On the corner of a busy street is an old building that used to be an auto-repair shop. You could see that is used to be beautiful; tall decorative cement sculpted ornaments adorned the front, but its windows had been covered with plywood and it housed broken cars.
Now it had a new brick exterior, a lovely blue-grey, and the cement ornamentation had been cleaned. It look gorgeous, although not completed. I crossed the street to get a closer look at the permits posted to see what it would be. A woman stood looking up at it.
"This place is beautiful," I commented. "What a difference."
"Thank you," she said.
"This is yours?"
The designer was also there, and she introduced me. He gave me his card and they told me the plans for the place: it's going to be an art gallery and public space, and the city is going to bump out the curb so that people can sit. It sounds great. They told me I could come back and take a tour of the inside; the way they described it, it's fantastic.
Then to the bank, then to the lake. After a short ordeal with a microfilm machine and city bureaucracy, I headed to my old building to meet a former co-worker, who had agreed to scan the document for me and email it to me. We're having lunch tomorrow.
I headed back, enjoying the bike through The Loop towards the bike path, which is far less death-defying when it's not rush hour. I stopped at a women's restroom along the bike path. Chicago still maintains its old brick public park bathrooms, and can I just say, the place was clean, and there were soap and paper towels.
When I emerged, it was raining. Ok. I kept biking, turing off at Foster to head up Clark. At Devon I went to Clark-Devon Hardware to get some sanding supplies, and when I got out the temperature had dropped 10 degrees. It was CHILLY. I pedaled home as fast as I could, freezing in my tank top, shorts and Tevas.
Finished one of SP's birthday presents, ate some watermelon, and now it's time for bed.