The Sandwich Life

Hidden in the Open

Driving back from Iowa we came across this beautiful little church not far from Peoria. I was mesmerized. Ernie, not so much. I kept saying, "Isn't it beautiful?" and he finally said, "I don't have to love everything you do Cynthia." I took this to mean he was getting tired of stopping and just wanted to get home. So off we went. But, it IS beautiful. And I never would have dreamed there was an 1830's Catholic church in the area. So many things hidden out there...

On Saturday, August 24, 1839, the Peoria Register and North-WesternbGazeteer carried the following story written by Samuel H. Davis, editor and publisher.

At the West end of Kickapoo Town the corner stone of a Catholic Church was laid a few weeks ago, and the building is now in the progress of erection. We understand that the donors felt encouraged to enlarge the design since the work was commended, and that the building when completed will be of most respectable dimensions. We are under the impression that there are very few persons of this religious denomination among the settlers in that township, though we doubt not that the erection of this house of worship will be the means of drawing together a considerable society.

According to St. Mary's in Kickapoo, which later absorbed St. Patrick's:

The ground for the church, and for the cemetery that surrounds the church, was donated by William Patrick Mulveny, a native of Dublin, Ireland. The grave of Mr. Mulveny lies just a few feet South of the church. Men and women of Kickapoo built the church. Timbers were hand hewed and pegged. The sandstone was quarried near Joliet, Illinois and hauled to Kickapoo by oxen cart. The men laid the stone while the women mixed the mortar.

St. Patrick’s Church remained the only Catholic Church in the area until 1861. At that time the German Catholics purchased a former Episcopalian Church in the Village of Kickapoo. This became St. Mary’s Church. Mass was offered in both churches until 1921 when the present St. Mary’s Church of Kickapoo was built. The two parishes were then combined and Mass was no longer offered in St. Patrick’s Church on a regular basis. St. Patrick’s Church was, more or less, abandoned and allowed to deteriorate until the early 1960’s.

At that time the Bishop Rosati Council, Knights of Columbus, in cooperation with several other Knights of Columbus Councils in Central Illinois, requested permission from Bishop John B. Franz, then Bishop of Peoria, to begin a restoration program for the church. In granting permission, Bishop Franz wrote the following words of encouragement. “It is gratifying to know that the Bishop Rosati Council, No. 5034, Knights of Columbus is willing to sponsor this project by soliciting the cooperation of K. of C. Councils throughout the Peoria Diocese in an effort to raise the necessary funds, I readily endorse this project and wish you every success in your efforts.” With these words of encouragement the work was begun.

While no one had to “handhew” timber or “quarry” for stone in the restoration program, it did involve many hours of backbreaking labor for the men of the area who volunteered their time and talent. The restoration program took three years and two months to complete. A rededication ceremony was held on the Feast of All Saints, November 1, 1964.

Today, the church still stands as a tribute to those who brought the faith to this part of the world, and to those who for thirteen decades have preserved the faith for the present generation in the Kickapoo Area. Perhaps the spirit that moved the pioneers to build the church in the 1830’s and which inspired their descendants for many generations to worship in the church; and, which encouraged the local residents in the early 1960’s to restore the church to its original state, is best reflected on the stones in the cemetery that surrounds the church. The weather-worn tombstones record the pious sentiments of the bereaved and thoughts of humble resignation and trusting faith. Through these messages cut in stone the pioneers speak to us now separated in time by many generations.

Wandering

The truck pulled up next to me. "Do you know that building?" the man asked.

"No," I said, "I just like taking pictures of old buildings."

He nodded his head and was quiet. I asked him what it used to be. "The back was the bank, and the front here was a store. It was the whole center of town." He paused a minute, then said,  "It was built in 1913. It needs a lot of work. I've had it about fifteen years and it just keeps going down. I was in a car accident and I'm lucky to be alive." I said, "We all are, we all are," and he nodded in agreement. We chatted for another minute. I thanked him for telling me about it. He drove off, and I kept taking pictures.

Across the street, next to a well-kept house.

And down the street. Other than this there were a street or two of houses and trailers. Stillwell, Illinois. We drove on a gravel road to get to it. Ernie's not always thrilled with my routing.

The only living thing we saw, other than the woman who asked Ernie if he needed help as he was waiting in the car for me, and my friend that I chatted to, was this creature.

Decatur, Tomatoes, and Aaron Lee Tasjan

I met a friend for lunch in Decatur the other day. I swear, I almost crash the car every time I drive by this sign. Oh, Busey. I shake my head. Really, what were they thinking? Was that sign somehow meant for a much bigger building and they just slapped it on this one by mistake?

I stopped at Del's Popcorn Shop and got some cheese popcorn for Owen, because, well, you have to support that sign. And it gives me a chance to walk by some of my favorite window hoods I (just behind the sign). And look, I managed to crop the Jimmy John's sign out of the picture! Mostly I just sat and listened to my friend, who is going through a nightmare of a time, while we ate lunch. I love her dearly, and despite the rotten reason for seeing her, it felt good. Going home I blasted Aaron Lee Tasjan, listening to Dime over and over again. I've decided it's my anthem. You should always have an anthem, and this is currently mine. (Side note: I'm still holding a bit of a grudge against Ernie and Owen that when they came back from seeing Aaron Lee at Space they didn't even have, I don't know, a fucking signed NAPKIN or something for me, but I'm trying really hard to be adult and let go of that. But, but, but, surely there was SOMETHING on the merch table they could have gotten....)

