All posts by betty.belanus@gmail.com

Tarrying in the Lower Hudson Valley

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Along the Hudson River, there are myriad historic and cultural sites to lure visitors. These date in some cases back to the 1700s, when the Dutch settled the area. There are grand estates of the rich and famous, artist and writer’s homes, gardens (built by other rich people) and contemporary sculpture gardens. And lots of natural sites, parks, and wildlife areas. Something for virtually everyone.

There is so much to do, in fact, that it’s hard to choose. Since we were attending a wedding that was on the southern end of things, we stayed within an easy drive of the Tappan Zee (now Mario Cuomo) Bridge, and found plenty to keep us occupied for a couple of days.

Arriving on Friday evening, we drove straight to Tarrytown (in the shadow of the bridge) and took a stroll along the RiverWalk. As the sun set behind the Catskills (fairly low hills at this point), we debated dinner, settling on a cute family-run pan-Asian cafe in nearby downtown Dobbs Ferry.

A cautionary tale for beautiful late summer weekends in the area – make reservations for any tours of popular historic homes well in advance. We missed out on the house tour of Lyndhurst, a majestic and sort of spooky looking Gothic mansion which a lot of rich people like Jay Gould built, expanded upon, and lived in (sometimes, though they had other properties too of course). With the admission to a huge craft fair happening that weekend, we were able to not only check out many local artisans, but also walk freely around the substantial grounds. Especially enjoyable was the skeleton of the greenhouse, once the largest and grandest of its kind.

After lunch in downtown Tarrytown (keeping in the Asian theme with a Korean slant this time), we got the last two tickets for the last tour of the day at Philipsburg Manor. While we waited for the tour to start, we wandered to the nearby Old Dutch Church and cemetery, across the infamous site of the bridge where the legendary Headless Horseman chased the hapless Ichabod Crane. (If you are a bit rusty on your Washington Irving, you might want to download an audio version of the story for fun, like we did!)

The tour of Philipsburg Manor was well worth the wait. The grounds include a grist mill, the manor house, a barn, garden and outdoor bake oven, all flawlessly interpreted by costumed staff (though thankfully not in first person, which always creeps me out). It is the year 1750, and enslaved laborers run the mill, the dairy, the household, the fields, and the baking, since the rich owners really live in Manhattan and hardly ever occupy the premises. It is story that is seldom told in the northern states, and the details of the estate were preserved through an inventory which was meticulously completed down to the last piece of pewterware, due to the last heir dying without a will. (And he was a lawyer, so go figure, but we can all be glad he failed on this account.)

That evening, we caught another beautiful sunset on the Hudson. The next day, we had just enough time to explore a good chunk of the amazing Untermyer Gardens, near our hotel in Yonkers. A Persian-inspired walled garden, a grand staircase sweeping down to an overlook of the Hudson, and a Temple of Love with waterfalls… what more could you ask for?

Some day we will make it to the Upper Hudson Valley (and even to the Middle?), but the southern portion was more than sufficient for one weekend! Here are some snaps of the sites:

Steve documents the Tarrytown Lighthouse, swaddled in some protective scaffolding during a restoration but still cool, and the distant Tappan Zee Bridge. Local students have decorated a temporary wall (a new waterfront park is being built behind it) with their hopes and dreams.
Sunset over the Catskills, along the RiverWalk in Tarrytown.

View of the Lyndhurst mansion from the Bowling Alley on the lower portion of the grounds. The path along the river connects with the RiverWalk in nearby Tarrytown.

