Back home

just in time to do laundry, get a blood test, visit the doctor and get ready for another trip: New York in about 2 weeks. But…let me finish the last trip. After the wedding we picked up Charna who was returning from Peru (I am amazed at how international my family has become), then Robin and Steve dropped me off at Betty's and took Charna and the car to the south side of the city: no more parking problems. Betty and I went to dinner with her son and daughter-in-law to celebrate her birthday. Here is a picture of Betty and me at dinner.


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On Sunday we went to the Art Institute to see another show about Louis Sullivan. This seems to be his year. This show had some of his wonderful drawing and mostly photographs of demolished buildings. Fortunately, several excellent architectural photographers concentrated on Sullivan's work before the buildings were destroyed.

Here is a last picture of the city; it was that silver tube that caught my eye.


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And a few pictures of the lake from Betty's window.


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Looking at Navy Pier and all the boats


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As the sun sets shadows of the buildings appear on the water.


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North Avenue beach and sunshine on the water.


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And the doctor doesn't need to see me until December, but the blood tests go on and on.

The Wedding

I had a terrible foreboding of us three elders ancients, Richard, Robert and I, bringing our 58 years of memories together and being overwhelmed. I haven't seen Robert for 21 years and that was OK. But it didn't work that way. He didn't recognize me, or Robin. He was unusually quiet; his normal demeanor being loud voice and bad jokes. I only saw him smile once at this very joyous occasion of his son's marriage. I don't know what was wrong. 

Then I got very lucky, again. When we first sat down Robert and his other  sons weren't there; the empty chairs were next to me. I got up and went to the ladies room. When I returned I found the people who originally sat next to Richard had moved next to me. Robert sat next to Richard and across the table from me. My seat partner was the groom's stepfather, a lovely man I had met several times before. Memories abounded, but they were not unpleasant. Of course, none of us recognized each other. Time had clearly done its terrible work.

I had a chance to talk to Robert's other two sons, whom I hadn't seen since they were toddlers. One was particularly charming; I was pleased.

As for the wedding: the bride was beautiful (I think she is probably always beautiful); the ambiance was lovely; food was good; drinks abundant; music too loud; everyone had a good time. 

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday

I’m sitting in a lovely hotel room just outside of Chicago–a rare experience for me–and enjoying doing nothing. Robin and Steve arrived earlier. I gave them the car and they went shopping. Tonight is Jerry’s wedding; I’m resting, regrouping and enjoying the free wi-fi with two days to tell about.  

I got a parking space at 9:30 Wednesday evening; undoubtedly the luckiest day of all. First a long lunch with my cousin Phyllis, shopping with no purchases to show for it, dinner with Karen and Kathryn. All told a satisfying day.  Found out the North Shore Hotel in Evanston is still a retirement facility. If I ever decide to come back here, that’s the place. Everything in downtown Evanston and much of Northwestern is accessible on foot and there is train service to downtown Chicago.

Thursday, Betty and I went to Skokie to the Illinois Holocaust Museum. They told us it would take one or two hours to go through; we were there four or five hours. It’s a heart wrenching experience.  Original films and oral histories are used to tell the stories of the people whose lives were so drastically affected by Hitler and his war against the Jews. 

I am always amazed at how pervasive anti-semitism is, and how easily it is blamed for anything someone doesn't like.  Louis Sullivan, not a Jew but with a Jewish partner, whose work was too "different" for the establishment and establishment architects, was accused of creating Jewishness (whatever that means), according to this statement in the exhibit I saw on Tuesday. (Chicago's first architect) John van Osdel says "it's architecture run crazy. It's an experiment in Jewishness like we have never seen before."


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“What does your husband think about it?”

That brought me to a grinding halt, and I poked at it all evening the way you keep running your tongue over a newly broken tooth. There were so many assumptions behind the question. Aside from the fact that I don't have a husband, and I had already said I had no one to discuss it with, the tacit assumptions behind it: that my husband would know what to do, would make more sense than I did; I could go on and on. It's not the problem I started with, but it made my feminist heart beat madly. And it was a woman who asked the question.

It all began with one of my students. Once, he told me he came here to be free. Two weeks ago he said we didn't have freedom here. I thought this was connected with his work situation and just said yes, having money gives you more freedom. He seems to have had a lot of problems lately, most of them connected with money. Last week we filled out forms for his daughters' school, and he expressed concern about them possibly not being ready to move to the next grade.

This week he wanted to fill out a form for a passport. He already had completed forms (someone else did them) for his wife and kids. Again we talked about money. I asked why he needed passports, and explained that you only need them if you want to leave the country. He gave me several different reasons for needing a passport, none of which really made sense to me. I helped him fill out the form.

This is when I decided I had to speak to someone and really didn't know where to turn. (Because I have no husband?) Was I being silly? overly suspicious? had I bought into the paranoia that seems to be gripping our country?

I have been working with him under a very loose arrangement with one of the groups that help refugees here in Pittsburgh. They introduced me and left; giving me no guidance. I never hear from them unless I initiate the conversation, which I did, and got that wonderful question to mull over and no practical answers.

