Memoirous

Now is your best chance to find my book, Orphan Girl: The Memoir of a Chicago Bag Lady, available for HALF OFF at @Smashwords as part of their Annual Summer Sale! Find my book and many more at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/chicagojane      all month!  Review "A homeless woman's story reminds us of the need to consider the suffering of others. Hertenstein's narrative . . . is a gift to us." Chicago Tribune, Sunday Book Section, March 15, 1998 From the Author I had known Marie for about ten years before I did her story. She was a bag lady--not homeless as she had an apartment she shared with a number of cats. Marie could be seen daily pushing her cart around the neighborhood picking up stuff put out for trash and giving items away to people who needed them. Whenever she saw me she'd say, "Jane, someday I have to tell you my story." And I'd say, "Sure Marie, someday." Well, during one of those exchanges we actually set up a

                                              Plant garden [x] Heat wave [x] Multi-day bike ride [x] Grill-out with friends [forthcoming] I’ve been making a list of things to do now that life and work have reached an equilibrium. I’ve gone through my floor training and now can work on a more reliable schedule and have figured out where the MSU Dairy Store is. I love taking bike rides in the cool of the evening. My grandson and I take bike rides in the morning and count bunnies. Yesterday on a walk we spied three deer quickly disappear into a woods. Right now trying to figure out a date for a backyard picnic with friends. I just don’t want to get to the end of July and ask myself—Where has the time gone? What have I done this summer? This weekend there is a Meridian Township celebration with fireworks. Whenever I see the signs I’m reminded of the Talking Heads film True Stories where a small Texas town has its  "Celebration of Specialness:" where even the mundane deserves a sp

Summer is Coming  This week we celebrate the solstice and a heat wave. Since switching jobs and getting up to speed at my new one, I’ve been able to experience much of the late spring/early summer this year. Biking, running, picnicking on the back porch. Of course, baby holding. We’ve already been to the splash pool at Hawk Island. Last night I had some work pals over for homemade ice cream on the back patio. We sat and chatted while the machine churned. It was so nice to enjoy company in the cool of the evening. So despite the heat, get outside. Summer is coming.

 My Little Corner Has a bicycle, a garden, and a little boy. There’s an ice cream maker on top of the bistro table and chairs arranged in a circle. We sit in sunshine and shade. On the lawn are stray toys: bubble wands and balls, a pickle ball racket rests under the hammock. A baby on a Bumbo, a toddler in the sandbox, a squirrel at the bird feeder. Laundry lines the patio drying on racks. My little corner is crowded.

I watched the Hulu original documentary Brats—and I’m not even sure if I’ve ever watched a John Hughes film. I’m maybe ten years older than that genre of youth films from the 80s. I’d graduated from Ohio University and had moved to Chicago to work at an inner-city mission. While TV had been invented (hahaha)—we didn’t have one. Maybe one—a console that was carried around from floor to floor, though it wasn’t meant to be portable—mainly used for parties and special occasions. Not sure why I watched the doc, but it sounded interesting to hear how people at a certain age handled fame (this was before social media could destroy you with one post) and the effect of a New Yorker article titled Hollywood's Brat Pack,” by David Blum (first appeared in the June 10, 1985, issue of New York Magazine). The Brats actually reminded me of the New York School—a loosely organized group of poets, painters, and writers/thinkers that congregated together in the lower East Side of New York in the 50

The Machine Has No Clothes has been reprinted (again) by Coin-Operated , a zine project out of Scotland. About Coin-Operated: Coin-Operated Press CIC is an artist-led social enterprise run by Chloe Henderson. We are based in Scotland, where we facilitate creative workshops, host zine fairs, manage the DJCAD Zine Library, create educational zine content, and produce, publish, and distribute collaborative zines every month. This particular issue is all about Sustainable Fashion. We are celebrating Earth Day 2024 with this zine all about sustainable fashion: a movement that encompasses efforts within the fashion industry to reduce its environmental impacts, protect workers producing garments, and uphold animal welfare. In this zine, you will find floral dress designs, upcycled shoes, handmade boob bags, a how-to make-your-own patches tutorial, a rubbish song, a recycling project in Namibia, fashion collages, beautiful embroidery, and much much more! This listing is for the dig

I’m nearing three weeks of training at my new job—soon to be let loose on my own. Right now I’m training for the sales floor, fitting shoes, etc. Let me just say now—everyone has their own particular foot. The FBI uses fingerprints, forensics use dental records to ID bodies. All someone needs to do is take off their sock and I can see right away what distinguishes this customer. So, I’m getting used to doing diagnostics and suggesting different kinds of shoes. At this moment I’m not getting a lot of hours, hoping that changes soon. I’ve gone back and forth with myself whether to let management know that I actually need to be scheduled more. Between bouts of anxiety about money, I’ve also been enjoying the relaxed feel of this spring and early summer. I have time to read and catch up with writing without cramming it in. I have moments without the pressure of “having to do.” I can wake u and not have to rush to get things done before riding off to work for 8 hours a day and come home

I’d camped here before and really enjoyed the leisurely packing up and getting going—by 7:30 I was off. Very slow. I kept stopping to adjust. It was chilly and again drizzly. In Itasca I got a chance to use my immersion stick to heat up water and make a hot tea. I ate a bar and tried to knock some of the built up yukka on my bike that accumulated due to rain and being on a gravel and broken asphalt path. It was more than a baby wipe could handle. I was on mostly roads. Dewitt turned into a long gravel segment, but again the rain made it a hard-packed surface. My butt and thighs were sore and I had to keep stretching while in the saddle. It was a lot of miles for a spring ride, first of the year, without a lot of training. Again, ate lunch in St. Johns and purchased a Gatorade for the last push home. There is the gravel path to Krepps, a mile or two of hard surface, then 2.5 miles of gravel, then maybe 5 more miles on asphalt with rollers, ups and downs. By the time I turned off f

I scurried to set up my tent for stealth camp just minutes before the storm hit. The weather cleared the park, but also meant I didn't set up beneath a shelter like I'd intended. I got the tent up and clambered in with my stuff to sort out inside. Water unfortunately got in and I had to deal with that as well as residual clamminess. There was nothing to be done about it: It was a soggy night. But, quiet after the storm. In the a.m. I had to pack up wet and sort've wet stuff. I ate hot oatmeal at the shelter and used the restroom before leaving at 7:30. It was hard going. I was supposed to follow Fallasburg Park road to eventually meet up with Flat River trail, but ended up on Lake Lincoln Hwy, which seemed busy for a Memorial Day morning. I took McPherson to get on the trail which is "recycled asphalt"--it was horrible stuff. I only made maybe 8 miles an hour on it. It was like riding on a broken down roadway. I continually had to keep gearing down and my bo

I rode through cottonwood drift falling around me like snow from the sky. Beside the path white and fuchsia wildflowers bobbed their little heads. The day was warm but not too hot; the sky was blue dotted with clouds—but I knew that storms were predicted for later on! In St. Johns bathroom doors were locked, drinking fountains dry. I ate a little and then rode on, using the Shiawassee Trail. At Fowler I texted a work mate who lives in Ionia to see if he wanted to meet up. Yes! He rode to Lyons where we went on to Saranac. I’m glad Jeff was with me as the trail, though level and scenic, can also be a bit boring. After Jeff turned around, I was a bit tired and took a break before starting the road part of the trip to get to Fallasburg Park. The road went up, leaving the river. It was about 11 more miles to the park. The North Country trail also goes through the park. Right before the park is what Wikipedia describes as an abandoned village. Established in 1837, it went into decline