Pssst. Hey - yeah, you. Wanna buy a can of bug spray?

 

Remember last winter? Who doesn’t?! That endless icy blast of Mother Nature that coated our sidewalks and front steps with potential lawsuits. Back then, the toughest find in Tosa was salt (or ice melter.) No matter who you talked to, conversations always came around to: “So, do you know where I can buy some salt?” Neighbors would call each other with hot tips on a bag or two of calcium chloride.

 

Fast forward to today and there appear to be a couple of items that are really tough finds here in Tosa. One is weather-related and one is not.

 

Thanks to the torrential rains of June, our alternate state bird, the mosquito, has overtaken Wisconsin. I’ve been to two outdoor parties recently and the most common activity at both was the slap dance. You know the one where you jump around and hit yourself while trying to have a social conversation? It’s fun…and annoying!

 

Well, if you haven’t already stocked up, mosquito repellant is virtually impossible to find. Target on 124^th and Capitol was completely out. Not a can to be found. Walgreens was down to its last two cans – seriously. You’re going to have to score one in a back alley somewhere…or find a friend who will share.

 

Another hard-to-find item is the newest game for the Nintendo Wii – Wii Fit. This hot new exercise game is getting rave reviews for combining fun and fitness. I love fun, but I’m not so big on fitness, so anything that will combine the two is a winner in my book.

 

The problem is, there isn’t a Wii Fit to be found. Ask at any local electronics retailer and you’ll get an eye roll and a shake of the head. This morning, Target was advertising the game in its Sunday paper insert. My husband and I arrived at 9:00 am. “Sorry, we’ve been sold out since 8:10.” Oh well.

 

So, I’ve been checking Craig’s List and bidding on eBay, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be Wii Fitting anytime soon.

 

As far as the bug spray, well, my daughter just returned from her trip to Appalachia with a couple of extra cans. Hmmm….think I can put those up for sale on Craig’s List?

They call this time of year March Madness, and that, I love. If you give me a choice, I will always choose college basketball over the NBA.

 

In college, every game, give or take a cupcake or two, means something. The players play from the tip-off to the final buzzer, leaving it all out on the court.

 

In the NBA, they start to bring their A-game, oh in about April, so you still have some time to rest up for the playoffs. (Oh wait. There won’t be any playoffs here in Milwaukee. More about that later.) A typical SportsCenter highlight of an NBA game consists of nine guys standing around, while one guy shoots a three-pointer…uncontested. Yawn.

 

One final thought on the NBA here in Milwaukee. Is anyone else as bewildered as I am that the Bucks continue to run their print ads in the sports section with the tagline: The Milwaukee Bucks – Where Amazing Happens? Right. Amazing as in “it’s amazing that the general manager didn’t get fired until this past week.”

 

Anyway, like so many others, I have filled out my NCAA brackets. I expect to be soundly beaten by far more savvy college basketball experts and probably somebody’s 10- year old daughter who chose winners based on uniforms. Nevertheless, I find it endlessly entertaining.

 

Along with March Madness, we are also having one of the earliest Easter Sundays in many, many years….and it’s snowing…a lot. Gone are those dreams of taking walks in new spring apparel while we happily gaze at the blooming daffodils. Not gonna happen this year. That, my friends, is the true March Madness.

 

For many years, my family and I have had a tradition of playing the soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar in our car pre-Easter. I guess because it’s the perfect soundtrack to the season. I vividly remember buying this album in grade school and being very worried that the nuns would confiscate it and send us to confession. They actually liked it…and to this day, so do I. It never fails to impress me with its brilliance and beauty.

 

And so, on that note, I leave you, my readers, with an Easter egg of my own. (Not to be confused with a hidden bonus feature on a DVD.) If you click on this link, you’ll hear one of the gifts that my kids gave our family this past Christmas. It’s a recording of “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” from Jesus Christ Superstar. (I know – shameless offspring promotion.) This just seems like the right time to share this. My daughter, Maria, on lead vocals, my son, Dan, on harmony and guitar. (They're going to kill me. Oh well.)

 

Enjoy and Happy Easter!

  

What’s bugging you more? Dirty snow like this…

 

Or icy sidewalks like this?

 

For me, it’s the spring tease. Our hopes are raised and then quickly dashed.

 

This morning I took the dog out as always, pre-dawn. Expecting to be hit with the usual icy blast, instead, it felt practically balmy. Back inside, I checked the thermometer – 39 degrees. Yes!

 

Honestly, my “nice weather” standards have hit an all-time low. When I’m cheering for high-30s, you know that it’s been a long, cold winter.

