MY SUN DAY NEWS
September 24, 2020
All things considered, it’s not really all that hard to obey the Ten Commandments, is it? Oh, sure, we all waffle a bit when it comes to coveting, but most of us manage to steer clear of outright murder and theft, and we’re pretty fond of Mom and Dad. But then there’s that pesky Commandment Number Two, the one ordering us to “make no graven images.” Are selfies covered under that rule?
All things considered, it’s not really all that hard to obey the Ten Commandments, is it? Oh, sure, we all waffle a bit when it comes to coveting, but most of us manage to steer clear of outright murder and theft, and we’re pretty fond of Mom and Dad.
But then there’s that pesky Commandment Number Two, the one ordering us to “make no graven images.”
Are selfies covered under that rule?
The season of fall is synonymous with a gorgeous array of various shades of red on a myriad of shrubs and trees. The sight of stately trees in all of their glory at the end of a beautiful summer is what many of us look forward to all year. Often overlooked though are the dozens of perennial flowers that offer up their beautiful blooms as we approach months of cold, ice and snow. It seems as if for these flowers it is their final performance of the season. It’s a performance you don’t want to miss.
On September 5 you may have noticed signs all around Huntley saying, “Tune Radio to 101.5 FM For Fireworks”. Don’t worry, this did not mean your radio would have exploded if you tuned in. Huntley Community Radio had a live broadcast during the village fireworks display, and someone had to put up all those signs.
As this month began, the promise of movie theaters reopening has given us some pause. How will things change in this new world we find ourselves? What safety measures have the staff put in place to make for a comfortable experience? The studios have held back a great deal of their slate until later in 2020 or even next year. With “Tenet” the only major release that seems worth it (and I may still review it later), the resounding feeling of disinterest may have you feeling the small screen to be the better choice. Luckily, we don’t need to give up big budget storytelling in the exchange.
My wife and I are in our late 50s and retirement is on our minds. We do plan to continue to work for a few more years, but we’re nearing the next season of our lives. We have three children, one in high school, two in college. We feel that they are adequately set for their futures, now we want to focus on us.
One clear night this summer in mid-July, I stood out among the corn fields at the western dead-end of Ernesti Road and finally knew what it must have felt like to live during the Middle Ages. For the record, I have always felt a touch of envy for those long-ago folks because medieval art is filled with paintings showing blazing comets in the sky, and I have always wanted to see a comet blazing across the sky above me.
One clear night this summer in mid-July, I stood out among the corn fields at the western dead-end of Ernesti Road and finally knew what it must have felt like to live during the Middle Ages.
For the record, I have always felt a touch of envy for those long-ago folks because medieval art is filled with paintings showing blazing comets in the sky, and I have always wanted to see a comet blazing across the sky above me.
Nancy and I have become desperate for entertainment during this Covid-19 crisis. Nancy is convinced she is qualified to be a doctor after watching “Untold Stories of the ER” on TV, and she actually is becoming good at diagnosing the cases. Our Saturday night entertainment is now the Three Stooges followed by Svengoolie. We have also learned from the grandchildren the importance of checking FaceBook constantly. This turned out to be true when we read in the Wildflower Lake neighbors group about a new restaurant called Syrup in Algonquin.
My daughter, Mary, came over on Sunday. Due to social distancing we were hosting her and her boyfriend, Stephen, on our deck. As she was sitting down, she looked into our backyard and asked “What happened to the lawn?” It looked like we had purposefully tried to create ugly brown stripes and circles in our lawn by spraying herbicide. It wasn’t us, but a climatological condition that is causing the lawn to go dormant. The lack of rain had resulted in dry brown grass in stripes over our septic lines and a big brown circle over our septic tank.
My daughter, Mary, came over on Sunday. Due to social distancing we were hosting her and her boyfriend, Stephen, on our deck. As she was sitting down, she looked into our backyard and asked “What happened to the lawn?” It looked like we had purposefully tried to create ugly brown stripes and circles in our lawn by spraying herbicide.
It wasn’t us, but a climatological condition that is causing the lawn to go dormant. The lack of rain had resulted in dry brown grass in stripes over our septic lines and a big brown circle over our septic tank.
As the summer is coming to a close, a new crop of fresh films is out there for your perusal. But with the world as it is, the multiplex may seem like a wary place to enter still. So now as “Tenet” and “Death On The Nile” make their way onto the silver screen, maybe you still want to stay home. But don’t worry, the home theater has you covered.
Within the last few years, I’ve noticed that my fingers aren’t working as they used to. I’m in my 80s and have always enjoyed crafting. Since I can remember, I’ve held knitting needles in my hands, creating scarves, blankets, sweaters, and more, for friends and family. I’ve since put my knitting aside, however, I recently learned that I’ll have a great-grandchild early next year.
