If we had driven another six or so hours, we could have done an Atlantic to Pacific road trip. We decided we've seen the Pacific, so we halted in Arizona. This was the best/worst trek yet. Moving out of Richmond was horrible! The movers I hired to help us get the stuff off the second floor and into the trailer didn't show up. Gosh, I wonder why? The temps were freezing, and the skies were dropping freezing rain and sleet all day long. We delayed a day in Richmond, so we weren't pulling the trailer over frozen roads. The following two days were the most difficult driving days Drake has experienced. Day one out of Richmond was constant rain and gusting winds. Day two out of Richmond was a persistent headwind. The 'best' parts were a new route and staying with friends throughout each leg of the trip.
We headed south to avoid winter and thus saw new scenery and towns. We saw two Greenville's (South Carolina and Alabama), went to NOLA and had a splendid dinner while catching up with a long time friend. Next, we hit Houston staying with an even longer time friend. We saw Hurst and more friends as well as our dentist and hairdresser coming and going to Tulsa to see family. Then, ten days in Austin for a great Christmas celebration with the newlyweds and family. See? Our life is so typical. We pulled into Sun City yesterday afternoon, so both yesterday until dark and all day today has been pulling things in and out of the trailer trying to get reorganized. What I want to know is how did we manage to fill a LARGE box with stuff to give away. Where has this stuff been hiding?
There were Christmas cards waiting for me in Sun City. I sent out a Christmas letter while 'on the road' this year. (Aren't you impressed?) The return address on my letter created an extended Christmas when I returned to Arizona and found about 20 cards waiting for me. I really got caught short this year. All my Christmas stuff was still in Arizona when I was on the East coast. For some reason, I thought I'd be back here before Christmas and be able to pick it all up. I do have a traveling Christmas box, and a stack of already bought Christmas cards ready for sending. They didn't do me any good at all sitting in my Christmas storage closet in the desert. The worst thing was all the Christmas music was trapped in the Arizona house.
I discovered some new techniques this year for keeping in touch at Christmas. First, Jacquie Lawson (my favorite electronic card maker) has a "Christmas Letter" card. Next year, I'm going to save $37.50 in stamps and contribute to the downfall of the United States Post Office. Also, one of my smart friends studded her 'Christmas Letter' with pictures! Why didn't I think of that. The Shutterfly/Picabo/ type websites will let you create your own 'card' of photos and we got several of these. I really like those picture cards especially from folks I haven't seen for awhile. And, if you wrote me a letter and put it into your card - well, I like you best. Outstanding Card this year goes to the friend that lives in Rusk - you know who you are - with runner up being from Sarah Lynn's namesake.
Drake wins best present. I saw this wonderful handbag in Amish country over Thanksgiving, and Drake ordered it for me for Christmas! It was a complete surprise. I'm now part of an extended game playing family - in the good way, like board games - not psychological drama, and we played one of the new type colonization games which after a couple of times playing left me not much of a fan. Sarah and Jay introduced another new game called "Set" which is an interesting game of perception and shape recognition. I'm not particularly good, but it was fun to play - very fast and quick. One good thing about Christmas this year is people gave us homemade treats, an entire candy basket, and the women in the family split the cooking duties. We also saw lots of movies. The winner of best movie was 'American Hustle'. I've still got a few more to see, but, alas, Phoenix, AKA the Cultural Wasteland, doesn't have a single theater that shows limited release movies.
Soon, we will be back at the bridge table. I've only forgotten everything we perfected last year since we have played ONCE since we left Arizona. The exercise club/swimming pools are also calling my name, and after the Christmas food blow-out, I'm actually ready to get back to it. We have already drawn up a list of 'stuff ' to do at the house. Keep in mind we've been here ONE DAY, and Drake was licking his pencil lead, listing and prioritizing.
Finally, we made our first Arizona deadline: WATCHING THE SUGAR BOWL 2014. I just have one thing to say: BOOMER, SOONER! Let's go, Oklahoma.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Friday, December 13, 2013
The World's Greatest Dessert
Dear Readers: The following entry is a guest blog from my favorite person.
The World's Greatest Dessert is the Profiteroles served at Mr. B's Bistro on Royal Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans. This knowledge is based on years of culinary research as well as our sentimental history with the Mr. B's restaurant. Even my memorable 1980 Paris chocolate souffle can't quite measure up to the Mr. B's specialty. And like a slick advertising spin doctor, I make this audacious claim since it can only be debated, not refuted legally or scientifically.
This week we drove the southern route from Virginia to Texas both to avoid the winter weather and also visit our good friends in New Orleans and Houston. During the Crescent City stopover we made the opportunity for dinner with our friend, Martha, at Mr. B's, our favorite New Orleans restaurant. (The "B" is for Brennan, the most famous multi-generational restaurant family in New Orleans.) Mr. B's not only has great food which we enjoyed many times when we lived near the Big Easy in the 1980's, but it is also linked to special memories involving our daughter, Sarah.
It has been about 20 years since we ate at Mr. B's, so we couldn't be entirely sure the experience would measure up to the memories. The restaurant was full on a Wednesday night, but the atmosphere was the same comfortable buzz we remembered. Thankfully, even the Katrina disaster didn't destroy, or even essentially change, the many French Quarter restaurant landmarks. Our meals were tremendous, including a nice familiar Oregon wine, excellent service, and especially the WGD capstone. Their profiteroles were one of the key drawing cards to return to Mr. B's for our one evening meal on this New Orleans trip. It was a great relief to still find them on the menu.
