from school. By this time the older kids figured out who Mark was and refused to help him bully the younger kids. Ed was on his own and Mark blamed Ed for Mark losing friends. One day on the way to school Mark hassled Ed. No biggy. Ed stood up for himself and nothing happened. Then between classes the pair came across each other as their lockers were in close proximity. That's when Mark thought no one was looking. He caught Eddie by surprise. He grabbed my son by the ears, yanked his head down and raised his knee. He got Ed right in the mouth. My son sported the biggest, fat lip I ever saw in my life.
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Mary saw it all. She grabbed Mark and set him down in the office while the ass't principal drove Ed home. Mark wasn't allowed to leave the office that day and everyday since, until a parent picked him up. He wasn't allowed in school either until a parent dropped him off at the office. That was September. By June a very dis functioning class pulled themselves together and became the best friends ever.
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Needless to say, I have adored Mary ever since. When Jon entered middle school, I was so happy to know Mary had his back as well.
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My boys moved onto high school. Jon was a freshman and Ed a junior when I came across Mary next. She had gone on to earn her doctorate by then. Our elementary school district was headed by this woman; this monster. I don't know what her problem was, but as soon as Mary had that degree under her belt, this woman turned nasty. The Superintendent showed up at the middle school one day, accompanied by the police. Mary was dismissed, escorted out and locked out. Then Mr. H. was installed in Mary's place. That afternoon the kids from Mary's school made up signs and hit the streets, protesting Mary's dismissal.
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I came into this when it hit the paper. I was assigned to cover school board meetings and privately called meetings. I wasn't the only parent who owed her a lot. There were so many of us protesting we made news in Chicago. Mary talked to Chicago reporters the day after to ask everyone to put aside their anger allow the children to return to school. In deference to her appeal, that's exactly what happened. We continued to fight her dismissal. We attended meetings where the Superintendent claimed that Mary did something so very unethical that her dismissal was the only safe avenue there was to correct a situation most of knew nothing about. Then there was an open hearing where the incident was discussed. It was a situation where Mary went the extra mile to bring a gang banger back to school, even meeting with the boy's parents and the kids he hung with. We couldn't figure out where the error was. We were horrified that someone felt strongly enough to fire her for what amounted to caring. These charges were so trumped up it had me wondering at least, how this superintendent could look at herself in the mirror and not be disgusted. The school board backed the Superintendent up completely. Unfortunately after months and months of battling this, the dismissal stood. Mary quickly found another job as a principal elsewhere.
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Since that time the Superintendent retired. Yeah. We voted the school board out and replaced it with those who led the fight to get Mary reinstalled. I hate to admit this, but there are still people who live in this town who backed the old Superintendent that I will not speak to. I doubt that I'm alone in this. We also hired a new superintendent. I'll call him Dr. K. He is a very effective and very genial gentleman. It took a few years before he found an opening, but when he did he brought Mary back. She started at Becki's old middle school, which was not the same school as where Ed and Jon went. Mary told me she was asked back to help out for 3 days. And that turned into four months. I was so happy to see her when I went to Becki's school to pick up a food drive that year. I'm in and out of there often because of our Angel program. When I didn't see her after that, I wondered again what happened to her.
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Bill and I were invited to a dinner meeting of the local chapter of this large public service organization which is part of almost every school in this area. (Builders Club or Key Club?) We walked in and found our places, and Mary sat across from me. I was so happy to see her. We couldn't talk that day at Becky's old school, so we took time last night. I am very happy to say that she is again principal in our school district, although this time for kindergarten. "It's not the same," she told me. "I really like the older children, but I am learning my way around." I was very happy to tell her how pleased we were that she is back in our district and working with our kids. Even if I no longer have children in our school, I know my neighbors' kids are that much better off because they have Mary for a principal. She told me that a lot of the parents she meets daily are her former students from her days as principal at the middle school, and that makes her happy.
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So last night was a great night. Not only was I able to catch up on someone I think the world of, but we received a check for our pantry, and a free meal besides.
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Bobby Flay and UCLA

We ordered cable TV when Bill first got sick about 5 years ago. Four years later I canceled it after a disagreement with the cable company. It was a stupid argument. Plain and simple, I was right and they were wrong. And they should have backed down and cowered before the phone when I called them to tell them so. Joking aside though, a year passed before I ordered it through another company.
