The Wild Wild West

Mountains... hiking... skiing... views... fresh air... sunshine... sunburns... Elsa... Triumph... Wahoo's... friends... family... wild times.

Where Winter Meets Spring

My dear brother never fails to mention how fantastic the weather in Denver is (especially after a particularly long spell of dismal Chicago grayness) . And as much as it pains me to admit it sometimes, he's right. Tonight we head out to the land of mountains and sun, to embrace a Spring more mature than ours, and to steal a few more moments of Winter's most exhilarating activity (see below).


Elsa, get your booties on... here we come!

Super Snacks

If you know Andrew and me, you know we are not sports fans. While I try to know enough to at least be conversant, I rarely follow a team (or a sport for that matter) much beyond the latest headlines and controversies. This indeed has its benefits. We watch less TV and our emotional well-being is never tied to a scoreboard. The downsides? Well, for starters, Andrew has earned the nickname "Sporty" and he recently confessed to me that he'd be interested in having a Cubs hat but is afraid that it might invite conversation about baseball. For Andrew, that's pretty much social suicide. I, however, being a woman, pretty much get off the hook. Fair or not, it's true.

In any case, what we can contribute to the wide world of sports is food. It has been an unofficial (and not quite consistent) tradition that Andrew makes guacamole for Super Bowl Sunday. I've been a faithful fan of his combination of avocados, cilantro, tomato, garlic, lime, jalapeno and onion (?) for quite some time. The only thing that has been left to modification over the years has been the quantity. One year we ended up with not just a bowl of guacamole, but a 9x13 pan of it!

Enjoy your traditions this weekend. And if anyone knows how to deflect questions about baseball stats and subtly turn to exchanging tips about sports snacks, let us know. Or if you've seen a cap with an avocado on it...

Ahoy!

Since a hobby of mine would never necessitate buying a sailboat, for example, that means I must maximize other available resources, like friends who have sailboats. Seriously, tell me that's not a good deal. Several weekends ago, a co-worker of Sarah's offered to take her and some of her friends out on his 30-foot Catalina to cruise around Lake Michigan. Our captain was exceedingly gracious and hospitable, and despite the brief thunderstorm, it was a wonderful opportunity to eat, drink and be merry... matey.

One Bet - $2; The Thrill - Priceless

While you can all breathe a sigh of relief that gambling is NOT going to become my hobby, I have to admit that I had one heck of a time at Arlington Park a few weekends ago. I lost $4, but it was totally worth it. Horse racing: a definite hobby potential.

Two Minutes

Saturday's Derby was not what we anticipated.

Sarah and I had done our homework: Big Brown, Colonel John and Pyro were the favorites. Big Brown had only won three races prior to Saturday, but they were all on dirt tracks. There would be one filly racing, Eight Belles. We even found out that all 20 horses came from the same bloodline. We conjured up a (mostly) Southern meal to celebrate, complete with Mint Juleps and everything. Four o'clock rolled around and we turned on the TV, unveiled the appetizers and thoroughly immersed ourselves in the drama-laden pre-race coverage. By 5:00, we had placed our bets (figuratively speaking), made our commentaries and finished our appetizers. We held our breath and waited.

There is a reason they say that the Derby is the most exciting 2 minutes in sports. For those 2 minutes, those horses are all that matter. You've met the trainers, owners and jockeys. You've heard about the horses' challenges and victories; you know who has a chance and who has the long odds. You've picked your favorite and you watch as it runs with all it has along the final stretch, hurtling toward that wreath of roses. For those 2 minutes, I'm convinced that anyone can be a horse racing fan.

We watched. We watched as Big Brown pulled from behind in the fourth turn to gain a wide lead in the final stretch. We watched with pride as Eight Belles (toward whom we were most partial) maintained a steady 2nd place. We watched as Big Brown won, clinching his first victory in pursuit of the Triple Crown. And we watched as the camera panned over to a collapsed Eight Belles and then discovered, to our great dismay, that she had broken both front ankles and had to be immediately euthanized. Within 2 minutes, she had gone from potential victory to ultimate defeat.

And so, perhaps it is only appropriate that the mint in our juleps was a bit wilted and our biscuits were rather flat. We still had a great feast in honor of the Derby and in anticipation of a potential Triple Crown winner. One down, two to go Big Brown. We'll be cheering for you, but we won't forget our sweet Eight Belles.

Dog Days

Every summer I try to adopt the mentality of living in the present. Summer arrives and the fun begins and then, before you know it, it's over. So I try to soak up every moment and be conscious of each day. Sometimes I succeed; sometimes I fail. But it's always a good reminder for me to look back at the summer's events and remember that we did indeed take advantage of those dog days. I know we still have some summer left, so all the more reason to be conscious of what we did and what we have left to do.

Celebrating Cristina's birthday in June

Fourth of July fireworks in Grant Park

A game of Cornhole (there have been lots of those)

Go Cubs!

Applying tattoos at our church's neighborhood block party

The Butterfly Conservatory at the Nature Museum

(Even the best of us can have an identity crisis)

The butterfly mating dance

Venetian Night at Monroe Harbor