The Greenhouse

I love a good café. I’ve certainly not kept that a secret. Any time I travel, I check out at least one local spot (more if I can), check out their mocha or their chai (sometimes both), check out their ambiance. I feel at home in a café, even when I’m far away from it. So when (a few years ago now?) I saw The Greenhouse café on an account I follow in Insta, I knew I had to visit. And I have several times since.

The Greenhouse is located on the grounds of The American Club, a luxury hotel and spa in Kohler, WI – but don’t worry, you don’t have to be a guest to check out the café; it is a public space. You do have to enter and walk through the lobby of the hotel, which always makes me feel woefully out of place, but the discomfort is worth it for the beautiful structure, which makes for an unusual but lovely café:

But wait – it gets even cooler! The structure originated as a solarium in Lancashire, England, and it was brought over and meticulously reassembled. The result is striking.

And when you’re sitting inside, the world seems, well, a world away. The café offers a sense of being cloaked, but all the while being bathed in sunlight. The last time I was there, a young lady was having her senior photos done (I’m assuming this was the case), and I have to say, it is a perfect spot to do so – both indoors and outside around the grounds. They even captured a couple cute shots of her sipping her latte.

They used to have a more extensive food menu (not sure if this will be coming back or not – they did mention that the Wisconsin Room somewhere on the premise had a full lunch), but the last time I was there, they only had breakfast sandwiches. (The wrap was tasty; the sandwiches all had meat, so I couldn’t try them.) The coffee beverages are good (the Sweet Cardamom latte especially). Everything is, yes, a bit pricier than you would likely pay at your local shop, but for the ambience, it’s worth it as a treat every now and then. Definitely great spot to meet a friend for a coffee (they also have ice cream and boozy milkshakes).

They do have pastries – though I will say that some taste is lost in the effort to make them look picture perfect, so great for a selfie, but don’t go in thinking the chocolate croissant will change your life. And a last little note: If you are like me and go to a café to work, make sure your devices are all fully charged – there are no plugs available.

World Mythology

In the fall, I get to teach a course I’ve been eager to teach for some time – a Humanities class called World Mythology. I’m sure you can figure out what the class will be about based on the title. 🙂 I spent what free time I could find during the end of Spring semester and then many full days once school ended creating content for the class. Our semester is sixteen weeks, and each will focus on a different area around the world. While I did opt to touch on some familiar mythologies, I wanted mostly to dive into mythologies that would be unfamiliar to my students (and to me).

This meant not using a textbook (which I also avoid as much as I can in my courses because of the added costs to students), and by the end, I had a nineteen page works and images cited (which will mean lots of links to check at the start of each semester to make sure they work 🤞🏻🤞🏻). But I think it’s worth it (even if it takes extra time ensuring I’m not breaking copyright). I had a lot of fun digging into mythologies from all over the world – and if my students enjoy them even half as much as I did, then I’ll call it a win.

I thought I’d share a couple of my favorite finds. I’d be curious if you were familiar with any of these.

The first comes from South Africa – the Tokoloshe (pronounced toe-co-lowsh), a trickster figure. While their appearance has evolved across stories and through time (ranging from human-like to primate-like), one thing remains consistent: their diminutive size (about hip-high to an adult human). They are mischievous (and sometimes dangerous), wreaking havoc – but also exist to invoke benevolence by scaring children (to make them act appropriately – perhaps you can think of such figures from your own childhood) or protecting against malevolent spirits. To learn more, check out this video:

The next comes from Slavic mythology – Baba Yaga, though variations of the name exist in several Slavic languages. In these languages, ‘baba’ means grandmother or old woman. ‘Yaga’ has a less-well-known etymology, though related terms bring about meanings of horror, anger, witch, and evil. In mythology, she was one of a trio of sisters of the same name (though in some iterations, she is solo) and had two contrasting roles. In some, she was repulsive and ferocious-looking and would fry then eat children; in others, she was a nice old woman who helped the hero. (That’s a coin flip I would never want to encounter.)

Perhaps, like me, the first time you heard this name uttered, it was in a John Wick film. The title character is said to be the one you sent in to deal with the baba yaga (though in this film, its incorrectly translated to mean ‘boogeyman’).