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Now not having it before, you'd think it would be very easy to go back to doing without. Figure we didn't miss what we didn't have until we had it and it was gone. And Yes, I missed it. I got so into new shows. I have a few favorites on network TV. I love Criminal Minds, Boston Legal, and a few others. But on cable, you have Deadliest Catch, Ghost Hunters, Most Haunted, Haunted History (see a theme here?), most of the History Channel and then there's the cooking shows. I missed all of Top Chef from Chicago last year. There's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Dinner Impossible, Iron Chef, and so on.
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My favorite, hands down, of all the cooking shows is Throw Down with Bobby Flay. That's where this nice Irish guy with a giant ego and a New York accent challenges people to a cooking competition. And it isn't just anyone either. He picks people who become famous for that one thing that they make. There was a woman in Springfield, Illinois who makes enchanted gingerbread houses. Bobby brought gingerbread cut outs he had prepared beforehand. She made a replica of Abraham Lincoln's home, complete with poinsettias and Christmas wreaths, and he made something that looked like the Empire State Building. Considering the detail that went into either project, she blew him away. In another episode he made Cuban sandwiches, and in another he made Philly cheese steak sandwiches.
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I'm waiting until he makes it to Chicago to make an Italian beef sandwich, and make it wet with gardinaire. There's a reason for that. When the Bears went to the Super Bowl a couple of years ago, he was asked to make some of our favorite foods. He took lunchmeat, a rye roll and smothered it in mustard and called it Italian beef. Ah, not hardly.
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Anyway, where this is leading to is that Ed and I watched this episode a few weeks ago about chicken cacciatore. There was this New York firefighter that made the covers of some cooking magazines because he made it so well. We watched both the firefighter and Bobby make this, and both of us drooled. I mean this looked so good. Finally Ed said, "Mom, you got to try that."
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Bobby and the firefighter browned chicken in olive oil. When they took it out of the pan, they caramalized onion, green pepper and mushrooms, with a little garlic thrown in at the end. They added flour to the left over oil and browned it only enough to take away the taste of raw flour. Then they used wine to deglaze the pan. Flay used red wine and the firefighter used white, although I can't remember what type of red or what type of white. After that it was crushed tomatoes, chicken broth and seasonings. Then the chicken went back into the pot for about 45 minutes. Now the firefighter served it over Adobe rice and Bobby served it over spaghetti noodles. It looked so good I swear I could smell it over the airwaves. "Mom," Ed insisted, "You've got to make that dish."
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I thought about it for a couple of weeks before I made up my mind. My biggest difficulty would be choosing a wine. I never cooked with wine before and I rarely drink it. In the end I bought Arbor Mist. I used spaghetti. And I forgot to thicken it. I tried to cook it down. That took way too long and damn I was hungry. But you know what? It was good. It was very good. In fact I think I like this better than some of my other Italian favorites. I can't wait to make it again. Maybe if I do, Ed will stay home and try it.
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Speaking of Ed, he and his buddies spent the last four days helping Yellow and her boyfriend move home. She is an incredible pack rat and her boyfriend is worse. Long story short, Ed had a homework assignment due today. He had to write an essay for his Composition class about the one thing that's missing on the U.C.L.A. (the University Closest to LaGrange Avenue) campus, and he had left himself only a short window of time to write it.
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He had me intrigued last night as he worked on this. He started out really well, typing his heart out. But then he got up to use the washroom. I read while he was gone. It went something like 'Some people will say that UCLA is too expensive. Comparatively it isn't. Others will say the books are too expensive. That's not true because the publishers set the price and UCLA's mark-up is minimal. He went on to talk about good teachers and building programs.
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He came over to sit by me after he came from the bathroom. I told him his grammar was fine and that the piece flowed like it should. But then I got on the phone with Jon. Ed stayed with me to pick on me while I talked to his brother. It took him forever to get back to his work. Finally he did, and he typed just a little more. He said, "Okay, I'm done. Come over here and read it again." He writes: Taking all of this into account there is only one thing I can complain about. There.... isn’t one dinosaur on the entire campus.

Food Drives, and Then Some

It's been one hell of a day, and I am exhausted. We were due to pick up food at Becki's school at 11AM. After that we had two others schools to pick up from. Earlier in the week Bill took a call from our friend, George. She wanted me to pick up gift cards from a local church. While he had her on the line, he told her, "We're getting old here. We can't do this on our own anymore. Please try to get us some help on Wednesday."
