Today Fiona and Kit and I went to Preschool at the Farm, an activity for preschoolers at Common Ground Farm, the CSA that Kit and Nate belong to. It was all about the summer solstice, making crowns from grape vines and flowers and checking out the cows (I was amazed to find that I still recognized Jerseys and Herefords and knew which was which).
This was followed by a picnic which included strawberries from the strawberry patch and sugar snap pea pods picked by Fiona and two new friends for me, Maureen and her daughter, Tally, who is definitely in the running for cutest kid. When they left so Tally could check out the sheep in the barn (you should have seen her face when the barn door opened signaling her chance to go visit her friends), Kit and I and Fiona continued munching and talking. A few early swallows were swooping by. Kit spotted a groundhog thinking about a raid on the CSA vegetables. And then, wonder of wonders, a fawn appeared right next to us. It stopped completely still. I'm sure it's mother had told it that the first line of defense is to stay still and hope nobody notices you. We looked at each other for a few seconds. Then in three bounds it was out of the clearing and into the trees. Such a beautiful creature. I have never been that close to a fawn before. I don't think I have ever seen anything so lovely. What a moment to share. It's one for my collection of moments.
This may not be my farm but I am so happy to know that Fiona has her own farm and her own adventures.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Back East
After about six months of traveling and exploring, I am back in Beacon, NY at Kit's house. This portion of the adventure pretty much began about January 6th when we wrapped up the holidays and I headed out for visits and explorations. Now I'm back hanging out with Kit and Nate and Fiona, waiting for the work on the Amagansett house to be done. At the moment, we're trying to make a decision on color for the new deck and color and shape of railings for the deck. There really aren't many options to choose from so you'd think I could do this, but I seem to be able to agonize about anything. I'm kind of hoping this goes as quickly as the builder says it will so I can actually unpack my car and stop carrying my world around with me. Progress reports will follow.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
They're Everywhere
While visiting in Michigan, my friend Judy, and the dog she is currently fostering, showed me that there are great places to walk everywhere. The West Bloomfield trail follows a former railroad track and extends over about seven miles. Houses back onto it and many of the owners have left openings in their back yards so they can access the trail, making it quite a communal asset. It seems to be quite popular for dog walkers and cyclists as well. I only did about two miles of it but it was great to find this opening up at the end of an ordinary street and find some good old Michigan wild flowers.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Hyde Park and its Art Fair
Hyde Park, Chicago is a wonderful neighborhood. For one thing, it contains two of my grandchildren, one of my daughters and her husband, and a group of amazing and diverse people, including President Obama and his family. It also has the Lab School, the Oriental Institute, one of my all time favorite bookstores, a farmers market just beyond the Midway Plaisance, several restaurants that I feel absolutely must be visited each time I'm in town (you know who you are), Rockefeller Chapel with one of the best pastors in the world and, of course, UC and its quad.
Once a year it also has an art fair. My daughter and I took off into the booths of the fair, while Steve took the kids to the playground that is literally in the middle of the fair (nice planning, Art Fair). Of course, we both found works we couldn't live without. Amazing photos that we all liked for different reasons. Clothing, hand made and hand dyed, perfect for small granddaughters.
For me the emphasis seemed to be on wood as a material. I found fountain pens (when was the last time I wrote with an actual fountain pen? tomorrow?) made of various woods, one of which reminded me of talks with my father about different woods and their characteristics and his favorites. Then I came across the lady from Arizona with the wooden cooking spoons and other kitchen and dining implements and accessories. In some cases, when the wood she was using for a cutting board or lazy Susan had a crack in it, she had filled the crack with tiny bits of turquoise or malachite. Eye catching and attention catching. I had to ask her how she did that and tell her how much I admired the color and its effect. Somehow that led on and on as we discussed Arizona and my recent trip there and to New Mexico. We found that we were pretty close in age. That both of us wanted to rent rather than buy property because we didn't want to be tied down because how could you move around and explore whatever caught your fancy if you were tied down (Good lord, there is someone else like me!). We talked about what we knew we wanted in the place we might find and settle down in. I was intrigued that her primary requirement was a political attitude that was congenial to her. When I mentioned how much I had liked Savannah, she reminded me not about the heat and humidity in the summer, but about the fact that Newt Gingrich was from Georgia. The conversation wandered all over the place, in every sense of the words. My patient daughter went off to visit a nearby booth and came back. We were still in animated conversation. Finally, I was reminded that we really should go and rescue Steve from playground duty and we did.
