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 upcomingEarth 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!
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!
Our neighborhood is abuzz, but it’s not from human gossip. It’s from our once-in-seventeeen- years visitors, the cicadas. Yes, they started emerging in earnest after it stopped dipping down into the 40s at night and then, like it usually does in the Washington, DC area, shot instantly into the 90s.
They are dubbed “Brood X” which makes them sound to me sort of like characters in a sci-fy/ noir movie mash-up. Our colleague Jim has written an article for our work web site about why the X, and also many other aspects of cicada folklore and folklife, which is a good read.
While our own backyard doesn’t have nearly the numbers some do, there is still this constant, undulating “zizz-zizz” in the background when you venture outside, and scores (if not billions) of dopey or dead specimens hanging out. Here’s what they look and sound like:
It’s not really that big a nuisance, and actually it’s pretty cool. And, as a result, you too can become a Citizen Scientist by downloading the app “Cicada Safari” and uploading your photos, which get added to a map.
They’ll be gone before we know it. So, we might as well make the most of them. But I will not be trying any in recipes, which we knew were bound to be on offer, right?
Historic cemetery as tourism destination sounds kind of morbid, but in the case of Savannah’s Bonaventure Cemetery, it’s really a treat. A couple of weeks ago, during our month long stay in South Carolina’s Low Country, my husband and I set off on a cool but sunny day to wander the substantial grounds of this final resting place, made somewhat famous by its mention in the John Berendt book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
While it’s the home of the remains of some famous people, including popular composer Johnny Mercer and writer Conrad Aiken, there are many other things worth exploring here. These ranged from an area honoring railroad workers, to the origin of the Vulcan “live long and prosper” hand sign (extra research was needed to interpret this and other things, such as the “Cosmos Mariner – Destination Unknown” epitaph in the Aiken plot). The cemetery is situated on the edge of a scenic bluff overlooking the Wilmington River so you get some glimpses of nature in there, too. I’m sure one of the guided tours that staff and volunteers give (which have been somewhat curtailed by COVID) would be beneficial, but we found blundering around with the free map available at the office an interesting challenge.
Here are some highlights. Enjoy the snaps and visit if you are ever in Savannah!
Entrance to the cemetery. Turn right from here to get to the parking lot, if you keep going left you end up in a totally different cemetery.The cemetery has a large Jewish component and a Holocaust Memorial. My friend Arlene explained that stones are left on graves to basically say, “I was here and honored your grave.” Many graves had at least a handful of stones of various shapes and sizes.See link for above for an article explaining how Leonard Nimoy borrowed from his Jewish heritage to create the Vulcan greeting. I never knew this before noticing this on one of the Bonaventure gravestones. Did you?A view of the Wilmington River flanking this huge impressive memorial.Lots of angels here. This one was sort of creepy but the carving is amazing.Is this a memorial to the Order of Railway Conductors or just their guests??A list of some of Johnny Mercers most famous tunes is carved into this bench in his family plot. Try to get some of these out of your head after remembering how they go! Elaborately carved stones are all well and good, but…Flip-flops and pink flamingoes, now that’s my kind of memorial.
Well, it’s that time of year again when I debate whether it’s worth it to send out holiday cards and also to include some sort of holiday letter. I did compile one of these, and I hate for it to go to waste. And, I do appreciate reading the (more concise) versions sent by my friends.
But our printer has been giving me trouble, from non-connectivity to low ink reserves, and I hate to keep bothering my poor husband (and resident Tech Support Person) with these problems. (For one thing, he likes to recycle the ink cartridges himself and this usually results in pools or smears of various colors from magenta to cyan all over the dining room table, and his fingers, and anything else within striking distance.)
I used to send out photos of our darling daughter when she was younger, necessitating getting her to pose in some vaguely holiday themed way next to a pine tree or something, and then getting the photos printed (remember printed photos?) by whatever arcane means we had back when she was a child. This was before cell phone cameras or even separate digital cameras were prevalent (and she isn’t even 30 yet!).
Then I went to a family newsletter sort of thing, invariably criticized by husband and daughter about which photos I had chosen and what I said about their activities. Everyone’s a critic!
So, this year, having decided that I will send out cards to those people who are still on my card exchange list, do I just write nice handwritten notes to everyone, and if they really want to know more, suggest they connect to my blog? This works for the more computer savvy among them, but not that handful of Luddites or older folks who don’t do computers. Or just don’t like blogs.
I think I will just attach my letter thing here and hope for the best. If you want to go the extra mile and download it, please give that a try. If not, don’t. Apologies to those who don’t read my blog and to those who don’t want to click on the link as it’s the only way I could figure to add it. But since you are not reading this, I will have to apologize to you via written note. I am pretty familiar with that technology!