To learn more about this figure (and to learn her incredibly odd mode of transportation), check out this video:

In Fijian mythology, each island had a god who protected it. One such god is Rokobakaniceva, a giant octopus who protects the Naceva passage in Kadavu (an island south of Fiji’s largest island). If you know anything about the octopus, you know how intelligent and cunning they are, traits that this particular god was imbued with. She is best known for her legendary battle with Dakuwaqa, the shark god – a tale of chaos versus order. Even today, her influence continues – both as a cautionary tale for children and in ceremonies related to the sea, reinforcing the importance of respecting the water and maintaining balance in the world. To learn more about Dakuwaqa, Rokobakaniceva, and a couple other of the Fiji Island protectors, check out this video:

I’m really excited to teach this course in the fall – only time will tell if the students will enjoy it. 🤞🏻😬🤞🏻

Camping

I’ve been camping since the womb. Quite literally. My mother tent camped pregnant with me. There are a lot of photos (and a few vague memories) of my family tent camping at Peninsula State Park (which was also the campground my dad had been camping at since he was five). I’ve been told that we continued to camp there until my sister and I were old enough to realize how gross the bathrooms were (I’m going to note the facilities at the park these days are updated – not the pit toilets of yore). We started camping at a private campground a bit south of the park (which had spotless bathrooms, a pool, and a mini arcade). We had the ultimate freedom there – riding our bikes around the twenty-five acres, traipsing through the apple orchard, spending hours in the pool until our skin pruned.

My parents ended up buying a small camper and getting a seasonal spot – which meant our trailer stayed put year round, and we could come and go as we pleased during the summer. Once, we made thirteen trips from our Chicago suburb to Wisconsin’s thumb. This is the campground my family ended up owning and running for fourteen years.

So you could say camping is in my blood.

Yet, after my parents sold the campground in 2006, I didn’t camp much. (Also, excuse me while I have a moment – writing that year just now made me realize it’s been almost twenty years since they sold it. 😐) It’s not that I stopped loving camping – not by a long shot. But I had just graduated college and was on my way to graduate school. Life took off at a breakneck pace.

Enter a group of friends – a group of women who love to laugh and to explore nature. Who love a good farmer’s market and a day spent thrifting. And camping.

We now kick off each summer with a trek to that very park I frequented as a kid (with their new facilities; I realize I keep harping on this – but what I left out above was the time a snake was found in one of those pit toilets… 😬). We share in making meals, playing games, and, yes, laughing. This year’s trek we dealt with a thunderstorm the first night and rain most the second day – but that didn’t put a damper on us (we were also a little thankful since the state had been under a ban burn, but now we could have a campfire; well, once it stopped raining we could).

There is something about sitting in nature that is comforting. The sounds of birds chirping. The pines rustling in the wind. The pissed off squirrel dropping (I’m not exaggerating) twenty-ish pine cones onto one of our cars – over and over and over – BAM! He legit seemed to be aiming. 😂 The crackle of the campfire and the taste of dinner cooked over its flames. (Not so comforting was the camper next door yelling at their dog at 6:30 in the morning. First, it’s 6:30. Second, if you trained your dog, you woudn’t need to yell. Certainly not so loudly.)

It’s a perfect way for me to end the school year (I usually turn in grades the week before) – to walk away from work and just be. For an entire weekend.

First Friday Rec: Educated

Title: Educated
Author: Tara Westover
Genre: nonfiction, memoir, reflective
Pages: 368
Publication Date: Feb 8, 2022
StoryGraph* Moods: emotional, reflective, inspiring
How I Stumbled Upon This Book: The cover caught my attention while wondering through a bookshop.
Other Books by this author: none as of this writing
*StoryGraph also offers content warnings.

Description: Imagine being seventeen and never having stepped foot into a classroom. Or a doctor’s office. That was Tara Westover’s life. Her parents were survivalists living in the mountains of Idaho, and Tara went to bed every night with her “head-for-the-hills” bag at ready. When her brother turned violent against her, there was no one to protect her.