Thinking back on the day, I realized that the pleasant conversation with the lady with the wooden kitchen items had netted me not only some presents and some additions to my own kitchen but a memory and an insight. In our family, Bill was always the gregarious one with the gift of gab. He could and did talk with anyone and everyone about anything and everything. I liked this characteristic because it was something I was not good at and it meant that he was naturally cast as what I called "Secretary of State" for the family. But it was not always one my favorite things about Bill. I used to remind him on quite a few occasions that I did not see the need for all these conversations. Somehow he could never see the need for that comment.
The clearest thing, though, was that this was something he did and something I most certainly did not do. But wasn't what I had done today, just what he would have done? His conversation would have been a different one, I'm sure, but the chat, the laughter, the fact that there was always just one more thing to say, one more point to make -- that would be Bill to the life. Where was my "I don't know what to say", my reluctance to talk to "a perfect stranger", the idea that I should keep it to what needs to be said to accomplish a mission like buying some cool stuff? Frankly, I have no idea. I don't think I've changed fundamentally, but something has been going on for me. Perhaps a little more openness and a little more willingness to risk a little embarrassment. What does that matter anyway? Personally I think that the curiosity that has always been there is now poking it's head up more and asking some questions and demanding some answers from me and from the world, whoever that may be.
Once a year it also has an art fair. My daughter and I took off into the booths of the fair, while Steve took the kids to the playground that is literally in the middle of the fair (nice planning, Art Fair). Of course, we both found works we couldn't live without. Amazing photos that we all liked for different reasons. Clothing, hand made and hand dyed, perfect for small granddaughters.
For me the emphasis seemed to be on wood as a material. I found fountain pens (when was the last time I wrote with an actual fountain pen? tomorrow?) made of various woods, one of which reminded me of talks with my father about different woods and their characteristics and his favorites. Then I came across the lady from Arizona with the wooden cooking spoons and other kitchen and dining implements and accessories. In some cases, when the wood she was using for a cutting board or lazy Susan had a crack in it, she had filled the crack with tiny bits of turquoise or malachite. Eye catching and attention catching. I had to ask her how she did that and tell her how much I admired the color and its effect. Somehow that led on and on as we discussed Arizona and my recent trip there and to New Mexico. We found that we were pretty close in age. That both of us wanted to rent rather than buy property because we didn't want to be tied down because how could you move around and explore whatever caught your fancy if you were tied down (Good lord, there is someone else like me!). We talked about what we knew we wanted in the place we might find and settle down in. I was intrigued that her primary requirement was a political attitude that was congenial to her. When I mentioned how much I had liked Savannah, she reminded me not about the heat and humidity in the summer, but about the fact that Newt Gingrich was from Georgia. The conversation wandered all over the place, in every sense of the words. My patient daughter went off to visit a nearby booth and came back. We were still in animated conversation. Finally, I was reminded that we really should go and rescue Steve from playground duty and we did.
Thinking back on the day, I realized that the pleasant conversation with the lady with the wooden kitchen items had netted me not only some presents and some additions to my own kitchen but a memory and an insight. In our family, Bill was always the gregarious one with the gift of gab. He could and did talk with anyone and everyone about anything and everything. I liked this characteristic because it was something I was not good at and it meant that he was naturally cast as what I called "Secretary of State" for the family. But it was not always one my favorite things about Bill. I used to remind him on quite a few occasions that I did not see the need for all these conversations. Somehow he could never see the need for that comment.
