Home Work

August 14, 2015 – Home Work

A temporary halt in travel has allowed me to get a lot of work done at home.  One of the most ambitious projects is producing an annotated photo inventory of Elliott’s artistic output, at least those paintings currently stored in our house.  (There are several works in private and museum collections that won’t be included.)  Over the years, we’ve shipped dozens of his paintings back and forth across the Atlantic.  They’ve been wrapped in heavy brown paper, wrapped in thick plastic sheeting, unwrapped, and re-wrapped on several occasions.  Since we can’t display all of them in our home, the majority of the canvases have remained in storage, under conditions that range from ideal, i.e. temperature-controlled facilities, to the decidedly less than ideal.  In fact, we found that moisture had irreparably damaged a number of paintings a few years ago, and Elliott chose to destroy them.  It was a sad, sad day when he sliced the canvas off the stretchers.  

While I expected it to be a time consuming project, I didn’t realize how physically demanding it would be.  Most of the paintings are quite large and the wooden stretchers, which Elliott built himself, are extremely heavy.  It takes two people to handle the labor.  Marshall and I have to haul the paintings from various locations around the house to my studio, where we unwrap, measure, set up for photos, record information for our spreadsheet, discard old paper wrappings, rewrap in plastic, label and finally move them to a new downstairs storage location.  Marshall is in charge of photography and photo editing and I’m in charge of updating the spreadsheet. 

Of course, even though Elliott can’t participate in the physical activities, he is very involved in this project.  Seated in his chair, Elliott provides Marshall and me with vigilant supervision and vocal direction, except when he dozes off.  I anticipate completing the inventory within the coming week.  However, this is just phase one of a much more comprehensive project, i.e. finding homes for all of his art.  Elliott has already contacted people in the arts world who may be interested in donations of his work, most of which was done from the late 1960s through the late 1970s. 

It was quite an experience seeing the paintings again after they’d been hidden from view for decades, and I’m hopeful that others will have an opportunity to enjoy them soon.  

Elliott explains the mathematical naming scheme for his paintings.  This is Two 28, one of his smaller works. 

More Adventuring

August 7, 2015 – More Adventuring

It’s good to be home again, after another trip up to New York.  Actually, this was a very quick trip, less than 48 hours on the ground, but I packed in visits with multiple friends and family members.  Of course, I also squeezed in some good eating, starting with a cone of Shake Shack frozen custard (blueberry sweet corn – the delicious flavor of the week) before I even checked into the hotel.  That’s right - no camping out on Elisa and Christian’s sofa in Brooklyn this time!  When I found out that my friend Gale was flying up from Florida to see a couple of Broadway shows, I offered to share a hotel room with her.  Like a real tourist, I stayed in the theater district, in the Row Hotel, which was a new experience for me.  We stayed in that neighborhood for dinner, checking out the offerings during a stroll down Restaurant Row – another first for me.  Since it was one of those rare summer evenings when the temperature and humidity were bearable, we dined al fresco at a Brazilian restaurant – sangria, salad, and shrimp and mushrooms in a light coconut milk sauce served in coconut shells.  Touristy, perhaps, but fun nevertheless. We saved a little room for a slice of cheesecake from Junior’s on our way back to the hotel.  Really, it was Gale’s idea.  I only had a few nibbles, to help her out.  

With Gale on Restaurant Row (W. 46th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues)

The good eating continued the next morning.  Continental breakfast was included in hotel rate.  I don’t normally eat pastries, especially early in the morning, but the selection, from some of the city’s top bakeries (François Payard, Balthazar) was irresistible.  After careful consideration, I selected a brioche sprinkled with slivered almonds.  The first bite into the rich dough subtly flavored with orange peel was pure ecstasy. 

While the morning got off to a great start, not long after breakfast, I got a rude shock.  I was at Penn Station, purchasing a rail ticket for a ride out to Long Island for a mini-family reunion with my brother and sister-in-law (driving down from Westchester County), my aunt (in from Florida) and my cousin (in from New Hampshire).  When I inquired about the fare, the young ticket seller’s query, “Senior?” caught me totally off guard.  Was my advanced age that obvious?  I'd taken care to draw on eyebrows and freshen my lipstick, and I certainly wasn’t flashing my new Medicare card.  Hmmm. 

