Pav.....

Pavlova. Kiwis and Aussies fight over who is entitled to the official rights regarding this fluffy meringue dessert. Made with egg whites and superfine caster sugar a pavlova done right will have a crunchy outside that encases the lightest marshmallow fluff you can imagine. Now hang on a minute. When I say "marshmallow fluff" I don't mean the stuff you can buy in the jar. I'm describing something more like ambrosia: a sweet, billowing ultralight cloud.

It will come as no surprise that with Timmy at the helm in the kitchen he made the perfect pavlova. On the first try. Now this is no easy feat. I say this for two reasons. One, it's easy to contaminate your egg white mixture along the way. A tiny bit of oil in your mixing bowl or a minuscule piece of egg yolk sneaking in with the white will destroy all efforts. Two, many self-reported experts online openly scoff and say that you cannot make pavlova without an electric mixer. They say don't even bother. With our tiny kitchen we have a dearth of counter space and therefore very few appliances. Amongst those we don't have is an electric mixer. This fact would dissuade me from trying such a recipe but Tim was unfazed. He say, "Ah, yeah, it'll be fine. I'll whip it by hand". And he did. For at least 30 minutes he sat on the couch and whipped those egg whites until peaks began to form in the mixture.

From there he piled the fluffy creation onto the baking-paper-covered cookie sheet and slid it into the oven.

We watched it periodically during the cooking time. After it had elapsed we followed the instructions and let it cool completely in the oven which took several more hours. 

In the end Tim served up a beautiful Pavlova with freshly whipped heavy cream topped with blueberries, kiwifruit and strawberries. A veritable taste sensation!

Book love....

The Night Circus. An escape into whimsy.

Ank,,,,,

You know about the sprained ankle. Yep. After arriving back in Wellington I hemmed and hawed about going to physiotherapy. Physio was a new concept to us when we moved to NZ; it's not exactly physical or occupational therapy nor is it strictly massage or chiropractic treatment. Instead, it's a amalgamation of the three. So in NZ if you have a sprain or break you go to and see a 

"physiotherapist" and they assist you in your recovery. 

I spent the remainder of that first week at home with my foot propped up hoping that the rest would reduce the stress it endured on the trip back to Wellington. I did see a little progress each day; however, the following week I decided to go to physio because it was still pretty sore. I was still worried that something terrible had happened. I mean, who knows what's going on in there?

With trepidation I stepped into the physiotherapy office that's part of our Student Health Service here at Victoria. After an examination of the joint and surrounding tissue he confirmed that indeed it hadn't been broken. Or fractured. And there was no ligament tears! I was so relieved. Then he told me that the reason it was so painful was because I had sprained both sides. Of course I did! Sigh. And the terrible bruises came from damage to the muscle on the inside of my foot. 

Since then I've been stretching it as per his instructions and go back each week to have it checked. We are seeing improvement which is good. But I've also learned that my body, in an effort to protect itself, has altered the way that I walk. This is taking weight off the damaged portion on the outside of my foot while putting extra stress on the damaged portion of the inside of my foot. I have additional exercises for this and really hope that we can get a handle on it soon. Hopefully these "ankle" posts will fade away in the wind as my recovery continues. I'm so ready to be past this!

Book love....

Sycamore Row. Another well written tale by John Grisham.

En route.....

The following morning I got up early and saw my mom off via shuttle to Reagan Airport. After that I went back to bed for a couple hours. Knowing that I wouldn't get any good rest on the plane I figured I should get as much sleep as I could before I started traveling.

When the alarm sounded I got up, dressed and finished packing everything into my big bag with a few things stuffed into my carry on. When the time came I called the front desk and they moved my big bag downstairs where I waited for my shuttle. It was a few minutes late and had me worrying. I was already worried about making all my connections, collecting my bag along the way and all of this with a sprained ankle that needed rest but instead was getting international travel! But just as I was starting to obsess it pulled into the hotel drive.

The shuttle picked up a few more people before dropping us at our respective terminals. I hefted my pack onto my back and said, "Ok, Bridget, you can do this". I started walking down the length of the corridor and after a stretch didn't see Virgin America anywhere. What? I started back because I knew they were located inside Terminal 1. After perusing all the signs I saw a smallish one that led me to their desk that was, unintuitively, around a corner. I wrestled the hip belt from my bag, secured it and put the whole thing into it's carry bag. This I lugged a mercifully short distance to the counter where I checked in without incident. I asked if they could communicate to my connecting flight that I would need a wheelchair to make my connection at LAX. They made the arrangements and asked if I wanted to be wheeled to my gate. I asked how far it was to which they replied, "Kind of far" and then called for a wheelchair. It was good thing we did this. We took a tram then went through a maze of corridors, via the elevators of course, before finally arriving at the gate. As luck would have it there was a Chipotle right next to my gate so I hobbled over and tucked into what would be my last Chipotle meal (and Coke to drink). :) :(

