Years ago after my husband and I obtained our masters degrees my parents took us on a trip to see my father’s homeland. So many things stand out from that two week trip to Hungary including the food, the perfect Mediterranean-like weather, the warmth of my relatives and the unique lodgings we stayed in. Our final hotel was back in the capital of Budapest where we had begun our trip, expect this time we stayed in the famous Hotel Gellért, which had views of Gellért Hill, the Danube River with a large bridge over it near the entrance of the hotel connecting Buda to Pest. By this point in the trip we were tired and overstuffed with heavy Hungarian cuisine and looking forward to the famous Gellért Spa to relax before heading home. We arrived at the opulent hotel and proceeded to our small rooms. Ours had a small balcony with a view of Gellért Hill and the busy street below. But what was most noticeable about our room was not the view so much as one small piece of opulence which was slowly being stripped of its finery. We had a small chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling amongst what would be considered a fairly modest and outdated hotel room. My husband and I lay on the bed wondering about the missing prisms, which encompassed nearly the entire bottom rung. I debated whether to take one myself for a souvenir, but Ryan talked me out of it. When I checked in with my folks their room had the same small chandelier with its missing crystals.
Since that trip I have wondered about the chandeliers, the crystals and what they look like today, eight years later. When guests of the hotel took the crystals did they end up on a necklace, in a shadow box or stuffed in the bottom of someone’s jewelry box? Did they smile and think, “This time I got something better than a bathrobe or a stupid hotel pen.” Was the defacing of many small chandeliers worth it to bring a piece of Hungary back home? Have the chandeliers finally been replaced with energy efficient lighting? In the larger scheme of my life these are such minor questions yet, I have always wondered about the small crystals that were so easily slipped into one’s luggage without the hotel staff having the faintest notion at the time of check-out. Maybe one day I’ll make it back to the Gellért to relive my very unusual spa experience (that’s a fun story for another time) and to check on the hotel lighting.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Photo Friday, Monochrome
- mono·chrome \ˈmä-nə-ˌkrōm\
- Etymology: Medieval Latin monochroma, from Latin, feminine of monochromos of one color, from Greek monochrōmos, from mon- + -chrōmos -chrome
- a painting, drawing, or photograph in a single hue
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Contours
We have been living in our house for nearly eight years, which means seven summers of lawn mowing. We spent a good portion of these summers pushing trusty hand-me-down mower on our 1/3 acre property until I ran over something and broke it. So we bought another push mower, until we realized mowing the lawn took up too much time in addition to raising two little boys, so in entered the riding mower. Now I do all the mowing. I have recently noticed how over the years the contours of our yard have changed, partly due to an excavation project a number of years ago, but also due to the gradual change in the land. Dirt moves and settles, followed by rains, digging dogs and moles and the process repeats. There are areas that I can no longer take the riding mower for fear of toppling over, and that change has only occurred in a two year stretch of time.
So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I pulled out my prom dresses the other day. It’s been over 20 years (GULP!) since these were worn. I threw a bridesmaid dress into the mix for fun and I am glad I did. It is only about 12 years old and is the only item ever made custom made for me and it fit me perfectly back then. Guess what? Two babies since it still fit like it was made for my figure (thanks in part to the A-line cut). I was feeling pretty haughty when I went to try on the dress I wore as a ju
nior in high school. It fit, but it was a little big on me, back then. And my how styles have changed since the late 1980s. So with great confidence I stepped into my royal blue prom dress with the asymmetrical cut that I wore as a high school sophomore, as my sons looked on. The shock must have shown on my face when I could not get the dress zipped up all the way. It came to my rib cage and just stopped. I sucked in and as I thought of asking my oldest son to pull the zipper up, I took one good yank and it was zipped. Of course I couldn’t breathe, but I was in it. The dress still made my legs look awesome, but it had lost a bit of the magic it once had. Maybe it was simply due to the lack of oxygen traveling to my brain. Who knew that ones rib cage could expand so much after childbirth? I paraded around in it for my sons, realizing that I would never try it on again. At least I got the fantasy of slipping into my prom dress out of my system and even feel ready to give it away to some very lucky high school drama department.
During the very same week my sons, 5 and 3 ½ were asking about how small they were as babies. I pulled out a preemie outfit, they had both worn as newborns, but that did not seem to make an impression, so my husband and I pulled out their baby photo albums. As we flipped through, it wasn’t how much the boys had changed so much as how much the parents had. When my oldest was born we looked so young. My husband’s grey hair was just starting, yet not recognized on film. We looked fairly relaxed , if not sleep deprived. Now, I notice the little lines on our faces, and the grey hairs are there. It’s all part of growing up and becoming a parent.
It all goes back to contours of the land. Nothing stays the same or looks the same forever. So I use my Oil of Olay (now just Olay) as I have since I was about twelve. That may be the only thing that has remained the same.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
It's almost been a year
June 9, 2009
This afternoon a violent afternoon thunderstorm ripped through the area almost a year to the day (just one day off to be exact) that a microburst torn though my town, felling trees, damaging cars and homes and creating what looked like tornado swath. I am the type of person to remember significant dates. That week last year was a fanatical one, not just due to the storm, but also due to other events in my life. A year later I look back and think of all the good that has come from all those events, as well as some of the difficulties.
