Christmas

This year we decided to find a central place for Christmas, a place as close to equidistant from each of us as we could get.  After a good deal of drawing overlapping circles, we settled on a house in southwestern Pennsylvania.  It was located on a river, at the edge of several park areas, near lots of good hiking and, most important, big enough for all 9 adults and 3 children.

Best of all, it came with a moose head on the dining room wall.  That thing was so big I had a hard time  believing it was real.  But it got very friendly when we decorated the antlers with all the 12 Christmas stockings.  [I would insert a picture here but I'm having my usual computer issues.]

There was a Christmas tree, too, all decorated and ready.  The kids added homemade ornaments thanks to Nate's bringing lots of pipe cleaners, construction paper, beads, scissors, etc.  There were also paper chains (one of my personal favorites form my own days of making ornaments) courtesy of Aunt Becca.  The three littlest kids developed an activity they called "reading the presents" which involved checking the to and from and then arranging and rearranging them in different groups.  Lots of planning by those three went into Christmas morning.

Other days included walks, snowboarding for Nate, and ongoing and rotating games.  Some of the old faves like checkers, new ones like Forbidden Island and Catan Junior, and, of course, for this group, hand and foot.  Hand and foot is a card game that involves five or six decks of cards and lots and lots of shuffling.  It has just enough luck and just enough strategy and just enough table talk to keep the game going on at intervals through the whole vacation, with much high fiving by various parties at various times.

As Nate's father, Ron, put it so accurately, "This is the best Christmas ever, until the next one."

Ouch, Mr. Wright

Most of you are very aware of how much I admire Frank Lloyd Wright and his work.  I've planned part of my earlier trips around tours and stays at his work.  When I realized that the Christmas house was a short drive from Falling Waters, I put my bid in right away for a family trip there.  My own enchantment with Wright goest back to the original Mike Wallace interview in 1957.  I watched it then and wanted nothing more than to have this man design a home for me someday.  He wasn't able to do that so I continue to move about the country visiting as many of the homes he did have time enough to design as possible.

Falling Waters is special to my family not only because it is amazing and beautiful, but because we visited it together many years ago when we were all together driving back home from Interlochen Arts Camp.  It makes the kind of impression that none of us have forgotten, so pretty much everyone was there on our first full day after our arrival.  Falling Waters did not disappoint and we were happy to be able to share it with two of the grandkids (Fiona was taking a nap at the house).  Luke liked the explanation that Wright wanted to focus on the sound of the waterfall but kept a special enjoyment for the places where you could see the river or the falls.  Annie, too, liked the idea of having a house with the outside so very much inside.

What I had forgotten was that there are a lot of stone steps throughout Falling Waters and somewhere in there I must have taken a wrong step.  When I got back to our house, I realized that my left foot was not exactly comfortable.  I expected improvement by next morning but it kept getting more painful and I was unable to keep from remembering when I broke a bone in that foot and how similar it felt.  After a firm talking to from the rest of the family,  I agreed to a drive to a nearby town for an x-ray.  The good news is that nothing was broken.  The bad news was that it was days after Christmas before I could finally get a shoe on and go for a walk along the river that ran right in front of the house.  At least it means that there will be a lot left for me to explore if we do this again next Christmas.

Over the River

Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go.  But this time it was Gran doing the over the river and through the woods bit.  I had been on the road ever since purchasing a dozen or so bagels in Amagansett that morning.  It was the 21st, the shortest day of the year, and I was headed for southwest Pennsylvania and the house where the whole family was rendezvousing for Christmas.  The weather had been pretty close to perfect but now it was getting dark, snow was thinking about falling and it was time to leave the Turnpike.

Rural roads are very dark.  They are also twisty, with lots of turns and ups and downs.  Now the snow had decided to be rain and at times it was one of those rains that just slashes down.  When the rain let up for a while, it was fog that looked like a wall in front of the car.  Take your choice.  It was probably good that I couldn't see much beyond the edge of the road because I really didn't want to know.  If I had been able to see enough to find a place to turn off, I would have let the line of cars behind me go past.  They undoubtedly knew the area much better than I did and I would have been happy to have had someone to follow.  As it was, I mentally apologized to all of them and waited for them to find their homes or the turnoff at the next crossroads.