 

Last weekend, we were told to “spring ahead” and move our clocks up an hour. If that’s not a sign that spring is on the way, then I don’t know what is. But the reality is, spring will show up when it wants to – probably in June.

 

In the meantime, we’re stuck in this hellish, endless circle of thaw, freeze, thaw, freeze…Walking outside means taking your own life into your hands.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I headed down to my mailbox to return an already-viewed Netflix selection. I took a step and ended up flat on my back. Luckily, only my derriere and my ego were badly bruised.

 

Truth be told, I actually don’t like spring. It’s messy, not nearly warm enough and serves just to raise our hopes, which will quickly be destroyed with the first freakish spring snowstorm.

 

Yet, I can’t help feeling a little bit optimistic that summer might again visit us…eventually. You know what they say – hope springs eternal.

Besides the fact that we’re annoying each other, a little tired of being land-locked and our cabin-fever is at an all-time high, another undesirable by-product of this record-breaking winter is that we’ve become a household of sickos.

 

(A nod to Christine for her inspiring post.)

 

We are doing what I call trading illnesses. With our son gone at college, there are three of us in the house. At any one time, at least one of us, often two, have a cold or the flu. Don’t worry. I’ll spare you the grim details.

 

We’re going through Kleenex faster than water. There’s hardly enough decongestant in all of Tosa to stop our noses from running. We throw away our toothbrushes weekly. We spend our many trips to Walgreens wandering the aisles in search of something, anything that might provide a secret, miracle cure. (Yesterday, I seriously considered a Neti Pot . That’s how desperate I am.)

 

I have visions of calling a service, something along the lines of an exterminator, to tent our entire house and fumigate it from the germs that are apparently embedded in our walls, sort of like toxic mold.

 

I no longer listen for the sounds of creaking floorboards to know that my family is awake. Now it’s a cough and a few sneezes to announce their awakening.

 

We wash our hands so much that they’re raw to the touch. It’s obviously not helping.

 

I have daydreams. They involve a beach and warm, sizzling sun. Something to bake the bugs until they shrivel up and die.

 

I know it’s only a page turn in the calendar, but I too am really glad it’s March.

I can’t stand this winter, not one moment more.

I’m throwing in the towel, the shovel and the door.

I’ve had it with snow, there’s just no room to throw it.

Our snowblower's great, but there’s nowhere to blow it.

My back, neck and arms ache from hoisting the snow.

Sure, the plows and chiropractors are making big dough.

The cold is persistent, there’s not an end in sight.

Each day takes an effort, no scratch that, a fight!

Our cabin fever has reached an all-time high.

We’re all going crazy, we’d all like to cry.

The ice dams are growing, the icicles are scary.

The path to my front door is treacherous and hairy.

My sidewalks and car sport a layer of salt.

There’s no point in this whining. It’s nobody’s fault.

Still I can’t help complaining. It helps when I vent.

I point to the heavens and ask someone to relent!

I’m tired of slipping and sliding on ice.

It’s hard to be upbeat, when you’ve fallen once or twice.

No, grouchy’s the way I will still stay until summer.

There’s no doubt about it, this winter’s a BUMMER!

 

This is it. The weather that makes or breaks Wisconsinites. It’s not just the temperature. Sure, it’s 4 below zero with negative double digit wind chill. It’s the whole kit and caboodle.

 

It’s not the beautiful, fluffy snowflakes that start in late November and make us think Christmasy thoughts.

 

It’s not the dense, backbreaking snowfalls that leave us plowed under but make our kids giggle in anticipation of snowman-building and a trip to the local sledding hill.

 

It’s the thaw. Followed by the freeze. Followed by the rain. Followed by the sub-zero freeze.

 

It’s what I call Mother Nature’s big tease.

 

We know better. It’s January, for goodness sake. But still, 46 degrees and an early viewing of our lawn makes us daydream about spring. You walk outside and you can smell things again. You start to visualize your garden. You make promises to walk more often. You consider taking up running. Silly, silly you.

 

Wait a minute, it will change.

 

And honestly, that’s what I like about Wisconsin. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I spent my freshman year of college in balmy Florida. It was an idea borne of very little information. One of those things you assume is a great idea. And it was, for a while. But the weather never changed. I never appreciated the good, because I always had it. I missed the change in seasons. I missed my family too and eventually decided to make Florida a vacation destination and not a residence.

 

Even today, I’m still glad. I like the idea of hunkering down and popping up my collar and grinning and bearing the weather. Sort of like hitting yourself on the head – it feels so good when you stop.