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Today as we're walking out the door to get to the High School, Cal pulled up. "I should be at the middle school by 12:30," he said. "Anything else?" I explained our schedule and I'm glad I did.
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We pulled up to the side door by the High School were I met Sgt. L. from ROTC. He brought me to the front of the class, and ordered Ed and Pele to take chairs at the by the door. Then he explained who I was and why I was there, even telling them that I was Becki's Mom. Then he asked me to speak. I told the kids, we are an organization that helps families through emergency situations. If someone breaks their leg, falls sick, or is out of work, we're there. Under these situations, the Government can't help. They aren't equipped to act quickly enough. I explained that the second food drive ROTC will be conducting will go to our local pantries. It is our goal to collect as much food as we can. After we finish with our clients, we split our remaining food between our local Salvation Army outlet and St. Vincent DePaul Society pantry. We do this intentionally and we push as hard for this as we do for ourselves. I told them, donations dry up after Christmas. Hunger doesn't. It is our goal to help out all winter long if possible. I said, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I also explained that even though Becki is not in this class, there is a member of our organization in the class. Mel, one of Becki's closest friends, and who lives kitty corner from us, was right there. I recognized Mel and she smiled hugely.
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What surprised me was there were six partially packed boxes, and a ton of canned goods stacked up against the wall. I'm used to walking into a school and having everything boxed. Anyway, Sgt. L. instructed Ed and Pele to tell the kids what they wanted them to do. Then he ordered the kids to take 4 cans to the van at a time. I literally thought I'd be there all freakin' day. Sgt. L. must have realized that because he reorganized on the spot. We were out of there within a few minutes. We were so overloaded that Bill avoided every railroad track he could. In this town, that's almost impossible, with the only exception of heading north into Chicago. We were headed south. Very, very slowly.
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We dropped the load at the warehouse with just enough time to meet our help at the first middle school. A secretary told me the other guy took two boxes to his truck. He wanted to know where the rest of his party was. We drove around the school and couldn't find anyone. Then we went home to drop off Pele. He was to pick up Becki and her friends who got out at 1PM. I called George. Her cousin, Jimmy, was waiting outside of the school for us still. So we caught up with him. He didn't have any food. That made me wonder what happened to Cal. And with 2 boxes, I mean did I need two more people? Would this embarrass me because I had all this help and not enough food? Silly girl. We caught up to Cal at the last school. Bill and I stood there in awe as Ed, Jimmy and kids from the school overloaded all three vehicles. Un-freakin'-believable.
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We pulled up outside the warehouse, where Becki, Pele, Matt, Mel and Kat were waiting with a hand jack, a pallet and a couple of carts. They unloaded all three vehicles in a blink, and then the kids took it all upstairs to sort. They worked, all 6 of them, with only a break for Sliders, for 4 solid hours.
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What wasn't so good was that Bill was complaining about heartburn. He wanted to go home and rest. I made him stop at the bakery first. You know I didn't have time to make homemade pies. (I make crappy pies.) We got home, and he went in and threw up. I made him as comfortable as I could, and lunch, and coffee, and I waited until I was sure he was situated. Thankfully Jon made it home just a little earlier. Bill had such a bad summer, and with his diabetes as it is, it takes a long time to come out of any illness. I wasn't comfortable with him coming with us earlier, but thought maybe it was good he got out. He over did it. He feels much better tonight.
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I had to cover City Council last night. It was announced that the South Suburban Council of Mayors ordered all cities, towns and villages to put together a list of infrastructure projects that are ready to go now. This is a joint initiative put together by President elect Obama and President Bush with the intention of putting people back to work and strengthening the economy. And the list was due to be turned in last Thursday. I am excited. My City came up with a list of projects they estimate to cost about $38,000,000. I hope this goes into effect quickly, and I hope it is very successful. I am thrilled someone is finally using their FREAKIN' common sense!
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Okay, so Happy Thanksgiving!

My Angel Group, My Uncle A., and Other Things

As I said in my last post, I am working by butt off. I did not mail out the usual letters to my regular schools asking for food drives this year. It didn't matter. I have three I have to pick up on Wednesday. I picked up cans from Becki's former middle school last week. The sponsor told me that she wanted to keep it running until Wednesday, and that she didn't have enough boxes to transport what she had then. I took some and left the rest. Another middle school in the district has over 2400 pieces for me. And Becki tells me that Gunnery Sgt. L. can't move desks anymore because the collection in ROTC has grown substantially. Two girls in her class competed amongst themselves. They brought in bags full. I still have another teacher at Becki's present school to contact. The AACA, or African American Cultural Awareness Club, is conducting a food drive as well. I can't even begin to explain the churches that are calling me. It is overwhelming.
