10 Things You Need Right Now

Magazines love lists:
115 ways to get organized.
10 things that will drive your man wild (they're not talking about not flushing the toilet.)
One-day Decorating: 15 pretty projects.
25 Easy recipes.
10 ways to teach your child manners.
And other such nonsense.

Someone at work found this handy list. We do occasionally need fashion advice now that the daughters aren't around to approve outfits prior to leaving the house. Ten things seems simple and easy, so let's check it out.
1. Black / gold handbags. OK, why not. We'll try one. We prefer silver, but black is basic. How can you go wrong.
2. Red shoes. Looks like a 4" heel. Not with these bunions.
3. Belts. Seem harmless enough. Besides the pants are getting a little baggy.
4. Tunics. Fat chance. Only work if you're 6' tall with slim hips like a Spanish waiter.
5. White shirts. Now we're talking. Reminds me of my 12 years of uniform wearing in parochial school.
6. Narrow pants. Look like high-water narrow pants. Um. No. Too much emphasis on the large feet.
7. Dresses. How can you be against a dress. And a cute little shift dress at that. We'll take one. What the hell, make it two.
8. Bold gold necklaces. Sorry. Cleopatra we are not, even though Rome is the hottest show on HBO.
9. Black leggings. Only if dressing like Audrey Hepburn in the beatnik scene from Funny Face.
10. Boots and booties. Leather and crocheted foot warmers. How quaint. Love the boots, but your dogs would be barking after running at work all day in high heels.

4 for 10. Not so good. Here's what the hell we really need. Right now.
1. Sleep. For starters we'll settle for a good nights sleep.
2. Comfortable, yet stylish, shoes. . . . that don't pinch, cause blisters, corns or other ailments of the foot and don't like like they were designed by an orthopedic surgeon.
3. Jeans. A pair that fits without revealing my bum crack and back fat and tummy bulge. But not riding squarely at the waist, either.
4. Perfect underware. Somewhere between Granny Panties and a thong that won't survive one maching-washing is the perfect pair of undies. Mostly cotton with a hint of spandex. Minimal UPL (Unsightly Panty Lines). No wedgies. If you find them, please buy me 10 pair.
5. A really cool uniform designed by say, Prada or Chanel, so dressing for work is easy.
6. Abs of steel, not jell-o.
7. The perfect every-day purse. Important that it is NOT a big black hole where everything falls to the bottom. Enough inside pockets to stash cell phone, small notebook, wallet, car keys, Maybe a paperback or magazine if you ride the bus. A banana.
8. A magic wand. That works.
9. A decent bra. Why must you try on 50 just to find 1 that fits? Smooth cups. Support without a flying buttress attached. Underwire but no poking. And a strap that doesn't make grooves in your shoulder.
10. One classy "dress up" outfit. One. Just one outfit, because we rarely dress up anymore. Something that is not also made in Junior and Girls' sizes. Nothing trendy with handkerchief hemline or lingerie-style bodice. What the hell happened to the LBD (little black dress).
That's what we need. Right now.

Now soliciting: your top 10 places to find your top 10 things.

Currently enjoying: lemonade
On the Agenda: washing the car followed by Holiday-weekend relaxing.

A Certain Morning

"Certain mornings, on turning a corner, a delightful dew falls on the heart and then evaporates. But its coolness remains, and this is what the heart requires always." Albert Camus

There's something absolutely delicious about waking up early, really early, on a Sunday morning. No alarm. Just the birds calling, the occasional car, the soft whir of the ceiling fan. Weird little insect sounds. Curtains rustling gently. The foot falls and random bits of conversation of people out for a run. The coffee smell is tempting, but there is no rush to get up. Not at all. The Husband's up and out the door for a crack of dawn tee time. To simply lie in bed with a couple of cats curled up at one's feet, and know that you can get up or not get up. Go ahead. Lie there and let your mind drift in and out of sleep. Bask in the lovely early morning light. That is the very essence of a summer morning.

(Some would insist on adding Northwoods’ sounds, or lake sounds, to their ideal morning but not here. We're city folk here in MadgeWorld.)

Today is wide open. What to do? What to do? Something. Or maybe even nothing. Your ideal morning? Tell us about it. Inquiring minds want to know.

Enjoying: French Roast and whole wheat toast with peanut butter.
Current sounds: Airplane. Cicadas. Crows. Church bells. Neighbor’s annoying barking dog.

The Domino Theory

One thing leads to another. That's for sure. In street work and in housework.
- April -- sink hole the size of a Volkswagen appears in Humboldt Avenue. Sink holes are even better than "speed bumps" in slowing down traffic.
- Several boulevards and sidewalks begin slowly sinking.
- May -- Entire street from 53rd to 54th blocked off.
- A nice letter from the City Engineer tells us that a 70 year-old sewer/water pipe needs replacing. Such is life in the city.
- The construction trailer, a Biff and piles of machinery become fixtures on the block.

