 

Oh, ok, I'll go ahead and post the pictures I've been meaning to but didn't because I was pissed at them. I'm TRYING not to hold a grudge.  It was only when Owen didn't want to share his pictures from the night with me that I blew. And I get that too...wanting to keep something to yourself. I try to be good, but sometimes I don't have it in me. Anyway, good GOD but I love Aaron Lee, and could that bass player be prettier?

You can tell Owen is thinking, "For God's SAKE, just take the picture Dad."

Owen hyperventilating earlier in the day at Chicago Music Exchange.

Ok, done, now back to current day... later that afternoon and evening I didn't feel great. I'd had wine over the weekend, and that doesn't always agree with me, but it felt like it was getting worse, rather than better. That night I couldn't sleep at ALL, and I was itchy, itchy, itchy, getting up in the middle of the night to change to see if that would help. Yesterday I just felt lousy, bleary and fuzzy. I met somebody I didn't know at Art Mart that morning, and I hope to hell I sounded coherent. Later in the day, as I sat in Avionics with my beloved Sasha, we were chatting about food and our respective intolerances and the like, and it suddenly occurred to me...WAIT, I HAD TOMATOES YESTERDAY! I felt so relieved to have figured it out. A few months ago, after the elimination diet, I tried reintroducing tomato and had immediately reacted to it. So I mournfully wrote tomato off. However, in the past month or two, I'd had a random cherry tomato or two on a salad when we went out, so I thought I probably was ok now. When I had lunch with JoAnne, I was too busy talking to think about it, so although I avoided the croutons and onion in my salad, I happily ate the big slices of tomato without thinking.

WELL. Damn. I mean, maybe down the road I can eat it, after all, I still hold out hope for garlic, but I guess tomato is off the table for now. I was incredibly relieved to have figured it out. I was beginning to google my symptoms worriedly. It was bad enough that right now I don't even care that I can't eat them. Come August it might be a different thing, but then again, supposedly fully ripe tomatoes have fewer lectins (which is why local is so good for us) which might make it bearable. We shall see. 

So, onward. Happily tomato-freely and AaronLee-lovingly onward.

More Cemetery Love

Had a lovely day exploring more cemeteries on Saturday. Beautiful day. I'm lucky to have friends point me in the direction of different cemeteries and places. 

And this tree...and this fence. Oh my heart.

I thought this might be a symbol from some kind of fraternal organization. There was another one like it. It's on a women's grave though, and I couldn't find anything online. Anybody know?




Happy infant, early blest

Rest in peaceful slumber, rest

Cemetery Throwdown

When I'm in a bad mood, I say to Ernie, "Let's go for a drive." It doesn't solve everything but it puts me in a different place and lets me process things differently, and I'm usually a little easier on myself. So, yesterday, mid-afternoon, I said, "Let's go for a drive." I had a cemetery exploration throwdown from a friend, so we headed over there. We had to walk through a field to get to it. We looked at it from the road on one side and it was awful muddy from all the rain we had the other day. We went to a different road and thought, "Well, huh. Maybe." So we pulled the car over and hiked over in the wind, trying to find weeds to walk on to save us from sinking into the mud.

I stood there in the middle of the muddy field looking at the gravestones from a 19th-century family. It is primarily the graves of Alexander Boyer (1825-1868) and his children, as well as possibly a sister, Merica Ann Boyer Clouser (born 1833), and her children, two of whom died just weeks apart in 1854. She had a daughter two years later, who lived until the 1880s, but she herself died in 1858, when her daughter was two and she was only 25. Her husband married again and lived into the 1920's but is buried in Mansfield. Oh, I found references to Alexander Boyer as a farmer, teacher, and judge. His wife, Hannah Duckett Boyer, didn't seem to have a stone there that I could see, but some were toppled and of course, some could be missing entirely. I could totally go down a rabbit hole following this family. I will try to restrain myself. It is somewhat magical to me that in the middle of this cornfield a few miles from here could be so many stories.

Dolly, Daughter of A. G. and H. Boyer, Aged 4 mos, 21 days.

 

Friends, Dinner, Band Practice, and the Who

We had our dear friends Roger and Ceal over for dinner last night. They are lovely, lovely people and had been really kind, supportive, and HELPFUL with my photos during the Boneyard (which are still up at 25 O'Clock for the time being) so we'd wanted to have them over as a thank you. Since I planned dinner when it was snowing the night before, it was kind of a cold weather meal; grass-fed beef pot roast, mashed sweet potatoes, and a salad. Strawberries for dessert. 

