Lay Flat to Dry

I guess the white sweater was too tempting to pass up.

Still Snowed In

This is what our county posted regarding our unplowed road:

Residential Streets
* Plowing begins up to 36-48 hours after storm ends. One lane will be made passable* 2-3 days later. Expect snow-packed roads.

Excellent.

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

In a conversation with R last night, I blurted:

"People who don't eat dairy are stupid!"

Profound, I know.

The only difference I've noticed since cutting dairy, intense and constant cravings for cheese.

Many sources claim that a diet without dairy is actually much better for our bodies. Dairy has been associated with lethargy, weight-gain, and even migraines. Moreover, some people claim that without dairy, their skin looks and feels healthier.

I love dairy products. And up to now, I couldn't imagine life without cheese. But I'm taking the dairy-free challenge. For the next 24 days (December 1 to 24) I am cutting out meat and dairy from my diet. I am very interested to see if I feel any different by eliminating these foods from my body. I will also increase my weekly exercise to see if toning up will be easier on this diet.

It is an experiment. I am simply curious about the claims and if in 24 days I find no proof, I will return to a life with meat and cheese. I will be careful eat a vegetarian diet rich in protein and I will continue to take my daily vitamins.

Can't wait to report back!

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!





The food was excellent, but this was my favorite part of the holiday...

Jeanne-Claude: 1935-2009

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit the Smithsonian American Art Museum's highly nondescript warehouse where art is stored and staged for upcoming exhibitions. Each time I visit I am excited by the feeling that I am truly behind-the-scenes. But yesterday was a particularly special day because I was there to see the drawings that Christo made in his preparations for the Running Fence.

I have been working with the digitized drawings for months now, as I have been designing the exhibition catalogue that will accompany our show, Christo and Jeanne-Claude: Remembering the Running Fence, but there is always a feeling of surprise and exhilaration when I first see the actual work. Typically I am shocked by the size... Inevitably, my expectations were for something either much smaller or much larger. Then the moment shifts as I accept what is before me, and forget all about my preconceived notions.

One by one, we viewed 47 drawings. They ranged from pieces that were 8' wide by 3' high to pieces that were a mere 11" by 9". The time spent was quiet and intimate, as I took careful note of the colors of each work, in preparation for being on press in January.

When I got home yesterday, I felt revived by having spent time with actual artwork. Because the publication designers spend so much time in front of a computer, it's easy to forgot why we are doing what we are doing.

And then, this afternoon, I opened my email box to see a new message titled Jeanne-Claude Obituary. Naturally, I was speechless. This was completely unexpected. Last night, Jeanne-Claude died of complications from a brain aneurysm.

It's true that I'd never met Jeanne-Claude, but for quite some time I have been hearing stories about her and Christo, reading essays that are to be published in our catalogue, and working with hundreds of photographs that include images of Jeanne-Claude and Christo as they worked to create the Running Fence in the 1970s. It's been understood from the start that what I am doing now has been for them.

And now, even more so.

Read more here.

Moving into a new place often means inheriting the previous owners' oddities. For us, it was lavender walls, a completely black garage studio, mystery holes in the ceiling, and a plank of wood attached to the very top of a tree with a bungee cord. (The list is actually much longer, but I'll spare you.)

Slowly, we are tackling each project and putting our own stamp on things.

This weekend, it was leaves and climbing trees.

"It was Aunt Lovey's belief that all ordinary people led extraordinary lives, but just didn't notice."

I haven't posted a blog entry not because I don't try to think of something to say each and every day, but because I just can't find the extraordinary in my life. I'm sure if you got me on the phone, I could chatter away, but when I sit down to write, life seems so ordinary.

Quote from Lori Lansens' novel The Girls.

Tonight we leave for Lexington, Kentucky. It's been too long since we've been to the horse races at Keeneland. I am looking forward to some good ole fashioned gambling.

Are you familiar with Etsy.com?

Etsy is a website where "people who make things" can sell their work. Painters, sculptors, photographers, jewelers, knitters, book-makers, gardeners... you name it. They all gather on Etsy to showcase and sell their work.

I have purchased beautiful photography from several artists on the site. The transactions were very easy!

Check it out: www.etsy.com

In Savannah, I dealt with flying roaches; New Orleans, stinging caterpillars (my fingers swelled like hot dogs when I was stung); but since moving to D.C. my experience with bugs has been, thankfully, limited.

Until we moved into a house.

Except for the first dreadful apartment that we lived in for the first six months (which I oddly have no pictures of), each of our D.C. apartments was perfectly sealed from potential visitors. Our house is no different. But step outside, and it is like a visit to a zoo.