Tara, in secret, began to educate herself – learning enough to gain entrance to Brigham Young University. Her quest for knowledge took her literally and metaphorically all over the world. She ended up earning a PhD from Trinity College, Cambridge, and in 2019, she was the Rosenthal Writer in Residence at Harvard. A far cry from home. Perhaps too far. “You can’t go home again” is a well-known saying for a reason.

Why I recommend this book: Westover’s memoir is a testament to how an education can truly change someone’s life. I think it’s best said by Vogue (yeah, not who I expected ever to quote, either): “Despite the singularity of [Westover’s] childhood, the questions her book poses are universal: How much of ourselves should we give to those we love? And how much must we betray them to grow up?”

At its heart, Educated is a coming of age story – unlike any I’ve ever read before. But also, from the view of an educator, one I think everyone can gain something from.

“We are all of us more complicated than the roles we are assigned in the stories other people tell.”

“An education is not so much about making a living as making a person.”

~ Tara Westover, Educated

Rogue Characters: Murder Mystery Edition

Have you ever had a writer friend who talked about how sometimes it felt like they weren’t writing the story – their characters were? I know. It sounds absurd.

But sometimes – it really does feel that way.

Last week, I had rounded 80K on the first draft of my murder mystery novel, and I was getting to the point where my characters were on hot on the trail of the serial killer. I had a scene in mind where I thought they would get them – but before I started writing it, I realized it wouldn’t fit to have them there. The scene instead unfolded in a way that made more sense – and the heroes would get another chance.

Enter that next chance – what was going to be the final showdown. Only, this time, the serial killer wasn’t there by their own choice. How? I don’t know.

On a happy and somewhat related note, I did finally complete the first (very rough) draft of the novel and overshot my goal:

Even knowing how much work is ahead of me, typing those two little words felt REALLY good.

An Evening with Heather Headley

Twenty-two years ago (plus a couple months), I saw the national tour of Aida at the Weidner Center, which was located on my college’s campus. I took full advantage of the fact that my city’s performing arts center was walking distance and offered student rush tickets. I loved it so much that I went back again the next night for another performance and bought the soundtrack (the original cast recording). (I also happened to be friends with someone who worked at the Weidner who kindly nabbed one of the floor-to-ceiling vinyl posters that had hung around the center; and yes, I still have it – it’s hanging in my office. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

I listened to that soundtrack…I don’t even know how many times. But every time (still when I listen to it) I was utterly struck by the voice of Heather Headley, who originated the title role on Broadway (she also originated the role of Nala on The Lion King). (If you’re not a musical theater fan, you might recognize her from one of her acting roles – she was a recurring guest star on both Chicago Med and She’s Gotta Have It, not to mention currently playing Helen on Netflix’s Sweet Magnolias). There are folks who can sing (hit all the right notes at the right time for the right length), and then there are people who can SING (who can hit the notes – but can also add color and texture, who can nimbly move from note to note, who understands these things and can use them to craft more than a simple song, rather a whole experience). Heather Headley is the ladder, even when recorded. I quickly added her to my music bucket list (before I even really knew I had such a thing) – I just knew I HAD TO hear her perform in person.

I just didn’t expect it to take twenty-two years.

But – finally – I had the chance when she announced that she’d be singing with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. (I know she’s sung with them before, but this was the first time the stars aligned in my favor.) Expectations were high, but no pressure, Heather!

Y’all – when I say she not only exceed but shattered my expectations…

The first song she sang was “Over the Rainbow,” which she followed up with two from Aida, and cue tears. Twenty-two years, folks. More than half my life.

The entire night was utter magic – every single song, whether I knew them or not didn’t matter. (She was also joined for two songs by Curtis Bannister, who is currently at the Goodman in The Color Purple.) But the best part, always the best part, were the stories she told between songs. I love the little bits musicians reveal about themselves and their work during the in-betweens. And – she was funny. An utter delight.

And yes – she was backed by some of the most incredible musicians in the country in an incredibly well-built concert hall (which she demonstrated when she spoke and sang a bit unaccompanied by either the symphony or the microphone). I can understand why this venue was a bucket list one for her.

