WolfWeave

We recently flew to London for a week-long vacation in celebration of my husband’s 60th birthday weekend (during which our sons were supposed to be joining us). However, because of the eruption of Iceland’s E-15 volcano and the resulting drift of its ash cloud over the UK and most of Europe, the boys’ flights were cancelled, so they never made it in; and our flight out was cancelled, so that we were stranded in London for 4 extra days. We missed having them with us but thoroughly enjoyed our extended visit! Below is a revised version of my travel diary, which I originally posted to Facebook.

We arrived in London on Wed., 4/14; I was quite jet lagged, having slept only about 2 hours on the plane, despite my best intentions of sleeping through most of the distance. There was a driver from The Athenaeum waiting for us at Heathrow (one of our special perks)—an awfully nice sight after a long trip. Unfortunately, we arrived early and our apartment wasn’t ready so we waited quite a while in the Garden Room until they at least had a guest room cleaned that we could temporarily use to rest and clean up in until we felt like going out exploring. While we were out, they would move our luggage to our apartment once it was ready. We started out exploring Mayfair near the hotel & went to the inimitable Fortnum & Mason store, purchasing a few snacks in the food shop. We ate a quick lunch at Napket, a carry-out/eat-in fast food restaurant chain with upscale salads and sandwiches. Then we took a taxi to Notting Hill and walked up Portobello Rd. in search of the scene behind its interesting Saturday market, but most stores were either closed on Wednesday or were just touristy junk shops instead of the interesting antique stores that were reputed to be located there.

When we hit a block with an American Apparel store and another well-known chain, we knew there was no point in going any farther, so we took a taxi over to Upper Street in Islington where I wanted to visit Loop, the yarn store. It is such a tiny shop which you would never guess from its website, but the owners (originally from the USA and Canada) were two of the nicest and most accommodating yarn store owners I have ever run across! I had brought with me to London my knitting supplies and the Hiya-Hiya bamboo interchangeable needle kit, as well as several shawl patterns, but I had never had time to pick yarn from my stash and wind it into balls before the airport taxi arrived. Somehow my last-minute packing took too long! So, at Loop, I bought a skein of Handmaiden Lace Silk (which had about the same yardage per 50 grams as the Malabrigo Lace Baby Merino that the pattern calls for) in the color “Stardust” (which must be an older color, as it isn’t shown on their website any longer) to knit the Citron shawl. I wanted to knit in silk for a summer shawl but then had my worries about the silk holding the ruching and ruffles in this particular pattern. This turned out to be a moot point however, as I was so tired each day from all the walking and exploring that I never did get around to knitting while on vacation! The color is scrumptious and the feel of the yarn so elegant; it was irresistible. The owners even wound it into a ball for me, which took quite a while, as it is hard to wind silk (especially fine silk) without it falling out of the ball. I’m sure I will find a suitable pattern for it…and a suitable yarn for Citron out of my stash when I get home! (note 4/28: I just read on Loop’s Facebook page that they are to be moving soon to a larger store—a whole building—on Camden Passage in Islington.)

We then walked a few blocks over to a wonderful gastropub called The Barnsbury Freehouse and Dining Room on Liverpool Road for dinner. I had a glass of wine and Bob a local ale while we waited for the kitchen to open for dinner. Dinner was excellent (a combination of French bistro and British pub food); there were numerous beers, ales and ciders on tap, as well as a good selection of wine; and it was fun watching the other people and feeling part of the “local” crowd at a neighborhood pub.

Thursday, 4/15 We toured the design studios at the OXO tower wharf on London’s south bank and then had lunch at the Harvey Nichols top floor Brasserie with its great view of the city. The food was very eclectic and inventive. We shared a cone of smoked paprika-spiced french fries with smoked chili/lime aioli; I had a cheese plate and some charcoal-grilled flatbread. Bob had an entrée of crispy sage-fried pumpkin gnocchi with pumpkin cream, rocket pesto, olives and parmesan. After, we walked over to the Borough Market (which had been recommended by my friend Jenny) and and had a great time sampling the wares at this fresh farmers’ market. We bought some cheese, nuts and pastries for our apartment and some Burnt Sugar fudge to bring home for gifts. Finally, we walked farther down the bank, past the Globe Theater and Southwark Cathedral, the oldest cathedral church building in London, to visit the very modern Design Museum with its 2010 Brit Insurance Designs of the Year award winners. The exhibit on sustainable ideas for the future was thought-provoking, as was the photographic journey through urban Africa. The museum had a delightful gift shop with lots of interesting design books and creative gifts; we found some presents there. That night we didn’t feel like eating out (our apt. has a tiny kitchenette) so I ran to the food hall at Harrods to buy items we could heat up for dinner. I decided to walk back but got lost around Hyde Park Corner and took a wrong turn. I ended up at Marble Arch somehow, turned around again, and kept wandering. I could not find my way and finally gave up after more than an hour and hailed a taxi! I had a map (but Bob had my cell phone after his had run out of battery) but just couldn’t figure out where I was or how to get back to the hotel. I picked up a lovely Salmon Wellington and some vegetables for Bob’s dinner and some sliced turkey and rolls which I had along with the cheese from the market and some almonds we had brought from home.

Due to Iceland’s volcano spewing its plume of ash, airports all over Northern Europe closed and the boys were unable to make it in to join us this weekend for Bob’s big birthday. It was disappointing but if they had flown in, they most likely would have been unable to fly out again on Sunday in time to return to school! We began to wonder if our flight would get out on Wednesday. Bob was on the phone with one or the other of the boys most of the day until his phone ran out of battery and he had to use mine. I wonder how outrageous that cell phone bill will be!

Friday, 4/16 We went to the Victoria & Albert Museum (V&A) where there is the most amazing Dale Chihuly sculpture hanging above the ticket booths in the entrance atrium:

I was able to see the special exhibit: Quilts 1700-2010. It was quite interesting, mixing traditional quilts from the 1700′s with all sorts of quilts through the centuries along with very avant garde quilts from the present.

We also toured my favorites: fashion, jewelry and glass.

Axel Russmeyer (German, beaded ball necklaces) has a necklace in the permanent jewelry collection at the V&A! My friend Michelle and I met him some 15 years ago in DC when he first brought his work to the US. The fashion exhibit was lovely but I unfortunately couldn’t see the special exhibit of Grace Kelly clothing—”Grace Kelly, Style Icon,” as it didn’t open to the public until the next day. The gift shop at the V&A was a wealth of jewelry and accessories however!

Afterwards, we spent time at the Science Museum where Bob wanted to see the exhibits on math, computing, clocks, and astronomy. There were some great gadgets there! Remember the plastic Kenner Spirograph you had as a kid? At The Science Museum, they had the original invention–about 2 ft. high with stacks of heavy brass gears—brass wheels and all the different disks connected to a stylus on a platform where the small square of drawing paper was laid out.

We also saw an amazing collection of glass Klein bottles:

all sorts of interesting polyhedron shapes:

and a Pegasus Computer—the last surviving vacuum tube computer in working order:

as well as an original Babbage Analytical Engine computing machine from 1834:

We had planned a dinner at an Indian restaurant with the boys but decided to cancel it, as we weren’t in the mood for Indian and just ate at a little Italian restaurant up the street from the hotel.

Saturday, 4/17 was Bob’s birthday and his special day to do as he wanted. We walked up Piccadilly and Charing Cross to The British Museum, which was a delight, as always. We had lunch in the beautifully relaxing 3rd floor restaurant in the atrium there.

Bob tried a special spicy African stew (a special because of their special exhibit on Africa: Kingdom of Ife, Sculptures from West Africa):

while I stuck with a chicken Caesar salad, which came in a deconstructed style:

I decided on a glass of wine as well as one of Diet Coke! We people watched and relaxed, then wandered around the museum, lingering over Mesopotamia (deciding the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago has a better collection) and and pre-Roman Britain, which proved to be fascinating because of the quality of the craftsmanship of the early Celts.

