Day 40: Lone Roller

A lone chair sits. Abandoned. Left for dead. Next to the garbage.

Once regal and impressive, the chair is now a cast off.

He's only missing one button cover. He even has all of his wheels! Flying through my mind as I passed by the alley, I briefly contemplated the chair. And then, doubled back to take a closer look.

If I took the chair, how would I get it home? Obviously I'd have to roll it the mile and a half . . . and it's better than carrying it, but awkward nonetheless. 

Should I just push it in front of me the whole way, like a shopping cart?

Sit in the chair and scoot along bit by bit?

Or perhaps launch myself backwards, elementary school style, in order to get the most propulsion? . . . Steering would be difficult though . . .

In the end, all I got was this photo. I really didn't want to deal with all of the looks I'd undoubtedly collect as I walked the chair home. And I simply don't have a place for it. Sorry, Chair. 

In the words of the Narwhal from Elf, "Bye Buddy! I hope you find your dad!" 

"Bye, Chair! I hope you find a new home!"

Day 39: Flowers & Flowers

Check out the sparkle on these flowers!

While walking by some nature with my dear friend, E-Biscuit, we were dazzled by some glittering goodness that caught our eyes. Wouldn't you know it, it was these flowers! Pop quiz - can you name what they are??

Get ready for more horticulture facts to be thrown your way! 

Very close to the 'sparkle flowers' was a produce demonstration garden (to show the city folk how you can grow your own veggies and what can thrive in Chicago). We moseyed along the edge of the garden checking out the various plant life. All I can really recall was lettuce, but I know there was a lot more than that! Anywho, we came upon some other flowers, which I recognized right way. 

I said to my companion, "E-Biscuit, you can eat those flowers."

[Perplexed and doubtful look. Then a laugh.] 'What?! You eat flowers?!!'

"They're called Nasturtiums and you can bite off the tip and suck out the sweet nectar. Then you can eat the petals - they're spicy."

[E-Biscuit's not convinced]

"Here, I'll show you," I said as I crouched down so the  employees overseeing the garden wouldn't see me picking their flowers. As soon as I had one cupped in my hand and hidden by my water bottle, we scampered a few meters away to sample our loot.

"Suck out the nectar. Do you taste anything sweet??"

'Not really.'

"Oh," I disappointedly respond. "Well, eat a petal, they're spicy!"

' . . . ' [crickets]

"I'll show you," I declare as I rip off a petal and pop it in my mouth.

E-Biscuit's in after that and away we go, chomping down on the flower.

"It doesn't get spicy 'till the very end."

'Oh! That's nice!' E-Biscuit delightedly concurred. 

After our snack we discussed the great appeal of dressing a salad for a dinner party and tossing in flowers to the mix - and our guests' reaction as we dive right into our edible garnish.

Photo courtesy of: http://www.wikihow.com/Use-Nasturtiums-in-Food - check it out to see how you can get more nasturtiums into YOUR diet!

Day 38: Something Fishy . . .

A new fancy housing development went in across the street.

Now I can't play in the empty lot anymore. It was mostly just a plot of grass with a few dirt patches, but I saw it as my own personal park. But not anymore . . .

The bottom floor of the development was left empty. Mom said they were going to put a business in there, but she didn't know what kind.

A few weeks ago they started putting things inside - for the new business. It's going to be a restaurant, a fish restaurant. I overheard some people who lived there say how convenient having a restaurant on the ground floor will be. I don't know what 'convenient' means, I'm only seven, but I think they were happy about the fish.

The restaurant's been open for a couple of months now. At first people were really excited and there were always a lot of people around. Mom made me hold her hand every time we left the house until we reached the train station! Now there are fewer people around, but the restaurant seems to be busy all of the time.

It seems now, the only people who don't like the restaurant anymore are those that live above it. I don't understand. I thought they were excited about it. Mom said it's because of the smell. I still don't understand. I think if my house started smelling like fish sticks every day, I'd be in heaven! Mom asked me if I'd want my house to smell like rotting fish everyday. My mom's so silly, they don't sell rotting fish in restaurants!!

