Actually, I have never been there in April, I have experienced Paris twice, in winter. The first time was in January 1991, during the first Gulf War. The second time was for Christmas in about 2004.
The city is delightful in winter, the weather is moderate, not warm, but not cold and snowy (a disappointment the first time I was there, I was living in Florida at the time.)
I am read to go back.
The Violets are blooming here. They were one of my grandmother's favorites. Violets for color, lilies of the valley for smell. The Violets were blooming 25 years ago this week, when she died. Each spring the Violets remind me of her. They grow here as a wildflower, as they did on the farm. I miss her.
Last Saturday on the way home from my vaccine appointment, I decided to avoid the expressway construction and drive home on the back roads, taking me though old Fairfax City, Virginia. There is a quaint 3 or 4 block area with some building dating back as much as 200 years. A parking lot with open spaces was there as I was waiting for a traffic light, so I parked and walked around. There is a coin shop, I have not been in a coin shop in years. I thought about it, opened the door and took a look around. It was fun. It feels strange to stroll through a shop. I bought a proof set for the year J and I moved in together, and a 10-Franc coin from the first year I was in Paris. I still have cash, shops still accept it. I have only withdrawn cash once or twice in the past year, I use to do that every week. It felt good to shop, it felt good to support a local independent business.
When I was about 10, my grandmother told me if I saved my pennies I would be able to go to England someday (her birthplace.) I have hundreds of pounds of pennies collected since then. I have thought that one of my retirement projects might be to sit with a magnifying lamp, you know the ones mounted on a spring loaded arm over a desk, and sort them all by date and mint mark. That would keep me busy a couple of hours a day, for a few months. The coin shop had 5-gallon plastic buckets of coins sitting on the floor that they are sorting by date, mint, and grade.
I am in a busy work cycle, lots of things going on all at once. I need to remember to take time, to look up, down, right, left and ahead.
The photos above were taken in Normandy, in a restaurant that was definitely trying for Michelin stars. This was the short lunch menu.
A couple of weeks ago we were out running errands, looked at an LG in Lowes, found no one really helpful when I needed to know the size, space is limited. We stopped across the street at a local appliance store chain. The dealer handles mostly better brands. I told the Sandy the appliance guy what I was looking for and what my concerns are. Most of the top load stacked machines are cheap, made for apartments, and not the most durable. The full size front loaders can be stacked, but then the dryer controls end up 6 feet off the floor, and that can be a problem. The LG that we had looked at was a front loader, with controls for the washer and dryer in the middle, easy to reach. But a couple of people I know have had quality problems with LG.
Sandy said, I have the ideal machine, but it is kind of expensive. Speed Queen makes a front loading integrated stacked machine, washer on the bottom, dryer on the top. It was, well I will be blunt, and we usually don't talk about money, a little over $3,100, plus tax, plus delivery, plus $20 to haul away and recycle the old machine, all in just under $3,500. I have bought cars for less. I took the information, and the dimensions and went home to think about it. That is a ton of money, and I am stingy. I know the brand, they are very well made, made in the country, the machine may well outlive us. After a couple of days, I decided to stimulate the economy, and went back and ordered it.
Galloping Gertie was delivered, and before it finished running the first load I was calling saying this is not right. It shook, it vibrated, it moved itself around the room. They sent out a service guy, who spent about 5 minutes looked at it and said, the problem is the floor. It will work fine. He left, I ran another load, and I was afraid of the machine. It got worse. They sent out another tech, who leveled it, and adjusted the legs and said, if that doesn't fix it, tell them to replace it. It was better, but still it moved 8 inches forward and 4 inches sideways running one load. I emailed, I was too angry to talk.
They replaced it. Tech number 2, did the delivery and set up. About 30 minutes into it, he cursed, called his supervisor, speaking in rapid fire Spanish about the loco machina. When the call was finished I went in the kitchen to check on the carnage. He said, this is a new model, the guy who delivered the first one removed the delivery instructions, that had the location of the two new hidden shipping bolts, that have to be removed, or the machine tears itself apart. He pointed to the bolts in a plastic bag and said, this one will work. He was right. It works. It is fast, quiet, I hope it outlives us.