Forged armbands, Middle Bronze Age, 1400-1250 B.C., Sussex:

The Battersea Shield, one of the finest examples of Celtic Art in Britain, 350-50 B.C., River Thames:

Gold alloy torc (neck-ring), 75 B. C., Staffordshire:

Irish silver brooches with bosses, 9thC A.D., Ireland:

Penrith Brooch, Irish-Viking type, 10thC A.D., Cumbria:

Of course, we spent a long time examining the clock exhibits, but were somewhat disappointed at the lack of orreries. After the museum, we walked through Bloomsbury to Gordon Square, where [Virginia Woolf and her sister Vanessa once lived, then to the new building housing the British Library. It is a stunning building and has such treasures on display!—the Magna Carta, the Gutenberg Bible, the earliest surviving manuscript (handwritten, of course) of Beowulf; original manuscripts by Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Wordsworth, Lewis Carroll, Thomas Hardy, Harold Pinter, Sylvia Plath, and others; the original handwritten score by Handel of The Messiah, as well as other original sheet music folios; letters by Charles Darwin (“I know you disagree but I really do believe in my idea”), and Ada Lovelace (with the first idea for a computer programming machine), and notes about dreams penned by Sigmund Freud. It was fascinating to see them all.

That night we went for Bob’s birthday dinner to Scott’s, a seafood restaurant. Bob had a red leaf & beetroot salad with goat cheese while I tried the recommended soup—nettle & herb with goat cheese dumplings. My soup was awful, like some healthy concoction you’d get from a Vitamixer! They took it off the bill. Then Bob had grilled Dover sole with baby veggies while I had a grilled ribeye; both were excellent. Dessert was great too: apple pie/vanilla ice cream and Bakewell tart/almond ice cream. We had a lovely chat with the couple on one side of us, mostly about the volcano. After they left, we struck up a conversation with the couple on the other side: they were celebrating their anniversary; she was a couples therapist and he turned out to be a well-known British novelist, Howard Jacobson, who has been called “the Philip Roth of Britain.”

Because of the volcano ash cloud and all flights in and out of Heathrow being cancelled, people were scrambling for any and all alternative ways to get off the island. In cases it was necessary, we reserved Eurostar train tickets to Paris for Wednesday morning, then a Hertz rental car for the 9-hour drive to Madrid to catch an 11 am flight home on Thursday. I was fervently hoping that we didn’t need to do that!

Sunday, 4/18 We cruised on a Thames River Services boat (with a fantastic tour guide who pointed out every sight on our way and kept up a lively and hilarious narration) up the Thames to Greenwich, where we disembarked from the boat. We walked through the center of charming town, past a food market/street fair and then into the park, immediately following uphill on the 155 foot path straight to the Royal Observatory, designed and built in 1761 by Christopher Wren, the Royal Astronomer continually harassed by Sir Isaac Newton who wanted his measurements of the sun, moon & planets for his own calculations.

There we toured the museums and planetarium, saw the red ball on the rooftop weather vane

drop at exactly 1 pm (originally initiated to let the sailors at sea keep track of the correct time once each day), and straddled the Greenwich mean time line with a foot in each hemisphere:

We also saw the original Harrison clocks that were built in an attempt to keep correct time aboard ship according to latitude. Tacked on one wall running around the Observatory was a 24-hour clock keeping the correct time, as well as accurate rule measurements:

We left the Maritime and Fan Museums for another time. The park below

was filled with people enjoying the first real warm day of spring: playing soccer, lying on blankets in the sun, picnicking. We ate lunch outside at a tavern on the Thames, as it was so sunny and warm. We then walked through the old dockworkers’ tunnel running under the Thames River to get back to the other side and then took a bus to Canary Wharf where we grabbed a taxi back to our hotel.

Sunday night we wandered Shepherd’s Market behind our hotel—a warren of little streets full of restaurants. We passed up the Polish-Mexican Bistro,

a tiny French bistro, sushi, pizza, two British pubs, and more, finally settling on the one restaurant that seemed the busiest, a Lebanese restaurant. Bob made a wise choice from the extensive menu, picking an assortment plate of Middle Eastern dishes which turned out to be excellent. I, however, was not in the mood for Middle Eastern food and made an unwise decision to order turkey and stuffing which sounded delicious on the menu, but tasted straight from a high school cafeteria, canned gravy and all!

That night it looked like they were starting to open up the airspace plus the wind direction was changing, so it seemed as if we might be able to leave London on our new reservation—a flight the following Sunday. We love London but did need to get home eventually!

Monday, 4/19 We walked up Piccadilly to Regent Street and then up near Hamleys toy shop, we went into a little courtyard where I found the darling miniscule stitchery and yarn shop, All the Fun of the Fair, which had been recommended by an online friend who worked their part-time. The owner was very nice to chat with, despite her having to deal with her two school-age children who were also ensconced behind the counter, since school had been canceld because most of the teachers had been caught out of Britain on spring break by the ash cloud.

I restrained myself to buying a few skeins of local yarns from Sussex and the Harris Isles. We then walked up Carnaby Street (now quite commercialized), stopping in Muji, the great Japanese store, which sells some of its goods at MOMA in New York. I bought a short-sleeve version of my great striped tee Bob bought me at MOMA years ago, as well as a very thin linen knit cardigan with elbow-length sleeves in mulberry. We broke for lunch at Leon, a fast, fresh, partially-veggie carry-out with seating in the back, recommended by our son who has their cookbook. After lunch, we visited Liberty, the charming 1900-era department store. I was disappointed. While the lovely old woodwork and all is still in place, the store has been updated and modernized with all little designer boutiques—just like Bloomingdale’s or Neiman Marcus. However, it does have a large Rowan yarn section and it was nice seeing all their yarns and colors stacked up in one place. I would love to have bought a piece of fabric or an article of clothing with some of the Liberty of London designs but the prices were just outrageous.

After Liberty, we walked up Marylebone Lane to Marylebone High Street. I found The Button Queen store, despite the fact that its building had been torn down, forcing it to move several blocks farther on (and bought a few odd buttons from the 1940′s), but never did find the ribbon store that was supposed to be along the street. We went in The Conran Shop and lots of darling little stores along the way. There were some luscious pastry shops & a great organic grocery with take-out meals. We ended up choosing to dine at Giraffe, one of our old favorite healthy restaurants. I was in the mood for Mexican and had some great wholemeal chips with 2 salsas and a turkey, corn, bean & cheese enchilada with guacamole. We decided that Marylebone was a much quieter, less touristy, more interesting area than where we are in Mayfair and that we wouldn’t mind living around there.

Tuesday, 4/20, we learned for sure that our Wed. flight was cancelled and finally gave up the idea of the train to Paris and 9-hour drive to Madrid. We were re-booked on our flight for Sunday. This turned out to be the right move, after later reading all the horror stories in the papers about people driving all over the continent in search of a flight; this way we also had more time to enjoy London. However, I spent most of the day trying to get prescription refills to last through Sunday. The hotel arranged for a doctor to come to our apartment to go through my prescriptions with me; it took a long time to search his books for the British equivalents for my meds and dosages. Then I walked up to Boots pharmacy to have them filled and try to find comparables for all my pills that were over the counter. This was even more difficult! I needed to return the next day to pick up the prescriptions (and you don’t want to know how much a week’s worth of medicine cost!). I consoled myself for a wasted day by walking up to Hatchards bookstore and finding the previous 2 novels in the Maisie Dobbs mysteries by Jacqueline Winspear—I’d just finished the newest one, obtained thru the Amazon Vine program. I also stopped at Fortnum & Mason for a few dessert treats and a little chocolate to perk me up! Bob managed to have a special day though—he had a wonderful meeting with the assistant horological curator at the British Museum who took him behind the scenes to the workrooms and even took a 16thC clock out of its case to show him how the gears worked. Next he spent several hours at the headquarters of Pugwash UK (his father had been an essential early supporter of Pugwash), meeting everyone and supplying their historian with his memories of the early years when nuclear disarmament was crucial and Pugwash was often an important force behind the scenes to accomplish détente. I met them all at a lovely Italian restaurant where they kindly took us to dinner. The older man sitting next to Bob at dinner, Sir Hugh Beach, turned out to be mentioned in a front-page story on the Trident nuclear submarines in The London Times the next morning! A General and former Master-General of the Ordnance, Sir Hugh and 3 other former military commanders had authored an opinion on the editorial page about whether continuing with the Trident missile program is really the best course for Britain. We were in quite heady company; Pugwash won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1995, an event in Oslo to which Bob and his family were invited.

