Making Do: The Food of Discovery

Every household probably has a go-to meal they whip up when there’s “no food in the house.” Maybe for you it’s a pb&j. A bowl of cereal can be nice. Some pasta with a little olive oil, garlic, and lemon, perhaps?

For our family it’s egg bread. When you’re just about out of everything, hopefully you can at least scrounge up an egg and a slice of bread. We heat up our favorite tiny cast iron skillet, dab it with a bit of butter or oil, then crack an egg and drop it onto the hot skillet.

Head for the trees when it’s all too much

The immediate neighborhood serves as a satisfactory landscape on weekdays for morning and evening walks with the dog, but on the weekend, the forest calls. As soon as I step onto a curved path winding through the trees, my lungs begin to tingle; I gulp the air laced with the perfume of soil and wood and leaves in various stages of birth, life, and decay. I can’t get enough of it! Even bare branches teem with life.

I’m one of those people who struggle to keep up with the business of being human.

‘Raise a Slice’ in Support of Huntley Historical Society

HUNTLEY — Huntley Historical Society is offering the community a delicious way to support their mission of preserving the history of the village of Huntley, reaching back to its founding in 1851 by Thomas Huntley.

On Monday, Feb. 13, Lou Malnati’s Lakewood will donate 20% of all sales between 11 a.m. and 9 p.m. to the Historical Society.

Donna Britton, a Board Member of the Historical Society, says the organization currently leases the farmhouse on Sun Valley Farm from the Park District, and plans to eventually turn the house into a museum by bringing the structure up to code without sacrificing its style and charm as a farmhouse.

This is 22

Looking at my son’s face, it is easy for me to see him as he was when he was an infant, with silken hair kissed with just a touch of blonde. Or as a toddler, the way his cheeks would jiggle when he took halting, determined steps across the living room. I was there for all those little moments as he grew up: the birthday parties, the book reports, and the Band-Aids.

But that little toddler with the blonde hair is no longer around.

Date Night in the Glow of the Silver Screen

It was my favorite kind of date night. My Gentleman Friend asked me if I wanted to go out to see a movie, A Man Called Otto. It was Sunday night, which made going out feel a little rebellious. We were going to squeeze just a little bit more “us time” out of the weekend.

Plans for dinner beforehand were quickly abandoned, in favor of having popcorn for dinner. Popcorn and a beer, since our local movie house now sells cans of beer placed subtly on the side of the concessions area.

Delight is Everywhere, If You Look

My word of the year for 2022 was Delight. Instead of traditional New Year’s resolutions, I’ve tried to focus on one word to shape how I approach another year of life. So this year was about finding delight in the ordinary: being more spontaneous, tuning in to the world around me, searching for good things that might go unnoticed.

The subtext of this word, for me, instructed me on what I was not to do: I was not to let my anxiety take over moments that were otherwise beautiful.

Patrick Gorse: Gratitude in the Morning, Hope Every Day

HUNTLEY — It is an unseasonably warm day in late October when Patrick Gorse is waiting for his Christmas tree to be delivered. He stands outside, scanning the road for a delivery truck. “Some delivery guys are unsure about going down this road in front of the house,” he says.” I like to go out there and meet them.”

Patrick Gorse, 67, has good reason to look forward to Christmas this year. He is alive and comfortable living on a bucolic Huntley farm — a complete reversal from where he was in 2015: homeless at age 60 on the streets of Los Angeles, his life hanging in the balance because of decades of addiction.

This particular typewriter, an electric model, sat on a lower shelf at the local thrift store. I knew right away that I wouldn’t buy it; I’m a purist, more interested in manual typewriters. Still, this model was gorgeous, and I brushed my fingertips across its keys.

Pomp(adour) and Circumstance

It was just 30 minutes before we had to go to the high school for the graduation ceremony, and it suddenly got quiet in the house. I couldn’t imagine where everyone had gone. Just a few minutes before, my son was frantically asking, “Where’s my tie?” “Has anyone seen my tassel?”

Now? I heard nothing.

I noticed a soothing yellow shaft of light coming through the barely-open bathroom door in our dark hallway, and I approached with utmost caution: Mommy-ing 101 has taught me the important lesson that bathroom doors that are slightly ajar could spell trouble: I listened carefully for sounds of trouble, and by trouble, I mean vomiting.

Young author advocates for mental health of teens

HUNTLEY - Just as Hannah Soukup, 17, was rounding out her junior year of high school, she was putting the finishing touches on her first book.

As she heads into her senior year, she has her sights set on writing a sequel.

Soukup’s novella, To Be Consumed, tells a heartbreakingly tender story of Caleb, who falls in love with his smart and outspoken classmate, El. The couple’s relationship is riddled with complications from the start, first from the ever-shifting landscape of high school popularity, then later by mental illness and substance abuse.

Something’s Afoot

My right foot looks like an overstuffed sausage in my black flats. Yesterday, a faint, kiwi-green bruise was on the top of my foot, casting a shadow on the bulging portion of my foot, which in turn spilled over the edges of the shoe, reminiscent of a muffin top. Today, the bruise has migrated closer to my toes—concealed by my shoe, at least — but angry and purple.

Ugh. I was trying to help out my Gentleman Friend, who is a band teacher at our local high school.

Letting Go

There’s expectation in the air. It’s my daughter laying out different outfits on her bed, deciding on the perfect thing to wear to high school. It’s my husband, giving himself a smart haircut early in the morning before heading out to his teaching job. It’s the expanding stash of dorm room supplies growing in a corner, in anticipation of my son heading off to his freshman year at the university.

