For the Record

When I bought my first car after moving to Chicagoland, I had no idea I needed a Bensenville (my place of residence at the time) city sticker. We don't have those in Iowa, so it never even occurred to me to get one. I actually drove my car for almost a year without a sticker.  Then I went out to my car one morning and found a ticket on my windshield.  I was slapped with a $50 fine for not having a City of Bensenville sticker.  I didn't even know what was meant by a "city sticker."  I quickly found out that ignorance is no excuse, and it is also costly. Not only did I get hit with the fine, I still had to buy the current year's sticker, plus pay the late fee. This was my introduction to what I call "back-door taxing," all those little ways that municipalities generate revenue without actually calling it a tax.

It's been said that living in Oak Park is like living in one giant condo assocation, given all the rules and regulations.  Our tag line may be Step Out of Line, but in reality it should be "Stop here for more than a quick second, and we'll find a way to ticket you."

So, when these two envelopes were in my mailbox today I became instantly cranky.  "What now?!" was my initial thought.  Then I simmered down.  It was just the Village mailing me the new stickers that must be displayed in the cars by July 1st.  You may wonder why in the world I consider this "blog worthy," and why my entry is titled as it is.  In the last year, the Oak Park enforcers have been known, on occasion, to ticket a vehicle for not having a sticker, even when one was displayed.  When citizens appealed the ticket with proof they had purchased the sticker they were told, "You may have purchased it on time, but there's no proof you actually had it displayed in your vehicle."

For the record, I received my sticker today, and I promptly placed it on the front of my minivan.  It's two weeks before the July 1st deadline.

A New Look

Kelsey was ready for a new look.  She wanted to shorten her hair and get another piercing.  This morning she looked like this:

and this afternoon, with her hair about six inches shorter and another piercing, she looked like this:

Kelsey has a long-term vision for multiple piercings in both ears. She's planning on seven total. Today was #2.

Date Night: Taking Care of Orphans

I grew up hating cheese.  When I was very young, I got sick on a neighbor's batch of Velveeta-based mac 'n cheese, and I refused to touch the stuff ever again.  Velveeta and American cheese singles, in my mind, were insanely disgusting, and they were the cheeses I was mostly exposed to in my growing up years.  Even after I became an adult, I held fast to my "I hate cheese" attitude, simply because I refused to investigate cheese any further.  I assumed that all cheese was highly processed and generally bad tasting.

I even spent 36 hours in Paris, and barely touched the cheeses there.  I did break down and have a bowl of classic French onion soup.  I remember the cheese in the soup tasted pretty darn good, but I thought that had more to do with the fact that I was, after all, dining in Paris, at a restaurant equidistant from the Eiffel Tower and the Seinne River.  How could it not be tasty?

For the next several years, I assumed that good cheese could only be found in Paris and required a trip across The Pond, and was therefore unattainable.

My attitude toward cheese began to shift a few years later when I took a cooking class that featured the importance of using quality ingredients.  The case in point was Parmesan Cheese.  Our class was first given the cheap, dried, out-of-the-can cheese to taste.  I just couldn't bring myself to admit to a roomful of other adults, in the middle of a cooking class, that I don't eat cheese.  I took a small taste.  Unimpressive, to say the least.  Our chef-instructor kept upping the quality of cheese on us, giving us samples of ever-more-expensive varieties until at last we were eating this insanely wonderful, expensive cheese.  As I ate - and enjoyed - that cheese, it occurred to me that I had misjudged myself.  I didn't hate cheese; I was merely a cheese snob.

Then the Marion Street Cheese Market came to Oak Park.  I was excited but a bit frustrated.  It was entirely possible to blow the weeks' grocery budget in a single trip to that store.  This type of high quality cheese was fantastic but nearly out of reach.  I decided it was worth saving for and including in special occasion meals.

In the last year or two, the Cheese Market came up with an absolutely brilliant idea: they started selling "orphan" cheeses.

