Shootin' Spuds

Once again, for those of you who haven't heard this a million times, I am from the corn. And in the corn, we find ridiculous ways to spend our time. Throughout high school and college many of my peers made potato guns. Not for the faint of heart, this canon-like apparatus can chuck a tuber from one goal post to the other.

And, so my husband, brother-in-law and I were delighted when my father-in-law called and asked us to build one to share with the inner-city kids that were staying with the family as part of the Big Brothers, Big Sisters program this Memorial Day weekend.

For those of you who are inexperienced, here's the basic recipe: PVC pipe + gas grill igniter + hair spray. I prefer Aqua Net myself, but feel free to use the aerosol of your choice.

By the end of the evening we even had Grandma shootin' spuds. Most exciting, for the first time, someone offered to try to catch the potatoes. Those inner-city baseball players have some guts. (As well as potato-shaped bruises on their forearms.)

I image their welcome home conversation will go something like this:
Mother of inner-city youth: Did you have something to keep you from getting too bored in Central Illinois?
Inner-city youth: Yeah. They shot potatoes at our heads.


What's your favorite home-town tradition?

A blast from the.... current?!

After a serious hiatus, I'm back. I was kindly scolded by many of my favorite people for not keeping up my blog. So here we go....



My husband and I were recently invited to an 80's party to celebrate the birthday of a college friend. Though we had originally planned our exciting Friday tradition of watching a movie and eating too much pizza, we made a last minute decision to go for it!

Much to my husband's disappointment, this meant we needed to find 80's gear... and fast. It was 2 p.m. and the Madonna would be blaring from a jambox by 10. But, where to start? I was in the loop and, as one might imagine, there are not many vintage shops in the central business district of Chicago. To top it off, I had other things in mind... like enjoying my afternoon with a friend I see very little of and finding a pair of jeans that don't show my crack. (Can I get an "amen?")

Because good jeans always take priority, I resigned myself to some blue eyeshadow, and we headed off to the Magnificent Mile.

It's important at this point to say that both my friend and I found great jeans!

I learned a valuable lesson walking from one trendy store to the next... people are not learning valuable lessons. Hello, America! Wearing baby chew toys as earrings was never good. Leggings make the tiniest of us chunky. An off the shoulder sweater? Ok... maybe... but only because Flash Dance was kickin'!

And so my hubby and I donned the most fabulous collection of "new" clothes. We partied on to Duran Duran, Michael Jackson and Depeche Mode in true (2008) style.

But my point. The 80's are back. And still bad!


What do you think of the new/old trends? What's your favorite 80's memory? Come on... dish!

We are headed home as an old friend passed away unexpectedly this week. She was a character who new how to live life to the fullest. She will be missed by all.

Falling....

Each year, the arrival of fall marks my favorite time of year. I love the way the evenings cool, the air smells of crunchy leaves and pumpkins and mums line entrances.

The fall sweater. I don't know about anyone else, but I love sweaters. I love a good sweater and a pair of jeans. Every year, I treat myself to a "birthday sweater" to star the season off right.

Birthdays. Well, I can't very well put it out there and then not talk about it. Yes, that's right. My big day is the twenty-third of October. This year I will be... older. Though I rarely work this out, I love the possibility of sitting around a bonfire to celebrate a new year.

Croquenos. Croqua-whats? My paternal grandparents were fixtures in Metropolis, Illinois. Not only is this the official home of Superman. It is also home to Fort Massac. Every year, the town puts on a festival - The Encampment - with a reenactment. My grandmother, as president of the historical society, spent one weekend each fall dressed in a bonnet (or maybe that was me) making these DELICIOUS old english donuts in a giant cauldron over a real fire.

Apple festival. On my mother's side, my grandfather was often called "Mr. Apple Festival." For over 25 years he ran this local festival - complete with parade, beauty pageant, and drum and bugle corp contest. I spend my childhood receiving free caramel apples and siting in the judges stand. To this day, they still present the winning trophy in his name.

Holidays. The holidays are just around the corner. So it's a long, swooping corner... but never the less, you can almost smell the pumpkin pie and see the twinkling lights. This is the time of year when I get serious about the Christmas Shopping (I have been casually doing it for the last eight months, if you were wondering).

Burning leaves. Now this is a real travesty of living in a metropolitan area. I understand that it's not great for the environment to burn leaves. But, don't you remember, as a child.... I would spend hours racking and raking and then the pile would be big enough to leap into. Once your hair was speckled with brown, it was time to light the pile. The air would smell of ash for weeks.

I've fallen for Fall (and I hear it's coming for a visit starting tomorrow).

* Yes, that is me in the most awesome Rainbow Brite costume EVER!

Why do you love fall so much?
Don't love fall... then what's your favorite season and why?

In the dark

I have been in the dark many times in my life.

