Random Thoughts...

Slowly Making Progress

2012-02-09T21:57:00.000-05:00

When doing a renovation there are a couple things to keep in mind: 1) it will take longer than anticipated, and 2) it will cost more than budgeted. Our little DIY bathroom redo is slowly making progress. And I do mean slowly. The problem? Time. With Mr. Man working all week and driving to Macon every Sunday to visit his father, that leaves us one day each week to get as much done as humanly possible.

Where We’re At
The demo is done and the new subfloor down.

The clawfoot tub has been refurbished—and looks fantastic thanks to Prestige Resurfacing here in Atlanta. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find someone to come pick-up a tub. I called several re-glazing companies, most of whom told me I had to bring the tub to them. As I have no means of transporting a cast iron tub, I scratched them off my list. One agreed to come pick the tub up for an additional $100, then informed me I’d have to have someone here to load it onto their truck. Scratch. And one actually told me that he thought it was overkill to have the exterior of the tub re-glazed. What?! Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Finally, I called Prestige Resurfacing. Keith listened to what I wanted, picked up and delivered the finished tub, and was on the lower end of the quotes I got. When Keith picked it up we discovered stamped into the iron on the bottom of the tub the date of manufacture: 10-5-1903. We’re not sure the tub is original to the house, but it could be as the house was built in 1904.

The sink has arrived. Okay, this is the second one. The first seemed too small, and I didn’t feel it really worked with the table previously purchased to serve as the vanity. If you don’t want standard, builder-grade products from Home Depot/Lowe’s you have to order everything, and I mean everything, online making it hard to tell if what you’re ordering is really going to work in the way you envision. Anyway, I returned the first sink I had special ordered and got a new, bigger, better, bolder sink from DecoLav.

Sink #1

Sink #2

The fixtures for the clawfoot tub have arrived and are even better than anticipated. We are trying to stay under $5000 for this renovation and the shower enclosure for the tub is a big expense, running upwards to $2000. After a thorough web search I wound up buying the Telephone Shower Kit Conversion with tub filler, handheld shower and overhead shower, along with the shower enclosure from Signature Hardware. We decided to go with chrome as this felt the most authentic to the house, and we are going for an update vintage look.

Next to arrive was the faucet for the sink. Once again, the real thing did not measure up—not that the faucet isn’t gorgeous, because it is! I still salivate when I see it and it’s even more beautiful in person—it just totally over powers the sink sitting atop our delicate French country table. So back it’s going. Vintage Tub & Bath was happy to exchange it and told me this is often the reason for return of this particular faucet. I do love the bridge design though and am going with a smaller bridge faucet made by the same manufacturer of the shower kit; crossing my fingers that this one will be perfect.

First choice

Second choice

What’s Next
Plumbing is getting done this weekend. Then we are on to drywall and tile. Unfortunately we’re going to be out of town for a couple of weekends so we are looking at mid March before we’ll be ready to put everything in place.

Back on the Hunt

2012-01-18T18:13:00.000-05:00

Well the demolition is in full swing. It’s amazing what you discover when you begin tearing down walls and pulling up floors—like exposed electrical wires. The wall and threshold to the shower are gone, along with all the tile, which was a job as whoever redid this bathroom in the past applied the new tile right on top of the old.

Pulling up the floor tile was much easier as there was very little mastic used to adhere it to the floor. The subfloor beneath is in pretty bad shape, particularly under the shower where the wood is rotted. We used to think there was a leak in the shower pan as there was water under the house after the shower was used, but we discovered that the drain pipe from the shower isn’t connected to anything…it just drains under the house!

After discovering I couldn’t afford my dream sink, I started to think of other options and decided on a table with a rectangular vessel sink. Back on the hunt, I spent two days at Scott’s Antique Market this past weekend. On Friday, I hit the North building as I love the area outside which is more like a flea market and there is a dealer in an outbuilding with lots of old sinks, tubs, and, well, just about anything you can think of. Nothing caught my eye so I headed indoors. Unfortunately, everything I saw was either too long—I only have 36 inches to work with—or too expensive.

On Sunday I dropped Mr. Man off at the airport, and my brother and I headed back to Scott’s, this time to the South Building. It was early afternoon but dealers were already beginning to pack up. This is a good time to find a deal, if you can find what you’re looking for. I didn’t see anything I loved until I found an old chest of drawers, but decided against it because so many people are doing this now days and I want something a little different. We continued to look; then I saw this table tucked in the back of a booth. It has really interesting legs and the size is good—it’s only 30 inches long so will afford more room on either side—and it’s well below my budget; SOLD.

With the first coat of non-toxic, environmentally friendly paint stripper

I spent today stripping the paint off, leaving just a bit of residue. After sanding with fine steel wool and treating with wood oil, it is really beautiful. There are a few mars, which the paint was covering, but this adds character to the piece, especially considering it’s going into a bathroom in a 107-year-old home. We’ll see what Mr. Man thinks when he returns from London.

Mind-reading Chickens

2012-01-11T13:54:00.000-05:00

After several months of receiving one egg a day from our seven hens, Mr. Man and I had a serious discussion about the cost of organic layer feed and a stock pot, and lo’ and behold the girls are suddenly laying. Last week I was greeted with 3-4 eggs per day, and this morning there were five! Even Letty, my White Leghorn who hasn’t laid in over a year is producing—I know when she is laying as she is the only chicken I have that lays white eggs. I’m so happy they read my mind and are once again earning their keep.

We have had a tremendous pecan harvest this year. Our one tree has produced so many pecans that we’ve had difficulty keeping up with them. In all honesty we haven’t been all that interested in harvesting them in the past. We’ve had friends come over to harvest, and our old lawn guy always took home a couple bags, but for us they’ve always been more of a pain in our asses—some years the squirrels will pick them while they’re still green, take a couple bites and throw them down, making a huge mess of the patio.

The first few pecans to fall along with the last of the Shitake mushrooms and peppers from the garden

This year I started thinking about what a welcome source of additional protein pecans would have been during a hard winter to people before the days of supermarkets. So, I started collecting them; first just filling up a bowl or two. Then we had a good storm and the next morning the ground was literally covered in pecans. I collected two big baskets, and between my brother and I, shelled them all, resulting in nine quart-sized bags.

After sharing some with family, I pulled out the food saver and threw the rest in the freezer. The next storm had the same result, with big gusts of wind sending pecans down on our heads while we harvested. Over Christmas, my daughter collected a big bag for her girl-friend’s father and I collected a big bag (about 5 pounds) for freezing.

It took me several days to shell them all, not that I mind; it’s a good excuse to watch a couple of episodes of “Friday Night Lights.” Marley has taken to hunting out any that have cracked open upon hitting the patio—I usually leave these for the squirrels. And, just when I thought there couldn’t possibly be any pecans left on the tree, this morning I walk outside to yet another small crop.

Off to shell pecans…

Let the fun begin... a bathroom makeover story

2012-01-05T17:49:00.000-05:00

We are finally renovating the downstairs bathroom. For fourteen years this bathroom has been an embarrassment with its hideous grape-motif wallpaper and dark, claustrophobic walk-in shower.

Our lovely wallpaper

This is the shower that we actually used for the first 8 years we lived in the house as the people who “renovated” the nice-sized master bathroom with double sinks, walk-in closet and whirlpool tub neglected to add a shower. Something we chose to overlook when we bought the house, and have since rectified.

There is no light in this shower. I believe there were
actually glass shades on the vanity lights at one point...

When we renovated the guest bathroom upstairs three (or was it four?) years ago, replacing the claw-foot tub for a frameless shower, we decided to use the claw-foot tub downstairs. So like any sensible people without a garage or basement would do, we shoved it in the downstairs bathroom and closed the door, which has remained closed ever since.

The beloved claw-foot tub

I have spent the last couple of weeks scouring bathroom books, magazines and websites; picking out tile, fantasizing about sinks—I say fantasizing because the sink I have envisioned all these years is truly and undeniably out of our price range; there is just no way we can justify $1000 for a sink—looking for a tub re-glazer, and searching for the perfect light fixtures for a 107-year-old bungalow.

This weekend the demolition begins. Did I mention that we, along with the help of my brother, are doing most of this project ourselves? Should be an adventure...

Saying Goodbye to London

2011-10-14T18:40:00.000-04:00

I haven't been very good about posting recently; not even managing to finish writing about our London trip. If I'm honest, I didn't really want to go to London. I don't know why, it just didn't sound very exciting. I much preferred the thought of Barcelona... warm weather, great architecture, and the Mediterranean Sea. And, I was sold on staying in the nearby beach town of Seches described to my by my friend Kyle. But, Mr. Man wanted to go to London, and as much as he likes to espouse that I always get what I want, he won. Of course, it helped that all our friends told me I would love London, and I did. And, when you throw a wonderful traveling partner and amazing friends into the mix there is no room for complaint.

Mr. Man at Buckingham Palace

Taking the Tube in London is so easy and makes me long for such an extensive public rail system in Atlanta. Come to think of it, wouldn't it be great if we had a train system in place that would take Americans from state to state the way EuroRail takes Europeans country to country? If I could hop on an express train from Atlanta to Tampa (sigh)... Alas, Americans do not seem to see the benefits of this and will likely never be willing to spend tax dollars for a rail system. And of course, the oil and airline industries would lobby against it, but I digress.We have taken the Tube all over this city, never once feeling uncomfortable, even taking the train by myself to Shoreditch, where I wandered the streets, browsing the vintage shops.

We leave for Atlanta tomorrow. It has been a great two weeks, but I'm ready to be home.

For more pictures click here.

Tower of London

2011-10-12T22:05:00.000-04:00

Tower Bridge

The Tower of London is a large complex of buildings located on the north bank of the River Thames and is likely the most historic site in London. Surrounded by two exterior defensive walls and a moat—which has been filled in—the tower was begun in 1066 and expanded upon by each subsequent monarch. The castle served as a royal residence but was used as a prison beginning in 1100 and has served as an armory, treasury, menagerie, Royal Mint, and is today the home to the Crown Jewels, of which there has been only one attempt to steal.

For more pictures click here.

The Impressionists

2011-10-11T23:00:00.000-04:00

We went to see Billy Elliot last night at the Victoria Palace Threatre. I bought the tickets online before we left Atlanta and by checking out a couple different sites, I managed to get us third row, center seats for the price of a binoculars-necessary seat at the Fox. If you haven’t seen this show, do so. It is awesome! It will make you laugh, it will make you cry. It is the most fun I’ve ever had at a show. During intermission, Mike confessed that he doesn’t like musicals and hadn’t really been looking forward to the show... but he is loves it and is having a great time. Whew!

The cast is great and the young man who plays Billy (there are actually three actors who play the role since each night’s performance is so physically taxing that they take the next two nights off), Ryan Collinson, is just twelve years old and the only “Billy” with no acting or singing training and very little classical dance training. Perhaps this is what makes him so perfect for the role. That and that he’s so damn cute. We hate for it to end.

West Minster & Big Ben

West Minster Abbey

The National Gallery
Mr. Man and I head straight to the “18th to Early 20th Century Paintings” and spend some time among the impressionists: Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Degas, Cézanne, Renoir. My favorites you ask? You didn’t think I was going to let you get away without sharing, did you? Unfortunately, the National Gallery doesn’t allow photography, but I’ll share links.

The National Gallery

A Nymph by a Stream, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1869-70. Where is my Art History book? I know there must be some mystery in this painting of Lise Tréhot, who stares out at the audience seemingly unaware of her nakedness. She seems so young and innocent, like a cherub. The Umbrellas, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1880-81; I love this painting because Renoir goes through a style change while he is painting it which is obvious in the painting. The central figure of the painting shows a return to a more classical style.

The Water Lily Pond, Claude Monet, 1899. Of course, Monet’s water lilies are among his most famous, and are among my personal favorites. This one focuses on the bridge instead of the water lilies themselves. Mr. Man points out a painting that I passed over because I thought it ugly, Water Lilies, Setting Sun (1907). When I turn to view it from across the room, seeing from afar, I see how beautiful it is with the pink and orange reflections in the water.

The Morning Walk, George Seurat, 1885; this is such a cool painting. The brushstrokes are large and bold, and up close you see each distinct color, but stepping away the colors blend and meld and the painting changes before your eyes, becoming deeper and richer.

The Boulevard Montmartre at Night, Camille Pissarro, 1897. I love the almost abstractness of this painting and the perspective and reflection of lights on the wet streets. When I think of Paris art, this is the painting that comes to my mind.

Sunflowers, Vincent Van Gogh, 1888. I once took an art class where we had to recreate a painting using tiny pieces of cut paper. This is the painting that I chose (I will have to search to see if I still have this when I get home). This painting reflects the life cycle of the sunflower: buds, through maturity and death. Seeing it up close, with its thick brushstrokes and texture, is a highlight for me. But my favorite Van Gogh here has to be A Wheatfield with Cypresses, 1889, painted while Van Gogh was in asylum. It is so beautiful and expressive. The sky in particular draws me in with its strange shapes and cool colors. I could gaze at this painting all day and never tire of it.

There is something very unique about an Edgar Degas painting; a blurred, slightly out-of-focus feel to his subjects. After the Bath, Woman Drying Herself, 1888-89, is a pastel work and immediately identifiable as Degas. Degas manages to give sensuality to an everyday task, while at the same time projecting chasteness. Okay, I won’t bore you further.

Tired and hungry we head for Trafalger Square and then take a walk along the Thames, stopping to browse the stalls of books, maps and botanical prints.

The London Eye & Big Ben

You know I love Graffiti!

Tonight we dine on traditional Fish & Chips.

What to do tomorrow...

For more pictures click here.

Art Really is in the Eye of the Beholder

2011-10-10T18:29:00.000-04:00

We are all pretty tired this morning but looking forward to exploring the city. We decide to visit the Tate Modern as it is located a few blocks away on the Thames. The weather is wonderful and there are a lot of people out walking and enjoying the sunshine.

The Tate houses several Picasso’s, my favorite being “Nude Woman in a Red Armchair,” of his mistress and muse Mare-Therese Walter (1932).

This work belongs to the remarkable sequence of portraits that Picasso made of Marie-Thérèse Walter in his studio at the Chateau de Boisgeloup. Marie-Thérèse is presented here – as in almost her portraits – as a series of sensuous curves. Even the scrolling arms of the chair have been heightened and exaggerated to echo the rounded forms of her body. The face is a double or metamorphic image: the right side can also be seen as the face of a lover in profile, kissing her on the lips.

(From the display caption)

A couple of the pieces are unfamiliar to me; earlier works which are sculptural in feel and painted in a much darker palette: “Seated Nude,” 1909-10, and “Bust of a Woman,” 1909.

In the early years of Cubism, Picasso constructed his images using small facets, or geometric planes, and represented objects from different viewpoints. Many critics of the period believed the artist aimed to represent reality in a new, almost scientific manner. However, as this atmospheric painting shows, Picasso could use this technique for expressive ends. Here, the woman has been all but stripped of her humanity and appears strangely mechanistic. At the same time, Picasso demonstrates his awareness of tradition in her pose and in the play of light within the picture.