Ok, I'm exaggerating.

The truth is, we have seen ant colonies that rival the population of New York City; june bugs, beetles, spiders, moths, millions of crickets, a praying mantis (see my photo below) and even a writhing mound of maggots. But the two insects that shocked us (one for it's size and the other for it's size and unsightliness) were the wasps (huge) and the clearwing hummingbird moth (horrible.)




I managed a photo of the first giant wasp we killed (with my new DSLR!) and the photo of the clearwing hummingbird moth is ripped from the internet.

Unfortunately you don't get an idea of size in the wasp photo. But believe me, these things are huge! When straightened out, they are about two inches long.


The clearwing hummingbird moth is one of the most repulsive bugs I've ever seen. It looks like a moth, a bee, and a lobster.

And the reasons why we do NOT miss living in D.C.

1. As mentioned in an earlier post, the parking issues. For me, the lasting displeasure comes from the time when my parked car was totaled by an underage drunk driver. But there are also the tickets and the hours of driving in circles to find a parking spot
2. Not having any private space outdoors
3. The higher price of everything - gasoline, groceries, a pint of beer...
4. Holding my breath after hearing the screech of breaks...waiting for the sound of the collision
5. From the window of my home, hearing with clarity ,what each car stopped at the stoplight is listening to
6. The unbearably loud sound of buses passing our window
7. Not being able to hear someone speaking 6 feet in front of me because of the constant sound of the buses passing by our window
8. Waking up in the night to the deafening sound of tractor-trailer trucks downshifting
9. Putting doggy shoes on Sal so he can get down the stairs without slipping when the elevator goes out
10. Carrying groceries across a street and up to the third floor every time we went shopping
11. Constant horn honking and the overall impatience of D.C. drivers

I suppose there are some reasons why we might miss living in the city. Here are a couple:

1. The local bar(s)
2. The take-out restaurants where we knew what we were going to order without looking at a menu
3. The fact that take-out is available at all times
4. Walking to the grocery store
5. I miss being able to say we live in D.C. Now, we are just a couple of people from Maryland. Much less exciting :)

The truth is, I didn't take much advantage of city-living... especially in the last couple of years. During the last year and a half that we lived in the city, we lived in a cute neighborhood, but it was not downtown, as we'd lived before (Dupont Circle, Logan Circle.) I was no longer taking walks to local coffee places, or boutiques, or local bookstores, as I'd done often when we first moved from New Orleans. We were living in an apartment building among single-family homes. When Sal and I took our evening walk through the neighborhood, I would peer into the yards and homes and long for the single-family house lifestyle.

Now we have all of that; and I am hardly missing city living. I'm looking forward to sitting outside on the deck on an autumn night in sweaters and socks; winter evenings in front of the fireplace, shoveling the snow off of the driveway for the first time... and then spring and flowers and a vegetable garden that my grandfather would be proud of.

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad!

I wasn't kidding about the rabbit.

I can't believe that it has been three months and two days since we moved to the suburbs. Typically when we tell city-dwellers that we moved out to the burbs, we are met with gasps and pity. But the truth is, we are loving it out here.

Here are some reasons why we are happy with our decision to move to the suburbs of Washington D.C. after nearly 4 years of living in the city:

1. It’s quiet. Oh. So. Quiet.
2. There’s much less traffic.
3. Sometimes when I open the front door after dark, there is a rabbit sitting in my front yard.
4. I have a front yard. And a backyard too!
5. I can walk barefoot outside.
6. We could not have purchased a one-bedroom condo in the city for the amount we purchased our three-bedroom, two (soon-to-be three) bathroom house.
7. Friendly neighbors. We have met more neighbors in three months here, than we met in 4 years in the city.
8. I can paint the walls, hang artwork, change light fixtures, even bust out a wall without panicking about whether or not I'll get my deposit back.
9. Our monthly mortgage payment is an investment in our future - no longer a rental payment toward someone elses.
10. No more worries about our cars being scraped, bumped, or even totaled (!!!) while parked in the street.
11. We have a driveway. No more parking in the street.
12. I can plant flowers, vegetables, and herbs in places other than my windowsill.
13. Grilling.
14. I no longer need to share laundry facilities with 100 other people.
15. It only takes 20 minutes to drive to the Baltimore Airport.

And most importantly

16. Salinger has a large yard to run and play in.

R got stung in the face by a bee yesterday :(

It occurred to me today that I might be more like the person I dislike most in my office than I ever realized.

I've got some changing to do.

