Connie and the Mild, Fine, Routine, Day Like Any Other

Daily writing prompt
You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?

I am an optimist but things don’t happen on an “great, amazingly fantastic” level in my world. They also don’t happen in an “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” way. But anytime I have “news,” I talk to my husband.

There have been the “biggies” that I’ve, of course, told him immediately:

  • I’m pregnant
  • I got the job
  • They turned me down

There have been texts that aren’t necessarily urgent but are important.

  • Paul Reubens died
  • Wordle in two
  • They closed the Starbucks at the Belvidere Oasis wtf

I have texted him news that may seem ordinary but is actually quite shocking:

  • I just saw the mayor and he was wearing shorts
  • Karl is being nice to me today
  • Tiffany told me she likes anal

And I’ll text him quick photos like the one below that require no words. Because you don’t know me, I’ll explain the photo: Our son Sam fell asleep while strumming his guitar.

Sharing our daily news, breaking or boring, is our “great, amazingly fantastic” way of life over here and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thanks for reading my not-so-great, un-amazingly non-fantastic blog! -Connie

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P.S. Karl and Tiffany are not their real names.

A few of you asked where we hike, so….

I’ve never “reblog” button before but thought I’d share our Rockford Fringe blog post with you because some of you have asked me where we hike. My dad once told me, “If one person asks, then twelve people care” and I’ve been operating on that scale for as long as I can remember.

We hike all over, but I’m including a short blog (above) about where we hike in the winter.

Hope this information helps and remember, our hikes are free and open to the public so join us!

-Connie

The allure of brown signs with white letters

Bloganuary writing prompt
Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.
Missed it again.

You know those brown signs with white lettering that indicate a nearby attraction? I find them irresistible. Jesse and our kids seem to appreciate them, too. In the 19 years of being a parent, I can’t think of a single time anyone in my family has turned down the “opportunity” to follow a brown sign. I can confidently say we have checked out every scenic overlook, city park, museum, historic building, historic district, statue, sculpture, monument, memorial, bridge, what-have-you in the Rockford region.

Except one.

There is a brown sign indicating a train museum about 40 minutes from home in a town called Marengo. Jesse was the first to hear about this museum that’s a “repository of railroad history.”

“We should go,” he said in 2008, when we only had two kids.

“We should go,” he said in 2009, when we had three kids.

“We should go,” he said in 2010, when we had four kids.

“We should go,” he said in 2011. “It’s family friendly!”

We wanted to go, but the museum has limited hours. Every time we tried to plan a trip, the museum was closed.

“That’s too bad,” Jesse would say.

I didn’t think too much of it because I had only heard of the train museum through my husband. I had never seen a single ad — in print or online — about it. I had never seen a brown sign.

***

In 2014, the Des Plaines Oasis (a rest stop) permanently closed. This was bad news for the Kuntz family. We stopped there every time we went to Chicago. It was the last chance for us to use public restrooms without having to pay a toll or buy something. When the kids were little, this rest stop was essential to a successful trip.

When the Des Plaines Oasis was demolished, we were forced to use the truck stop in Marengo on our way to and fro Chicago. They have cheap gas, clean restrooms and you don’t have to pay a toll to exit or enter 90 but it’s somehow located too close and too far from home and our destinations. It wasn’t convenient but it is what we used. When we started going to this “pit stop,” I noticed the brown sign pointing the way to the train museum.

“Is that the train museum you’re always talking about?”

“Yes.”

***

I’ve lost count of how many times we stopped in Marengo to use the bathrooms. At least 100. And we’ve never once followed the brown sign. At some point, going to the train museum just seemed like work. And Marengo, I’m sure it’s a lovely town, but to us it’s where the toilets live. We don’t even call it Marengo. We call it “The Toilets.”

“Where are you right now?” I used to call Jesse when I knew he was on his way home from Chicago.

“Just passed The Toilets,” he’d answer. (Sometimes he called it “The Terlecks.”)

The Toilets = 40 minutes.

***

Now that the kids are older, we rarely stop at The Toilets in either direction but last week when I was driving Jesse to O’Hare, he said he needed to stop. As I drove toward the gas station, I saw the brown sign for the train museum.

“I can’t believe we never made it there,” I said.

“Maybe when we have grandkids,” he said.

***

Thanks for reading. Does your city have brown signs, too? -Connie

Nice round letters

Bloganuary writing prompt
Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

My first name might be “Baby.”

Many mothers, fathers and families say something along the lines of “Hi Baby!” to a baby long before it’s officially named or born. There are countless videos, tv shows and films that suggest this.

