During the last two weeks of December, everyday epistle will feature favorite posts from 2011 as chosen by a handful of faithful readers, several of whom you’ll get to meet here.
Il Vicino was one of our favorite restaurants in St. Louis. But Il Vicino had a series of unfortunate incidents.
First, a wayward car plowed through the outdoor dining area and right into the restaurant. Not good.
A couple years later, Il Vicino had a fire and closed indefinitely. Not good at all.
I’ve eaten hundreds of meals at Il Vicino. When it was just my husband and me. When we were expecting our baby.
When we celebrated our baby’s first birthday with friends. When we were without a kitchen for six months during the big house remodel.
Have our order memorized. Two house salads with gorgonzola, a Da Vinci pizza, a children’s penne pasta with marinara on the side, a regular Coke not diet, an iced tea and a lemonade. For here or to go. Always the same.
As the months dragged on after the fire and the restaurant didn’t reopen, I knew I’d never eat at Il Vicino again. There were other locations, but not in St. Louis.
It was sad, but survivable. We moved on to other pizza places.
Dewey’s opened a location in University City. Pi opened in the Loop. And there was always good old Papa John’s or Domino’s.
St. Louis folks will notice Imo’s missing from our list. In our nearly 13 years here, we never did acquire a taste for St. Louis style pizza so many of you love.
Anyway, we moved on. Same way we did when we left Sir Pizza in High Point, North Carolina, and Giordano’s in Chicago.
il vicino wichita
Then we found out we’d be moving on literally. Our relocation to Wichita was imminent. We journeyed west for a visit.
You’ll never guess where we ate pizza in Wichita.
That’s right. Il Vicino. They have two locations there. The only two in the state of Kansas.
MapQuest revealed Il Vicino is less than five miles from our new house.
Memories flood me in these final days as a resident of St. Louis. I visit the places we’ve frequented and drive the roads we’ve traveled for more than a decade. They’ve become sacred in a way.
It’s the memories and the people that make them so. It’s the life that was lived there. Like our bodies, these places are dust but for the lives that were lived there. The living gives them meaning.
Translated, the Italian il vicino means the nearby.
leaving university city
Wichita, St. Louis, Chicago, North Carolina—they’re not so far apart. I hold them in the nearby. In my memory, my heart. I will add to them as long as I am alive.
Come near to God and he will come near to you. James 4:8 NIV
When I started blogging, I didn’t know what I was doing. Still don’t in many ways.
barking dog as seen at Williams-Sonoma
Everyday Q&A was an attempt to let you in on what I was learning so you could learn too. We’re all in this together.
Time for Q&A II. A sequel about comments and sharing.
Q: Should I comment?
A: Yes, but only if you want to. Comments are always appreciated and always optional.
Q: What should I write?
A: Whatever you like within the bounds of good taste and discretion.
Q: What if I make a mistake or change my mind after it’s posted?
A: Contact me at everyday epistle at att dot net if you need me to change or remove your comment. I will be happy to oblige. A word of caution: once it’s out there, it’s out there.
Q: Huh?
A: As best I can understand, web browsers like Google periodically store content in caches.
If Google caches a post before a comment’s removed or changed, that comment may show up in a search even after it’s removed or changed, at least until Google crawls around again to cache the revised version.
A: Use whatever name you want. One friend uses an anagram and another uses an alias. Seriously.
Q: Why would they do that?
A: Remember, once it’s out there, it’s out there. If you use your full name and someone like an employer, your significant other, or your mom searches, they very well may find you and your comment here.
stealing my identity bumper sticker
Q: Why do I have to give my email address?
A: Security. Your email address is not published on the blog. Only WordPress and I can see it.
A: Security again. Trying to keep the spammers at bay.
Q: How can I get my picture to show up beside my comment?
A: For WordPress, go to Gravatar and upload a photo there.
Q: Do you even read the comments?
A: Yes. I read them all. And I try to respond to them all. Dew drop inn to dialog.
Q: Should I share a post I like?
A: Yes, please. Word of mouth is the way this community grows.
Q: How do I share a post?
A: Go to the end of the post you want to share and click on the button for how you want to share it (Facebook, Twitter, email, print, WordPress reblog, Pinterest). WordPress may ask you some security questions to complete the share.
angel flag
Q: What happens when I share a post?
A: It will be shared by you in the outlet you chose. Your people will read what you liked and maybe like it too. And every time you share a post, an angel gets his wings. It’s a wonderful life!
And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God. Hebrews 13:16 NLT
Numero uno, Cargill, headquarters its beef operations there. Koch Industries, second on the list, is headquartered in Wichita too.
I’ve taken the liberty of scouting a location for you. Bradley Fair appears to be where all the happening cats hang. There’s only one vacant storefront left, so you better get cracking.
And Ms. Lyons, while you’re making plans for your store, will you ask Apple, DSW and Trader Joe’s to open stores in Wichita? It would be of great help to me.
the red phone
Also please see about installing a direct line to my new residence. You know, a red phone like the ones in the stores. With free shipping.
In the meantime, I’ll plan buying trips to your stores in Kansas City, Tulsa, and Oklahoma City. I’ll reach out to the delivery man in my new neighborhood. I’ll chat with your minions of personal shoppers online.
For the sake of the well-dressed, the hip and the square on the prairie, I implore you to act. Open a store in Wichita, Jenna. It will be worth it.
And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. Matthew 6:28-29 NLT
Holidays. Holidays. Holidays. Feeling stressed yet? Yeah, me too.
June 22, 2011, at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden in Washington, D.C.