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I am happy to report that we opened the warehouse early. We have the same spaces as last year. Rather than one large room where we constantly get in each others' way, we have 2 small rooms. One is for food and one is for clothing, toys, Christmas presents, housewares and the like.
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We had the most wonderful time on Saturday night. My brother and sister-in-law celebrated 50 years of marriage. They threw themselves a party at a local country club. We had fillet mignon, chicken and other things.
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More than that, we had great company. I'm sorry, but I hate assigned seating. I know people go to great lengths to make up place cards and to seat people exactly right. I have a very hard time getting to know people and my SIL is very bad at introductions. This time, however, she placed Bill, Ed, Becki and I at the same table with two cousins and my Uncle. Jon and Gloria sat with two other couples. They made themselves comfortable. They have better people skills than I do.
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My cousin, MK, and I used to celebrate our birthdays together. Her's is the 26th and mine is the 24th. We were very close. With age, though, we didn't keep up as we should have. Her brother, B., brought my Uncle. B. is recovering from a serious illness, so I was very happy to see him.
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Now my Uncle A. is one of those wonderful people who are so full of stories. He's my Mom's brother, and he is the last of his generation. I want so badly to get out to his home and interview him. I'm so scared that all those things from the past will be lost if I don't. During dinner he told us about a trip to California he took with my Uncle John, my Great Uncle Jerry in the 30's. They traveled along old Route 66, and it took them 2 weeks. They camped at the side of the road and at one point worked for money to buy gas. He talked about vehicle problems and the like. He also talked about the others. My two other Uncles were on my Dad's side. My Great Uncle served in WWI, where he had been gassed. There is no one alive now who remembers him outside of my Uncle A.
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The last time I saw my Uncle A was at my niece's wedding last October. Then he told us about serving in the Coast Guard in WWII. He told me honestly, and I give him credit for being honest, that he joined the Coast Guard because he didn't want to die. But just like everyone else, he was expected to serve somewhere. With the Coast Guard he was part of the first contingent of Americans to enter Nagasaki after the bomb was dropped. He helped search for wounded. Maybe because I am looking back over a filter of sixty plus years, I wonder how he did it. I think I'd rather face the bullets than radiation poisoning. I don't think anyone realized just how many survivors would later die of cancer. It amazes me that he has never suffered from it. I have photos he took, although there's no way to download them.
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He also spent time in the Civilian Conservation Corp. which was a New Deal organization designed to put vagrant young men to work during the Depression. It was a quasi-military group sponsored by the Government. Uncle A told us how he was first sent to Wisconsin to help plant forests. He said that he had a bag with baby trees in it. He and his comrades in arms walked side by side, a few feet apart, and planted these babies in nice, tight rows. When they finished with planting this forest, he was sent to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I'm not sure what his duties were there.
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He told us how he visited with his Mother's family while stationed in the Upper Peninsula. She had come to Chicago to work at the turn of the last century. That's when she met and married my Dutch Grandfather. Not a good marriage by any means. My Uncle said her family remembered her even though 30 years had passed. Her people were Metzi. I think I spelled that right. That's a mixture of French and Native Americans from the very earliest time when white people settled here. The tribe is the Menominee and they are still living on reservations in Northern Wisconsin and the Upper Peninsula. Needless to say I have a lot to pick from his brain before he passes.
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That leads me into something else. Again, I wish I had a scanner. Above is a photo of a photo. Before my Mom gave up living on her own, she asked each of us to go through the photos she had collected over the years and take what we wanted. I'm the last of 4, so I went last. I don't know how my brothers and sister missed this one. That's my Mom and Uncle A. from circa 1925. It was fashionable to take professional shots of children on or around ponies at the time. When my Mom passed, Uncle A. said that someone must have this particular photo and it was a shame not to show it. I was afraid of losing it.
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When the anniversary invitation came, this photo came to mind. I had it reproduced and framed for my brother and sister-in-law. I also gave copies to my other brother and to my sister, as well as three to my Uncle. My Uncle swore he never saw it before, and even claimed not to know who the pair were. My Mom and Uncle A. are so recognizable in this photo. The original photo is much more clear than the one above is. We put the framed copy on the table next to the wedding photo. Everyone who passed the table took a good look at it.