The Lyndhurst greenhouse, which is atmospheric in its bare bones condition. Interpretive signs tell about the plantings in each room, which included an extensive orchid collection and an indoor vineyard.
The cemetery next to the Old Dutch Church in Sleepy Hollow is proportedly haunted. FYI, Washington Irving is NOT buried here, though many of his relatives are. You’ll have to visit his “charming cottage” Sunnyside, down the road from Lyndhurst in Tarrytown, to visit his home and his final resting place.
A shed in the cemetery near the church (which you can see a corner of in the background) sports wooden shoes, an homage to the Dutch settlers of the area.
The approach to Philipsburg Manor grounds, with grist mill on the left, manor house in center and barn to the right.
While all the interpreters at Philipsburg Manor were exceptional, this gentleman who interprets the farm work was especially good. His fondness of the lovingly preserved barn (not original to Philipsburg but an authentic barn of the period moved from another property) and his excellent explanation of the growing and early processing of wheat (including flailing) really “separated the wheat from the chaff” of historic interpretation!
Persian walled garden at Untermyer Gardens Conservatory. Based on concepts of Paradise, and truly magical.
An edible garden with the Hudson peeking out in the distance is another feature of Untermyer.
And, finally, the Temple of Love, or the Untermyer version at least. Again with the Hudson in the background.

A Memorable Montgomery Memorial

#peaceandjusticememorial, Civil Rights sites, Montgomery, Alabama, ,

Montgomery, Alabama is chock full of disturbing history: From the earliest days of settlers displacing indigenous peoples, to becoming a prominent slave auction site, to its distinction as the “first capitol of the Confederacy,” to civil rights violence (and lots of other things I missed in between). Good things happened here, too, and the citizens love their city despite it all.

I visited with a group of educators working on a multi-year grant through the Department of Education. (Our Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage is a partner in the grant.) REACH (Race, Equity, Arts and Cultural History) “proposes a five-year project to establish a national replicable model that will strengthen the fiber of arts learning and harness the learning and effectiveness of arts integration as a catalyst for increasing student engagement and achievement” and is in a large part the brainchild of my esteemed colleague, Denise Davis-Cotton, from the University of South Florida’s Center for Partnerships in Arts-Integrated Teaching. Denise is from Montgomery and wanted our first year’s museum studies site visit to take place there, at the many excellent Civil Rights sites.

It was a whirlwind tour. Our group visited two or three sites a day, including the Rosa Parks Museum, the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, the Freedom Rides museum, the Legacy Museum, and several other sites. A lot to take in and process.

To me, the most memorable of all of these highly memorable sites was the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. When I told some friends about visiting the memorial, they said, “Oh, you mean the Lynching Memorial.” Well, that’s a big part of the story, but not all of it. This is a memorial for healing, not just for documenting in a very emotionally affective way the legacy of over 4,000 known lynchings in our country.

Still, the terrible history of lynching as an unchecked practice in much of the U.S. between the Civil War and World War II is the largest part of this incredible installation. Row upon row of metal columns list states, counties and names of the people who lost their lives to individuals or mobs who somehow thought they were meting out justice in their hate-twisted minds.

Interpreters are on hand to unpack some of what you see, and add in even more disturbing facts from the extensive research that has been carried out for the memorial. I talked to one of them, Ricky Blackmon, about why he decided to work at the Memorial, as I was thinking it must be hard to fill in the blanks created by these lists of victims with descriptions of public lynchings, souvenirs made of human flesh, and other unbelievable but true stories. “I do it for my grandparents,” he told me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

If I had not already been on the verge of tears by then (about a quarter of the way through the memorial), I was then. And I can’t help crying again while writing this.

If you find yourself in Montgomery, don’t skip a visit to this incredible installation. And talk to the interpreters. But meanwhile, here are some photos I took.

At the heart of the memorial are these metal columns which start out at eye level and, as you walk through, are raised until they are towering overhead. Each has the state, county and known lynching victims listed.
Toward the end of the columns, slate tablets with examples of why people were lynched line the walls on both sides. The light on the overhead tablets changes during the day, and symbolizes, according to one of the interpreters at the site, the many varieties of skin tones of African Americans.
It would take hours to read all the tablets inscribed with information about the reasons for and circumstances under which people where lynched. Considering the name, this one stood out to me.
Ricky Blackmon explains the circumstances of the lynchings recorded on this column, which involved a whole family.
The memorial grounds also include many striking sculptures such as this one, with the background of Montgomery.
FInal words; the reason for the memorial.

