Highlights from the Mississippi Valley
On Wednesday I drove up to the parents' house, unloaded the two bookcases, and then spent two hours re-organizing books in my Dad's office. To give you an idea of why the task took two hours: my mother's huge nursing books, her biographies, my father's executive management / supervising books, his printing books, his binders, the family photo albums, books on hobbies / wishful future projects like an outdoor brick oven or home brewery, and books on fixing things like wiring and home ventilation.
Thursday was a complete wash as I was claimed by the basement couch, the old afghan, and the History Channel's program, "Stealing Lincoln's Body." Basically the program covers the "life" of Lincoln's body after the April 1865 assassination to the fourteen day funeral procession and the 1876 plot to steal his body. In an attempt to make money since their engraver was jailed, Chicago counterfeiters plotted to go to Springfield and steal Lincoln's body on election night in 1876 (Rutherford B. Hayes vs. some other dude, which turned out to have the largest voter turn out ever at 82%). I've seen the program twice now and reality turns out to be stranger than fiction (for example, how a picture of the funeral procession in New York City goes by the Roosevelt house and in a window is Teddy with his brother watching or that Lincoln's desecrated body ends up in the basement of his memorial for around ten years after the counterfeiters fail to remove the lead-lined coffin).
On Friday mother and I had lunch at Lagomarcino's. I deviated from the hot fudge sundae to get a vanilla old fashioned soda, which was delicious. Then we went out shopping. We avoided a nasty thunderstorm that afternoon and came home with a Frank's pizza. Then an even worse thunderstorm moving at 55mph blew in with a massive shelf cloud. The skies weren't green, but the winds kept shifting and threatening to rotate. Thankfully nothing happened. In true form, Dad continued to change the oil on the motorcycles, I made cookies and cream cupcakes, and Mom drank the rest of the wine.
Saturday was a day. I had a Jetta snafu that took two hours to fix by me and my Dad. To put it simply, the tensioner on the middle seatbelt on the rear passenger seat went crazy. Instead of taking the car in or cutting the seat belt, we found the bolt that kept the seatbelt in place. Unscrewing the bolt took an hour or more because of the angle, placement and size of the bolt. Trying to screw the bolt back in took another hour of fighting because once you found the hole and got the bolt in it, the bolt wouldn't straighten to let you use the ratchet or wrench. It didn't help that space was extremely limited (for example, I had to climb into my trunk to get at the right angle with the wrench or my fingers to get at the bolt to unscrew it). A pain in the ass but fixed for free.
Dad washed the motorcycles and then fought with the drawers on the metal lathe workbench. Mom left us to check on the grandparents thereby negating the original ride plan. Eventually we all settled down, relaxed, and opted to go for a late afternoon ride to Strugis on the River. It was... rather dull. The biker event is no longer by the Mississippi River but at a fairgrounds. The storms on Friday scared off a few vendors, too. Most of the bikes were chromed out Harleys with a spattering of vintage bikes, crotch rockets and specialty bikes. Kinda boring really. We had dinner at a lackluster Mexican restaurant that made us miss El Taco Grande and other authentic Mexican restaurants in the Chicago area. Nothing out here comes close to the quality and taste we had back in the 'burbs. The ride home along the river, however, made up for the day's faults. The setting sun and low areas created patches of intense cold that felt great. Another hit was Pirate Radio, which I recommend to any music lover (especially of '60s rock) and fan of movies staring Bill Nighy, Nick Frost, Rhys Ifans, and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Oh, and I hurt my biker babe pride by falling off my dad's parked and leaning motorcycle while holding the Garmin in front of strangers outside a motorcycle store... Call me Grace.
Today... Dad has a pork shoulder with a Southern rub smoking. He liked the polo shirts I got him for Father's Day. We might go for an afternoon ride if the weather stays clear or not. So... yeah. It's good to be home since I haven't been back here in months. Shadow's loving her outside adventures underneath the hostas and Japanese maples. Magic's an old cat and sometimes you see the cat he used to be. Other times you wonder if he's still breathing. All in all, good times.
Thursday was a complete wash as I was claimed by the basement couch, the old afghan, and the History Channel's program, "Stealing Lincoln's Body." Basically the program covers the "life" of Lincoln's body after the April 1865 assassination to the fourteen day funeral procession and the 1876 plot to steal his body. In an attempt to make money since their engraver was jailed, Chicago counterfeiters plotted to go to Springfield and steal Lincoln's body on election night in 1876 (Rutherford B. Hayes vs. some other dude, which turned out to have the largest voter turn out ever at 82%). I've seen the program twice now and reality turns out to be stranger than fiction (for example, how a picture of the funeral procession in New York City goes by the Roosevelt house and in a window is Teddy with his brother watching or that Lincoln's desecrated body ends up in the basement of his memorial for around ten years after the counterfeiters fail to remove the lead-lined coffin).
On Friday mother and I had lunch at Lagomarcino's. I deviated from the hot fudge sundae to get a vanilla old fashioned soda, which was delicious. Then we went out shopping. We avoided a nasty thunderstorm that afternoon and came home with a Frank's pizza. Then an even worse thunderstorm moving at 55mph blew in with a massive shelf cloud. The skies weren't green, but the winds kept shifting and threatening to rotate. Thankfully nothing happened. In true form, Dad continued to change the oil on the motorcycles, I made cookies and cream cupcakes, and Mom drank the rest of the wine.
Saturday was a day. I had a Jetta snafu that took two hours to fix by me and my Dad. To put it simply, the tensioner on the middle seatbelt on the rear passenger seat went crazy. Instead of taking the car in or cutting the seat belt, we found the bolt that kept the seatbelt in place. Unscrewing the bolt took an hour or more because of the angle, placement and size of the bolt. Trying to screw the bolt back in took another hour of fighting because once you found the hole and got the bolt in it, the bolt wouldn't straighten to let you use the ratchet or wrench. It didn't help that space was extremely limited (for example, I had to climb into my trunk to get at the right angle with the wrench or my fingers to get at the bolt to unscrew it). A pain in the ass but fixed for free.
Dad washed the motorcycles and then fought with the drawers on the metal lathe workbench. Mom left us to check on the grandparents thereby negating the original ride plan. Eventually we all settled down, relaxed, and opted to go for a late afternoon ride to Strugis on the River. It was... rather dull. The biker event is no longer by the Mississippi River but at a fairgrounds. The storms on Friday scared off a few vendors, too. Most of the bikes were chromed out Harleys with a spattering of vintage bikes, crotch rockets and specialty bikes. Kinda boring really. We had dinner at a lackluster Mexican restaurant that made us miss El Taco Grande and other authentic Mexican restaurants in the Chicago area. Nothing out here comes close to the quality and taste we had back in the 'burbs. The ride home along the river, however, made up for the day's faults. The setting sun and low areas created patches of intense cold that felt great. Another hit was Pirate Radio, which I recommend to any music lover (especially of '60s rock) and fan of movies staring Bill Nighy, Nick Frost, Rhys Ifans, and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Oh, and I hurt my biker babe pride by falling off my dad's parked and leaning motorcycle while holding the Garmin in front of strangers outside a motorcycle store... Call me Grace.
Today... Dad has a pork shoulder with a Southern rub smoking. He liked the polo shirts I got him for Father's Day. We might go for an afternoon ride if the weather stays clear or not. So... yeah. It's good to be home since I haven't been back here in months. Shadow's loving her outside adventures underneath the hostas and Japanese maples. Magic's an old cat and sometimes you see the cat he used to be. Other times you wonder if he's still breathing. All in all, good times.