Theme of this year’s Garrett Park July 4 parade is The Novel, and UD is going as Ulysses. I’ll be tossing lollipops that say READ ULYSSES to the throngs.
… they’re misspelling my uncle’s last name. It’s Mario Loiederman.
And how proud he’d be to know his namesake school has achieved all-American status!
A long, unsparing consideration of old age care in America makes me think of my conversation yesterday with a 92-year old friend. We met near the Foggy Bottom metro and walked together through Washington Circle to a lunch date with a third friend. I asked my buddy what she’d been up to.
“Going through a lot of stuff and throwing most of it out,” she answered. “I don’t want to leave my daughter with too much to handle when I’m gone.”
My friend is sharp-witted and physically robust; she lives alone in an elegant apartment in the chic part of Alexandria, Virginia. “Is your health okay?” I asked. “Is anything wrong?”
“Not a thing. But I’m looking into Zurich.”
“Why?”
“My biggest fear is becoming dependent. I just can’t handle that prospect at all. I’d rather avoid it.”
“But I mean there’s independent living, etc. There are all sorts of steps between living fully on your own and being really dependent.”
“Not really. All my friends who made any sort of move in that direction went downhill very fast and I desperately don’t want that.”
We went on to discuss the bureaucratic details of the Swiss way of death versus the apparently more burdensome administrative niceties of what Washington DC offers. And then, both of us smiling in the city sunlight, we met our friend at a hotel cafe and enjoyed lunch together.
…to take three of our old family portraits to the Museum of Noble Tradition in Poland, where there will apparently be a Soltan room.
Not a labyrinth, but a walking circle, around vinca and a crape myrtle. Set among trees in the surrounding woods are chairs, tables, potted plants, wind chimes, small sculptures, and other objects. Xavier and his crew bring various forms of lighting soon. Still to come: Water feature. Fire pit. Etc.
Epic hosta on its way up in UD‘s garden. Its circular formation makes it look like a miniature, green, Stonehenge.
Here’s what it looked like four days ago.
Today it’s at least an inch higher all around and unfurling has begun.
In a quiet corner beside the lower deck, a hosta puts out circular shoots.
… El Patio, an Argentine place we like, claiming that it’s soon going to be National Empanada Day, and they had a celebratory special on them tonight.
First we toasted to the memory of my Argentine Uncle Mario; then we chowed down.
Regular readers know that UD‘s kid, La Kid, has worked at international consulting firm Hakluyt for some time. What you didn’t know, and what I didn’t know until I saw this piece in Architectural Record, is that their SF office (pictured), and I think all of their other offices, feature well-equipped bars.
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Photo © Bruce Damonte
For a Bethesda garden club’s annual tour.
Why pretend to be blasé about this, UD? Admit your excitement that your garden, only one small piece of which was professionally designed, and all of which is maintained by you and you alone, has attracted this sort of attention.
Of course this means I have to fast track the Bonhoeffer meditation garden at the top of the property. Not to mention sniff out the random dogshit, catshit, deershit, etc. The tour takes place in June.
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Will they expect me to walk around with them, chatting in a casual highly informed way about my plants? I don’t tag anything! I’m an old hippie! I grab stuff I like in plant stores, throw it in the ground, and immediately forget – if I ever knew – what it is. I can only identify hydrangeas. But not the type of hydrangeas. And I often call hydrangea hibiscus because they both start with the hi sound.