I just looked out my window and saw the cutest thing. The little boy that lives across the street is working with such concentration to clean his bike with Windex and a rag. This boy is about five years old. He spends a lot of time outside, playing by himself. While there are other children in the neighborhood, he is the youngest and rarely plays with the other kids.

He just took his bike out into the driveway and walked it around, looking at his detailing job. Noticing a spot, he wheeled it back into the garage and returned to his cleaning.

The train to Union Station was very very crowded this morning.

I'm psyched about composting.

I realize garbage is a strange thing to be excited about, but I am.

This weekend Ryan and I built a dual-action compost bin. It is "dual-action" because it will eventually be composting two different stages of compost at the same time.

Since our last trip to Asheville, where we met some great people and learned a lot about living a more environmentally-friendly, back-to-the-earth, sort of lifestyle, I've been interested in how we can apply more earth-conscious elements to our life.

According to the Environmental Protection Agency, "Yard trimmings and food residuals together constitute 24 percent of the U.S. municipal solid waste stream. That's a lot of waste to send to landfills when it could become useful and environmentally beneficial compost instead!"

Since I am planning my vegetable, herb, and flower garden for next spring, I figured I'd get a head start on my compost. I will save money on bags of soil and I'm significantly cutting down on the waste that's hauled off to the dump.

Links I used to research composting:
CompostInstructions.com/what-you-can-and-cannot-compost
www.composting101.com
www.lowes.com/lowes/lkn?action=howTo&p=LawnGarden/compostBin.html

Hello world! It's been a long time.... Since buying a house my blog has suffered, I haven't seen a movie in ages, and the only music I hear is in the car on the way to the train station. Every waking moment is either spent at work or working on the new abode...

We did, however, manage to get away for a long weekend in Asheville, NC. That was wonderful.
We may have found the next place we'll live.

I have plans to get back to the blog soon.

I haven't had a single garden tomato this year and that depresses the heck out of me.

A view of Hong Kong from my hotel.



A side street with market.



While Hong Kong was a fascinating place, every time I returned to the hotel after being out in the streets, I felt like I had to shower. The smog-laden humidity is so heavy it felt as if dirt was physically settling on my skin. The market streets were always wet with some mystery run off, and the buildings boasted layers and layers of grime.

An amusing juxtaposition of a filthy Hong Kong building and a gleaming Starbucks sign.

In addition to beautiful and exotic fruits, I am typically fascinated by the meats and seafood at foreign markets. In Italy, huge portions of beef, cured hams, and salami were displayed in cases or hanging from ceilings. It was really the most beautiful sight. It's true that tripe was popular as well, but my longing for the prosciutto and aged cheeses was far greater than any disgust I may have felt for the innards offered at the market.

In Hong Kong, meats were displayed in market booths, with butchers at the ready to prepare your desired cut. And though every piece of every animal was available, it was the lack of refrigeration that surprised me most.



A closer look at the Ox tail. At first, I thought this tail belonged to a horse!

By now, you know that I love visiting markets while I am traveling.  Past blog posts have featured the extraordinary Mercato Centrale in Florence, Italy and the many different markets of Singapore.  So, it's no surprise that I spent a lot of time exploring the street markets in Hong Kong.  They were fascinating and, at the same time, disgusting.  

While I was in HK, it seemed to be peak season for durian; the popular fruit that is so odiferous it is banned from public places including subways, malls, hotels, and even some businesses. Fruit stand workers commonly open them up, divide the fruit, and wrap the sections in plastic wrap to sell "ready-to-eat."  The market streets were heavy with the stench of this fruit. Travel and food writer Richard Sterling writes in his book The Traveling Curmudgeon:

... its odor is best described as pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock. It can be smelled from yards away. Despite its great local popularity, the raw fruit is forbidden from some establishments such as hotels, subways and airports, including public transportation in Southeast Asia.

By my last day on the island, I could barely stomach a stroll through these streets. 

Durian: Spiny and center stage.

Aside from the stink, Asian fruit stands are beautiful. Click photos to enlarge.

After almost an entire month of dead air, I'm sure many of you have tuned out, but please check back soon.  I have so many updates to post about.  Coming up:

My Trip to Hong Kong

Our Move to the Suburbs

Fourth of July in Kentucky

It's already June!  How does this happen?

I leave for Hong Kong on Friday.  I've been nervous about this trip for some time, and now that the AIR FRANCE plane has gone down over the ocean, I am out of my mind.

Check back before I leave, I have a post in the making.

Also, I hope to be posting from HK.

I was walking downtown last week and I saw a hospital gown discarded on the side of the road. That really made me curious.

On June 5th I leave for Hong Kong. Though the flight is still a long one:  2 hours to Chicago, and then 15 hours and 30 minutes to Hong Kong, this is actually a full 8 hours shorter than the flight to Singapore.