A profiterole is a baked puff pastry about the size of a golf ball, cut in half, filled with vanilla ice cream and topped with chocolate sauce. (Mr. B's serves three on a plate suitable either for sharing or gluttony. On this night Jan and I both chose gluttony.) We've tried so called profiteroles elsewhere many times in hopes of
matching the Mr. B's excellence, always with some degree of disappointment. The real thing, to be great, must have each of the three components in perfect harmony. The pastry has to be baked fresh to a precise degree of stiffness/softness. The ice cream must not be too hard or too soft. The sauce can only be a rich dark chocolate. If the pastry ice cream ball is not the right consistency, the dessert can not be eaten with a fork or spoon without falling apart or shooting off the plate. It's important to get small bites easily with all the elements present. We've had many impostors with the pastry too crunchy or too soggy, or the ice cream too hard or melting, or topped with cheap milk chocolate. Anyway, the recent version was just what we remembered - perfection again. I was certainly happy with the decision not to share.
The other draw for Mr. B's has to do with specific 1985 memories. At the time, I worked in downtown New Orleans in a Poydras street skyscraper, a five minute walk from the Quarter. I invited Jan downtown for lunch on September 25, her birthday. Jan was pregnant with Sarah, about one week from delivery per her doctor's latest forecast. We started at Mr. B's for lunch, then walked all around the French Quarter that hot day, through Jackson Square, stopping in Jan's favorite perfumery, Hove, on Royal Street for a birthday gift. (Jan would have remembered it being hot that day under the circumstances regardless of actual conditions. I checked the historical data. That September 25th high was 90 degrees with humidity over 80%, so yeah, it was hot.) That evening friends invited us to a special birthday dinner at Commander's Palace, considered by many to be the best New Orleans restaurant. I don't remember much about that dinner because driving home from Commander's, Jan went into labor. Sarah was born about noon the next day.
Two months later after a couple of successful fast food outings with infant Sarah, we decided to treat ourselves with another visit to Mr. B's. It was a disaster. A few minutes after ordering our meals, Sarah had a melt down. I don't know what triggered the outburst - maybe smells or noises or internal physical distress - but we couldn't shut it down. Finally, we had to take her outside and wait for our expensive meals being packaged to 'go'. Anyway, it was our first lesson in the risks and the importance of preparedness when including a small child in adult social situations. That experience propelled Jan to become an expert child entertainer in nice restaurants.
So, our return visit to Mr. B's this week was an enormous delight, for the good company and wonderful food for sure, but also, to reinforce those 1985 memories associated with the most important single event in our lives so far. Jan even got to enjoy the Hove Perfumery in person again after many years of relying on mail order shopping.
Delectably Submitted,
Drake
The World's Greatest Dessert is the Profiteroles served at Mr. B's Bistro on Royal Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans. This knowledge is based on years of culinary research as well as our sentimental history with the Mr. B's restaurant. Even my memorable 1980 Paris chocolate souffle can't quite measure up to the Mr. B's specialty. And like a slick advertising spin doctor, I make this audacious claim since it can only be debated, not refuted legally or scientifically.This week we drove the southern route from Virginia to Texas both to avoid the winter weather and also visit our good friends in New Orleans and Houston. During the Crescent City stopover we made the opportunity for dinner with our friend, Martha, at Mr. B's, our favorite New Orleans restaurant. (The "B" is for Brennan, the most famous multi-generational restaurant family in New Orleans.) Mr. B's not only has great food which we enjoyed many times when we lived near the Big Easy in the 1980's, but it is also linked to special memories involving our daughter, Sarah.
It has been about 20 years since we ate at Mr. B's, so we couldn't be entirely sure the experience would measure up to the memories. The restaurant was full on a Wednesday night, but the atmosphere was the same comfortable buzz we remembered. Thankfully, even the Katrina disaster didn't destroy, or even essentially change, the many French Quarter restaurant landmarks. Our meals were tremendous, including a nice familiar Oregon wine, excellent service, and especially the WGD capstone. Their profiteroles were one of the key drawing cards to return to Mr. B's for our one evening meal on this New Orleans trip. It was a great relief to still find them on the menu.
A profiterole is a baked puff pastry about the size of a golf ball, cut in half, filled with vanilla ice cream and topped with chocolate sauce. (Mr. B's serves three on a plate suitable either for sharing or gluttony. On this night Jan and I both chose gluttony.) We've tried so called profiteroles elsewhere many times in hopes of
The other draw for Mr. B's has to do with specific 1985 memories. At the time, I worked in downtown New Orleans in a Poydras street skyscraper, a five minute walk from the Quarter. I invited Jan downtown for lunch on September 25, her birthday. Jan was pregnant with Sarah, about one week from delivery per her doctor's latest forecast. We started at Mr. B's for lunch, then walked all around the French Quarter that hot day, through Jackson Square, stopping in Jan's favorite perfumery, Hove, on Royal Street for a birthday gift. (Jan would have remembered it being hot that day under the circumstances regardless of actual conditions. I checked the historical data. That September 25th high was 90 degrees with humidity over 80%, so yeah, it was hot.) That evening friends invited us to a special birthday dinner at Commander's Palace, considered by many to be the best New Orleans restaurant. I don't remember much about that dinner because driving home from Commander's, Jan went into labor. Sarah was born about noon the next day.
Two months later after a couple of successful fast food outings with infant Sarah, we decided to treat ourselves with another visit to Mr. B's. It was a disaster. A few minutes after ordering our meals, Sarah had a melt down. I don't know what triggered the outburst - maybe smells or noises or internal physical distress - but we couldn't shut it down. Finally, we had to take her outside and wait for our expensive meals being packaged to 'go'. Anyway, it was our first lesson in the risks and the importance of preparedness when including a small child in adult social situations. That experience propelled Jan to become an expert child entertainer in nice restaurants.
