Postcard from Chicago

Here is what you need to know:

1. I am alive. The same cannot be said for certain other super-famous people with whom baby boomers kinda identified and kinda disidentified, but we are so far behind the curve on those stories that we are not even going to try to weigh in.

2. Goose is taking excellent care of me in Moose's absence. Proof: She texted Moose this afternoon to see if I had been given my heartworm/flea pill for this month and would it be okay to go ahead and give it to me if I had not. Moose wrote back to say, yes, give the pill, but make sure Roxie understands flea pills are merely palliative. She is still on hospice care. Dog lives, so fleas must die. Goose dutifully conveyed the message and the pill, wrapped in liverwurst.

3. Moose is in Chicago, having survived her dual-conference, double-paper week and apparently having convinced the community of Willa Cather scholars that Cather would have made "one heck of a blogger." That, really, was the argument of her paper, which was greeted with laughs in all the right places and a warm round of applause at the end. Moose was so pleased with her efforts that she ate an omelet and went to the Art Institute of Chicago, to see its glorious new Modern Wing. She took her camera along so that she could send us one of her occasional photo essays, because in her heart of hearts she is still a yearbook editor. Wevs, kids. It's a little eye candy for you, just so you don't forget us!

Pritzker Garden, looking up

The Modern Wing, looking out

Lurie Gardens, looking over


(Photo Credits: Moose)