I am excited. But this time, I am also nervous.  I will be traveling alone and I will not be meeting anyone there.  

However, no matter how nervous I am for this trip, I just can't imagine how big the butterflies are in the stomachs of those headed to repair the Hubble Space Telescope.

I think I have established the fact that we have many unique individuals in our fair capital. For the record, a man about 35 years old was walking through the metro station this morning wearing sweatpants freshly soaked with his own urine. (And you are worried about me catching swine flu on the metro?!  A simple case of  H1N1 would be the best case scenario!) But these characters that dodge the social norms aren't all unique-awkward or unique-scary.

Rule Breaker #3 was an inspiration.

Standing in the center of a crowded train one night, I was squeezed aside by a girl making her way to the center of the train. She took the only available seat, asking the man who was sprawled across two seats to make room for her. He didn't look well. His head hung very long, his shoulders were slouched. I am sure this was partly why no one had asked him to move, despite the crowded car.

He moved to the window, crouching down, as he had been earlier, as if he was trying to get into an upright fetal position. A typical reaction to this atypical behavior is too remain still and look straight ahead. Most people wouldn't want to know what was up with this guy. Heck, most people wouldn't even share a seat with him.  But his new seat mate was not typical. She turned to him, tapped him on the shoulder and asked him if everything was all right. He looked up at about the same time my head swung around to make sure I'd heard her right. She repeated herself "Are you OK?" He smiled, yes yes, he's ok.

I was so taken with her.  I wanted to tell her at that very moment that she was incredible. It was the most simple act of kindness and it really moved me.

Rule Breaker #2

About a month ago I was standing on the platform waiting for the metro. It was after rush hour and trains weren't running so frequently.  Slowly, the platform filled with those of us in office attire, clearly working late, dog-tired and ready to get home. I was standing close to the edge, nose in a book. From behind me I hear the click of heels as another approaches the platform to wait.

It took me a minute or so to realize that the clicking of heels never really stopped, they simply turned into more erratic footsteps.  Without turning around to stare, I turned slightly to get a glimpse of the woman behind me.  She was a white woman in her mid-thirties, wearing black pumps, nylons, pencil-skirt, and a button-down shirt. She had ear buds in; an ipod in one hand and a blackberry in the other. Aside from her fancy footwork, she looked like just another government worker.

But no. She wasn't just another drone. She was a dancer! Despite the crowded platform and, oh yeah, the proper metro etiquette, this woman was getting down... and getting awfully close to the quickly gathering commuters.

It was hilarious. After a couple of stolen glances, I just turned around to watch. I think the best part was that she was so involved in her blackberry that she didn't have any idea that she was making a minor scene. 

Since living in a city and crossing paths with many people that one may not encounter in a small town, I have become much more aware of breached social norms.  

The most obvious offenders are the mentally-ill, typically homeless individuals who rarely turn my head, but instead stir the unanswered questions:  Who is looking out for you? Do you have any family? Why aren't we, as a society, providing for you?  

There are those that I see everyday who tug hard at my heart-strings, like the old woman at Metro Center and the gruff, clearly schizophrenic man, near Dupont Circle. I forge unlikely and completely fantastical relationships with them, planning the conversations we would have if I had the guts to talk to them; picking the hotel room I would rent for their hot shower and comfortable night's rest. But there are others for which I feel less sympathetic. Like the guy I pass almost every night after work that asks me for money. Maybe I should give up the grudge, but one night last summer when I lightly shook my head for lack of spare change, he yelled after me that I was a bitch and that my ass was big.

I don't stare, laugh, or shake my head at these individuals as they shatter social etiquette, I am sure many of them are simply unaware of these rules. But I do have to hold up my jaw or stifle a giggle when seemingly normal people completely disregard accepted behavior.

Rule Breaker #1

There is a girl in my neighborhood that frequently walks her dog down the street just outside our building. She is a twenty-something white girl who dons a ponytail, a beagle, and ear buds. My first encounter with her was from our third floor window. Ryan called me over to gape. Oblivious to the world, she walks her dog while belting out whatever song she is listening to. The hilarious part is 1. She is so loud we can hear her from our third floor window and 2. She is a terrible singer. Terrible.

I have seen her on other occasions, accessorized the same way (ponytail, dog, ear buds.) I've actually walked right by her. And she sing sing sings.

Check back soon for Rule Breaker #2.