I guess the people who live there are angry because they paid a lot of money to live above that restaurant and now they don't like it. They're trying to make the restaurant move to a different spot. I don't want them to leave though. Every day Mom and I walk to the train we wave at Mary or Dean if they're working. And they always give Rocket, our dog, treats. Not to mention they have a GIANT fish tank inside!

If I can't have my personal park anymore, I at least want to keep my fish restaurant . . .

Day 37: Windy Day

This piece of art - and yes, I am absolutely calling it art - is titled "Windy Day."

What do you see?

Can you tell what it's made out of?

Earlier this afternoon, I was planning to affix it to either a small piece of wooden board or clear plastic. Unfortunately, pieces kept getting pushed out of place - first by the initial gust of the spray adhesive I had planned to use, and then even more by my fingers ["don't you point those dirty green sausages at me!" . . . anyone know what that's from? :)]

In my frustration, I gave up. My piece of art now looks like this:

RIP "Windy Day."

Day 36: Resident Food Fairy

Hi, I'm the resident food fairy!

I'm a foodie swashbuckler, keeping innocent people safe from unruly food monsters. It's tough work, but someone has to do it. And let me tell you, there was a lot of work to be done yesterday!

The 4th of July makes for some pretty crazy adventures. You'd think Thanksgiving would be the worst day for me, but not really, since everyone is inside. All I can do then is look through the windows . . . while standing in the snow and cold . . . and occasionally tap my cucumber sword against the glass when someone's about to eat too much. But they don't hear me . . . they never hear me . . .

But back to yesterday. Boy did I see a LOT of hot dogs. And some were even dressed like me! Of course much smaller. And there were so many sides of potato salad I thought surely all of the grocery stores in the city must be out of potatoes! Still waiting for confirmation on that one . . .

I think the worst thing I saw yesterday was the human firework. There was a group of people who had started with their liquid appetizers, if you will, much too early in the morning {what is this, St. Patrick's Day?!}. So when the real food started rolling in, first with chips and dip and watermelon, then salads and fruit and corn on the cobb, and finally hot dogs and hamburgers, one man in particular was in bad shape. He'd reached his limit very quickly into his feast, but was determined to overcome it. Dressed like a heel in his star-spangled outfit, he proceeded to eat and drink and, for the most part, be merry, until dusk approached.

As the sky began to darken his friends wanted to start setting off their fireworks. "I got this, I got this!" the yankee doodle man called. But as he bent over to light the fuse, a very different explosion took place. It was loud and colorful and full of surprise. Unfortunately, it wasn't at all pleasant or beautiful for anyone watching. What they saw, that terrible sight, was the rejection of everything that had once passed through that man's mouth. And instead of a lingering scent of smoke and sulfur, the air around him smelled of emptied bowels. It was atrocious!

I evacuated the area immediately. If anyone is unable to be in control of their own body, I'm of no help to them! Instead, I wandered east, and found a nice porch to swing to take in the night's show. Thanks to Ethel and William, the perfectly aged couple that lives there, I learned of the friendship between fireworks and hearing aides.

Day 36: Happy Coming-of-Age, America!

Happy Independence Day! Or, if America were a person, happy recognition day of when you officially left the kid's table to take your place with the adults!

As I'm sure you know, there are many other - more common - celebrations of the day: fireworks, wearing the American flag in some form, and (made official by my Dentist's office) HOTDOGS.

This was the image of my 'Happy 4th of July' email from them:

Wow, a mustard "America," that just takes it to a whole new level. And don't forget the baseball!

Animals especially love the July 4th holiday. As witnessed on my walk to the train:

OWNER: "Oh, it's alright. Come on, Sweetie, just pee. Just one time."

Day 35: Contemporary Street Art

Piled up on the side of the road.

Not a typical location for an art installation, but modern art tends to stretch the boundaries far and wide these days.

Walking by at dusk, the pile seemed massive; strategically placed to resemble an effortless abandon. Bravo!

And in the darkness, the reflective strips emit an eerie glow from a colony unknown.

Now, if we view this pile of caution cylinders from the perspective of one who is NOT going to an art show, but simply going about their normal life walking down the sidewalk, we might think this pile looks like it was a complete accident, through which a car may or may not have driven into it multiple times.

But hey, who am I to question ART?!