About 7:30, the GPS told me I was close and I made the last turn.  The house was alight.  There were five cars in the driveway.  I was the last one there.  I made my way up to the porch and opened the door.  A 2 and a half year old started jumping up and down and announcing to the whole gang, "Gran's here.  Gran's here."  The everyone hugs started.  I was home.

Baby, It's Cold Inside

Back home to Amagansett.  All set to get organized and wrap presents.  Just one problem.  There's no heat on the lower level of the house.  The level that just happens to contain my bedroom.  After some poking and prodding and convincing myself that this was something I couldn't deal with, I called my propane supplier, who also does repairs.  We carefully discussed that I had checked the level of fuel just before I left on my trip and my conservative estimate of the reading was 80%.  The agent agreed that there was no way this would be a fuel problem so I needed a repair visit.  I was told that the repair person would call me to tell me when he would be arriving.  This was classified as an emergency call, by the way.

Four hours later, having received no call, I called the provider back.  They were very courteous and very sorry, but there was no way they could give me any estimate of when repair would arrive.  I tried every form of the question I could come up with.  Where was the repair person at this point?  Was I the next call or were there others in the queue?  Could they contact the repair person and get an answer to any of these questions?  No to everything.

Sometime after midnight, the truck arrived.  Just one problem.  It was a fuel truck, not a repair truck.  The driver confirmed that I had more than enough fuel and that I did not need a delivery.  He said he had no idea why they had sent a fuel truck instead of a repair truck.  Obligingly, he took a look at the heating unit and confirmed that it was the problem.  He said he thought it could be fixed easily but, of course, he had no tools.

My next step was to get back on the phone.  The emergency office was very concerned to know how the mistake had been made.  I realized they would need to know this at some point but somehow I was much more interested in when I could get heat.  They said they could correct the information and put in a call for a repair truck but once again they could not give me any estimate of when he might arrive or what else he might have on his agenda.  Based on past performance, I had very little hope of resolving this before the dawn so I asked that they schedule it for tomorrow.  Sorry, but they couldn't do that.  I would have to call back next morning before 8:00 am.  I decided to call it a day and set my alarm.  I piled on every blanket I could find on the couch upstairs, where the never very satisfactory electric heating helped a bit, and settled in.

Next morning I placed the call and a repair unit did arrive.  The blockage was cleared and once again I had an operational furnace.  I basked in the heat and took a nap to make up for the night before.  Heat is a wonderful thing.

Beacon, New York

Next stop Beacon, NY.  Kit was in a sale event with a number of other excellent crafters.  It was one very long day and I signed on to keep an eye on Fiona while Mom went to work.  The show/sale was great.  I loved the tables and boards made by the woodworker whose workshop was the site for the show.  She really respects the material she is working with.  Quite a bit of it was made of black walnut.   Finally I couldn't resist what she calls a baguette board, a cutting board long enough to fit a proper baguette.  I told her about the black walnut trees I had had on the farm and she understood immediately.  "You miss your trees," she said.  Right on.

It was good to see Kit and Nate and Fiona and hang out with them.  We fitted in some stocking stuffer shopping and some good food at a special restaurant that is situated next to a waterfall.  A partially frozen waterfall after a snowfall is a lovely and constantly changing sight.

Chicago and Thanksgiving

After New York City, it was on to Chicago where Team Daugherty were hosting Thanksgiving and Hanukkah.  It began with the 67th Latke - Hamantaschen Debate at the University of Chicago.  The moderator has been handling this debate for so long that nobody can remember when he wasn't in charge.  The rules are that the debaters must have a doctorate and one of the three must be non-Jewish.  They all, debaters and moderator, appeared to the strains of Pomp and Circumstance and wearing full academic regalia.  Of course, it was the wrong academic robes for these particular people, but, hey, who'd notice that at the University of Chicago.  One debater discussed the issue in Star Wars terms and concluded that the hamantaschen was suspect because it was the same shape as part of Darth Vader's mask.  My favorite was the Professor of Medieval History who presented a tale of the battle of these forces in the style of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings with more in-jokes than anyone could count.

