Are the seas a-flush with spicy doom?

It’s getting hard to decide which global disaster is most likely to lay us low, you know?

Just when scientists had gotten me warmed up to the idea that global warming and Gulf oil leaks are bad for us, now they tell me that the latest doom we have to worry about is—well, they don’t have a name for it yet, but I suppose it would be called “global snickerdoodling”.

Ask an Angel: January 15, 2026

I’m writing because winter showed up early this year, and I’ll be honest, it caught me off guard. The snow and ice came sooner than usual, and just like that, my daily outdoor walks were off the table. Those walks were more than exercise for me; they were my fresh air, my routine, my mood booster. Losing them so suddenly has been harder than I expected.

Dead men do tell tales

New Year, New You. At least that is the slogan every person who greets the incoming year says, a hope for some prosperous future we can all attain. Hello all, hope your winter break was good, that the holidays were a moment of stress-free reprieve. I, for one, feel that now is the real escape. My day job being in retail, the month of December contains a different power over me than it once was. Although I don’t prescribe to the notion that Christmas/Holiday music is annoying. Unless it is “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.”

But enough about that, here we are in the beginning of January. Possibly you are reflecting on what you didn’t do in 2025. Maybe a crisis came up that made you reevaluate your priorities, bring more focus to what is lacking. A crisis of faith, one might say. However, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic. That is just the dilemma at the emotional core of Rian Johnson’s latest in his Knives Out series.

From one extreme to another

The holidays are finally over. Thank goodness the family gatherings are done for another year. All that is left is memories of the spirited dinner table discussions and thoughts of all the wonderful gifts. In all fairness, we should talk, since Rosie has an overflowing toy box already, we wrapped up her dog treats and told her Santa brought them. The best gift we received was a solid glass paperweight with a real crab encased inside. Needless to say, we decided to join the pajama clad, over caffeinated, exhausted people during the after Christmas rush and return this magnificent gift from whence it came and possibly get something else in exchange. To keep our strength up for this endeavor, we Googled restaurants in the Schaumburg area and found something interesting. This family-owned restaurant is JoJo’s Diner.

Teaching kids is a dream job — for better and for worse

I’ve been retired from teaching for more than 20 years, yet I often dream that I am still (or maybe yet again will be) a teacher. But although I loved teaching, my teacher dreams always fall in the “bad dream” category.

Oh, not because the kids are rebellious in the dream. No, in all my “bad” teaching dreams, it’s never the kids’ fault.

It’s always me.

The Emily Post of snow removal

“Well, we are witnessing the downfall of society,” said my Gentleman Friend, as he kicked off his boots next to the front door and brushed snow out of his hair.

Sometimes I’m not sure if he’s being funny or overly dramatic. So I wait.

Not the musical ear-worms, like that song you hear once in the morning that still haunts you as you go to bed at night. No, I discussed those linguistic ear-worms that you hear other people say over and over again every time they open their mouths.

Everything old is new again

The universe is conspiring to tell me something, to impart some wise lesson to remind me what this season is supposed to be about.

I felt a twinge of it with the first snowfall of the season. I woke up to a beautiful wonderland blanketed with snow and something bubbled up inside me. Instead of checking the temperature and worrying about levels of antifreeze in my car, I poured a second cup of coffee, sat in my comfy chair, and swiveled to face my picture window. Everything was still and sparkling and bright, while I sat in jammies and slippers thinking how lucky we were to have a cozy house.

Ask an Angel: December 11, 2025

Every year, I tell myself I’ll be fine spending Christmas Day on my own, but this year feels especially hard. My children all have families of their own now, and while I understand they want to wake up at home with their kids on Christmas morning, I can’t help but feel left out.

A royal feast

Nancy has been having a taste for some crab legs. They seem to be getting harder and harder to find, and when you do find them, you have to get a home equity loan to pay for dinner. She remembers that back in our hometown of Hoffman Estates there was a seafood buffet that somehow was overlooked by us. So, with high hopes and empty tummies, we decided to finally try the Royal Sushi and Seafood Buffet.

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Gig

When the server shows me to my table, I ask her in my signature apologetic way if I can be seated at a table with a closer view of the stage. I am related to two of the performers, I tell her. My husband, a trumpet player, will be playing live music at a music club with a jazz quartet and for one night only, my son, Ben, will sit in with the group on guitar. I settle in my chair and wait for the lights to go up.

So, what’s the deal with that ear-worm, anyway?

You probably have plenty of pet peeves about the way that other people speak, right?

You know what I mean — that teenager who can’t keep his mouth from saying “You know” after every six or eight words.

Or his sister who spews “Like” before every sentence when she recounts a conversation she had.

Or your brother-in-law who says “Literally” like literally a million times, you know?

Wild interpretations

What makes for a good adaptation from the written word to a visual medium? This is a question that has launched many a film review in the past. Also, it has plagued filmmakers for over a century now. Most fall into two camps. Either you stay so completely faithful as to be a direct copy, think No Country for Old Men. Or you take the Baz Luhrmann approach, tossing every strange anachronism at the screen a la his Romeo + Juliet. Recent internet discourse has surrounded next year’s reinvention of Wuthering Heights. Although after watching the music video featuring Charli XCX with The Velvet Underground’s John Cale titled house, the Goth rock aesthetic has me intrigued in the soundtrack at least. As one commenter put it, Count Brat-cula indeed.