 

And while I’m patting myself on the back for the fortitude, I make a personal promise not to get excited next month when the temperature reaches 50 degrees. Because it will...but it will not last. And that’s OK.

I was one of the 72,000+ who stood outside Sunday night and had their heart broken.

 

Yes, it was very cold, but no it wasn’t horrible. (The weather, not the game.) Being a mom forces me to hyper-prepare. The extra coats, long underwear, hats, hand-warmers and tights that seemed like overkill pre-game, were blessedly welcome mid-game.

 

Besides the final score, my primary disappointment was in my battery-powered socks from Gander Mountain.  A colossally bad purchase. Thank goodness for the feet heater/liners installed at halftime.

 

It was exactly the kind of game I hate. I’m always mystified when people say that they love a close game – a real nail-biter. Not me. I’ll take a blow-out any day.

 

Fans and booze. What a bad pairing. Stuck in my mind forever will be the sound of two drunk fans screaming at each other post-game. One was angry (an understatement) because the other kept standing throughout the game. Dude, it’s a football stadium. Did you really expect that we’d all stand and sit in unison? Standing Man was taunting and promising to do things that I wished my daughter didn’t have to hear. It was such an ugly end to a cold, bleak evening.

 

Looking on the positive side, we’ll regain some normalcy in our local media. We’ll get our front page back and no more Mike Jacobs and Carole Meekins giggling like 5-year-olds in the Lambeau Field Atrium. Amen to that. I love the Packers, but even I was so done with that.

 

To those of you who read this and say: "Karen, it's just a game," I say, I know. In the universal scheme of things, this was just four really bad hours. But fanhood is a fickle mistress. There is nothing so addictive as a universal belief in the same goal. Nothing to match the roar of a giant crowd when things go well. And nothing more stunningly silent than a full stadium that has just been handed defeat.

 

So on the day after the Packers and Marquette let me down, I need to change perspective and move on. And so I say….

 

Go Brewers!!!

 

Millie and I (see above) just returned from a walk on Menomonee River Parkway. I do my best blog-thinking on these walks and today was an outstanding day for such a venture. Here are just a few of the gems that popped into my head as we walked:

 

Let’s hear it for the weather – clap, clap, clap, clap. Fall is, hands-down, my absolutely favorite season. Today is a spectacular example of why I love this time of year. The weather is cool and crisp, the bugs are gone, the sun is shining brightly and there’s a crunch with every footstep. Bravo Mother Nature.

 

Every time I walk Millie on the parkway, I’m pretty sure I’m violating some county ordinance. I know this because there are a few well-hidden signs that say NO DOGS ALLOWED. I’m guessing this is because of a few crummy dog-walkers who have not picked up after their dogs. You know who you are. Or maybe you don’t because you are one of those elite runners that allows your dog to run behind you unleashed. You’re moving so fast that you don’t know when your dog stops and leaves a souvenir on the pathway. In any case, I think the parkway should be open to well-managed, leashed dogs and their owners. I think we can coexist with the runners, the walkers and the stroller-pushers.

 

Today while walking, I heard a voice behind me say: “Coming up on your left. I have plenty of room. Thank you.” This was a courteous cyclist. It was also shocking to hear. I’m used to bikes whizzing past me with no warning. They can see me, but neither I nor my dog can see or hear them. The dog gets startled when they suddenly appear and then the cyclist gets mad when the dog inadvertently lunges in their path. If you’re riding behind a dog walker or anyone, give notice. Buy a bell. Give a shout out.

 

Maybe it was just a tease, but it sure looked like there were road repairs going on just west of Church Street on the parkway. Could it be that the infamous potholes are actually being fixed? We can dream, can’t we?

 

There’s nothing like a couple of early spring days in the 70s to drive Tosans outside and walking. Like many of my neighbors, I took advantage of the balmy temperatures these past two days to give my dog a little extra exercise. Virtually every sidewalk and parkway path were heavily traveled by walkers, runners, cyclists and, of course, dog owners. The only minor irritation was the dog walker who decided that his two Golden Retrievers could run leash-free along Menomonee River Parkway. They didn’t really bother anyone, but his bold disregard for the law was unwelcome by most people that saw him.

Nevertheless, there was something incredibly liberating about this unexpected weather bonus. As I wound my way up and down streets, I couldn’t help but notice what a great community Wauwatosa is for pedestrians. Abundant sidewalks, interesting homes and friendly faces make every walk a welcome cure for cabin fever.

