esprit de l'escalier

More weddings

This month has been full of weddings. The past two weeks I've only been home two days, as I've been attending weddings on both of the coasts. Last week Wednesday, I flew into Seattle to meet up with my sister. We were in town to celebrate with long-time family friends, whose eldest daughter got married. We got in early to spend some time in Seattle and stayed in a swank hotel that I got via Priceline.

Yesterday my parents and sister (who flew east on Tuesday) drove to Philadelphia. My brother flew from Chicago to meet up with us. Our cousin is getting married, and it's the first visit to this old city for all of us. Photos to follow.

Rainbows and birthdays

Today I saw a rainbow as I drove home. It faded out and then came back again, but then stuck with me for quite some time. Is it cheesy to say that I love rainbows? Oh god, just typing that answers my question. It may have everything to do with my Care Bear obsession from my very early years. It was the '80s and my name rhymed, how could I not?

Anyway, when I studied in Prague as an undergrad, my grandparents came to visit. Their visit coincided with my birthday. I'll always remember the afternoon of my 21st, looking out their hotel window and seeing a perfect double rainbow. It felt a little magical.

Speaking of birthdays, it was my mom's and her twin brother's on Saturday. I won't disclose the age. Not that age has anything to do with her ability to have fun.

I bought her these flowers as a gift. Here's to another great year.

Jello for Mom

When we were kids, my Mom used to make us "Monster Jello" for our birthday parties. Monster Jello consisted of a giant vat of jello full small plastic toys (which she would clean beforehand). It was pretty much the greatest thing ever. Our birthday cakes always had sparklers and our jello was full of fun.

Anyhow, I don't have any Monster Jello to share (although my sister did make a righteous batch with tiny Jesus toys for her birthday this year), but I did make a batch of jello for my Mom today. She had a terrible time at the dentist today and I thought some jello was in order. Poor Mom.

The last time I got tear gassed...

My mother and I just had a brief conversation that included the statement above. It started with her coming into the kitchen to tell me that President Obama was in Prague, where I studied for a semester as an undergrad. I said, "Lucky him." And then asked her if she had ever been there, I couldn't remember. She said she had only been "behind the iron curtain once" - the summer of 1968, Berlin. She was traveling through Europe that summer with one of her brothers.

I said, but you stayed on the western side, right? No. She went through Checkpoint Charlie, where the guards were gruff and intimidating, especially to American students. She remembers the imposing architecture of totalitarianism, and the armed guards on building tops and everywhere. She came home to Chicago and soon after came the Democratic Convention.

She went down to the protests a couple of times with her parents, and once with her friend Landis. She told me about all the people in Grant Park, all the way down to the Field Museum, and how the police had their rifles trained on the crowds, and how the police lobbied tear gas into those crowds. Some people, who had asbestos gloves and masks, would pick up the canisters and throw them back at the police. And how the police were out of control. She and Landis realized that they needed to get out of there, and held hands as the made their way to the lake through the people, and headed south until they got out of the crowds. She can't remember how they got home.

"The last time I got tear gassed..." she thinks was when she went to see Jimi Hendrix play Red Rocks. She was in college in Denver. After that, she had tickets to see the Stones play (from my googling, I'm guessing this was in 1969, at Fort Collins), but when she got there she left. She couldn't handle crowds any more. I don't blame her.

Just a little random story from my morning, to show you should always ask follow-up questions to your family members. You may learn something.

I'm working on two posts - one about my fabulous lunch with Blue Girl (please do not call her "peppy"), and one about Adventureland, which I saw, and enjoyed even more than I thought I would, last night. Plus there is now a backlog of pie on which to report.

Lucky

Guess where my Dad went last week?

Also, I should have said, "More things I love on TUESDAY." Because Mondays are long and I have no idea why I thought I'd have blogging time today. Sorry for the fake-out. Etsy love tomorrow.

(Photo courtesy of my father.)

Heart (part 1)

The weather continues to be wacko around here, but I'm looking forward to the purported 70 degree weather tomorrow. Has anyone else been watching Flight of the Conchords this season? Because I *love* the song above. It's from an episode directed by Michel Gondry. How could I not love it?

I happened to catch Writer's Almanac on Tuesday, just in time to hear the poem "Late Winter Rains" by Amber Coverdale Sumrall. Lance has been talking this week about reading aloud, and I had just heard this poem, which is gorgeous by the way. I encourage a listen. I think poetry should be heard.

Not only is the weather getting better, but I've got three trips ahead of me. I'm off to Charleston over my break with some old friends. I can't wait for a break from school, hanging out by the beach - even if it's cold - and taking some photographs. In early April I'm going to Chicago to see Andrew Bird with Natasha. Over my birthday I'm heading to Minneapolis for a week to visit family and go to a professional conference. It just so happens that M. Ward is playing and I'm going to meet up with a friend/old professor to see the show. I cannot wait. 

As an extra treat, here's an awesome video that Bird did with my favorite post-apocalyptic marching band, Mucca Pazza. God does this video make me miss the Hideout.

Andrew Bird with Mucca Pazza - "Fitz & The Dizzyspells”

More things that I am loving Monday. Have a good weekend!

Burns photos

I feel chronically tired these days. Tired and behind in everything, from blogging to school work to sleep. I don't foresee it improving anytime soon. (I chose poorly class-wise this quarter and my schedule feels a little grueling. Or I'm just a big wimp. Or I'm just getting too old for this stuff.)  Plus I'm feeling a little senioritis - I will be done in June.  That's four months left!  I can't believe it.

Because I promised a friend, here are some photos from Burns Night - over a week ago! The party was fun, although I had woken up the day before with a cold. We had original poems read, two women who sang, some friends of mine singing/playing blue grass, it was great. I missed some friends who couldn't make it this year, but the party evolves slightly and gets better every year. (Also, at some point I need to re-do my blog so you can see photos larger! More Burns shots here.)

To make tolerable this existence

My family listens to Burgess Meredith reading several stories/poems every Christmas Eve, including Francis P. Church's response to young Virginia in 1897. I wish I had it digitized, because I would share it that way, I wish you could all hear Mr. Meredith's comforting voice. For me this represents my family's belief and whimsy, two things my Grandmother instilled in us. I hope you are all warm and safe tonight.

DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in THE SUN it's so." Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? VIRGINIA O'HANLON, 115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernatural beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Gravy boats

My mother has a philosophy about gravy: the more the better.  I can't agree with her more.  She always makes a large pot full of gravy for Thanksgiving and yesterday was no different.  For eleven people, including a squirmy four year who would have rather been playing "construction guy" in the basement, there were four gravy boats on the table.  My mother told us all that in a perfect world, there would be one gravy boat for every pair of people.  She said that as a child, she hated that people always had to get up and down for gravy refills.

I hope you all had a lovely holiday.  I might still be full.

Happy Thanksgiving

Last year at Christmas, my family was at a Shaker farm outside of Lexington, KY. We were intimidated by an overly aggressive turkey. This was not it. This was a fairly normally socialized turkey at Brass Farm about a month or so ago.  He's been waiting to wish you all a happy Thanksgiving.

Anyhow, I hope everyone has a good holiday. Unfortunately my siblings can't join us, so I hope they eat well and have a good day. They will be missed.