Finally settled in “back home”…

Well, we have made it back to Chicagoland and are living in a teeny tiny apartment that is small but cute. I find myself missing Spain more than I thought I would. The picture in the header at the top of my blog was my view out of my window there (and the picture at the top of this post was a door in a monestary in Catalunya), and I’m leaving it so I can daydream back whenever I want to. The odd thing is, for 15 or 16 years I still called Chicago home and was hoping to come back, but now that I am here I miss Barcelona much more than I thought.

As a fun summer adventure, prompted by the TV show “Chicago’s Best” which featured a show about the best tacos in Chicago, my husband and I started a quest… a taco safari if you will, for our take on the best taco in Chicago.  Our goal is to try a new location in the Chicago area every week.  Last week we started with Taqueria el Asadero at 2213 W. Montrose.  It had been featured in Chicago Magazine’s Tale of the Taco and when I mapped it it seemed to be not too far away.  We found it fairly easily and after hitting a local ATM (they only accept cash), we headed inside.  This place is totally a local joint and very unpretentious.

We tried the Steak Taco, $2.05 plus .40 for added cheese, sour cream, or avocado.  I also tried the guacamole and chips and the pico de gallo.  The chips and guacamole came first with a good sized bowl of pico de gallo (why the heck do they call it that? I asked at the counter but they didn’t know… apparently, it translated to beak of the rooster, the girl said she would ask her grandmother about the name).  The chips are made right there, a tad on the greasy side, but good.  The guacamole was wonderful, super fresh.  But I think our favorite was the pico de gallo, simple but bursting with flavor, and heat that increased as you got to the bottom of the bowl where the juices all collected.  Their salsa was a salsa verde which isn’t my favorite, but the pico made up for it. Then came the tacos.  Two fresh, soft tortillas held my added sour cream, the steak (the star of the show), onions, cilantro, and cheese.  I topped it off with some pico and it was fabulous. We each ordered seconds but I opted for no cheese, I had a little left from the first one, and I didn’t want anything to overpower the flavor of that steak. Needless to say, it got two thumbs up from both of us. This one was a hit, I’m looking forward to trying our next place!

Moonbath

Moonbath

The moonlight pours down
blanketing the earth with its magic, white light
Everything is still
The hush of thousands of dreamers fills the night
The clarity of the moment is palpable
Giant trees form majestic shadows while holding court in the night
My laundry makes its presence felt in the moonlight
court jester ghosts adding punctuation to this ethereal scene
A tiny bat dips down and cuts a quick swatch through the sky
in search of unseen prey
I sit transfixed with my love and soak up the beauty
The moon trembles and begins to rock gently back and forth
he doesn’t see it, but I do… a huge pendulum moving ever so slightly
counting the moments, slower than usual, but such is the magic of this night
We head inside to join the others in the hush of dreams

Inquiring minds want to know…

Remember when we were little and the world was full of mysteries?  We wanted to know where and when and how and what. Then somewhere along the line, I think it must be about the time we become teenagers, we realize we have all the answers.  After that, we head to college, get jobs, get married, have families (some of us that is, and not necessarily in that order) and are too busy to ask questions. I recently had the priviledge of watching a young inquiring mind in action and am so grateful for his creative, inspiring, and quirky sense of wonder.

We had friends here from the State a couple of weeks ago -  David and Katy and their two adorable offspring, Henry and Julia. We all packed so much fun into two glorious weeks spread over Spain, Italy and a tiny bit of France.  Henry is four years old and is just chock full of wonderful questions.  I was thinking about one of his questions today and once again appreciated the sheer brilliance of it.  As we were driving down the road, Henry asked, “Are buildings crops?” I chuckled to myself and his mother said “No, no they aren’t.”  And, here is where the real brilliance comes in, Henry asked, “Why not?” She went on to explain why not and I marvelled at her ability to answer all of these questions so thoroughly.

The more I think about it,  the more I am fully able to appreciate the simple and profound wisdom of that “why not?”.  Why not indeed Henry, my friend.  I mean buildings appear to grow out of the ground, and things do blossom and grow inside of them, whether it is ideas, children, automobiles, money, lots of things grow where buildings are planted.  And then you can take the definition of “crop” from Dictionary.com “a collection or group of persons or things appearing or occurring together,” hey that sounds like buildings to me even looking at it from a literal standpoint.

Oh Henry, thank you so much for your wonderful questions… keep em coming! I hope you never, ever lose that inquiring sense of fascination. Maybe we should all look deeper into things and ask “why” or “why not” and like Henry, keep asking until we get an answer.

Unrealistic expectations…

A couple of months ago, I was quite inspired by what I had seen others writing.  At the time, I set myself up with an unrealistic expectation that I could somehow just ride that wave of others’  inspiration to my own self exploration.  But somehow, as I wrote what I wanted to do, it made me feel like I had to write some grand truth.  And then that expectation was just out there, making me feel like I had to do something about it and yet not inspiring me at all because I felt like it had to be something spectacular.  As I came into the blog today, determined just to write something, I saw again a comment of encouragement from a nice reader and read a comment from a wise cousin telling me that if I love to write, I should just write.  And that is what I am doing this blog for anyway… to have some fun and encourage myself to do some writing, now that attitude is a lot more inspiring, n’est pas?

Please don’t give up on me…

I used to love to write… somewhere along the lines, the world without has obscured the world within so that I feel like I’ve lost my voice.  Where is that little girl with soul searching in her heart?  I heard people speak today that were so in touch with themselves, their voice rang so true that their pain, laughter, and sorrow was mine and I cried and laughed along with everyone listening.  This can only happen when people are really speaking from that place that is inside where their authentic self resides.  Is mine still there, waiting to be let out, waiting to be heard?

Perhaps, even as I type this I sense a whisper, barely audible.  Yes, I am here, I am you, Listen…

So, over or perhaps beneath the sounds of techno static that invades my life – the blaring tv, street noises outside, my ipod, cell phones and all manner of things that try to make themselves important, that little girl is still there, just waiting for me to come home.

I don’t really know how to find you, but I promise to try, please don’t give up on me.