giant leap
We have counters!
They're unfinished and dusty,
but they're level. All the wherefores and why-hows to come, I promise. Oh, but we're getting there.
We have counters!
They're unfinished and dusty,
but they're level. All the wherefores and why-hows to come, I promise. Oh, but we're getting there.
This is how it was, for a little while at least. Nice, huh? And for the record, I know I disappeared for a week, but can I just say I've decided that September is absolutely B.R.U.T.A.L on my family. This whole re-entry thing is a bear. We're so tired. We've had meltdowns. I missed a publication deadline Friday for computer glitches that I just don't understand. And this on a day that our Athletic Director came into my office (His office is next door to mine.) and said, "Hey, don't use the bathroom in this building, okay? And that water out on the sidewalk? Don't walk in it. It's not water." Last I'd heard, we're still not up and running. Yeah, I am SO looking forward to work today.
Back to my kitchen. Two-thirds of the counters are in and almost done. They need some buffing and sealing and a little more work to match the sink, but oh, I love them. We got to see the final third poured and it was amazing. I'll do a whole post on that, really soon, I promise. And isn't the faucet pretty? Except the sink is leaking now. So what you're looking at doesn't exist at present. We're back to washing dishes in the bathroom.
John, the guy we ordered our cabinets from, finally came to install our shelves. It feels like it's been forever, but they're in now. We came home on Saturday from a sand castle contest to find John and Tyler having a drink with my friend Cathy who'd dropped her daughter off next door for a slumber party. They'd never met but were having a high old time slugging whiskey (not mine) from a bottle. This is what I love about Cathy. She's very adaptable. And here I'd been worried that she'd be gone by the time we got home!
I wasn't sure about the shelves at first, but we painted today, and I'm feeling a lot better. Callum asked what else was left to do, and as we thought about it, it seems like a lot of little stuff.
There's the backsplash, of course, and the hood needs to shift a bit to the right, and the wood around these windows was never painted. I got on that today. I think it's going to take about a zillion coats. One tiny baby step at a time.
Oh, I know we're going to love it. And really, I already do. But when there are meltdowns every night and there's no place to do homework and we're still two weeks away from even starting the hallway and back to doing dishes in the sink, it's hard not to get discouraged. Look at this mess. Wouldn't you get discouraged too?
This little one somehow did a number on herself yesterday. Tore one of her nails out nearly to the quick, requiring some minor surgery to repair the wound. Of course I was gone at the crack of dawn to an all-day conference, and Neel had to cope with the back-and-forthing. But seriously look at that. Can you imagine anything more pathetic?
Even with a purple smiley-face-flower bandage, I didn't think so.
My week has suddenly gotten very complicated (How is it that every single rental car agency in the area is SOLD OUT? Seriously.), so of course all I can think about are the pools at the Thermal Hotel Visegrad.
On our first day there, Neel had to work on his talk, but Callum and I put on the fluffy robes that were left in our room and headed down to the spas where the pools were located. There were five pools in all, if you count the giant indoor/outdoor pool as one.
The Danube is bordered by thermal springs, and one of these springs feed the pools at the Thermal Hotel. The air was chilly that first afternoon, and I told Callum that if it was too cold in the water, I wouldn't swim too long. Duh. Thermal spas.
The water temperature was a perfect 80-85 degrees (although the air was cool enough on that first day that I wanted to keep my shoulders submerged!), and one of the smaller indoor pools was warmed to 95 degrees. It was heaven.
The pools were made entirely of 1 X 1 mosaic tiles in graduating shades of blue and had carefully located benches and crafty alcoves throughout. At random times fountains or jacuzzis would bubble up, creating fun currents and soothing muscles.
After several times of thinking, "It smells so good," I realized that these fountains were lightly scented, and that whenever they went off they released both a torrent of cool water onto the shoulders and delicate scent into the air.
The outdoor pool connected to the indoors through a passageway with a flap. The blue tiles were darker here, but just as many benches, alcoves and fountains...both overhead and bubbling up from underwater.
Also indoors were two still pools (this one at 95 degrees) and the Aquamarine Bar!
This was clearly a place to come and take the waters. Callum and I were often the only English speakers which, I think, added to our relaxation, and there were several people on crutches and many, many elderly men and women. It was not unusual to see two elderly men sitting on one of the underwater benches and talking, as the water bubbled around them, for hours. Also not unusual were the European swimming costumes! Callum asked me at one point, "Momma, why do the men's swimsuits have so little cloth?" Good question, son.