So, our return visit to Mr. B's this week was an enormous delight, for the good company and wonderful food for sure, but also, to reinforce those 1985 memories associated with the most important single event in our lives so far. Jan even got to enjoy the Hove Perfumery in person again after many years of relying on mail order shopping.
Delectably Submitted,
Drake
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Leaving Virginia
We're leaving Virginia, and we're heading to Texas for the Christmas holidays. The week we get ready to move on should be smooth sailing by now, but, alas, not so much. This week is just about the only time you can hear quarrels in the Smith house. Drake is completely unreasonable, cranky, snide, obsessive, and exhibits every other bad behavior of which he is abundantly capable. Of course, you can say DITTO about me. Drake always thinks we have 'too much stuff', and I'm all about, 'you can fit this in'. Makes for spirited discussions; a little euphemism that involves raised voices, finger pointing, and arm waving. This move at the end of autumn and the beginning of winter is always weather dicey, and the forecast for Richmond this coming weekend is shaping up to make us nervous. We both have memories of the 12 inch snowfall in New Hampshire the day before we were due to leave.
I'm usually ready to 'move on', but not so much this time. I really like Richmond. I do recognize we've experienced only the best weather here, but I like the livability of this town, and the living pace. I'm wild about the visual aspects of this town. The trees are gigantic and the mixed forest of deciduous and evergreen defines the topography wherever you look. There are hardy flowers (zillions of crepe myrtles) and trees with colored leaves (such as Japanese maple) planted everywhere. This town is also compact. You can zip around quickly which opens up the entire city no matter in what area you live. The beach is an easy drive as are the mountains. Then, there's the American history that has shaped Virginia in the Colonial period and during the Civil War.
Richmond isn't cosmopolitan in that Eastern seaboard way. For instance, last night we went to their excellent Botanical Garden which is wired with lights for the Christmas season. It was sweet and fun, but obviously a big local effort by staff and volunteers to transform the garden into a Christmas lights display for the city. They even had a toy train layout in the botanical library set up by a local group and manned by volunteers. It reminded me not of a professional production as much as when a neighborhood becomes known for 'the Christmas lights'. It felt real and fun. We saw multi-generational families, but also lots of teens out on group dates.
This town has all the usual generic franchise restaurants, but also a thriving community of individual restaurateurs. There's a live theater on the usual Broadway circuit, a symphony and a fledgling ballet. We were also thrilled to see they had a Bow Tie Criterion Movie Theater - what most people would have called 'an art movie house' at one time, but is really a theater that specializes in limited release pictures. We've seen some of my favorite movies at this theater chain. Richmond also has a fabulous fine arts museum housed in a breathtaking building. There are historic neighborhoods here with interesting architecture.
I won't bother to recite all the things we've done while here, but I think I could live in this area another six months before I saw all of what I would consider to be 'major attractions'. Drake claims we have seen the 'best', and he's probably right. I think the depth of historical sites and museums I'm willing to see is a couple of feet deeper than his.
One good thing about the upcoming 'move on' is we get to try a new route across the country - the 'southern' route which will allow us to catch up with some old friends along the way and help us dodge winter snow and ice. The prize for leaving is 10 days in Austin with a wonderful extended family Christmas which we are all eagerly anticipating. We'll be back in Arizona for the winter. Time to visit our furniture.
I'm usually ready to 'move on', but not so much this time. I really like Richmond. I do recognize we've experienced only the best weather here, but I like the livability of this town, and the living pace. I'm wild about the visual aspects of this town. The trees are gigantic and the mixed forest of deciduous and evergreen defines the topography wherever you look. There are hardy flowers (zillions of crepe myrtles) and trees with colored leaves (such as Japanese maple) planted everywhere. This town is also compact. You can zip around quickly which opens up the entire city no matter in what area you live. The beach is an easy drive as are the mountains. Then, there's the American history that has shaped Virginia in the Colonial period and during the Civil War.
Richmond isn't cosmopolitan in that Eastern seaboard way. For instance, last night we went to their excellent Botanical Garden which is wired with lights for the Christmas season. It was sweet and fun, but obviously a big local effort by staff and volunteers to transform the garden into a Christmas lights display for the city. They even had a toy train layout in the botanical library set up by a local group and manned by volunteers. It reminded me not of a professional production as much as when a neighborhood becomes known for 'the Christmas lights'. It felt real and fun. We saw multi-generational families, but also lots of teens out on group dates.
This town has all the usual generic franchise restaurants, but also a thriving community of individual restaurateurs. There's a live theater on the usual Broadway circuit, a symphony and a fledgling ballet. We were also thrilled to see they had a Bow Tie Criterion Movie Theater - what most people would have called 'an art movie house' at one time, but is really a theater that specializes in limited release pictures. We've seen some of my favorite movies at this theater chain. Richmond also has a fabulous fine arts museum housed in a breathtaking building. There are historic neighborhoods here with interesting architecture.
I won't bother to recite all the things we've done while here, but I think I could live in this area another six months before I saw all of what I would consider to be 'major attractions'. Drake claims we have seen the 'best', and he's probably right. I think the depth of historical sites and museums I'm willing to see is a couple of feet deeper than his.