Example 1: The dad gently puts his ear to to his pregnant wife’s belly. He smiles with wonder and pulls away for a second. Then he’ll speak directly to the belly. “Hi Baby,” he says.

Example 2: Sometimes a toddler-aged big sister or big brother will pat the mother’s belly and sweetly say, “Baby.”‘

Example 3: At prenatal checkups, nurses, doctors and ultrasound technicians sometimes ask, “How’s Baby?”

***

“Baby” has Old English origins. Some argue that “baby” is imitative of the first words babies say: “Ba ba ba ba ba.”

Others argue that babies are gifts from heaven and that’s that.

People — and this is new information — are opinionated about babies.

***

My second name is Constance. My friends call me Connie.

Constance means steadfast and reliable. Connie means knowledgeable. I do my best.

***

When I was in high school my friend Raymond told me I should go by Constance.

“‘Connie’ sounds like a secretary’s name,” he said with disgust.

***

When I worked at Marshalls, my friend Andy used to call me Constance whenever my mood swung from cheerful to pissed.

“Constance is here,” she’d say. “Look out.”

***

When I worked at a Bruegger’s Bagel Bakery, a new hire asked me my name.

“Connie Ross,” I told her.

“Hmmm,” she said. “Nice round letters.”

I remember panicking a little shortly before I got married because “Connie Kuntz” doesn’t have nice round letters.

***

I’m sorry to say I do not remember the name of the gal who said my name had nice round letters. I am disappointed in myself. I should at least be able to remember if her letters were pointy.

I will say this: Many wonderful people have drifted into my life and improved it in nice, round ways. Life is amazing that way.

Thanks for reading. -Connie Kuntz (round and sharp letters)

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Poll-lease come up with a fresh prompt

Fern in her happy place. Photo taken by me in my unhappy place because she always beats me.

Today’s prompt: What’s your dream job?

Excuse me, but Bloganuary issued this prompt in 2023. I wrote Cursive and Curtsies because of it. I wonder if this prompt redux is an “oopsie” human error or the result of “beep boop boop” artificial intelligence. Either way, someone is not very good at their job.

***

My daughter Fern, 15, is at a chess tournament. I dropped her off at 7:30 this morning. She and her teammates and coaches greeted each other with smiles and excitement. The tournament is in Huntley, Illinois. Their slogan is, “The Friendly Village with Country Charm.” Somebody was paid a lot of money to come up with a code for “Whites Only.” I wonder if it was their dream job to do that. Huntley also touts itself as being an outer Chicago suburb located on “The Golden Corridor.” The Golden Corridor is I-90 which traverses 13 states and is the longest interstate in the United States.

***

Yesterday, there was a fatal accident off “The Golden Corridor.” Upon exiting I-90, a UPS truck crashed into a concrete barrier, rolled over and caught on fire. The burnt bodies of two men were found inside the truck. The autopsies are scheduled for Monday.

***

In 2021, my husband Jesse was a delivery guy for UPS for two months. It was a part-time holiday seasonal job. He had been laid off during the pandemic and though we had savings plus my monthly income, we weren’t exactly flush.

***

After I dropped Fern off this morning, I went to Starbucks. I ordered a venti cappuccino with almond milk at the drive-thru. The barista told me to pull around and I did. After a minute or so, she opened the window with a fervor reminiscent of the doorman from The Wizard of Oz. She handed me the credit card reader through the window and said, “It’s going to ask you a question.”

Frank Morgan as the Emerald City Doorman in The Wizard of Oz.

***

Frank Morgan didn’t only portray the doorman in The Wizard of Oz. He also played the Chauffeur with the Horse of a Different Color, Professor Marvel, the actual Wizard of Oz. I can instantly and clearly picture each character. He portrayed each of them with precision, sweetness and cheer. Now that’s a character actor! Was this gig his dream job?

***

Between the two of us, Jesse and I have had a lot of jobs. I’ve flipped burgers, he’s poured coffee, I’ve written plays, he’s acted in commercials, I’ve been a reporter, he’s been a designer, I’ve fluffed towels, he’s hung truss, I’ve guided free hikes, he’s called multimillion-dollar shows.

It’s time for me to pick up Fern so I have to go. Thanks for reading and if you took the time to answer the poll, thank you for doing that, too! -Connie

Playing chess with Angelo while waiting for Fern to finish her tournament.

Oh Canada!

Maybe this’ll work.

Today’s prompt: What makes a good leader?

