The kids and I recently had a chance to check out Oz Park.
Oz Park
The kids and I recently had a chance to check out Oz Park.
My So Called Life
Found Mulberry Pie
Just in case you were worried that we missed sneaking around Chicago to find illicit mulberries this year, don’t worry! We didn’t.
Sara and the kids collected enough to make this pie, and the kids absolutely insisted that I show it to you. So, here it is:
I can attest to the pie’s deliciousness. What is it about secret mulberries that makes them taste so good?
Despite it’s beauty, the pie didn’t last long.
I got a new job
After 9 years at my current job, today is officially my last day. End of an era.
I got a new job
One that won’t make me sick
One that won’t make me crash my car
Or make me feel three feet thick
There are lots of things I’m excited about at the new job, but none more so than the commute. My new job is downtown, so I’ll be taking the train. In addition to saving myself 2 hours* of stressful Chicago driving every day, I can actually turn that time into something productive. Read a book, write, do some knitting. Anything other than stare at the bumper of the car in front of me.
*2 hours assuming nothing unusual, like construction, an accident, any kind of weather, a large event going on in town, it being Friday…because those would make it take a lot longer. Luckily, none of THAT stuff ever happens.
I got a new job
One that won’t hurt my head
One that won’t make my mouth too dry
Or make my eyes too red
Certainly it is a bit nerve wracking to give up what you know for a new opportunity. I mean, I think it’s for the better. I hope it’s for the better! But you never really know, right? Change is scary. What if they won’t let me sit at their lunch table? What if they go out of business next month? What if they’re all secretly lizard people who run the world and they think I’m a lizard person and that’s why they hired me and when they find out I’m not a lizard person they put me in a dungeon so I can’t reveal the secret lizard person plot to the media?
On the other hand, no risk, no reward (e.g. ruling the world at the head of a secret lizard-person cabal). And after 9 years, I think it’s just time to move on. They certainly seem like a fun group of lizards people. They like legos. The conference rooms are named after planets from Star Wars. I said I write science fiction in my cover letter, and they actually considered that a plus.
One that won’t make me nervous
Wondering what to do
One that makes me feel like I feel when I’m with you
When I’m alone with you
I’m nervous, but excited. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be awesome. At the very least, it will be different.
The way I figure it, worst case scenario, at least I have a whole new group of people who haven’t heard any of my stories. Time to start over at the beginning…
Locked Out
So, we kind of sort of went a little crazy at the farmer’s market the other day:
(Not pictured: ice cream cones)
Most of that food is already long gone, including the cherries, which have mostly been canned for future cherry pies. That part was pretty awesome.
Less awesome, was the part that came right after.
I was carrying all of those berries (you’d be surprised at how much 8 quarts of cherries and 5 lbs. of blueberries weighs!), so I gave my keys to Sara to let us in the house. Sara, doing what she usually does, set my keys down…somewhere. After taking the picture above, we went right out the back door to head over to the garden.
Sara: “You’ve got to lock the door.”
Me: “You’ve got my keys, I gave them to you.”
Sara: “…no I don’t!”
Sure enough, locked out.
Sara: “Well, I just assume you always have keys, so I don’t worry about it.”
Me: “I do always have keys, except when I give them to you.”
It is SO FRUSTRATING to know that your keys are just right there on the other side of this stupid little lock, and if you could just…turn it really fast, or shake it around a lot or maybe BURN THROUGH WITH YOUR LASER EYES POWERED BY THE HEAT OF YOUR RAGE, you could just grab those keys. But you can’t.
What you can do is start calling locksmiths.
This is a surprisingly disappointing endeavor. The first 4 or so were closed, busy, didn’t answer, or wanted to charge $300 to do it. (“You know,” said Sara, “it only cost us $100 to replace that window when it broke. I’m just saying.”)
I finally found someone who said they could be out in 25 minutes, with a base price of $60. Perfect.
…wait for it…
Yeah, 25 minutes turned into 2 hours, and, despite the fact that it took him about 5 minutes to open the door, the “base price” somehow didn’t apply to our situation. Something about the smell of desperation making it cost more, I don’t know.
So they told me it was going to be $150, but I talked him down to $120 (and why wouldn’t you, when you just tricked someone into paying you double?). So that guy makes about $1440 an hour, apparently. Good work, if you can get it.
Anyway, the kids couldn’t stay put for 2 hours, so Sara walked them to the bookstore and back while I twiddled my thumbs. As far as they’re concerned, this was all good fun and makes for a great story to tell everybody they see.
I fought the law and (half) won
As you undoubtedly don’t remember, we hit a tremendous pothole on our way back from our vacation back in June of 2014 (yes, a full year ago). The pothole blew out our tire, bent our rim, and trashed our hubcap.
My co-worker said you could submit your receipts to the city of Chicago and they would reimburse you, since technically it is their fault for not maintaining the roads. That seemed a bit crazy, but hey, why not?
I’m happy to report that it’s true! Kind of.
Over the course of the year, they would periodically send me requests for information. Usually it was information they already had (forex, I sent my driver’s license number at least 3 times). I always dutifully sent in whatever they wanted…or at least I tried to. Often the emails would bounce and I had to send everything by snail mail. Time would pass, and I would get some other random email.
Eventually I got notice that they were offering to “settle my claim” for exactly half of my costs. Now, I have to admit, this kind of peeved me. I had sent in the receipts for what I actually paid, and they had divided them exactly in half. Clearly they can do this, because nobody would expect them to ever pay any of this money, so even half of what you are due is more than you ever expected. Naturally, I wasn’t going to take them to court over this, so what choice did I have? Clever girl.
So I caved, and signed, and took half. Low and behold, a check!
It still annoys me that you’ve got to accept half of what you’re due, but hey! I never thought I’d see a dime! Unexpected money!
Shane Halbach 