Colors often evoke emotion. I always smile when I see a yellow flower. They remind me of the big yellow happy faces that were seemed so prevalent during my childhood in the 70s. Flowers also have the ability to evoke a variety of emotions. One look at a Queen Anne’s lace flower immediately brings me back to my grandmother’s farm in Union. It was a very peaceful place. Colorful flowers can be a powerful combination.
My elderly mother has had a recent fall. She fell in the middle of the night, trying to find her way to the bathroom. While she’s doing fine now, it’s evident that we need to make some changes to her bathroom to prevent future falls.
Last month I completed 10 years of answering reader questions and writing the Ask the Woodchucks articles for the Sun Day. That amounts to 238 articles.
On Independence Day this year, this is the speech I wish we had heard.
You may grow weary of wearing a mask, staying at least six feet apart socially, washing your hands often, and using disinfectant on surfaces to minimize the chances of coming in contact with COVID-19. While health departments and Governor J.B. Pritzker ask for vigilance in your efforts to reduce the spread of coronavirus, another virus is only a few months away from entering the picture.
Imagine if you will, a world where any dealings with strangers is done through a sheet of plexiglass; where toilet paper can mysteriously disappear from all store shelves overnight; and where wearing a mask going into a bank will not get you arrested. Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to enter the “Covid Zone.”
I measure my level of domesticity by the very high bar set by my grandmother. As I head off to bed with two sinks full of dirty dishes, I silently say ‘Grandma would have never done this.’ When I hire someone to wash our windows, and I don’t take the time to wash every set of curtains while he is washing the windows, I feel like I am missing the mark.
The caulking around our shower has black mold that we can no longer remove. What can we do to eliminate this mold?
As we continue to watch southern states see a rise in COVID cases, I’m concerned about what our area will look like this fall.
Fifty years ago, when I was a graduate student at Wake Forest University in Winston Salem, North Carolina, I lived in a cheap row-house apartment built during the Depression. My next-door neighbor was Mike Coe, a young, self-proclaimed redneck.
The Dining Duo is overjoyed now that the restaurants have opened up. There are several reasons for this celebration. First, we get to dine out once again. Second, we don’t have to wrack our brains and to come up with some stupid subject for our column. Last, but not least, when we stay at home, we usually dream up some crazy plan and Nancy winds up in a cast or some sort of body brace.
Truth being stranger than fiction: that is a widely-known axiom. No author could certainly scribe a novel as weird and wild as the times we are in now. This is why we enjoy historical films and documentaries as part of our cultural diet. Features such as “Dunkirk” and “Titanic” enthrall us even if you know the outcomes.
The one Sun City home device that we have gotten the most questions about is the flasher switch that flashes the outdoor lights to help fire and ambulance personnel find your house when you call them. That was 1990s technology.
As with most of our lives over the past 4 months, my son’s life has taken on a very narrow scope. As a freshman at Middle Tennessee State University, his life used to include get- togethers with friends, professors lecturing in classrooms, strolls around a gorgeous campus, Sunday morning church services and trips to Nashville.
My mother is scheduled to have her hip replaced in a few weeks, after suffering from chronic pain for many years. Her surgery has been postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic and she can hardly wait to be relieved of her chronic pain. She’s in her mid-70s, and her care team seems hopeful for a quick recovery.
John Prine was a childhood neighbor of mine, though I don’t think I ever met him directly. He was a year and a half older than me, and we grew up just a bike ride apart — I in Elmwood Park, and he in Maywood, no more than five miles away. His dad was a tool-and-dye maker, shaping the steel that my dad produced in his steel mill job.
John Prine was a childhood neighbor of mine, though I don’t think I ever met him directly.
He was a year and a half older than me, and we grew up just a bike ride apart — I in Elmwood Park, and he in Maywood, no more than five miles away. His dad was a tool-and-dye maker, shaping the steel that my dad produced in his steel mill job.
The “Shelter in Place” order seems like has been going on forever and the Dining Duo is getting bored. While standing outside hoping to see other signs of life, our friend John goes zooming past on his bike. He stopped to talk, and we told him we would like to ride our bikes but it was too much work.
At this point last year, the weather was calm and we were enjoying all the season had to offer. It was also the height of the summer movie season. All this feels like a distant memory however. The loss of the cinema, that communal experience, has given us questions as to how can we move forward culturally?
May (when this story was researched and written) was Mental Health Awareness Month. For this part of the story Sun Day has turned to Scott Block, executive director of the McHenry County Mental Health Board, Jane Farmer, executive director of Turning Point, Phyllis Seyler, program manager of NAMI-McHenry County, and Dr. Melissa Katz, clinical director of Samaritan Counseling Center of the Northwest Suburbs.
We have all responded to the pandemic in different ways. For some, that response means sheltering in place while other members of our family bring us the essentials. For others, it means learning new ways of doing daily or weekly tasks; ordering food and communicating with others through cell phones, tablets and computers. For many, work now begins with a walk to the kitchen table instead of a 45 minute commute. My family’s response included an afternoon spent planting vegetable and herb seeds in containers with daily updates during dinner about their progress.