That Monday my husband came home to report that he had given notice at his job. Now a year later he is very happy not only with his current work, but also his office, co-workers, bosses, commute on the train into DC as well as just the general lifestyle of working in the city and coming home to his family in the country. That was a good day.
On Tuesday the storm came through, knocking down about five of our trees in our backyard and causing substantial damage to the backyard and fence. It just so happens that our computer blew out as well that morning (shortly before the storm, but the insurance company thinks it happened during the storm). We were lucky. One next door neighbor lost their car. Another had a huge tree land in their master bedroom. A year later we are still digging into the pile of mulch left behind from some of the trees knocked down on another neighbor’s property. That was a weird day.
On Wednesday, as I was setting up the removal of the trees in our yard, we received the news that my mother-in-law had Stage 3 ovarian cancer. I called the daycare parents to pick up the children, had my own sons go with my parents and I rushed to the hospital to be with Gail, Ron and Ryan. Now a year later, Gail is still fighting this disease. She has had her ups and downs and is on her third round of chemo. My in-laws decided to sell their beautiful mountain property and move to Louisiana to be closer to a well-renowned cancer treatment center and other family members. That was a bad day.
I know there were other things that happened that week as well (yes, I finally found my keys!) and then of course there were so many other events, both wonderful and exciting and aggravating that happened throughout the year. I use anniversaries to mark where I was and look at how far I have come, what has changed and what I need to continue to work on. I have seen my oldest son through his preschool experience, worked with my younger son on giving up the pacifier and diapers and continued working with children in my daycare. After many years, I have picked up my camera once again for artistic pursuits, not just as a method of recording family events. I have traveled to several exciting American cities, and jumped on the indie-rock music following scene as well as continued with my yoga practice and even branched out to my old love, modern dance. Life threw a few curve balls and I spent a good deal of time sitting in the auto repair shop, getting to know the staff after three accidents in six months (none of which were my fault). Weddings, sadness in friend’s lives, surgeries and health scares. They all happened this past year.
I know my blogs aren't really funny. As much as I would like them to be, I really need them as a form of therapy, much like I used to have when I was an avid journal keeper. So recently I have been thinking about the past 365 days and singing this song by Greg Laswell.
It’s almost been a year.
http://www.imeem.com/people/TRDYyxe/music/eAewzYa8/greg-laswell-its-been-a-year/
This afternoon a violent afternoon thunderstorm ripped through the area almost a year to the day (just one day off to be exact) that a microburst torn though my town, felling trees, damaging cars and homes and creating what looked like tornado swath. I am the type of person to remember significant dates. That week last year was a fanatical one, not just due to the storm, but also due to other events in my life. A year later I look back and think of all the good that has come from all those events, as well as some of the difficulties.
That Monday my husband came home to report that he had given notice at his job. Now a year later he is very happy not only with his current work, but also his office, co-workers, bosses, commute on the train into DC as well as just the general lifestyle of working in the city and coming home to his family in the country. That was a good day.
On Tuesday the storm came through, knocking down about five of our trees in our backyard and causing substantial damage to the backyard and fence. It just so happens that our computer blew out as well that morning (shortly before the storm, but the insurance company thinks it happened during the storm). We were lucky. One next door neighbor lost their car. Another had a huge tree land in their master bedroom. A year later we are still digging into the pile of mulch left behind from some of the trees knocked down on another neighbor’s property. That was a weird day.
On Wednesday, as I was setting up the removal of the trees in our yard, we received the news that my mother-in-law had Stage 3 ovarian cancer. I called the daycare parents to pick up the children, had my own sons go with my parents and I rushed to the hospital to be with Gail, Ron and Ryan. Now a year later, Gail is still fighting this disease. She has had her ups and downs and is on her third round of chemo. My in-laws decided to sell their beautiful mountain property and move to Louisiana to be closer to a well-renowned cancer treatment center and other family members. That was a bad day.
I know there were other things that happened that week as well (yes, I finally found my keys!) and then of course there were so many other events, both wonderful and exciting and aggravating that happened throughout the year. I use anniversaries to mark where I was and look at how far I have come, what has changed and what I need to continue to work on. I have seen my oldest son through his preschool experience, worked with my younger son on giving up the pacifier and diapers and continued working with children in my daycare. After many years, I have picked up my camera once again for artistic pursuits, not just as a method of recording family events. I have traveled to several exciting American cities, and jumped on the indie-rock music following scene as well as continued with my yoga practice and even branched out to my old love, modern dance. Life threw a few curve balls and I spent a good deal of time sitting in the auto repair shop, getting to know the staff after three accidents in six months (none of which were my fault). Weddings, sadness in friend’s lives, surgeries and health scares. They all happened this past year.
I know my blogs aren't really funny. As much as I would like them to be, I really need them as a form of therapy, much like I used to have when I was an avid journal keeper. So recently I have been thinking about the past 365 days and singing this song by Greg Laswell.
It’s almost been a year.
http://www.imeem.com/people/TRDYyxe/music/eAewzYa8/greg-laswell-its-been-a-year/
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