Wed., 4/21, we walked around the city proper—we passed through the banking & financial areas and went by the Inns of Court where the justices are. We toured the oldest synagogue in the city, the Bevis Marks, from 1700 just after the Jews were allowed to return to England after having been banished by Oliver Cromwell. The synagogue is still in regular use and mainly lit by huge brass chandeliers with candles! Next we went to the old Spitalfields Market, which this week had a fair with booths set up by students and ex-students from the various design schools selling clothing, jewelry, purses, accessories, etc. There was a fashion show (a professional one) going on, showcasing the creative student fashions,

so we settled ourselves at an outdoor table at Canteen, a typical modern British restaurant, to watch while we ate. I had a superb chicken, walnut and tarragon salad:

Bob had a jerusalem artichoke pie with mashed potatoes and gravy:

I saw some t-shirts I liked and had a nice chat with the artist, but they were just simply silk-screened in black and the fellow wanted £35 for them–so I didn’t buy. Then we walked down to the Whitechapel Gallery which shows conceptual modern art. Most of the exhibit rooms were closed, preparing for shows about to open, but we saw enough as it was! In my opinion, a little conceptual art goes a long way. Then we walked way too far trying to find the London Guildhall, a rare example of medieval civic architecture, which contains an art museum and the Clockmakers Museum. The Clockmakers Museum was very interesting with some stunning old clocks and watches and a history of clock making in London. Unfortunately, we were late and just missed the last entrance for the art gallery—next time (it has some pre-Raphaelites and the only excavated Roman amphitheatre in the city). I love touring London because you always turn a corner and come upon some incongruity, like this photo of an old building with the ultra-modern “Gherkin”, the new Sir Norman Foster-designed office building lurking just behind:

You also see all sorts of unusual signage:

As we continued to walk, we passed a different-sounding restaurant but decided not to eat there:

We ate dinner instead back in Mayfair at the Cookbook Cafe in the Intercontinental on Park Lane. It was a charming restaurant, especially for a hotel, quirkily decorated with cookbooks, antiques and cooking stations, and with an eclectic menu. Bob had fish and chips and I had the ubiquitous caesar salad with grilled chicken breast.

Thursday, 4/22 We toured Kensington and Chelsea. We walked over there, did a quick tour of Harvey Nichols (what’s the attraction?) and I revisited the V&A, while Bob went back to the Science Museum. Unfortunately, the Grace Kelly exhibit was sold out for the day (I never did get to see it) so I wandered through a few galleries and then went shopping in the gift shop for presents to bring home. We continued our walk up Brompton to where it meets Fulham Road and Sloane Avenue and there was the amazing Michelin Tyre Store, refurbished by Terence Conran for his restaurant, Bibendum. We looked in all the fancy shops along the way and in Conrans, then ate lunch at a little French place called Tartine, which turned out to be an open-faced sandwich on Pôilane bread: I had rare roast beef with horseradish cream; Bob had salmon with lemon dill cream. Yummy. We continued up Fulham, turning on Sydney Street to King’s Road. Kensington is a lovely neighborhood but I’m sure much pricier than Marylebone. We stopped in Habitat, the precursor to Conran, and some other little stores on the walk down towards Sloane Sq. At Duke of York Square, we went into the Saatchi Gallery, which was preparing for a big auction of artwork from Brazil, Russia, India and China (BRIC). We were frankly underwhelmed by the art, which was estimated to sell from $5,000 to $200,000 at auction. We wondered who buys this stuff. About the only piece I found attractive (and that’s relative) was a red lacquered fiberglass roly-poly Chairman Mao doll (2-3 feet high) titled “Mao Never Down.” It was all strange, too strange. The Saatchi is a beautiful gallery though. We kept walking until we found Artisan du Chocolat, a phenomenal chocolate store, where I just had to buy a few pieces. Back at the hotel, I fell asleep. That night we had dinner at The Only Running Footman gastropub restaurant, within walking distance of our hotel, where I had fantastic lamb chops and Bob had John Dory. Tomorrow…What’s left?

Friday, 4/23, we again headed off down Shaftesbury from Piccadilly Circle to walk to Charing Cross Road, stopping on the way at Maison Bertaux for “the lightest croissants in London” (they were really good); then we found 2 fabulous bookstores: Foyles and Blackwell, practically across the street from each other at 100 Charing Cross Road. We detoured to Neal’s Yard Dairy to admire all the cheeses and looked at the shops in the tranquil courtyard of Neal’s Yard near Covent Garden. We found our way over to Food for Thought, a vegetarian restaurant where we had a filling lunch. There were a lot of little shops to look at in the area, but 2 especially great ones were Magma—one branch with design books, the other with design and Japanese gifts; it displayed a great many creative things to look at and buy. At Oxford St., Charing Cross turns into Tottenham Ct. Road but we went left to Rathbone and then up to Percy Street to CAA (Contemporary Applied Art)(http://www.caa.org.uk/)—effectively the British Craft Gallery. There was an interesting exhibit upstairs, “The Honeybee and The Hive,” curated by Wendy Ramshaw. Einstein once predicted that, “If the bee disappears from the surface of the earth, man would have no more than four years to live.” Each of the pieces in the show addressed this subject. I particularly admired the woven, pleated neckpieces of Ann Richards but they had all sold and only photos of the work remained. However, in the regular downstairs gallery, they carried other necklaces & bracelets by her. I ended up buying a bracelet ruff, woven of metal & high-twist silk thread, which forms natural pleats off the loom. The pleats are set with wet finishing, causing the bracelet to hold its shape like a Fortuny gown. I asked if they had any pieces by Nora Fok but they didn’t even though she was a member. However, the nice woman helping me called over to another gallery, Electrum on South Moulton Street to see if they did. It turned out that they were having a show opening next week including Nora Fok and had some new pieces put away for the show but would be happy to show them to me if I stopped by. It was convenient, as we were heading to Selfridge’s to see if we could find food for dinner in their food hall. Electrum turned out to be a wonderful upper-level fine craft jewelry store with loads of amazing pieces. The pieces by Nora Fok were just amazingly creative (to say nothing of such incredibly time-consuming work). I wanted to buy something but the least expensive item was a pair of earrings for £195. I couldn’t, especially as Bob hadn’t found his birthday present yet. We went over to the basement food court at Selfridge’s and loaded up there with some whole grain bread, chicken, fish, and all sorts of vegetables and salads. Of course, we also found a wealth of cookies and tarts for dessert. There is a huge candy department, as the British love their sugar:

With enough food for dinner, we headed back to the hotel. Everywhere we went today, we saw crowds of people drinking and dressed or decorated in red and white. It turned out to be St. George’s Day, the patron saint of England and Wales. Apparently, there is a political movement afoot to have this declared a national holiday.

Saturday, 4/24, our last full day, we took advantage of the gorgeous day and warm weather to go walking in Hyde Park. First we tried to visit the Royal Institution up on Albemarle St. to see its Faraday rooms but it was closed. So we reversed direction & walked down to Marble Arch, entering Hyde Park through the beautiful Queen Elizabeth gates.

We walked all the way to the bridge crossing the Serpentine and back. The lawns were full of people; the water full of paddle boats & rowboats; the paths awash with cyclists and rollerbladers. People sat in lawn chairs, picnicked on blankets, chased after children, walked their dogs. We saw the Diana Memorial Fountain, filled with young kids wading on this hot day. The lines for ice cream were long. It was so much fun. The Serpentine was full of water fowl; we saw ducks:

and swans:

as well as cormorants and all sorts of other river fowl that was only identifiable because of a chart by the riverside. The park was full of flowers, a rose garden (though the roses were not yet blooming, and all sorts of beautifully blooming trees and bushes.

