Congratulations!

I'm doubly excited by the news this evening that Illinois has approved same-sex marriage because we lived there in those first golden years of our relationship and knew so many couples who can now be legally wed.

We've been pretty nostalgic for Chicago recently, especially after our date night Saturday which included a delicious Ethiopian meal and then a concert by those "troubadours of peace," Libana, a women's a capella group that focuses on music by women from around the world.  I have long known their CDs and songs because Artemis Singers, the lesbian chorus I sang with in Chicago, was often inspired by their arrangements.  It was a great evening of voices, percussion, other instruments (hammered dulcimer and guitar and clarinet), and dance, with selections from Albania, Sephardic Morocco, the Amazigh (the preferred term for the Berber people of North Africa), Gujarat in India, Malaysia, indigenous people in the Andes (I couldn't help but giggle because it sounded just like Peruvian street musicians in NYC!), new songs by women composers including the Peace Prayer Mandala, and others, including a chant-a-long.  It was a wonderful armchair journey, which took me not only to those places, but back to Chicago and practices with the chorus as well as (albeit very different) musical performances at Mountain Moving Coffeehouse.  Lovely memories, a lovely night.

It's a Small, Small World

Tonight I had dinner at my favorite feminist/lesbian/vegetarian restaurant (gosh, really, how many of those are there??) with my minister and another minister whom I'd met through those pastoral care and NVC workshops I've raved about.  It was a wonderful evening, even if we were all yawning by the end of it.

But get this:  the minister--the same who gave me the great pimiento cheese recipe--used to live in Chicago, where Mama and I once lived in Lesbianville, er, I mean, Andersonville.  And she attended the last performance at Mountain Moving Coffeehouse, where Mama and I spent so many nights with our friends (and Mama worked sound with L for all the acts).  Which means my new friend saw so many of our old Chicago friends.  She must have heard our dear friend M sing in the chorus that performed.  She might have gotten a rock from P.  She would have seen K get an award for service.  

It's strange, but it is very touching, even healing, to me to have met someone else, someone here, who knew MMCH, had been in that space.  So many of our ties with Chicago have grown slack over time and with the dispersal of certain segments of the community, like MMCH and the gentrification of Andersonville.  And of course, the death of M.  I have some sadness tonight for those good times.  

But also a real sense of happiness to have a new friend.

Chicago Highlights

Today, DD played a game. She lined up her baby stroller, complete with baby, in front of an empty cardboard box, which she then crawled inside. She placed her backpack full of fake food behind her and proceeded to read her Dora books. When DP asked what she was doing, she was flying. Yep, flying to Chicago.

Three weeks out and both kiddos still talk about the trip almost daily. Sometimes, they talk about the flight and the big airplane they rode on; sometimes we remember our friend "Mike-yine" and her cats and Miss Karen's drums. We read our Good Night, Chicago book a lot and talk about seeing the train in the garden. Then there are the dinosaurs at the Field and the lions outside the Art Institute. And the Bean.

And these are just the things they talk about. But there were also several great meals--lots of Chicago hot dogs and Middle Eastern food (DD inhaled her first kebab). DP and I managed some Italian beef sandwiches (wet and sweet for me; wet and hot for her. It's a Chicago thing) when the kids fell asleep in the car (that's where all the naps happened.) And one mediocre but memorable meal at the Rainforest Cafe with another good friend and lots of animatronic animals.

The Field had a marvelous new playlab, with arts and crafts and costumes, drums and corn harvesting activity which we enjoyed with our friend "Miss Diane." They also loved the stuffed animals and dinosaurs. The Botanical Gardens, up a very familiar drive through Evanston towards Glencoe, had a G-, or garden, scale train with miniature landmarks, including several Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, made out of twigs. DS especially loved the Thomas train, while DD was fascinated by the train with pigs that passed by the schoolyard. The Art Institute was probably the most disappointing, if mainly because it was the most anticipated by me--the marvelous Kraft Education Center and family exhibition space downstairs has been mostly reclaimed for storage because so many of the treasures of the museum are down while the new modern wing is being built. So, there was nowhere for the kids to play, really, being too short to see the Thorne Room miniatures well, while I viewed my favorite galleries. Which worked out fine because so much of the art I liked was off view anyway. Including all the armor and most of the pre-19th century works.

But, I did walk my children through their first real art museum, which was a highlight. DD and I examined Caillebotte's Paris Street, Rainy Day and talked about umbrellas. DS liked Monet's train painting and Renoir's image of a lady at a piano. Neither really liked Shukongo-Jin, the Japanese guardian figure (too scary) but did like the T'ang funerary ceramics, especially the lady on the horse. It was one of the hardest tours I've ever given! The first of many, I hope.

