I thought it would be good to start with just plain gorgeousness from our trip last week to Washington DC for the 80th birthday of a dear friend. These next two photos are from the other-wordly gardens at Hillwood Estate and Gardens.
Walking through the gardens felt like falling into some Alice-in-Wonderland-like exuberance of color and brilliant design. Shockingly, our garden does not look like this. (But I did lean over to Jim and say “This is what I want our garden to look like.” All I need is another 24 acres and a bazillion dollars.)
The mansion, now a museum, was created by Marjorie Merriweather Post (think General Foods and Post cereal, as well as bushels and bushels of money) and opened to the public in 1977. The mansion–you just can’t call it a house–has “the most comprehensive collection of Russian imperial art outside of Russia,” as well as a “distinguished” 18th century Frenchdecorate art collection. I’m guessing the china below is an example. So beautiful.
I’m sure you’re surprised that I chose to take photos of the china with birds painted on it, out of the dozens and dozens displayed.
Besides celebrating old and new friendships, (and eating and eating and eating), Jim and I took a pedicab around the mall area and visited many of the famous monuments. We highly recommend it the pedicab! Parking is, no surprise, a nightmare, walking to everything we wanted to visit could be exhausting, so taking a two-hour pedicab trip was ideal. Our guide/bicyclist, Robert, was a fount of information, and made the entire experience delightful. One of the most impactful monuments, for me, was the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. We knew a lot about the controversy when it was first constructed–people, especially veterans, hated that is just a long black wall, sunk down at the base of a hill. It was designed by Maya Lin, an architecture student at the time, who submitted it as part of a design assignment. (She got a C.) But viewpoints changed radically once people began to walk along it and experience the impact of walking by the names of all 58,318 veterans who died there.
I have to admit, the first look at it is not inspiring. From a distance, it’s just a black wall. Meh. But then, you start walking at one end, where the “wall” is just inches high, and there is just one name. The first soldier who died in Nam. And then, as you proceed, the wall expands upward, and there are three names, and then five, and then twenty, and then fifty and eventually, as you walk, your brain and your soul absorbs the impact of over 58,000 soldiers, each one named, dying in that horrible war in what (we were all told, though many disagreed) was the defense of democracy.
Credit National Parks Service
Every war memorial, with statues of generals on some noble horse, looks pale by comparison. While we were there, many veterans were there, and some were looking up individual names. If you’ve never been, go if you can; it feels tragic and inspiring and important and right to do so.
We also spent time at the National Museum of African American History and Culture, and it is brilliantly done. It contains seven floors, three underground–the metaphor could not be more clear–and four above, moving from before the slave trade into the present. I was hesitant to start on the lowest floor, where I knew there would be a lot about the horrors of slavery. I know from experience that a graphic description of some of the worst of the worst would result in no good to anyone, but lots of nightmares for me. But, I have to tell you–start at the beginning! The entire museum is not just brilliantly done, it’s also designed for everyone, including children, and it’s honest but not at all graphic. You could spend days there, but we moved through relatively quickly, in part because of our schedule, and in part, because it was very, very crowded. Lots and lots of children, which was wonderful. I doubt I’ll ever forget a young man, maybe nine?, who, while looking at a map of slave versus non-slave states in the 1800’s, looked at his mom, his eyes huge, and said “Wait. You mean Maryland was a slave state?” I’d bet the farm that Maryland is his home now.
The last floor is a celebration of African American contributions to art, music, and literature. It was so so so good. Go, if you can, before it gets “white washed” (literally) by our President, who has stated it’s “just too negative,” or some such blasphemy.
One last thing! I teamed up with Dogwise and we offered a limited number of autographed The Other End of the Leash books on my Join the Pack list, with the idea that I’d tell you all about it in this post. But, wow, the copies sold out in two days, long before I could post the blog. But, here’s the good news: I scrounged up 9 more copies that I can sign! The books will go back on sale early tomorrow morning: go to my website and click on the book The Other End of the Leash (under the Shop tab) early on Tuesday 4/29, where you’ll be able to click on a link that sends you to a page where you can order the autographed version. If it’s not up yet, try again in a few minutes. BUT, there are only nine copies available, so if you want one, jump in asap. (And a good reason to Join the Pack, a list different than the blog list, that sends notifications of fun things like this, sales, etc.) I’m soooo sorry that there aren’t more, and that we underestimated the demand, but my hand is so tired and the books had to travel around the country three times to make this happen! If there is enough interest, I’m sure we’ll do something like this in the future.)
MEANWHILE, back at the farm. We got home on Saturday, where I am able to enjoy our little gardens, sparkling with daffodils, who always look like someone clicked on “yellow” and boosted the saturation level to high.
It is very, very, very springy here, and it’s pretty much a porn movie outside, with male Robins going all ninja on each other while fighting for females, male Cardinals adorably seducing females by feeding them seeds, and rabbits, uh, f’g like rabbits. Here’s a lovely result–a Mourning Dove has already made a nest beside our front door. She doesn’t fly away when we come or go, which suggests to me she is the one who nested there last year, but she’s sinks down so that her head if barely visible.
For perspective, here is the pergola (that Jim built–yes, I’ve told you he’s amazing, right?). Can you find her? Her head is visible if you know where to look.
That’s it for today, the rest of life calls, but please jump in about your experiences in our nation’s capitol, or the X-rated animal activity at your place. Be well.
English (US) · 