One good thing about the upcoming 'move on' is we get to try a new route across the country - the 'southern' route which will allow us to catch up with some old friends along the way and help us dodge winter snow and ice. The prize for leaving is 10 days in Austin with a wonderful extended family Christmas which we are all eagerly anticipating. We'll be back in Arizona for the winter. Time to visit our furniture.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Thankfulness
The United States official Thanksgiving Day was started by Abraham Lincoln in 1863. Talk about a bad year. Constant bloody battles from January through December with Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and Chickamauga being the low lights. On the plus side it was also the year of the Emancipation Proclamation and the Gettysburg Address. The idea of Thanksgiving was actually proposed by Sarah Hale, the editor of Godeys Lady's Book, the most popular womens' magazine of the 19th century. Thanksgiving to her was to be a 'great Union festival'. Lincoln's 1863 Proclamation of a Day of National Thanksgiving made the point even in the midst of a terrible war there were things to be thankful for.
Somehow, by the 20th century, Lincoln's connection to Thanksgiving was pretty much forgotten. Pilgrims and Indians eating turkey as buddies had become our cultural memory of something the teacher called "The 'First Thanksgiving'. Having just had a short course in the history of Colonial America and specifically in the relations between the Native Americans and the English - well, let's just say, "First Thanksgiving" should probably be renamed "Eat, Drink & Be Merry, for Tomorrow You Will Die".
About 1960 in homes across America, the holiday became linked with football on television. Some great college rivalry games grow up around the holiday. The iconic Thanksgiving game for me is Oklahoma Sooners vs. Nebraska Cornhuskers, 1971. (We lost, but it was a great game.) As pro football increases in popularity, the Thanksgiving Day pro football game becomes as iconic in American households as the turkey dinner. The Dallas Cowboys are the traditional team, so much so, that EVERYONE today who works for the Cowboy organization ALWAYS works T-day because the Cowboys always play football that day. I understand Jerry serves a magnificent dinner for all.
This is a strange holiday for America. There are no parties, no costumes, no gifts, no festive decorations, no fireworks, and a set menu. We might have enchiladas, nachos, hot dogs, hamburgers, lasagna, ham or tamales for Christmas, but, for Thanksgiving we eat turkey followed by pie. People travel thousands of miles to sit down at a table and eat with their families. Boyfriends/Girlfriends are introduced. Engagements are announced. Babies are admired. Divorces are discussed. Dead family members are mourned. Everyone has their favorite dish made by their mom, grandma, or aunt. There are recipes handed down for this dinner. Very few men get a mention here. This is a woman's holiday. We plan it, coordinate it, worry about it, fix it (or buy it pre-made and put our 'touches' on it) and triumph in it.
My childhood Thanksgiving memory is from my mother's large family. The meal is over. The males are long gone from the table. They're mostly napping in the guise of watching 'the game'. Most of the men in my family over a certain age unashamedly unbuckled their belts and opened the first button on their pants as they settled into the couch and chairs. My grandfather just flat went to bed after dinner. He worked shift work his whole life, and with six kids, he could sleep through anything.
Meanwhile, all the women of the family are still sitting at the dish and food strewn table smoking and drinking coffee and 'picking' at bits of food. I was about 10 when I wasn't shooed out of the dining room at the end of the meal. It was implicitly understood that year I could stay with the women, but I was definitely supposed to be silent. I don't remember being bold enough to speak at this table gathering until I was about 14. Mostly, I don't recall any of the actual conversations at this post Thanksgiving table, only the tones of laughter and sometimes sadness. I do remember after a couple of hours or so at this women's gathering, the collective sigh, followed by, "Let's get to these dishes."
I do think Lincoln got it right - Thanksgiving is about realizing that no matter how lousy your year, there are always blessings in your life. I think if you are too cool to be thankful, or too jaded, or too depressed, or too busy, then you're missing the greatest pleasure of the holiday - contemplating your blessings and giving thanks for them. I love to ask people this question: For what are you truly thankful this year? Consider the answer. It will ensure you a
Somehow, by the 20th century, Lincoln's connection to Thanksgiving was pretty much forgotten. Pilgrims and Indians eating turkey as buddies had become our cultural memory of something the teacher called "The 'First Thanksgiving'. Having just had a short course in the history of Colonial America and specifically in the relations between the Native Americans and the English - well, let's just say, "First Thanksgiving" should probably be renamed "Eat, Drink & Be Merry, for Tomorrow You Will Die".
About 1960 in homes across America, the holiday became linked with football on television. Some great college rivalry games grow up around the holiday. The iconic Thanksgiving game for me is Oklahoma Sooners vs. Nebraska Cornhuskers, 1971. (We lost, but it was a great game.) As pro football increases in popularity, the Thanksgiving Day pro football game becomes as iconic in American households as the turkey dinner. The Dallas Cowboys are the traditional team, so much so, that EVERYONE today who works for the Cowboy organization ALWAYS works T-day because the Cowboys always play football that day. I understand Jerry serves a magnificent dinner for all.
This is a strange holiday for America. There are no parties, no costumes, no gifts, no festive decorations, no fireworks, and a set menu. We might have enchiladas, nachos, hot dogs, hamburgers, lasagna, ham or tamales for Christmas, but, for Thanksgiving we eat turkey followed by pie. People travel thousands of miles to sit down at a table and eat with their families. Boyfriends/Girlfriends are introduced. Engagements are announced. Babies are admired. Divorces are discussed. Dead family members are mourned. Everyone has their favorite dish made by their mom, grandma, or aunt. There are recipes handed down for this dinner. Very few men get a mention here. This is a woman's holiday. We plan it, coordinate it, worry about it, fix it (or buy it pre-made and put our 'touches' on it) and triumph in it.