In addition to the first art museum and first kebab, there was our first real train ride, on the "el." We did the Loop, which both fascinated and frightened the kiddos. DS's mouth was agape the whole time. And DD insisted she sit in the seat, too unnerved by the swaying to stand up and look out the window. Until she did get up and then stood holding onto the pole just like any other pro. DP and I had to laugh, who would've thought that we would ever take the el for fun? Or with our own kids? Certainly not something we thought about during all those commutes.

We also took them to our old stomping grounds, which have been quite gentrified since we moved. But the good ol' lesbian/feminist bookstore Women and Children First is still there, though it now carries--gasp--male authors. The kiddos banged on the little piano and pulled numerous chapter books off the shelves while DP roamed the lesbian fiction and women's history sections and I searched for LGBT-friendly children's books. We came away with several, including the classic Heather Has Two Mommies.

Of course, the purpose of our trip was to visit our friends, and so the best parts were the conversations we all had, with the kiddos providing lighthearted distractions from the realities of breast cancer. Even if they don't know why we went, I think they will long remember our trip and our friends.

Good night, Chicago.

She who Laughs, Lasts

Our trip to Chicago last week started so well in the beginning. The idea of flying excited the kiddos, who were cooperative and good-natured for the drive to the airport, the security check (they think it's funny to take off their shoes), the wait for boarding, and even the take off. Even when the flight attendant got on the microphone with tears in her eyes and a choke in her voice and the pilot announced that we were making an unscheduled landing in Albany because of a problem with an engine (read: the engine was smoking with burning oil and they had to turn it off), even when fire trucks dotted the runway and the airport was in emergency mode, the kids were fine. They like the lollipops we give them for their ears at takeoff; they like all the one on one time with a mom; they like the little houses and little cars and huge clouds. And so, when we made that emergency landing, DD yelled out "We're in Chicago!", perfectly thrilled with our little adventure. We chuckled to ourselves in irony, noticing that no one else laughed.

It was no laughing matter. We spent almost the whole day in Albany, a perfectly nice small airport. We ate all of their allergy-friendly food in the first hours and eventually gave up and started feeding the kids happy meals. We bought several sets of cars and airplanes to play in the hallway. We chatted with other passengers, particularly the Notre Dame fans who were quickly drinking themselves into merriment. We even bought souvenirs to remind us of the experience. And we waited through the rumors--they would drive us all in a bus to NYC to fly us out that night! They would drive us all in a bus back to Hartford and we could fly out in a few days! They would bring in another plane and take us all to Chicago! We decided we wouldn't go to NYC and would only head back to Hartford in a rental car after spending the night in Albany to break up the travel. DP, who had noticed the smoke and the engine shut off, thought we were crazy to get on another plane. I just wanted to get to Chicago to see our friends. And through it all, the kids barely noticed that Albany wasn't Chicago and that we weren't exactly where we wanted to be.

In fact, when they finally boarded us on a flight to Chicago late that afternoon, DD thought we had finished our outing for the day and were going home.

And then she cried on the plane all the way to Chicago.

And so did her brother.

The Best Hot Dog Ever

All jokes aside, I'm not really that in to hot dogs. They're good, like at a ball game or park. I have had some excellent ones. There was a vendor at the World Trade Center who would grill them; I always took visitors there for the view and the hot dog. Chicago as a city worships the hot dog, with celery salt, tomato slices, and other oddities--but they are tasty. But I don't seek them out. I'm more of a chicken finger gal. But DP loves her hot dogs. Good ones, mediocre ones, though not bad ones (she shuns the microwaved hot dog). She likes all the toppings and loved when we lived in Chicago with a hot dog shack on every corner. But then she is from NYC, home of the hot dog cart on every corner . . .

Anyway, the other day I accidentally left my cooler of lunch for the kids at home during one of our outings. Good grief, what were we going to eat? As luck would have it, the tiny cafe at the museum sold hot dogs. Hot dogs without any of the fillers that my kids can't eat. Sure, the lady with the son who had celiac and was also reading the label noted, they had nitrates, but what is a cooler-less mom to do? So we had hot dogs. All three of us. And they couldn't have been happier! First, it was the kind of food everyone was eating, including Mommy. And they do love hot dogs (even the uncured turkey dogs I buy from the natural food store). So now we've eaten hot dogs all over Connecticut--at the orchard where we picked our own apples, at the zoo, at the mall. Without any allergic reactions. It's fantastic. They're having a great time being like everyone else. And even if it's a mediocre hot dog, it's the best food ever.