The aftermath of another Chicago storm

A view of the day and our former Isuzu Trooper that Charlie still drives...

I am feeling bad. Okay, not so bad. I do feel bad, however for the folks up north and east of us in Michigan. I saw poor Mary’s situation of having lightning strike her home for the second time and this time the big TV was saved by the surge protector even though it, itself, was blown off the wall, leaving burn marks as decoration. She also explained how the second strike differed from the first, “…Different tree but right next to the one that got hit in May that caused $4000 in damage. This time it took out the new frig, micro , small tv, dishwasher…all run with electronics that fried! Think our insurance company will keep us?”

I guess our storm results just don’t hold a candle to that. Mike didn’t drive home, storm-scared as he was, not having had good results in the last Chicago storm while we were in Canada. As it happens, the violence that was predicted for us was non-existent. We barely got a drizzle’s worth of water. I am sure glad that I watered the plants, especially the new $2.99 mums I threw in to make up for the ugliness of heat scarred flower beds.

After having done a few errands yesterday in the intense heat, I came home and trimmed the back yard, as the crabgrass was doing its insidious run out from the lawn in its attempt to take over the cracked concrete. This is known in suburban venues as a “Crabgrass plot!” I cleaned up the flower beds, worked on a continued taming of the rose bush that I am forcing to a trellis, and planted those cheap mums. Things look good enough that breakfast on the patio is going to be a treat, what not having to see the visual pollution of a messy yard!

Charlie came over, fresh from his stint in Milwaukee where he now lives, not among the jobless anymore and back for the weekend to pick up some things to complete his move into his apartment. He has some things to pick up and people to see, his sister is even in from NYC where she now lives after having gone to school there for four years. We had a great time last night as we had a strange dinner of “Irish Nachos” (crinkle cut slices of potatoes, baked in the oven, smothered with cheddar cheese, green onion rounds, and the obligatory sour cream and maybe even hot sauce. While conversing with Charlie, we got hooked on a new computer game, a not so new game, Mah Jongg.

One of the things I bought yesterday is a solar spotlight which now means I can be lazy and leave the flag out all night. It didn’t work last night, I realize now the switch had been turned off, but that was okay as I brought it in because of the impending “storm.” Ahem, once again my thoughts on meteorology come to the forefront. I am still convinced that the best method of predicting is to have a basic idea of weather systems’ movements and then put your stupid face out the door and check the sky and situation. I feel that is more reliable than meteorological reports!

Not sure where this day is headed, but given the beauty of the day, I am guessing I shall spend a bit of time on two wheels as I attempt to get to the five hundred mile mark this summer. Thanks to an app (this is written for John up north who has noticed my addiction) that costs more than my usual $.99 limit, I easily keep track and annoy a large number of people by allowing it to self-post on Facebook in French. Hey, you do what you have to do to keep motivated and moving despite the inherent arthritis and other issues than come as you age. Looking at the moms in the nursing home, frozen in their wheel chairs, I am running, or should I say riding, scared. Who wouldn’t be?

We are waiting for Charlie, he kindly offered to go get bagels at our local bagel place, “Upper Crust.” The patio is set, the coffee is brewed, and we have another nice day ahead of us on Labor Day Weekend.

About Richard Koerner

Sixty something, father, papi, educator, organizer, Francophile, traveler, amateur photographer, gardener, cyclist, kayaker, calligrapher, cinephile, reader, and overall renaissance type human being.
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