My childhood Thanksgiving memory is from my mother's large family. The meal is over. The males are long gone from the table. They're mostly napping in the guise of watching 'the game'. Most of the men in my family over a certain age unashamedly unbuckled their belts and opened the first button on their pants as they settled into the couch and chairs. My grandfather just flat went to bed after dinner. He worked shift work his whole life, and with six kids, he could sleep through anything.
Meanwhile, all the women of the family are still sitting at the dish and food strewn table smoking and drinking coffee and 'picking' at bits of food. I was about 10 when I wasn't shooed out of the dining room at the end of the meal. It was implicitly understood that year I could stay with the women, but I was definitely supposed to be silent. I don't remember being bold enough to speak at this table gathering until I was about 14. Mostly, I don't recall any of the actual conversations at this post Thanksgiving table, only the tones of laughter and sometimes sadness. I do remember after a couple of hours or so at this women's gathering, the collective sigh, followed by, "Let's get to these dishes."
I do think Lincoln got it right - Thanksgiving is about realizing that no matter how lousy your year, there are always blessings in your life. I think if you are too cool to be thankful, or too jaded, or too depressed, or too busy, then you're missing the greatest pleasure of the holiday - contemplating your blessings and giving thanks for them. I love to ask people this question: For what are you truly thankful this year? Consider the answer. It will ensure you a
Happy Thanksgiving
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Are Manners Obsolete in the 21st Century?
I sent a package of books recently as a Christmas gift for a child. "Dad" promptly got on email and let me know not only they had arrived, but he appreciated my thoughtfulness. Sadly, I was surprised. As the electronic age is starting to percolate steadily throughout our society, and with all our new found ways of keeping in touch with one another via email, skype, social media, texting, IMing, blogging, and twittering, one would suppose acknowledging gifts would be on the uptick. Oh, that is such a pipe dream.
I face to face give as well as send lots of gifts by mail. I buy gifts for five children. I send holiday cards, and I don't just mean Christmas cards. I send stuff by snail mail and electronically. I send postcards regularly to four children, so they can have the joy of 'getting mail'. I send family unsolicited gifts. I made and gave kimonos to nine women this past year during the wedding celebration.
I really spent lots of time and effort making the kimonos, so they weren't just a 'go to the store, survey the aisles and grab something' gift. I hate those kind anyway. Just as a personal survey, and knowing my feelings would be hurt if they weren't formally acknowledged, I LITERALLY said as the kimonos were opened: "I spent time, effort and love making these; I expect a thank you note. Can you believe that one person didn't bother? I could. I was pleased that eight of the nine 'got it'. The one who didn't? Well, let's just say my feelings about her have changed.
In my childhood household, it was not just encouraged, or suggested, it was demanded whenever I received a gift, a thank you note to the giver would follow within five days. Five days was my mother's arbitrary limit of how much time could pass before I (and by proxy, her) would lose face by not writing a thank you note. I was equally inflexible with Sarah. Children do not 'know' they should make a special effort to acknowledge gifts: It has to be taught. I can hear the eye rolling from the parental readers. "Don't you understand how difficult it is to work, manage a household, feed everybody, and get SOME sleep?" Yes. I do. I did it. I'm wondering what are your priorities since getting along with people has to be a number one social skill? Teaching manners should be on the short list of parenting.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Life is short, but there's always time enough for courtesy." Manners, of which acknowledging gifts is just one of a set, show respect both for yourself and for others. We are a social, herd animal. Using manners with one another is the way our herds function best. You never have to worry about 'political correctness' if you have a polished set of manners. Good manners allow you to make a great first impression in this age of 'networking'. They are social armor you wear into an unknown group of others.
I long ago decided to cut children some thank you note slack especially if their parents are ignorant or lazy. However, even I have a line in the sand: If you are a child to whom I give gifts, then you can expect me to suffer your poor manners until you are sixteen. Then, at 17, you get a 'second chance' to step up and make an acknowledgement. After that, there are no more gifts. I don't care who you are as my unmannered nephew discovered upon his high school graduation.
I think I'll continue to be an old fogey and completely out of touch in the 21st century with my unreasonable expectations on this issue. At some point, though, if you stop hearing from me, or receiving those notes or cards or gifts, you can bet that I finally got fed up with your lack of manners.
I face to face give as well as send lots of gifts by mail. I buy gifts for five children. I send holiday cards, and I don't just mean Christmas cards. I send stuff by snail mail and electronically. I send postcards regularly to four children, so they can have the joy of 'getting mail'. I send family unsolicited gifts. I made and gave kimonos to nine women this past year during the wedding celebration.
I really spent lots of time and effort making the kimonos, so they weren't just a 'go to the store, survey the aisles and grab something' gift. I hate those kind anyway. Just as a personal survey, and knowing my feelings would be hurt if they weren't formally acknowledged, I LITERALLY said as the kimonos were opened: "I spent time, effort and love making these; I expect a thank you note. Can you believe that one person didn't bother? I could. I was pleased that eight of the nine 'got it'. The one who didn't? Well, let's just say my feelings about her have changed.