We left the park by a different gate:

and went back to the hotel for a rest after our hike. Later that evening, we walked along Jermyn Street, looking into shop windows—there was a separate shop for walking sticks, many with interesting carved animal heads, and this window display in a cigar shop:

Once again, the British don’t mince words. We also passed Paxton & Whitfield, another famous cheese shop, which was regrettably closed.

We had our final dinner at a typical British establishment, Rowley’s on Jermyn Street, known for its white linen tablecloths, entrecôte steak, and unlimited chips. Bob had salmon niçoise and we shared the quintessential sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Ahh, London, we are going to miss you!

We spent 6 days in Rome just before Christmas—sort of a whirlwind tour, a little of everything to give our sons an exposure to Rome’s ancient culture and history, as well as to its modern food, language and culture. Eternal as Rome is, so little had really changed since I was last there 35 years ago and, yet, so much had changed: I found Rome to be (as all cities are now) so much more globalized, touristy, overwhelming; it was so less uncommon, less Italian, less intriguingly foreign than it had been in 1975.

Although weather forecasts had predicted sunny days and temps in the 50′s, only our first day there was truly sunny and in the 40′s. The rest of the week it rained more or less constantly and the temps dropped into the 30′s. Rome is damp and chilly to begin with; everyone wears stylish scarves all the time. One day I wore 3 sweaters under my fall jacket and was very glad I’d brought a hat, scarf and gloves along.

The first night we arrived at our hotel, The Rose Garden Palace, off the via Veneto near the Borghese Park, and it was quite late by the time we were settled into our stylish and comfortable rooms. On the advice of our extremely helpful front desk staff person/concierge Barbara, we walked a few blocks north to a lively pizzeria with housemade pasta for a wonderful dinner: il pomodorino turned out to be a neighborhood gem.

Luckily, that first sunny day was our walking overview of the city. We had a fantastic guide: Ron Phillips who introduced us to the bus system but basically walked us all around the city at a brisk pace, stopping at most of the famous sites—including the Piazza del Campidoglio, designed by Michelangelo,

the Pantheon with its incredible mathematical dome and containing

the haunting tomb of Raphael, 2 mourning doves embracing above it,

and the Fontana di Trevi, into which we all threw our coins, insuring our eventual return to Rome,

—all the while traversing through the different neighborhoods of Rome, pointing out special shopping areas like markets and streets of antique stores, and generally gave us an overall acquaintance with the city in just one day. We immediately felt less like tourists and more like natives after spending the day with Ron. Plus, as an added bonus, we had lunch with him at Maccheroni, a fantastic pasta restaurant near Parliament (where Michelle Obama and the other wives had lunched during the G8 summit). I kept to my diet with a mixed green salad and grilled chicken breast with balsamic vinegar but everyone else sampled the pasta. I think Ron might have won with the house specialty of fresh fettucine (?) with parmesan cream and pepper, though everyone’s dish was different and delicious. Afterwards, Ron treated us to triple gelatos at one of the best gelaterias— Gelateria Della Palma (Via della Maddalena, 20/23), which had over 100 flavors! While the boys mostly stuck with variations of chocolate, Bob tried fruit flavors and I had tiramisu, zabaglione, and crème caramel. Luckily we did a lot of walking that day. Ron has a list of gelateria on his site and, if you want to survive them all, you’d better order a “picolo coppa” at each place!

The next day, we walked through the Borghese park in the drizzle to tour the lovely Borghese Gallery with its incredible artwork and marble and bronze statues. Especially notable were the reclining marble figure of Pauline Bonaparte by Antonio Canova, in which the carved wrinkles in the pillows and cushion on which she lies seem so incredibly realistic; and my favorite: Bernini’s amazing marble sculpture of Apollo and Daphne, with Daphne turning into a tree, leaves emerging from her fingertips, bark grasping up her legs, etc. These sculptures were exactly as I remembered, although apparently the galleries themselves have been renovated in the intervening time. That night we had dinner at a typical Italian grill restaurant, Girarrosto Toscano, which was oddly formal and old-fashioned and reminded us of eating at the old Berghoff Restaurant in Chicago.

On Sunday, the boys walked up the Via Veneto to visit the Capuchin Monastery Crypt at the Church of the Immaculate, via V. Veneto 27 (which I had seen before)—6 vaulted crypt rooms completely decorated with the bones and skulls of deceased friars. Yes, it is ghoulish but it is also a work of art. The message of the crypt is clear: Death closes the gates of time, and opens those of eternity. So many things in Rome are traditionally closed on Sunday, but that afternoon, as we wandered up and down the shopping streets near the Spanish Steps, we found all the stores open and the streets packed with strolling tourists and Romans—apparently THE thing to do on a Sunday afternoon the week before Christmas. Sunday night we had dinner at a fabulous and inviting continental restaurant near the Spanish Steps, Babette, which I cannot praise highly enough. Every aspect of my dinner was spectacular in this warm, intimate restaurant and the special Babette’s Cake was to die for!

Monday we took a 5-hour walking tour of the ancient Roman Forum,

and we even saw the spot where Julius Caesar is supposedly still buried—people still leave flowers on his grave:

We walked all through the Forum, out through the Arch of Titus

and over to the Colosseum, and the Palatine Hill with a guide from Through Eternity. It proved to be fascinating. The guide we had, Thomas Robinson, is a social historian and he was more knowledgeable than we could have imagined; it was so interesting to hear not just his facts about the people and places, but his theories and opinions about what happened in ancient times. We lunched at a small traditional trattoria. At the end of our tour, not yet tired of walking (!), we went in search of Il Gelato di San Crispino (Via Della Panetteria, 42), one of the most famous gelaterias, and then found our way to Il Fornaio (via dei Baullari 5/7), a fantastic bakery we had passed with Ron, where I wanted to buy some homemade amaretti—they were worth the search! That night we returned to the Spanish Steps to have dinner at a trendy vegetarian restaurant (and art gallery) with very unusual dishes: Il Margutta RistorArte.

Tuesday morning, the boys decided to continue their ghoulish tour and took a taxi out to the Catacombs of Priscilla, which is north of the city and has marvellous painted frescoes. They returned in time for us to grab a quick lunch and pick up our tickets for a tour of The Vatican Museums, the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter’s. The Vatican owns more art than any museum (although I remember seeing more of it 30 years ago) and we walked up and down corridors and stairways on our way to the Sistine Chapel. Unfortunately, many of the rooms were dark and hard to see and the Sistine Chapel ceiling (Michelangelo), when we finally got there, is lit only by a few windows. It was dark and rainy outside, so that, even without the crowds of people, it was hard to see any of the detail on the ceiling. I remember seeing it on a sunny day and being much more impressed than the boys were, which was disappointing. We took the tour group shortcut through to St. Peter’s, stared at Michelangelo’s La Pietà, and then walked around St. Peter’s, marvelling and aghast at all the overwrought baroque decoration everywhere. Absolutely nothing is left undecorated; even the decorations have decorations! The Roman Catholic Church certainly knows how to make a statement!

Late that afternoon, we wandered the streets across the river in search of an artesanal gelateria hidden in an alleyway off a pedestrian pathway: Gelateria Del Teatro (Via di San Simone, 70 Del Teatro); their gelato is made in the Sicilian style and they had an incredible dark chocolate/orange gelato, as well as a great almond (wish I’d tried the amaretto flavor). Then, switching gears, we headed to the Jewish Ghetto for a typical Roman Jewish meat dinner, fried artichokes and all, at La Taverna del Ghetto.

