Molly and I drove to Chicago last Friday. We left Brooklyn at 10pm.
Eventually we made it to the North Shore, and ate here, of course.
It was Halloween, and we were monsters.
We saw an old friend, whose mother made this (as she did when we were little):
The house where I grew up.
The owner gave us a full tour. When we were in his bedroom his wife called. He told her I was there and we could hear her shriek from our end. I’m glad the people living there are nice.
The public beach, where I had my 7th birthday, a luau.
The Little House of Glencoe, where I had my 10th.
Kiddie cocktails at Tai Tai’s.
The Bahai Temple.
Chocolate chippies at Walker Brothers’. I thought that was just what my dad called them when I was little, but it’s the real name on the menu.
The first place I stole.