(From the display caption)

The treatment of the human figure in the Cubist paintings of Picasso and Braque is often reminiscent of sculpture. In this work, made in mid-1909, Picasso used planes of warm greys and burnt sienna to establish the bulk of the body. The shifting directions of the brushstrokes indicate the depth of the surfaces and enhance individual features such as the conical socket of the eye. Such techniques were inspired by African sculptures. The poet André Salmon described Picasso’s studio as filled with the ‘strange wooden grimaces... [of] a superb selection of African and Polynesian sculpture’.

(From the display caption)

There are also many modern installations and we have a debate regarding what constitutes “art.” While I try to be open-minded, there are some things I don’t necessarily consider art just because someone had the idea to do it and put it on a museum wall. If everything is art, then nothing is art. Take this piece by Michelangelo Pistoletto for example. Is this art? Perhaps. Or, perhaps the real “art” of this piece is the words necessary to explain it and convince the observer of its value. It’s a good thing art is in the eye of the beholder. Go to the Tate website for commentary on this piece.

Venus of the Rags

This is not to say that I don’t consider any installation piece art. Take this piece by Do Ho Suh. I think this is awesome! Suh recreates architectural spaces from memory out of polyester and steel. This piece has beautifully rendered details.

Staircase III, 2010

Okay, I won’t bore you with any more of our museum visit; although there was some pretty interesting stuff, especially an installation about Vito Acconci’s 1972 live performances in a New York gallery, particularly that entitled Seedbed… unbelievable. Really, if someone were to tell you about this you would think they were making it up.

After we left the gallery we grab a late lunch at The Real Greek, which pulls us in by aroma and does not disappoint, and then head across the Millennium Bridge to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Unfortunately, St. Paul’s is closed so we settle for walking and window shopping before we need to head back to rest and freshen up. Tonight we have tickets to see “Billy Elliott” at the Victoria Palace Theatre.

Millennium Bridge

For more pictures click here.

Au Revoir France, Hello London

2011-10-09T22:06:00.000-04:00

Rising early we head for Tours this morning to drop of the car. We are supposed to return it full of gas and spend a little time driving around searching for a petrol station. When we picked-up the car they provided us a hand-drawn, photocopied map with how to get to the major roadways—of course there is not a single street name on it—wouldn’t it be fantastic if they included the nearest petrol station on the map? Oh well, I guess it is in their best interest for you to return the car without filling up, that way they can charge you a fee for filling it up for you. We finally find a self-serve station and after a little confustion, figure out how to use it.

We drop the car, and as we are earlier than we anticipated, grab a cup of coffee as we wait for our train platform to be announced. There is a young man out front kicking a soccer ball around. He somehow gets the ball stuck on the canopy of the front entrance and decides to climb up to retrieve it. He manages to scale one of the poles supporting the canopy and swings both of his legs over so that he is dangling from his knees with is head toward the cement walkway. We watch as he begins to swing his torso back and forth in an effort to sit upright. Several of us in the cafe are watching with a mixture of awe and fear on our faces; no one wants to watch him fall on his head. This tactic doesn’t work and he pulls his legs off the canopy and hangs from his hands, trying to pull himself up, which he miraculously manages to do. We almost feel we should stand and applaud. Ball retrieved, he casually goes back to kicking it around.

Our train arrives and we take our seats for the short ride to Paris. In Paris we have to catch a taxi to the Nord Station to take the Eurostar to London. Mike and Mari have arrived before us and are sending us messages to hurry up to our beautiful flat. We grab a cab and head for Winchester Wharf. The flat is lovely, modern, and in a great location right on the Thames. We are fortunate to have Mike and Mari join us; I had booked the flat, which has 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, without knowing if we would be able to convinence someone to share it. There is a balcony overlooking the Thames with doors that fold open to let in the breeze. Mike and Mari already have wine and beer in the refrigerator, and we relax and catch up before heading out to dinner.

The Loire Valley: Câteau de Cheverny and A Flea Market in France

2011-10-08T23:56:00.000-04:00

Leave it to me to find a flea market in France. On our way to Sologne we pass through Bracieux, a small town with tables set up in the town square with dishes, glassware, art, silver, and more. Mr. Man is asking if I want to stop before the words are even out of my mouth—he knows me so well! Turning up a side street we hunt for a place to park and then make our way back. I am thrilled; especially as we didn't make it to the flea market in Paris.

We stop at a couple booths and see so many lovely things: a small wooden phone table in beautiful condition for €40, two gorgeous night tables, great chairs… if only I could get them home! At one point a gentleman comes up to me and asks if I am Parisian. My “Excusez-moi?” said with just a slight southern twang answers his question and he holds up his hand and shakes his head as he turns to walk away.

The weather is perfect, sunny and cool, and we spend an hour walking around, browsing the stalls. At one table they are selling a lot of silver untensils, and I pick up a couple antique silver tea strainers and a beautiful antique silver spoon.

We look for other small trinkets we can fit into our luggage, before we drag ourselves away and get back on route to Sologne.

Château de Cheverny
The first thing you see upon entering Cheverny is the dogs. Lots of dogs! Apparently, Cheverny is a hunting venue and the kennels house about 100 French hounds. Mr. Man is fascinated with them as they are either fighting, or, hmmm, how do I say this delicately... fornicating. There are a few who jump up to put their noses through the fence for a scratch and one who sits calmly in the middle of the chaos as if he is bored by it all. The aggression of some of the others puts me off and I have to turn away.

The Château has been in the same family, the Hurault family, for six centuries; although twice it slipped out of the family’s hands. The current owners, descendents of the Hurault family, the Marquis and Marquise de Vibraye, live in private apartments in the right wing. This is the most modern, and the smallest, of the châteaus we’ve visited. You cannot enter most of the rooms and a few are blocked off with Plexiglas.

The Birth Chamber
(where mothers presented their newborn infants)

The Nursery

The First Rocking Horses
(from the time of Napolean III)

The most interesting room is the Arms Room, which contains weapons and armour from the 14th, 15th and 16th centuries. Most men would like to spend some time in this room and Mr. Man is no different. I continue on to the adjacent room and return to find him still exploring. He points out to me a small suit of armour worn by the Duc de Bordeaux when he was 4 years-old.

The King’s Bedchamber has a canopied bed with Persian embroidery from the 16th century and is surrounded by beautifully preserved tapesties from c.1640 depicting the travels of Ulysses.

The flower garden is lovely and probably my favorite thing about this place, as it so often tends to be. There are rows of colored glass coordinated with the colors of flowers in the next row. My mind is already churning for how I might incorporate this idea into my own garden.

On the way to the garden we come across a large bird eating berries. He doesn't seem perturbed by us and I inch closer to take his picture. I am squatting on the ground when he suddenly flies right at me! I squeal and duck, and Mr. Man and I, along with another couple meandering through the garden burst out laughing. Message received!

For more pictures of Château de Cheverny and the gardens click here.

The Loire Valley: Château de Chambord

2011-10-08T20:11:00.000-04:00

After touring Château d’Amboise yesterday afternoon we bought a bottle of wine and some cheese and headed back to Château des Arpentis to relax before dinner. Olivier, who lives on site, started a fire in the huge fireplace in the salon upstairs, and I wandered around this floor of the château—which houses the private rooms of the owner when he stays here. I have been dying to explore and Olivier told us it would be okay.

Château des Arpentis

We had hopes of having dinner at La Forchette, a restaurant I read about that got rave reviews. We wandered the streets of Amboise and were happy when we found it, only to be immediately disappointed as they are closed until October 24th.

This morning we venture a little further afield to Chambord, about an hour’s drive from Amboise to visit Château de Chambord and Château Chevenry.

Château de Chambord
Château de Chambord, a truly grand Renaissance castle—the largest in the Loire Valley—was intended as a hunting lodge. Begun by King Francis I in 1519, only the keep and the royal wing were complete upon his death in 1547. In his 32-year reign, he only spent 72 days at Chambord.

The keep is in the shape of a cross with double spiral staircases, each winding independently, at its center. This is pretty ingenious for the time and there is some speculation that Leonardo di Vinci had a hand in the design.

There are three floors, reached by the central staircase; the First Floor (second to Americans) consists of the royal apartments: the State Apartment, the Queen’s Apartment (occupied by Louis XIV’s wives, Maria Theresa of Austria and Madame de Maintenon), the 18th-Century Apartments, and the Comte de Chambord Museum. These rooms contain some of the best perserved tapestries I've ever seen.

The State Apartments: Louis XIV's Bedchamber

The Queen's Apartment

There is also the Chapel and King Francis I’s Chamber (in the Royal Wing) accessible by a hallway or exterior staircase.

King Francis I's Chambers

The Second Floor with it’s stunning ornamental ceiling vaults contains the Hunting and Wildlife Art Foundation. I must admit that I am somewhat fasinated by the skulls and antlers hanging from the walls, which are morbidly beautiful.

Hunting Tapestries

From the terraces there is a wonderful view of the park, which covers 5440 hectares (800 of which are open to the public) and is the largest enclosed forset park in Europe. From here we have a spectaular view of the roof.

Off to Cheverny...

For more pictures of Château de Chambord click here.

The Loire Valley: Chateâu d’Amboise

2011-10-07T23:19:00.000-04:00

After sharing a quick sandwich in the gardens of Chateâu de Chenonceau, Mr. Man and I head for Amboise—we had dinner here last night at a wonderful restaurant, La Reserve where we were shown to a table in the back (we did not have a reservation) and were soon joined by two other tables of English speakers. Mr. Man made the mistake of assuming we were all Americans and was quickly corrected; both of the other tables were seated with Canadians.

We walk the narrow, cobble-stoned streets window shopping. I swear that I cannot tour another castle, but manage to dip into my reserves and we head for Chateâu d’Amboise. There is first a set of stairs and then a long ramp to reach the courtyard of the castle. This isn't as easy as it was six years ago when we were walking and climbing our way through Italy, and I remind myself to start walking more when I get home.

The castle is not as splendid as Chateâu de Chenonceau, but the views over the Loire Valley are lovely and we stand on the tower with the wind whipping our hair (okay, my hair) soaking up the view before moving on.

We start out in the small chapel (St. Hubert chapel) where Leonard da Vinci is buried. Leonard was invited to Amboise by King Francis I in 1515 and died here in 1519. The chapel was built by Charles VIII and was reserved for the private use of the royal family.

There are two styles to the castle: the flamboyant Gothic style of the Charles VIII wing (on the left) and the Renaissance style of the Louis XII wing.

Chateâu d’Amboise

Gothic Roof Windows

The Gothic Wing consists of the Guard’s Room, Sentries Walk, Noble Guardsmen’s Room, Drummers Room, which once served as a royal dressing room, and the Council Chamber.

The Sentries' Walk

The Council Chamber

The Renaissance Rooms consist of the Cupbearer’s Room, King Henri II’s Chamber, and the Franciscan Antechamber.

The Cupbearer's Room

King Henri II's Chamber

The Louis-Philippe Rooms—Louis Philippe was given the Chateau d’Amboise by his mother Louise-Marie-Adelaide de Bourbon-Penthievre (now that’s a mouth full)—consist of: The Louis-Philippe Study, Bedchamber, and Music Room.

The Louis-Philippe Study

The Bedchamber

And of course, the garden, which is formal and not really to my taste, but we did delight in taking pictures of what we dubbed the “bubble garden.”

For more pictures of Chateâu d’Amboise click here.

The Loire Valley: Chateâu de Chenonceau

2011-10-07T22:37:00.000-04:00

The air is crisp and chilly this morning, and we scramble into our warmer clothes (we knew we brought them for a reason). After a quick breakfast of pastries and coffee, we head out for Chateâu de Chenonceau. Built on the River Cher in the 16th century, it is stunningly beautiful. We walk its stone floors for well over an hour trying to picture what life must have been like here. The Chateâu is built over the river with a magnificent hall built by Catherine de’Medici and is embraced with formal gardens on either side.

The gallery built over the river

My favorite rooms are the kitchens with all the copper pots hanging from the walls and huge fireplaces for cooking and roasting meats. There are several rooms: the pantry with a large fireplace and bread oven, the larder which would have been filled with grains and produce is off to one side, and the butchery with its hanging meat rack is off to another. There is a small dining room beside the pantry where the staff would take their meals and a bridge to the larger kitchen with roasting spit through a small bridge.

There are of course the rooms for the King (Henri II), the Queen, and the King’s “favorite lady,” Diane de Poitiers, who had the bridge build upon which Catherine de’Medici built the gallery. But the most interesting room is that of Louise of Lorraine, who, after the death of her husband, King Henri III, took up residence at Chenonceau surrounded by nuns, and spent the last 11 years of her life in mourning. Always dressed in white, the protocol for royal mourning, she was dubbed the White Queen. Her room is black: ceiling, walls, drapery, even the linens upon her bed.

There is also a 16th century farm; a great example of how growing food can be beautiful as well as practical with flowers and vegetables growing side-by-side.

For more pictures of Chateâu de Chenonceau, the gardens, and farm click here.

Respite in the Loire Valley

2011-10-06T20:58:00.000-04:00

Saying goodbye to Paris is bittersweet; on one hand, I am anxious to get away from the pace and noise of the city to a much needed respite. On the other hand, there is so much we have not seen; a good reason to return some day. All the same, we bid goodbye to Leigh and Mary and board the train for Tours. We have a first class coach and travel with an interesting and engaging family from Australia, passing the time talking about our travels and families. Debarking in Tours we rent a car and make the short drive to Amboise.

Chateau des Arpentis

Arriving at Chateau des Arpentis in the Loire Valley we are greeted by a small castle at the end of a tree-lined drive. It is easily the nicest, most surreal place I have ever stayed—perhaps a better word would be serene. Our room is in what used to be the attic with large exposed beams and a small sitting area. The room faces the front of the Chateau where a small pasture resplendent with grazing horses serves as our view. I can already feel the hectic nature of Paris fading away…

Chateau des Arpentis

For more pictures of Chateau des Arpentis click here.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want: The Louvre and Musée d’Orsay

2011-10-05T23:10:00.001-04:00

We are up early this morning in order to make the most of our last day in Paris. First stop… the Louvre.

The Louvre
Huge and impossible to see in one day, we of course, head straight for the Mona Lisa along with every other tourist. The organizer in me is appalled at the mad swarm in front of this famous small portrait of the woman with the impish smile. From behind the crowd, which is at least 10 jostling people deep, you can barely see the top half of the painting, add to that the dozens of arms in mid-air with camera attached in hopes of miraculously snapping a shot free-form style and your hopes of getting close are somewhat dashed; this is not for the weak of heart.

Why isn’t there a que? People could enter from one side, spend a couple minutes, snap their pictures and be escorted out of the way from the other side. Oh well, no pain, no gain right? I dive in and slowly make my way forward. Each time a person from the front turns to leave, fighting against the crowd to make their way out, people from each side and behind inch forward to close the gap. I don’t make it to the very front, but do manage to get close enough to get an unobstructed view for the five seconds it takes me to snap a photo. I would much prefer to stand and comtemplate, especially a painting with as much history and mystery as this, but as Mick Jagger said, “You can’t always get what you want.”