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I'm sorry I don't have photos to share of dinner. Mike is a very demanding cat. When he wants out he climbs up onto my desk and walks across it, right in front of the screen. One night I was working and didn't want to be bothered with him. He'd climb up and I'd set him on the ground. And he'd climb up again. After a few times he started kicking things off my desk. He was going to show me. When he wanted out, I should jump up immediately and open the door. I wasn't having it. I changed my mind when he kicked my camera, my beautiful, wonderful Christmas present from my kids from last year, right out from under my hand. It bounced off the floor and broke. I made sure Mike got out then. I just wonder who let him in again.
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And speaking of breaking things. Now that I got a brand spanking, new washer, my dryer bit the dust. I'm washing one load at a time and hanging everything to dry over a drying rack, and from cabinet doors, over the bread rack and freezer, over chairs, and doors, and the shower doors even. I have clothes all over the place. But thankfully, they are clean. I will make myself live like this for a couple more months. I have crap to pay off before I buy another one.
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Anyone notice the price of gas? My dear God! I put $20 in my tank the other day and nearly filled it up. It wasn't until later when I passed the same gas station that I noticed the price. I almost got in an accident! I was so surprised! It was $1.97 a gallon. And it's dropped since then! And they're saying that deflation is a bad thing? Not when gas drops to under $2 a gallon for the first time in over a year. I can deal with this.

What Good Friends Are Made Of

You want to hear something absolutely wonderful? One of Ed's friend is a young lady by the name of Yellow. (Okay, so it isn't yellow. Use your imagination and you'll come up with the name.) She's a chef. She and my boys attended grammar school and high school together, and has stayed close since. She is a year younger than Ed and a year older than Jon. She, her sister, and her various boyfriends (one at at time), have participated in our backyard parties on Summer Saturdays. She's a very nice girl.
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Anyway, someone told her about Pizza. We have yet to figure out who. But just because she knew how we felt about her, and the fact that she fell in love with our girl, too, she brought us a gift. She made us a big thing of homemade cream of bacon and potato soup. It was wonderful.

Another Update

Sorry, I haven't been around. I hate to admit this, but truthfully, I've been really down in the dumps. And now, I can't remember why. Oh well. On with life.
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Halloween came and went, and when I tried to download at least some of the entries I made on AOL, my computer froze up. The next day was the 31st. I thought possibly that the blogs would close at midnight. Yeah, they did. The night before. So I lost almost everything. Becki's art teacher told me that one of her college professors told her to break her best piece. That way she won't hold back thinking she can't do any better. Okay, so for no better reason than I can recreate entries or write better ones as time goes on, I won't despair.
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Now to update everyone on my family. As I said in my last entry, the first quarter is over. I did Parents/Teachers conferences and I got Becki's report card. She was told by the administrator at her college that if she is going to attend next year, it will be because she maintains a C average throughout the rest of her high school career. I explained that to her at the beginning of the year. She promised me she'd keep her work up. So here I am at Parent/Teachers conferences, ready to peek at her grades, and almost convinced all was for naught. I open her report card, and there it was. One A in ROTC, and solid C's. Talk about following directions. Whew.
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Becki's birthday is at the beginning of November, and so is Gloria's. In fact they share the same birthday. As odd as it seems whomever Ed or Jon date share Becki's birthday or has it within a day or two of Becki's. Anyway, last weekend, my daughter should have had a great weekend. On Friday, we all joined C&D, Becki's Godparents, at a new Italian restaurant. The food is outstanding. We shared a cake I bought at the bakery I used to work for, and the girls opened presents.
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The restaurant owner cut the cake. It's called an atomic cake, with one layer each of white, chocolate and banana cake, whipped cream frosting, and with a layer each of fresh strawberries and bananas filling. It's richer than I can stand, but that's what Becki wanted. Everyone was somewhat flabbergasted when the owner wanted to know if he could try a piece. Sure, why not? If he didn't take it, I'd have to take it home and you know Bill would get at it. After trying it, he then wanted to know where I got it. I told him, and told him also to tell them Jude sent him. He said he would and then promised to take a penny jar from me.
