Why I Oughta...

I mentioned earlier in the year that we received a really nice wood carving for our home from my future-brother-in-law Bill as a Christmas/Wedding present.  Since December 25th, it has had a nice home leaning against the wall on top of our piano.  Nat was getting tired of it not being hung.  I was getting tired of not being hung.  The issue was that on the back, Bill had sunk in two fixed heavy-duty hangers.  The type that you have to put two screws in the wall then try to "hit" the hole on the back.  There wasn't a wire to hang this thing from, so I first considered stringing one of those. Nat's folks were over this weekend and I mentioned to them that I thought that's how I was going to hang it.  However, her mother reminded me that they bought me a level for Christmas last year (2008) that was made for this task:  The 36" Black and Decker Accu-Mark Level with Gecko Grip! The level is, indeed, made for hanging things on the wall.  First, it has this gr

Up in Michigan there were a few boxes of Cracker Jack in the pantry.  Like most things up there (and I presume the case is much the same at most people's lake houses), I have NO idea how old it is.  Could be a few months.  Could be a few years. It's just popcorn, carmel and nuts, right?  How bad could it be.  I cracked it open and it was - much to my displeasure - pretty stale.  Before I threw it away, I dumped the rest of it out to see what the prize was. I don't remember what Cracker Jack prizes were when I was a kid, but I have to think they were better than this. A friggin' Minnesota Twins sticker?  Seriously?  What kid is going to be into that?  Not even a Twins fan. Cracker Jack:  Who you crappin?

Here's a tip for all of you pizza take-out guys and girls.  After you pick up your pie and get into your car, crack the box lid a bit.  It'll release the steam and keep your crust nice and crisp.  Your windows steam up in the car some, but the overwhelming aroma of sausage and pepperoni more than makes up for it.  Here's the cracked box in my front seat that I picked up Friday from Two Brothers from Italy in Elmhurst. What's that?  You don't pick up your pies?  You get delivery? Sucker.

Yesterday, we closed on the sale of my condo in Frankfort.  Bittersweet day.  While I'm thrilled to have sold the property during these difficult times in the real estate world, it is sad to close a chapter on my life.  I bought the place in 2003 right after my election to the Village Board.  It was my "first place".  I bought pre-construction and picked out all of the finishes.  I loved that place.  Loved everything about it.  It was "above" a series of commercial stores.  There was an italian restaurant, a bar, a hair salon, a bank, and a Greek breakfast restaurant.  The Village really stepped out when they (we) approved it. After we got married, we moved out.  We had a few false starts with buyers who couldn't close because of mortgage issues, so we ended up renting it for a year plus.  After the babe was on her way, I decided that I wasn't interested in being a landlord any longer.  Couldn't deal with the issues.  Didn't want the stress.

We're subscribers to the print edition of "bon appetit" magazine.  I know....blame Nat and I for the demise of Gourmet!  Anyway, I don't love the magazine.  Sometimes I find something in there worth clipping, but most of the time not.  One of the features I do enjoy, however, is the section inside the back cover called "FEEDBACK".  They interview a famous (or relatively) famous person about their food peccadilloes and passions.   The questions change depending on who's being interviewed (this month is Stanley Tucci), but one question seems to be in there every month:  Name three things that are always in your refrigerator. I can do mine: giardiniera, peanut butter (yes!  We keep our pb in the fridge and I'm kinda partial to this 'flaxseed pb' from TJ's at right), and "Special Blend" dry Parm/Romano blend from Caputo's Market.    Now..it is your turn to share with me in the comments.  Only rule:  your items can't inc

On plenty of gadget/nerd blogs that I read, I often see "unboxing" of new gadgets/phones/computers.  They're step-by-step photos of un-packing of the new prized piece of technology.  It has always fascinated me that someone would go through the trouble of documenting each piece of packaging.  I don't think that it is for the ' packaging nut ', rather, I think it is said nerds way of showing off a bit on his/her new toy.   Well...good news for you.  Unless you want me to "unbox" my new mitre saw stand, I'm going to skip any such technology documentation.  Instead...I'll share with you something I find a bit more interesting: cheese.  Yes...CHEESE!  My wife LOVES peonies.  I LOVE cheese!  Rather have it than chocolate any day of the week.  Since the day I joined at work, they've always had string cheese in the fridge.  For those afternoon snacks, they've usually filled the bill.  But, when we came back from Christmas break, there was

Last fall, I c oached the kickers and punters at Elmhurst College - a Division III football team in our town.  I had contacted the head coach early in 2009 and interviewed for the job.  After a few rounds of chats, they gave me the role.   I inherited a senior kicker/punter and a junior kicker. I joined the team a month or two before fall camp, so we had a few workouts before the season hit.  The season team-wise was a bust.  We went 4-6 with a couple of heartbreaking last minute losses including a triple overtime loss. But in coaching, I had a ton of fun and gained a bunch of new friends - both players and fellow coaches.  There's not many people that provide more laughs than a bunch of college-aged men on a football team.  I would leave practice every time with a big smile on my face. Fortunately, my work schedule was flexible enough for me to be able to get to a few practices during the day- but not every one - and to most games.  They move their schedule around and do

Nat, the babe and I were up in Michigan for the past few days - and we were set to stay up there next week on vacation, but circumstances arose that required us to come home. My family loves the lake during the summer.  Everyone competes for weekends.  In fact...there's even a calendar and draft! But...for me?  I think I might prefer the winter.  It is calm.  Quiet.  Pretty.  We just light the fireplace (we used to read, but now with the babe...not so much) and relax.  I'm glad we got to spend a little bit of time up there, but I wanted more.  So glad we're going to be able to go up after voting for a few more days of respite.

Coming home from class two nights a week, I get to barely see the babe before she's off to **bed** for the night.  (I'm using 'bed' loosely.  It really is a bassinet at the side of our bed and she's in and out of it throughout the night for feedings and changings and what-not.) It is a wonderful feeling to come home to a family and one that makes me race home safely each night.  When I do get to spend some time trying to get her to sleep we share a little song together.  One that was pointed out to me by my good friend Neil as a good lullaby.  He was right.  It's a good daddy/daughter number.  For all those dads out there, hopefully you can share this with your babe's too!

If you know the difference between, say, a  Holtzapffel-style cabinet maker's bench and a split-top Roubo-style workbench , then this post will not impress you. (Bill Fox...I'm looking in your direction.) But...those of you guys who are cramped up in a condo somewhere on the northside and long for a little man-retreat, then you're going to be jealous! Anyway...back to the story.  Starting a few weeks back, I began to beat my cabin fever by beginning to organize our basement.  Our basement is probably like a lot of basements: unfinished, messy, damp, and quite a bit disorganized. During construction (or re-construction), the basement housed just about everything we owed that wasn't in our POD - and it was messy down there.  Once we moved in, we started to put everything that didn't have a home down there.  Over time, I bought some shelving units and began to put some of our stuff on the shelves, but in no particular order. We then inherited some of my siste