Good or bad, stress is stress no matter how you cut it. And December has stress to spare. So I’ve asked around for ideas to relieve stress and boost energy.
I’m familiar with the basics. Clear your schedule. Do what’s necessary and what you enjoy. Drop the extra busy-ness.
Pray. Spend time with people you like. Exercise and eat nutritious foods (okay, still working on those two). Play with your dog. Laugh.
Short of stealing away for a week at the spa, I was surprised to learn there’s more I can do. And it won’t cost me a dime:
1. Drink more water.
Both my massage therapist and my wellness coach friend Lisa Hautly recommend drinking more water. Helps flush out toxins and keep tissues hydrated.
2. Sleep.
Lisa says if you’re tired, go to bed. Epiphany, I know. Sleep is restorative. For most of us, it’s the only time our bodies and minds have to regenerate.
3. Remove your shoes.
A soccer mom friend who’s also a nurse said she’d read in a study you could reduce stress by simply taking off your shoes. Upon hearing this, our entire row of soccer moms flipped off our shoes on the sideline of the practice field. Ahhh.
fountain of youth
Water. Sleep. Bare feet. I can do that today. So can you.
Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 NIV
A Lifestyle and Weight Management Consultant and ACE Certified Personal Trainer, Lisa focuses on healthy living for busy souls in her wellness coaching and Ms. Moderation blog.
Proud to call her my friend, someday I hope to catch up with her on my bike.
Our past three houses have been old, old, old. Heated with radiators powered by boilers. The landlord for our current house asked us to schedule a boiler check.
Last Wednesday, grouchy service guy was supposed to arrive between 8 a.m. and noon. What time did he show up? Around 12:15 p.m.
It’s routine maintenance, I thought to myself. He’ll be gone in no time flat. Then I can get on with my life.
Three hours later, he’s still in the basement. Should have known I was in trouble when he told me he needed our garden hose.
“But I have all our stuff organized and stored down here for the movers,” I said. “Maybe you can come back and do this after we’re gone.”
“I’ll run the water down through the boiler and into the floor drain,” he said. “Your floor’s got a nice slope.”
the hose
A nice slope. Terrific.
I moved as much stuff as far away from ground zero as I could, retreated upstairs, and shut the door. The hours passed and it was approaching pickup time for my son at school.
“How’s it going down there?” I said from the landing.
“I’m done cleaning the boiler,” he said. Then he stepped into view. He was covered head to foot with grimy soot.
“Now I need to come upstairs and drain the radiators. Are they all clear where I can get to them?”
A mild panic ensued somewhere deep inside me. I think it was in my liver or maybe my spleen.
“Uh, give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll clear the way.”
He did not give me a minute, but came charging up the stairs.
roll with it baby
“Um, I need to get my son soon,” I said. “When will you be finishing up?”
“After I drain the radiators, all that’s left is cleaning up the mess downstairs,” he said. “Tell you what. Rather than me cleaning it, how about I give you a $50 credit and get out of your hair?”
“Okay,” I said cautiously. When he stepped out to his truck, I skedaddled to the basement.
A thin layer of black soot rested silently on every surface.
soot
“I don’t want the credit,” I said when he came back into the house. “Go ahead and clean it up. We’ll pay you the extra.”
That’s when grouchy service guy got sassy. All huffing and puffing, throwing attitude around, like the big bad wolf or a 16-year-old.
As he stomped down the stairs, I made a call. “I think you should come home,” I said to my husband.
Of course when my husband got home, sassy grouchy service guy sang a different song. The menfolk got on the phone with the landlord and worked out a deal. I didn’t care. My day was shot. I was done.
Come to find out, the soot now all over the basement had been a serious fire hazard as carbon inside the boiler. Perhaps we’d escaped flames via sassy grouchy service guy and a garden hose. God works in mysterious ways.
“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so My ways are higher than your ways
and My thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9 NLT
I have a friend who’s just two weeks younger than I am. Much smarter though.
She argues 40 shouldn’t be different from any other year. Every year we ought to live with no holds barred.
Maybe I’m a late bloomer, but 40 was different for me. It all started around 38 when I began using the two-letter word NO.
No, I will not do what you want me to do if it’s not right for me. No, I will not let you walk all over me. No, I will not play silly, little reindeer games. No, you are not the queen of the universe.
At 38, NO squeaked out as an anxiety-filled whisper. By 39, I could say it out loud with less hesitation, but the timing was all wrong. Now at 40, I can say it plainly, thoughtfully, and without much hand wringing.
The timing is better too. I’ve said NO this year to several people and things that weren’t right for me before I tried to find a way to accommodate them.
more gifts from the Garden, love that place
A polite, well-placed NO is liberating and gets easier with practice. It frees up time for YES.
Yes, I would like to try a blog. Yes, I will make mistakes, but that’s okay because I’m learning. Yes, I will have fun doing it. Yes, I will write with no holds barred.
Several years back, there was this commercial. I’ve combed the web and cannot find the actual spot. You web crawler people, let me know if you find it so I can post a link.
In the ad, a stodgy professor tells a writing class that none of them will likely ever be published. Editors sift through thousands of manuscripts. The best they could expect was a writing career at the top of the slush pile rather than the bottom.
Then, from within the masses of the lecture hall, a student’s hand pops up. Much to his professor’s chagrin and his fellow students’ triumph, he announces he’s already been published. Online.
and one more
That far-fetched dream is coming to fruition in my lifetime and yours. Imagine the possibilities. David McRaney did.
Sara designs awesome cards for awesome people. Featuring more than 600 designs, she customizes, prints and sells though her etsy shop.
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