As for Long Island, I no longer have a sense of connection with the place although I grew up there.  I stayed only long enough for lunch with the family at a Greek diner.  Then it was back on the Long Island Railroad, this time traveling to Brooklyn for a visit with Elisa, Christian and Sylvie.  My new granddaughter has grown quite a bit and she’s much more alert and aware of her surroundings.  In addition, Elisa is feeling much better now and has more energy.  She and Christian are thrilled to be little Sylvie’s parents.  And Miss Sylvie has it all figured out:  Mommy supplies the yummy milk, available 24 hours a day, and Daddy provides the perfect perch for snuggling and sleeping (see photo below).  

That evening, we celebrated Sylvie’s 3-week birthday with a take-out dinner from Karloff, a Russian restaurant on Court Street.  Karloff is a food lover’s paradise.  We feasted on potato varenikis (dumplings) in a creamy mushroom sauce, arugula salad with Bosc pears and goat cheese, a salmon-herb burger on brioche bun with rosemary fries, Scottish salmon with white bean/plum tomato/baby arugula succotash, pan-seared trout with caramelized cauliflower and buckwheat kasha risotto, and cheese blintzes with wild berry jam.  I could barely stagger to the subway station on the corner after the sumptuous meal. 

The following morning, there wasn’t time for much more than breakfast (yes, another brioche) and a quick walk down Broadway where Seward Johnson’s life-like sculptures fill the pedestrian plaza between 41^st Street and 36^th Street.  Included in the temporary installation of 18 painted bronze sculptures are some based on Impressionist paintings.   

Can you tell which figures are the sculptures and which ones are real?

Unfortunately, I didn't make it to the High Line or the new Whitney Museum on this abbreviated trip, but I’ve already put them on the agenda for my next trip later in August.  

I covered a lot of territory during my short stay in New York.  The only downside was that I ran out of reading material.  I had brought along a library book, a murder mystery set in early 20^th century Vienna, that I started on the trip up.  It was over 450 pages and I was sure it would take me several days to get through it.  However, the novel was so riveting that I couldn’t stop reading it.  I forced myself to save the last hundred pages or so for the bus ride home.  As soon as I sat down in my seat, I resumed reading and finished the book three hours before the bus reached Virginia.  If you’re looking for a book that’s extremely well-written and entertaining on several different levels, I highly recommend A Death in Vienna by Frank Tallis. 

And how about Elliott?  Well, Elliott is getting used to my vagabonding ways.  Since he doesn’t want anyone staying in the house while I’m away, he makes his own breakfast (without using the stove) and goes out for lunch or dinner with one of the boys.  He fills his waking hours with reading the newspaper (minimum 1 hour), watching daytime television (local news, Let’s Make a Deal, etc.) and taking a long afternoon nap.  Post-dinner, Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy round out the evening.  By 8 o’clock p.m., he’s getting ready for bed.  And to make sure he didn’t starve while I was out of town, I presented him with a bag of giant marshmallows – one of his favorite treats – prior to my departure. 

Elliott eats a marshmallow. 

Adventuring Close to Home

August 1, 2015 – Adventuring Close to Home

I didn’t have to go far from home for my recent adventures.  On Friday, I abandoned all my cares and responsibilities for a few fun-filled hours with friends Kathy and Michelle.  Our girls’ day out started with a visit to the Textile Museum, recently relocated to a beautiful new building on the campus of George Washington University.  Their current exhibition is called Unraveling Identity and includes a wide range of textiles, some dating back over a thousand years and others created in the 21^st century.  It’s a fascinating exhibit that focuses on the role of textiles in establishing personal, cosmopolitan, religious, spiritual and political identity.  The exhibit is on view through August 24.  

One of the many gorgeous textiles we saw at The Textile Museum.