I'd bought a couple of gorgeous Japanese sweet potatoes at Green Top Grocery in Bloomington last week. I cooked those and mashed them with one regular sweet potato. I love both kinds of potatoes. The Japanese ones have purple skin and a creamy, denser interior, but have a cleaner taste to me. The regular sweet potatoes we buy have a warmer, softer taste, but the combination was delightful, especially with some 'gravy' I made from reducing the cooking broth of the pot roast. After all that we needed a nice springy salad, so I used some spring greens, avocado, and the delightful sprouts and edible flowers I'd bought, also at Green Top, from Eminence Farms. Utterly wonderful.

And we talked and we laughed and we talked and we laughed. Owen's band came over so he left to go downstairs to practice with them. We talked for a bit more before Roger and Ceal left. We even cleaned up more than we usually do. It was a good evening. I am so grateful for my friends.

And lastly, ever since buying the beautiful microgreens and flowers from Eminence Farms, I have had the who's Eminence Front in my head. Oh, the circles of life, huh?

 

Christmas Wandering

I'm fighting to stay awake today. I don't know why. I didn't sleep wonderfully, but that's not unusual. The grey day perhaps. The Christmas break laziness continues. It's not really the squalor of Christmas past however, there are no Lego creations taking over the dining room table, no boxes or toys all over the floor. Just the normal messiness of our house. Our tree may not make it to Epiphany....it seems to be folding its lower branches up like an umbrella. The boys alternate from blaming me for too many lights and ornaments, to not enough water. Regardless of cause, it seems to be my fault. Life as a mother. Today Owen told me I fart a lot. That Ernie burps a lot and I fart a lot. This from the child....well, I will not go into it. It is indeed a good thing I adore them so.

Leo's at work, Ernie and Owen are off on errands relating to Owen's new guitar pickup. I am torn between dozing, reading, or picking up. Don't lay any bets on the second two. Before I give in, or fight it off elsewhere, here are a few pictures from a wandering drive the other day. My friend Rayne had recommended Le Roy for Christmas decorations and she was indeed right. I always forget what a nice town Le Roy is. I need to go inside the library next time....such an intriguing building, and I should go back later at night for better pictures. For now however:

Random Notes from the Sandwich Life

1. This doesn't really make sense to me, but my sense of smell seems to be much stronger of late, since I started the elimination diet. Of course this leads me to complaining about the scented trash bags poor Ernie bought, but other things, like really smelling the sweet, woody scent of a parsnip peel are delightful. Anybody want to posit a theory?

2. I've always been a Christmas girl, but this year I am ALL about Christmas. Something about feeling like there is light at the end of the tunnel, I suppose. It turns out is is DIFFICULT to schedule tree decorating when one has teenagers with jobs and finals. We're late this year but we have it planned for Tuesday. Right now, the tree just has lights, but I might put beads on it tonight. That is allowed.

3. Ernie and I have been doing lots of drives and wandering through the country of late. It makes me feel more like myself.

4. In Reintroduction World, things are moving along. The chocolate went ok, but I did get headaches and a stuffy nose after I ate it, so we're putting that in a wait and see category. The strawberries went fine, but I am sad to note that frozen strawberries just aren't that exciting. I still have to decide what to have the day after tomorrow. Should I chance a nightshade? Peppers or tomato? Another tough choice. Oh, or I could go with hemp seeds. I know, the decisions are intoxicating.

Random Pictures from A Saturday Drive

I worry about these tiny little Midwestern towns. What is going to happen to them?

Meandering

The drive yesterday did help cheer me up. We headed over to Decatur to check out the Wabash Depot Antique Mall's open house. We drove through the country on county roads to get there, and on the way we drove through Cerro Gordo. I stopped to take a picture of a nice building but I got real dizzy and cut off the top of it so no picture. I took a picture of tree glowing red, and another building that is a lesson in bad window replacements. Then we passed a storefront that had the Don't Tread On Me flag and something else that looked vaguely white supremacist, so we moved along. 

We got to he Wabash Depot and managed to get through the whole place without spending any money although I was tempted by a couple things that I didn't need at all. Nice railroad views from the windows and the women's bathroom had great windows, and there was a group of musicians playing old country songs. Such are the small pleasures of life.

After that we just drove around Decatur, with me periodically yelling, "turn left," or "turn right," when I saw something of interest. There were some other antique/flea market kind of things but we were done. Ernie's limping from his leg stuff (come on MRI) and I am hobbling with joint pain...hopefully this new diet will reduce some of my inflammation and help with that all. As Owen said recently, "It's as though you guys were fine, and then you just suddenly got old." I have assured him we both will get better.

Nothing makes me happier than wandering around looking at old building, so it made for a lovely afternoon. I gasped in delight when I saw all these windows looking back at me.

Some more buildings near the train station:

Note the sign that says Illinois Central Freight Station:

And last, but not least, a nice old neon motel sign.

We got home and curled up, reading and computering. I threw together a half assed dinner that turned out pretty good actually. Diced baby bok choy and zucchini (best zucchinis in the world from Farmer Greg) with some curry powder and coconut milk...added some fish sauce, lime juice, and the last of the bay scallops. It needed a bit of sweetness, so we served it over rice, with diced fresh apple on top. Here's a not so beautiful, but tasty bowl that I had for breakfast. Now I'm off to research recipes.

Onward.