No Quarrel with Quebec

travel,

Quebec City is the next best thing to going to Europe. Considering the fact that I was SUPPOSED to go to Europe this week, in this case to Switzerland, but instead am laid up with a bum hip, I am glad my daughter M.E. and I experienced this trip to almost-Europe. It will have to suffice for this summer.

This was the third time I’d been to Quebec City. The first time was right after my dad passed away, my mom’s first venture at planning a mother and daughter trip instead of a family vacation. We splurged and flew from Burlington, VT – first time on a plan for either of us. I was 13 years old. So don’t remember much except the imposing Chateaux Frontenac, the historic edifice that dominates the landscape of the old city.

The second time was with my hubby for a few days, and we drove, so we had a wider adventure along the way to and from. This time, we flew to Montreal and took the bus to and from Quebec. Except for a major hassle with cancelled and delayed flights home, that worked out pretty well. (The bus is a lot cheaper than the train, and goes straight to the airport after a brief stop downtown. And has wifi – well is supposed to have wifi at least.)

We walked a lot (which probably in the long run did not help my current hip problem, but what the heck), and explored not only the old parts of the city and the Citidel on the hill, but a few parts of the more modern city as well. We also booked a few organized tours: a boat ride on the St. Lawrence (almost required on a trip with me), a tour of the countryside (with a very amusing bus driver/guide) and a glimpse into the inner workings and history of the Chateaux. (Next best thing to staying there, which is not really affordable and probably not totally worth it.)

Here are some highlights in photos. If you can’t make it to Europe, and live on the East Coast, try a visit to Quebec is my advice. Just don’t fly Air Canada.

The Chateaux, from the rooftop plaza of our much more modest but still strategically located hotel. From this vantage point we could also hear the music festival which was raging on each evening in the nearby Plains of Abraham.
At the Citidel (military fort) on another hill above the city you can tour the military history (not my thing) but we also discovered you could (for free) tour the Governor General’s residence. Which is chock full of art and really nice furniture. Plus you learn something about Canadian government. And the patio view is not too shabby!
One of the cool things at the Governor General’s house with this giant blow up of Samuel de Champlain (or someone in his party’s?) field note book/journal. He documented the flora and fauna, and of course said a lot of rather condescending things about the local cultures.
Another view of Quebec’s history, though the mural in the lower part of the old city, which you either get to by a lot of stairs (ouch, on the hip) or the Funicular. This mural blends old and new history in a charming way.
On our tour of the countryside, we stopped at Saint Anne de Beaupre Shrine, which boasts these impressive copper doors. We also stopped at the workshop of the copper artist who made them. He has passed on to the great workshop in the sky and left his knowledge and business to his female descendants. Really worth a visit to both!
I really could have used some of these abandoned assisted walking devises of those cured by visiting Saint Anne’s Shrine. It obviously didn’t work for me but probably because I shorted the recommended candle lighting fee.
One of the most interesting things about the tour of the Chateaux was the glimpse into the secret herb garden and bee keeping area. Keeping things Earth Optimistic in the heart of the old city!
Speaking of plants and gardens, I liked the concept of this work of living art outside the Museum of Fine Arts. (The inside was pretty impressive too.) Worth venturing outside the city walls to visit, but give yourself a couple/three hours to take it all in. There are several buildings and a lot to see.
Around the lower old and newer city area, there is also a sort of art walk with really cool installations. This one is near the boat tour dock and involved a lot of discarded life jackets used by Syrian refugees. (And is by Ai Weiwei no less.)
Water features in and around Quebec include the majestic Montmorency Falls. We got views from our boat ride and stopped here on our countryside tour as well. Locals were using the area to cool down in, though signs indicated they were not supposed to be doing so!
Ending at the beginning, the first night we arrived, the sunset was spectacular over the Laurentian mountains and illuminating the St. Lawrence, and a brief rain gifted us with this site. My mom loved rainbows, so it surely was her grinning down on us and approving the mother-daughter experience.