We also saw GWU's Washingtoniana Collection, housed in the same building.  It's a small exhibit about the founding of the District of Columbia, complete with maps and documents and some interesting historical tidbits.  Did you know that the Residence Act of 1790 provided for a federal district and that George Washington chose the location, which lay at the precise geographic center of the United States, from north to south, at the time?   

This Gilbert Stuart portrait of our first President is in the GWU Washingtoniana Collection.

Since we were already in the Foggy Bottom area, we had lunch at Beefsteak, the new José Andres quick, veggie-centric, locally sourced, cooked-to-order eatery.  The beefsteak “burger” was the perfect summer sandwich – a thick slice of ripe beefsteak tomato, fresh mozzarella, pickled red onions, sprouts, and caper mayo on an olive oil brioche bun.  It was gloriously messy and absolutely delicious.   

Nothing says summer like a juicy beefsteak tomato burger from Beefsteak.

Such a wonderful main course deserved an equally wonderful dessert, so we set out on a quest for gelato that brought us back across the Potomac to The Italian Store in Arlington, Virginia.  First, we browsed through the aisles of Italian cheeses, cookies, sauces, pastas, and wines; inhaled the aroma of pizza fresh out of the oven; and gazed longingly at the cannoli and sfogliatelle in the bakery display cases.  Then it was decision time, choosing our gelato flavors even as Michelle bemoaned the pounds she’d put on during her recent trip to Florence and Rome.  

Michelle and Kathy perusing the delectable goodies at The Italian Store.

I tried to console Michelle by reminding her that the protein in the gelato balanced the negative effects of the calories.  And truthfully, a scoop of gelato is a much healthier choice than something like a Krispy Kreme donut.  I refused to let guilt interfere with my enjoyment.  Rather, I remembered my mother’s words, spoken many years ago in a Texas ice cream parlor.  She looked up from her hot fudge sundae, paused with spoon in hand, and said, “Ice cream is good for the soul.”  Great-grandma Katie is a very wise woman. 

Call Me Grandma

July 29, 2015 – Call Me Grandma

I have a new name.  It’s Grandma Robin, and with it comes a whole new identity and an exciting new world.  Last week, I went up to Brooklyn to meet my new granddaughter, Sylvia Margot.  Exactly one week ago, I was holding her in my arms, gazing into her eyes, and falling hopelessly in love with Miss Sylvie.  Weighing 5 pounds, 6 ounces at birth, she is a tiny doll baby, bringing back memories of Elisa 30 years ago.  Also, like baby Elisa, Sylvie is sweet and cuddly.  Amazingly, over the course of four days, Sylvie became visibly bigger, stronger, and more alert.  Her determination to insert her thumb into her mouth is quite impressive for someone so young.  In case you haven’t yet noticed, I’m totally besotted with my new granddaughter!  

Grandma Robin and Miss Sylvie (1 week old)

When not holding Sylvie, I made myself useful to Elisa and Christian by doing grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, running errands, and doing laundry – all the things new parents are too exhausted to do.  Of course, both of them are still experiencing sleep deprivation and Elisa is recovering from a lengthy (30+ hours) labor.  Nothing can prepare you for the trauma that your body undergoes, and she’s also dealing with blood pressure issues. 

After a wonderful visit with the newest member of the family, it was time to get back home and tend to the oldest member of the family.  With only minimal assistance from Matt and Marshall, Elliott managed quite well during my absence.  In other words, he didn’t have any medical crises, he didn’t starve, and the house was still intact.  While he is proud of his self-sufficiency, he was eager to welcome me home.  I appreciate his thoughtfulness in postponing his next nosebleed until I returned. 

This week is devoted to catching up with appointments, mail, phone calls, bills, groceries, laundry, hair, etc.  I’ve already booked my bus ticket to New York for next week.  In the meantime, Grandma Robin has a request for Elisa and Christian:  Can you please set up a Sylvie Cam for me?