Our final day in Rome, the sun did come out sporadically, and we headed to the Jewish Ghetto for lunch at Nonna Betta, a wonderful kosher dairy restaurant with an amazing menu full of pizza, pasta, egg and other vegetable and dairy dishes. On the way there we had stopped first thing in the morning for one last gelato, at Giolitti (Via Uffici dei Vicario, 40), the 100-year-old gelateria that specializes in fresh fruit flavors. After lunch, we had a tour of the Jewish Ghetto with Micaela Pavoncello of JewishRoma. Mika is a bright, fascinating, knowledgeable, activist young woman who regaled us with tales of the history and culture of the two major groups of Jews in Rome: the Roman Jews (who are the only truly Palestinian Jews, descended from the Jews who had emigrated from Jerusalem as early as the 2nd century BCE/BC but who mostly arrived after the Destruction of The Temple in 70 CE/AD by the Romans) and the Libyan Jews, who came to Rome after the Six-Day War in 1967, when, through an airlift and the aid of several ships, the Italian navy helped evacuate more than 6,000 Jews to Rome in one month. The evacuees were forced to leave their homes, their businesses and most of their possessions behind. The Roman Jews are neither Ashkenazic nor Sephardic (the two types we are most used to in the US) so their customs and foods are unique to them: witness the fried artichoke (and other foods fried in olive oil, both olives and artichokes having grown in abundance in southern Italy).

We began our tour with a visit to the Tempio Maggiore, the Great Synagogue of Rome (where Micaela is to be married in May)—it was lovely inside, despite its architecture and decoration looking almost exactly like that of a church. We also toured the Jewish Museum of Rome, which is part of the Synagogue complex and houses the collection of the Jewish Community of Rome: silver produced in Rome between the 17th and 18th centuries, precious fabrics from all over Europe, marbles that survived the demolition of the Cinque Scole (the single building that housed 5 small synagogues) in the ghetto, and manuscripts from the Middle Ages. The Jews of Rome had been accorded special legal rights under Julius Caesar, crushed under the Emperor Titus, flourished during the Middle Ages and early Renaissance.

However, in 1555, Pope Paul IV decreed that all Jews must be segregated into their own quarters (the ghetto), and they were forbidden to leave their homes during the night. The ghetto was a swampy section of Rome directly on the River Tiber, surrounded on 3 sides by buildings that composed its walls. There were gates at the corners of the ghetto and churches outside the gates with plaques exhorting the Jews to convert. Jews were forced to attend church every Sunday but many put wax into their ears so that they wouldn’t have to hear the words of the Christian service. The ghetto is a shockingly small area, the walkways between buildings narrow and dark; the many Jews crammed in there were forced to build upwards, so that buildings reached 5 and 6 stories and families lived cramped in one room. The ghetto flooded when the Tiber River flooded. It must have been a miserable existence, one that is hard to imagine when seeing the modern ghetto area that exists today on the site that remains (although the Tiber now has an embankment). However, it only served to bring the community closer together in spirit, as well as physically.

We learned all this and more from Mika, including her political feelings about today’s Roman Jews and how she feels about the current Pope finally accepting an invitation to visit the Great Synagogue this spring, 5 years after he was invited (he’s been busy). She is well known in the community, as we learned while sitting at an outdoor cafe sipping cappucinos after our tour. A visit to Boccione, the famous Jewish bakery in the ghetto, had yielded only their “pizze,” a sort of fruitcake concoction, fresh out of the oven. Unfortunately, the cinnamon and almond biscottini were long gone. (with Mika at the Turtle Fountain, photo courtesy of Howard Greene)

And then we had to leave Rome, catch our Alitalia flight to London’s Heathrow airport. We stayed overnight in London and managed to waste enough time the next morning so that we only had 1 hour to dash through Harrods before heading back to the airport for our American Airlines flight home. Surprise: Harrods’ food court had a special Ladurée bakery, with pastries and macarons straight from Paris!

On Labor Day, we packed and prepared to leave the hotel early; we had to get the boys to the airport in time to catch their planes back to college. On our way out, we saw the newlyweds relaxing in the hot tub next to the swimming pool, so were able to say a last “thank you” and “good-bye.” The drive back to San Francisco was a lot faster, as the traffic was light, and we dropped Noah at the airport, but it turned out that Ben’s plane was running 3.5 hours late. So he stayed with us—we had been invited to the house of some friends for a Labor Day barbecue lunch. However, it was a little early yet, so we drove around downtown and visited the Apple store and Brookstone, where Ben needed to exchange the remote control helicopter we had just bought him for his birthday (it wasn’t working properly). After that we navigated the hilly streets of San Francisco until we found the right house, where we had a wonderful lunch and visit with not only our friends, but another couple we knew that they had invited. It was a pleasant afternoon but we all too soon had to leave to take Ben back to the airport and continue our drive down the coast to Big Sur—our destination.

We were taking a mini-vacation at The Post Ranch Inn, a magnificent and luxurious (yet somehow rustic) resort directly on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was a wonderfully relaxing few days. We had booked an upper Coast House with a view through the pine trees of the ocean from our balcony with its comfortable deck chairs (I wanted nothing more than to sit out here and knit all day long, watching the stellar jays hop from branch to branch in the trees and enjoying the bold chipmunk who jumped onto our balcony and scurried around searching for food). Standing there with the complimentary glass of Veuve & Cliquot champagne that they poured for me upon check-in at reception, I felt like I was in heaven, especially as the sun began to set through the tree branches:

However, indoors, our cozy “cabin” was nothing to sneer at either. All wood paneled, with floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, an extraordinarily comfortable bed , two complimentary half-bottles of wine, a complimentary minibar and fruit basket which were refilled each day with beverages and all sorts of snacks, an aged leather portfolio containing information about the inn (and its 90+ acres with hiking trails, pool, spa, and gourmet restaurant), our welcome gift of a packet of California wildflower seeds and a book about the Post Ranch’s long history, and the luxurious leather sofa (with chenille throw) and fireplace (with fire already laid and a copper kettle of extra split logs and kindling), you could say that our room was comfortable. Actually, you could say a lot more than that. There seemed to be a subdued zen aesthetic that tied the room together, that made it functional while, at the same time, alluringly decorative. Three black river stones sat on the fireplace mantle—I was constantly re-arranging these. A needlepoint chair sat near the bed. Extra pillows and a massage table were tucked into drawers beneath the bed (and, yes, I did have 2 complimentary massages—my husband didn’t want his—one each day, that came with our travel package…and they were absolutely wonderful). The rounded wood cabinet near the bed housed a Bose sound system but there was (thankfully) no television available. There was wifi but it seemed almost a shame to disturb the quiet by using the internet. The little table near the door holding the fruit basket also held a cutting board and knife to use with the fruit. Refrigerator snacks included camembert and crackers, white chocolate key lime cookies, gourmet nuts and a dark organic chocolate bar (as well as Snickers). There was, of course, a coffeemaker with a selection of coffees and teas; there were wine glasses in addition to drinking glasses (glass, not plastic). An extra blanket in the closet, a magnifying mirror in the bathroom…a lot of attention to detail. And, discreetly around the room, sand castings or bronze sculptures that caught your eye and required contemplation. Yet the furnishings were simple, not fancy, not extravagant. One felt at home, not out of place. Relaxed.

And this was before you went on to investigate the bathroom! The slate and granite bathroom also had a wall of glass (part of which slid open to the deck), a needlepoint chair on which to rest, a stepstool to help getting into the deep soaking tub/jacuzzi, bath salts, candle, shampoo, conditioner, body soap, etc.—all the amenities you could desire, including thick terrycloth robes, soft slippers and an abundance of thick grey terry towels. As each unit is situated so that no other unit is within view, you can feel free to bathe without drawing the blinds and feel as though you are in the outdoors. In the morning, the fog was often over the water and it was a little too chilly to actually open the bathroom door but the fog would often burn off by the time we went for breakfast; although, from the restaurant, you could see it lingering down the coast.

