This is the last week of Charna’s precollege music course at Carnegie Mellon; Renee is here for the concerts. We’re running around a lot during the day, even though it’s way too hot, and we’ve been going to concerts each evening. More about that later.

Today we went to the Phipps and saw half of the Chihuly show. It was too hot to see all of it at one time–conservatories are not air conditioned. Yesterday we went to lunch with a Long Island friend of Renee’s who happened to be here for a convention. Then we went over to the convention center and walked through the wonderful water feature.
I think this is my favorite place in Pittsburgh. It’s dark and cool and cavernous; I love the feel of it as I walk through. I’m still trying to figure out how to make a tunnel book out of this image. That will have to wait until next month. On Friday, I’m going back to New York with Renee to  visit all of the friends I left behind. This is Renee taking a picture of me taking a picture of her.

My family went camping this weekend, and I am dog sitting. All of the walking is good for me, but I wish I could bring her to my apartment instead of my sleeping at their house. I wanted to have dinner here so I brought her here yesterday afternoon. She is aware there is another dog in the building, although she has never seen it. Each time she goes out the door she catapults out, barking unremittingly. She also barks at every passing dog, whether she can see them or not. This is a very quiet street; comfortable for dog walking, so lots of barking. One more night and I’ll be finished.

No classes this week so I spent my time exercising and then working on my father’s writings. I’m hoping to get all of my family’s literary efforts into some easily accessible format like CD or DVD and stop thinking about them. I find my father’s writing troubling. In his old age he was a troubled man. He spent a lot of time writing after a heart attack forced him to retire. He had no other interests; he seldom left his apartment because my mother was certain she could keep him alive as long as she kept him within her sight. He spent his time writing and rewriting his memoirs. Each time he rewrote the story he added elements, some interesting, some paranoid fantasies. I’m trying to keep the interesting parts.

He wrote about his early life in Europe, antisemitism, his transition to life in Chicago, antisemitism, coping with terrible financial problems during the Depression, antisemitism, finally becoming a poultry peddler after being trained and working as an architect. Ten years after the heart attack that retired him he got Guillaume Barre syndrome, spent seven weeks on a respirator, many more weeks in rehab where he was sure they were trying to kill him: antisemitism, again. The line between reality and paranoia is very fine, indeed. In the end he crossed it. He outlived my mother by several years, and went from assisted living to a series of different nursing homes, a new one each time he thought someone was out to get him.

He was a fine man whose life spanned almost the entire twentieth century. He came from a primitive, rural environment in Europe but managed to learn about and understand almost all of the century’s amazing technology. At the end he had trouble seeing and hearing but he still managed to keep up with what was going on in the world. I would like to keep his memories alive.

I’ve been having a wonderful time with Eli. Last night we went out for dinner to a new place I’ve been wanting to try: Royal Caribbean in East Liberty. We shared jerk chicken and curried shrimp; both were lovely.

Today we picked up Charna after school and went down to the Strip to shop. Charna and I were looking for a salad bowl but didn’t find the right one. I bought tea, dried chrysanthemums, and a kabocha, which I left for Robin. We looked in a wonderful antique store and stopped for coffee. Then we went up to Lawrenceville where Charna found a present for a friend and I found some fabric remnants I might use for book binding. It was a lovely afternoon. Too bad Eli will be leaving on Friday.

Temperature -1. Classes canceled this morning. I’m just as happy to stay home. I’ll go to the health club this afternoon.

I am obsessing (temporarily, until I finish the book) about Grandma and the nursery. Here are another couple of pictures of the building. I actually got out of the car to take these, and it was brutal. They are from the other side of the building. Grandma wrote that she wanted a building to house 500 children, so that’s what she built. She had gone to New York to inspect orphanages that housed 1000 children. She said if New York could house 1000, Chicago should have facilities for 500. I don’t think they ever had more than 200 babies, and seldom that many.