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Becki's friends threw her a party on Saturday, and on Sunday we were invited to Gloria's for dinner. This was the first time we met Gloria's parents. We were invited before, but when Jon said that a lot of her family would be there, we thought we would be intruding. No, this time we were more strongly invited. According to Jon, Gloria's Mom, Marie, cooks every Sunday, and usually serves a crowd. This is how she likes to spend Sunday. So when I bought the cake, I picked up 20 hand dipped chocolate covered strawberries. (I love chocolate, and hate strawberries.) I found out later that Marie does not allow those who visit for the first time to bring anything. Well we got to the door, I handed her the box. "Sorry," I said, "I bought these before I knew about your rule about newcomers not bringing anything, and I'm not taking them back." When I told her what they were I thought maybe she'd hide in the bathroom and inhale them. (Only teasing.) She loves strawberries, and apparently so did everyone else there.
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I was surprised to see Jon's friends, Eric and Arthur, as well as a couple of the girls that spent their Saturday nights in our yard. We met Gloria's grandparents and a couple of uncles.
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Now dinner at Marie's is a study in absolute organization. She could shame the Marine Corp. If she says be there at 2, don't dare be late. Marie had all the furniture in her living room removed. In place of the sofa, tables and chairs, she had long dinner tables and chairs set up. We were ordered to find our name tags and sit. Each place setting had a plate, fork and a napkin. That was all we got and all we needed. Once Marie was ready, she ordered us into the kitchen to help ourselves to snacks. I took my plate and got some for Bill and I. When we finished that, the plates were collected by Gloria's brother, we said Grace and dinner was served on the same plate. We had roasted garlic stuffed shells. (It was wonderful, but I can still taste garlic.) We ate, we were given drinks (Marie found out what we drank beforehand), plates were collected again and we were given a choice of cheese cake, red velvet cake and double chocolate cake. Before they came out, we sang happy birthday first to Gloria and then to Becki.
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The only thing I will say about this experience other than it was completely orchestrated, is that these people are louder than I am. And I am loud. I am very loud. I tried to carry on a conversation with Gloria's Grandmother and her neighbor, but we either had to wait until some of the noise passed or we shouted. Once it was all over and the cake consumed, Gloria's brother and sister cleaned the living room, striping the table and trashing the cake plates, and then stacked the chairs and took down the tables. Not ten minutes later, the dishes were done and the furniture was replaced. And suddenly all the adults went home. Bill and I were the last ones standing there. We were astounded. I mean we had a really good time, it's just I had never seen anything that organized in my life. I could only imagine what Marie would think of my mess.
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I asked Becki how her weekend was. She said, "It was the worst birthday I ever had."
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"How could you say something like that? Didn't you have fun at Gloria's? Or with your friends?
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"My cat died."
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Yes, Pizza died on Sunday. It's still hard to say and hard to think of without tearing up. I miss my baby. We all do. She was the sweetest, most loving and most even tempered cat I have ever known. Sunday morning Jon was helping at Gloria's to set everything up. When I called him to tell him about Pizza, he hurried home. The four of us, Ed, Jon, Becki and I, just clutched each other and cried.
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So we're right in the middle of Christmas season, and here it is not even Thanksgiving yet. I went before City Council a few weeks ago and spoke about our Angel group. It was crowded that night and there were TV cameras. I said that we would need help this year more than ever just because of the economy. With joblessness on the rise more families than ever would need help this year. I expected to received less this year than last, and last year was bad.
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Since then I have been receiving phone calls, both people looking for help and from people who want to help. Way back in August I went to Meet the Teachers Night at Becki's school. Her ROTC instructor, Sgt. L., cornered me. "We want to help. Write me a letter and tell me what you need." I did. I said I need food and lots of it. At Parents/Teachers Conferences, he told me that he and Sgt. K. were going to get the kids together on 2 food drives, one for Thanksgiving, and the other for Christmas. I expected a couple of cans here and there. Becki tells me that Sgt. L. has turned this into a competition between classes. Each child in the winning class will get chocolate as a reward. She tells me that the food is almost overwhelming at this point, it is climbing the walls.
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At the last City Council meeting, our Clerk told me their donations were getting out of hand. So the boys and I picked it all up today. The van is full. We had food, and outerwear. Someone left a baby layette, including a yellow and green quilt and pillow, matching crocheted sweater set and clothing. It was all in a nice plastic bag. That is until I got to the van with it in hand. The plastic bag broke and it all fell in the street. It's been drizzling for 2 days. I was heart sick.
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I passed out penny jars to local businesses today , and I stopped at the Library. The new director, who is the son of a former alderman, agreed to sponsor a food drive. My friend, Debby, is organizing it. Because of the economy, there are a lot of kids and adults alike who can't afford late fees. They've decided that for each can or boxed good, or for every 4 packs of Rahman noodles, brought in, $1 would be knocked off late fees, or a voucher would be issued for the next late fees.