I’ve put off writing this, because I’m one of those people that really tries not to complain about things that I can’t change. And this is definitely one of those things I can’t change, although trust me, I definitely would if I could.

OK, here it is: I’M SICK OF WINTER. Seriously, I’m not sure how much more I can take, although actually, I guess we’ll all find out because, like I said, there’s not a flippin’ thing I can do about it.

But because blogging is sometimes about venting my spleen a bit (sorry for the gross metaphor), I just needed to get this off my chest and every other part of my body.

The icy finger of winter has surely given us all that it’s got this year. In past years, I always welcomed spring with open arms. Although that whole melting-still-cold-dirty-streets thing isn’t the best. And if, like me, you own a long-haired dog, you might actually miss the cold, dry and frigid days when you don’t walk back in your house with a dripping canine mop.

Nevertheless, I miss being able to smell. I miss green. I miss wearing less than two layers of clothing. I miss being able to wear the same shoes inside as I do outside. I miss wanting to go for walks. I miss the outdoors, and if you know me, you’ll know that this is a landmark statement coming from an avowed pop culture addict and couch potato!

I know there are lots of you that are enjoying the winter. I’m happy for you, really, because I do believe that you’ve gotten shafted in the past few years. I hope you are skiing, snowmobiling, sledding and showshoeing to your hearts’ delight. I’m even glad that our kids got a couple of long-awaited snow/frigid days off of school.
 
But I’m ready. I’m ready for a change of seasons. I really do love every season, but I’ve pretty much wrung every last ounce of wintery fun out of this one and I’m quite anxious to move on. How about you?

Welcome to Ice Dam season in Wisconsin, or as I like to call it Damn Ice Season. (Pardon the salty language.) I don’t know about you, but our gutters are heavy with frozen stalactites alternating between states of dripping and foreboding, ready to attack unwary visitors. As I drove around today, I couldn’t help but take an icicle inventory of Tosa homes. It seems like we’re not alone in our demonstration of the harmful effects of poor insulation. Of course, this is nothing like the winter we had several years ago when roofing companies made a nice chunk of change from homeowners like us that would pay to get rid of this winter menace. We also had substantial damage to walls and ceilings once the dams started to melt. This, of course, resulted in us needing to repaint practically our entire first floor. I do know that roof scrapers and heating coils can be effective in preventing ice dams, but if you're like us and your roofline is well out of reach for an average ladder, well, you're kind of out of luck. Ah, winter fun. It never really ends, does it?

Well, we just had our second significant snowfall of the winter. From the looks of the sidewalks of Tosa, most of us are prepared to carry out our snow clearing duties. Some, however, are falling short. It’s not really a surprise that it’s going to snow and we’re all going to have to dig out, shovel or clear lots of the white stuff. We live in Wisconsin. What is a surprise are the homeowners that seem to think that if they turn a blind eye, the snow will simply melt. And it will…in three or four months. Unfortunately for those of us using the sidewalks, that’s just simply not soon enough.

If you look at the City of Wauwatosa web site, you’ll see that there is a City Ordinance stating that snow must be cleared by noon the day after a snow or ice accumulation. That’s 24 hours, regardless of whether you hate the cold, never use the sidewalks or are out of town. In fact, if you know you’re going to be out of town, you need to arrange for someone to clear it for you. Don’t assume that your friendly neighbor will take care of it every time. Oh, and “clearing snow” doesn’t mean you wait for people to trample it down and then decide it’s already taken care of. Grrr! Contact your neighborhood association for the names of neighborhood kids willing to shovel for a nominal fee. Or open up your phone book and call a company to do it regularly. Either way, it’s YOUR responsibility. Take it seriously.

My other dig is against those that live on corner lots. If this is you (and it’s me too, by the way), then your responsibility is not just to clear the sidewalk in front of your house, but get out there and dig out the curb leading to the street. I just returned from walking my dog and some of the frozen cliffs that I had to scale just to cross the street are not only irritating, they’re dangerous.

I understand that dealing with snowfall is frustrating, especially when it happens repeatedly. As my husband once explained to me, it’s like mowing the lawn one day and finding it grew back the next. But people, we live in W-I-S-C-O-N-S-I-N. This is what we signed up for when we bought a piece of Flatlanders’ Paradise. Let’s all dig in to dig out.

