At Starved Rock

We made it to Utica/Ottawa/Starved Rock Illinois, and we are settled in for the next couple days. The cabin is the same one we’ve stayed in previous years, with a fireplace and a cozy atmosphere. The bathroom is a bit chilly to remind the occupants that this is absolutely a cabin.

Before we checked in, we wandered over to Ottawa to check out The Cheese Shop. It is actually a decent cheese shop and deli, and the lunch special was that specialty of LaSalle County — pork tenderloin sandwiches. The tenderloins here are thin and tender and crispy and bigger than the buns — all one wants in a pork tenderloin sandwich. Ottawa is decked nicely, and there’s a Kristkindl (sp?) market near the river that I wished I had time to wander. It will probably be gone by the time we get back Monday.

I am in the Great Hall at the lodge proper right now. There are massive wood tables and low couches in a rustic style that have to be over 50 years old, probably older. I’ve seem lots of hugs; families are gathering for Christmas.

This is the fireplace in the Great Hall. It is actually two-sided, but the other side is blocked off for a wedding or something.

There’s a little gift shop just off the lobby. It’s an eclectic blend of souvenirs, jewelry, t-shirts, and outfits for women of all ages certain age who shop. Not me, though; I’m pretty casual (and cheap). There are some flannel shirts I covet on one display rack and what looks like a big leather backpack which I really covet (but can’t afford). Ok, false alarm — the backpack is not leather.

There’s a young girl in flannel pajamas with her father who’s wearing his flannel pants as well, and a gingerbread house contest spread along a couple tables. I think the replica of the hotel wing of the lodge (Made by the Maintenance Department) wins, with the chalet in second place.

I’m supposed to write a romance novel about this place. I wish I had the guts to ask to tour the kitchen, because it’s part of the story. I do know, however, what commercial kitchens look like and how they operate, because I spent my college years in them as a prep cook and my thirties volunteering as a head cook for a soup kitchen.

I have discovered that there is a paucity of outlets in the Great Lodge and the cabin, but there are (or at least were) a bevy of writing desks somewhere on second floor of the hotel section that probably have outlets. I’m going to have to give up my scenic view before long because my iPad is down to 36 35% battery.

Maybe some more typing (I might actually write some of the story) and then a dip in the hot tub and a nap or enjoying the fireplace in the cabin. It’s going to be a relaxing Sunday for sure.

Christmas Vacation

We’re on our way to Christmas vacation tomorrow!

I’ve spoken of this before — I’ll be going to Starved Rock State Park in Illinois, to spend five days in a cabin celebrating the season. The holiday comes with nearby Utica (‘North Utica’ according to the maps) and Ottawa, towns that have managed to not be too touristy despite their existence as a day trip out of Chicago. I often call Ottawa a great campus town without the campus.

The park (as you can see here) is scenic in the winter, with frozen waterfalls and canyons throughout. Hiking is a little hazardous without good boots, however, because sandstone bluffs are bad to fall off of.

The area has a good Christmas feel. The downtowns don’t have a lot of missing businesses, the streets are decked with lights, and last time we were there there were ice sculptures melting on each corner. They might have snow when we arrive there Saturday.

Ottawa is a great place to eat. Among our favorites are Lone Buffalo (a brewpub), B.A.S.H. (Upscale casual fusion — the name stands for Burger and Sushi House), and Sunfield Restaurant (breakfast). There’s also an indie coffeehouse called Jeremiah Joe’s. There should be more, but there are not.

One place we’re going to discover while we’re in Ottawa is the Cheese Shop. Yes, that is its name. It is, not surprisingly, a cheese shop and deli. I encountered it many years ago on a hike on the Illinois-Michigan canal path. I dropped off the path and ended up right at the Cheese Shop. But it’s hard to find, tucked over in obscure Ottawa side streets. I haven’t been there in, say, 20 years but it’s still there. They might have the famous Polancic tenderloin sandwiches (a local delicacy) for lunch.

There’s also decent window shopping in Ottawa and Utica. I’m not much of a shopper, but I love window shopping. There’s a decent bookstore in Ottawa; a winery in Utica, various little shops.

We’re going to visit my sister and her husband while we’re there. Not a lot, because my sister is more of an introvert than I am.

It should be a busy few days, but I expect some time in the cabin to watch the fire in the fireplace, or in the Great Hall to enjoy a bigger fire and people-watching. Hopefully some time to write, as my next Kringle adventure will take place there.

Happy holidays!

Almost Writing Again

I think I have the idea on how to re-re-revise this year’s Kringle novel. It’s going to be a little flexible with reality, but not in an unrealistic way. No, that didn’t sound so intelligent. Let me try again. I will have to introduce a slightly unrealistic scenario, but not one that requires a massive suspension of disbelief.

Oglesby Illinois – United States – April 26th, 2023: Exterior of the Starved Rock Lodge in Starved Rock State Park, built in 1933-1939, on a beautiful Spring morning.

The problem has been how to keep my aspiring writer in town and at the lodge for long enough that she actually has time for relationship development from meet-cute to growing interest to the peak, the misgivings, the breakup, and the reconciliation. The writing retreat has to be about two weeks long, and she’s not independently wealthy, so two weeks at the lodge isn’t something she can afford (even though it’s not exorbitantly expensive to stay there).