The clearest thing, though, was that this was something he did and something I most certainly did not do. But wasn't what I had done today, just what he would have done? His conversation would have been a different one, I'm sure, but the chat, the laughter, the fact that there was always just one more thing to say, one more point to make -- that would be Bill to the life. Where was my "I don't know what to say", my reluctance to talk to "a perfect stranger", the idea that I should keep it to what needs to be said to accomplish a mission like buying some cool stuff? Frankly, I have no idea. I don't think I've changed fundamentally, but something has been going on for me. Perhaps a little more openness and a little more willingness to risk a little embarrassment. What does that matter anyway? Personally I think that the curiosity that has always been there is now poking it's head up more and asking some questions and demanding some answers from me and from the world, whoever that may be.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Chicago Again
After a second tour at Taliesin, I headed south to Chicago. Should have been just a few hours and it was going well. Then I hit the I-90 expressway headed for the south side and Hyde Park and Elly's house. Oops. Solid traffic. And then it was stopped, just completely at a standstill. For someone who's been in the mountains and then the prairies and then the lovely, green backroads of Wisconsin, this came as a startling reminder of urban traffic. Eventually my urban self kicked back in and I remembered there were surface streets and it should now for sure be well past any rush hour. Sure. Well, maybe not so much. Traffic was at least moving but those stop lights sure slowed things down. And then the storm hit. Pouring rain and absolute sheets of lightening. Thanks for the light show but really, folks, you didn't have to go to all this trouble for my arrival.
Welcome to Chicago.
Welcome to Chicago.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Taliesin I
In a somewhat characteristic fashion, I seem to have gone about my Frank Lloyd Wright tour in more or less reverse order. After a couple of Wright stops on the way out to the SouthWest, the major stop was Taliesin West, which, of course, is in the latter part of his career. It is fascinating to see how the architecture and nature, the landscape and the plants and the light, all became interwoven and built on each other. It was a new direction in many ways. It was also a point at which Wright had pretty much become what he always said he was -- the best architect in the United States.
So, on my return swing, I went back toward the beginning and visited Taliesin in Wisconsin. One of the intriguing things about the house here is that he was constantly changing and building it over differently. Not just after the two disastrous fires or because there were repairs that needed to be done. Photographs for a magazine article or a special visitor were enough reason. And I don't mean redecorating. No, it meant changing walls and windows and floors. Making a terrace into part of a room. Changing stables into apartments. It gives new meaning to the term "work in progress". Not always the most practical (Wright houses seem to have a tendency to leak) but always open, always beautiful, always integrating the world outside and the world inside.
The real beginning for Wright was Chicago and Oak Park. Taliesin came later. It was a dream, a life. About refuge and work and disaster and keeping on and changing, over and over and over. I can't get enough of the spirit and the beauty. After watching the Mike Wallace interview with Wright, my goal was to have Wright design a house for me. I never quite accomplished that, but I am grateful for the many ways he influenced places I have lived.
So, on my return swing, I went back toward the beginning and visited Taliesin in Wisconsin. One of the intriguing things about the house here is that he was constantly changing and building it over differently. Not just after the two disastrous fires or because there were repairs that needed to be done. Photographs for a magazine article or a special visitor were enough reason. And I don't mean redecorating. No, it meant changing walls and windows and floors. Making a terrace into part of a room. Changing stables into apartments. It gives new meaning to the term "work in progress". Not always the most practical (Wright houses seem to have a tendency to leak) but always open, always beautiful, always integrating the world outside and the world inside.
The real beginning for Wright was Chicago and Oak Park. Taliesin came later. It was a dream, a life. About refuge and work and disaster and keeping on and changing, over and over and over. I can't get enough of the spirit and the beauty. After watching the Mike Wallace interview with Wright, my goal was to have Wright design a house for me. I never quite accomplished that, but I am grateful for the many ways he influenced places I have lived.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Tall Grass Prairie
Having worked it out so that I didn't have far to drive today, I was able to go back to the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve and take one of the tours given by the Rangers. Listening to Rangers is always fun. Each one has his or her own stories to tell about the Park he works in. And every time you listen, you come away with more knowledge about some thing or some area of study that wasn't on your horizon at all before that.