We soon learned that the fountains went on and off in a specific pattern, and this area, which we called the current, was our favorite. The current blew water in that roundabout, creating a... you guessed it, current of water to swim in. All of the thrill of being swept away, with none of the danger. Speeds got quite impressive, if you stayed to the outside wall. Callum and I kept racing, and if you weren't careful, you'd either take over or get taken over by the people around you. As I said before, we were often the only English speakers, but regardless of the language, our experience was common in this roundabout. Giggles and shrieks of delight and sighs of bitter disappointment when it was over.
On our last morning, while Neel was still in talks, Callum and I went down to the pools quite early. The cycle of fountains hadn't been turned on yet, but when Callum and I got into the roundabout, someone must have noticed and turned the current on just for us! Just us two and it seemed to last forever!
This was by far the most exhilarating and luxurious swimming pool I have ever experienced. Some of us, myself included, didn't want it to end.
Our boy turned ten on our trip. Can you believe it? Double digits.
We started with a meaty breakfast and the few presents we brought on the plane.
The we spent the day in the pools. These pools deserve a post of their own, they were so amazing.
For his birthday dinner, we went to a castle (complete with satellite dish). This was the night of the conference gala, where everyone at the conference gathers for a big feast that represents the country we're visiting. We started with drinks at the top of the turret and moved on to the entertainment.
A Renaissance weapons exhibition.
What a perfect thing for a newly-ten year old boy.
There were dancing girls, and bows and arrows, and javelins, and falcons, and hatchets. It was exhilarating.
Torches lit our way down the hill to dinner.
Callum was given robes to wear, and we were given wine to drink and meat to eat (also a delicious soup and the best braised cabbage I've ever tasted).
All of the sudden the entire room went dark as robed men brought this to our table. A musician played the lute while the sparkler fizzled and everyone cheered. On the walk back to the bus that would return us to the hotel, Callum said, "I loved this day."
I haven't decided if European travel is exhausting or exhilarating, and I'm sure that's because it's both. What I do know is that the travel part makes a difference, and I'm totally crushing on Delta right now. Hello, free beer and wine? Three (3) movies? Two hot meals? So even though I'm dragging right now, the getting there and getting back felt totally manageable. And guess what! I'm not a miserable packer. I did a much better job this time. One bag and one carry-on for the three of us (Although I still had this bag, which was one of the best purchases I've made in awhile - it held my camera, a water bottle and Mr. Guidebook, no problem. Callum had his own carry on too. It held his DS, some planes and a few books.) There are still some things I'd change. Neel and I both felt underdressed, and while he took too much, I probably didn't take quite enough. So a little tweak to the ratios and we'll be good to go.
Moonset and sunrise on our first morning in Hungary.
Apparently, I can nap in Hungary but not in America.
Hungarians love swimming. They take advantage of the thermal waters all up and down the Danube, and also build indoor and outdoor pools any chance they get.
The Danube Bend is quite possibly one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. There was no train on our side of the river. but snaking along those hills was a train track, watching its path and the barges make their way downstream was like watching a piece of history.
I may have mentioned this, but Hungarians love their meat. Neel calls this trip the meat parade. Mr. Guidebook says that Hungarians look upon vegetarians "with suspicion," and I believe it! I'm not a vegetarian, but I jumped right in and ate things I never dreamed I'd eat. Heavenly, tender, well flavored hearty sauces. If you're gonna do it, do it well, and they do.
Someone, and it may have been Mr. Guidebook, told me to be sure to "look up." I'm glad I did. The architecture, from Visegrad (our first stop) to Budapest was simply spectacular. Hungary was never on my top ten of places to visit, and now I'm not sure why. We loved it.
The view from our room at the Thermal Hotel Visegrad.
The view from our room at the City Panzio (Hotel) Mathais in Budapest.
Apparently I love having a view. We got pretty lucky in both spots, didn't we? Although I did pay an extra 10 euros for that Budapest view. Totally worth it.
Hungarians still use thatched roofs. These were in a museum, but we saw many average homes along the roadside with their own thatched roof. Apparently they are popular enough that there are laws regulating them now. Like how often you must change the thatch. We saw storks nests in light poles too!
