I've had a good run of Sundays lately. Three Sundays ago, I was in Paris. No need to explain why that was sensational, right? Last Sunday was one of my favorite at-home Sunday in a long time. I read half a book, I gardened, I took a good walk, I took a nap, i read half of another book, and I cooked a dinner I loved. Pretty simple day, all in all, but it felt great. Today was another great day. I had breakfast with friends, gardened, decluttered my house, had dinner with a second group of friends, and gardened some more.
These great Sundays have made me want to find a way to make them a permanent feature in my life. I'm dreaming of a school year filled with one spectacular day a week off. Just one: that's enough. Honestly, if past performance is an indicator of future actions, I'm in for a rough time. Like most of the academics I know, I rarely take a full day off during the school year. When I do, there's some giant pile of ungraded papers festering in a corner somewhere, making me miserable until I grade them. Maybe my new thing for October will be the challenge to sustain this string of Sundays or shake it up with a Saturday or two. I suspect that a sure path to another bout of burnout involves pushing myself to work for two or three week stretches without a day off. Balance has never been my strong suit, but I think I'll try to get the hang of it, one day off at a time.
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Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
New Thing Update, July
This was another month of big new things. I went to Scotland for the first time, took my niece and nephew to Europe (a new thing for them and me), I went on a London pub crawl, and visited lots new sites in Scotland, England, and France.
Need to find some interesting new thing for August--something low cost and close to home. I open to suggestions!
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Need to find some interesting new thing for August--something low cost and close to home. I open to suggestions!
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Sunday, July 24, 2011
My Teenaged Garden
Thirteen years ago, just a few months after I moved into my house, I decided it was time to put a garden in the back yard. A desire to have my own, big garden was one of my primary reasons for buying the house. I'd gardened at a community garden for years, and I loved it. The organization that owned the garden taught me so much about organic gardening, so I felt ready to create and maintain my own garden. After moving in, i still had a gigantic pile of cardboard boxes in my basement. I'd kept them with my future garden in mind.
But first, the design. My yard is wide and shallow, but it was a blank slate--nothing but grass. I went out with a long, long piece of clothesline and some garden staples, and I mapped out a kind of crescent moon shaped bed, fifty feet wide, twenty five feet deep at its deepest point, and only three or four feet at its shallowest. I asked some friends to come over to look at it, and they all agreed that it was a good design. Next step? Soil. I ordered enough topsoil/compost mix to cover the whole garden with a good five inches of soil. Before it arrived, I hauled those cardboard boxes out of the basement, I'd already broken them down, and now, on this brisk December day, I spread them out over the lawn, layering them over each other to create a giant cardboard patchwork. I had a stack of old newspapers, and those went down, too. Next, I started to transfer the gigantic mountain of topsoil over the top of the cardboard and newspapers. Wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow, I moved soil for days until the garden was created. I'd hammered edging around the entire garden, creating an enormous raised bed. Next, I created pathways through the garden so I wouldn't have to walk on the soil to weed. Over the course of my winter break, the bed came together. Of course, I'd have to wait until spring to plant it.
I was pretty poor at that point in time, so I decided to start perennials from seed. That, along with plants divided from friend's gardens made the garden lovely from year one. I even took cuttings from a couple shrubs in my parents yard in Pennsylvania, and I figured out how to get them to grow roots. I grabbed some seedpods off of a Redbud tree I admired near school, and I started those that winer, too. By spring, I was ready to go. The garden is an unruly teenager now. I tend to it as best I can, but it definitely has a mind of it's own. The Redbud is probably 15 feet tall now; the shrubs are large and healthy, and the perennials I started have been divided and shared with friends many times over.
I love my garden, though I curse my younger self for making it so large. Mostly, though, I'm proud of what I created.
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But first, the design. My yard is wide and shallow, but it was a blank slate--nothing but grass. I went out with a long, long piece of clothesline and some garden staples, and I mapped out a kind of crescent moon shaped bed, fifty feet wide, twenty five feet deep at its deepest point, and only three or four feet at its shallowest. I asked some friends to come over to look at it, and they all agreed that it was a good design. Next step? Soil. I ordered enough topsoil/compost mix to cover the whole garden with a good five inches of soil. Before it arrived, I hauled those cardboard boxes out of the basement, I'd already broken them down, and now, on this brisk December day, I spread them out over the lawn, layering them over each other to create a giant cardboard patchwork. I had a stack of old newspapers, and those went down, too. Next, I started to transfer the gigantic mountain of topsoil over the top of the cardboard and newspapers. Wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow, I moved soil for days until the garden was created. I'd hammered edging around the entire garden, creating an enormous raised bed. Next, I created pathways through the garden so I wouldn't have to walk on the soil to weed. Over the course of my winter break, the bed came together. Of course, I'd have to wait until spring to plant it.
