Looking Back

December 31, 2016 – Looking Back

Looking back, this has been a year of profound sorrow and exuberant joy.  Of course, Elliott’s passing in February made for a difficult start to the year.  But I’ve kept his strength and his spirit close to my heart and it has allowed me to embrace the happier moments that followed.  Being grandmother to Sylvie is an incomparable experience and I am so grateful to my daughter and son-in-law, who are marvelous parents.  I’ve taken advantage of the opportunity to travel once again, with trips overseas and within the United States.  As much as I love to travel, I love coming back home again and being in the space that Elliott and I created and shared for so many years.  Life has been good to me.  As I look ahead to 2017, I think I’ll be fine, but I admit to being concerned about the future of our country and our world.

On a personal level, the year ended on a positive note.  My mother, Katie, celebrated her 91^st birthday in late December. 

Katie celebrated her 91st birthday with a glass of sparkling cider.

I spent a wonderful weekend with Elisa, Christian, and Sylvie at Christian’s parents’ home in Yorktown, where we celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah all together.  This past Friday, I got together with friends from Annandale High School for a visit to the National Gallery of Art to see the superb Stuart Davis exhibit. 

A 1928 painting done during the year Stuart Davis spent in Paris.

One of Davis' "egg beater" paintings

Swing Landscape, 1938, by Stuart Davis

And, I’m happy to report that I met one of my major goals for this past year:  I read an average of one book per week.  In fact, I completed reading the 53^rd book a couple of days ago.  Not all of the books I read are worthy of mention in this post.  However, since I know many of you welcome reading suggestions, I’ll go ahead and provide you with titles of the books I would recommend.

Fiction:

News of the World by Paulette Jiles – a gem of a book set in the West during the post-Civil War period.

Another Brooklyn by Jacqueline Woodson – a short novel of coming of age in Brooklyn, told in a unique voice.

Razor Girl by Carl Hiaasen – a wildly improbable and funny novel set in Florida.

March by Geraldine Brooks – based on the life of the father of Louisa May Alcott and his Civil War experience.

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi – spans several centuries with a setting in West Africa and the U.S.

The Never Open Desert Diner by James Anderson – mystery set in the Utah desert.

Miss Emily by Nuala O’Connor – poet Emily Dickinson and her Irish servant girl.

My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout – short novel, beautifully written.

Epitaph by Mary Doria Russell – historical novel set in the Wild West.

The Last Painting of Sarah de Vos by Dominic Smith – two narrative threads: a woman painter in 17^th century Holland and a contemporary art copyist.

The Improbability of Love by Hannah Rothschild – a fascinating look at the contemporary art world.

The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd – abolitionist Sarah Grimke and her slave companion in pre-Civil War period.

Still Time by Jean Hegland – a Shakespearean scholar’s descent into Alzheimer’s.

The Vanishing Act of Esme Lenox by Maggie O’Farrell – set in modern-day Scotland.

Memoirs:

American Born Chinese by Gene Yang – a graphic book for young adults.

Negroland by Margo Jefferson – growing up Negro middle-class in the 1950s and 60s. 

On My Own by Diane Rehm – the recently retired public radio talk show host chronicles the loss of her husband and the year following his death.

Funny in Farsi by Farioozeh Dumas – an Iranian girl growing up in America.

Other Non-fiction:

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari – fascinating and easy to read.

The Only Street in Paris by Elaine Sciolino – life on the rue des Martyrs.

Also, on the topic of books, I want to mention that Portrait of Elliott, the book I wrote about Elliott’s life, will be available in a couple of months as an e-book and a paperback.  I’ll keep you posted on the progress. 

Best wishes for a happy and healthy new year.

Discovering the California Desert

December 17, 2016 – Discovering the Desert in California

I’ve just returned from a road trip to the California desert, where I discovered national parks, museums, good food, and warm weather!  Getting out West always reminds me how huge and varied the country is.  My friend Gale and I met up at the airport in Las Vegas and immediately set out on the road to Death Valley.  Right away, I was struck by the expansive nature of the sky and the landscape.  I’m so used to being in a densely populated area that it seemed strange to be away from crowds of people.  Also, coming from the East coast with its abundant trees, I found the desert quite desolate at first.  However, I soon learned to appreciate its particular beauty.  

