Still at Cantata rehabbing and learning more about the place.

Located on 31st in Brookfield, it was founded in 1920 by the Daughters of the British Empire. Originally serving those of British heritage, today it serves all of those of different backgrounds, which is evidenced by this Italian girl here for rehab. 

I’ve been working on walking, getting up from a sitting position and stairs. Stairs are a big challenge but it’s coming along. I had been going to one of the stairwells and going up and down when one of the trainers (Robert or Roy) noticed an indentation in the wall. 

It hid a plaque designating a part of the building stating “BHH Infirmary Cornerstone was by Mrs. George Cooke Adams O.B.E. Founder and President of the organization on the 20th of September 1952 A.D.” 

It is apparent there have been additions to the building and this cornerstone was part of an original building and could not be removed. Too bad it is in a place that can’t be seen. Sorry Mrs. George Cooke.

When rehabbing or reading, and yes I am almost finished with the John Grisham book, there is television. 

Just when I thought we were through with political ads, we have the Chicago mayoral election. I have to remind myself we don’t vote for that one. Have my feelings who will win, but I’ll keep that to myself. 

Lots of furniture ads, Smithe in particular, featuring some Riverside residents. 

I have a breath machine to use. When I asked when I should use it, they said every commercial. Heck, I’d run out of breath. 

Coming up this week is Mardi Gras and I will miss celebrating it at Chew Chew, with Beads and Bananas Foster, a good way to celebrate. There is also the tradition of the King Cake, which has a small plastic baby doll inside. Tradition says the one who gets the baby doll will be king or queen for the year and have to bring the King Cake next year. Maybe Billy the Activity Person here has something planned for Mardi Gras.

I will also miss having a Hurricane, a traditional Mardi Gras drink. Maybe I will have a Mardi Gras celebration of my own when I get home, which by the way, is scheduled for later this week. That means this is the last column from here. I’ll miss the place and the people.