I spent an entire semester in college touting La Croix. Only to find out you don't pronounce it "lay crocks." Or, like the time I tried to book an international flight, only to find out the client was in Dublin, OHIO.

But for five days in the past week, I was living in the dark... literally... as in, without power... no lights... the dark.

After a serious blog absence, I thought I would treat you all to a recap of this adventure:

Night One.
This is interesting. Let me just grab those camping lanterns we purchased last weekend and some candles. There. We are a Joni Mitchell album away from a romantic evening. We can read and play with the cats and snuggle and go to bed early. Not so bad.

Next Morning.
Really? Still off? I need to take a quick shower to save the hubby some hot water. No hair dryer or curling iron this morning, and I guess I'll do my makeup on the stairs to get the sun from the skylight. I'm sure it will be back on when I get home tonight.

Night Two.
Oh... oh... oh... nope! I'm really getting sick of the flickering lights followed by the transformer blowing down the street. Just give up for the night and go home. I hope the rain stops soon. I love a good summer thunderstorm, but I can't shut the windows because the AC won't run. Everything near a window is officially wet!

Night Three.
We officially are in a stage of "brown out." That means they MacGyver'ed a generator to the power lines. It gives us just enough power to run dim lights. It's a lot like living in an old Western movie. Luckily, today we went into the office and downloaded some stories onto a laptop. I have a hot date with my husband tonight... we are going to huddle around a screen in the summer heat until the computer dies.

Day Four.
What is that smell?! Oh dear lord, is that coming from the... crap! (Note to readers: a dear friend recently married a cattle farmer. To thank us for our wedding-day help, she thoughtfully gave us 15 pounds of now warm, oozing, rancid cow.) Get the contractor bags, it's time to clean out the fridge.

Day Five.
We just called the home phone and the answering machine picked up. Oh, I am so excited, I just can't decide how to celebrate first tonight... Laundry, dishwasher, vacuum? groceries?

I know the weather is great and the storms have passed... but share your weather woes !

Elliott Print

stationery (stā'shə-něr'ē)
noun
paper cut to an appropriate size for writing letters; usually with matching envelopes

My small, custom stationery company, Elliott Print, is currently undergoing a face-lift. My first order of business is to put together a new catalog of stationery that makes people say, "I need that."

I am using this blog to test market some of the new designs. Please click on the above banner to launch a pdf of the catalog. (Sorry if it takes a few moments to load.) Once you have perused to your hearts content, please post your comments!

Why do you buy stationery?
What do you wish is included, but isn't?
What can you not live without?

Post a response and you will get 25% off you first (next) stationery order. Provide a link to my blog and/or the catalog and you will get 50% off your order.

If you do decide to promote on your site, please pop me a quick e-mail at
ann.elliott@elliottprint.com so that I know who to reward!

Thank you all in advance for your support!

ENJOY!

living life

(No picture today, there's no time to find one.)

There are so many thing I want to share with all of you... my paper sale adventures, my tomatoes, my endless search for creativity, my take on the Harry Potter craze...

But, alas, it is not meant to be. "Why?" you ask. That, my dear friends, is the topic of today's conversation (and I do think of it as a conversation, not a rant).

What happened to life?

Is this is? Am I living it?

I vaguely remember something about balance and family and hobbies. I have fond memories of dinner before 8:30. There were board games and frisbee and books somewhere.

Not now. It's over. I am not sure if this is a product of my upbringing or my life stage or my location or all of the above. But, I do know that I don't have any time for ME. I also know that I'm not the only one.

In the Chicago loop, people are rewarded for giving themselves up. You are promoted faster if you work late and your bonus is more if you put in 60 hour weeks (60 hours, by the way, is pretty average).

But, I want to know why! Why do I feel guilty if I get on the 5 p.m. train if I was in the office by 7:40 and I ate lunch at my desk? Why does my firm say, "it is fine to telecommute a day or two a week," if when I decide to work hours 46-52 from my dining room people roll their eyes.

One of the things I miss most about my home town is that people seems to slow down every once in a while. Or, maybe it is that you have to cram less life in.

Let's observe. This morning, I had to leave early to go by the ATM, so that I could get to the train station early, so that I could refill my parking card, so that I could take the 40 minute train ride into the loop, so that I could wait in line at Starbucks for 6.45 minutes, so I could walk to my building where I go through security to take the elevator up 25 floors, to go through security again, to change out of my shoes into my other shoes, and take my laptop out of the secure cabinet, and.... sit. I am tired just thinking about it. (And, did I mention it is a 30-40 minute round trip to Target?!)

By comparison, it took me 2 minutes to drive to high school. 2 minutes!

But, I digress...

How do we change our circumstance? I am honestly asking you. Is there a magical place where your commute is 10 minutes and your evenings begin at 5? (No, really begin.)