Venus de Milo

Other highlights: The Winged Victory of Samothrace, Aphrodite (known as the “Venus de Milo”), The Dying Slave by Michelangelo—I whisper to Mr. Man that it must have been “la petite mort” as the slave’s expression is more ecstasy than agony), and Psyche and Cupid.

The Dying Slave

Psyche and Cupid

Musée d’Orsay
The Musee d’Orsay is much more manageable than the Louvre; it is smaller and currently has a couple of exhibitions closed as they are in the middle of a move. Unfortunately, there is no photography allowed.

From the map we determine there are several rooms we’d like to visit and head off in the direction of the James Tissot exhibition. Tissot was known for his paintings of young women; all fully clothed. For a good commentary on his portrait of the Marquis and Marchioness of Miramon go to: http://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/collections/works-in-focus/painting/commentaire_id/portrait-of-the-marquis-and-marchioness-of-miramon-and-their-children-8790.html?tx_commentaire_pi1[pidLi]=509&tx_commentaire_pi1[from]=841&cHash=3654df84b5

As we move to the next gallery we are surprised upon an exhibition by Claude Monet, one of my favorite artists, not listed on the guide. There is a teacher giving a lecture to what seems a high school class in front of the Luncheon on the Grass. The canvas was huge when painted and is in two pieces and there are obviously other pieces missing. Monet painted this in 1865-1866; at the time he couldn’t pay his rent and he gave the canvas to his landlord to hold. When he could finally afford to pay the landlord, the canvas had been rolled up in the landlord’s cellar for several years and was ruined. Monet cut it up into three pieces, two of which are at the Musée d’Orsay, the third was lost.

Edouard Manet also did a Luncheon on the Grass (1865) painting and it too is housed at the Musée d’Orsay. In this painting there are two men and a nude woman who has obviously just finished bathing in the river (there is another woman along the water’s edge in the background). This was pretty scandalous at the time. The woman gazes out at the audience seemingly mindless of her nakedness. The fact that the two men are fully clothed makes her nakedness even more striking. My absolute favorite is Olympia. Painted by Manet in 1863. This painting caused an outrage at the 1865 Salon. I love the shamelessness with which the young woman looks out at the audience, naked save for her shoes. She looks so young, but knowing beyond her years.

There are several Vincent Van Gogh paintings on display, the most famous his self-portrait.

David, Me, Mark, Mari, Mike, Mary & Leigh

Tonight we dine with our dear friends who have joined us in Paris for our 50th Year Celebartion. Not a bad way to celebrate a birthday. Tomorrow we are off to the Loire Valley.

For more pictures click here.

Versailles - Viva la Revolucion

2011-10-04T22:53:00.000-04:00

This morning we are headed to Versailles, the Palace built by Louis XIII, as his country residence, and used as a principal residence by his son, Louis XIV, the Sun King. We take the RER train to Versailles and make our way to the ticket office. We opt for a guided tour and head toward the palace.

Upon approach you are greeted by the gilded gates; surely St. Peter’s could be no more spectacular. My first thought is “no wonder there was a revolution,” and this is just the exterior!

There are several interconnected buildings. To the right are the apartments of the King, connected, of course, to the building which houses the mistresses, both official (the favorite) and unofficial. To the left are the Queen's apartments, connected to the building which houses the children, and next to that, the kitchens.

The interior is grand and vast; our tour was 1 1/2 hours, but we only scratched the surface, viewing the State Apartments, Apartments of the King and Queen, The Royal Chapel, and The Hall of Mirrors.

The Royal Chapel

The Royal Chapel, begun in 1700 and inaugurated in 1710

The State Apartments

Salon d'Hercule

Salon de l'Abondance

Louis XIV as Roman Warrior
Salon de Venus

Ceiling of Salon de Diane

The Hall of Mirrors

The King's Apartments
Prior to Louis the XIV, this room was used for receptions but Louis XIV had his bed chamber moved here after the Hall of Mirrors was constructed. The court had the right to watch the King retire each evening and rise each morning—Louis believed in a very public life—and he had special windows installed so that the morning sun would fall directly on his bed.

The King's Bed

The Queen's Apartment
The Queen too had to go to bed each evening and rise each morning in public. The French so hated Marie Antoinette that when they broke into the Palace it was to her rooms they headed first. It is the door to the right of The Queen's Jewel Chest (below) through which she fled to her husband's (Louis XVI) apartments, where the whole family was captured.

The Queen's Bed

The Queen's Jewelry Chest

Marie Antoinette with Her Children
The Salon du Grand Couvert

The Grand Trianon
After touring the grand palace we take a trolley along the garden to the Grand Trianon where Marie Antoinette took refuge from the public life of court. For some reason, we were not allowed photos inside the chateau.

The Grand Trianon

Garden of The Grand Trianon

Finally, we walk back toward the palace through the garden—after stopping for a quick glass of wine alongside the grand canal. There are many “rooms” in the garden and some pretty interesting statues and fountains—the most intriguing being the Bassin de Latone.

Latona and Her Children

“Daughter of a Titan, loved by Jupiter, she gave birth to two children, Apollo and Diana, in the shade of an olive tree. One day while she was resting in the land of Caryae she asked some peasants for a drink of water to quench her thrist. When they derided her she asked Jupiter to avenge the insult and he transformed the insolent peasants into frogs.”

The gardens are truly breathtaking and we wish we had time to explore them fully, but time is short and we need to catch the train back to Paris.

For more pictures click here.

Montmartre

2011-10-03T23:39:00.000-04:00

Today we head for Montmartre in search of the flea market, Les Puces de Saint-Ouen at Porte de Clignancourt. Taking the metro, we debark at Barbes Rochechouart and are immediately struck by the difference between this area and central Paris where we have spent the last couple of days. The streets are busy, but not with tourists. There is an edginess and many youth hanging around; we take a minute to secure our belongings as we have been told the area is ripe with pick pockets. We work our way toward Sacré-Coeur, but are unable to find anything resembling a flea market. There are trinket and t-shirt shops galore, but these are not what we are looking for.

Sacré-Coeur Basilica sits on the highest point of the city and affords the most wonderful views of all of Paris. Upon entering we are told there is no photography inside, but everyone, and I do mean everyone, is not only blatantly taking photos, but using flash. Having always been a rule follower—something my husband relentlessly makes fun of me for—I resist the temptation to break out my camera and take a photo of the breathtaking mosaic in the apse, Christ in Majesty. Until we are about to leave that is; and, of course, what happens? I get caught! Seriously, there are people taking photos left and right, but the minute I whip out my camera I am sharply told “there is no photography allowed inside!” I am publicly shamed, and am horrified. No sooner has my admonisher turned and walked away than the woman next to me takes out her camera and quickly snaps a couple of shots.

Mr. Man and I head up Ovoid Dome for the view of the city; deciding not to count the steps as we climb. On a clear day, this view must be spectacular; as it is, even with the haze, it’s pretty incredible.

We leave Sacré-Coeur and wander around a small outdoor artists’ market before stepping into the Dalí Museum, which houses the largest collection of Dalí sculpture in France. While I’m not much of a fan of surrealism, I have to admit that I’m intrigued by Salvador Dalí. His series on time, which is represented here with a sculpture, entitled Nobility of Time, struck me with its description: “Dalinian time is not rigid; it is one with space and fluidity. When we are involved in pleasant activities or in work that absorbs all our attention, ‘time flies’, but when we are mired in boredom or discomfort, it drags on. Dalí’s limp watch no longer ‘keeps’ time but the speed of our time depends only on us.” The speed of our time depends only on us...

We have dinner at Il Campionissimo, a new pizza restaurant with over 70 options. You can get traditional pizza or pizza with foie gras, and just about anything in-between. We arrive later in the evening, after the crowds, and are joined by our friends from Atlanta, Mike and Mari who arrived toda and will be joining us in London. We are having such a good time that it takes us a while to realize we are the only people left in the restaurant and that the owners are patiently waiting to close. We walk back to the apartment along the cobble-stoned streets feeling happy and full.

For more pictures click here.

Notre Dame and the Jardin du Luxembourg

2011-10-02T22:04:00.040-04:00

The late night and jet lag has taken its toll and we start today a little late. Mary and I venture out for coffee and find a wonderful little take-a-way boulangerie with pastries and coffee, and make our way back to the apartment where we enjoy croissants and pain du chocolat in front of the open windows while discussing the day’s itinerary.

Our first stop is Notre-Dame, an incredible example of Gothic architecture located on Ile de la Cité. The line is long but moves quickly as there is no entry fee. The church is beautiful with its long central nave, yet is in need of some repair; the right-side chapels are beautifully restored and painted while along the left side there is peeling paint and what looks like soot or possibly mold.

Somehow we miss the fact that you can climb the north tower for views of Paris and the gargoyles. Nor do we take the time to walk behind the cathedral to see the flying buttresses; I’m not sure how this happened as this is the most spectacular view of the exterior of the church. Afterward, we visit the crypt, but the smell is so strong and stale that I find myself huffing my brochure (much like women held posies to their noses during the plague) before desperately making an escape to wait for the others in the air and sunshine of the square in front of the cathedral.

Lunch is at Café Latin where we have a delightful waiter (I guess surliness isn’t a prerequisite for servers in Paris after all) who is kind and patient of our elementary French. Mr. Man and I share a bowl of the most delicious soupe a l’oignon gratinée (French onion soup) and a salad with goat cheese wrapped in fillo and then fried crisp. Sitting in the open window, we watched people passing by and marveled at the number of countries and ethnicities represented.

Mary, Leigh & Mr. Man

With full bellies and a couple of glasses of wine under our belts, we make our way to Luxembourg Garden, a wonderful public green space—tax dollars well spent; there are many chairs and benches available for sitting around the fountain or along shaded paths. Being a sunny and warm fall Sunday there are many people reading books or dozing or sharing a picnic with friends on the lawn.

Once we have our fill of people watching and are feeling a little refreshed, we make our way toward the Seine hoping to take a boat tour toward the Eiffel Tower; alas, we are too late to buy tickets and will have to wait for another day.

Leigh and Mary decide to take a taxi to the tower while Mr. Man and I make our way toward the Louvre where we stop to share a bottle of wine at the Café Marly in the Louvre courtyard, reminding us of our many nights in Piazza Navona. We meet two fellow Americans, Linda and Mary Jane from California, and spend a few hours talking and laughing and sharing stories of our travels and lives before heading out in search of a late dinner and bed.

For more pictures click here.

Nuit Blanche

2011-10-02T18:46:00.005-04:00

We headed out for Nuit Blanche last night around 10:00pm, grabbed a bite to eat in the Marais where I had escargot still in the shell; it had the most wonderful earthy flavor, very unlike what you get in the States, which usually is more about the flavors of butter, white wine and garlic than the snails.

We tried to take in one of the art installations entitled "Purple Rain" but the line was 3-4 blocks long and 4-5 people deep. We fought our way through the crowd on the street to the entrance where we could see a purple glow emanating from inside and standing on a railing, I could just make out people wlaking around with clear umbrellas in an artificially created “rain.” Not sure anyone who was waiting in line would consider it worth the wait, but then again, art is in the eye of the beholder.

Leaving the crowd, we worked our way along a side street and came across this light show, which consisted of lights flashing to the rhythm of music.

We arrived back at the apartment around 3:30am. Not bad for a first day.

Note: The video of Purple Rain on YouTube was not created by me.

Ahhh... Paris

2011-10-01T20:37:00.065-04:00

Arriving in Paris at 5:30am affords you the chance to see the city before it is awake, but then again, the same could be said for us. We were fortunate to be able to get into our apartment early as the renters before us left a day early.

The apartment is quintessential Paris, small but well appointed with a French Country kitchen, which, truth be told, is what attracted me in the first place.

There are two small bedrooms with en suite baths—the door to the bath in the loft is so small that even I must duck to avoid banging my head upon entering.

A small living/dining area, with nine foot windows that open out to french balconies that overlook the street make up the rest of the apartment. Sleeping with these windows open at night is a bit noisy, but necessary as the weather is untraditionally warm for the first of October and absolutely gorgeous.

After a brief nap—I know that you are supposed to stay awake so that you acclimate to the time difference, but sleeping in coach during an eight-hour international flight (when it is essentially late afternoon to your body) is next to impossible. By the time we got to the apartment and were shown around, we collapsed into bed and slept for 3 hours.

We spend the early afternoon getting a feel for the neighborhood, locating the closest boulangerie and market for essentials, and then walking to the Louvre while we wait for our friends Leigh and Mary to arrive from Portland. The French have a notorious reputation among Americans of being, well, let's just say brusque, a cultural characteristic that you have to quickly decide to not let bother you. We pop into a small brasserie and are immediately told to "wait" in a manner that seems somewhat annoyed. We are shown to a table in the small, stuffy restaurant and seemingly forgotten. What we thought would be a quick bite to eat turns into a long affair, with our waiter managing to avoid eye contact whenever we need something, including the check. Servers here are paid a salary and gratuity is added to the check; there is no incentive to provide great service. I feel as if we should apologize for not being French or for at least not speaking good French. The food is nothing special—I have very high expectations when it comes to eating in Paris—but we do share a lovely bottle of Vognier.

The afternoon is topped off with a short stroll through Jardin du Palais Royal along with many others out soaking up the sun or enjoying a game of boll on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.

Tonight is Nuit Blanche (White Night) with many artists' exhibitions open all over the city, as well as some museums open all night with free entry. We'll see if any of us makes it.

For more pictures click here.

Prelude to Paris

2011-10-01T18:43:00.042-04:00

UPDATE: I was unable to link to Picasa for photos, so decided to wait until our return before posting about the trip—no one really wants to see all of someone else's trip photos anyway (imagine being trapped at a dinner party where the hosts bore you with slides of their recent trip, yawn). Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise as I barely had the energy to make notes before falling exhaustedly into bed at the end of the day.

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Despite my best efforts, and purchasing an Apple Photo Connector Kit for $29.99, I am unable to upload photos to the blog from my iPad2. The connector works fine, I'm able to easily transfer photos from my camera to the iPad, it's getting them into Blogger that's the problem. I even tried uploading all the photos to Picasa, which works, but getting them into Blogger is still a problem; the iPad2 just doesn't support it. This has diminished my love for the iPad slightly; after all, one of the reasons I bought it was for blogging while traveling [deep sigh].

So, here is my dilemma: do I write and upload the blog each night sans photos, knowing full well that without photographs reading about someone else's trip just isn't that interesting? I can always include a link (I think) to all the day's photos on Picasa and do an update with photos later, or do I just wait to upload all the postings complete with photos when I return? Hmmm...

If anyone knows of a way to work around this problem (which, after too much time wasted on searching the web, I was unable to find) please let me know.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the postings even without the photos.

Summer's Sweet Bounty

2011-08-17T20:00:00.030-04:00

One of my favorite things about summer is tomatoes. Growing up in Florida, we always went tomato picking at least once a year. We would eat them anyway imaginable; tomato sandwiches, sliced with onions in vinegar, and of course, in salad. My mom would also can them for adding to spaghetti sauce or chili throughout the year.