As you walk down toward the award-winning Sierra Mar restaurant you first notice the dramatic rusted iron sculpture and fountain that is placed outside, marking the restaurant’s site. It is only one of many such sculptures to be discovered around the grounds of the inn. The restaurant itself is stunning, with its walls of windows in square-shaped bays jutting out over the coastline. No matter where you sit in the dining room, you have the feeling that you are literally hanging over the cliffs above the ocean. The food and the service are phenomenal. The staff and servers could not have been nicer, doing everything in their power to make you feel as if you were right at home. Breakfast is included with the price of your unit and turned out to be quite a delicious affair, consisting of fresh juice, lovely fresh fruit and berries (have you ever seen “salmonberries”—yellow raspberries?), yogurt, granola, an assortment of breads and pastries, and omelets or eggs (with all sorts of add-ins) cooked to order by a chef at the buffet. Open from 8 am until 10:30 am, I could easily have had a late breakfast and gone without any lunch! (Though there is a lunch menu.) The prix fixe four course dinners (or you could also order à la carte) were extravagantly creative beyond belief. The menu changes daily and features organic, seasonal fare cooked in a style that is innovative and “California French” without being overly heavy. However, the entrée choices are generally limited to only one choice each of meat, vegetarian, fish, seafood (and sometimes poultry). The first night, not liking the entrée choices, I merely dined on an appetizer (a foie gras sampler consisting of seared foie gras, foie gras mousse served with cornmeal mini-pancakes and a foie gras créme brulèe with caramelized top) and a salad. The desserts were spectacular. The next night our dinner was also complimentary with our travel package, so we made the most of it and each ordered the prix fixe menu but it was simply too much rich food for me to eat, including the amuse bouche of a quail egg with caviar and the plate of after-dessert petit fours! That night we had quite a surprise: My husband looked up as we were seated at our table and said, “You won’t believe this but I think that Jacob and Miriam are here.” Sure enough, Sierra Mar has such a reputation that the newlyweds had driven down there from their honeymoon in Carmel to have dinner! They looked amazingly happy and in love.

Below the restaurant, you could view the kelp beds in the ocean though there was no way to get down the cliffs to the water. When you walked along the paths around the resort however, there were surprises around every corner. Strikingly, the hills and mountains loomed up across a meadow (and I suppose across the road) from behind the inn. My husband took hikes every day and actually saw wild turkeys and deer; but I preferred the quiet of sitting on our balcony, knitting, and daydreaming while looking out over the ocean. Relaxation.

Everywhere on the grounds there were both natural, native plants and beautiful plantings of every sort. Growing along a wooden fence, we found this unusual flower:

Finally, we had our greatest adventure on our last night at the resort. We walked to a more advantageous location to watch the sunset and, as we turned away from the last rays of the dying light and I had put away my camera, two people came walking toward us on the path. They said “Hi,” as guests there tended to do but, as they walked on by, I did a double-take. The woman, dressed in jeans and a short black trench coat, was immediately recognizable—she was Anne Hathaway! We had no idea of the identity of her companion; it took a bit of googling before my husband even realized who she was. However, the next morning, while I was still packing and he was down in reception checking out, she came in to inquire about other types of units (they were staying in a Tree House) and she struck up a 10-minute conversation with my husband! He even suggested she go up to look at our unit, since she had said she would prefer an ocean view, but if she did come up, I was long gone, as the bellman arrived in the Lexus to take me and the luggage down to the parking lot. Oh well, celebrity sighting nonetheless.

We had a pleasant drive back to San Francisco airport and an uneventful ride home. It is always a good feeling to be back in your own house and your own bed, even when you have been staying somewhere as spectacular as The Post Ranch Inn. I would like to save up for another visit there; I loved it and felt totally relaxed.

Seriously, September is almost over and I completely forgot to tell you about our Labor Day weekend away in California (where I hoped to finally bask in some hot summer weather, as our summer in Chicago had been so miserable and rainy…but where it turned out to be mild, even chilly at times. The sun, however, did not disappoint.)

The occasion behind our trip was the wedding of my husband’s nephew Jacob to his long-time girlfriend Miriam, and it was quite a lovely affair. We flew into San Francisco and drove up to Sonoma in the wine country. The Oakland Bay Bridge was closed that weekend (as at least several hundred signs informed us), so the traffic going north for any Labor Day weekenders to Sonoma or Napa Valley was fairly heavy, plus there was a motorcycle accident off the highway on the main road leading to the valley cutoffs. However, eventually we made it to Sonoma, checked into The Lodge at Sonoma, where we found we had been upgraded to a darling cottage, and had arrived just in time for the afternoon wine tasting (and how I wish I had written down the name of the chardonnay I tasted—it was fabulous)! We ran into several relatives in the lobby; naturally, everyone was nervous but very excited. That night we had a most fabulous dinner at the girl & the fig in downtown Sonoma to celebrate my youngest son’s 19th birthday.

Having a waiter who knew about all the dishes and made excellent suggestions for them, as well as for the beers and wines, helped a great deal. It may not have been the restaurant Ben would have chosen (however, on the way up to Sonoma, he did pull a birthday insist on stopping for an In-N-Out burger!), but we all enjoyed the excellent and creative food and even shared a dessert selection.

Saturday, my husband and I walked the 1.25+ miles into downtown Sonoma and walked around the little shops lining the main square. I was concerned about finding a shawl to wear at the wedding, as the evening temperature on Sunday was predicted to be a lot cooler than I was prepared for (when originally I was afraid I’d be too hot in my outfit!). Lots of cute shops in Sonoma and I did find a thin black cashmere (not really pashmina) shawl at a reasonable price. Then we walked back to the hotel (I just made it in the hot sun) and had a late lunch in the restaurant, including many, many glasses of cold water. Throughout the day (and the night before) we kept running into people who were there for the wedding—it was wonderful catching up with those we knew and those we didn’t (from the bride’s side); they all introduced themselves and were extremely friendly. However, we also met some other people: “Are you going to the wedding?” people would shout out…only it turned out there were several weddings scheduled for that weekend!

That afternoon I ironed everyone’s clothes (fun) and burned my arm with the iron (ouch)! Saturday evening was the rehearsal dinner given by the groom’s parents (who have been divorced for many years but were present with their respective others) and it seemed to include nearly everyone attending the wedding. It consisted of a reception with full bar and hors d’oeuvres on the pool patio, then a stunning buffet in the hotel and a video of the bride and groom put together by the bride’s brother. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my camera along.

Sunday I rested and did some knitting while the boys went out for a drive. The buses for the wedding, which was being held at the B.R. Cohn Winery were leaving at 3:15, so we had to dress early. We arrived at the winery to find this beautiful setting:

Thoughtfully, the bartender was passing out bottles of plain and soda water, as well as pouring two different flavors of lemonade, for people to drink while they were waiting for the wedding to begin (it was scheduled for 4:30 pm). Once seated, this was the view we had over the vineyards toward the sunset:

We all wrote our congratuatory wishes on a framed portrait of the bride and groom, picked up programs, and found seats. Finally the music from a trio of flute, violin and bass began as the bridal party made its way down the stairs carved into the hillside. It was quite a dramatic entrance. The men were all dressed in khaki suits with brown ties, including the best man Alec, the groom’s younger brother, who had flown in all the way from New Zealand (where he has been working for the past few years), while the three bridesmaids, all friends of the bride, wore perfectly lovely, simple, strapless and short brown dresses (a bridesmaid’s dress one could definitely wear again!). They looked sleek and stunning and their bouquets were outstanding:

The traditional Jewish ceremony (with a female rabbi from MIT and a cantor) was held under a chuppah that had been appliqued with care and love by the bride’s mother with flowers cut from her own wedding dress. Friends and relatives of the couple gave readings from various selections (including the Velveteen Rabbit) and recited blessings. Finally, after exchanging rings, being wrapped in a tallit, and smashing the glass, the lovely newlyweds turned to walk back up the aisle:

followed by the groom’s beaming parents:

as well as the bride’s proud parents:

and the rest of the wedding party.

