Country Mice in the City

Tomorrow I embark on a journey to the city. Chicago! Named for a wild onion, it's the city of big shoulders and wind and it's my favorite major US city (I've been to NYC, LA, St Louis and Orlando, so those are the comps). My sister, daughter and I will stay just outside the city itself and take the train in every day as if we're commuting. We'll stroll the Mag Mile and State Street, take in a show at the Briar Street Theatre and eat lunch at Ed Debevic's. It's October so we will enjoy a color tour all the way there and back and we can leave our outer layers at home.

We'll stop at a Borders Books. This alone is worth the 8-hour drive, each way, so we can sit on the second floor drinking coffee in the window and watching people scurry by on the pavement below. We'll shop at Macy's. Macy's! And the fabulous Columbus Day Sale! Oh, to live in a place with stores. I'm also bringing three of my books to leave in various strategic locations for someone to pick up and read.

This, the eve of a trip to the city, makes me wonder what it would be like to live in an urban place. It seems glamorous from here, tucked into the woods where the only culture is the free karaoke performance at the bar. I'm sure I'd take in a play at least once a month and rarely eat dinner at the same place, cook less often than I do now (it's become my  least favorite chore) and buy fresh flowers from the corner stand regularly. I'd probably dress better--a Life Is Good T-shirt would not be considered dressy casual in a city--and I'd know all of the train schedules, which taxis are the fastest, and the shortest routes on the safest streets. I would be just one more anonymous soul trying to get through the day with no one asking me how I like my new job or if I've seen the new hairstyle of the girl at the gas station.

I'd miss the trees. And my routine: a five-minute, five-mile commute to work on a two-lane road canopied by maple trees much of the way, mine frequently the only vehicle on the entire route. I run out the door most mornings, my boots untied and coat half-on, turn up the radio to hear 5% of the news events occurring in the world, none of which impact our lives here, and which  my commute was longer so I could hear the rest of the story. I always see Mrs. Goetz in her window, watching me turn toward work, so she can later report to me what time I arrived every day last week. She's pretty accurate--if any local employers are considering time clocks, they should just hire her. She'd also be a reliable alibi corroborator if one had driven by her house at the time of the murder. She'd remember, down to the minute, what time she spied the vehicle and which direction it was headed.

But I digress. We are traveling to the city, it will be fabulous, then we will travel home and it will be even more fabulous for the brief interlude of urban sophistication. 

E-reading

I'm traveling in Italy, my first time in Europe, and something strange has happened. The book I brought with me proved unworthy of my attention so I downloaded an ebook from Kindle. Now I'm having trouble tearing my eyes from the screen to witness the gorgeous scenery passing by the bus or train window!

I've always defended the traditional printed page, so satisfying to smell and watch the progress ("I'm halfway through already! Better read slower!") and I've been reading so long it's a natural inclination to carry a book with me, usually tucked under my arm. These past few days, though, I've simply whipped out me iPhone and clicked my way through a book.

I wasn't sure if I loved reading or books more. Now I know: reading. Definitely reading. Bit I can't wait to visit a bookstore again! Maybe on the way home...

Blackbelt in Shopping

We live so far from civilization, we approach Christmas shopping with a fierce strategy and unrelenting energy. Even with the internet, it's difficult to purchase everything without physically entering a store and seeing every piece of merchandise presented for sale. Besides, half the fun of shopping is the shopping itself: the browsing, considering, imagining. Even the other shoppers, sharing small talk, shopping tips or even coupons. Grandma had taught us how to shop; we invoked her guidance on this longest shopping day of the year, fondly remembering the way she dealt with indecision: "If you can't decide between the two, just buy both."

I picked up my sister at 6:30 am. We each had our travel mugs of coffee, and we each brought snack bars, bottled water and tote bags. For interest's sake, I had my pedometer on my cell phone activated. Oh, and I had two extra pairs of shoes stashed in the truck in case my feet started to hurt. During the three-hour drive to Traverse City we discussed our itinerary, our shopping lists and restaurant choices. The plan was to finish our Christmas shopping in one day, then drive back home.

We started at a couple box stores, stretching our legs and finding our shopping groove. It's important to accelerate slowly--if one enters the first store at full speed, one's energy will lag early on and ultimately peter out. A definitive sign of a rookie shopper is one who bursts into the store and jogs from department to department, maniacally shoving hangers around until she finds the prize. Maintaining a steady rhythm throughout the day will ensure energy for the long haul as well as preserve personal dignity (always a consideration).

After trundling our first purchases to the truck, we proceeded to the mall where we parked in a strategic location outside the store where we planned to purchase the most. We carried our tote bags in to reduce the number of plastic store shopping bags; our first stop was at the pretzel vendor for a hot pretzel. A professional shopper always plans time for refueling, as shopping is miserable when one is hungry and progresses to nearly impossible when one is fainting from lack of nutrition. Shopping is an endurance sport forcing participants to focus on hydrating and eating light meals to maintain the pace.

We pushed our heaping cart out to the truck after covering half the mall; it was time for lunch. We emptied the cart, carefully stacking our purchases on separate sides of the truck to simplify the unpacking, which would occur after dark. Still feeling fairly energetic, we re-entered the mall and found a comfortable eat-in restaurant. Once we placed our orders our lists reappeared for revision and additions, and we planned the remainder of our afternoon and evening: the rest of the mall, then a few more box stores (including a book store), a cruise through a furniture store just for fun, and the long ride home.

Christmas shopping finished, we headed north and arrived home just before midnight. The pedometer read 6.3 miles; the Christmas budget was reduced to $1.15; the list was fulfilled. Grandma would be proud.