***

When I was shoveling the front walk this morning, I heard the honking of a skein of Canada geese flying overhead. I looked up and saw them in that familiar V formation, heading west. Canada geese frequently fly over our house but never stop to hydrate, rest or snack. Ducks, turkeys, foxes and owls visit our back yard all year long. We’ve even hosted a great blue heron a few times! But the Canada geese have never appreciated our hospitality. Year after year, they snub us and it hurts.

***

The thing that makes a good leader is also what makes a good follower: awareness.

  • awareness of self
  • awareness of surroundings
  • awareness of others

***

The V formation is is a natural model of efficiency, determination and destination. I’ve read that geese don’t necessarily have the “strongest” goose at the point. I’ve read that they place the strongest and weakest throughout the V and take turns at different “stations” of the formation before exhaustion kicks in. They honk to communicate when it’s time for a shift change. So it’s not a “strongest in front, weakest in back” mentality. It’s “I help you, you help me.” I think this is brilliant. I’ve never seen a goose, strong or weak, fall out of the sky.

***

I’ve known many good leaders and many good followers. The best leaders I know are also the best followers. Likewise, the best followers I know are the best leaders. They know their strengths and their weaknesses. They’re aware.

***

My favorite famous leader is Sir Paul McCartney because he’ll jam with anyone; sometimes leading, sometimes following, sometimes performing alone. I love his music and stage presence. He always seems legitimately inspired. He looks and sounds like he’s honoring something divine whenever he plays music.

Here’s a video of Sir Paul leading and following. There’s a lot going on and I love every second of it but I am a fan. A non-fan might not be that impressed because the crowd isn’t super engaged. I’m showing this because it shows how he leads and follows even when the crowd sort of sucks. It’s still a “joy, joy…such a joy, joy!”

***

Thanks for reading. -Cosmically Conscious Connie

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Geese fly overheard at Indian Hills Forest Preserve.

One ringy dingy

This moment is brought to you by social media. That’s my mom Connie Ross, her dog Willow, and two books by Bob Hill.

Today’s prompt: If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

I was in fourth grade when I learned that Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone. I kind of think that’s something that six-month-old babies know nowadays but yeah, fourth grade is when I learned about Alexander Graham Bell.

Moving on: I remember how Sister Margaret Rose told us that Mr. Bell failed numerous times before his contraption worked. She commended him for having “the patience of Job” to get the job done.

Sister loved a good anecdote and told us about Bell’s first phone call to his friend Thomas Watson:

“Watson was in the other room!…within earshot!…and Alexander Graham Bell called him!… It was how he tested to see if the telephone worked!…and when Watson answered, Bell said, ‘Come here I want to show you something!'”

My classmates and I cracked up with Sister. This was comedy gold.

***

A few minutes ago, I heard my 17-year-old son Sam sneeze. He’s in the basement and I’m in the dining room. I texted him, “Are you okay? I just heard a terrible sneezing fit.”

He texted back, “Yep. Sorry.”

***

Growing up in the 1970’s and 1980’s, when the phone rang, my father would say, “One ringy dingy” after the first ring. He rarely said, “Two ringy dingies” after the second ring because the phone was almost always answered by the the second ring.

***

I still do not know who “Job” was but I hear someone reference him and his patience at least once a month.

***

I just looked up “Patience of Job” on my phone. According to Catholic.com, Job was an educated Jew and probably lived in Palestine.

***

When I go to bed at night, I feel a moment of giddy anticipation knowing that when I wake up in the morning, I get to play the holy trinity of NY Times word games on my phone: Connections, Spelling Bee and Wordle. These simple word games are as integral to my morning routine as coffee.

***

After I finish Connections, Spelling Bee and Wordle, I check social media to see if anyone shared their “test results.”

***

When I was in eighth grade, I was in my prime…for making prank phone calls. I called Paesano’s, the local pizza joint, and ordered five extra large pizzas to be delivered to my classmate’s house. (Sorry Justin.) I called another classmate, disguised my voice and said I was calling from “Dialing for Dollars” and that she had just won a lot of money! She said, “Connie, I know it’s you,” and I hung up on her. (Sorry Megan.) I prank-called every single one of my eighth grade classmates, and denied it the second I was caught. Should I be in jail?

***

Most summers I’ll take a month or more off from social media. Last summer, I took three months off. I always lose weight during these hiatuses. And I always gain it back when I got back to social media.

***

Last night, a friend of mine shared a status update on social media stating that he had lunch with a fellow author / journalist. It was a name I recognized because he was friends with my late father. Though I hadn’t seen the author / journalist since the late 1970’s, I remembered him well and fondly. I mentioned in the thread that my parents had one of his books on their bookshelf. I went over to my mom’s today, told her about the “blast from the past” and she showed me two books. I love moments of friendship and books and it happened because of social media.