An orphan cheese is a piece that is more than a sample, but a bit too small to be sold on its own.  These  pieces are individually wrapped and placed in a basket.  I absolutely love this because it allows me to bring home incredible, expensive cheese at an affordable price.

Tonight, Baird and I were surprised to find ourselves alone for a few hours on a Monday evening, and decided to make it a wine, cheese and fruit night.  We went to Trader Joe's and spent that gift certificate I won from the library.  Then we headed over to Marion Street Cheese Market and rescued several orphans.  They had names like "Bogart," "Rembrandt," and "Big Ed's."  One orphan came from a place called The Cowgirl Creamery.  We ate and drank and watched the 1940 movie The Philadelphia Story. Taking care of the cheese orphans while watching a timeless, intelligent classic film made for a perfect in-house date.

Ending on a Good Note

Erin's Strikers U14 Navy team has played well this spring, getting better and better with each game.  They played three games in three days this weekend.  They lost a heartbreaker Friday night 0-1, and they lost again on Saturday after a 90-minute rain delay.  This afternoon they played their last game, and they won 2-1.  It was a great way to end the season.

Erin made lots of friends on her team, and she truly enjoyed playing for Coach Mick this year.  He treated the girls to ice cream at Dairy Queen after the game.

Thanks, Mick, for a sweet season!

My Own Little (hairless) Energizer Bunny

This is the last weekend for spring soccer.  All three kids have been playing this year:  Kelsey and Drew for co-ed AYSO teams; Erin for Strikers.  Between the three of them, there are five games this weekend.  Drew played extremely well in his last game of the season, scoring two goals and assisting on two more.

Drew has so much energy that playing in just one soccer game doesn't really wear him out.  In addition to his own game, Drew sometimes acts as line judge for his sisters' games, running up and down the sidelines almost as quickly as the players.  Other times he's more the mascot, hanging out with the team and cheering them on, and refilling their water bottles as needed.  It has occurred to me, now that he has his head shaved, that he's a bit like a hairless Energizer Bunny:  he just keeps going...and going...and going.

Today was one of those times.  For Kelsey's co-ed U19 game this afternoon, there was no referee, so Drew served as both line judge and unofficial ref.  Kelsey's coach gave him a whistle, and Drew reffed from the sidelines with energy and enthusiasm.  Even after playing his game, he was not at all tired, and ran up and down the field to keep up with the ball and the plays.  His knowledge of the rules of the game is incredible, and his stamina is downright inspiring.

I'm not sure which was more surprising:  that Drew wasn't intimidated to ref kids twice his age, or that they actually listened to him.  He made good, fair calls.  Kelsey's coach gave Drew the coach's jersey to keep as a way to say, "Thanks for ref-ing."

Free Trader Joe's, Compliments of the Library

I've been participating in the library's summer reading program for adults.  That means I read books, fill out a slip of paper saying whether or not I liked the book, and put the paper into a box for a weekly drawing.  This morning I received news that I'd won the weekly drawing!  My prize:  a $15 gift card to Trader Joe's.  I can't wait to spend this!

HAWKS WIN!

In the interest of full disclosure, we're not a die-hard hockey familly.  We've kept an eye on the Blackhawks throughout the long season, and we were excited when they made the playoffs.  We didn't really start watching the games in earnest, however, until they made the Stanley Cup finals.

When you live in Chicago you understand that for our local sports teams, participating in - and winning - championship games is a very rare thing indeed.  It's important to take a moment and watch these events, because it might be a really long time before it happens again.  I wasn't even born yet the last time the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup.  I don't remember a thing about that one, but I'll never forget tonight's game as long as I live.

Drew and I were sitting on the couch in the basement, tense as can be.  We thought the Hawks had the championship sewed up with their lead in the third period.  And then the unthinkable:  the Flyers tied the game around the three minute mark.  The game went into overtime.  We were on the edge of our seats when Patrick Kane scored the winning goal, bringing the Stanley Cup to Chicago for the first time since 1961.

Congrats to the Blackhawks!  And thanks for giving us something to cheer about!