Healthwatch

In England people are proud if they never have to see a doctor. In the U.S it's the other way round. Here people are encouraged to go even if they are well! Of course sitting in a doctor's office is a lot more pleasant when you're not throwing up or sneezing, just a bit scary for us Brits (by which I mean, me, the neurotic).
Having spent four years successfully avoiding a 'primary care physician', yesterday we succumbed. I'm still not ill, but after trying to navigate the medical system when Grumpy was hospitalized, I see they play a different role here.
Grumpy and I went along together for our first joint appointment. Being polite I didn't want to bother the doctor with any of my own minor ailments, but I just wanted to make sure he knew exactly what I had to put up with from my other half.
The office was small, with a desk, computer, magazines, chair and a photocopier with a padded top. Turned out this was an examination bed, although I swear there was space for A4 paper in a draw beneath it.
The doctor politely began by telling us we were obese - hardly an ice-breaker if he ever expected to see me ever again.
"Do you exercise?" he began.
"Do I look like I exercise?" I replied, offended before realizing this might not be the answer he was looking for.
Eventually he concurred I was actually quite healthy for someone my age (back handed compliment if ever I heard one), but then again I haven't been through the dreaded slew of tests yet......

A Taste of the Taste

After three years, we decided this year it was time to pay another visit to the Taste of Chicago.

You need a big vehicle to deliver Chicago sized portions.

Still recovering from sciatica, Grumpy decided he could use another leg.

But afterwards he was so thirsty he needed a fountain drink.

Just the one for me.

"Hey, didn't we used to be big in Chicago?"

You know the economy's bad when this is the office of the Secretary of State....

Afterwards, a little game of chess with some of my Czech mates....

Voluncheers

Let’s raise our glasses to the party elite of Naperville!
You know who we are. We’re the beautiful people who put
the fun into fundraisers. You can find us on any given
evening in a local bar or hotel bobbing about on a sea
of chat and laughter. The only thing louder than our voices
as we struggle to be heard above the breaking waves is the
sound of us patting our carefully manicured hands across our
own backs.
Not part of the inner circle? Don’t worry. You can find us among
the pages of local magazines, or the fan pages of Facebook.
You’ll see the same people popping up every time. Of course
‘in this economy’ that we refer to with some gravitas, it’s
not politically correct to enjoy yourself too much. Even in
Naperville hundreds of our neighbors are out of work or worse
out of food. So what do we do? We use the parties as an excuse
to give back to them. Hangovers with a cause! Sure we may
suffer a little the next morning, but that’s as good as wearing
a designer gown made of sack cloth and ashes.
Manicured nails may be all well and good, but it stops you
getting your hands dirty. Instead of raising money for people,
why not raise hope?
There are possibly as many people working on the coal face as
those dancing above it in the moonlight. There are Naperville
residents who volunteer overseas, build solar ovens and schools
in third world countries and houses right here in Aurora.
There are countless volunteers who work tirelessly at events,
behind the scenes and in front of the shelves at the food
pantry.
Are they the local celebrities of the Naperville scene? Not
necessarily. They go about their business, feeling just as
good as everyone else about the good works they do, but just
a little less publically.
I have a foot in a both camps. My heeled foot maybe a little
sore, but it loves taking me to some of these glittering events.
I’m definitely a party animal, although as I get older possibly
more of a comfortable old kitty than a cougar. My sneakered foot
helps out at other times, but I won’t say where because that’s
not why I do it.
So we have two camps when it comes to volunteering, those who
like to be seen and those who don’t. But if there is one thing
I have learned it’s this. Partying or plowing is equally fine.
The one thing that isn’t is doing nothing at all.

Tornado Alley Dog

I'm writing this from my basement during a tornado warning. Grumpy's out, so I'm home alone with my guard dog, who is sniffing around just to make sure no gusts of wind can sneak in through the floor boards.
I can hear thunder rumbling in the not to distant distance. The sirens went off a few minutes ago, just enough time for me to decide what to take down into the basement with me.
I decided on three essentials only. My laptop, my phone and my six month old puppy.
She's delighted to have found a ball to play with, but is displaying obvious concern as to why I feel the need to blog about it.
It's times like this that I wish we had a more luxurious basement. If the house is in danger, surely it would be better to have a more basic upstairs and leave the good stuff for down below? But then again what we do in the event of a flood?
My journalistic head makes me wonder if I should actually be knocking on neighbors' doors asking for quotes. These tornadoes are very random. They can get one house and miss another, so not sure which neighbor to talk to anyway.
I'm also concerned as to how I would know the warning is over. I have no TV down here, and anyhow what would happen if the electricity went out? Supposing I fell asleep and missed the all clear siren? I could be down here for weeks until either Grumpy finally missed me or the cleaning ladies called.
Getting a little noisier now. Why am sitting in a miserable basement when I could be upstairs taking photos? I did cover a library board meeting earlier this evening, but somehow this is a little more exciting.
I'm hallucinating that Daisy is Toto and she's going to fly off in one of the baskets littering the basement shelves.
What would eat if I were stranded here? A few bottles of three year old Guiness or a Mike's Hard Lemonade? At least I won't die of thirst. Or boredom. I've a pool table and some bowling games. There's darts too, plus enough flatware for two dozen people should they need to take shelter.
It's really creepy down here. I can hear more rumbling and what about the mice? Not pet ones heaven forbid, but the ones that avoid the traps at all cost. Supposing one of them jumped out at me? In fact I can hear a scratching now...oh hang on, it's just Daisy chewing up the carpet, great.
They say a tornado sounds like a train rushing past. I lived by a station for years in England..wonder if the trains sounded like a tornado?

Reasons Why I Haven't Blogged - Again!

1. I've had to act as nursemaid as Grumpy is recovering from the acute sciatica that put him in hospital for two weeks. I don't know why they call it cute - it wasn't at all.
2. Abi has been visiting for a month, which meant when I wasn't at the hospital I was in a store somewhere. (Can't lose sight of the important things in life, whatever's happening).
3. Daisy has been spayed. Fortunately this hasn't led directly to menopaws, but it does mean she can't vacuum for six weeks so I've had to do it myself.