In my childhood household, it was not just encouraged, or suggested, it was demanded whenever I received a gift, a thank you note to the giver would follow within five days. Five days was my mother's arbitrary limit of how much time could pass before I (and by proxy, her) would lose face by not writing a thank you note. I was equally inflexible with Sarah. Children do not 'know' they should make a special effort to acknowledge gifts: It has to be taught. I can hear the eye rolling from the parental readers. "Don't you understand how difficult it is to work, manage a household, feed everybody, and get SOME sleep?" Yes. I do. I did it. I'm wondering what are your priorities since getting along with people has to be a number one social skill? Teaching manners should be on the short list of parenting.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Life is short, but there's always time enough for courtesy." Manners, of which acknowledging gifts is just one of a set, show respect both for yourself and for others. We are a social, herd animal. Using manners with one another is the way our herds function best. You never have to worry about 'political correctness' if you have a polished set of manners. Good manners allow you to make a great first impression in this age of 'networking'. They are social armor you wear into an unknown group of others.
I long ago decided to cut children some thank you note slack especially if their parents are ignorant or lazy. However, even I have a line in the sand: If you are a child to whom I give gifts, then you can expect me to suffer your poor manners until you are sixteen. Then, at 17, you get a 'second chance' to step up and make an acknowledgement. After that, there are no more gifts. I don't care who you are as my unmannered nephew discovered upon his high school graduation.
I think I'll continue to be an old fogey and completely out of touch in the 21st century with my unreasonable expectations on this issue. At some point, though, if you stop hearing from me, or receiving those notes or cards or gifts, you can bet that I finally got fed up with your lack of manners.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Visiting the Smithsonian
We FINALLY got to spend our week at the Smithsonian. If you're planning your own visit, let me tell you the first week of November is an excellent time to choose. We were downright lonely in most museums. I think you would have to spend two solid weeks touring constantly to see almost everything of interest. Since this was not our first rodeo in Washington D.C., we knew how important it was to have a master plan. Just ask Sarah. We took her to D.C. when she was seven, and she remembers it as the worst vacation we ever took. I think her perception was somewhat colored because of an incident that took place during the vacation.
First, Sarah absolutely insisted on carrying a purse. This was her first actual purse, as well as her first time at keeping up with one. Her heartless mother spelled out in advance that if she insisted on carrying it, the purse was Sarah's responsibility and hers alone. I'm sure you can anticipate the ending of this tale: Yes, on the second day of the trip, she left her purse on the Metro. She was shocked, angry and heartbroken. Not only was her purse gone, but her 'trip souvenir money' stored in the purse had also vanished. Her unsympathetic parents did not replace the money. Paired with OUR poor sightseeing plan in which we wound up criss-crossing and back-tracking over the Mall, you can understand Sarah's attitude.
If you've never been to the National Mall, it's much bigger than what most people imagine. It's 1.2 miles between the steps of the United States Capitol and the Washington Monument. In between are SOME of the Smithsonian Museums - the most famous being the Natural History Museum and the Air and Space Museum. It doesn't take long to realize there's no way and no reason to drive a car to visit the Mall attractions. There's no parking. This area is not car friendly. Fortunately, the Washington "Metro" (subway system) is excellent and there are stations at both ends of the Mall. Another surprise is that almost every museum doesn't open until 10:00 am and closes promptly at 5:30 pm. They are open seven days a week.
Having said all that, Drake and I knew that if we were only going to spend five days, we would have to carefully pick what we were going to try and see and then lay it all out in a comprehensive plan to minimize time spent traveling from one place to the next. Does that mean a spreadsheet? You bet your booties it does. We immediately dropped the two 'kid' friendly museums - Natural History and the Mall Air and Space. We concentrated on art this time with two additions: The National Archives and the new Uder-Hazy Air & Space Museum addition out by the Dulles Airport.
Drake really wanted to see the 'documents'. I'm talking about the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. (FYI - The original Declaration of Independence is almost completely faded out, but the Constitution and Bill of Rights are still readable.) I saw all of them when I was 16, so I was more curious about the Public Vaults. This is a new attraction at the National Archives - well, new to us, anyway. The Archives hold not just the big three, but also other famous documents, recordings, census records, army records, and tons of other original source material of historical interest generated by the United States government. The Archives have opened their 'vaults' in a clever interactive exhibit divided into five sections based on the preamble of the Constitution. For instance, I saw the original Emancipation Proclamation. Also interesting were personal letters written to various presidents. The one that cracked both of us up: Teenage girls of an Elvis Fan Club wrote to Eisenhower telling him they 'would die' if Elvis was forced to get a GI haircut. Drake was fascinated by immigration forms of the famous - like Albert Einstein. There was so much, and it was so cleverly presented. I didn't know that the Archives are petitioned for help constantly - for instance in determining citizenship of someone who was brought to the United States as a child.
The Uder-Hazy was built as an addition to the original Air and Space Museum, and the new place holds the big stuff. The star of the collection is the newest biggie - the Discovery Space Shuttle. This is a slickly designed facility which is several airplane hangers connected together. You can just wander around and look, or you can go to an IMAX show, have lunch at the McDonald's, or buy rides in simulators and other high end tech toys. There's also a complete restoration area with a viewing overlook.
They have one entire hanger that's nothing except the space shuttle, space capsules, rockets and satellites. Some other highlights are the Enola Gay (plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima), a Concord, a 707 jetliner, a Pan American Clipper Flying Cloud (first transport airplane with a pressurized cabin), the only remaining WWI fighter airplane, and a Stealth Blackbird. All in all, there are more than 200 airplanes displayed both on the floor and hung from the ceiling. There are two stories of cat walks to give you a bird's eye view of the hanging aircraft as well as an overview of the floor. There are also nooks and crannies displaying peripheral flight stuff - like an Astronaut suit that's been on the moon, and still has moon dust all over it.