I was pretty poor at that point in time, so I decided to start perennials from seed. That, along with plants divided from friend's gardens made the garden lovely from year one. I even took cuttings from a couple shrubs in my parents yard in Pennsylvania, and I figured out how to get them to grow roots. I grabbed some seedpods off of a Redbud tree I admired near school, and I started those that winer, too. By spring, I was ready to go. The garden is an unruly teenager now. I tend to it as best I can, but it definitely has a mind of it's own. The Redbud is probably 15 feet tall now; the shrubs are large and healthy, and the perennials I started have been divided and shared with friends many times over.
I love my garden, though I curse my younger self for making it so large. Mostly, though, I'm proud of what I created.
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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The Ride Home
I'm about four hours into my flight from Paris to New York City. I got an email from Eric yesterday telling me that he made it to the US okay, but that the Metro ride from the hotel to the airport was much longer than expected, and that they'd waited in line at ticketing and at security for a total of nearly two hours. This made me rethink the idea of sleeping in and getting a lazy start to Charles de Gaulle. We got up early and had breakfast, and I looked into transportation options. A taxi would cost €60 or more (about $90), and that was just too much. I found a bus that runs from a nearby Metro stop to the airport for €10 per person, so that seemed like the best option. It took an hour on the bus alone, but it dropped us off at our terminal, so it was easy. We'll want to keep this option in mind for next summer. I guess Mondays are slower airport days than Sundays, because we zipped through ticketing and security. Still, we got to the gate at just about the time I'd hoped we would. I'm glad we got an early start.
Charles de Gaulle is a wonderland of duty free shopping, but shockingly devoid of coffee. As much as I love French coffee, I've been longing for one of our enormous American-sized cups for a few days now. Given the number of Starbucks in Paris, I thought I might find one at CDG, but no. All I could find was a souvenir shop with one tiny section of snacks and bottled water--and the ubiquitous Orangina. Instead of coffee, I settled on a box of lemon tarts and some snacks for the kids, along with a big bottle of Evian. I guess that lemon tarts for lunch continue the diet busting meal plan I've enjoyed in Paris. Given that I haven't walked my usual ten million steps today, though, those teeny tarts are probably turning into belly fat as I write.
Andy and Maria seem eager to get home now. I think that the accumulated strain of foreign travel has caught up with them as it does with me at some point. The incessant pace of travel, no matter how pleasant, combined with the basic difficulty of hauling luggage around, communicating a foreign language, using foreign currency, etc. takes its toll. I know they've had a great time, but I do understand wanting to get back to normal life. I do, too.
I had an interesting moment in the Metro today. I was trying to buy tickets, and the attendant was being less than helpful when I really needed help. Behind me in line was a Chinese couple, and I could tell that they were even more mystified by the touch screen ticket machine that I was. They asked me if they knew how they could get a pack of ten tickets, so after I'd finally resolved my own issue with the machine, and before they had a chance to buy, I walked them through it. When their turn came, they were still iffy about it, so I asked if I could help them, and they looked so grateful. I got them their tickets and we walked to the platform together and talked a bit. They are from Hong Kong, in France for ten days, and they don't speak any French. They speak English, though, so I suspect they'll do fine. I told them that I'd been in China, and they were so excited. I really wanted to ask them if I could take their picture (I feel obligated to ask this of all Chinese visitors I encounter after my moment of celebrity in China) but I didn't have the guts. I said tsai tsien and boarded my train. I kind of feel like I chipped away a teeny bit at the debt of gratitude I owe to all the Chinese people who helped me in my travels. The Scottish, English, and French ones, too, for that matter. I think that debt will take me a long time to pay off.
We'll be in Buffalo by 9 tonight, and then in Erie by midnight. My travels are surely over for the year. I've had an amazing run. I don't think I'll have an adventure filled year like this one for a vey long time.