Thanksgiving was wonderful, vegetarian and omnivore alike.  Family, food, wine (imported from an earlier expedition to Canada, of all places) with lots of time to talk and enjoy each other.

I stayed for some extra days to have a "sleepover" with Luke and Annie, when both Elly and Steve had to be out of town on business.  I also came in handy, when first Annie and then Luke came down with colds and needed to be out of school for a few days.  It was fun as we shared Harry Potter readings, new games and breakfast at the Med.  I also got to see Annie's horseback riding lesson and Luke's skating lesson.  It's good to catch up with them and get back into the Gran persona.

Onward, or actually backward, to Michigan and my Christmas present from Judy.  A dinner at our favorite restaurant, a traditional English holiday dinner with more courses than I could keep track of, including roast goose.  I cooked goose once for Christmas about a gazillion years ago.  That was nothing special.  This on the other hand was delicious.  Now I see why it was the traditional main course in Dickens' day.

A New Diva

My first stop was New York City.  My thought when I headed back from the last road trip was that I would stay in Amagansett and be able to go into the City for theatre and concerts.  Well, not so much.  That trip is longer than I thought.  In fact, that's my one real disappointment with living on the East End.  New York City is too far away for frequent trips and I miss being able to get in for a bunch of different things.

This time, however, I was on my way to the Midwest so I could talk myself into stopping overnight in the City.  Found a very pleasant hotel and enjoyed a leisurely dinner.  The next day it was Lincoln Center and the Metropolitan Opera.  You see, there's this eight year old little lady who was making her first scheduled appearance on the stage of the Met (she'd already been on once subbing for another kid who couldn't make a performance in Midsummer Night's Dream).  She is a member of the children's chorus and the opera was Frau Ohne Schatten.  I was completely unfamiliar with the opera and was really astounded not only by the music, but by the amazing staging that was like painting with light and color.  Truly amazing.  I know the Met is all about music, but the stagecraft here was wonderful.  I wanted to buy tickets for everything else they were doing because of that experience.

The most fun and interesting though was sitting with the young diva during the third act and hearing her tell me about being in the chorus, learning the music, switching from language to language with each opera, as well as what she had been doing in school.  Sofia is a delightful person and I admire her so much; for her talent, of course, but also for her hard work and most of all for being her own strong self.  I hope this is the beginning of many dreams come true for her.  I will always delight in being the first one to bring her flowers after a Met performance.

Starting Again

Now that the Amagansett house is taking shape (new deck, wood floors and butcher block counters sanded, garage door opener that actually works, replace worn siding and one window [it has been about 30 years after all), I was beginning to make plans for more travel and adventures.  I just hadn't expected it to start with a mini disaster here and there.

First I crashed my iPhone.  When you don't know an app from an OS, that's easy to do.  That, of course, happened just before I was set to leave for the Midwest for Thanksgiving. I wasn't keen on driving without a phone available for calls and for information.  I know, I know.  Once upon a time we stopped and used pay phones.  The problem with that is that pay phones hardly exist anymore.  At least ones in working order.  Besides I'm an iPhone and Google convert and no longer like being separated from my devices.

So, in an attempt to be efficient, I made an appointment with the Genius Bar that was not too far out of my way as I left Long Island.  Watching my time carefully, I drove up about 15 minutes before the appointment and was met in the parking lot by an Apple employee explaining that all their systems were down.  Apple store systems not operating?  What is happening to the universe?  Not to worry, he said.  All the appointments had been transferred to the Roosevelt Mall store.  Back in the car for a 20 minute drive to a store that looked like the last shopping day before Christmas.  I've seen crowded stores but this one was seriously crowded and mostly by aggravated Long Islanders who didn't like having to change the location for their appointment (one lady, unfortunately ahead of me, had to describe what she termed an hour drive -- somewhat difficult to comprehend when her original appointment, like mine, could not have been more than 20 minutes away at slow speed).

The customers were not doing anything good for the New York or Long Island image.  The Apple folks, on the other hand, were acting like real New Yorkers.  They were coping.  They listened patiently (how they did that part I will never know) and kept the lists and found the next available Genius.  The punch line?  My iPhone was functioning and had my contacts back within half an hour.

Onward to my first stop -- but more on that later.