I did a most unexpected thing on Saturday; I watched Little League.  It was the most beautiful day --- blue skies, 85 degrees.  As I walked toward the park I was secretly hoping to see a game, so I was quite happy to hear a small crowd cheer at the crack of ball-against-bat. I took my seat and watched the 'Orioles' play the 'Yankees.'

The players were so cute. They seemed to be between the ages of 10 and 12.  Some children were very tall, while others so tiny. The players ranged from the competitive and hot-tempered kids, quick to shout commands to the less experienced players, to the meek and mild-mannered kids who would likely rather be home reading.

Two players were hit with pitches. One in the head.  His helmet was knocked right off of his head. His first instinct was to cry. His face scrunched up, you could see he was in pain. But he immediately thought better of the tears and tried to tough it out.  Then, all of the coaches surrounded him and his face scrunched up again.  In the end, he fought off the pain and surprise of getting hit in the head and he took position at first base.  Watching this I realized that I was fighting  back the tears too!

A hot batch of crawfish, a beer, and the bayou.

While we were in New Orleans, there was a pirate conference going on.  That's right; a pirate conference.  So, the streets were filled with pirates, many carrying their very own pewter steins.

You must be a freak when the pirates start taking your picture.  Yes, that is a man with a cat on his shoulder.

Music in the streets of New Orleans...

As expected, it took us some time to recover from our trip to New Orleans.  Though the atmosphere of the city is relaxed, from the moment our feet hit NOLA ground, Ryan and I do not stop.  Please check back tomorrow for photos.

Tomorrow we leave for New Orleans. Last spring, when we visited for the first time since Katrina, the trip was an emotional one. Almost three years had lapsed between the storm and our visit and we spent much of the time picking through the remains of our old neighborhoods, old hangouts, and old memories. We marveled at the places that had come through with barely a scratch, and lamented those that did not survive.  This time, we trek back to build more memories in a city that we love.

Ryan and I have made this visit to New Orleans an annual priority.  While young, we hope build upon this tradition for years to come.

When I returned from my trip to Connecticut, I returned to an apartment building with no elevator. There was a bright yellow warning sign affixed to the door announcing this outage was indefinite. This wouldn't be such a problem if we didn't have a geriatric pup who is very afraid of descending stairs.  It's not so much that he can't do it, it is that he believes he can't and so he trips and falls every time.

Because Ryan can pick him up with no problem, he had been carrying Salinger up and down all weekend. But when Monday morning rolled around, I knew I would not be able to carry him down three floors.

Luckily, a friend of Ryan's also has an elderly dog and she'd been trying out various shoes that would help keep her dog from slipping. Just a week earlier, she gave Ryan a set of shoes (called PAWZ) to try on Sal. The shoes are made of a thick balloon-like material.  They stay in place, as they are tapered at the top, so the dog will not trip over the shoe itself (we have had this problem.)  PAWZ are not meant for long-term wear, as, obviously, a material like this doesn't let their feet breath.

These shoes are miracle workers!!  It only took minutes for Sal to get used to them, and once he realized he wouldn't slip, he was easily running up and down the stairs.  At first he was a little embarrassed, so I had to tell him how great he looked in his new kicks.  Here he is looking shy in his new shoes:

I am not big on breakfast. While I enjoy traditional breakfast fare, I rarely crave a spread of eggs, sausage, pancakes, toast, etc. However, I am a big believer in breakfast.  I think it is essential to kick-start your metabolism in the morning, and I know that a fiber-rich breakfast will keep me from snacking later in the afternoon.

So when I ran across this recipe, I was anxious to try it. These muffins are certainly filling. Equal parts oats and whole grain flour, without even a pinch of butter, make them a healthier choice than an Otis Spunkmeyer, but you can really taste the difference. They taste... healthy.  

It's just been 3 days since I've made these muffins and they are already pretty gross.  It must  be the applesauce and the blueberries, because the muffins are wet.  They even smell a little funny. Sadly, I would have to recommend against this recipe.

Oatmeal Blueberry Applesauce Muffins

Originally Published by Joy the Baker

Makes 12 - 15 muffins

1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour

1 1/4 cups oats

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1 cup unsweetened applesauce

1/2 cup low-fat buttermilk

1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar

2 tbsp canola oil

1 large egg, lightly beaten

3/4 cup blueberries (fresh or frozen)  -- I used one full cup

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper cases or spray with nonstick cooking spray.

In a large bowl, combine flour, oats, baking powder,  baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. In a medium bowl combine applesauce, buttermilk, sugar, oil, and egg.  Make a well in dry ingredients and add applesauce mixture. Stir until just moist. Fold in blueberries. Fill muffin cups 2/3 cups full.

Bake for 16 - 18 minutes.

It doesn't get much cuter than this.