For the first time in several years, it's a SNOW DAY!! Hunker down? Not me! Give me a blizzard and I can't wait to get out and about. Perhaps it's my all-wheel drive vehicle or maybe it's the thrill of being one of the few silly enough to brave the elements. Nevertheless, my daughter and I headed over to John's Sandwich Shop this morning to revel in the unexpected holiday and enjoy a hearty breakfast along with many other Tosans. The place was jammed and there was a wait for a table. The counter was good enough for the two of us and it was fun to watch the giant smiles on the kids who could hardly wait to break out those dusty sleds and snow tubes. No doubt the sledding hills will be packed today!

As we drove north on Ludington Avenue, it was strange to see a deserted town, except for the occasional snow blowing citizen trying to stay ahead of the accumulation. On this snowy morning, just the fact that we were daring (i.e. stupid) enough to slowly cruise the Tosa streets merited a friendly wave and a smile from a bundled up fellow pushing a Toro.

Upon returning home, I found the real reason for loving snow storms. There is nothing cuter in the falling snow, than an energetic Golden Retriever bounding through the snow with a tennis ball. Don't you agree?

What about you? Do you love or hate the snow? What's your favorite thing to do on a snow day? E-mail me at westsidestoriestosa@yahoo.com and share your winter adventures!

It isn't pretty but this pile outside my front door this morning looked suspiciously like...snow! My husband and I (and much of Wauwatosa) were awakened this morning at 5:00 am by the sound of golf-ball sized hail pounding down upon our house. I guess this is just nature's reminder that winter is just around the corner. I don't know about you, but I'm not really ready. Then again, I never am.

You know it’s autumn in Wauwatosa when you see the start of leaf piles on the side of the streets. In mid-September, they’re modest little mounds, sometimes highlighted by remnants of geraniums, impatiens and other varieties of expired annuals. By the end of October, they’ve grown in girth and are topped off with a pumpkin and a gourd or two. By early November, they’re the size of a small bungalow and create challenging “street slaloms,” much like those found on the east end of North Avenue, as mentioned by fellow blogger Norm Wahn.

When I was a child, leaf piles were a seasonal joy. They were so fun and tempting to jump into. But those were the days (jeez, I sound old) when the piles were on our lawns and my dad would burn them to get rid of them. In Tosa today, we’re advised to rake or blow them to the side of the streets where they will eventually get picked up by the city. It’s a great system, until you have to drive around these mammoth piles late in the season when they’ve been combined together on narrow streets like Ludington where two cars can barely pass each other on a sunny summer day. Caution and braking are definitely in order. And if you’re new to the area (listen up, Mitch!), do not even think of parking on top of or driving through a leaf pile. I know, it’s tempting when parking is scarce and you might have to walk an extra half-block to your house. But the sight of your car bursting into flames might make that walk seem shorter. And the thought of plowing through one of those piles sounds fun, but it can be really, really dangerous.

In a community blessed with so many trees, perhaps leaf piles, although sometimes annoying, are merely our seasonal reminder that it’s time to slow down and enjoy the view. It is spectacular, after all.

Hector’s Merely Smoldering…According to one of my blogfriends, Hector’s Mexican Restaurant is not doing as well as it may have seemed during my last visit. So, that leads me to ask: What’s wrong with you people? Aren’t you hungry? Seriously, this has to be one of the most affordable restaurants in Tosa. The food is good, they have a full bar, featuring great Margaritas, and the place is very casual and extremely kid-friendly, if that’s what’s holding you back. If you ever avoided it because of smoke, now is the time to show your support and have a great meal.

Is It Possible to Catch the Bus?.....Is it just me, or does it seem like the city buses that go through Wauwatosa think they’re immune to the speeding limit? I see buses all day long on Milwaukee Avenue, where the speed limit is 25 mph and I can assure you that there’s no way they are going 25 mph. More like 40 or 45. This is a narrow street traveled by lots of kids on their way to and from school. I’d like to suggest that they park one of those cute little speeding trailers out there to give the drivers a hint, but I’m told by my friends that this is a sure way to lure more speeders or kids on bikes looking to create a mini 'Tour du Tosa' and clock their speed, sometimes resulting in crashes and injuries. (True story.) I’m all for staying on schedule, but please bus driver, give us a brake!

A Sure Sign….I know it’s Fall. Not because the temperature has dropped today, but just because the giant oak tree on the corner of Menomonee River Parkway and Charles Hart Parkway is starting to change color. This stunning tree signals the start of autumn with its golden hues and vibrant colors. It’s worth a look. You’ll find it on the northwest corner, but wait a week and it’ll really be a sight.

Don’t Look Up Now…I haven’t been able to confirm this, but someone once told me that birds are incontinent, which makes the idea of watching the birds fly south for the winter something to be done with care…and perhaps an umbrella.