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Charles de Gaulle is a wonderland of duty free shopping, but shockingly devoid of coffee. As much as I love French coffee, I've been longing for one of our enormous American-sized cups for a few days now. Given the number of Starbucks in Paris, I thought I might find one at CDG, but no. All I could find was a souvenir shop with one tiny section of snacks and bottled water--and the ubiquitous Orangina. Instead of coffee, I settled on a box of lemon tarts and some snacks for the kids, along with a big bottle of Evian. I guess that lemon tarts for lunch continue the diet busting meal plan I've enjoyed in Paris. Given that I haven't walked my usual ten million steps today, though, those teeny tarts are probably turning into belly fat as I write.
Andy and Maria seem eager to get home now. I think that the accumulated strain of foreign travel has caught up with them as it does with me at some point. The incessant pace of travel, no matter how pleasant, combined with the basic difficulty of hauling luggage around, communicating a foreign language, using foreign currency, etc. takes its toll. I know they've had a great time, but I do understand wanting to get back to normal life. I do, too.
I had an interesting moment in the Metro today. I was trying to buy tickets, and the attendant was being less than helpful when I really needed help. Behind me in line was a Chinese couple, and I could tell that they were even more mystified by the touch screen ticket machine that I was. They asked me if they knew how they could get a pack of ten tickets, so after I'd finally resolved my own issue with the machine, and before they had a chance to buy, I walked them through it. When their turn came, they were still iffy about it, so I asked if I could help them, and they looked so grateful. I got them their tickets and we walked to the platform together and talked a bit. They are from Hong Kong, in France for ten days, and they don't speak any French. They speak English, though, so I suspect they'll do fine. I told them that I'd been in China, and they were so excited. I really wanted to ask them if I could take their picture (I feel obligated to ask this of all Chinese visitors I encounter after my moment of celebrity in China) but I didn't have the guts. I said tsai tsien and boarded my train. I kind of feel like I chipped away a teeny bit at the debt of gratitude I owe to all the Chinese people who helped me in my travels. The Scottish, English, and French ones, too, for that matter. I think that debt will take me a long time to pay off.
We'll be in Buffalo by 9 tonight, and then in Erie by midnight. My travels are surely over for the year. I've had an amazing run. I don't think I'll have an adventure filled year like this one for a vey long time.
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Sunday, July 17, 2011
Paris Finale
This was our last day in Paris. Eric and Heather left this morning to return to the States, so Andy, Maria, and I were on our own. We packed the day full of great sightseeing, shopping, and eating. First, we went to mass at Notre Dame and toured the church, as well. Notre Dame is a gothic masterpiece. I've seen it several times, but it's just as breathtaking as it was the first time I saw it. Sadly, I got us off at the wrong Metro stop, so we were power walking through Montparnasse and the Latin Quarter in order to make it to 8:30am Mass.
I've been dying to see Sainte Chapelle for ages, but every time I've been in Paris, there has been some reason why I have't seen it. Today was my day. This church is known for its spectacular windows, and they were stunning--nearly whole walls of stained glass. Sorry that these photos don't manage to convey the beauty of this place.
Next, we walked down the Ile de la Cite, the little island on the Seine River where Notre Dame and Sainte Chapelle both stand, to the park at the western tip of the island, Square du Vert-Galant. My friend, Lee, good friend to many of my blog readers, loved Paris and knew the city well. When his best friend, Nell, was planning a trip to Paris some years ago, Lee drew up a list of his favorite things to do in the city, and picnicking in this little park was on that list. Nell was kind enough to share Lee's top ten with me, and I wanted to try to visit some of them on this trip. I've thought of him frequently in Paris imagining him walking through the places I was visiting,and that has been kind of bittersweet. Lee died in 2009; Chasing down some of his Paris haunts made me feel a little closer to him. The little park is charming, by the way, but it was so cold and windy today that the picnic was out.
No comments on this dumpy Paris look, please:
We walked out of the park and across Pont Neuf, Paris' oldest bridge, straight to a cafe for a little late morning dessert. Why not? We're in Paris, the land of breathtaking desserts.