Our hotel in Death Valley Junction (population 281) was the quirky Amargosa Hotel, part of a rambling structure that also houses the Amargosa Opera House and a surprisingly excellent café where we enjoyed sumptuous breakfasts.  

Sunrise in Death Valley Junction

Our main activity was touring nearby Death Valley National Park, which is enormous.  We spent most of the day driving through the park, stopping periodically for photos and short hikes.  We took a walk on the salt flats (yes, I sampled the salt) at Badwater Basin, the lowest spot in North America at 282 feet below sea level. 

If you’re from my generation, you may remember the television commercials for a laundry detergent called 20 Mule Team Borax.  I learned that Death Valley was originally settled as a mining town, and we saw a deserted mining facility, the Harmony Borax Works, in the park.  Mule teams were used to haul the borax to the railroad lines.  The Death Valley mines were abandoned decades ago when borax was discovered much closer to existing railroad lines.  When we stopped at a roadside “museum” in a small nearby town, we learned about the many uses of borates, which include fiber glass, ceramics, agriculture, glass, flame retardants, flat screen televisions, and more.  So it’s not just a laundry detergent! 

Abandoned mine in Death Valley

Our next stop, four hours away, was Pasadena.  Much to my surprise, I was the designated driver on the California freeways, and I managed quite well.  (At home, I’ll go miles out of my way to avoid driving on DC Beltway.)  We made an unscheduled stop for lunch when we saw billboards near Yermo advertising Peggy Sue’s 50s Diner.  How could we pass up tuna melts and pie?  And the decor alone (think Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, etc.) made the stop worthwhile. 

Since dining options in the Death Valley area were limited, we were delighted to discover the variety of restaurants near our hotel in Pasadena’s Old Town.  At Shandong Dumplings, we chowed down on veggie dumplings and a tasty eggplant dish.   

Dumpling makers at Shandong Dumplings

The next night, we sampled Tibetan-Nepalese fare, which was similar to northern Indian cuisine.  We spent our last morning in Pasadena loading up on carbs at a Korean bakery.   

Breakfast goodies (the very dark roll is colored with squid ink)

And I mustn’t overlook the very proper and delicious high tea that we enjoyed at the Huntington Library, Museum, and Botanical Gardens.  Although their rose garden was past its peak bloom, it was still fragrant and colorful.  We made a stop at another museum, the Norton Simon, where Van Gogh’s painting of his bedroom was on loan from the Art Institute of Chicago.  

On the fifth day of our road trip, the skies, which had been overcast in Death Valley and Pasadena, brightened as we neared Palm Springs, our final destination.  Right away, we fell into the relaxed atmosphere of this small desert resort.   We strolled through residential areas admiring the mid-century modern architecture, wandered in and out of shops on Palm Canyon Drive, and watched the sun drop behind the mountains late in the afternoon.  Faced with Palm Springs’ abundance of restaurants, we had the difficult task of deciding where to eat.  Fortunately, we had time for three dinners:  Mexican food at Rio Azul, Italian at Sammy G’s Tuscan Bistro, and fresh fish at Lulu’s Bistro.  There was even a decent museum in Palm Springs, where a special exhibit on the art of the American frontier was the main attraction.   

Looking out from out hotel in Palm Springs

The highlight of this phase of our trip was the day we spent at nearby (an hour’s drive) Joshua Tree National Park.  The park covers an area where two different types of desert meet and overlap.  We spent most of our time in the western section of the park, which lies in the Mojave Desert.  With elevations above 3000 feet, the Mojave is considered a high desert.  In addition to the ubiquitous Joshua tree, you’ll find scrub oak, yucca and prickly pear cactus in this area.  Rattlesnakes, jack rabbits and big horn sheep live in the Mojave but we didn’t see any of these animals during our visit.  The eastern half of the park lies in the Colorado Desert, a low desert, with elevations below 3000 feet above sea level.  This is actually part of the much larger Sonoran Desert.  You won’t find any Joshua trees here.  However, you’ll find creosote, cholla, and ocotillo growing, as well as palo verde trees.  