Birthday Surprises

July 16, 2015 – Birthday Surprises

Elliott has never been one to plan birthday celebrations, so I knew it was up to me to come up with an idea for my 65^th this past Tuesday, July 14.  A quick trip to Paris would have been nice, but I forced myself to be realistic.  There was a certain appeal to a couple of days alone in Shenandoah National Park, communing with nature.  However, that would have left Elliott out of the picture.  I finally decided that a quiet, romantic lunch with mon amour at a French restaurant would be the best solution.  (After all, it was Bastille Day as well as my birthday.)

I knew I’d made the right decision when Elliott and I settled into a comfy banquette in Jacques’ Brasserie, the less formal dining room of L’Auberge Chez François in Great Falls.  We both ordered soup to start:  Lobster bisque for Elliott, cream of asparagus (with asparagus picked from the restaurant’s garden) for me.  Elliott chose short ribs of beef braised in pinot noir for his main course while I selected a pan-seared flounder in a beurre blanc sauce.  Both dishes were accompanied by a vegetable garniture of classically turned potatoes and carrots, baby zucchini, golden beets, and delicate haricots verts.  The minute I saw dessert soufflés on the menu, I put in my order right away.  We shared a scrumptious raspberry soufflé, and it was better than any birthday cake.   

The main entrance to L'Auberge Chez François

The raspberry soufflé was a delicious as it looked.

On the terrace of Jacques' Brasserie

It turned out to be the perfect meal, with the perfect companion, for my special birthday.  We were both relaxed and enjoyed reminiscing about the food we’d eaten in France.  Once we finished lunch, however, we had to rush home since we were expecting a repairman to come and fix the air conditioning in the afternoon.  (Yes, we were on our 4^th day without AC!)

This birthday seemed to be going relatively smoothly.  I had opened up a dozen or so birthday cards in the morning.  Facebook and email birthday wishes had arrived throughout the day.  One strange thing was that I hadn’t gotten a birthday phone call from Elisa.  I made all kinds of excuses for this lapse and told myself she’d call around dinnertime.  At 5:00 p.m., the temperature in the house was still at least 80 degrees, but the repairman was downstairs working on the AC system.  Matt and my friend Judy were coming over for a simple birthday dinner (everything cold and prepared ahead of time) so I set out the food while Elliott was taking his nap. 

When he got up from his nap, Elliott didn’t have much of an appetite.  He sat down in the living room while the rest of us started eating.  And then it happened – blood spurting out of his nose, just like on Sunday night.  I jumped up and gathered paper towels, tissues, regular towels and ran over to Elliott.  There were already big splotches of blood on his clothes.  This time, I knew the routine.  I stuffed a decongestant-soaked cotton ball into his left nostril.  I called our doctor and monitored Elliott’s vital signs.  I wiped up blood from the floor and waiting for the bleeding to stop.  

This was enough drama for one evening.  But about 10 minutes into Elliott’s nosebleed, I heard the text message alert on my phone.  From Christian, my son-in-law:  we’ve checked into the hospital for the delivery. 

Well, that explained why I didn’t get a phone call earlier in the day.  It’s hard to think of making phone calls while you’re having contractions.  True, her due date wasn’t until July 25, but I had a feeling the baby would come early.  I could hardly contain my excitement, but as soon as I reported to the news, I had to rush back to Elliott’s side and focus on his immediate medical needs. 

Finally, the bleeding tapered off and I turned my attention to the cleanup.  As I scrubbed the blood out Elliott’s clothing, I kept hoping I’d hear more from Christian.  But when I finally collapsed into bed, there was no further information. 

Wednesday morning came.  Elliott had gotten through the night without any bleeding problems.  And we hadn’t gotten any more texts from Christian.  We both were thinking of Elisa, going through labor, and counting the hours since she’d had gone into the hospital.  It was hard to think of anything else.  Finally, around 4:00 on Wednesday afternoon, we got a phone call from a very tired Elisa with the news we’d been waiting anxiously to hear:  our granddaughter, Sylvia Margot Cheslak, had been born at 1:00 p.m.  The conversation was very brief but Elisa assured us that everything was fine. 