***

If I could un-invent something, it wouldn’t be my cell phone or social media. It would be electroshock therapy and other treatments that make people forget. Without these #bloganuary prompts that are delivered to my website, I wouldn’t have thought to remember any of these memories.

Thanks for reading. Hope this jogged some of your memories! -Connie

Has pepper ever made you sneeze?

Zoom in to see all the pepper!

Today’s prompt: Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

I was thinking about the “clutter” prompt as I was cooking dinner (spaghetti and meatballs) this evening. I wanted to add a dash of pepper to my sauce so I reached for my pepper shaker. The moment I picked it up, the tiny plug fell out of the bottom and the pepper immediately poured out and made a mess. Not only that, it caused me to sneeze.

Don’t worry. They were cute, barely audible, miniature sneezes. More like sneezettes, really. The kind that makes you think, “Oh how whisper-like and adorable!”

While I was being dainty and feminine, it dawned on me that I really need to de-clutter my spice rack. Between sneezettes, I wondered “Why do I have three separate containers — and brands– of cumin?” and “I bought the garam marsala in the summer and have used it once. Will I ever use it again?” and “Didn’t I buy that cream of tartar at Byerly’s…when I lived in Minneapolis…more than twenty years ago…the first time I made snickerdoodles?”

Suffice to say, I’ve made plans to clean up my spice rack. Tomorrow morning, it’s going to sparkle! After that, I may move on to organize the coat closet or or clean out the fridge. It’s a brand new year, baby. Time to tidy!

Or not. Probably not.

It would appall you how much crap we have. Our mantle alone is filled with old mushrooms and that’s hardly the only place I feature “God’s art.” Every flat surface in this house features rocks, feathers, pine cones, leaves, twigs, horse chestnuts and old bird nests.

On top of that, we have art supplies, light bulbs, tools, old toys, puzzles, books, candles, flashlights, first aid kits, musical instruments, cables, batteries, extension cords, adapters and more situated throughout the house. We have a drawer filled with hot sauce packets…and nothing else. It’s fine. We’re weird, I don’t care and I don’t mind the clutter.

Thanks for reading! -Connie

P.S. Until tonight, I thought pepper-induced sneezing was something that only happened in cartoons. I’m going to tell you the truth: It’s much cuter when it’s Tom (the gray cat from Tom & Jerry) sneezing, versus, say, a 54-year-old Rockford woman.

P.P.S. If you’re wondering, the spaghetti dinner was ruined from the pepper and sneezing so I ended up serving egg rolls and leftover mashed potatoes.

Ripped off…

The ripped out pages of Crush by Carrie Mac.

We’ve had a little library in our front yard for more than ten years and I still love it. There are new books in there every week and I take great pride in neatening it nearly every day. Sometimes someone will leave art supplies or a nice note in there. I am pleasantly surprised several times a month.

But this evening, I was unpleasantly surprised. I was walking Barbara and wasn’t wearing my glasses.When we walked by our little library, I glanced in and thought I saw several flyers messily strewn about on the lower shelf.

Occasionally someone will stuff a flyer in there for a local restaurant or a lawn care service or tax service. When this happens, I remove the offending advertisement and toss it into recycling. Our library is for free books or art supplies and the occasional approved free event. As much as I believe in supporting small businesses and shopping locally, our library is not a place for advertising someone’s for-profit business.

Back to those “flyers.” I made a mistake. They weren’t flyers. Once I opened the door to the library, I realized someone had actually ripped up the book Crush by Carrie Mac.

Crush had been in our little library for about a week. I’m not sure who put it in there, but I was happy to see the title! It’s short, 112 pages long, and it’s about a 17-year-old girl that is attracted to another teenage girl.

Here’s a picture of the back cover.

The torn off back cover of Crush.

My guess is some asshole* saw the book, got offended and ripped it up in a fit of homophobic rage.

Going forward, I am going to keep our little library well stocked with LGBTQIA literature. Please let me know your favorite LGBTQIA titles and I will do my best to add them to my library as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading. -Connie

*Rockford is home to numerous assholes. I’m sorry you had to find out here.

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A fairly recent picture of our house with matching little library. Can you tell what day this picture was taken? Hint: BUNNY.

WANTED: Brave Soles and Creative Souls

Testing the trails with my kids at Deer Run Forest Preserve in northern Illinois.