Since you can't tour the inside of these artifacts, there are computers scattered throughout the museum that lets you do a 360 VR inside a variety of aircraft as if you are sitting in the pilot's seat. I can't begin to tell you the difference between the cockpit of the Enola Gay and the Discovery Space Shuttle. All the more jaw dropping when you realize there's less than 50 years between the construction and flight of the two aircraft. Even more amazing: Wright brother first flight of about 15 feet in 1903. First Space Shuttle Launch was in 1981. There is only 78 years between the two events. I have two grandparents who were alive for both occurrences. If you're interested in the pix I took, there's a separate photo album that's only the planes.
And now for the art: We went to the National Gallery of Art, the Renwick Gallery, the Corcoran Gallery, the Hirshhorn, the Freer, the Sackler, the National Portrait Gallery, and the Smithsonian Museum of American Art. I've created a best pieces photo album for those of you who would like a greatest hits version of the trip. I've also included the big enchilada - a photo album of every picture I took while there. It's heavily weighted toward pieces of art. That album is best viewed in pieces since it's 901 pictures. By contrast - the plane pix album is 118 snaps, and the greatest hits photo album is 162.
Finally, we also went to the Smithsonian Museum of American History and the Smithsonian Castle. We saw iconic artifacts of American history and culture. My favorite in the American history museum were the First Lady gowns and china, but there was a bunch of other interesting 'stuff' mainly handled chronologically. The Castle wins the funniest exhibit - called Souvenirs. It's all about what we save to commemorate important events or people. Many artifacts are sent unsolicited with 'labels' directly from individuals to the Smithsonian. Someone sent a collection of hair of the Presidents. Really.
This was a great trip. My feet held out (barely), and we were smart to have a plan and limited what we tried to see. We bought a pocket book of maps we used constantly. The final tip is: Stay in an outlying area close to a Metro station and take the subway train in and out of town. You save gas, aggravation, stress, and money. For instance, we stayed in a highly rated chain motel with a hot breakfast five minutes from the Springfield/Franconia Metro Station for $100 a night. A seven day Metro pass is $57 per person for unlimited rides, and you can either take the free shuttle from the hotel or park your own car for $4.50 a day at the station.
Here are the photo albums. Pick your poison.
Greatest Hits: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5947444820285122945?sort=1&authkey=CP6oiI662tCA0gE
Airplanes: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5944385050606046193?sort=1&authkey=CPbRqeLtx9fFGg
Art & Architecture: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5947450770948723185?sort=1&authkey=CNH-movAl_C4pwE
First, Sarah absolutely insisted on carrying a purse. This was her first actual purse, as well as her first time at keeping up with one. Her heartless mother spelled out in advance that if she insisted on carrying it, the purse was Sarah's responsibility and hers alone. I'm sure you can anticipate the ending of this tale: Yes, on the second day of the trip, she left her purse on the Metro. She was shocked, angry and heartbroken. Not only was her purse gone, but her 'trip souvenir money' stored in the purse had also vanished. Her unsympathetic parents did not replace the money. Paired with OUR poor sightseeing plan in which we wound up criss-crossing and back-tracking over the Mall, you can understand Sarah's attitude.
If you've never been to the National Mall, it's much bigger than what most people imagine. It's 1.2 miles between the steps of the United States Capitol and the Washington Monument. In between are SOME of the Smithsonian Museums - the most famous being the Natural History Museum and the Air and Space Museum. It doesn't take long to realize there's no way and no reason to drive a car to visit the Mall attractions. There's no parking. This area is not car friendly. Fortunately, the Washington "Metro" (subway system) is excellent and there are stations at both ends of the Mall. Another surprise is that almost every museum doesn't open until 10:00 am and closes promptly at 5:30 pm. They are open seven days a week.
Having said all that, Drake and I knew that if we were only going to spend five days, we would have to carefully pick what we were going to try and see and then lay it all out in a comprehensive plan to minimize time spent traveling from one place to the next. Does that mean a spreadsheet? You bet your booties it does. We immediately dropped the two 'kid' friendly museums - Natural History and the Mall Air and Space. We concentrated on art this time with two additions: The National Archives and the new Uder-Hazy Air & Space Museum addition out by the Dulles Airport.
Drake really wanted to see the 'documents'. I'm talking about the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. (FYI - The original Declaration of Independence is almost completely faded out, but the Constitution and Bill of Rights are still readable.) I saw all of them when I was 16, so I was more curious about the Public Vaults. This is a new attraction at the National Archives - well, new to us, anyway. The Archives hold not just the big three, but also other famous documents, recordings, census records, army records, and tons of other original source material of historical interest generated by the United States government. The Archives have opened their 'vaults' in a clever interactive exhibit divided into five sections based on the preamble of the Constitution. For instance, I saw the original Emancipation Proclamation. Also interesting were personal letters written to various presidents. The one that cracked both of us up: Teenage girls of an Elvis Fan Club wrote to Eisenhower telling him they 'would die' if Elvis was forced to get a GI haircut. Drake was fascinated by immigration forms of the famous - like Albert Einstein. There was so much, and it was so cleverly presented. I didn't know that the Archives are petitioned for help constantly - for instance in determining citizenship of someone who was brought to the United States as a child.
The Uder-Hazy was built as an addition to the original Air and Space Museum, and the new place holds the big stuff. The star of the collection is the newest biggie - the Discovery Space Shuttle. This is a slickly designed facility which is several airplane hangers connected together. You can just wander around and look, or you can go to an IMAX show, have lunch at the McDonald's, or buy rides in simulators and other high end tech toys. There's also a complete restoration area with a viewing overlook.