It wasn’t until I moved to Atlanta that I realized just how lucky I had been to have fresh tomatoes. Going to the supermarket I picked up “vine ripened” tomatoes still clinging to the vine and brought them home only to discover that while beautiful and near perfection in looks with their deep red, flawless skin, they lacked any semblance of flavor, none, nada. I tried for a few years to condition myself to eating these poor substitutes for the tomatoes back home, but finally gave up buying them in Atlanta entirely. Instead, every trip home had the potential for a side trip to the tomato field to pick as many as I could fit into my car. We would eat as many fresh as we could, sharing with friends and neighbors, and canning what was left.

A couple years ago I planted the first tomatoes in my tiny garden and have increased the space and number each year since—this year planting 10 in the front yard. And then, of course, there is the farm… working at Wolfscratch once a week has given me access to as many tomatoes as I could want, as well as a wide variety. Heirlooms are my favorites, with their funny shapes and sweet flavor, especially Cherokee Purples, which are wonderfully sweet (my daughter likens them to watermelon). These are closely followed by Yellow Pear tomatoes. I can eat these straight from the vine.

Last week I came home with a box of yellow and red Roma tomatoes and a large amount of Cherry and Yellow Pear tomatoes. I immediately began cooking the reds down to make a rich sauce, which I then froze in batches for future use, but I reserved the yellow for drying. Lucky to have a “drying” setting on my convection oven, I cut them in half and without any accoutrement put them on makeshift drying racks (two cooling racks set over the oven racks to make a cross grid) and left them for 12 hours at 140 degrees. This resulted in the most intensely flavorful tomatoes I’ve ever put into my mouth.

Next, I roasted the Cherries and Yellow Pears with a little salt and pepper, which I stored in olive oil in the refrigerator as well as preserving them with my handy “FoodSaver.” This has become my favorite kitchen appliance of late.

This is Flea Marketing Heaven

2011-08-08T22:21:00.097-04:00

I love flea markets. I was raised on them so I guess you can say I come by it naturally. Growing up in Florida it was almost a weekly thing for my mom, younger brother and I to head to the local flea market on a Saturday morning. So it's no wonder that the three of us wound up on a road trip for the “World’s Longest Yard Sale” again this year. You can find just about anything along the way, from antique furniture to pottery; crocks, jugs and old ceramic bowls (a particular favorite of mine) to all manner of things rustic and sometimes just plain rusty. Following Highway 127 along beautiful, winding roads from Alabama to Michigan, this is flea marketing heaven.

Last year the three of us piled into my Prius and while we were able to fit an amazing amount of stuff in the back along with our luggage, we soon realized that we needed a larger vehicle if we were going to take advantage of low prices on great pieces of furniture. This year we rented a 15 passenger van, taking out the two back benches to create space that longed to be filled.

Our Chariot

Hitting the road on Thursday morning—a day earlier than last year—we headed over to Gadsden, Alabama where we traveled up Lookout Mountain Parkway toward Mentone. Passing through Mentone last year we all agreed to and chose this for our first overnight this year. Mentone is very quaint, with small shops, a couple restaurants, a Victorian hotel and the Mentone Inn; a charming B&B and our accommodations for the evening. Each room has an in-suite bathroom, with claw-foot tub/shower, and the unusual feature of a tiny sink in your room. The rooms need a little bit of paint here and there, but the beds were comfortable and the veranda was the perfect place to spend the evening after a day of driving and searching flea market stalls.

For breakfast, the Inn serves a huge country breakfast. I’m talking scrambled eggs, sausage, grits, hash brown casserole, biscuits and gravy, fruit, and pancakes. We ate until we were full and then climbed back into the van and headed down Lookout Mountain toward Chattanooga.

We refused to let a second day of intermittent rain dampen our spirits and crossing 68 onto AL 176 we were excited to spot a huge flea market we remembered from last year. Parking out front was full, requiring a drive down a somewhat muddy lane to park in a large field. We were in the process of buying Amish jams, pickles and cheese when the wind picked up and it began to rain very hard. Waiting it out under the tent with the wind blowing a mist of rain inside, we found ourselves in the unusual situation of being cold in August. This is when Troy made the decision to make a run for the van and pull around to pick us up. Mom and I waited, and waited, the water slowly rising over our shoes. I had a sinking feeling. In all honesty I should have known from the moment we travelled that muddy drive into the field what would happen, but I ignored my better judgment, and sure enough we found him spinning the back tires in about six inches of mud, unable to move the van either forward or backward.

Once the rain let up I borrowed a couple pieces of plywood to lodge under the back tires. With me behind the wheel and Troy and my 76-year-old mother pushing from behind (really, go ahead and laugh, it was and still is hilarious), we prayed for the mud to give. Even with the help of a passerby who generously joined in the push unasked, we were unable to make any headway. Finally, the manager of the flea market offered to call a tow truck for us. We waited in the van as the rain began to come down hard again and worried about whether the tow truck would be able to rescue us… he wasn’t. But, thanks to a vendor with a Ford 4x4 Dually and the chain from the tow truck we finally escaped the grip of the mud and after $25 and kiss blown to the 4x4 owner from my mother, we were once again on our way.

Later over lunch we were able laugh about this. I got the giggles and couldn’t stop, which set my mother to laughing and there we were, three lunatics laughing hysterically. I made sure to park on very solid ground the remainder of the trip, which was much less dramatic. We each found a few “treasures”; for me this included a tiger oak chest of drawers, which I got for a steal at $70 and two chairs, both for $45. I also found a couple pieces of McCoy, Camark and Roseville pottery, along with a couple old crocks and pitchers, and some really great glasses.

Old crocks and bowls

McCoy, Roseville & Camark pottery

I love this funky oil lamp and the silent butler, and believe

it or not, I have been seaching for a glove mold (at a reasonable

price) for a while.

We made it safety to Lexington Saturday night and headed home on Sunday morning, logging just under 1000 miles in four days.

Interacting with Dolphins

2011-06-22T18:00:00.088-04:00

It’s been a while since I’ve posted; sometimes things happen that you can’t talk about, and yet they weigh so constant on your mind that it keeps you from writing about anything else.

On March 1st, my ex-husband Chip died (more on that later), and this past weekend Mr. Man, Amanda and I went to the Florida Keys to scatter his ashes in the ocean he so loved, on what would have been his 51st birthday. While we were there, we spent time with a group of people who were, up to that point, strangers to us. This could have gone any number of ways; it could have been awkward or uncomfortable and possibly even confrontational; it wasn’t. Far from it, by the end of the first day we felt we had known each other for years, we all just connected.

Mr. Man, Lynn, Me, Amanda & Peggy

On Saturday we spent the morning at the Dolphin Research Center on Grassy Key where Peggy (an ex-girlfriend of Chip’s) works. Peggy is a truly remarkable, kind and genuine person. I think we were all a little nervous to be meeting for the aforementioned reasons, but we all hugged each other and immediately felt it was going to be okay. Peggy showed us around and went out of her way to make sure we had a good time; even getting us a private session with some dolphins and a trainer. This was an incredible experience for us all. The closest we’ve ever been to a dolphin is watching them swim off the shore of St. George Island in the Gulf of Mexico. How many times have I fantasized about swimming out to them; I’m sure I’m not alone in that regard.

Santini

Santini & her trainer

The dolphins are so eager to learn and respond to the encouragement of their human audience. We applauded, and laughed, and smiled until our faces hurt. We watched as Santini, a 24-year-old female born at DRC, interacted with small children and did tricks for us; jumping through the air, standing tall in the water, and speeding backwards on her tail. She was awesome! Her trainer would ask her to imitate us and then directed us to spin around; Tini spun around. We bent our knees and bobbed up and down; Tini bobbed up and down. We could have watched her all day.

Santini watches to see what we will do next

Did you know that dolphins make all sounds through their blowhole? They only open their mouths when making sounds in imitation of humans. And you would never hear a dolphin call or make sounds above water in the wild.

During our private interaction, we met Merina and her seven-month-old son Flagler. If a dolphin isn’t enough to make you act like a drooling idiot, a baby dolphin certainly will. So cute! Everything the trainer asked Merina to do, Flagler would tag along and come back to the trainer for a reward of fish alongside his mother, squealing excitedly. He kept coming up to Amanda nose first and it was so hard for her to resist touching him as he was just inches away and so obviously wanted her attention, but the trainer asked that we refrain so that he can learn the proper way to approach a guest. Amanda showed great restraint and loved leaning down to talk to him almost nose-to-nose. We were able to touch Merina—they have a rather rubbery feel—as she passed under our hands. It was over all too quickly and we will forever be grateful to Peggy for adding beauty and friendship to what would have otherwise been a somber occasion.

Merina & Flagler

The center has a young male dolphin that was rescued from the BP oil leak in Louisiana—appropriately named Louie—injured and covered in oil. He was given only a 5% chance of survival but we watched as he worked with his trainer learning signals and seemed in excellent health. The center does great rehabilitation and research, and you can see just how much everyone loves these incredible animals.

Louie learns the ropes

Walking the Talk: How Many People Would Eat Meat if They Had to Kill it Themselves?

2011-05-07T22:00:00.001-04:00

Today Mr. Man and I headed out to Wolfscratch to help process chickens. “Why would we do this?” you might ask. Well, we’ve been on a path the last couple of years. Eating things in season—you can’t imagine how sick of carrots and root vegetables you can get during the winter months—that are locally (or at least regionally) grown and organic, and only buying/eating pasture-raised meat (this includes at restaurants, which means I order a lot of seafood when we go out unless we are at a farm-to-table restaurant). So, helping to process chickens was an opportunity and a test to our commitment to getting closer to our food that couldn’t be passed up.

Six-week old Cornish-Cross chickens

Wolfscratch recently acquired 150 Cornish-cross chickens (these are the same pasture-raised chickens you buy at supermarkets or organic food stores) and they needed to be “harvested” within a couple weeks; personally, I hate the term harvest when used in reference to killing animals. These birds are cross-bred to have the larger breast of one chicken and larger legs of another. They grow every fast; at 5 weeks—when they are ready to process—they are huge and walk with the wide-stanced lumber of a toddler. When I first saw them they were lumbering around the pasture looking for bugs, and I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness knowing their fate. But, I was committed. If I’m going to eat meat, I should be willing to kill it.

Please don’t think this means I looked forward to it, I didn’t. And I didn’t enjoy it, I can’t imagine anyone would.

After we set up our processing station with cones for holding the chickens, hot water bath, plucker (handmade by Michael of Blackwell Farm) and stainless steel tables for evisceration, we all looked each other in the eye, the unspoken question “Are we sure we want to do this?” hanging in the air, and took a deep breath before turning our attention to the lesson of killing chickens in the most humane way possible. I watched intently as I didn’t want to mess up when it came my turn to take the knife. I must confess, once the deed was done, tears welled up in my eyes and I had to walk away to collect myself before rejoining the others to continue the lesson. Needing to get it out of the way, I volunteered to kill the next set of birds. I whispered my thanks and killed them quickly and cleanly.

Handmade Plucker

We managed to get about 30 chickens processed in the next couple of hours, after which time we had had enough of killing and cleaning. On the way home I again felt a deep sadness and thought for the first time seriously about the benefits of vegetarianism. I believe everyone who eats meat should have to kill their own at least once. If we can’t do it, perhaps we shouldn’t eat meat. We have become too removed from our food, so much so that we shut our eyes and plug our ears to the horrors of industrial food production or CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feed Operations). I prefer to know where my food comes from, what it eats, and how it’s raised.

An Early Morning Trip to the Zoo

2011-04-30T22:33:00.000-04:00

Today is one of my favorite days of spring, the Zoo Atlanta Plant Sale. Every spring for the past four or five years, Mr. Man and I get up and out the door to be there at 8am. The plants are healthy, varied, and inexpensive.

We are working on some of the beds in the backyard and quickly filled up our wagon and several trays with Foxgloves, Hostas, Foamflowers, Peruvian lilies, and Coral Bells. We were home by 8:30am and quickly plotted out were each would go, and after breakfast I began digging.

Before

After: Foxgloves, Tiramisu Coral Bells, Caramel
Coral Bells & 'Dark Star' Foamflower

Before

After: Hosta 'June', Tiramisu Coral Bells, Caramel
Coral Bells & 'Dark Star' Foamflower

Making Room for Tomatoes

2011-04-24T18:38:00.000-04:00

The front yard has begun its metamorphosis. Ligustrum and holly bushes have been removed and loropetalums transplanted; I love the purple color of this low maintenance shrub. I allow mine to grow freely as I find their natural growth pattern a better fit to the casual feel of my front garden, but it can pruned into a hedge for a more formal look.

Cypress, knockout roses, smoke tree & rosemary

The rosemary benefited from a much needed pruning, although it is hard to tell it’s still so big. The sky pencil holly—the only one of three to survive—has been moved to a pot on the steps and the knock-out roses have been transplanted to the side of the porch. I hated doing such a hard pruning as they were in beautiful bloom, but it’s necessary for a healthy comeback. They cypresses are gone as well and now all’s that’s left to do is amend the soil and plant tomatoes!

Transplanted knock-out roses

New space for tomatoes

Former location of Loropetalums

Truthfully, there are a couple of other things to move but only for aesthetics and balance, and that can wait until later this summer. We also planted lavender along the front walk and creeping time in the front beds. If I’m successful in having a tree removed, there will be some hosta, ferns, and coral bells that will want to make their way to the back garden as well; making room for cucumber trellises.

Jamie and Michael fromt he co-op drove to Tennessee a couple weeks ago to a Mennonite farm to buy transplants and picked up a few heirloom variety tomato plants for me. I picked up a few more at Farmer D’s yesterday—Cherokee Purples and Brandy Wines—along with 10 bags for beautifully composted garden soil. All this rearranging gives me room for 10 tomato plants among the roses, herbs and flowers in the front yard. I can't wait.

The garden is a long way from where it was 13 years ago when we moved into this house…guess I’ll never really be done with it.

Where Did America's Money Go?

2011-04-22T16:12:00.000-04:00

Where did America’s money go? Let me just state right off the bat that it wasn’t to healthcare, education, children’s health insurance, Planned Parenthood, or any of the other so-called “entitlement” programs the GOP is raping and pillaging as part of their “stop spending” agenda. America’s money has disappeared into the pockets of major corporations in the form of tax breaks, rebates and refunds.

Top Ten Worst Tax Evaders
from Senator Bernie Sanders

1) Exxon Mobil made $19 billion in profits in 2009. Exxon not only paid no federal income taxes, it actually received a $156 million rebate from the IRS, according to its SEC filings. (Source: Exxon Mobil's 2009 shareholder report filed with the SEC here.)

2) Bank of America received a $1.9 billion tax refund from the IRS last year, although it made $4.4 billion in profits and received a bailout from the Federal Reserve and the Treasury Department of nearly $1 trillion. (Source: Forbes.com here, ProPublica here and Treasury here.)

3) Over the past five years, while General Electric made $26 billion in profits in the United States, it received a $4.1 billion refund from the IRS. (Source: Citizens for Tax Justice here and The New York Times here. Note: despite rumors to the contrary, the Times has stood by its story.)