Then the reception began. As the sun set behind the hill, guests sampled champagne and wine from the vineyard, enjoyed hors d’oeuvres being passed by the caterers, as well as an heirloom tomato bar. We all mingled and generally basked in that warm and loving glow that a comes from sharing in the wedding of two of the nicest people you know. Everyone wanted to have their photo taken with the beautiful bride. Here is one of Miriam and me: (I am wearing my Eileen Fisher outfit and my Kathy Frey jewelry, while Miriam looks stunning in her simple strapless gown—although you can barely see the elaborate embroidery which highlighted it).

Finally, as the sky grew dark, we all walked back up the hill where tables surrounding a dance floor were topped with flowers and glittering with candles atop tablecloths elaborately decorated with ribbon embroidery in a pale pink. The tables were set up under the olive trees (the B. R. Cohn Winery also produces bottled olive oil in different flavors). which were wrapped with strands of twinkling lights and hung with lanterns. It was truly a breathtaking and romantic setting. The newlyweds shared their first dance and we began a wonderful dinner, which started with a salad and continued with entrees of sea bass and various vegetarian selections, including goat cheese pasta. All the while, the waiters were pouring wine and an “upstairs” bar remained open for those who wanted beer or something stronger. Toasts, thanks, and tributes were given; everyone seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. At some point the music began and people started to dance—everyone seemed to hit the dance floor; it wasn’t just the younger people who were rocking to the music. Even those from the young to the old seemed to be having a great time. Of course, people danced the hora and hoisted the wedding couple aloft on chairs—that is traditional.

Finally it was time to cut the cake:

which turned out to have both chocolate cake and carrot cake layers. The carousing continued until it was time to return to the buses at 10 pm (apparently Sonoma county has a noise ordinance stipulating that outdoor parties must end at 10). We were exhausted, I was decidedly tipsy, and our cottage at the hotel looked mighty inviting.

I spent the week before last in the Phoenix area—went for a garden wedding and stayed for a reunion with my cousins. Aside from the weather (seriously, you can say, “It’s a DRY heat!” all you want…but when the temperature hovers between 103º and 117º, it is “somebody staked me out in the desert and left me to die” weather, no matter which way you slice it), I had a great time visiting with relatives, drinking at The Blue Martini,

trying my first Sprinkles cupcake, and shopping at The Fiber Factory in Mesa and a Rings & Things wholesale bead show. Unfortunately, I never did make it to The Bead Museum in Glendale; I ran out of time (especially when I discovered that my flight home was on Thursday, not Friday as I thought—thank you to my son for that important and timely information!). By the way, The Bead Museum is in need of funding to stay open, so visit their site and donate, okay?

Despite the heat, I did enjoy one of its results: the incredible variety of cactus:

However, without a doubt, there were two outstanding exhibits that I did visit on my trip. The first was the Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef Project at the Scottsdale Civic Center Library Gallery and the second was the Dale Chihuly “The Nature of Glass” exhibit at the Desert Botanical Garden. Both were absolutely amazing in their use of color, texture, natural materials, and imitation of nature.

Here are a few photos of the Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef Project:

(yes, beads!)

(metallic thread)

And the amazing Dale Chihuly “The Nature of Glass” exhibit:

Okay, so it’s been well over a month (nearly 2?) since I wrote a blog post but, in my defense, they have been 2 very busy months. I don’t even want to relive them. Suffice it to say that the holidays are over; my mother is home from Florida; my sons are home from college for the summer; my knee is healing slowly; I’ve bought lots of fibery goodies on the internet; and springtime and sunshine are finally cheering me up.

I put away several unfinished winter sweater projects in favor of picking up the 2nd try at the February Lady Sweater for spring but then put that away unfinished and now want to work on some summer tanks and tees, since the weather has jumped into the higher digits so quickly. I’ll pick it up again later in the summer, as the colors I’m using would make it a great fall sweater.

At the moment I’m frantically working on the International Crochet Guild’s 2009 Challenge: The Four Seasons, which is due tomorrow. I still have most of autumn and all of summer to finish! And then I have to photograph it. And tomorrow is Mother’s Day and we have 2 mothers/grandmas to visit.

But the most exciting news, is that I am starting a WolfWeave jewelry business and opening shops on Etsy and Artfire, neither of which will be fully functional until June (so don’t go looking for them now, as there is nothing there). I have my business license, my business cards, my business checking account, my paypal account, etc.; all my supplies (boy, I love ordering supplies!); some designs drawn up; my photography set-up and light tent; and my eldest son’s abandoned room cordoned off as “MY SPACE.” I just need to get to work actually making some jewelry (LOL), and come up with a banner for my sale sites.

But all, including photos, in good time. Next week we’re off to Phoenix for a wedding and then I’m staying over for a mini-reunion with my 4 female cousins who are usually spread across the continent but will be in town for a college and a high school graduation of their nieces.

And the first week in June is the Bead & Button Show up in Milwaukee. Somehow I signed up for 5 classes!, despite the fact that I know I’ll be exhausted after the second one and won’t absorb or retain any of the information. I swore last time (3 years ago) that I wouldn’t take so many classes next time around…but I did it again. Oh well—here’s to a good time and fun shopping.

After that…WORK. I also intend to keep up more with my blogging; but, in the meantime, you can always read my twitter feeds in the sidebar (inane though they mostly are).

Till next time………

Over winter break, we headed off for what we thought would be a warm, sunny visit to Madrid and Barcelona…well…it was sunny in Madrid but rained the entire time we were in Barcelona and the weather in both places was mostly in the 40′s. Okay, granted it was a tremendous improvement over the near-zero temperatures and snow back home in Chicago but, expecting warmer weather, I had only packed a sweatshirt and was pretty cold (and wet) most of the time. Plus I took two spectacular falls—one extremely embarrassing full-length fall when I tripped over the thick carpet while staring at the gorgeous surroundings in the lobby of Madrid’s 1910-era Ritz Hotel. I wasn’t hurt, but having all the doormen rush to your rescue was pretty embarrassing. Then, the last day of the trip, in Barcelona, I was too busy closing my umbrella while entering a store to watch where I was going and missed the step up, tripped, fell sideways, and smashed my back against the marble window ledge. Bruised ribs (hairline fractures) and an extremely painful trip home on the airplane.

Other than those mishaps, we had a delightful time, visited nearly all the museums and saw tons of art; enjoyed walking around the the medieval “Barri Gotic” section of Barcelona with its close, winding streets (even in the rain) and imagining the people who lived there hundreds of years ago; soaked in as much Art Nouveau and Gaudi architecture as we could find; and loved visiting Barcelona’s St. Joseph’s Marketplace (everything from squid, live crabs and lobsters, to pigs and skinned rabbits, to mountains of fresh fruit and vegetables, to hundreds of different kinds of olives and olive oils, to nuts and dried fruits, to cheeses, to sausages, and to the infinite varieties of ham that are a Spanish delicacy. Madrid had been filled with Christmas shoppers, wonderful nighttime light displays (each major thoroughfare had a holiday light display designed by a different artist), but a lot of the buildings from the mid-20th century were overwhelming and depressing in that stark Franco-era way.

I never did get used to the mealtime schedule—eating dinner at 9 or 10 pm just did not sit well with me. We ate at some wonderful restaurants but, in general, I did not like the Spanish food too much. However, I grew to love “cava”—the Catalonian champagne, and the reserve brands were every bit as good as the finest French. The boys had a wonderful time exploring and even went to the casino in Barcelona one night. Below are some photos from our trip.

In Madrid, we stayed at the Hotel Urban, which was simply luxurious, especially as we splurged on a suite for ourselves (sticking the boys in a regular room). The suite was a comfortable haven of contemporary glass walls, stainless steel, polished wood, leather sofas, shot-silk bedspread, and fake-fur throw. The bathroom was a luxurious spa of granite and glass. I took a video of the room, so don’t have any photos of it. Here is the atrium of the hotel:

The owner of the hotel chain is an archaeologist and in the basement there was a small Egyptian museum, featuring mostly BEADED items from around 2300 – 1500 BC. It was heavenly:

We visited the 3 major museums in Madrid, which are all within walking distance of each other: The Prado, the Reina Sofia, and the Thyssen Bornemisza. We saw everything from El Greco and Goya paintings to Velazquez’ famous “Las Meninas” to Picasso’s “Guernica”.