I'm standing next to a Joshua tree.

In the Mojave section of the park, we hiked a rugged mile-long trail that was described as “easy” in the park brochure.  I hate to think what a challenging trail would be like!  We also took a short hike up to Keys View for a panoramic vista that included the Santa Rosa Mountains, Coachella Valley, the San Andreas Fault, and the Salton Sea. 

An "easy" hiking trail

The following morning, it was back to reality.  We were up early and out of the hotel at 5:30 a.m. to catch our flights back East.  I’m glad to be home but the bitterly cold weather was a shock! 

Hello, Blog. Remember Me?

December 2, 2016 – Hello, Blog.  Remember Me?

With Sylvie, on Thanksgiving Day

Yes, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve posted to my blog.  I’m not quite sure why.  I’ve thought a lot about writing these past few months.  I’ve even scribbled some notes.  From time to time, I’ve been on the verge of writing a blog post but something has kept me from committing myself.  Fear of exposure?  Being unwilling to confront the confusion I feel?  Some twisted sense of virtue through self-denial?  I honestly don’t know.  Sometimes I’ve felt like withdrawing, just hiding in a “safe” place so I don’t have to deal with things I don’t understand. 

Maybe it’s partially a reaction to the change of seasons.  I recall, in past years, feeling a sense of impending doom as the hours of daylight grew shorter.  Ever since September, I’ve had to fight off the desire to burrow away until spring returns.  I’m usually okay during the daytime, so I’ve kept up with my activities – class at GMU, fused glass at the Workhouse, lunches with friends. 

There have been a couple of unwelcome reminders that I’m aging.  Back in September, I was touring a historic plantation in Alexandria with my friend Kathy.  When I was exiting the mansion, the toe of my shoe got caught in an old-fashioned rubber tire tread doormat at the bottom of a flight of stone steps and I tumbled to the ground, landing first on my right hip and elbow.  Although I was in some pain, my first reaction, after disbelief, was annoyance – this wasn’t supposed to happen!  I am not an old person!  Then I mistakenly assumed that I’d feel fine in a few days.  Hah!  It was more like four weeks before I was pain-free.  I spent a good deal of time practicing patience and developing an appreciation for the fragility of my physical condition.   

And just two days before Thanksgiving, I wreaked more damage on my poor aging body.  Actually, I was hurrying to catch a train in New York City’s Grand Central Terminal.   As I ran down the ramp, I suddenly found myself airborne.  Of course, a few seconds later, I crashed onto the platform, striking my shoulder and knee pretty hard.  For several seconds, I was too stunned to move.  I must compliment the EMT team at Grand Central.  They showed up right away, checked me thoroughly, and didn’t make me feel like a complete idiot for thinking I could fly.  Aside from a few twinges in my shoulder, I’m already feeling back to normal.  But I no longer take my physical health for granted.  I could fall apart at any second, without any warning – which makes me realize how remarkable Elliott was.  I doubt if I’ll be climbing up ladders and traipsing around Europe when I’m in my 90s. 

And speaking of Elliott, the finality of loss is hitting me hard.  I miss him a lot.  There’s so much I’d like to share with him.  He wasn’t here to see the brilliant colors of the leaves this fall.  He wasn’t at our Thanksgiving table.  He hasn’t seen Sylvie running and singing and dancing.  I think he’d be pleased to know that I’ve acquired some new practical skills, such as learning how to put air in the tires (and to take air out when I’ve over-inflated them).  It’s hard to accept, on an emotional level, that he’s not coming back.  And there are brief moments when coping with all the details of life on my own seems overwhelming.  Eventually, however, I step back, take a deep breath, focus on one thing at a time, and realize that I’ll be fine.