Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
This morning it finally clicked what this time of year reminds me of: A lunchtime lingerie show at a tavern on Irving Park Road.
The rain and winds of the last week or so have stripped most trees of their leaves.
Don't ask me why, but this morning it made me think of those lingerie shows that a supplier used to take me to once a year or so on a tavern on Irving Park.
In those days, those lunchtime lingerie shows were a tradition in Chicago.
I was in my late 20s or so and was running a cleaning company for a psychiatric rehab agency as a jobs opportunity. It was a challenging but fulfilling job.
But I could have lived without those yearly lunches. Don't think for a second this had anything with Victoria's Secret models parading down a runway.
An ordinary neighborhood woman in a threadbare teddy parading past your table as you try to hack off a piece of skirt steak isn't appealing unless you have a perverse bent. Most looked like they were single moms simply trying to keep their kids in clothes and lunch money.
It was not sexy at all, just depressing.
Much like this time of the year.
Not much for wildlife, even though I waited until the sun was coming up.
Far different morning that yesterday when it felt like summer with temperatures in the mid-60s. In the 30s this morning.
I thought there might be Canada geese on the north old clay pit because of the winds and clear skies, but I didn't see any.
Then as we getting ready to hike the old rail bed, a pair of geese came in low and all of a sudden several geese began calling and pulled them down. The geese must have been pulled up so tight to the far bank that I never saw them.
A muskrat swam in one bay. Rather brazenly, it stayed on top as the meathead and I milled around.
Back in town, the meathead chased four gray squirrels up trees. One made the mistake of going up a small red maple and sat on a branch about seven feet off the ground. Storm contemplated a jump. I thought he might try it, but then he moved on.
We all move on.