- Many city employees and lots of pieces of machinery start work. Every morning at 7 am. By the time I leave for the bus around 8 am they're having a coffee break in their trailer on the corner.
- 26 foot pit is dug.
- Not deep enough. Need the Army Corps. of Engineers to assist in going down 20 MORE FEET! That's about the depth of a 3-story building.
- As long as they're disrupting life, they decide to replace the gas lines to each house.
- Boulevards are dug up.
- Sidewalks are torn out.
- Yellow, blue and red spray paint guidelines randomly appear on the hacked up lawn and sidewalk. What's next?
- Maintenance of the front yard is abandoned. Who cares, the only traffic is parents bringing their 4-year olds to see the big diggers up close and personal.






- Mid-July -- one of the neighbors starts a lottery to guess when the work will be completed.
- August -- rumor has it that a second hole is needed. Workers are invited to Block Party.



MadgeWorld residents were terribly annoyed by all the disruptions -- no parking, no water (no toilet flushing!), caterpillar tracks all over the front lawn -- and the unpredictability of it all. That is, until we tackled some maintenance work of our own on the inside.
The task at hand: tidy up the living room since we can't work in the yard. A whole lot simpler than digging a 26-foot hole.
Or is it? We're into week three and still not done.
Week One
- Start by tidying up the coffee table -- put away silver tray and glass candlesticks UNTIL NEXT CHRISTMAS!
- That requires removing candle nubbins, washing dusty candlesticks, removing tarnish from tray (where's the polish?).
- Which leads to rummaging in kitchen cupboards.
- Therein OUTDATED foodstuff is discovered. This serves as diversion from cleaning candlesticks.
- Approximately 40 pounds of food which had passed its freshness date -- some by more than 5 years -- was carried to the trash. Did you know that JELL-O CAN GO BAD! It can. Be careful. (Jell-o gone bad. . . think of the possibilities.)
Week Two
- Freshly washed candlesticks ready to be put away. This means making room on the linen closet shelf--which is full of other candlesticks and vases, shelves of towels, miscellaneous baskets of first-aid supplies and giant cat-hair dustballs.
- More OUTDATED product discovered--from Benadryl to Correctol to Xanex. If you've got a cold or can't poop, don't come looking for any help here.
- Out it goes, along with the gallon of white vinegar (why?) and a small space heater.




- The tidying binge is disrupted by a trip to Northfield to a moving sale. Lorelei's mother is moving after 25 years. We ended up with an old rug and dresser (pictured, left). Both of which NEED WORK to be usable.
Week Three
- We take the new-old rug to Keljik's for deep cleaning. Why not take the rug from the living room, too?
- Roll up rug and throw out disentegrating pad which leaves a cloud of fine dust.




- The quick trip to drop off the rug (just 10 blocks away) takes two hours. Keljik's Rugs is an old-school family business. The kind of place that you just don't rush in and out of. The kind of place where the old guys know their stuff and are happy to share the knowledge.
"Is that cotton or wool?" (Talking about Lorelei's rug.)
Pause. Old guy bends down to touch rug.
"Cotton. Italian made. World War Two vintage. All the wool went to uniforms."
The living room rug is pronounced a "Sarouk. From Iran."
After we check out the prices on their Sarouks (from 8K to 15K) we check out the new My-T-Fine (43rd and Bryant) for lunch.
- Once the rug is gone it seems like the ideal time to rearrange furniture. Introduce a little feng shui into the house. Which means things will migrate from room to room.

Maybe by the time the water line is fixed, and the hole is filled in and the boulevards and lawns are repaired, those those candlesticks will be put away.

Enjoying: Iced Coffee
Listening to: "Summer Wind" Frank Sinatra

Everyday magic.

What's not to love about New York City. More specifically, Astoria, Queens. You can get anything for less than a dollar. We did visit this store and can vouch for the fact that magic is, indeed, available for just pennies. Sometimes it's in the form of a plastic thingy that keeps hair from going down your drain. Or a big pan to cook noodles in. The kind of pan that will go PING. And develop a warped bottom if the gas is too hot. But, the price. Magic.

Sometimes the magic is in the details. A day like today when everything seems to go your way. All the traffic lights turn green and you sail to your destination. You get a Princess Parking spot just steps from the door. Your sales clerk rings up your purchase and says, "Oh, there's been an additional markdown!" A trip to Target and you no longer have to visit the school supply department.



A weekend with absolutely no social obligations. You do as you please. Read the paper in your p.js. Water the damaged lawn. The weather's perfect. The end of day sun is golden. Ripe. But, best of all are August nights. The most magical of the entire summer. Warm days, but perfect, breezy nights. No air-conditioning needed. You sleep with the windows wide open and the sound of crickets fills the air. A sure sign that we are sliding gently towards Fall. Oh, so reminiscent of the sweet childhood on Pillsbury Avenue. Sleeping on the front porch. Enjoying those last days of freedom before heading back to school.

Listening to: Moondance, Van Morrison