Today we spoke with both Elisa and Christian at greater length and saw the first photos of Mlle. Sylvie.  As you can imagine, we are thrilled beyond words!  Even though it was a few hours late, this is the best birthday present I’ve ever received.  

Unexpected Excitement

Life with Elliott is never dull.  We’ve had a few good days, if you discount the fact that our air conditioning stopped working Friday evening.  Fortunately, Elliott likes warm temperatures, especially since we couldn’t get anyone to come out and look at the system until tomorrow.  I can’t tolerate the heat so I arranged to spend most of the weekend out of the house.  

On Saturday, I was in DC on the National Mall with my friend Michelle (and about a million tourists – ugh).  We went to see the Gustave Caillebotte exhibit at the National Gallery of Art.  It was delightful to see his Impressionist paintings, especially since I’m not very familiar with his work.  His scenes of Paris life, portraits of friends, boating on the Seine, and market displays made both of us so nostalgic for France.  One of his most well known works, Paris Street, Rainy Day, traveled from The Art Institute of Chicago for the exhibition.  But the painting that set my heart a-flutter was Fruit Displayed on a Stand, on loan from Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts.  I stood in front of that painting on countless occasions during the decade I lived in the Boston area (1973-1983).

I was at the Workhouse Arts Center on Sunday for my fused glass class.  I’m working on some new photo transfers.  Matt was there, too, assisting the instructor.  He’s been accepted into the emerging artists program, which means he’ll have studio space in the Glass House.

Our houseguests arrived from Yorktown on Sunday afternoon.  It was much too hot to cook so I took everyone out to Wegman’s for dinner.  It was the perfect solution – pizza for Tyler, General Tso’s chicken for Matt, barbecued wings for Elliott, etc.  Shortly after we all settled down with our trays at a large table in the café area, someone cried out.  Everyone looked up.  Blood was pouring down Elliott’s face, flowing out of his nose at an alarming rate.  Within seconds, his shirt, vest and pants were drenched with blood. Elliott tried to staunch the flow by pinching his nose, but it continued to gush out.  Of course, he couldn’t keep the cannula from his oxygen concentrator in his nose and I was concerned about his oxygen level.  While I called 911, the others kept busy mopping up the blood with fists full of paper napkins.

The emergency responders arrived a few minutes later.  The bleeding tapered off soon afterwards.  They checked Elliott’s vital signs.  Aside from a stress-related spike in blood pressure, he seemed all right and decided to forgo transport to the emergency room.  I was impressed with how calmly everyone, including Elliott, dealt with the crisis.  We cleaned him up as best we could and headed home, where I stayed up late washing blood out of his clothes.  So, thank you, Elliott, for adding a little excitement to our evening!  

Elliott, after the bleeding stopped

Celebrating Independence and Seeking Equilibrium

The National Archives, all dressed up for Independence Day

Urban art from Peru

I didn’t travel far from home over the long Fourth of July weekend, but I made a point of expressing my personal independence.  Home is feeling more and more like a prison, and I came up with a multi-day escape plan.  On Friday, I took a solo trip into DC for the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. I would have preferred to go with a friend, but everyone already had plans so I went ahead on my own.  Once I was on the Metro, I was glad to have the freedom to do exactly what I wanted to do, without a single thought of anyone else – a possible sign of caregiver fatigue.  Since I had told Elliott not to expect me back home at any particular time, I had the whole day to spend as I chose.  I started with a lengthy visit to the festival, then a South American lunch break, and finally a quick stop at the National Gallery of Art.  By design, the day included a lot of walking.  In fact, I walked until my feet begged me to stop.  Here’s a run-down on the highlights of the day.

The Folklife Festival on the National Mall

The theme for this year’s festival was Peru: Pachamama (Mother Earth in the Quechua language).   The focus was on the diverse cultures from different regions of the country.  The entrance to the festival site on the National Mall was marked by a suspension bridge made of braided rope, typical of those found in the Andes Mountains.  There was a wide array of fascinating exhibits devoted to crafts, such as textiles, ceramics, painted tinwork, decorated gourds, retablos, and more.  I loved seeing the alpacas and watching a procession of dancers wearing masks and dressed in lavishly decorated costumes.   