They have one entire hanger that's nothing except the space shuttle, space capsules, rockets and satellites. Some other highlights are the Enola Gay (plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima), a Concord, a 707 jetliner, a Pan American Clipper Flying Cloud (first transport airplane with a pressurized cabin), the only remaining WWI fighter airplane, and a Stealth Blackbird. All in all, there are more than 200 airplanes displayed both on the floor and hung from the ceiling. There are two stories of cat walks to give you a bird's eye view of the hanging aircraft as well as an overview of the floor. There are also nooks and crannies displaying peripheral flight stuff - like an Astronaut suit that's been on the moon, and still has moon dust all over it.
Since you can't tour the inside of these artifacts, there are computers scattered throughout the museum that lets you do a 360 VR inside a variety of aircraft as if you are sitting in the pilot's seat. I can't begin to tell you the difference between the cockpit of the Enola Gay and the Discovery Space Shuttle. All the more jaw dropping when you realize there's less than 50 years between the construction and flight of the two aircraft. Even more amazing: Wright brother first flight of about 15 feet in 1903. First Space Shuttle Launch was in 1981. There is only 78 years between the two events. I have two grandparents who were alive for both occurrences. If you're interested in the pix I took, there's a separate photo album that's only the planes.
And now for the art: We went to the National Gallery of Art, the Renwick Gallery, the Corcoran Gallery, the Hirshhorn, the Freer, the Sackler, the National Portrait Gallery, and the Smithsonian Museum of American Art. I've created a best pieces photo album for those of you who would like a greatest hits version of the trip. I've also included the big enchilada - a photo album of every picture I took while there. It's heavily weighted toward pieces of art. That album is best viewed in pieces since it's 901 pictures. By contrast - the plane pix album is 118 snaps, and the greatest hits photo album is 162.
Finally, we also went to the Smithsonian Museum of American History and the Smithsonian Castle. We saw iconic artifacts of American history and culture. My favorite in the American history museum were the First Lady gowns and china, but there was a bunch of other interesting 'stuff' mainly handled chronologically. The Castle wins the funniest exhibit - called Souvenirs. It's all about what we save to commemorate important events or people. Many artifacts are sent unsolicited with 'labels' directly from individuals to the Smithsonian. Someone sent a collection of hair of the Presidents. Really.
This was a great trip. My feet held out (barely), and we were smart to have a plan and limited what we tried to see. We bought a pocket book of maps we used constantly. The final tip is: Stay in an outlying area close to a Metro station and take the subway train in and out of town. You save gas, aggravation, stress, and money. For instance, we stayed in a highly rated chain motel with a hot breakfast five minutes from the Springfield/Franconia Metro Station for $100 a night. A seven day Metro pass is $57 per person for unlimited rides, and you can either take the free shuttle from the hotel or park your own car for $4.50 a day at the station.
Here are the photo albums. Pick your poison.
Greatest Hits: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5947444820285122945?sort=1&authkey=CP6oiI662tCA0gE
Airplanes: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5944385050606046193?sort=1&authkey=CPbRqeLtx9fFGg
Art & Architecture: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5947450770948723185?sort=1&authkey=CNH-movAl_C4pwE
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Thrilled
I'm always amazed when I encounter the attitude of "Nothing I do really makes a difference". I think each time you express that attitude by not voting, by not volunteering, or by not caring, you sell yourself and everyone around you short. I know it is easier not to care, and certainly less frustrating. And, of course, no one likes to be reminded that apathy and indifference are not just unattractive qualities, but actually unChristian, and I suspect unJewish and unIslamic too.
As you should all know by now, I support teacher friends who post projects on Donor's Choose. Our last project to try and get funded was for Shannon Sansom, an elementary school librarian in a central Texas rural district. She posted a project to buy library books with which to challenge her children to read more. We managed to help her raise $1018.00. That's a lot for a project, and we were all thrilled when her project funded. Many of my friends and readers helped her.
Shannon sent this today to all her donors:
If you were one of the people who accepted the challenge to 'make a difference', then just look at those faces. If you were one of the people who 'passed', then look at the faces.
There will be another project. Be someone who thinks their actions make a difference. I know mine do; proof is in the picture.
As you should all know by now, I support teacher friends who post projects on Donor's Choose. Our last project to try and get funded was for Shannon Sansom, an elementary school librarian in a central Texas rural district. She posted a project to buy library books with which to challenge her children to read more. We managed to help her raise $1018.00. That's a lot for a project, and we were all thrilled when her project funded. Many of my friends and readers helped her.
Shannon sent this today to all her donors:
"Thank you so much for the donation of fiction books for our library.
The books are processed, on the "New Book" shelf, and are already in
demand by our readers! We are a charter school, and the library budget
would not allow for us to have these great new books if it weren't for
donors like you. Our "Reading Bingo" program is underway, with nearly
half of the student population signed up with the goal of reading 100
books by the end of the school year. To date, nearly 30 students have
gone to the second level, and 4 have reached the third level! They are
excited and proud when they turn in their Reading Bingo cards and
receive the next level card. Nothing can get a child more excited about
reading than to provide them with new books on topics they enjoy. And
of course, nothing helps a student's reading skills more than reading!
Pleasure reading will help boost students reading skills in every aspect
of their learning. Thank you again for providing my students with such
great books.
With gratitude, Mrs. Sansom"
She also posted some pictures - this one was my favorite
 |
If you were one of the people who accepted the challenge to 'make a difference', then just look at those faces. If you were one of the people who 'passed', then look at the faces.
There will be another project. Be someone who thinks their actions make a difference. I know mine do; proof is in the picture.
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