4) Chevron received a $19 million refund from the IRS last year after it made $10 billion in profits in 2009. (Source: See 2009 Chevron annual report here. Note 15 on page FS-46 of this report shows a U.S. federal income tax liability of $128 million, but that it was able to defer $147 million for a U.S. federal income tax liability of $-19 million)

5) Boeing, which received a $30 billion contract from the Pentagon to build 179 airborne tankers, got a $124 million refund from the IRS last year. . (Source: Paul Buchheit, professor, DePaul University, here and Citizens for Tax Justice here.)

6) Valero Energy, the 25th largest company in America with $68 billion in sales last year received a $157 million tax refund check from the IRS and, over the past three years, it received a $134 million tax break from the oil and gas manufacturing tax deduction. (Source: the company's 2009 annual report, pg. 112, here.)

7) Goldman Sachs in 2008 only paid 1.1 percent of its income in taxes even though it earned a profit of $2.3 billion and received an almost $800 billion from the Federal Reserve and U.S. Treasury Department. (Source: Bloomberg News here, ProPublica here, Treasury Department here.)

8) Citigroup last year made more than $4 billion in profits but paid no federal income taxes. It received a $2.5 trillion bailout from the Federal Reserve and U.S. Treasury. (Source: Paul Buchheit, professor, DePaul University, here, ProPublica here, Treasury Department here.)

9) ConocoPhillips, the fifth largest oil company in the United States, made $16 billion in profits from 2006 through 2009, but received $451 million in tax breaks through the oil and gas manufacturing deduction. (Sources: Profits can be found here. The deduction can be found on the company's 2010 SEC 10-K report to shareholders on 2009 finances, pg. 127, here)

10) Over the past five years, Carnival Cruise Lines made more than $11 billion in profits, but its federal income tax rate during those years was just 1.1 percent. (Source: The New York Times here)

Now let’s imagine these tax evaders actually paid the current corporate tax rates, which according to Wikipedia are:

Taxable Income ($)	Tax Rate
0 to 50,000	15%
50,000 to 75,000	15%
75,000 to 100,000	$13,750 + 34% Of the amount over 75,000
100,000 to 335,000	$22,250 + 39% Of the amount over 100,000
335,000 to 10,000,000	$113,900 + 34% Of the amount over 335,000
10,000,000 to 15,000,000	$3,400,000 + 35% Of the amount over 10,000,000
15,000,000 to 18,333,333	$5,150,000 + 38% Of the amount over 15,000,000
18,333,333 and up	35%

This rate structure produces a flat 34% tax rate on incomes from $335,000 to $10,000,000, gradually
increasing to a flat rate of 35% on incomes above $18,333,333.

And, add back all those undeserved rebates and refunds…

Corporation	Taxable Income/Profit ($)	Tax ($)	Rebate/Refund ($)	Total ($)
Exxon Mobil	19,000,000,000	6,650,000,000	156,000,000	6,806,000,000
Bank of America	4,400,000,000	1,540,000,000	1,900,000,000	3,440,000,000
General Electric	26,000,000,000	9,100,000,000	4,100,000,000	13,200,000,000
Chevron	10,000,000,000	3,500,000,000	10,000,000	3,510,000,000
Boeing*	750,000,000	262,500,000	124,000,000	386,500,000
Valero Energy*	1,700,000,000	595,000,000	157,000,000 + 134,000,000	886,000,000
Goldman Sachs	2,300,000,000	805,000,000		805,000,000
Citigroup	4,000,000,000	1,400,000,000		1,400,000,000
CononcoPhillips	16,000,000,000	5,600,000,000	451,000,000	6,051,000,000
Carnival Cruise Lines	11,000,000,000	6,650,000,000		3,850,000,000
Total				40,334,500,000

*this is a little hard because I’m not sure what the taxable income would be on Boeing’s $30 Billion and Valero’s $68 Billion, so I’m calculating 25% of each of those numbers as profit.

That’s over 40 Billion dollars!! $40 Billion!!

This figure doesn’t even include repayment on the $800 Billion the Federal Reserve and U.S. Treasury gave to Goldman Sachs, the $2.5 Trillion they gave to Citigroup or the nearly $1 Trillion they gave to Bank of America. If these companies paid just 1% interest on those loans we’d be adding another $8 Billion, $25 Billion and $1 Billion respectively, bringing the total to more than $74 Billion toward paying down our national debt. So, why we are cutting much needed funding from the elderly and the poor while these corporations and their shareholders make money hand over fist and don’t pay their fair share?

Journey Ahead

2011-04-17T18:16:00.001-04:00

Mr. Man and I had a great time at the GAWL Charity Auction, which was held at Art Space International, an artist community (maybe one day I too will be able to afford studio space outside the home) and event space located on Huff Road.

Georgia Clay

Georgia Clay didn’t sell, but I didn’t take it too personally; there were lots of beautiful paintings that didn’t. I talked with a young woman later in the evening who told me she loved the piece but couldn’t afford it, so that gave me some comfort.

It was great to walk around and view the work of so many talented artists—I felt honored just to have one of my pieces included. And we bid on (so much fun!) and purchased an absolutely stunning piece by Georgia artist Victoria Jackson.

Journey Ahead

No Dreams, No Hope

2011-04-15T17:13:00.000-04:00

How does a Corporatist country maintain control over the people they exploit?

They take away their education; $35 Billion cut from Pell Grants over the next 10 years
They take away their homes; $605 Million cut from Public Housing
They take away their protection; $296 Million cut from local law enforcement funding
They take away their access to healthcare; $600 Million cut from community health centers and $3.5 Billion cut from children’s health insurance
They take away their ability to feed their families; $500 Million cut from Women, Infant and Children funding
They take away their mobility; $1 Billion cut from public transportation

No education, no jobs, no housing...
No food, no healthcare, no protection..
No dreams, no hope...

This doesn’t sound like my country: the proud, just America of my childhood, the America of possibilities of my parents and grandparents, but sadly, it is.

Jethro

2011-04-11T16:15:00.001-04:00

Jethro

I’m finding much to inspire me during my days at Wolfscratch Farm, especially the roosters. They are beautiful creatures with all their plumage and strutting around. This is Jethro (a Black Ameraucana) who, when the sun shines on him, has a teal sheen to his feathers. He guards over several hens and is stunning to look at. I took a little liberty with the colors; the painting looks much better in person, I couldn’t quite get the lighting right. One of these days I have to invest in some good lights.

http://www.kellyenzor.com/

Whose Idea Was This Anyway?

2011-04-05T18:57:00.024-04:00

In preparation for a (hopefully) final spring frost we built hoop houses over the raised beds today at Wolfscratch; where tender lettuces are planted, and arugula and spinach are just beginning to sprout. It was really windy and it took us some time to wrangle the large pieces of plastic into place. We tried a couple different methods of securing the plastic—we didn’t want to use stakes which would mean punching holes in the lightweight plastic and risk tearing. The first idea was to roll the extra plastic along the sides of the beds around bamboo, which was then to be secured with u-shaped garden stakes. Unfortunately, the first piece of plastic didn’t really have much extra, so we wound up using large pieces of cut wood. This worked well, and we managed to get a few beds done before deciding to give the bamboo another try.

Between the three of us we were able to get a pretty tight roll around the bamboo, but unfortunately the ground was soggy from all the rain and the stakes couldn’t get a strong hold. We needed bigger stakes, which, luckily, Jamie happened to have on hand. Then came the idea to use old hose in place of the bamboo as it is smaller and can be more easily staked. A good idea in theory. We got two beds done before we realized that the hose was a little too flexible and made getting a tight roll impossible. These were the only ones to come undone during a good gust of wind. By this time we were tired of doing and redoing, so we supported the hose with the wood we were using in the beginning. Oh well, trial and error right?

A Tiny Urban Farm in Downtown Atlanta

2011-03-21T18:30:00.063-04:00

I’ve put in a couple days a week at the Wolfscratch/Blackwell farms since beginning March 5th. It’s been a lot of fun and a lot of hard work, not that I mind. Thus far I’ve helped build deer fencing, learned to move the electric moveable fences for the goats, mucked the goats’ stall, turned the field with a shovel, and planted fruits and vegetables, among other things. Everything I’m learning on the farm I apply to my own tiny urban homestead—when we fertilize the vegetables there, I fertilize here. After pruning blueberry bushes there, I came home and applied the same techniques to my blueberries.

Goats at Wolfscratch Farm

Last week we dug up an overgrown strawberry patch at Blackwell Farm, and I was lucky to come home with several plants. Mr. Man and I amended the soil and carefully mounded the dirt around our new transplants. Hopefully, come June we will see results in the shape of sweet, red strawberries. We grow mostly in our backyard, where unfortunately there is no one location that gets a whole day of full sun, but we plant anyway. While we don’t get the yield we would were we lucky enough to have full sun, we do get a decent crop. The trick has been in learning what grows best in the area we have. This year we’ve planted lettuces (always a safe bet), lots of herbs, a variety of peppers, and eggplant. The onions, planted last fall, are doing well. And the border of lavendar has managed to not only survive in our clay soil, but is budding and soon we should be rewarded with beautiful purple flowers.

Expanded beds (additional 32 sq. ft.)

We have decided to dedicate more space in the front yard, which gets full sun between 10am and 5pm., to vegetables. Originally thinking this would be unsightly, we will work to keep and incorporate our existing perennials and roses among the vegetables—creating a true cottage garden. Foundation work and planning has to be done this year—removing some foundation shrubs and moving a few roses. This means we’ll probably only put tomatoes out front for now, but next year we are hoping to include carrots, beets and whatever else we can squeese in. We’ll have to be patient for now. Of course, this will be helped by the harvest I’ll be bringing home from Wolfscratch/Blackwell Farms.

Shrubs to be removed

The pride of the spring garden

I’m on the lookout for three hens to add to our little flock, which will bring us up to six (having lost Buffy during the winter). More on that later.

My Sunday on Wolfscratch Farm

2011-03-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

Want to learn about farming and help out small farmers at the same time? I’ve got two words for you Crop Mob. Crop Mob pairs farms with volunteers to help farmers get projects done. You may spend a few hours doing chores, or planting vegetables or whatever else might need to be done, kind of like a barn raisings of the past. I didn’t learn about Crop Mob until the end of the season last year and have been watching for notification of Crop Mobs this spring. That’s where I heard about the Salacoa CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and Wolfscratch Farm and their need for CSA Share Workers!

What a great idea! Helping out on the farm 8 hours a week in exchange for a share in the CSA? Sign me up! Which is exactly what I did. After a few conversations and emails with Jamie Rosenthal, owner of Wolfscratch Farm, I got up early on Sunday morning and headed to Jasper, Georgia for orientation. Five of us, mostly from Atlanta, showed up to help Jamie and business partner Michael Blackwell work toward their vision of turning this former horse farm into a thriving farm and CSA. It was cold and wet after an all-day rain on Saturday, but that didn’t lessen our enthusiasm. After introductions, we got started putting up deer fencing and clearing brush. There’s a lot to be done, weeding, planting, and later in the season harvesting. Jamie prepared us a delicious lunch of vegetable beef soup and Michael's homemade cornbread.

After lunch we were given a farm tour and explanation of chores: feeding the goats and chickens, cleaning water founts, mucking stalls, setting up electrical fencing, taking the goats out to pasture, etc. Later in the season we’ll be able to milk the goats, which will be a new experience for me; one I’m totally looking forward to. Then we made a quick trip over to Blackwell Farm to see Michael’s bees. I’ve wanted a bee hive for a while, but have been anxious about having one in my small backyard. Hmmmm.

I’m excited to be part of this and learn more about farming. Maybe one day soon I’ll have a small family farm of my own. Until then, I’m happy lending a hand to others.

By the way, you can find Crop Mob on Facebook.

Captain Jay J. Navin

2011-02-27T21:01:00.000-05:00

For our beautiful , generous and loving friend Mary...

Before we left for Manila, Mr. Man talked with his oldest and dearest friend Donna, who lives in Portland with her wife Mary. Upon learning that we intended to visit the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, Donna mentioned that Mary’s grandfather, Jay Navin, died in the Philippines during WWII and was interned there. When a serviceman died in the Philippines, their family was given the option of having the body returned to the United States or being buried among their comrades in the cemetery in Manila. Mary’s family chose to have Captain Navin lay at rest with his follow servicemen.

The cemetery, located in the former U.S. Army reservation of Fort William McKinley, is gorgeous; 152 acres of lush grass, trees and tropical plantings. The white Italian marble crosses, and Stars of David, stand out against green grass—that beautiful shade of green we often associate with spring here in the States. Peaceful and quiet, it is pristinely clean, manicured, and well maintained. As you look out over the landscape of crosses—17,202 of them—you are struck by the sheer beauty of them as they continue on and on and on against the backdrop of the city. This beauty, and the lives, honor, courage, and love of country they represent make a strong impact. You can only stand in silence and pray that you can live up to their sacrifice.

We are met by a Filipina woman (whose name I’m sad to admit that I can’t remember) who takes us on a tour and then finds Captain Navin in the database. Amazingly, she is able to take us straight to his grave marker, which is in the first row in this section of the cemetery. From a distance I can see the Star of David among the crosses with the name Jay J. Navin etched into the marble. Surprised, I turn to Mr. Man and ask if he knew that Mary’s grandfather was Jewish. He shakes his head no. Do we have the name right? This has to be him. Privately, we feel a connection to a man we never had the honor of meeting.

We jump out of the golf cart and snap a couple of quick pictures before our guide tells us to wait. She takes dark gray sand and rubs it into the etching so that the Captain Navin’s name stands out starkly again the white marble and then wipes away the excess with a wet cloth. We take several pictures and are pleased at finding this beautiful resting place.

Upcoming Art Auctions

2011-02-25T16:26:00.000-05:00

Even though I received lots of positive feedback about the work I have hanging at Stone Soup Kitchen, I didn’t sell anything. Art is just not a priority in people’s budgets now days. That's okay. It was a great experience, and I am donating one of the pieces to the Neighbor Charter School’s Right Brain Ball Silent Auction on March 5th. This is my second year donating to them. Last year's piece was purchased by Grace Burley, who is heading the committee this year. I was flattered when she asked if I'd be interested in donating again this year. It’s a great cause and a good way to get my work in front of people, so, of course, I said yes.

Signs of Change

I’m also donating a piece to the Georgia Association of Women Lawyers Foundation’s Annual Charity Art Auction, which is April 16th. With this auction, I can keep some of the proceeds. I had to have the piece framed, which was an unexpected out-of-pocket expense, but, if it will get my work in front of a larger audience, it will be worth it.

Georgia Clay

Mt. Pinatubo Pottery, Greenhills, and Leaving the Philippines

2011-02-04T22:00:00.059-05:00

Today, our last day in the Philippines, Mr. Man and I are heading to Greenhills looking for pottery made with ash from the 1991 Mt. Pinatubo eruption, which destroyed the homes, livelihood, and way of life of thousands of the Aeta tribe in Central Luzon. It is made by the people of Mt. Pinatubo through the EVA (Entrepreneur Volunteer Assistance) Charity Foundation. This pottery, along with other handcrafted products (all made at least in part with from Mt. Pinatubo itself – paper, ceramics and glazes of volcanic residue) are the sole source of financial support for the organization. Bob and Mari gave us a sugar/creamer set for Hanukkah and I love it so much that I want to get some for gifts, but it seems it is only sold in a few places or through fundraising events, and we soon learn that it was only sold in Greenhills at Christmas. We are bummed.