Let’s go Dutch

We just returned from ten wonderful days in Aruba, which, if you don’t know, is a Dutch island in the southern Caribbean. The weather was gorgeous and believe it or not, they have some of the best restaurants we have ever been to. When we came home, we were still in a Dutch state of mind and thought of a Dutch pancake that Jim makes for me at home. To give him a day off, we remembered that Richard Walkers Pancake House in Crystal Lake offers the same thing and off we went.

The holly and the ivy: plants for the holidays

Holidays are filled with traditions, celebrating with family and the giving of gifts. This year, our family is altering the tradition of giving store-bought gifts. We are giving each other homemade gifts. Thankfully, there are some very creative and talented members of my family. I, unfortunately, am not one of them.

Now you Know: November 20, 2025

M&T of Neighborhood 26 asks: “We moved here in August and love the summer and fall plantings around the entrance to Sun City from Rt.47, together with those around the lodge. Will Sun City be putting up a Christmas tree? If so, where will it be and will it be lit?”

The glow in the courthouse basement

We stood in line for nearly an hour at the Cook County Courthouse across from the Daley Center. It made for excellent people watching — an assembly line of brides and grooms, gripping their marriage licenses in sweaty palms, slowly advancing through the line one by one, as each couple went into the small room where they took their vows in front of a judge. There were brides of all shapes and sizes, wearing short dresses, long dresses, full makeup and eyelashes or just a modest white dress. There, as if illuminated by a spotlight, I saw my oldest son, Clark, and his beautiful bride Lizzy, waiting patiently for their turn to get married.

A story about a story that almost happened

It’s always a bit strange when a famous person dies, and you realize that you have a unique personal connection to him. I thought of that recently when “Ace” (Paul Daniel) Frehley died on October 16. Frehley was the lead guitarist for the iconic rock band Kiss — and I once owned an electric guitar that he once almost owned.

OK, that’s going to take some explaining.

Let’s go back about 25 years, to the day I went into a music shop, hoping to sell a black Les Paul electric guitar that I owned.

Don’t fall behind, spring ahead and prepare now for next year

Each evening, I spend about 10 minutes preparing for the next morning. It is a habit started a few years ago that makes my mornings less busy. I choose and set out my clothes, put water in the tea kettle, and make my overnight oats. I also set out the dishes and utensils needed for breakfast, set out my dog’s food and review what I need to do the next day. Evenings are generally less busy, and by doing things the night before, it gives me a head start on the next day. It makes the next day more pleasant and productive.

Like grandma used to make

A senior citizen’s sleeping habits are very strange indeed. You wake up at the butt crack of dawn and fall asleep right after Wheel of Fortune. Even when you are sleeping, your bladder decides to wake you up, or your brain suddenly remembers something you were trying to think of two days ago. Such was the case when Jim woke up screaming the name of a restaurant that we haven’t been to in over 25 years. The name in this sudden epiphany was Tony Spavone’s Ristorante in Bloomingdale, so off we went for a late lunch.

Lovable losers

A good film doesn’t require a good protagonist. There is no obligation to the audience from any screenwriter that the character we follow throughout the feature be as flawless as Teflon, no moral ambiguity whatsoever. The Hays Code has been long gone now and we are adults that can discern right from wrong. The only sin of the filmmaker is to make characters that are boring.

Filmmaker Kelly Reichardt would never be described as maximalist. Her dramas are quiet fly-on-the-wall observations of very grounded human beings. This is why the idea of creating a heist film felt so strange a genre for her to tackle. The Mastermind plays like a lost heir apparent to the works of Hal Ashby and Monte Hellman, a film that not only takes place in the 70s but beamed to us from that decade. Here we meet James Blaine Mooney (Josh O’Connor), a failure in the truest sense of the word. He is the son of a judge and comes from wealth; went to school for architecture and can build furniture. However, he is jobless not because of outside forces but his lack of ambition.

Ask an Angel: November 6, 2025

I’m a 78-year-old veteran, and lately, the days have been feeling long and quiet. My wife passed away two years ago, and while I’ve done my best to keep going, it’s been tough. We were married for over 50 years. She was my rock, and the house hasn’t felt the same without her.

I still get around okay, but some days I just don’t have the energy to cook or drive myself to the store. I miss having someone to talk to, share a meal with, or even just sit and watch TV. I know there are other vets out there like me, I just don’t know how to find them.

When one ring meant ‘I’m here’

Waaaaaay back in the 1990s, when calling long-distance (outside my area code! On a landline!) was cost-prohibitive, my mother devised a system: In my college dorm, I would wait until Sunday evening when the phone rates went down after 10 p.m. I would call her at the top of the hour, ring once, then hang up. That was our signal. She would know that I was ready for our weekly phone call, so she called me back, usually while puttering in the kitchen, while my Dad picked up the extension in the living room close to his favorite chair.

The bindle made all the difference

When I was a kid, I was usually a bum.

I’m talking about my Halloween costume, of course. I wasn’t a bum every day, though there are those who might dispute that.

Ask an Angel: October 23, 2025

During a recent visit to my parents’ home, I noticed a small plate on the kitchen counter with several pills just sitting there. It wasn’t the first time. My parents are both in their early 80s, no dementia, but I have started noticing some forgetfulness here and there — nothing major, just little things like repeating a story or losing track of time.

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