Enter an artist-in-residence program. This is not completely unrealistic; Amtrak had one a few years ago (that I desperately wished I was well-enough regarded as a writer to receive). There’s no reason the lodge couldn’t have this, and in the winter, which is not the prime tourist season. I know in reality that the lodge I am modelling this after never has a down time and thus would not sponsor an aspiring writer. But it’s theoretically possible.

In this scenario, my female protagonist, a writer, would be invited for a two-week artist-in-residence stay at the lodge, which would last through Christmas. During this time, she would give a book reading, talk to local aspiring writers, and write some features on the area. So she would interview the local Santa and visit the surrounding towns as well as the park. And she would fall in love with the executive chef.

How does she have two weeks for a writer’s retreat if she’s also college faculty? This is the end of her sabbatical, and she will go back to work after the break. Not unreasonable assumptions again.

I think this is doable. All I have to do now is write it.

A Snow Day at Starved Rock

I haven’t been to Starved Rock for the holidays for two years. I’m there now, sitting by the fireplace in the Great Hall, writing. There are children running around, and there’s enough snow outside that we’re in a winter storm warning. A promising start to Christmas.

Starved Rock is a state park in LaSalle County, IL, near where I grew up. Full of sandstone bluffs and trees, it is one of the best places to see fall color in the US and is picturesque in the winter. It can get horrendously busy at Memorial Day and Fourth of July, so I would not recommend going at those times. Come in the fall or winter, although if you want to stay at the lodge, reserve early.

Nearby Utica is a cute, tiny tourist town worth visiting and Ottawa is a college town without a college. We’re close enough to Chicago to get their tourists, which builds the local economy, but far enough away that the area is still uncrowded.

Today I don’t think we’ll go out in the snow. I may write here; I will sit by the Great Hall fireplace and possibly build a fire at our cabin. There’s a hot tub I might go in later, and maybe I’ll take a nap. I may be in the best place in the world for a snow day.

Anticipation — good and bad

American culture is built upon anticipation.

The foundling nation, in its Declaration of Independence, declared that its citizens had the right to the pursuit of happiness. Not happiness itself, but the pursuit of happiness with its implication that happiness will be at the end of pursuit.

The consumerist culture of America, likewise, is built upon this anticipation. Every commercial that sells a product or service hooks the buyer through anticipation. The scenario presented on the screen, the promised emotional experience becomes the commodity anticipated; the item purchased is merely the vehicle.

Christmas, likewise, is sold to Americans through everything from commercials to Hallmark movies. There must be family, of course; a big meal; a big tree with presents underneath; an admonition despite all the focus on accumulation that Christmas is in the heart.

The problem with anticipation is that it often builds into a fantasy against which reality can’t measure. The family get-together involves political divisiveness, or such lack of acceptance from parents that it’s made unbearable. The person tasked with making the big dinner grows resentful at the lack of appreciation and the pile of dishes. The presents don’t provide as much joy as expected. One’s heart isn’t feeling Christmas.

My Christmas doesn’t look like the one being sold on TV. My husband and I travel seven hours to visit my relatives, who do not greet us effusively. We have no children, and we leave our Christmas tree back home. We mingle with people celebrating Christmas and Hanukkah and many other holidays. The lodge we stay at is the only thing that looks like a Hallmark Christmas.

And I anticipate this escape every year, and it doesn’t disappoint me.

Holiday Travel

I didn’t write yesterday because I was on the road from the far northwest corner of Missouri to Illinois to visit my family and celebrate Christmas. I’m in town now, typing this at Jeremiah Joe’s in Ottawa, IL, watching children misbehave next to the Christmas tree in the big display windows left over from when this space was Famous Department Store.

I’m getting old. I’m talking in that way older people talk: “I remember when this was Famous Department Store …” It’s inevitable that, when one gets old enough to see things change, that one documents the change aloud. I don’t like admitting I’m old; there’s still that part of me that thinks younger men should be conducting courtly displays of mischievous intellectualism toward me, but I’m officially past my expiration date for that.

The white Christmas this year will be only in our dreams, given that highs this week will be in the 40s and there’s no precipitation in the forecast. I might be able to take a Christmas hike at Starved Rock State Park. I wonder if that’s a thing.

It looks like my dev edit has been delayed till New Years (thank goodness; I wasn’t ready for a Christmas present that would make me cry!) No, I know all of what I’m getting for Christmas, unless the universe decides to surprise me with good news about my writing.

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Yule was yesterday, Hanukkah starts tonight, Christmas is Wednesday. Good greetings to all of you!

The semester is winding down …

It’s finals week, and after I do some wayward grading, all I have left is the finals, which are multiple choice and computer graded. And then I will be done with the semester and get some quality time with my brain.

I wonder if I will feel possessed to write a new novel? I said I would back down from noveling because I have five I can release to the querying process. I could query — I think it’s been enough time. I could write short stories or poetry. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.

So my break will be at least partially a writing break. It will also be a research break, a class-tweaking break (most of this is, however, done). A sit and pet kitties break. A big coffee break. A sit at the massive fireplace at Starved Rock with a mug of Irish coffee break.

I’m looking forward to it.