Curatorial Cogitations

Smithsonian Folklife Festival,

[Dedicated to my co-curators, Arlene Reiniger, Erin Chapman and Molly Dodge. Who share the kudos and the blames…]

Finally emerging from the all consuming preparation, execution, and aftermath that is the Smithsonian Folklife Festival is like surfacing after a long time underwater. It’s time to take a long deep breath, assess the successes and the damages, pack away some of the physical accoutrements and the emotional baggage that comes with working with a huge team of very talented but sometimes testy personalities, and – most important – get some sleep uninterrupted with nightmares of what is yet to be done, missing, forgotten, or just fallen between the cracks.

Having worked on the event for the last 36 years, in one capacity or the other, you’d have thought I’d seen it all. But the Festival has changed, evolved, morphed, and reformed over that span of time, in some ways for the better and in some ways making one long for earlier days. It’s only natural, though the more recent Festival staff often dislike us oldsters talking about those “good old days” when things were done differently (also for better or worse).

I have curated or co-curated at least 11 Festival programs (I might have forgotten one or two, maybe on purpose?). Curating a Festival program is often exhilarating, but just as often exhausting. Being responsible for so many moving parts (tents, signs, concept messages, schedules, gardens, whatnot) and people (participants, presenters, interns, volunteers, direction or at least information to other staff members) is a weighty job. Yes, curators get the praise if things go well, but just as often get the blame – for just about everything.

Sign text late? Curator’s fault. Participants not totally chosen yet (and there’s too many of them?) – definitely curator’s fault. Over budget? check. Supply and/or Tech list not complete? check. And the list goes on, and on.

The other thing that is mostly unseen is the physical labor Festival curators and their staff of (mostly of interns and volunteers) are expected to shoulder, and do so (mostly though not always) without complaining. Putting up and moving around tables and chairs. Toting bags of soil and mulch for gardens. Carrying supplies around. Arranging and rearranging stuff in storage containers. Cleaning up the site after the Festival when we are most tired, both physically and mentally.

Why would anyone want this job, you ask? Not for the glory, that is for sure. For me, it’s two reasons. One, to showcase and honor the skills, talents, work and traditions of the amazing Festival participants – who work so hard to prepare, travel so far, and spend so much time explaining/demonstrating/performing. Two, to be a part of something so life-changing for so many people.

Yes life-changing — that is the way so many participants, temporary staff, interns and volunteers describe their time at the event. Over and over, throughout the years. It is truly special, and worth the bangs and bruises (physical and of our egos) to be a part of this thing. It gets in your blood after a while and you can’t not be there helping, even if you aren’t “in charge” – with all the kudos and blame that comes with that role.

Here’s some behind the scenes pix to give the idea of the spirit and feel of the event and of our Earth Optimism x Folklife program, for those who are in the know and those who just come to enjoy; or have never been. With all the troubles that came this year after having been away from doing it in person for a few years, it was still worth it. (Though I am still catching up with sleep and still taking a daily dose of Aleve to ease the aches.) Long may it rein, and produce more “good old days” for the youngsters still settling into their roles, or the “one-timers” who will hopefully remember their Festival time as one of the hardest and most rewarding things they ever accomplished.