NOTE ON FEATURED IMAGE: We finally got to view the holiday lights at the Mormon Temple last year, which were very cool! Happy holidays to all!
During the second part of my vacation, I joined my old high school buddies, Debi, Debbie and Chris on an Adirondack adventure. (Not that this was really “roughing it”, but tent camping in your 60s is an adventure in and of itself. No matter how soft your camp mattress is, you wake up stiff and fold yourself out of the cocoon of the sleeping bag slowly and ungracefully. Groaning.) Lots of fresh air and space for distancing, especially after Labor Day.
We met up at lovely Rollins Pond. Why are some of the innumerable bodies of water up there are called ponds and some lakes? Apparently it has to do with the depth. But anyhow, Rollins is a pretty big pond and most camping sites are situated a short distance from the shore. Perfect for kayaking or taking a swim right from your “back door.”
Water-based activities by day, roaring campfire by night. This was our “routine” for three days.
The first full day there we set off in kayaks after breakfast and encountered one of the famous northern loons and her chick swimming placidly along. I regret the decision not to bring my phone with me to snap some shots, because I got close enough to stare into the mom’s beady red eye and to scare the chick into keeping close by her side. During various parts of the day, especially around dusk and dawn, we heard their haunting call.
I was hoping to see another loon or two when we took a sunset paddle, but alas we only crossed paths with a large group of hooded mergansers. I was prepared with my camera this time, though.
After dinner, Chris chopped a couple of humongous logs into oblivion, and the dry wood Debi and I had purchased along the way kept the stockpile going. Toasted on our front sides and chilled on the back sides, mesmerized by the glowing coals, we sipped wine and gossiped for hours about our acquaintances.
Our family always took camping trips when I was a kid, so this form of vacation always brings back childhood memories. I recalled how my mom would save up waxed half gallon milk cartons for the trips, and each night when bedtime approached, she would bring them out, one for me and one for my sister. She set them on the back of the fire pit and set them on fire. When they had burned down to ashes, we had to go to bed, no whining or cajoling for more time in front of the warm campfire allowed!
We didn’t have any such time restrictions on this trip, but by ten p.m. we were ready to call it a night and climb into our cocoons, lungs full of fresh pine-scented air, lulled to sleep by the loons.
Home away from home. (That was the name of our pop-up camper when we were kids by the way; Debbie and Chris have not named their small RV.)The merganser group takes in the sunset.Even a non-spectacular sunset is worth a paddle. Can’t complain about the one we got.Second day paddle started in Rollins, through a stream to Floodwater Pond and through more channels like this one ending eventually in Fish Creek Pond.
We’ve been spending the majority of our time during the pandemic and work from home experience in south central Pennsylvania, but occasionally we do need to dip back into our usual domain of Arlington, Virginia. One one of these occasions a couple of weeks ago, I decided to take a “walk on the wild side” on the Windy Run Trail.
This trail is only a short distance from our home, but offers a semi-wilderness-like tangle of trees and underbrush arrayed along a babbling stream (Windy Run, obviously). Although as you progress toward my usual goal, a dramatic bluff over-looking the Potomac River, the rushing sound of the stream gives way to the steam of rush-hour on the George Washington Memorial Parkway, which you cross under.
The day I sojourned along the trail, there were few other people astir, just a few dog walkers on close to the trail head. As I went deeper into the woods and up and down the steep portions on this muggy day, the air felt heavy and instead of feeling energized by the nature all around me, I began to feel slightly uneasy. I came for a short escape to nature, but the trees and the atmosphere started pressing down on me.
When I reached the underpass, the feeling accelerated. Graffiti referencing the killing of George Floyd was writ large along the metal beams. I caught my own breath as the full weight of the message “I can’t breathe” brought me back to the reality of our troubled country.
There is no escaping the news, the angry division of people, the fear and uncertainty. Nor should there be. It is the time and space we live in and must all confront daily. We live side by side with nature and human history, both at times beautiful but often ugly and disheartening.
I passed under the bridge with the traffic roaring above me and got to the other side. I stood on the high bluff gazing at the muddy waters of the Potomac. I felt a mix of emotions – awe at how untamed nature can still appear but cognizant of the fact that humans still fight so hard to control it, and each other.
Roll on, mighty river. Bring us some hope for better days.
The intersection of nature and human construction.Out of the suburbs and into the woods.Reality check.A view perhaps similar to what the early Patawomeks, on whose land I stood, might have encountered?
Getting creative is necessary in our “new normal.” Connecting creatively. Cooking creatively. Protesting creatively.