I remember it, because of the view (I was maybe 7 or 8 years old) and because we were allowed to stop and look. If I ever win big on the lottery, I will go buy it, or one in that neighborhood with that amazing view to stare off into.
Then things took an odd turn, the local host of the training had a change of staff, a period when they didn't reply to messages, then just a few days before I was set to fly out, we were told that they hadn't told anyone about the planned training and were only expecting 4 or 5 attendees. The decision was made to cancel the training. Not my decision, not what I would have done. I have always felt that if I reach one person who actually does good with what I have to say, and makes someone's life better, my time was well spent. Besides, I was paid a flat fee, it didn't matter to me if there were 5 people or 500 people in the room.
So there I am left with a hotel room paid for in San Francisco for the weekend. I spent a few minutes being upset, and mad, then thought, well why not go anyway? I checked and Delta had frequently flyer seats available. I checked with my sweet bear, who said GO! So I did. I had a wonderful time in San Francisco. Saw sights I had not seen on my first visit, and really enjoyed the weekend. The room was nice, with an amazing view of Coit Tower and the Bay.
On the trip home, things took an unexpected turn. Someplace over Texas, at about 38,000 feet, the movie stopped playing, the lights went out, then about 10% of the lights came back on. I was watching one of the Lethal Weapon movies, they had just shot up the bottom of a swimming pool, I never did see the rest of the movie. Within a couple of minutes the flight crew came on the public address system, and said there was a problem with the electrical generating system, and rather than going to Atlanta, we would be on the ground in Dallas shortly. They weren't kidding we went from 38,000 feet to on a runway in Dallas in about 10 minutes, when we taxied up to a gate, there was smoke pouring out from the engine on my side. Apparently an alternator had failed, and the other one overloaded and failed.
In Dallas I was redirected onto another flight going to Atlanta. I missed the last flight out of Atlanta to my home airport. Delta put me in the nicest Hyatt near the airport for the night, flew me home the next morning.
An interesting trip that almost didn't happen, almost didn't end well.
I have joined a Facebook group, Virginia and Virginia Photographers and I am enjoying both posting and seeing what others post. I am not from here, but I have grown to feel comfortable here. Northern Virginia, the DC metro area is a modern world Capital, an easy place for me to be comfortable. Rural Virginia is harder for me, generations of racism, sexism and isolation make it culturally and socially backward.
The simple question, where are you from, often brings an answer from me of "that's complicated." I have lived in 5 states, mid-west, southwest, south east and mid-Atlantic. I have no desire to return to the place I was born in Michigan, if not for family I would almost never visit. Phoenix was 55 years ago, though the landscape still makes me homesick. I will be forever connected to Florida (I have a professional license there,) but I have no desire to return to living in the hurricane zone, and the conservative nutters have taken over state government. I will be forever connected to Kentucky (I have a professional license there,) but we never wanted to live there, we went there for opportunities (that treated us VERY WELL.) So here I am in the DC burbs, for a dozen plus years now. My job requires me to live here, and I hope the job lasts another 3 years (then I will retire - promise!) But is it home?
So is home where I am now? Where I am from? If so which place that I am from? Where I want to be? My father use to answer, "home is where I hang my hat, and I don't wear a hat anymore."
For me, for now, feeling a connection to a place, feeling intune with the season and the landscape, makes me feel at home.
Do you live in a place that feels like home for you?
On the farm when I was growing up, we had a small raspberry patch, blackberries grew wild (as they do along the walk from the condo to the metro station), and at one point we had a couple acres of strawberries, down from five acres before I was born. Blueberries we didn't have on the farm, there was a pick-your-own commercial blueberry farm about 20 minutes away and we went several times.
We keep a covered bowl of soft fruits in the refrigerator most of the time. Blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries most of the time. We wash them, lightly sweeten them. A bowl of them is often my breakfast.
Honeybees have a rather boring sex life, a Queen mates several times, generally all on one flight, and is fertile for life. In cold climates when rearing a new queen is not possible over the winter, the workers force all of the drones (males) out into the freezing cold. They they will raise more men in the spring when they might need them.
Birds, a few weeks ago I saw two male geese fighting over a female, I had never seen that. The male cardinals molt and have the brightest red feathers of the year, showing off, looking for a mate. The male cardinals call is distinctive, but delivered with little apparent effort. The male Red Wing Blackbird, really does not change much in appearance, but the mating call involves the entire bird. From the tip of the beak, the the tip of the tale, the entire bird convulses.