Our demo gardens were not perfect but they did the job. Thanks to Earth Sangha in Franconia for growing our native pollinators and helping this rookie gardener through the planning. And SI Gardens who grew the veg/herbs. And Tech for increasing the height of the planters that were too short. And to everyone who helped dump and arrange mulch around the pots to make it look like an actual garden. So many people to thank always!
IKEA donated a bunch of furniture – some assembly required, mostly by our interns under the tutelage of the staff members they sent. Interns quickly learn the Smithsonian phrase, especially applicable to the Festival: “other duties as assigned.”
Though it did not arrive until the third day of the Festival, due to overwork of our Tech team, the Worm Theater worm composting area had immediate customers under the guidance of intern Rosie Cohen, AKA Worm Girl.
I am always amazed by our participants and the sheer volume of questions they patiently answer in the course of a Festival day. Anna Lucio, one of our American Ginseng Conservation participants, brought her teenaged daughter Beverly who will no doubt recall her experience for years to come. I sat here while they took a break, for about an hour, and got a lot of good visitor questions about our favorite forest botanical (read more about it at www.folklife.si.edu/american-ginseng
Our lead volunteer for the Come Out and Play area, and my good friend and colleague, Kim, will never look at bacon in the same light again after having to figure out what the intention of the idea of including”stretchy bacon” as a prop had to do with Earth Optimism…? (The other props included giant inflatable globes which made a lot more sense.)
“Mannequin wrestling” is one of the most challenging aspects of any Festival – as we always manage to have the need for one or more to display costumes, and they never behave, resulting in random arms, legs, torsos and heads riding in the back of golf carts or being tripped over in storage areas.
So much time and effort is put into signage, which often unfortunately gets scrapped at the end of the event. This was my post-Festival line-up to share in the hopes that SI Gardens wanted these for something… they were nicely featured in these garden signs and so maybe that was enough for the ten days they lived on the Mall… ?
Last but not least, during the post-Festival take down, Arlene finally fulfills her desire to get her hands on a power tool and display her Macho Woman skills. Honed over even more years than I have worked on the Festival. Are we “too old to do this anymore”? Tune in to find out in the future after we recover from this year…

More Blooming

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Spring keeps yoyoing around here this year. It gets warm, and then warmer, and then back in the 50s again. Still have not liberated the little tomatoes and peppers (some of which are quite large now!) from their pots yet. But the greens and radishes are flourishing, at least.

Gardening and work on our upcoming Earth Optimism x Folklife program for the 2022 Smithsonian Folklife Festival are about all I’ve had time for lately, with a couple of Easter celebrations thrown in for good measure.

And a visit to other gardens, as you will see below. Hope to have something more exciting and further afield next month (as once a month seems to be the average for me posting this year). But for now, here are some pictures from my April-early May “blooming adventures”!

Once again, my bleeding heart plant rose from nowhere and produced its delicate blooms.
My friend Marianne invited me to tour the White House gardens with her. I was impressed by the kitchen garden!
These were my favorite orchids at the annual Smithsonian orchid exhibition which honored women’s contributions to orchid research and conservation. Yeah, women!
I was trying to get a clear shot of the bees feasting on these azaleas at the Brighton Dam Azalea Garden in Maryland. You can sort of see the bee in the lower right or at least his/her “bee butt.”
Okay, not a blossom but even tastier and as pretty as a flower…. our friend Khamo brought her homemade momo dumplings to our little Orthodox Easter celebration. Delish!
And, just for fun… seen on my walk to the Virginia Square metro!

Gardens, Real and Imagined

#collage, tomatoes; garden,

We’ve been redoing our back and side yard gardens this spring, and I couldn’t be more excited. New raised beds mean less stooping over for my tired old back, and new rich soil means we might actually get some decent veggies this year!

Meanwhile, I continue to collage with my friend Martha and I’m often inspired by flowers and gardens. I put all those seed catalogs that keep piling up to good use, cutting them into flower arrangements and fanciful dream gardens for cards to flower and garden loving friends.

Making gardens, real or imaginary, brings me back to my “roots” so to speak. My father always planned and executed a large vegetable garden in our yards – first in New Jersey and then in Vermont. After he passed away, my mother kept the tradition, enlisting both myself and my sister in the work.

I hate weeding and I never really liked picking green beans (they are really hard to see among their foliage!). I especially detest squash bugs, spotted cucumber beetles, and slugs, and whatever likes to take big bites out of ripe tomatoes. But I do like to play in the dirt. And to eat the results.

Watching things sprout and grow brings us hope. We all need a big dose of hope right now.