One lemon tart and cafe au lait later, we were on our way to our next stop, Opera Garnier. This is actually a Hemingway haunt that I wanted to visit for scouting purposes. Apparently, he would often walk here to clear his head after writing. The kids wanted to visit because it's the place where Phantom of the Opera is set, and they were in the orchestra for their high school's production of the musical. On the inside, this building is beyond opulent. Not so grand as Versailles. More like a decorative explosion of some kind. Over the top is a term that might describe it best. I tried to imagine this clearing a writer's head; it would certainly provide a visual distraction.
Yes, this is a Chagall painting on the ceiling.
We grabbed some baguette sandwiches at a patisserie, and jumped on the Metro to head to...a mall! Maria is a fashion hound, and she was determined to bring back some Paris fashions. I'd set aside a couple of hours today for her to hit the shops, but I was surprised to find out that many, many Paris shops are closed on Sundays. I did some research and found a place just outside the city limits. It would have been much more fun to hit a city shopping street, but that was out. She bought herself some clothes and we came back to Rue Cler for our final Paris dinner.
European Adventure 2011 is nearly over. We're packing up tonight and heading to the airport in the morning. We've had a good trip: fun and productive.
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I've been dying to see Sainte Chapelle for ages, but every time I've been in Paris, there has been some reason why I have't seen it. Today was my day. This church is known for its spectacular windows, and they were stunning--nearly whole walls of stained glass. Sorry that these photos don't manage to convey the beauty of this place.
Next, we walked down the Ile de la Cite, the little island on the Seine River where Notre Dame and Sainte Chapelle both stand, to the park at the western tip of the island, Square du Vert-Galant. My friend, Lee, good friend to many of my blog readers, loved Paris and knew the city well. When his best friend, Nell, was planning a trip to Paris some years ago, Lee drew up a list of his favorite things to do in the city, and picnicking in this little park was on that list. Nell was kind enough to share Lee's top ten with me, and I wanted to try to visit some of them on this trip. I've thought of him frequently in Paris imagining him walking through the places I was visiting,and that has been kind of bittersweet. Lee died in 2009; Chasing down some of his Paris haunts made me feel a little closer to him. The little park is charming, by the way, but it was so cold and windy today that the picnic was out.
No comments on this dumpy Paris look, please:
We walked out of the park and across Pont Neuf, Paris' oldest bridge, straight to a cafe for a little late morning dessert. Why not? We're in Paris, the land of breathtaking desserts.
One lemon tart and cafe au lait later, we were on our way to our next stop, Opera Garnier. This is actually a Hemingway haunt that I wanted to visit for scouting purposes. Apparently, he would often walk here to clear his head after writing. The kids wanted to visit because it's the place where Phantom of the Opera is set, and they were in the orchestra for their high school's production of the musical. On the inside, this building is beyond opulent. Not so grand as Versailles. More like a decorative explosion of some kind. Over the top is a term that might describe it best. I tried to imagine this clearing a writer's head; it would certainly provide a visual distraction.
Yes, this is a Chagall painting on the ceiling.
We grabbed some baguette sandwiches at a patisserie, and jumped on the Metro to head to...a mall! Maria is a fashion hound, and she was determined to bring back some Paris fashions. I'd set aside a couple of hours today for her to hit the shops, but I was surprised to find out that many, many Paris shops are closed on Sundays. I did some research and found a place just outside the city limits. It would have been much more fun to hit a city shopping street, but that was out. She bought herself some clothes and we came back to Rue Cler for our final Paris dinner.
European Adventure 2011 is nearly over. We're packing up tonight and heading to the airport in the morning. We've had a good trip: fun and productive.
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Saturday, July 16, 2011
Versailles and Hemingway
Today we went to Versailles, the stunning palace of Louis XIV. The place is dipped in gold leaf and covered in brocade and velvet, sparkling with glass chandeliers, and packed full of paintings. The palace was crowded, but we had audio guides, and that really helped me to forget the hoards and focus on the finery. I'd been here when I was 17, and I remembered a few things--the gardens in particular. I'd had my picture taken back then in the lap of a Greek god (a statue lounging on a fountain's edge), and I have a clear memory of that. I wanted to take Maria's picture there, but the statues were roped off. Here are some photos of our visit.
I was limping towards the Trianon by the end of our visit. The place is enormous, and I just couldn't walk it all. We'll certainly bring students here next year, but we'll load them on the cheap busses so they don't start a revolution and execute us.