Even the dog has taken to sitting and staring at us, ears on high alert, playing some type of staring contest where only he knows the rules.

Yay-cation’s Top Five

Our annual family vacation took us more than 1,400 miles away to Utah: Our brand of vacation typically involves lots of driving, camping, and at least one National Park. This year, we visited Capitol Reef National Park and camped beneath a breathtaking view of a huge red cliff that took on ever-changing light and shadows from sunrise to sunset.

Even after being home for a couple days, I’m still feeling mellow and happy in my post-vacation glow. Here are my top five takeaways from vacation:

1.You’ve

Sock-timism

I consider it a good day when I remove an even number of socks from the dryer. I always put in an even number, that I know. With military-like precision, I unroll each and every sock from the hamper and verify its mate before throwing it in the wash. But somehow, by the end of the drying cycle, something’s gone awry. There’s usually one, lonely sock.

I keep the single socks. What else can an optimist do? Admittedly, I have looked up articles like, “37+ Unusual Uses for Lonely Socks,” but I just wasn’t really in need of a sock puppet or golf club covers or windshield wiper cozies.

This is Only Temporary

Every so often, I’ll have a week where it seems as if my coworkers hate me. Later that same week, my husband will start eyeing me in that way that convinces me he’s desperate to divorce me. My friends won’t call — a sure sign that they absolutely cannot stand me. And it isn’t just people turning against me — it’s dinner, scorched in the oven; the latch on the window that snaps off in my hand as I hurry to let the smoke from the oven escape.

Little is Cute, and Oh So Likable

Never have I been so reluctant to return a book to the library than Yossy Arefi’s Snacking Cakes: Simple Treats for Anytime Cravings. Most of the recipes are mixed in a single bowl, and use simple ingredients. I baked my way through that book, making the cute little cakes. I started with chocolate, then graduated onto oatmeal chocolate chip, lime-coconut, and finally plum-cardamom. Each cake reminded me of my time as an exchange student in Germany when I was in high school.

Each Morning Begins with a Ritual

Our ritual each morning is this: he pads barefooted to the kitchen. He is a fast waker-upper; I am not. Even though my eyes are still closed, I follow along by listening to the sounds he makes. I hear the shoosh of the water from the tap going into the tea kettle, and the click of him turning on the stove. He tends to favor the burner at the back of the stove to the right, while I am partial to the front burner on the left.

Sun City Resident Creates Sharemystories

SUN CITY - Sun City resident Jim Hanekamp has designed a new app called Sharemystories, focused on preserving memories using photos, written word, and audioclips in a timeline format.

Hanekamp, 66, grew up outside of Chicago in a large family. During the pandemic, the six adult siblings, separated by geography, enjoyed regular Zoom calls to reminisce about family vacations and forgotten family lore.

“I started thinking about the things we’ve done and realized, I haven’t really captured these things anywhere,” says Hanekamp.

Facing Another Summer as an Adult

Summer hasn’t even started, officially. But school is out, and as I’m writing this, my teen daughter is waking up on her first day of summer break. Her alarm clock went off at 6 a.m., a leftover relic of our automated life that cruises along during the school year. Instead of hitting snooze, she gets to hit “off.” In less than 24 hours, the clock has suddenly lost its authority.

I, on the other hand, lift my head groggily from my pillow as I always do, trying to formulate full sentences to communicate to someone my dire and immediate need for coffee.

Hope Takes Root

It was a gorgeous day at the garden center. A gentle breeze danced through the heavily perfumed air, playfully mixing and mingling with the sweet and savory scents of the flowers and herbs. The earthy scent of grass clippings and warm soil felt like a tender embrace, comfortable and calm.

The parking lot was nearly full, but as we navigated up and down the rows looking for an open space, the other drivers were surprisingly patient, politely waiting for each other.

Going Up? The Harrowing Ascent to the Yellow Brick Road

For a good five minutes, I was convinced I was going to have to listen to the Elton John concert while stuck in an elevator.

At, least, it felt like five minutes: the time it took for the elevator to arrive to take us up to our seats in the nosebleed section, where our seats were located at Ohio State University’s Schottenstein Center in Columbus, Ohio. We were there to see Elton John perform live for his Farewell Tour.

We were relieved, my friends and I, to see there was an elevator operator, who had an air of authority perched on a stool in front of the panel of elevator buttons.

‘Sentimental Journey’ takes you on a trip of a lifetime

The Theatre Company of Sun City’s will present Sentimental Journey, a musical about an entire lifetime and the milestones along the way in a production that is both humorous and heartwarming, featuring familiar songs and dances of days gone by.

The show is created by Rob Kaye, director, and Peter Davis, music producer.

Kaye and Davis created the show for luncheon and dinner theater in the mid-90s, when they worked as partners in a theater production company. At the time, Kaye says he drew on stories told by his grandparents, who remembered the day they brought home their first TV, which seemed enormous with its sixteen-inch screen; they also recounted the sight of military vehicles coming down neighborhood streets to deliver sad news to families of the enlisted during WWII.

There’s no entrance exam for parenthood

Before we had children, my husband and I decided to adopt a cat.

We were in our early 20s, starting our jobs that we hoped would turn into careers, living in a sunny one-bedroom apartment. We had to download forms off the internet, fill them out, and take them to an office where a woman looked at us sternly from across her desk. She asked us if we had a vet.

A vet? No, we don’t have a vet. We don’t even have a pet.

THE DOORWAY TO OUR COMMUNITY