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When Debby told her boss my name, he asked me if I knew Ed. Apparently he teaches at U.C.L.A. (University Closest to LaGrange Avenue) and Ed has him for College 101. I should have mentioned that Ed also attended Boy Scouts with his little brother and his cousin. Didn't think of it then. The director's father, though, has helped us out quite a bit over the years.
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Needless to say, I am in awe. There are so many reaching out to us. The only drawback so far, other than the layette, was that another friend bought me twenty pairs of stretch gloves. I put them in the van and left them there. I figured I'd lose them in the house, or forget about them altogether. Last week Becki went out to the van first thing in the morning. She found the driver's seat flat, and cigarette ashes all over the middle seat. (I refuse to lock it. It's a '94. God only knows if I can unlock it again.) She said that flumes of fresh smoke wafted out the door when she opened it. Considering none of us smoke, we decided that a homeless person must have spent the night there. And now I can't find those gloves. I wonder if he didn't take them, keep a pair or two and pass the rest out. I mentioned it to George. She said just what I expected. "Stolen or not, they got to someone who needed them." Okay, so they were meant to keep someone's hands warm who couldn't afford to buy them for themselves. How can I get angry?
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I won't be around as much as I'd like at this point just simply because of the season. I'll be working harder and longer this year. We have lots of donations now, but whether we can hang onto this level of participation is the question. So if I don't get on before the holidays, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
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Pizza, July 28, 1994, to November 9, 2008
We love you, and we miss you, my beautiful lady

Family Update

and Just a quick update. My stomach is still bothering me. It will pass again, but then again when I don't watch what I eat, I'll be suffering again. It's surprising though just what gluten is in. I usually find out the hard way.
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and I've had problems all my life, but every doctor I've ever visited told me something different. It was a birth defect in my small intestines that caused me discomfort, or I had colitis, or even that I was too high strung. One doctor ask me what I thought my problem was. I repeated what the last doctor said, which was nerves. The new doctor gave me tranquilizers. I was 16 years old at the time. After taking them for two days and having slept for two days, I pitched them in the garbage.
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and Then about nine years ago I went on a low carb diet, where I cut out most carbs, including bread. My stomach quit bothering me. I felt so good. Or should I say I didn't feel anything. And I didn't have the um..... Never mind, it's embarrassing. My first piece of white bread after weeks of dieting sent me straight to the bathroom, and in no time at all either. Needless to say, white bread is the first thing I cut out of my diet.
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and So I bought my washer. When Jon got home the next day, he and Ed took the back seat out of the van. We went to Best Buy first. To my surprise every decently priced top loader they had was gone. The mates sat next to the empty spaces where the washers should have been. The boys had plans and it was late, so we went to the next closest store, which was Menards. I was surprised. I found what I wanted at the price I wanted. I still have a mountain of clothes, although it is shrinking.
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and So Becki stayed in for a couple days between work. I spoke to her after her experience with the nut job and the brick. She said she was frightened. I think she was happy to be grounded. But then she took off with Crazy Ann once I let her out. Two expeditions later, one to a coffee shop in Berwyn, and next grocery shopping in Alsip, and suddenly the two are fighting again.
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and Becki is back with Jen and Superbaby. But then again, she spends as much time with them as she can anyway. Speaking of Superbaby, he's getting big. Jen and Becki went shopping for his first Halloween costume. He'll be a pumpkin. Of course. I don't know one kid who wasn't a pumpkin at least once. They plan to take him out trick or treating. Superbaby is only a few months old, so you know whose going to eat his candy.
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and One reason Becki has so much time to spend with Crazy Ann is because Jen is going to school every week night. She's taking message therapy. She always wanted to be a nurse and had planned to go to nursing school before she got pregnant. Times change and situations change. I hope though, that she'll try to get back to her original plans somehow. She'd make a great nurse.
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and Tomorrow is Parents/Teachers conferences. It's hard to believe the first quarter is over. Becki thinks her grades should be decent. I hope so. Ed tells me his grades are great. I know Becki won't end up on honor roll, but maybe if Ed is doing as well as he says he is, he might make the Dean's List. Then I can get one of those bumper stickers for the van. You know the one: My kid is an honor student at UCLA. (That's the University Closest to LaGrange Avenue.)