Greenhills is a flea-market-like mall with stall upon stall of designer wear (seconds, I think), fake designer handbags, and pearls, lots and lots of pearls. White, pink, gray, black. See a strand you like, but the length isn’t right? No problem ma’am. They will re-string them for you within a few minutes. Rico helps with negotiating a fair price—I must admit I have become more comfortable asking for the “best price” and shaking my head or offering less if I’m not happy with the price quoted. I look to Rico to see if I’ve gotten a good deal, conveyed by a slight nod or shake of the head.

Tonight Mari and Bob are throwing a party and we intend to stay up all night as we must leave for the airport at 3:00am. We help set up the bar, and I give Rico some tips as he is serving as bartender, something he hasn’t done before. There is plenty of good food (Susan’s lumpia being my favorite) and many interesting people to talk to; largely other ex-pats. Even so, I feel my energy flagging around 11:00pm and decide to rest some before our flight. I manage to dose some even though the sounds of the party float up to our room. At some point a guest comes in and turns on the light to retrieve her purse, she quietly apologizes when she sees me curled up with Milo on the bed. I drift off again when the door opens and the light is turned on. I see a young Filipina girl standing at the door. When she sees me, she says, “Oh, sorry” and then approaches the bed to pet Milo. I am too tired to engage her and she takes the hint and leaves. I get up and lock the door.

Soon it is time to leave and after saying our goodbyes and thanks to Mari, Bob drives us to the airport, which is already crowded at nearly 4:00am. You must go through security before you enter the airport and the line is very long—there is only one scanner at each entrance. Thankfully we are flying business class, which affords us being escorted to the front of the line. After checking in, we stand in a long line for immigration; here it doesn’t matter whether you are flying business or coach, there is a shorter line only for diplomats. After about 30 minutes we are headed to another, somewhat shorter line to pay our exit fee, and then go through security again. This time we must remove our shoes. There is one line for ladies and one for men, it is unclear why as they are side by side. We pop in the Sky Club to use the restrooms and sit for a few minutes before heading to the gate where we must go through security yet again.

Finally we are on the plane and headed for Nagoya where I am sure we will be forced to gather our things and depart the plane, go through security there, and wait to board the plane again. Perhaps then I will sleep.

Back in Manila

2011-02-03T22:02:00.120-05:00

Back in Manila with the traffic, exhaust, and chaotic driving, we spent today shopping at Tiendesita for gifts for family and friends. Tiendesita’s is a large, covered outdoor market with individual booths selling everything; clothes, furniture, dogs, fruits and vegetables, baskets, I mean everything. We wander from stall to stall looking for just the right things with Filipina’s calling “Yes ma’am” or “Sir, Ma’am” (pronounced mah’m—at first I thought they were saying “mom”) as we pass. Mari helps with negotiating good prices; eventhough prices are already low by American standards, it is expected that you will haggle for a better deal.

Lunch is at the huge outdoor food court. This is unlike anything in the States; all kinds of fish and seafood, rice, and local specialties out on display. We settle on grilled Tilapia and Bangus (Milk fish), a spicy seafood stew, fried calamari, yang chow (a yellow fried ice), and Laing (a green cooked with coconut milk). Everything is delicious and we eat until we are full. Only Bob and Mr. Man have room for Suman sa ibos (sweet rice in banana leaves).

After lunch Mari has arranged for the two of us to have facials, and we walk to Shangri-La Mall for a manicure/pedicure before our treatments. The nail spa is lovely; white couches with footrests and loungers, with lots of pillows. The white uniformed attendants bring individual foot baths to you for a soak—they lift your feet into and out of the baths—and then lay your feet on white towels on the footrest. Nail polish colors are presented to you from a tray and they are “happy” to try different colors for you. While one attendant gives you a pedicure, another does your manicure, accompanied by a hand/arm and foot/leg massage. Not once do we feel rushed; it quiet, calm and serene. So unlike what I’m used to (where the attendants chat to each other in Vietnamese—don’t you sometimes get the impression they are talking about you?—and seem in a hurry to get you finished so they can get to the next customer). All this takes about an hour-and-a-half and we are late for our facials.

At the spa facility I’m shown to a very small, cramped room at the back and asked to remove my top and don a robe. My technician puts on latex gloves to apply the cleanser (I have never had a facial with gloves before, and must admit I didn’t like the feel of the gloves on my face) and a scrub. Next is a diamond peel; a small suctioning instrument with an abrasive padding is drawn across your face which removes dead skin cells, after which a mask is applied to your face for 20-30 minutes. During this I’m left alone in the dark room to relax; except there is no blanket and it is cold. I’m happy when the time is up, the mask is removed, and it is time to leave with instructions not to wash my face for at least four hours.

We meet Mr. Man, Bob and the kids for sushi at Samu Sam’s, where a hot cup of tea is just the thing to warm us up. Dinner is ended with a visit to Golden Spoon for frozen yogurt.

Leaving Palawan

2011-02-02T01:42:00.024-05:00

It is our last day at El Nido and we have no plans other than relaxing on the beach and perhaps doing some snorkeling nearby. It will be hard to leave this gorgeous place, yet I am ready to head home soon; I miss Amanda, and Marley & Stella, and our friends (and Mexican food!). It is very overcast today, which makes it easier as well. We must check-out at noon and leave the island at 3:00pm. Unfortunately we can’t get a late check-out as some other lucky individual needs the room.

The staff comes to sing us off—"Leaving on a Jet Plane"—and gathers around to wave us off from the dock, continuing to wave and sing until the boat is out of sight.

Heading back to the airport in the Jeepnee, I catch a couple shots of El Nido Town and the village through the open window.

Our air transport service to and from El Nido, Island Transvoyager Inc (ITI) is the first airline in the Philippines to offer a carbon offset to passengers. For a maximum of Ph200 ($4.40) we are able to offset the carbon dioxide emission produced by our round trip flight as well as support tree-planting activities to the Watershed Rehabilitation Project of the Municipality of El Nido. Mr. Man and I make a Ph1000 donation. We are so impressed with the green initiatives of the island and feel this is little to ask in return for the beauty we experienced this past week.

To see more pictures, check out my Picasa Web Album
https://picasaweb.google.com/Kelly.Enzor/LeavingPalawan?feat=directlink

Island Hopping in the Philippines

2011-02-01T20:55:00.042-05:00

This morning we are both up before the sun, and move to the daybed on the balcony to lazily watch the sun come up. We enjoy a late breakfast—I have fallen into a route of smoked fish, cheese, croissant, and fruit (usually dried apricots and prunes)—before we are off island hopping.

Our first stop is Vigan or "Snake" Island, so named for the curving sandbar that connects this tiny island to the mainland at low tide. There is a short hike up to the high point where we discover a lovely view of the entire Bacuit Bay.

View from top of Snake Island

On the boat we introduce ourselves to a Filipino family from Chicago and have an interesting morning getting to know them. Both Renee and Susan were raised in the states, but still have family in the Philippines. They are accompanied by their two adult daughters and son-in-law. There is also a young Japanese couple who have happened to be on some of the same excursions as us. They seem very happy; always smiling and taking photos while making funny faces. They are so cute, and I enjoy watching them as they seem to be having such a great time. Another family on the boat is from Mexico City who have been living in Shanghai for the past five years. With them is their six year old daughter who is fluent in Spanish, English and Chinese.

Our second stop is Cudugnon Cave, where we crawl through a small opening in the limestone cliff into a large cave. There are many sparrows here, but unlike their cliff dwelling cousins their nests are made of a mixture of saliva and grass—instead of pure saliva, which is so sought after for making bird’s nest soup—and so their nests are not hunted. Chito tells us that there were human bones discovered here from people who hid in this cave during WWII; creepy. We all take photos of each other and Chito even takes a group shot of the “Americans.”

Entrance/exit to the cave

The Americans

Next we are off to Pinasil, a hollowed out rock with a small cavern accessible by dingy or kayak—as we are in an outrigger, we can only pull up to the entrance for photos—but, today it is even to choppy for those.

We are back at Miniloc for lunch and a bit of relaxing and then at 3:30pm we are off for snorkeling at Pagugaban Island. There is a strong current today and it is suggested that those of us who are not strong swimmers settle for snorkeling along the shoreline, which is where we head. There are plenty of beautiful fish to watch, but the coral here is like a bone yard, broken pieces blanket the floor of the bay. Even so we have a good time.

On the boat ride back to Miniloc we strike up a conversation with a young American couple, David and Lindsey, who are living in Beijing. Later when our sunset cruise is cancelled we meet up with them at the bar and chat about what it is like living in China, the pollution, and communism. They tell us that the pollution is so bad that they wear hepa masks wherever they go—David even shows us a picture of his filters after a week; picture a hardboilded egg cut in half, but what would be the yolk are somwhat larger dark spots of pollution—and have recently bought a filter for their apartment.

A large group arrived this afternoon for a class of 1961 Medical School Reunion. While we are talking with Lindsey and David, I notice that an older gentleman keeps looking at us. Before long he approaches us and we soon learn he is Jewish—no matter where you are in the world Jews just seem to find each other—and is here with his wife who is part of the reunion. He lives in San Diago, but spent 25 years in Durham and is surprised to find that we are from Atlanta, as he doesn’t think we have accents (this is the first time I have ever been told that).

We invited David and Lindsey to joy us for dinner and share a bottle of wine, and continue our talks of China and the United States. They both express a desire to move back, but with the current economy they have to stay in China. David is in the symphony and Lindsey is a music teacher at the British School.

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One of the Coolest Experiences of My Life

2011-01-31T21:05:00.239-05:00

Those of you who know me may not believe this, but I swear it is true, I have risen early every day since we have been in the Philippines; most days before 6:00am. This morning we are sitting on the balcony, the sun has risen and we are deciding on our activities over the next couple of days. Mr. Man wants to relax—interpretation: sit on the beach and do nothing—and I want to snorkel, island hop, hike, snorkel some more… you get the picture. We compromise by making sure there is plenty of relaxation time in-between activities. I happen to look back toward the beach hoping to spot a small egret that has been fishing in the shallow water the last couple of mornings, when I see a couple of monkeys—yep, your read that right, monkeys—on the beach! I rush to grab my camera and take a couple quick shots before heading out for a closer look.

This guy parked himself between me and the females/babies
and I thought, "No problem dude, message received."

After breakfast we snorkel at MIR and watch the Jack Fish being fed from underwater. I bought a disposable underwater camera yesterday afternoon, but won’t be able to post those pictures until after having them developed—does anyone still develop film anymore? There are plankton in the water this morning, which sting my arms (and even my ears) slightly. We hang out at the beach and then at 1:00pm we take a boat over to Lagen (another El Nido Resort) for a late lunch and hike.

Lagen Island Resort

Lagen is beautiful, shaded, tropical, and lush; it is much newer than Miniloc and has a pool, but little beach and the view is nowhere near as awe inspiring. The lunch buffet is the same: some sort of sushi, soup (today Hot and Sour), salad, build your own stir-fry, grill (hot dogs and hamburgers), rice, etc. After lunch we go on the nature hike that begins behind the resort, up, down, up again, then down, to the beach on the other side of this small island.

Banana Palm

Thankfully there is a rope railing the entire trail as some areas are pretty steep and the rope is useful for hoisting yourself up or steadying yourself when going down—did I mention that I am doing this in flip flops?— we have hopes of seeing some wildlife along the way. The thing of most interest are the Ceiba Pentandra (sometimes called Silk Cotton Tree) trees. The roots of these trees are huge and flat rather than round.

Ceiba Pentandra

I know this picture is horribly out-of-focus, but I wanted to
show the height of the roots of this tree

There is not much wildlife, although something runs down the mountain in front of us, a monitor lizard perhaps. This begins to seem like our only “near” sighting when I happen to look up and see a monkey in a tree over our heads. I’m equally excited about this “natural” sighting as I was at seeing the monkeys on the beach this morning, who were looking for food—one of the MIR staff members told us that sometimes the monkeys will jump on your table looking for a handout.

Long-tailed Macaque Monkey
(Lagen Nature Trail)

The trail ends at a private paradise…there is no one else there except a Filipino whose job it is to radio Lagen that we are ready to be picked up by boat and transported back to the resort. We take a quick dip to refresh ourselves. There are two turtle nests on this beach which are being monitored and are covered with chicken wire cages to keep the monitor lizards from digging up and eating the eggs.

From here to eternity...

We take a quick dip in the pool at Lagen Resort and enjoy a beer before being picked up and taken back to Miniloc.

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Swimming with Jack Fish

2011-01-30T18:05:00.017-05:00

It is 6am, and we are sitting on the balcony watching the sky change colors as the sun rises. There is a delicious breeze that rustles through the straw of the thatched roof, which combined with the gentle lapping of waves and the piping of birds, creates an early morning symphony. It is a wonderful start to the day.

Sunrise at Miniloc

After breakfast I went snorkeling at the reef in front of MIR. They feed a school of Jack Fish here each day at 8:45am. I am snorkeling along the rim of the reef when the first of these big fish (approximately 2’) swims passed me, followed closely by another, and another, and another; all heading for the feeding area. They swim around me close enough to touch. I can only describe it as awesome. Bob, Mari and the kids join me just before the feeding starts. Once the feeding starts I back away a little so as not to be in the middle of the frenzy—they rush to get to the fish heads and pieces first, sometimes jumping slightly out of the water.

Male Jack Fish

Yesterday when Zoe swam with the Jacks, she got out of the water with this incredible smile on her face and was literally speechless for a few minutes, only nodding her head and grinning ear-to-ear when asked if she liked it. Bob's face had the same expression when he got out of the water this morning.

Bob after swimming with Jack Fish

Bob, Mari and the kids are leaving today—Mr. Man and I have extended our stay until Wednesday afternoon—so we just enjoy hanging out on the beach with them.

To see more pictures, view my Picasa Web Album

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Surely This Must Be Heaven

2011-01-29T22:39:00.110-05:00

We rose early this morning and spent time on the balcony before joining the fray of vacationers. The Stephenses went scuba diving and we were hanging out with Zoe on the beach in front of Miniloc Island Resort (MIR), when Zoe shouts “lizard!” We turn to see a water monitor lizard about 3’ long head-to-tail (they can get as big as 8’). I quickly grabbed my camera and ran down the beach to get a couple of shots of him.

Water Monitor Lizard

Mr. Man took Zoe kayaking in front of the resort and then we just lazed about the beach. Later, we will head over to Entalula for a picnic lunch and some alone time.

Zoe and David kayaking

Later…

A warm breeze dances over my skin as I sleepily sway back and forth in a straw hammock. We have finished our lunch of smoked tuna, salad, and grilled pork, squid, and shrimp (apparently, Filipinos do not believe in vegetables), as well as fruit for desert, and are now napping in the shade—to be honest, Mr. Man is lying on a lounger in the sun, but I am more concerned with the long-term effects of the sun on my skin.

Picnic lunch at Entalula

The water here is achingly beautiful; clean, crystal clear, turquoise in the shallows meeting the sapphire blue of deeper waters... surely this must be heaven.