Here are some plant and garden pix, real and imagined.

New fancy raised beds. There are three this size and another smaller one. Blank canvas for all sorts of plants!
I always wanted some sort of strawberry tower thing. Hopefully this will thwart the slugs this year??
Some day maybe I will get a greenhouse or at least a hot frame. For now, its an indoor thing and when the day allows, taking these babies outside to hard up and get some direct sun! Always too many…
One of my imaginary collage gardens.
This was our 2020 “pandemic garden” in Pennsylvania. Lots of tomatoes! Black Krim are my faves.
Fanciful flower collage.

Soaking up Sarasota

travel,

I feel as though I deserved a trip to Florida (even if it was partially a work trip) this past week. It’s been a rough few months. So, taking off for Sarasota seemed like a really excellent idea.

I’d been to Sarasota a couple of times briefly before, but this time really got a chance to explore the city and its environs. The food (yay grouper!), the sunsets, the balmy winter temperature, the interesting flora, the many variations of blue-green-gray on the bay and gulf… what’s not to like?

A couple of highlights and then the rest in photos… Kayaking with buddies Arlene, Pete and Carol on Longboat Key. Visiting the Marie Selby Botanical Garden’s historic Spanish Point location (though we hear the downtown location is even better). Free Monday admission to the amazing Ringling Art Museum and grounds. And sunsets on Siesta Key and the downtown Bayfront Park. Not to mention soaking in hotel hot tubs and eating delicious fresh fish and ethnic delights. Oh, and visiting my grad school buddy Eleanor, who cooked us dinner.

It was worth risking COVID amid the now mostly unmasked masses in Florida. It was worth risking sunburn on our winter-white bodies. It was worth the several more pounds I came home with (and I’m not talking about in my suitcase)!

The trip will get me through to the Spring that is sure to come here soon (despite the groundhog’s silly predictions).

Courtyard of the Ringling Art Museum.
A classic “Steve eats food” shot, at a small Salvadoran pupuseria one evening. The downtown eating scene was just too hectic and crowded for us (though it was fun to walk around there). Thank goodness for smartphone searches.
Our kayak group on a beach break. And yes, I cannot kayak without getting totally soaked.
Boat building workshop at the Marie Selby museum. Volunteers build small boats like this one, which had a very impressive array of laminated woods.
Steve “interacts” (sort of) with augmented reality art at the Marie Selby garden. In other words, those things were not really there in real life. It’s new fangled art, you know.
Under the banyans on the grounds of the Ringling.
Eagles and their 40-year old nest, encountered by my friend Lisa and I on a break from our meeting at the University of South Florida. Apparently (according to an informative passerby) this nest saved the land around it from development, and has been passed between eagles and ospreys for all those years.
One of fifty juried art works reproduced large and displayed at the Bayfront Park for the exhibition, Embracing our Differences. (The lower portions of my new friends Roy and Margaret can be seen viewing another panel at left!)
Sunet on Siesta Key beach. My friend Kim told me the sand there is like sugar. She wasn’t making that up.
Courtyard at Ringling Art Museum in Sarasota showing blooming flowers in a large urn, statuary and gardens.
Sunset at Bayfront Park. And so ends our Sarasota adventure!

Rest in Peace Elinor

Elinor Belanus, ,

Since mid-November, it’s been a rocky road for our small family. While my brother in law, Bob McFadden, was in home hospice in Hilton Head, SC, my mom had two trips to the Hilton Head hospital. Bob passed away on December 2. Mom rallied a bit, able to come to my sister’s home from the nursing home for Christmas Eve via wheelchair van.

It was clear, though, that she was in decline, very frail and not taking pleasure in much of anything. I went home after Christmas, but was back for Bob’s memorial service in mid-January. The plan was to stay through my mom’s 96th birthday on January 28, but it became even more clear that she was not doing well, staying in bed almost exclusively and increasingly confused and in pain.