The Hungarian language is nearly incomprehensible to me. Well, to most anyone really. It's most closely related to Finnish of all things, but that's way down the linguistic family tree. They have 20 vowels, the keyboard was tricky to figure out, and their longest word is 24 letters long. When we came back from Greece, I had a smattering of words (Callum had far, far more, and he's retained them. Still, even he got out of Hungary with only "Thank you." Don't ask me to say it.), but I couldn't manage anything linguistic in this land. Most Hungarians speak English, which made getting around quite easy. What you have to wonder is how isolating this must be? And hope, despite the fact that we can't understand a thing, they keep this language of theirs. It's part of them.
Hungarians love soup. I confess, I took a meat break at lunch in Budapest, so we had a cheese plate (The cubes in that top picture are ewe's milk, and that big wedge in the center is butter...fortunately we figured it out before plopping a big chunk in our mouths!) The soup is chilled sour cherry with whipped cream. Nothing else needs to be said.
I read a lot though, finally digging my way through Anna Karenina. Seriously, what took me so long? And how did I go this far without learning what happens to her?
I learned some other things too. We tend to gear these trips around Callum (and therefore how much whining we can handle), so we quite willingly miss a lot: museums, famous sites, things a ten year old may not just lo, in order for everyone to have fun. But there were things I missed on this trip that I wished I hadn't. Hungarian folk art, for example. We stumbled across some at a bookstore on our last day, and I was blown away. I wish I'd had more time to explore it there, but I definitely will explore it more from home.
And I learned that I can always be more adventurous. I did better this time ("Who wants a meaty treat?!"), but Neel is such an easy, relaxed traveler that it's almost too easy to let him take over. I need to get better about that.
And I've decided that I want to move to Europe. Even if it's just for a year. I have Neel working on this, right honey? And Callum said to me on Friday, "Momma, you already have us moved to Europe in your head, don't you?" Ahh, how well he knows me. But what a great experience that would be. I'm aquiver with imagined possibilities.
Apparently if you touch this 200 year old tree on the Margaret Island at Budapest and make a wish, your wish will come true within a year. Of course, I tried to bend the rules and wondered if compound sentences counted. I'll let you know in a year if my wish(s) came true. Following in my Dad's footsteps, Neel tried to get Callum's wish out of him, but he wouldn't budge. But let's think about this. Hungarians love meat, swimming and soup. And so does Callum. I'm betting he wished to go back. I do too.
So we went to Hungary. Neel had a conference, and we felt that Callum just shouldn't miss this opportunity to travel to another country. He's a lucky kid, having now been to Europe three times in his first decade of life.
We decided that the refrain we use when it's time to give our dogs their treats should be Hungary's national anthem. Go meat.
I have so much more to share, and I learned so much (not least of which is that we should have stayed another day), but I'll get to all of that. Once I rest up, do some (!) laundry and slog through the 600 photos I took. Go Hungary, but good to be home.
I always take too much stuff and worry that I won't have enough to knit or read. All this to say we're sneaking away for a bit (Was I smoking crack to think I could pull this off in the first week of school?)...think of us while we're gone.
So of course we went to Monticello.
Callum read a biography of Jefferson earlier this summer, and of course we couldn't leave D.C. without seeing the Jefferson Memorial. I love the Jefferson Memorial, but I might love Monticello more. This is my favorite room, a little screened porch off his library. We weren't allowed to take pictures in the house, but his library and this porch were the best.
I could snap all the pictures I wanted of the gardens, though.
This little spot was my favorite. Little room, perched on the hillside beside the gardens.
What a spectacular vantage point from which to survey your land and home.
Get your nickels out, 'cause here's the money shot. What a house it is, huh? You don't need me to tell you what an impressive man Thomas Jefferson was. I choke up whenever the Morning Edition anchors read the Declaration of Independence at the 4th of July, thinking, he did that for us. Louisiana Purchase, Lewis and Clarke, masses of inventions and adaptations. But what a mass of contradictions. The whole slave/equality thing. He makes a point of saying not to spend money you haven't earned, but died with a debt nearly equal to the national debt at the time. Good grief. We shouldn't expect our national figures, past or present to be paragons. We're merely human, flawed all.
What I love most about Thomas Jefferson is how much he loved his "little mountain." House and hill were a source of endless strength and joy to him. I can relate to that.
"Architecture is my delight, and putting up and pulling down is one of my favorite amusements." Kindred spirit? Not in everything, but in this, certainly.