Then there was this in the parking lot at the wildlife refuge.
G.B. got lost between cloud layers in the middle 1970's and narrowly found his way to an airport. After that the company provided him with a pilot whenever he wanted to go anyplace. The screw and bolt company was sold to a mega conglomerate in the mid 70's, the airport was operated by G.B.'s son Kent for another decade or so, then sold.
It is known, it is iconic, because of publicity. Part of the deal to raise the funding to build it, and fund the trip, was a commitment to publicity. A long publicity tour. The goal was to make St Louis famous, the plane the pilot are become famous. St. Louis? It does have the Arch, and a train to the airport.
I was born in late summer, would I be less than a year old here, or about 18 months old? I am guessing 18 months, that would make my sister about 3 years old.
1: Did the Easter bunny visit your house this year?
2: What was your favorite candy as a child?
3: Have you dyed eggs for a holiday?
4: Can you fold your foot back under yourself like that?
5: Any idea what my sister was thinking?
My answers:
1: Did the Easter bunny visit your house this year? A couple of weeks ago.
2: What was your favorite candy as a child? Chocolate, still is.
3: Have you dyed eggs for a holiday? Yes, a few times as an adult, but not recently.
4: Can you fold your foot back under yourself like that? Not any more.
5: Any idea what my sister was thinking? There is no way he is going to eat that!
Please share your answers in the comments.
The Eagles are staying close to the nests
In a hollow tree
You hear them before you see them
Any idea what kind of bird this is?
On a foggy wet morning, photograph the spider webs
Pretty Bird
My almost waterproof hiking shoes
One of the very first spring flowers
Mary Berry's Sweet Crust
150 grams of butter (I use salted butter for everything)
225 grams of all purpose flour
25 grams of sugar
1 egg
Cold water
I cut the butter into smaller chunks, and process the butter, flour and sugar in a food processor for 10-30 second, until it forms a fine crumb. Add the egg and wiz for a few seconds until well incorporated. Dribble in cold water until the dough starts to form a ball. How much water, might be a tablespoon or two, might be 1/8 or 1/4 of a cup, it depends on the day, go slow, watch it, try not to overdo the water. Refrigerate the dough for 20-30 minutes, or toss it in the freezer for 10 minutes if you are in a hurry.
Generously flour your work surface, rolling pin and the top of the dough and roll out. Be very careful to not let the pastry sense your fear, if it does it will stick or get tough.
For most pies, I pre-bake the pastry. Line with baking parchment, fill with pie beans (I keep 2 pounds of red kidney beans for this, reusing them forever) bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 20 minutes, remove the paper and beans and bake another 20-25 minutes.
Fear not, or it will sense your fear.
For a savory filling, leave out the sugar, and add a generous pinch of salt.
I am trying to plan a little get away this summer. We will both be fully vaccinated, as safe as we can be - but I don't want to risk infecting someone else. So I emailed a couple of people recently to ask if they had been vaccinated, if they were up to a visit. One didn't bother replying, I won't bother visiting, another person replied with concerns about the vaccine saying, "I don't want to die from the China Virus, and I don't want to die from an allergic reaction to the vaccine." It is someone I love, I have found myself unable to respond to the inherent racism of the statement. As violence against persons of Asian ancestry rises in the country, this is simply unacceptable, cross one more person off the list of people I won't go out of my way to visit.
I catch myself from time to time. Recently I struck up a conversation about the birds along the swamp trail with an unfamiliar person. I asked "if he lived nearby" and then stood there thinking to myself, that could easily be interpreted as "you don't look like you belong around here." Not what I meant, but it could easily make someone feel unwelcome.
I will keep working on being a better person. Raising the unconscious to the conscious is a critical first step.
Three months, into the year, an update on goals.
I am reading books at twice the pace I expected, I am getting my daily walks in and keeping a journal of my walks, I am blogging daily, I am adding lots of photos to the archive, learning a few new birds, I need to be more active reaching out to people, I need to write more stories. For work I have done a couple of interviews for YouTube, kinda fun.
My work calendar for April and May are a zoo, lots of work, lots of interesting things going on.