Several different types of traditional and contemporary music filled the air.  Cooking demonstrations and music and dance performances were offered throughout the day.  Smells from the cooking demonstrations and food vendors tempted me but the long lines were discouraging.  Fortunately, the festival site was adjacent to the American Indian Museum.  At the museum’s Mitsitam Café, I continued the Peruvian theme with a spicy ceviche of shrimp and sweet potatoes, and a tasty dish of collard greens and corn. 

Then it was more walking, this time back across the mall to the National Gallery for a couple of their Patriotic Pop-Up tours.  These are short docent-led gallery talks that focus on paintings related to American history.  We viewed three works by urban realist artist George Bellows (New York, New York, Blue Morning, and The Lone Tenement) to get a sense of life in the big city in the early years of the 20^th century.  Allies Day 1917 by Childe Hassam portrays the exuberant national feeling of Americans supporting the French and British in World War I. 

New York, New York by George Bellows

Allies Day by Childe Hassam

On Saturday, the actual Fourth of July, I partied not once but twice with my friends Eleanor and Gary, who celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary with a poolside luncheon at their home and then a formal dinner at a lovely Fairfax City restaurant.  In between the two events, I worked with my friend Cindy on a patchwork quilt she’s making for Elisa’s baby.  This was my first experience with doing patchwork, and Cindy (an ESOL colleague) was an excellent teacher.  I look forward to practicing my newfound skills on some simple projects over the coming months.

Elliott received a special T-shirt at Eleanor and Gary's luncheon.

Sunday was devoted to an all-day trip to the Castleton MusicFestival, founded by the late conductor Lorin Maazel and his wife about ten years ago.  It took about two hours to reach the site of the festival.  At least I didn’t have to do the driving since this was a trip organized by the JCC.  It was wonderful getting away from suburbia and into the wide-open idyllic spaces of rural Rappahannock County.  We stopped on the way at an old tavern in the town of Flint Hill for lunch and then saw an afternoon performance of Gounod’s opera, Roméo et Juliette.  By the time I returned home on Sunday evening, I was satisfied that I had appropriately declared and celebrated my independence.  

This is the setting of the Castelton Music Festival.

Feeling relaxed at Castleton

The matter of independence was now settled, but I immediately recognized that I had created a new problem, i.e. exhaustion, resulting from several successive days of intense activity.  A sense of weariness, both physical and mental, swept over me.  I had originally planned to go out with a friend on Monday for a wine-tasting at a Virginia vineyard.  Instead, I decided to take a break.  I needed at least one day close to home to take care of the non-exciting tasks of daily living.

When I stopped running around, I gave finally myself time to reflect.  It seems like I’m constantly struggling to establish balance in my life.  I crave variety and thrive on new experiences.  My calendar fills up quickly, with dining out, cultural excursions, exercise classes, and more – all activities that I truly enjoy.  On the other hand, the pace leaves me drained and exhausted.  Do I have less energy because I’m older?  Is my body telling me it’s time to slow down? 

After spending some time thinking about this, I believe I’ve been subconsciously spending more and more time outside the house in order to get away from Elliott.  It’s not just physical distance, but an emotional or psychological distance that I need.  Because Elliott can’t go out on his own, he’s a constant presence at home, where he’s preoccupied with mortality.  I have to be on guard against his negativity and not allow it to infect me.  Instead of being a refuge, our house has become oppressive.  Consequently, I escape whenever I can.  Keeping busy certainly helps me forget my role as caregiver.  But as I now know, I need to modify this strategy so that there’s a better balance in my life.  The life-enriching activities and relationships outside of home can’t occupy all of my time.  I need to set aside quiet time and opportunities to reflect, rest and restore my energy.  Who knew that equilibrium would be so elusive?