Barefoot hiking with the kids

For the past few weeks, my family and I have been testing several trails in northern Illinois to ensure that they are “barefoot friendly.” To be deemed barefoot friendly, the path must be clear and clean for at least one mile so that the barefoot hiker experiences pleasure, not pain.

Well, maybe a little pain

If you walk too fast, you’re going to get a little hurt. We learned this early in our training. While each of us acclimated very quickly to going barefoot, we started off going too fast. In our first trial week we either got cut, stung, bruised, scraped and/or poked. We’re fine with a little pain, but we have slowed down our pace, especially when others are with us.

A minor scratch from going too fast. Lesson learned.

The perks of bare feet

You can google “barefoot hiking” and find numerous articles, blogs and websites that list the health benefits. But here, I’ll share with you you what I’ve experienced.

One, I feel better. I feel…more.

Two, I’m more aware of my surroundings. Not only do I notice what’s happening on the ground, I’ve become more in tune with what’s happening with the trees and plants. A month ago, when I started going barefoot on a regular basis, I noticed that the trees, hedges, bushes and plants are in a constant state of shedding their leaves, blossoms, blooms and needles. Most of the shedding is pure comfort to walk upon. While I don’t recommend walking on blue spruce needles, it’s very pleasant to walk on white pine needles and yew needles.

Where the sidewalk…begins

It used to cause me pain to take walk on pavement. Now I see where the trees and plants lay down places for me to walk barefoot. A weed growing through the cracks makes a soft landing pad as do the little divots of dried out dirt in fragmented sidewalks. The wind has blown the early spring blossoms of my trees and flowers into a fine floral carpet in my back yard. I no longer slip on my sandals when I take out the trash or walk my dog. I rake the yard less. I stopped sweeping the sidewalk. I’ve found that Mother Nature naturally softens the earth for bare feet. And that’s just in my neighborhood.

Seasonal

I am not a fan of the humidity that comes with a Midwestern summer but I love walking barefoot through a cool forest on a hot day. It’s rejuvenating. I also love walking through hot, dry grass alongside an Illinois prairie. There is a soft crunch that comes with each step and the blades of grass send chills up my body. The textures of the trails are exhilarating.

Where I should go barefoot hiking?

Start small. Go barefoot inside and outside your home. Drive somewhere in your bare feet. Let your feet get used to being bare. When you’re ready, hit the trails. Just remember to go slow.

My favorite barefoot friendly trails (BFTs) are located at Hononegah Forest Preserve and Funderburg Forest Preserve. You can get two safe, sentient miles in at these BFTs.

PRO TIP #1: At Hononegah, start at the trail opening just off the soccer field. Go left and head toward the river. You’ll have a lovely experience.

PRO TIP #2: At Funderburg, if you’re a beginner, I recommend starting with your shoes or sandals on. Head toward the trail that takes you through the woods and to the creek. Once you pass the gravel, you can remove your footwear. We usually just leave our shoes on the side of the trail, but you can carry them with you, if you like.

There are many more paths that are perfect for bare feet which leads me to…

PRO TIP #3: Come with me!

If you’re not ready to venture out on your own, I’m leading several “shoe optional” hikes for the Rockford Fringe this summer. These free guided hikes are one or two miles long and after our walks, we’re having a light picnic and an art pop-up. That means we spend a half hour or more writing, reading, sketching, composing or creating some new kind of art. We call them “twarts” because they’re outdoor adventures with a twist of art.

Did I lose you?

If so, which part?

Does saying or even just reading “twart” make you uncomfortable? It’s a silly made-up word that embodies the Rockford Fringe. It can’t hurt you!

Are you turned off to the idea of exposing your bare tootsies in public? The hikes are shoe optional, so wear your footwear if you like.

Are you turned off to the idea of creating art in the open air? If so, then just observe or leave early.

Are you turned off to the idea of a picnic? Then don’t eat.

Real talk

I love barefoot hiking. I love writing, music, theatre, art, poetry and spoken word. I love picnics. I love being outside. I love meeting people. And I love sharing safe, fun, free events with the public. Why? Because the Rockford Fringe shows me what’s real. It shows me who’s real. It shows me, time and time again, people who think for themselves.

I am excited to see who shows up and gives their feet a chance to connect with the earth. And I’m even more excited to see what is created! We’ve already witnessed one new original song, a new short story, the beginning of a new screenplay, a couple new poems and some sketching and drawing.

We’re looking for a few brave souls and soles to join us at our twarts. Are you one of them? Then click the Events tab and sign up.

Thanks for reading! Hope to see you at a twart! -Connie

My foot at Hononegah Forest Preserve.

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