School starts, for me at least, this week, and this sight greeted me on my way into work yesterday morning. Traffic stopped in both directions to let this family illegally cross. It tickled me to no end, and I took it as a good sign for the coming year. Of course, I'll take what I can get.
*Edited to add: today on my drive in another batch of geese, a bit further down the road, were being ushered across the road by a city police officer. Now that's what I call lovely.
I think we've done about as much as we, personally, can do.
Neel's removed all the plaster and lath from the kitchen side, and framed out and removed a chunk from the living room side. We don't want to go much further on our own for fear of sending huge cracks along the plaster walls.
I feel for him because he clearly wants to keep going. He's enjoyed this part. He comes home from work and just starts pounding away. He doesn't even take off his work ID (wish I had a picture of that!). But we're reaching the limit of our capabilities: we've been washing dishes in the powder room sink for nearly two weeks, there's a layer of dust as fine as sifted flour all over my house, and I think I broke my toe yesterday. So we've hit our wall.
But the water heater guys are here right now to move out the water heater.
And of course the darn thing wouldn't drain so they had to move it out full, down several steps, across pea gravel and up one more. Nothing difficult is ever easy (hat tip to Mom for that invaluable quote).
Still, it's looking even more like a hallway now, so we must be getting somewhere.
So when I came inside from chatting with some friends on the block last night, Neel was leaning against the living room wall where our eventual doorway is going to go. "Hi!" He said cheerily.
And then he moved his head.
And that one? That's on the kitchen side, so I I knew we were going for it, just not so soon.
Just as I got used to that little hole...
The dogs are worried, the mess is unbelievable, and I had a hard time concentrating on Top Chef Masters, but they did it.
Lucy kept going around the corner, getting surprised and barking at the gaping hole in the wall, but Violet fits right in!
I am so overwhelmed right now. My head feels full to bursting with thoughts and ideas, fireflies of light flitting across my brain too fast to catch or latch onto. It's not just the kitchen. It's a lot of other things. (Number 9, I'm looking at YOU.) Something compelled me to creep upstairs to the Blue Rain Room yesterday afternoon where someone had forgotten to turn off the air conditioning (!) and grab this lap quilt. It's from Bend the Rules Sewing, and it has languished, draped over a closet door for two years.
Languish no more little quilt. I've finished the machine quilting, and it's on to the binding. Those rows and row of straight lines set a rhythm that settled my mind, at least for the time being. Who knew?
One of the bonuses of heading to the Shenandoahs this weekend was getting to land in this charmer for our stay. Nurse Rebecca offered her parents' Charlottesville hideaway, and we couldn't be more grateful.
The setting was stunning. Steep and rolling hills that made our little Mini Cooper say, "What the heck, you guys?" Man, we miss hills.
I've taken you inside Jan's local home before. Gracious and stunning on a grand scale. The feel of this home is totally different, but completely familiar.
As welcoming as ever, but this time on a cozy scale. Neel and I felt like we were in the very best of English cottages.
The room we slept in was off the living room, just down a step and through that door. Thanks to Neel, who mused about ghosts upstairs, Callum bunked there too. It's on the market now, this sweet cottage, and I can't help wondering if that chair right there (of which there are two), is for sale as well. Well?
From the sloping front lawn to the sweet tearrace out back, this house was nothing if not dear. Neel and I found ourselves wishing Callum were headed to UVA sooner rather than later (ha!), so we could do what Rebecca's parents did and have a place to land as lovely as this is. Thanks so much for sharing your home with us.
We headed to the mountains this weekend to catch some Virginia history and reconnect with a very dear friend of mine. I was so testy getting us out of the house on Friday afternoon. Time was standing still, and of course there was traffic and rain and a delay in the tunnel. It took forever to get there. When we settled in to the house where we were staying, and I called to say we were on our way, I heard her voice for the first time in twenty-one years. Can you believe it? I get teary thinking about it. Of course I got teary then.
When we finally got to her house, I felt shy and anxious and thrilled and almost desperate. Neel and Callum kept making jokes, "Well, if you haven't seen her in twenty years, I haven't seen her in almost ten." (Callum) "And I haven't seen her in forty." (Neel, always trying to one-up me.) When she came out of her house, called Blue Poplar, and we stood on the sidewalk we laughed and cried all at once, and Callum asked, "Momma, are you crying?" which he always asks, and I wanted to hug her husband as if it had been twenty years since I'd seen him too, even though we'd never met. The magic began right then and lasted right through the weekend.