After a nice dinner, we headed for the Latin Quarter to find some Hemingway haunts. We wandered through Shakespeare and Company Books, a reproduction of Sylvia Beach's bookstore frequented by Hemingway and other expats in the 20s. I took some photos and bought a copy of The Sun Also Rises. It was pouring, but we walked to Jardins du Luxembourg, the big park where Hemingway walked frequently on his way to Gertrude Stein's house at 27 rue de Fleurus. This was a thrill for me, but I felt bad dragging our group out on a rainy night. They were real troopers.
I'm tired as a dog and ready for bed. I haven't written about our first day in Paris yet...maybe tomorrow.
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I was limping towards the Trianon by the end of our visit. The place is enormous, and I just couldn't walk it all. We'll certainly bring students here next year, but we'll load them on the cheap busses so they don't start a revolution and execute us.
After a nice dinner, we headed for the Latin Quarter to find some Hemingway haunts. We wandered through Shakespeare and Company Books, a reproduction of Sylvia Beach's bookstore frequented by Hemingway and other expats in the 20s. I took some photos and bought a copy of The Sun Also Rises. It was pouring, but we walked to Jardins du Luxembourg, the big park where Hemingway walked frequently on his way to Gertrude Stein's house at 27 rue de Fleurus. This was a thrill for me, but I felt bad dragging our group out on a rainy night. They were real troopers.
I'm tired as a dog and ready for bed. I haven't written about our first day in Paris yet...maybe tomorrow.
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Friday, July 15, 2011
Photos
A walk in Princes Street Gsrden.
The Scottish national flower: the thistle.
Edinburgh castle with some admiring tourists.
St. Giles Church, Edinburgh.
On the Royal Mile.
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The Scottish national flower: the thistle.
Edinburgh castle with some admiring tourists.
St. Giles Church, Edinburgh.
On the Royal Mile.
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Photos: Better Late than Never
A few random photos from the trip.
First day in Scotland:
Andy on the Old Course, St. Andrews, Scotlamd.
Green, green gass om the Old Course.
Me...on West Sands Beach, St. Andrews.
This street gave us a good chuckle.
Maria hams it up at St. Amdrews University.
St. Andrews Cathedral
St. Andrews Cathedral..
John, Maria, and Andy in Edinburgh
Creepy castle in the moonlight. Edinburgh.
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First day in Scotland:
Andy on the Old Course, St. Andrews, Scotlamd.
Green, green gass om the Old Course.
Me...on West Sands Beach, St. Andrews.
This street gave us a good chuckle.
Maria hams it up at St. Amdrews University.
St. Andrews Cathedral
St. Andrews Cathedral..
John, Maria, and Andy in Edinburgh
Creepy castle in the moonlight. Edinburgh.
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Paris is Wonderful
Paris is such a gorgeous city. I was in Prague in 2006 and 2007 with my friend and study abroad partner, Lee, and I remember saying to him several times that Prague was prettier than Paris. He was in love with Paris, and he insisted that I was wrong. May I say now: Lee was right. It's been a long time since I've been here, so I must have forgotten what a majestic city this is.
Today, we walked from the Arch de Triomphe, through the Tullieries, all the way to the Louvre, and it was spectacular. Then we spent a couple of hours in the Louvre, were we saw Rembrandts and Botticellis and Michelangelos. After dinner tonight, we walked over to the Eiffel Tower, my first glimpse of it at night, all light up and sparkling like fireworks.
We're staying on charming Rue Cler in the 7th arrondissement, right near the Eiffel Tower. There are window boxes everywhere, fruit vendors and flower stalls, cares, and tons of wild people partying loudly. I hear the Americans, shouting above the rest. We really are loud, aren't we?
Well, time for some earplugs and a sleeping pill. Goodnight.
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Today, we walked from the Arch de Triomphe, through the Tullieries, all the way to the Louvre, and it was spectacular. Then we spent a couple of hours in the Louvre, were we saw Rembrandts and Botticellis and Michelangelos. After dinner tonight, we walked over to the Eiffel Tower, my first glimpse of it at night, all light up and sparkling like fireworks.
We're staying on charming Rue Cler in the 7th arrondissement, right near the Eiffel Tower. There are window boxes everywhere, fruit vendors and flower stalls, cares, and tons of wild people partying loudly. I hear the Americans, shouting above the rest. We really are loud, aren't we?
Well, time for some earplugs and a sleeping pill. Goodnight.
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