✔ – see Heather Headley perform in person

Woodfield Mall

I’ll admit, this post is mostly for my own nostalgia. But a couple weeks ago (by the time this posts, more like a month), I was listening to a podcast where one of the hosts, who is also from the Chicagoland area, mentioned Woodfield Mall – which is located in Schaumburg, IL, and is the mall of my childhood. Now, this was not just any old mall. This place was one of a kind. (I know, I know – “I bet you say that to all the malls.”)

In the podcast, the host mentions that this mall was the largest under one roof (in the U.S.), and that was what I was told as a kid, too. Whether that was actually true or not at the time it was built (it opened in 1971), I can’t say for sure – but it’s definitely not anymore if it ever was. But the comment made me curious, and I may have done a deep dive – and learned even more about this place I spent so many hours as a kid. (Like, it’s currently the sixteenth largest mall under one roof in the U.S. at 2.15 million square feet. Mall of America in Minneapolis, MN, is currently the largest at 5.6 million square feet.)

Photo Source

There is very little I remember about the shops in this mall (though I do recall there being a Fannie Mae Chocolate shop) – it’s everything else that sticks out to me.

For one, there were fountains (and a waterfall) – which, as a kid, we of course wanted to play in. And throw coins into them. Which, people did throw in coins (and many other things they shouldn’t have), and on this mall rabbit hole, I learned that every six weeks weeks or so, the coins would be removed, dried, and packed into milk crates – which would then be picked up and cleaned (a process that took three or four days, necessary because the coins became corroded from the chlorine, and the bank wouldn’t accept them this way) and then donated. From 1993 to 2004, those coins amounted to a $100,000 donation to the United Way.

But the BEST feature of this mall? The aquarium tunnels and how when you took the glass elevator down to that level, you could see the fish through the elevator walls. My sister and I still talk about that experience, even though I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time we witnessed it – the aquariums are long gone by this time. (The waterfall and fountains are gone by now, as well.)

In my deep dive, though, I learned about the music – which I’m not sure I remember, but through the magic of the internet, I was able to find. Before the mall opened, the developers commissioned a musician by the name of Suzanne Ciani to compose music (supposedly, according to an interview she did, there had been a recent law that required new shopping centers to provide artistic enhancements to their spaces) that would play in the tunnels with the aquariums. Using a synthesizer, she composed music that mimicked the sounds of fish swimming, which would play on a loop. You can listen to it here:

Just incase the embedded video doesn’t work, you can go straight to the video here: Suzanna Ciani – Fish Music

It’s been a long time since I’ve wandered through this mall, and I’m not sure if I want to see it – I imagine it looks completely different (it went through a big renovation about twenty years ago). Some memories perhaps need to stay in childhood – but also, I doubt the new version could ever live up that 1970s vibe (which by my childhood was already over a decade old).

First Friday Rec: Binti

Title: Binti
Author: Nnedi Okorafor
Genre: science fiction, adventurous
Pages: 74
Publication Date: 2015
StoryGraph* Moods: adventure, emotional, hopeful
How I Stumbled Upon This Book: book club
Other Books by Okorafor: Death of the Author, She Who Knows, Noor, Who Fears Death, The Book of Phoenix, Lagoon, Kabu Kabu,
*StoryGraph also offers content warnings.

Description: Binti, of the Himba people, is the first of her kind to be offered a chance to attend Oomza University – which will require her traveling to another planet to study among strangers who don’t respect her or her customs. But Binti is up for the task, wanting to learn. Even if it means crossing paths with the Medusa, an alien race that is at war with the University.

Why I recommend this book: First, a SciFi book that is not European in origin/mythology/folklore/etc. – sign me up. I was excited to jump into a SciFi/Fantasy world set from Africa. Also, as a note, though I am writing this review of only Binti, I recommend the entire trilogy, including Home and The Night Masquerade. Okorafor does in seventy-four pages what most writers can’t do in hundreds. She has built an entirely new world, new magic system, wars even – not to mention an enriching and satisfying character arc for our main character.

Okorafor writes beautifully, laying out the system in a way that is easily understood, even in its complexity. The story itself, including our main character Binti, is utterly captivating – I read it in one sitting not because it was short, but because I couldn’t put it down. I then immediately requested the other two from the library (and gobbled those up, too). If you’ve never tried a non-European-based SciFi/Fantasy story, give this a try. It’s only seventy-four pages. What do you have to lose?