At 2:00pm we are back on the boat and headed for “small lagoon” for kayaking and snorkeling. Once we are in the water Mr. Man informs me that this is his first time kayaking—this is soon apparent and I think to myself “he is going to capsize us.” We don’t take our camera, so no pictures; we enter the small lagoon through a narrow opening in the cliff wall; it is quiet and we take a moment to just soak it in. The water is turquoise green and clear, and we are surrounded by shear limestone cliffs where vegetation grows from crevices in the limestone.

On our way back to the boat to retrieve our snorkeling gear, I ask Mr. Man to try and keep his body centered in the boat as I can feel him leaning… can you see where I’m going with this? We almost make it back to the boat when I feel us begin to tip, I try to correct us by leaning in the opposite direction, but to no avail, we are over—thank God I left the camera in the boat!

The snorkeling is good; MIR even had a magnification mask for Mr. Man. We saw several species of fish—parrot fish and clown fish nestled in the waving anemone—and coral, large blue starfish and long-spine sea urchins.

From here we went on a quick tour of “big lagoon” and spotted a White-Breasted Sea Eagle on our way back to the resort.

Entering Big Lagoon

Big Lagoon

200,000,000 year old limestone

Exiting Big Lagoon

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Palawan: A Study in Beauty, Relaxation* and Preservation

2011-01-28T22:23:00.269-05:00

Four-thirty in the morning comes very, very early. We are off to El Nido on the island of Palawan and have an early morning flight, and have to leave the house by 5:30am. When we get to the hanger, Zoe and I go immediately to check out the plane; there is a technician turning the propeller and I joke with Zoe that he is winding up the rubberband (remember those rubberband airplanes from when we were kids?).

Our plane to El Nido

It is a 75 minute flight to El Nido. We land on a hard dirt runway and are greeted by singing when we step off the plane. After a brief introduction to Palawan, we are loaded into a Jeepnee and head to the port—via El Nido Town.

Welcoming Committee

El Nido Airport

El Nido Town

El Nido Town (love the chicken crossing
the road in the background)

We take a large outrigger to El Nido and again are greeted by singing at the dock of Miniloc Island Resort, and are treated to a wonderful fruit drink.

Miniloc Island Resort

MIR Welcome Committee

It is incredibly beautiful here; we have a cottage on stilts over the water with a small balcony equipped with daybed. The view is to die for.

Our home for the next three days

Ecology is very important to Palawan; they ask that you leave nothing other than your foot prints and take nothing (no coral or shells) other than pictures and memories, which we are happy to oblige. Ecology awareness is at a high. To protect the megadiversity of this beautiful island, only eco-friendly programs are allowed by tourist establishments. Serious efforts are undertaken to preserve this last ecological frontier, with more protected areas than any other province in the Philipines. The entire province was declared a Fish and Wildlife Sanctuary in 1967. At El Nido, their motto is G.R.E.E.N. Guard, Respect, Educate, El Nido. Each guest is given an eco-bag, and are asked to place in it anything they find on their excursions that isn't biodegradable.

On the boat ride over our Activities Coordinator, Grace told us about the various activities of the resort, but today is all about relaxing, and we lay on loungers under cabanas. We have scheduled spa treatments for later in the day.

Later...
(*warning: this post contains descriptions of embarrassing self-indulgence)

My spa treatment begins with a Balinese Foot Bath. Sitting on the balcony, my feet are submerged in warm water in a large wooden bowl to which is added rose oil and rose pedals that are rubbed over the legs and feet, followed by a wash with rose soap and rinsed. Following this is a salt scrub. The only time I have felt more decadent was when I had a body polish in Napa.

Next I lay face-down on a mylar sheet and am slathered with water lily gel, I roll-over, which is tricky with the sticky gel on my backside, and am slathered again, before being wrapped in the mylar and covered with a large, thick towel. Almost immediately your body heat creates a warm cocoon. After 15 minutes, I’m requested to shower before my aromatherapy massage, which is just the right pressure, and I am soon in a semi-conscious state.

At the end of the massage is a honey-cucumber facial which is lovely; until the end when they place thinly-sliced, ice-cold cucumber slices over your entire face and neck, including your eyes. I thought my eyeballs would freeze they were so cold—not that I am complaining, this was without a doubt two-and-a-half hours of pure indulgence.

To view more pictures, visit my Picasa Web Album:
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Shopping

2011-01-27T21:18:00.016-05:00

Up early this morning for a buffet breakfast before heading back to Manila. The hotel (Taal Vista Hotel) serves just about anything you can want: garlic rice, tiny fried fish, conchee (porridge), chicken sausage, salad, meat & cheeses, as well as more traditional (by American standards) foods such as cereal, fruit, yogurt, omelets made to order, bacon, and pancakes.

We stop off for fresh pineapple and corn along our route to Manila, before joining the morning commuters in the city.

Mari shops for pineapple

Jackfruit & pineapples

Local bananas

Later in the day Bob drives Mr. Man and I to the Shangri-la Mall; I am sunburned—I know, I know, sunscreen—from our hike yesterday and need to find a light-weight, long-sleeved shirt for our weekend at El Nido. On our way into the mall we are stopped by security and have to open the trunk for the bomb-sniffing dog. There are police everywhere here; on the streets with what look to my inexperienced eyes like assault rifles, in the malls—you must open your purse/bag to a quick look-see before entering each store and sometimes have a wand passed over your body—always at parking garages or on your way into a residential community—where they walk around your vehicle with a mirror to look under your car—it is somewhat unnerving.

The mall is huge, five stories, and a bit overwhelming. Really, you need a map to negotiate your way around. There are clothing stores, of course, but also medical/dental practices, furniture and electronics, and a super-sized supermarket; the epitome of one-stop shopping.

Susan makes us curry for dinner, which is delicious. Then, Mr. Man and I have another massage scheduled—you can get a massage here for around $16 per person for one-and-a-half hours, so we are determined to get several—this time deep tissue. I am sure I will be sore tomorrow.

Taal Volcano

2011-01-26T22:05:00.128-05:00

Pineapple fields, Batangas, Philippines

We got up early this morning and headed to Tagaytay and Taal Volcano. It was great to get out of Manila—away from the traffic—and to breathe some fresh air. We took an outrigger from Taal Yacht Club (I am laughing as I type this because a Yacht Club by American standards it is not) across Taal Lake. On the way over Mr. Man turned to me and said "I was picturing a much bigger boat." I admit I too was thinking the boat would be along the lines of a ferry. We are such Americans.

Our transportation to Taal Volcano

The lake was very choppy and by the time we reached the island my shorts were soaked. We were met by villagers wanting to sell us water, hats, masks and/or horse rides up to the crater. We opted to hike the one-and-a-half miles. It was very dusty (especially on the way back down, and I had to turn my back into the wind several times to avoid getting sand in my eyes—even so, I felt like my teeth had been sandblasted), and I regretted not buying a mask.

For at least half of the way we were followed by “guides” on horses who took every opportunity to make sure we didn’t want to ride up; they were very annoying and we were grateful when they finally turned around and left us in peace. While permanent residence on the island is prohibited, poor families have settled there, living in huts with no electricity or running water.

Our Entourage

View from Taal Volcano

The views from the top were breathtaking. The crater is large with a green sulfuric lake and in several areas you can see the steam being released. Taal Volcano is famous for having an island in a lake, on an island in a lake, on an island in the Pacific Ocean. The island was evacuated in August 2008 due to volcanic earthquakes accompanied by rumbling sounds; the last eruption was in 1977.

Taal Lake and dormant volcano

On the rim of Taal Volcano

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Intramuros: The Old Walled City

2011-01-25T18:00:00.081-05:00

Today we visited the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, a beautiful memorial to WWII veterans and 36,286 servicemen missing in action, including 21 Medal of Honor recipients. The memorial, completed in 1960 consists of a small devotional chapel and two hemicycles faced with travertine limestone. There are eleven burial plots arranged in concentric circles around the memorial with 17,097 white marble headstones (consisting of 16,933 Latin crosses, 164 Stars of David, and 3,740 unknowns), which were quarried and fabricated in Italy. Twenty-five maps of marble and tinted concrete depect the battles of WWII. Meticulously maintained by the U.S. Government this is a beautiful place to rest.

In the afternoon we explored Intramuros or the old city, which is surrounded by a stone wall. Once inside the wall, we were accosted by those wishing to take us on guided tours of the city. We decide on a horse-drawn "carriage"—I use that word very loosely as there is nothing romantic about it or the city, which is congested and dirty—for an hour tour. Our driver, a young Filipino in his early twenties gave us the most rudimentary of tours; pointing out landmarks with names and dates, but not much other information. I couldn’t help taking pity on him as he did try to engage us, but tourism is not a big industry in Manila.

Lunch at Market Market

Intramuros was divided into four barrios, San Antonio, San Gabriel, San Carlos, and San Luis and was home to a rich and educated class of Spanish Filipinos called ilustrados who built grand houses. While World War II destroyed all residental buildings, Casa Manila, is a replica built from photos and archival building plans, recreating the lifestyle of the ilustrados through antique furniture, paintings, light figures, and other objects de art. Our guide asked if we wanted to go inside and accompanied us. At each room there was a sign in Tagalic and English, which he proceeded to read to us before hurrying us on to the next room. The house was built in the Spanish colonial style c. 1850. All the walls on the ground floors are made of adobe stones quarried from Bulacan. The uppermost floor consists of the living quarters and are made of wood, since wood is lighter than stone and is less hazardous during earthquakes. Unfortunately no photos were allowed other than on the patio.

Patio of Casa Manila

Next we stopped to explore San Agustin Church, the first religious structure built on Luzon Island by the Spaniard Juan Macias. Completed in 1607 in the Spanish Colonial era, it is the oldest church still standing in the Philipppines. It was looted by British forces in 1762 during the Seven Years' War and was the only public building left standing after Manila was hit by an earthquake in 1863. It was named a National Historical Landmark by the Philippines Government in 1976 and designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1994. There are fourteen side chapels and a trompe l'ce ceiling which was painted by Italian artists Cesare Alberoni and Giovanni Dibella in 1875. We were surprised to find paintings from the 18th Century hanging in the courtyard corridors; left to the exposure of the humidity they are bubbled and faded.

San Agustin Church

Passing a small garden, Bob asked our driver to stop and he waited while be briefly stepped inside. Within the garden is Baluarte de San Diego, one of the oldest stone fortifications in Intramuros. It was designed and built by Jesuit priest Antonio Sedeño from 1586 to 1587. Began as a circular fort called Nuestra Señora de Guia, it was renovated to join the walls of the city in 1593, afterwhich it fell into disrepair. A new baluarte was completed between 1653 and 1663, which housed a foundry during the 18th century. It was breached by British forces in 1762 and restored, but was again damaged in 1863, this time by an earthquake. It was then condemned by the Spaniards and totally distroyed during the Battle of Manila in 1945.

Baluarte de San Diego

The traffic in Manila can only be described as chaotic; congested with cars, buses, Jeepnees—an open-sided extended Jeep that sits 10-12 people on benches that run the length of each side—side-car bicycles/motorcycles, and motorcycles. There is no regard for lanes; where there are three lanes, they make into five. The rule seems to be: if the nose of your vehicle is in front, you have the right of way. Cars drive impressively close to each other and motorcycles and bicycles fill the gaps in-between. It is no wonder Bob and Mari have a Filipino driver.

One each side of the road are shanty villages—poverty is rampant. I tried to capture some of the visual impact; although shooting from a moving car was a challenge. People stand in the middle of the roads selling all manner of goods or sit beside the road selling single cigarettes.

On the way home our taxi driver tells us of a bus bombing in Makati where we were earlier in the day for lunch. It was a terrorist attack; a bomb detonated by a cell phone. Bob calls to check on the kids, whose school is not far from the bombing site. Four people are dead and fourteen wounded; as of yet, no group has taken responsibility.

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A Peaceful Beginning

2011-01-24T23:37:00.043-05:00

I woke this morning to the sound of birds outside my window, and quietly got out of bed so as not to wake Mr. Man. It is 6:30am—those of you who know me well, know that I never, ever get out of bed this early—Bob, Mari and the kids had already left, but Susan (their housekeeper/cook) made me a wonderful breakfast of garlic fried rice, corned beef (like none I have ever eaten in the States) and mango, and we got acquainted while I ate.

Sitting on the patio with Milo (their Carolina Dog)—who only needed a couple of seconds before jumping on me with a lick of hello—surrounded by lush tropical plants, it is quiet except for the chirping of the birds, quiet laughter off in the distance, and the occasional bark of a dog. The morning temperature is mild and comfortable, and I’m looking forward to exploring the city and island.

We spent the day recovering from jetlag, but briefly went to Tiendesitas, an outdoor market selling everything from clothes to furniture to dogs—kept in cages much like old American pet shops. This was distressing for me as many are not well kept, needing baths and grooming. Bob tells me that many Filippino’s get dogs and then keep them in crates. This only adds to my distress.

Mari arrived home for lunch with a friend of hers from high school in Galveston who also happens to be visiting the Philippines with his wife. Susan again cooked us a wonderful meal, and even though we all told her how delicious it was, she privately told Mari that we must not have liked it for we didn't eat very much. Did I mention that she cooked a lot of food? We are not used to eating such large meals in the middle of the day. After lunch we headed off to The International School of Manila (which both Noah and Zoe attend) for a tour and to catch a few minutes of Zoe’s gymnastics practice before heading back to the house. Mari has scheduled a couple’s massage for Mr. Man and I if we can stay awake that long…bliss!

View from the International School of Manila

Heading to Manila

2011-01-24T03:00:00.015-05:00

We are on our way. After Delta changed our departure time to 26 minutes later than we originally booked, we were a little anxious about making our connection in Detroit. Luckily the gate for our flight to Manila was directly across the terminal aisle as they were already boarding as we came off the jetway.

As we readied for the runway in Detroit it was snowing and we needed to be de-iced. So the flight attendants offer us cocktails and we make the best of it. Finally, the plane begins to back out of the gate, only to be stalled by slipping in the fluid used to de-ice the plane. No matter which direction the pilot tried to go (forward or backward) the wheels spun, but couldn’t get any traction and the smell of exhaust filled the plane. To the rescue comes another vehicle to help push us out of the liquid and we are able to move to the line of planes waiting for take-off; an hour behind schedule.

We had a lovely dinner by airline standards, several glasses of wine, a couple of movies and nodded off to sleep around midnight only to be woken around 4:00am in Tokyo (7:00pm local time) to drop-off and pick-up passengers—this was not something we were made aware of when we purchased our tickets—and our made to gather our belongings and depart the plane. “But we are going on to Manila,” I complained. No matter, we must get off and go through security. To say I was annoyed would be mild. An hour later we are back on the plane.

We reached Manila around 1:00am local time, debarked, and waited in line at immigration.

Walking out of the airport into the warm tropical air I was reminded of Florida. We are lucky it is the cool season and in the low 80’s. Our friend, Bob is waiting with the car and quickly loaded us up and headed for our home for the next two weeks.

MLK Had a “Dream” but Sarah Palin Was Not Part of It!