We kicked off our time together at the Downtown Mall in Charlottesville. Snacking on beer and munchies, people watching, but mostly catching up.
Callum, who'd been cooped up in the car far too long, had a chance to roam.
At the chalk wall dedicated to Freedom of Speech, Callum wrote, "I love Thomas Jefferson. I can't wait to see Monticello. Love Callum."
At some point we had to drink eat dinner. Callum wanted fish, so we swung into the Blue Light where I introduced them to the Dark and Stormy (this time with Ginger Beer!).
Callum got his halibut on. Kid's got gills. Sure we ate, but we talked and talked and talked and talked. Like we were running out of breath, we talked.
Next day, we did it all over again. Back to the Downtown Mall for more music, people watching, yarn stores, and hello?
A quick drive into the hills for some wine and cheese before dinner (and Ginger Beer!) and then back to Blue Poplar.
Dinner in the yard as evening fell, and the bugs came out. Still with the talking.
I know I've been making dating analogies lately (what's up with that?), but you know how it is when you go out to dinner with a new couple and it's so clear that you connect? That you get each other and like the same things and you're laughing and talking all at once like you're just so tickled to be together? That's how this weekend was, but only better, because here we were, twenty years later. And who knew? Who knew that this person who was part and parcel of my childhood would turn out to be someone I'd be so thrilled to know as an adult?
For the longest time I was just going along having fun, and then I walked into their kitchen and saw a grocery list on the fridge. Seeing her handwriting, so instantly familiar, took me straight back into our shared history and settled the import of this moment upon me. I hate to use the word "blessed" because it gets thrown around so much these days. But truly, there's no other word for how I feel right now. Not just blessed that we'd found each other again, but that we like so much who we turned out to be.
Neel said it was the high point of his weekend, meeting her and seeing us together. She sparkles, he told me. For her husband, it was watching us meet again and then part (not "good-bye," just "see you soon"), because we were so happy to be together again.
I'm so happy for her because she clearly has a wonderful life. There may be an appalling lack of bacon in it (at least by my family's standards!), but I couldn't have asked for a better husband for her or more joy. (Plus she has the job I think I want when I grow up, and it took everything I had not to grab her by the ankle and beg her to tell me how to do it. I kinda figured she may not want to talk about work over the weekend, that's just about the only thing that kept me in check...that and so much else to talk about.) Walking through just the tiniest bits of their days filled me with enormous satisfaction. Knowing that she's so close, and that our days can walk along together now, well, that fills me with satisfaction too.
I took these pictures while we were tickling Callum Friday night, but his face pretty much sums up how I felt all weekend long. I wasn't even sad when we left because it was so clear that this was only the beginning.
Monday was cabinet day, and by Sunday night the room had been denuded.
Neel enjoyed this process very much.
I loved it sitting empty, but almost before I could blink there were things moving back in. That's John, helping Neel with the corner cabinet. Neighbor, friend, it's his company who we ordered our cabinets from (Remember, I can do that now, end that sentence with "from."). He's ended up being our general contractor more than anything. Friend first, I suppose.
All those lines mark out where the shelves are going to go. John's making the shelves himself in his shop (see what I mean?), and we needed to decide where they'd sit in order to determine how thick, wide and long they'd be.
Here are our only two hanging cabinets. Over the fridge and a glass-fronted cabinet. They were meant to have a Shaker style molding, but after the cabinets went up, I thought, "huh." I liked it without the molding. Oh, how hard it is for me to say that kind of thing out loud. Why? Everybody knows I have opinions. But as soon as I said it, Neel said, "I was thinking exactly the same thing." So we're molding free, and I love it.
Chris, the designer is on the left, and Phil, the installer, is on the right. John clearly thinks very highly of Chris, and I can see why. He's steady and his attention to detail is laser-focused. Phil was great too, but apparently we got Phil on a good day.
Ah, now we're getting somewhere.
This is where the dishwasher goes.
And that Rothko thing? Well look...
I know it's a stretch, especially with the venting for the hood (coming today), and all the wires hanging out, but as I was looking at all the photos, the colors struck me and the lines too. A stretch, maybe, but still Rothko-esque, I say.
We're getting there.
When we got to South Carolina, Callum disappeared into the bowels of the house, only to reappear at meal times or to be spotted as he dashed from room to room...much like dolphins moving their way up and down the Atlantic coast. ("There's one, did you see it?!"). However...