“They say that when faced with a fight you cannot win, you can never predict what you will do next. But I’d always known I’d fight until I was killed.”
~ Nnedi Okorafor, Binti

Farmers’ Markets

Not gonna lie, I’m not a huge fan of the summer months. I don’t like hot, humid weather. I’m allergic to everything that blooms. And I have to douse myself in a gallon of sun block any time I’ll be outside. You’re probably thinking I’m joking, but let’s just say this comic by the talented Sarah Andersen made me feel seen:

Artist: Sarah Andersen, Jun 18, 2016, embedded from Instagram (Click to see original post)

But there’s one thing that happens every summer that I look forward to (well, two if you include the drive-in theater opening up): I love a Farmers’ Markets. Specifically the Wednesday market on Broadway where I live. (Though I’ll hit up any market – I do not discriminate.)

I started attending this particular one a little over twenty years ago when I’d visit my friends who had a joint booth (they were just starting out as artists and selling their stuff – and they had a prime spot upwind of the kettle corn booth🤤). The market has changed a lot since then, but it’s still my favorite GB summer event.

Our market brings together (mostly) local produce (our blueberries come from Michigan 🤷🏻‍♀️), as well as artists, artisans, and music. I tend to go downtown first thing in the morning and write until the market starts up, walk the booths, and then find a spot to sit and read while listening to some live music. And I get to do this every single week. ❤

Well, except that one week when I had just sat down and opened my book – and tornado sirens went off. But hey, at least I had already bought my kettle corn. 👀😂 (And the tornado didn’t show up.) We’ve had two markets so far this summer, and it’s rained at both of them. The weather has become a bad over the years – Oh, it’s raining? Must be time for the Wednesday Market.

Do you have markets in your community? If so, what’s your favorite find there?

Pushy Story Ideas

On a day near the end of March, I was driving, and an idea came to me (I have a long commute, so this is not unusual). “They” say (there was a study that I read that I can’t find – but I’m still looking – so thus the air quotes around ‘they’) that we do our best creative work not when we are “at work” or “at rest” – but somewhere in the middle. In other words, sometimes, we can’t force ideas when we are sitting in the chair trying to create; but also that we aren’t necessarily going to find them if we just stop doing anything at all.

Instead, we need to be somewhere in the middle. This is why we tend to come up with THE BEST ideas when we are in the shower or doing the dishes or, yes, driving. Back in the day, I used to pull over on the side the shoulder of the highway, turn my flashers on, and grab the notepad that had taken up permanent residence on the passenger seat. Thankfully, these days, I can simply say “Hey, Siri, take a note” – and then dictate with the most over-exaggerated enunciation ever (and hope that he got it and that it will make sense when I arrive wherever I am going).

That day in March, I was driving through a storm (thankfully a rain storm and not snow), and an idea struck me. Well, a phrase struck me. “Hey, Siri…” I got to work, pulled out my phone, and checked the note. Then I scribbled down (old-school like – you know, with paper and a pen) a few more ideas. And then I found I couldn’t wait to tell my writing buddy about it (he liked the idea, which only bolstered the pushiness of it). I told him that I was going to wait for summer to write it, but the next day, at Kavarna for my weekly writing day, the idea would NOT SHUT UP. “Pay attention to ME!” it cried. So I texted my writing buddy that I don’t think I would last until summer (sorry murder mystery).

Sometimes, an idea strikes, and it just won’t let go until you get it down. Sometimes, it’s enough to create a notes doc and jot down the idea so that I won’t forget it. Others, an outline will spill forth. But this little idea? It refused to be anything less than a full draft. Thankfully, it’s for a picture book, so we’re talking less than 1K rather than a full 80K novel.

It’s just all so strange – ideas. The way one can take hold and just not let go. While another will wait patiently for its own turn (looking at you historical fiction novel). Have you had an occasion like this where you weren’t able to concentrate on anything else until that one idea made its way to the page? What are your tricks to try and info dump and hope for that idea to wait its turn? (Or are you someone who can write/thrives with multiple projects at one time?)