2011-01-18T12:52:00.001-05:00

Reposted with permission from Malia Litman’s Blog

Yesterday was Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. In typical Sarah Palin fashion, the Empress used Facebook to bring attention to herself, by using someone else. We have seen her use her children when it suits her purposes. We have seen her use charitable organizations dedicated to the Right to Life Movement, and Special Needs children for her financial advantage. She has even worked hard to compare herself to Ronald Reagan, even though there is no comparison. However the use of Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy is morally offensive, and ethically reprehensible. MLK Jr. was the antithesis of Sarah Palin.

Suggesting that her principles were comparable to those of this noble leader, Palin began her Facebook post with a quote from MLK Jr.:

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

http://www.facebook.com/notes/sarah-palin/dr-martin-luther-king-jr/490074263434.

In 2008 Americans were not silent about what mattered to them. We voted for Barack Obama and Joe Biden, and against John McCain and Sarah Palin. It mattered to America then and it matters to us to an even greater extent now. By Nov. 4, 2008, we knew that if Sarah Palin ever became the Vice President of the United States it would be a disaster of epic proportions. That was before she suggested solving the Gulf Oil Spill by building dikes, before she couldn’t name a single founding father, before she displayed her ignorance about whether North or South Korea was our ally, before she criticized the President for using a teleprompter even though she had written on her hand, and before she demonstrated her ignorance by using words like “refudiate”, “mandation,” and “repill.” That was before she resigned as Governor of Alaska having finished only half of her term, before she declared that Ronald Reagan went to college in California, before she said in a speech that Trig was born in Anchorage, before she traveled by private plane on her “bus tour” for Going Rogue, and before she proclaimed that the Empress was not wearing any clothes in her book America by Heart. That was before she defended Dr. Laura’s use of the N-word 11 times on national radio. That was before she appeared with Glenn Beck, the “lying sack of dog mess” at the Restoring Honor Rally, and before she received recognition for telling the “Biggest Lie of the Year” by PolitiFact for her Facebook post regarding Death Panels. http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/article/2009/dec/18/politifact-lie-year-death-panels/.

Given all we know about Sarah Palin we refuse to begin the end of our lives by becoming silent about things that matter. It matters to all Americans that we elect the most competent, educated, intelligent, ethical, savvy leader to guide us out of this period of despair. Sarah Palin is not that leader.

In case there had been any question before, Palin has recently proved, beyond “refudiation,” that a Palin Presidency would be the end of America as we know it. The tragedy in Arizona, and Palin’s response to it, are the most revealing indicators of the potentially disastrous consequences of a Palin Presidency. Important consideration to remember are:

1. Palin “targeted” Congress men and women who voted for nationalized health care.

2. Palin incited violence with phrases such as “man-up.” http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2010/10/18/palin-to-gop-man-up

3. Palin became associated with the phrase “don’t retreat, just reload.” She used this phrase in speeches (e.g. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSyZt1v128w), posts on Facebook (http://us4palin.com/gov-palin-dont-retreat-reload/) , and even in her TLC television show, Sarah’s Palin’s Alaska. (http://tlc.discovery.com/videos/sarah-palins-alaska-bristols-skeet-shoot.html).

(picture from conservatives4palin web site)

4. The Biggest Lie of the Year was Sarah Palin’s “Death Panels” Facebook post regarding nationalized health care. http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/article/2009/dec/18/politifact-lie-year-death-panels/. These words were used to incite people even though they were proven to be a total fabrication.

5. Even after the vote on nationalize health care was concluded in March of 2010, and members of Congress became targets for violence, Palin didn’t change her rhetoric or map with targets. Representative Steny Hoyer, the House Majority Leader in March of 2010 reported that at least 10 House members had raised concerns about their personal security after the health care vote. Mr. Hoyer characterized the cases as “serious.” At least two congressional offices were vandalized, including that of Louise Slaughter of New York, and Gabrielle Giffords. Louise Slauther also reported threats of sniper attacks against lawmakers and their families. Authorities in Virginia investigated a cut propane line to an outdoor grill at the home of the brother of Representative Tom Perriello of Virgina, after the Representative’s address was mistakenly listed on a Tea Party Web site. Representative Bart Stupak of Michigan also reported receiving threatening phone calls. Representative James Clyburn of South Carolina, received an anonymous fax showing the image of a noose. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/25/health/policy/25health.html. A man was arrested and charged with threatening to kill Senator Patty Murray of Washington because of her support for healthcare reform. The man arrested said:

“There’s a target on your back now.”

“There are many people out there that want you dead. Just remember that as you are politicing [sic] for your reelection. It only takes one piece of lead… Kill the … senator! Kill the … senator! I’ll donate the lead. Now that you’ve passed your healthcare bill, let the violence begin.”

“You are signing my death warrant, so I want to sign yours.”

That was April of 2010. At that time journalists reported, and warned, that these cases illustrate… “the dangerous and sordid underbelly of the current angry mood in the country. And it underscores the risk that can arise from supercharged rhetoric used by some leaders that seems designed to feed the anger.” http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Politics/2010/0406/Let-the-violence-begin-death-threats-against-Sen.-Patty-Murray.

6. Gabrielle Griffords herself declared that the violence-provoking language of Palin should stop immediately. http://www.good.is/post/gabrielle-giffords-warned-of-the-dangers-of-palin-s-crosshairs-map. Palin didn’t change anything.

7. Palin endorsed Sharon Angle and it was Angle who advocated “invoking our Second Amendment rights.” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/12/sharron-angle-defends-con_n_807911.html.

8. After 18 people were shot and 6 died in Arizona, Palin declared herself to be a victim of “blood libel.” http://malialitman.wordpress.com/2011/01/17/blood-libel-is-palins-revenge-for-exposing-her-nakedness/

(9 year old girl killed)

In the face of this history of inspiring violence Palin has the temerity to suggest that she is committed to “continuing his (MLK Jr.’s) work for a more peaceful and just nation.”

http://www.facebook.com/notes/sarah-palin/dr-martin-luther-king-jr/490074263434. How dare she commit such blasphemy! How dare Sarah Palin, the promoter of violence, suggest she is committed to the same ideals as Martin Luther King Jr.! MLK Jr. was an iconic figure in the advancement of civil rights both in the U.S., and around the world. Following the teachings of Mahatma Gandhi, he advocated change through NONVIOLENT means. He won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1965. He was awarded the American Liberties Medallion from the American Jewish Committee for his “exceptional advancement of the principles of human liberty.” He was awarded the Pacem in Terris Award named after a letter by Pope John XXII calling for all people to strive for peace. MLK Jr. was awarded the Planned Parenthood Federation Margaret Sanger Award for “his courageous resistance to bigotry and his lifelong dedication to the advancement of social justice and human dignity.” More than 730 cities in the United States have streets named after king. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Luther_King,_Jr. Palin has demonstrated her disqualification for every award earned by King, through her promotion of violence and bigotry.

She left Hawaii because she didn’t like Asians. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/12/06/palins-father-she-left-ha_n_381724.html. She defended Dr. Laura in her rant against African Americans. http://malialitman.wordpress.com/2010/08/21/palin-respects-those-who-dont-respect-her/. Then to make matters worse she encouraged Dr. Laura not to “retreat but to reload”. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/08/18/sarah-palin-supports-dr-laura_n_687148.html. A Muslim New York cab driver was stabbed after Palin posted the comment regarding the Mosque in New York, “Doesn’t it stab you in the heart?” http://malialitman.wordpress.com/2010/10/08/tell-the-holy-spirit-to-yell-at-sarah-palin/.

More recently she used the people of Haiti, when her motivation was clear. http://malialitman.wordpress.com/2010/12/15/2995/

If Martin Luther King Jr. were alive today he might forgive Palin, but he would never be her supporter. He said:

“Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.”

Palin has a history of aggression, retaliation, and revenge. http://malialitman.wordpress.com/2010/11/02/beware-sarah-barracuda-might-call-you-a-puppy-kicker/.

King said:

“We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.”

Palin hasn’t learned to live together with even her neighbor. She is a fool.

King said:

“Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.”

Gabrielle Giffords and the family of the 9 year old child killed in Arizona aren’t feeling much love right now.

My favorite quote of MLK Jr. that I used on the first page of my book, Rebuttal to the Rogue, is:

“Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

http://www.quotationspage.com/quotes/Martin_Luther_King_Jr.

Sarah Palin is dangerous! She might be part of King’s nightmare, but she was certainly not part of his dream.

NO H8, Just Love

2011-01-17T22:09:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I attended a photo shoot for the NO H8 Campaign in Atlanta with my daughter, who is a lesbian. As a heterosexual, with all the rights that allows me, I feel compelled to support those who are denied these same rights. So, Amanda and I headed to the W Hotel in midtown to wait, along with several hundred others, for our turn to have our photo taken with the NO H8 tattoo on our

faces and duct tape on our mouths.

At one point, we were sitting on a couch talking to another mother and daughter (neither of whom is gay) when a gay couple joined us. One of them asked me why I was willing to wait for hours to have my picture made. I answered “to show my support.”

What I should have said was, “for my daughter…for my brother…for my friends…for you and for every LGBT person, because I believe they deserve the same rights I do.”

That’s really why I was there. Amanda didn’t ask me to join her at this event, I asked her to join me.

We waited for 4 hours to have our picture made, which lasted all of a couple minutes. But, it was worth it. Not only did this give us a chance to spend some time together, but we felt a part of something so much bigger than ourselves; being in that room with so many likeminded others, gay and straight, felt right. There was nowhere else I would have rather been. And, to put icing on the cake, I had my NO H8 tattoo applied by our Rabbi. Sometimes separate pieces of our lives collide in the most wonderful ways.

The Privilege of Choosing Judaism

2011-01-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

I was cleaning out my documents file earlier today when I came across the speech I gave at the conclusion of my conversion to Judaism. It has been almost ten years, and reading through the speech, I am reminded of just how important this time in my life was. I spent 2001 in study with Rabbi Aaron Rubinstein, who became not only my teacher, but my friend and advisor. I drove the hour-and-a-half to Macon, GA every week or two to meet with him to discuss my readings, often drawing parallels with what was happening in the world at the time.*

I would return home from each of these meetings feeling so inspired—I had finally found the right path for me—and longing to share what I was learning with David (aka Mr. Man) and Amanda. So much so, that they began to tease me with, “Aaron says… Aaron says.” I read so many books that year, old and new; books about Jewish history and Jewish holidays, books of prayers, and books on how to live a Jewish life. I have quite a nice Jewish library and often turn to these when preparing for holiday celebrations.

Among my readings was a story about a young Jewish man who attended Harvard Law School at a time with there were limits on what Jews could achieve and when many law offices wouldn’t hire Jewish attorneys. He was often asked by his classmates why he didn’t convert as this would make things easier for him. Comments he chose to ignore. When he was inducted into the Law Society, he gave a speech which began with “I am sorry I was born a Jew…” which was greeted with applause and shouts. “I am sorry I was born a Jew, but only because I wish I had the privilege of choosing Judaism on my own.” Amazingly, this was greeted by first stunned silence, then applause, then a standing ovation.

I feel choosing Judaism was a privilege, one that I hope to live up to.

Shabbat Shalom

Some of you may not know me, and some of you know me as Arnold and Bess Cotton’s daughter-in-law, and others as David Cotton’s wife. My name is Kelly Enzor, and I recently completed my conversion working with Rabbi Rubinstein. Even those of you who do know me, may not realize what an important role this congregation played in my being on the bimah today.

When I first met David, our being from different religious backgrounds wasn’t an issue for us. I didn’t grow up in what most would consider a religious home; I didn’t attend church from the time I was old enough to make the decision on my own. While I have always believed in God, I never really felt drawn to any particular Christian faith. So, we decided that we would raise our daughter, Amanda, with information about both religions and let her make her own decisions. We celebrated both the Jewish holidays and those most typical in the Christian community, Christmas and Easter; although I admit these were never celebrated from a religious standpoint.

My husband, David and I began joining Arnold and Bess here for holidays and family events several years ago. It was through participating with you in this congregation, that I began to understand the meaning of Jewish community. The more I was exposed to Jewish holidays and traditions at this synagogue and with our family, I began to realize that I was finding meaning and a level of comfort that I had never before obtained within a religious context.

Over time, I began to identify with Judaism and found myself wishing I was Jewish. I found myself wanting to have the feelings of spirituality and community that I had found here in my and my family’s life on a regular basis. I began to read books about choosing a Jewish life and decided to join a synagogue closer to home. At each synagogue we attended, we compared the experience to what we had known here at Sha’arey Israel. This synagogue created for us shoes that were very hard to fill.

By the time I decided to convert, it was a formality for me, but an important process for me and for the broader Jewish community. While I felt Jewish, inevitably I would somehow be reminded that I wasn’t in both subtle and overt ways. Today, I am Jewish, in my heart and in my thoughts, in how I live my life, in the eyes of other Jews, and in what I pass on to my daughter.

Many people have played critical roles in helping me reach this point in my Jewish life. I would like to thank the Cottons, Meyersons and Baymes for you have become my family and I love you all very much. I have never known a family to be as close and supportive as you are. I have always felt embraced, accepted, and loved, and for this I feel very fortunate. Arnold and Bess, thank you for your patience, your love and guidance, and for letting me find my own way. I realize that it took a long time, but you were wise enough to know that my coming to Judaism in my own time would make the bond strongest.

David and Amanda, you, more than anyone else, have seen and felt the change in me and consequently your lives have changed as well. Other than the occasional teasing, you have both been incredibly patient with my need to share everything I was learning with you. Whether you intended to or not, you were with me on this journey and I couldn’t have done it without your love and support.

And finally, Rabbi Rubinstein, my teacher, my guide, and my friend throughout this spiritual journey, thank you.

*Rabbi Rubinstein moved to Memphis, Tennessee in 2005 where he leads a congregation at Beth Sholom.

Looking Forward to Warmer Weather

2011-01-15T11:52:00.000-05:00

We are a week away from our trip to the Philippines, and the snow of last Sunday, which is still on the ground—unheard of in Atlanta—and the subsequent three days of being housebound has certainly added to my excitement and anticipation. I have some last minute shopping to do and managed to get out yesterday as the temperature was above freezing for the first time in a week.

The roads were still icy, but the interstate was clear for the most part; although there were areas of Northbound 400 were whole lanes were iced over. Luckily, most were driving at lower speeds than usual for Atlanta and being careful. There were several occasions when I watched whole sheets of ice covered snow fly off the roofs of vehicles, remaining whole until they hit the road in an explosion of ice and snow—I gave any vehicle with snow still on the roof lots of space, fearful of having one of those sheets land on my windshield.

There couldn't be a better time for a trip to a warm climate. We leave next Saturday, flying from Atlanta to Detroit, from there it is 21 hours direct to Manila. Thankfully we had enough Delta Skymiles to upgrade to first class; I don’t think I could do 21 hours in coach. Upstairs cabin with fully reclining seats!

We will be visiting our very good friends Bob and Mari who have been living in Manila for the last two-and-a-half years. They have planned a couple of trips for us over the two weeks we’ll be there—Palawan, volcano climbing, snorkeling, and a visit to the rice terraces—and there are numerous things close to Manila to do while they attend to work and children.

Watch for pictures of blue water and white-sand beaches.