I stayed, and my sister and I went every day to visit, often finding her sleeping fitfully, or just plain knocked out by the strong pain killers she needed to make her some level of comfortable. On her birthday, we brought her favorite Chinese take-out and a decorated cake; she spent the day in a semi-stupor and didn’t get to enjoy any of it.

She lasted almost another two weeks, tenuously holding on to life, passing away finally on the morning of February 7. So sad, but finally at peace.

She was not always the easiest person to love, but we did regardless. She will be remembered for her sense of humor (sometimes a bit bawdy); her colorful sayings, many of which I find myself using as they are so ingrained; her love of cooking and food, which was hard to see her deprived of when she started losing her taste buds and desire to eat even the most tempting dishes; and her feistiness in general. She was mentally sharp up to the later stages of her decline.

Here are is a slide show with some fairly recent photos from my digital stock; there are so many more from the days of print photos of course which I will get around to digitizing some day maybe. I may do another blog later that delving into her earlier life, as I whiled away hospital hours during her first stay by doing a recorded interview. Hours of memory cannot be condensed into a few words or photos, but it helps to share some of this with friends. Cherish your loved ones, for all their faults, all the days of their lives.

  • Collage using some of over 100 cards she received for her 95th birthday. Some of you might recognize the ones you sent!
  • She loved her seafood, including the lobster special at Reilly’s Pub.
  • On her 90th birthday, we gave her 90 presents!
  • Granddaughter Mary Elinor (M.E.) Francis enjoyed learning about her mom’s early exploits through photos.
  • A visit to DC before she stopped traveling much; M.E. in full teenage mode.
  • Hilton Head “bestie” Betty Sebastian, her next door neighbor, was her game and pizza might buddy while they still lived in their homes.
  • Decorating Christmas cookies was a holiday ritual.
  • The cookie master.
  • Flower arranging at her assisted living facility was a hit. She did have a flair for it.
  • A cookie decorating session in assisted living which I masterminded.
  • M.E.’s high school graduation in 2009.
  • A trip with my sister to St. Augustine, FL when she was still able to travel.
  • She loved presents, giving and getting. A happy holiday moment.
  • Hamming it up for the camera. Bye, Mom!
  • At the “home nail salon” with M.E. as the nail technician.

New Year’s Revelations

Uncategorized, ,

Since New Year’s Resolutions usually don’t work out very well, I decided “revelations” would be more fun to explore. But really this a sort of review of things I’ve been doing and places I’ve been in the past couple of months, that did not make it into my other 2021 blogs. But I’ll try to frame them as “revelations” to fit into my chosen theme!

But for those of you who actually like resolutions, there’s a fun way to make some, courtesy a randomly generated wacky collection courtesy the new Futures exhibition currently in the refurbished Smithsonian Arts and Industries building. Just follow that link, and click in the white box inside the green circle with the little robot looking thing in the right bottom corner. It’s sort of addictive. My favorite one was “As often as possible I will fire things from a trebuchet.” (My daughter and I have a thing for trebuchets after seeing a show on PBS about them one time years ago.)

2022 still sounds rather futuristic, but it’s here. I always try to end on a hopeful note in these blogs, so here’s hoping for some good things this year. Meanwhile, here are my “illustrated relevations.” (NOTE ABOUT FEATURED IMAGE ABOVE: This plate of tandoori roasted vegetables at a Jersey City, NJ Indian restaurant, encountered in November, was a true revelation of deliciousness. The American flag is a nice touch, too. Here’s to more culinary adventures in 2022 like this one!)