Along those lines, I have dusted off the sewing machine, tried new recipes, and – maybe most fun of all – started collaging with my friend Martha. I will admit, when Martha asked me if I wanted to “collage with her” via Skype, I said, “Huh?”
Collage seemed like something that went out with macrame (though I hear that is coming back, too?). But, since there are many old magazines around our premises just begging to be cut up and then recycled, I agreed to give it a try.
So, every couple of weeks, we call each other and chat while gluing little pieces of cut up magazines and other paper and even maybe fabric scraps onto pieces of paper to create some kind of artistic thing. The last two times I made cards, which to me seemed more useful than a potential wall hanging.
I am practical-minded, obviously, but the product is not the point. Its the companionship, the chat we have about whatever comes to mind or happened that day or week, which comes simultaneously with the art-making, that is the real exchange here.
In other creative endeavors, I have made some face masks out of old sewing projects for family and friends. I realized that some of the material in my scrap drawer is over 30 years old, but fabric doesn’t expire and it’s good to work it into something everyone is using everyday now (or should be use, but that is another story we won’t get into here).
As for cooking creatively, this can mean using whatever is in your pantry, or even engaging in a little friendly competition. My buddies (who I used to eat lunch with in the office) and I decided to stage a “pie baking competition” over July 4 weekend. Their’s were a lot prettier and more creatively crusted than mine, but we declared everyone a winner anyhow.
I just wish we had been able to share the pies with one another. Some day soon, we can all still hope. Meanwhile, we do what we can to stay connected.
Rainbow card collage. I sent it to my mom who likes rainbows.Sort of a sunrise or sunset type of feel. It’s all in the interpretation, right?Masks for my mom and sister. I can’t even recall what I originally made out of these cotton fabrics !Sweet potato pie which I tried to make prettier by photographing with day lilies! It tasted good at least even if it wasn’t really that pretty!
My Google photo feed sends me down memory lane with “revisit this day x years ago” and it is painful. The photos this week were all of past Smithsonian Folklife Festivals, where I would have been this year.. except that didn’t work out, right?
For over thirty years, until last year, I’ve been on the National Mall on July 4. It was just another work day, albeit one usually with even more people than usual especially toward the end of the day. And a staff barbecue and fireworks at the end.
This year we went digital, Beyond the Mall, on Facebook Live and YouTube, schedule here. (if you missed the live programs you can watch the recorded versions.) Our team worked on the June 24, July 2 and July 5 programs. It was a lot of work, but nothing compared to the intense planning and execution of doing the Festival on the Mall.
Several members of the Festival staff commented that they didn’t miss the triple H weather (hazy, hot and humid) and the pop-up thunderstorms. But that was all part of the package that came with in-person camaraderie with staff, volunteers, interns, participants, visitors. Hugs and handshakes and sharing good food and laughs.
Will we be back on the Mall next year? We really hope so. And if we are, we will complain about the heat and humidity just as much as always. But if we can gather together and do what we do best, it will be worth it.
Here are some of my photos from past Festivals. Visit us online and keep wishing and hoping for a better next year!
In 2018, we had our Bengali visitors in DC during the Festival. Here they shared our July 4 staff barbecue with a couple of our interns.2017 “Circus Science” tent with our clown educator friends from the Sarasota, Florida Circus Academy. 2016 Basque program kid’s area, the Txiki Txoko. How many times did we grouse about being swamped by summer day camps in their matching t-shirts? Bring ’em on!
Blogging in the time of the pandemic is, well, sort of boring. Not much really happens, so there’s not much to write about. And, people are so sick of screens that I’m not sure they need any more reading-on-a-screen.
But, still, what is a blog for anyhow? Mine, because I have relatively few readers, is as much a chronicle of where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing than something I think will ever go viral or have hundreds, much less thousands, of readers.
And, so, as usual I go through my latest photos to see what I’ve found interesting or important to document. Much of them had to do with getting outside in our portion of rural PA. Enjoy if you have not been able to do so yourself and stay safe!
We”ve been taking a lot of long walks in the woods. Finding new parks and new trails.I take a lot of photos of plants, sort of a digital herbarium. Then you can check their identity with a Google i.d. tool. This is mayapple which I should have known!)Revamp of garden previously mostly rocks and weeds! Thanks to our landscaping buddy, Tim, and his marvelous little digger.The late spring has meant more time to appreciate cherry blossoms. These were on the campus of the Mercersburg Academy.Driving around rural Pennsylvania you inevidibly come across some interesting industrial history like these old coke ovens that fed the steel industry in earlier times. Now a good place for wildflowers to grow.and theres this on nights when it’s clear…