I'd walked one of the trails the day before, but this time we used an old blue school bus covered by a painting of the hills and wildflowers in the prairie area, so we covered a lot more ground. I learned again that Rangers not only know their area, they also have sharp eyes. So I added a meadowlark and a western bluebird to my life list. (Forgot to mention that I added a roadrunner while I was in Arizona and yes it was running across the road.) Also I now know what a wild indigo flower looks like. What flint looks like and how to spot the scooped out evidence that someone or some weather force chipped away at the flint either to make a tool or as a means of chipping away and shaping another piece. Most interesting was learning how the various flowers and grasses space themselves seasonally, how they use different means, e.g., different types of root systems, to get what each species needs without competing with the other types of plants. How fire beneficially regulates the growth patterns of plants and the grazing patterns of animals. How important grasses are to the overall ecology of the planet. And how sometimes nature gives us a chance to undo our mistakes. The work that is going on to preserve the ecology of the prairie is one of those chances. Once the prairie in the US and Canada covered literally millions of acres. Today less that 4% of that is still grassland. But a combination of groups from the Park Service to the Nature Conservancy to rich Texans who send their cattle to graze there are holding the line.
The best story had to do with the buffalo herd that is living and growing on this prairie. At the beginning of the 1800s, buffalo herds were everywhere and the numbers were so great that it seemed unthinkable that they could ever be threatened by extinction. But by the days of Theodore Roosevelt the buffalo were down to no more than 1,000. They were functionally extinct. It was only a matter of time. Then TR and one of his NY friends decided to get involved. They collected a small herd of buffalo and took them back to NY where they could be protected. The descendants of that herd are still around and some of them are now living at the preserve here at Strong City, Kansas. In fact, they are thriving and the numbers are multiplying. They are no longer facing extinction. It will take a long time but we have been given a second chance to give these animals a second chance. Sometimes we learn, don't we?
I'd walked one of the trails the day before, but this time we used an old blue school bus covered by a painting of the hills and wildflowers in the prairie area, so we covered a lot more ground. I learned again that Rangers not only know their area, they also have sharp eyes. So I added a meadowlark and a western bluebird to my life list. (Forgot to mention that I added a roadrunner while I was in Arizona and yes it was running across the road.) Also I now know what a wild indigo flower looks like. What flint looks like and how to spot the scooped out evidence that someone or some weather force chipped away at the flint either to make a tool or as a means of chipping away and shaping another piece. Most interesting was learning how the various flowers and grasses space themselves seasonally, how they use different means, e.g., different types of root systems, to get what each species needs without competing with the other types of plants. How fire beneficially regulates the growth patterns of plants and the grazing patterns of animals. How important grasses are to the overall ecology of the planet. And how sometimes nature gives us a chance to undo our mistakes. The work that is going on to preserve the ecology of the prairie is one of those chances. Once the prairie in the US and Canada covered literally millions of acres. Today less that 4% of that is still grassland. But a combination of groups from the Park Service to the Nature Conservancy to rich Texans who send their cattle to graze there are holding the line.
The best story had to do with the buffalo herd that is living and growing on this prairie. At the beginning of the 1800s, buffalo herds were everywhere and the numbers were so great that it seemed unthinkable that they could ever be threatened by extinction. But by the days of Theodore Roosevelt the buffalo were down to no more than 1,000. They were functionally extinct. It was only a matter of time. Then TR and one of his NY friends decided to get involved. They collected a small herd of buffalo and took them back to NY where they could be protected. The descendants of that herd are still around and some of them are now living at the preserve here at Strong City, Kansas. In fact, they are thriving and the numbers are multiplying. They are no longer facing extinction. It will take a long time but we have been given a second chance to give these animals a second chance. Sometimes we learn, don't we?
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