Where do I go from here?

I’m beginning to believe in spring

Not much sunshine today, but nice and warm. I've been walking (2 plus miles) most days. A new round of classes are beginning. I'm learning about the geology of the national parks (Monday was parks with caves), contemporary art as explained by grad student creators, and today a class about Carmen. Also two movies and a meeting of the "digital imagers," a group who meet to talk about digital photography, occasionally using slides for their examples–a little strange. I'm supposed to be cooking this week: two friends coming for lunch on Friday and a dish for a potluck on Saturday. I think I'll buy for Friday, cook a wonderful pear and squash crumble for Saturday. I've made it a couple of times so I have confidence in it.

We are supposed to get rain tomorrow and the weekend. Lots of talk on TV about flooding. I wasn't here for the last big flood, 1996. I think I'm on high ground here. Years ago we had a basement that flooded with increasing regularity as the neighborhood got built up. In 1967, as the Israeli's were fighting the '67 war, Richard was working for an Israeli company as their American marketing agent. We were up to our ankles in water trying to clean it up when G's cousin called asking about his Israeli cousin. All we knew was what we heard on TV or radio. All we cared about at that moment was cleaning up the mess. Amazing how a little water can change your perspective.

Writing in depth

Alice of Wintersong has a great post about a technique for writing in depth. I've been thinking about it since, dredged up some well buried thoughts that alternately entertained and appalled me, came up with nothing when I set out to write it all down. Rather, I tried to set out without knowing what I would write. The idea is to keep your pen on the paper and keep writing without thinking about it. I can't do it; I can't let go.

I learned as a very young child to keep my emotions, and the events that caused them, to myself. My mother had no sympathy for my problems. Most often her reaction would be something along the lines of, 'How could you do this to me?' If something bad happened, like the guy who exposed himself to me in a hallway, and I told her about it, I would get more restrictions on my freedom, ostensibly to keep me safe, but no sympathy, no consolation. I was supposed to behave in such a way as to avoid anything that produced strong emotions. I didn't behave, I didn't live in a box, I kept my mouth shut and my feelings to myself, a very hard habit to break. So this is probably the most you will ever get about my feelings. And my writing will never be compelling.

Christmas Day eve, New York

With only two, not so pressing things on my todo list, we went shopping, or I should say window shopping. I decided, while I was looking at new phones, that I really wanted another netbook. We went down to J&R Music Computer World so I could look at netbooks. They have the best selection I've found. I was so unhappy with that Asus I bought before I went to China I wanted to see, and try out, before I buy. Well, I'm still not sure. Asus has a new one that tempts me, but I still feel burned by them.

Julia met us in the store and we walked to Chinatown and had a lovely dim sum at the Chatham Square restaurant. Then we walked around Chinatown and down Canal Street, not as crowded as a summer day, but enough to send us back to the subway. On the way back to the apartment I stopped for my usual travel ritual: buy a new pair of shoes. This wasn't as bad as usual–just a pair of black Merrell's, which I had been planning to buy since I retired the last pair some weeks ago.

Sunday in Butler

When I say to Renee, "How would you like to go to…" she says yes before I tell her the destination. She loves driving anywhere and sometimes get very excited about the most mundane occasions. Today we took a trip to the Maridon Museum in Butler PA. It's about an hour from Pittsburgh and mostly was easy driving. The museum has a lot of high class, very expensive ivory and jade carvings, largely 20th C. stuff. I enjoyed seeing it, but it wasn't what I had hoped for.

Butler is an interesting looking town. We spent a little time looking around. Here is the tower of the Court House.

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Detail on the front of the building:

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Beautiful Lutheran Church across the street:

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Robin and Charna with Darcy in her favorite position: looking for belly rubs.

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We did a lot of dog walking over the weekend. Renee and I both needed the exercise.

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Eating again

Another beautiful day in the 'burgh. When I left the house before 11 am I thought it would be cold and wore a heavy coat. We walked the dog, and it got warmer. Then we took a walk in Schenley Park and I was sweating by the time we finished. It stayed warm for an hour or so, then cooled off just as quickly. I think I need two coats for this kind of weather.

Renee and I went to lunch at Hokkaido, a seafood buffet, recently opened that I've been wanting to try. I still need an eating companion to go to restaurants with me, so I'm taking advantage of Renee's visit. The restaurant was good; I enjoyed the Chinese dim sum kinds of things and the sushi. I'd like to go back again soon. I try not to overeat at buffets; I just like the chance to taste lots of different things.

Day after

Alice, you owe me a gold star. but, I'm just barely making it. It's 11:25 pm, I just got in and my eyes are closing. Went over to Robin's about 12 hours ago, had lunch (mostly not the left overs), then Renee and I went to a movie–An Education. We had trouble understanding the dialog–British accents, bad sound system–but the acting was good enough to hold our attention regardless. Came back for Shabat dinner (mostly the leftovers) then dessert (really great cakes) at a friend's. All in all another good day.

Mage, I was taking the picture; I'm not in it. My hair is still not entirely white.

I'll explain about Hanukah bushes next week.