Making a torte is supposed to be a piece of cake, but I decided to buy one to celebrate Torte Day because Cole and I were off to the Chicago Air and Water show. Over 2 million people flock to the shores of Lake Michigan for the event. It is the oldest and largest free show of its kind in the United States.
A crowd of 2 million is too many people to mingle with, so I bought tickets for Cole and me to view the air show from Navy Pier. The day was gorgeous, and the ticket price included good food, comfortable seats in the shade, and a great spot to watch the jets swoop through the air at death-defying speeds. (the link I provided is to Goldstar-kind of Groupon for events. It’s a general link. I have been very happy with their deals)
Many years ago, I worked on Michigan Avenue and was able to watch the air show participants practice on the Friday before the event. One year, the Blue Angles decided it would be fun to fly their jets down Michigan Avenue. I happened to be walking back into my building as they came barreling down one mag mile and then went straight up in the air and back over Lake Michigan. Windows shattered and the Blue Angels/ Demons got in trouble, but I’m pretty sure they thought it was worth it and anyone who witnessed it thought so too.
Cole told me he wanted to skydive as we were watching the air show. “Really?” I asked. (‘Really’ is such a great word. It’s non committal, acknowledges the comment and doesn’t stop the flow of conversation). He then asked if I would give him permission to skydive when he is 16 ˗ a tattoo is looking better and better. I said probably not, and reminded him that he was my one and only. He grinned and told me it would make a great blog post. I grinned and asked him to come up with ten reasons why jumping out of a plane was a good idea. Can you even imagine standing on the ground, watching your 16 year-old jump from an airplane with your permission?
I let him go hot air ballooning,
I let him go rafting,
I let him drive on Chicago city streets,
but I am not signing a waiver so he can jump out of an airplane. Really.
Here is a picture of our store-bought torte. The torte was very tasty, but I am not ‘tortally’ convinced that is better than a piece of chocolate cake with pecans.
This is Emily’s pecan caramel cake ‘err’ torte OR perhaps torke–a cross between a cake and a torte.
Time for me to muse along. I hope you will leave a comment with your tortes.
Odd Loves Company.