Sometimes revelations come close to home. Here, the new canal boat that will, later this year, start taking tourists on a historic journey along the C&O canal is revealed to be sitting around waiting in Georgetown.
As friends and family celebrated the life of my husband’s cousin Wendy, who passed away in November, in the outdoor dining structure of a restaurant in Greenwich Village, NYC, a humongous thunder, lightning and hail storm blew through. While we were skeptical that we would emerge unscathed, it was a revelation that these pandemic inspired structures are really quite sturdy. And that the temperature can drop 30 degrees in a matter of minutes.
The camelia garden at the Hilton Head Island Coastal Discovery Center is a revelation. Who knew there were so many types of camelias and that they bloomed so beautifully in December? Well, the Camelia Society did of course!
While I knew my father once sported a very jaunty ‘stache, finding this image in my mom’s collection of randomly arranged photos was a revelation just the same. My daughter got a kick out – she never knew my dad but is getting an idea of his sense of humor and “spirit of adventure” from these old photos.
The annual decorating of the cookies is always revealing of the strange imaginations of my daughter, husband and even myself. I actually turned what was supposed to be holly into The Yellow Submarine this year.
Not sure of the revelation here, though I guess you can count the lottery scratch-offs that are a holiday tradition with us as “revealing” what you win or mostly don’t win. Here my mother, who will be 96 the end of January, and M.E. commune at my sister’s on Christmas eve, with Hunter the Dog joining in.
Circling back to revelations almost in your own back yard, here an image of the wetlands boardwalk at Huntley Meadows in nearby Alexandria. My friend Janette and I took a nice long New Year’s Eve walk there, before the weather turned and it snowed (on January 3!). Here’s to more adventures near and far in 2022!

Water Therapy

#hiltonheadisland, Hilton Head Island, therapy, water, poetry, fathoming,

For the past almost month, I’ve been in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina staying with my sister due to family health issues. We are not originally from coastal South Carolina, it’s just where she, her husband, and my mom all retired to after spending vacations there. So, we’ve been visiting for years.

I have mixed feelings about Hilton Head. I like the water – beautiful beaches and a series of scenic sounds, lagoons, and other waterways great for kayaking. I like the temperature, lots warmer than the Frozen Northern Mid-Atlantic this time of year. Not so crazy about the politics, the use of the word “Plantation” in the name of the developments, and a few other things. (Oh, and I have to say that having had my mom in the hospital here twice in the last month, the health care leaves a lot to be desired as well but that’s another story.)

Last year when we rented our own “villa” here for the month of January, I found out you could join the “kayak club” here at Palmetto Dunes Plantation’s Hilton Head Outfitters for a reasonable calendar year price. Palmetto Dunes has 11 miles of kayakable lagoons, and their kayak launch makes it really easy for a “senior kayaker” like me to get in and out quickly and relatively painlessly.

Throughout January, and during visits in April and October, and in the last month, I have more than paid for my kayak club membership in paddles around the lagoons. Eleven miles sounds like a lot, but I have been around the whole of them at least twice or three times now. Different seasons bring different colors and birds and just things you didn’t see the first time, though, so it’s all good.

Being on the water, under your own power, is definitely therapeutic for me. Quiet, just your paddle dipping in and out of the water, watching the sometimes obscenely opulent homes arranged along the lagoon slide by, looking for alligators (I’ve only ever seen one this whole time) and trying to sneak up on the herons to take photos… all good. I can forget everything else for an hour or two. How sad it is that my brother in law passed away a week after Thanksgiving. How hard it is to see my mom so frail and mostly confined to bed. How much I miss my own home and friends back in the DC area.

Here are some snaps of my watery adventures. I hope you all have a peaceful and happy holiday and get to indulge in visiting some of your own personal favorite places and activities. May 2022 bring all good (or at least better) things for us all.

Shifting colors, moving water, amusing boat names.
Even though this is a highly populated area, with homes lining the lagoons, in some parts of the system you can get the illusion of being “in the wild.”
The wildlife is pretty tame. It’s easy to get close to a great blue heron until it catches on to you.
Look carefully as Mr. (or Ms.) alligator is pretty well camouflaged here. And really, very small as alligators go. The lagoons are brackish so not so conducive to these shy critters.
Lots of “happy places” that your mind can return to (even if they are in someone else’s backyard, but you can image sitting out there on a nice day yourself.
Strange (and timely?) dock art.