Then it was on to Barcelona. We took the high-speed Renfe Ave train, which was delightful and comfortable as it sped through the hills, plains and villages of the countryside on its 3-hour journey. Our first day in Barcelona was Christmas Day and absolutely everything was closed, except for the Antonio Gaudi-designed Park Guell. Luckily, this was also the only non-rainy day we had in Barcelona, so we hopped a taxi up the hill to the top of the city and the whimsical park:

The wrought iron gate:

One of the gatehouse towers:

A window in the gatehouse:

The monument at the top of the hill:

One of the fountains, as you walk up the stairs to the marketplace:

The marketplace with its pillars:

and the surprising ceiling among the pillars:

The plaza above the marketplace with its benches surrounding open space:

Closeups of the mosaics on the benches and elsewhere:

Every possible surface was meticulously thought out and covered in some pattern, whether it was stones, mosaics, glass tiles, ironwork, paint, or even the flagstones on the walkways:

There were meandering paths through the park (which had originally been planned as a housing development) filled with with plants, such as these giant agave:

Finally, there was the house that Gaudi lived in for the latter part of his life, which is now a museum. Sadly, it was closed that day:

One overcast day we walked down the Passeig de Gracia, once home to the finest Art Nouveau and Modernisme homes and apartment buildings (now a high-end fashion boulevard) to visit the two famous Gaudi landmarks: Casa Batllo and La Pedrera. Casa Batllo (1877) is a small apartment building with 1 elevator and 2 apartments per floor, 2 open atriums and lots of light and cross ventilation in the rooms (a hallmark of Gaudi’s designs). One of the apartments was made up as though the Batllo family still lived there.

The outside of the building:

The atrium of the building:

and one of the apartment doors:

The stained glass arch between rooms in the refurbished apartment:

and a mosaic bench in the backyard of the building:

Of course, the most fascinating part of all was the rooftop with its chimneys, towers and ridgeline—supposed to be a simulation of the battle between St. George and the dragon:

Next it was waiting in another long line to get into Gaudi’s large apartment building, Casa Mila or, as it is more commonly called, La Pedrera (1906-1910). The building had what must have once been a vibrantly painted entrance foyer and courtyard:

More subdued on the inside, it nevertheless had interesting Art Nouveau detailing around the doors and windows:

However, once again, Gaudi shone with his decoration of the rooftop:

Gaudi is considered such an important architect (and tourist attraction) in Barcelona that the sidewalks of the Passeig de Gracia are paved with hexagonal tiles that he designed:

Unfortunately, we never made it to the Sagrada Familia, the church that Gaudi began and which is as yet unfinished (other architects following Gaudi’s drawings—he never used blueprints, only drawings and models—are attempting to complete it as they think he would have wanted it to look and the entire project has become quite controversial) and hopes to be finished by 2026.

Of course, much of the rest of Barcelona has Art Nouveau touches wherever you look (as long as you look up!)—wrought iron balconies, decorations on buildings, even mosaic signs such as this one advertising the incredible chocolate shop on La Rambla (the busy tourist boulevard):

Taking shelter from the rain, we visited the Barcelona cathedral, the Picasso Museum, and the Barcelona Contemporary Art Museum, which was designed by Richard Meier. We saw portions of old Roman walls and aqueducts, as well as the above-mentioned gothic quarter from medieval times. Worn out from the endless rain, we did miss a number of other museums, such as the Joan Miro Foundation and the Salvador Dali Foundation and never made it down to the port or beach. Still, in better weather, Barcelona must be an incredible city to visit.

We stayed in Wengen, a small village nestled in a valley between two major mountain ranges in the Alps, at a delightful hotel called the Alpenrose

Ah, how fast and fleeting the days of summer!

So much for the poetry. You may have noticed that my blog was missing for most of the summer due to some glitch that it eventually took my eldest son days and days of rewriting code to repair before it showed back up online in late August. Thank you Aaron!

By that time the summer had sped by in a haze of noise (around our house primarily Guitar Hero and Rock Band—endless pounding of the drum set), the rush of boys (friends in and out; excursions to concerts and tournaments; not coming home from friends’ houses at night—Noah; and driving after curfew and pushing the envelope to separate from Mom and Dad before going off to college—Ben); and a hassle of trying to get Ben ready for that first college experience (trying to pin him down on bedding choices, about which he could have cared less; trying to get him to go buy clothes…equally frustrating, etc.).

Finally we managed to corral the two of them into a last minute (last time?) family vacation with an offer of Paris (about which they were excited) and Switzerland (less so). Unfortunately, Aaron couldn’t join us, as he had just returned from speaking at two conferences in Italy and was worn out from traveling. We made complete travel arrangements the week before we left (to the detriment of my blood pressure) but everything worked out fine and we had the most wonderful trip.

We had Paris:

or, rather, Paris had us…as we toured Ste. Chapelle and Notre Dame; took a boat ride down the Seine, seeing this original model of the Statue of Liberty (with the Eiffel Tower in the background):

and took a quick tour of the Louvre:

We stayed on the Left Bank in St. Germain des Pres

near the two famous haunts of Left Bank intellectuals (such as Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir)—the cafés Les Deux Magots and Café de Flore (where we had a stereotypically French waiter):

We spent a day at the Musée d’Orsay, feasting on Impressionists and Art Nouveau:

One of the original Metropolitain signs:

And some incredible Art Nouveau jewelry (the first a brooch by Tiffany):

We had the best ice cream in Paris:

and found that just strolling the streets was an adventure. We passed the house where Rudolf Nureyev spent the last years of his life:

and made a stop near the Académie des Arts at Sennelier, home to the best chalk pastels in the art world, surprised at the tiny size of the store inside:

We wandered the curving streets of the Marais district with its strange juxtaposition of quaint mosaic-clad storefronts and its Soho-like stores bearing the latest in avant-garde fashions:

We explored the Pompidou.

We had killer hot chocolate at Angelina and some phenomenal food at (yes) the Paris Hilton:

Warm tomato soup with basil sorbet and traditional French onion soup:

And then, of course, we waited 90 minutes to go up the Eiffel Tower as the sun was setting.

The tower became bathed in blue lights and then small white bulbs sparkled all up and down its height.

The view from the second level was spectacular. I kept walking around and around, picking out different Paris sights.

I loved being up there so much I never wanted to come down!

It seems this spring is turning into a traveling one.

We flew to Phoenix last weekend for family and one of those times, unfortunately, when family gather—a funeral. My husband’s uncle passed away at 94. He had been an attorney in Chicago, an avid long-distance bicyclist and, well into his 70′s and 80′s, a tireless pro-bono representative for inmates sitting on death row. Apparently he was instrumental in helping to get Illinois’s then Governor Ryan to overturn the state death penalty and release the death row prisoners.

Laid to rest in an idyllic spot on the water underneath a willow tree, Uncle Joe’s funeral was a true celebration of his life. His children and friends shared stories, reminiscences, songs, and even a little dance that evoked his true quirky spirit. Unfortunately, for me, the funeral brought up a lot of painfully sharp, unexpected and unbidden memories of my own dad’s funeral just five months ago. It was a bittersweet day. Yet it was wonderful sitting with family members we hadn’t seen in years and just talking, sharing lives again. Family—it’s what’s really important.

Then, next weekend we jet off to Boston on the first of the four college visits that have to be completed in the next two weeks so that my youngest son can make a decision before the May 1st college deadline! Yes, it’s great that he has choices and maybe we shouldn’t have left it till now (though we really had few options), but what a whirlwind tour it is going to be! College—isn’t the experience what you make of it? Once all the pressure is off, won’t you pretty much be happy wherever you end up choosing to go?