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| Hoping for a sunny day Saturday in Chicago so we can enjoy a ball game |
So, that's over. On to the next installment. Today is Thursday, April 19, 2012. No big deal, just another day. NOAA says rain today, thunderstorms, and not going to get past 49 degrees for a high temp. Tonight, they're predicting some non-accumulating snowfall. Tomorrow, the sun is supposed to shine and be in the mid 50's around here.
But I'm going to Chicago in the morning. And guess what? I'm not driving. Taking the Megabus. Costs less than the gas it would take to drive and no parking fees. Yes, taxi fares, but I found this great little website that calculates the expected cab fare and where we are staying and where we plan on going are only short hops to the theater, out to dinner and Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs.
I'll be gone until Sunday evening when we are due to return. No computer driven communication. If you need me, text or call, and even then, I'm not sure I'll be waiting for the phone to ring. This is a weekend for Mrs. Spadoman and I to enjoy. In fact, the hardest decision we want to have to make is what and where to eat.
We're from Chicago. Both of us born there. I moved to the nearby suburb of Melrose Park as a two year old. Barb was more like 7-8 years old when her folks left the city for the suburb of LaGrange Park, IL. We lived there until 1974 when we picked up the family and moved to Minnesota.
We rented a farm house about 20 miles North of St. Paul and spent the entire month of August that year sitting under a huge oak tree. There were two exciting events every weekday, and one every weekend. The mail would be delivered is one. We didn't get much mail, but when those advertisements were shoved in that mailbox that sat out there on the side of the road, that walk to go see what the man had brought us was sure fire energy.
The other event was the owner of the farm, who lived in the small town of Centerville, MN, a couple of miles away, when he came to milk the nine head he had in the milk barn. Coupled with this twice a day milking was when the Dairy truck came out of Lindstrom and picked up the 100 pound cans of raw milk that were kept in the water filled trough to keep them cool.
Earl, the farm owner, had planted a few rows of sweet corn. He told us we could have all we wanted and that he didn't want us to waste it. We had fresh picked sweet corn pretty near every day and put some by in the freezer for winter. I guess there are a few stories I can tell about living on that farm. I'll have to get to that someday. Maybe that's what I should have done yesterday rather than bitch and complain. Another Mea Culpa.
So, while I get ready to go to Chicago, I will leave you with a very short 18 second YouTube video of me on my Triumph Motorcycle last Summer. Sounds cool, don't it?
Peace