After that I settled in to wait for the flight to start boarding. We flew, with relatively few bumps, to LAX and this time I had magazines, books and a movie screen to keep my busy. Arriving at LAX I was whisked away to my gate in record time. I then stopped by Duty Free for one last Clinique item that had been overlooked when I went shopping earlier in the week. Finding a seat near the gate I sank into it and wondered if I should request a seat change for this flight. I was worried about my ankle and how it would fair. I mean, you get foot swelling during these long flights under normal circumstances. In the end I decided to go up and ask. All they could say was no. So I did. The desk agent took a look at the empty seats and found a "G" that would be perfect for me. So, there are three seats on each bulkhead and four in the middle of the plane. "G" seats are the farthest to the right in the middle section. She put me there because there wasn't anyone sitting in the two seats to the left of it. That way I could put my foot up for part of the flight. This was a lifesaver. I also explained my predicament to a flight attendant and she kept me stocked with bags of ice to pack around my foot. This was no surprise - Air New Zealand has top service! I was pleased that I was able to sleep some of the night and move around enough to stay relatively comfortable. We had no turbulence for which I was grateful. After taking a couple bizarro vegetarian meals, watching a couple movies and sleeping on and off we were making our descent into Auckland! Hooray!

From there, with the help of Air New Zealand staff, was put in another wheelchair and then wheeled over to collect my bag before heading through Customs and Immigration checkpoints. The woman who helped me was a wizard as she managed to push me (to be fair it was a wheelchair that could only be pushed from behind, that is, I couldn't push it!) and maneuver my big bag on a cart. Soon we had dropped off my bag again and were heading through Immigration. I declared my Tylenol with codeine because, if they looked in my bag, they would've found it straightaway. The woman asked, "So what drugs are you bringing it with you?". I explained the ankle situation front the low vantage point of the wheelchair and she was happy enough. Then I needed to transfer to the Domestic Terminal. We boarded the shuttle bus and the attendant who was with me asked a gentleman who had just sat down if I could have his seat. She took very good care of me. We disembarked the bus and she left me with one of her colleagues who took me to my gate where she verified my information to make sure we were in the right place. From there the desk agents asked if I could walk on the plane to which I responded, "Yes". However, one of them was a woman in her 50s, probably a mom. She insisted that she wheel me on board. At that point I was exhausted and not arguing with anyone. :) After getting situated in my seat another wheelchair bound woman boarded with her husband. She had a broken foot so we commiserated for a few minutes while everyone else piled into their seats around us.

The little flight, just 46 minutes, went quickly and I was preparing myself for the stereotypically bumpy landing in Wellington. But it never happened. We landed with a few small bumps and I thought, "Yes! Soon I'll see Timmy!". They opened the doors and a wheelchair came to get me. I was scanning faces as soon as we emerged from the jetway. And there he was! After everything I had made it home. Within a few minutes we picked up my bag and I breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason I always wonder if my bag will arrive when I travel.

From there we took a cab home where I found that Timmy had bought all my favorite NZ things (like Tim Tams and cider) in addition to some gorgeous fresh flowers. It goes without saying: IT WAS SO GOOD TO BE HOME! :)

Rest day....

The next day we did no sightseeing. Instead, Jess drove up to Silver Spring to have lunch with us. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon working on the computer. I help my mom set up her very own blog. She writes a monthly design column for their local newspaper and is branching out to a blog: yourdesignstyle.blogspot.com.

I also spent a decent amount of the day with my foot elevated and packed with ice. It was feeling  a little bit better each day but I was still dreading the following day when I would embark on the long journey from DC to Wellington. In an effort to make my bag as light as possible I practiced packing and sent a few things back with my mom. Anything I could spare I sent with her. In the end it really was a lot lighter even though I was bringing a decent amount of Clinique back with me. :)

Monuments....

After Air & Space everyone was ready to call it a day for my sake but I could have none of that! The pain wasn't too bad, I had my tylenol with codeine if needed and riding in the wheelchair had saved a huge number of steps.

Initially, mom and I had agreed that we would do the "monuments walk" around the National Mall. This would get us near many of the monuments and let's face it: I wanted to see them all! But with the ankle messing up plans we compromised and set off to see a few of them. First up was the Lincoln Memorial. If I only got to see a limited number of monuments I wanted this one to be the first. We drove as close as we could get and Meredith and Meegan dropped us off and went to find parking. Jess, mom and I took some snaps out front before walking over to get a front-on view of Honest Abe.

We slowly made our way over to the front of the monument. From there you could turn around and get stunning view down the length of the National Mall, over the Reflecting Pool and Washington Monument, past the World War II Memorial all the way to the Capitol Building at the far end. I had to laugh when I was lining up photos because it looked like the Capitol Building was photobombing the Washington Monument. :)

Turning around to take in the Lincoln Memorial in all its glory immediately my heart sank. There were so many stairs! :( And of course I really wanted to go up! But Jess saved me from a minor meltdown when he deftly located the elevator. I mean, of course they have one, I just had never needed one before now. So we zipped up, stepped out of the elevator and around a corner. We had walked right out next to where he's sitting and the effect was nothing short of breathtaking. I stood for a long time taking it all in while balancing lightly on my sore ankle. Next, I perused the walls where two of his speeches had been engraved into the stone: The Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural Address. In a word: WOW. 

From there we walked down via the Vietnam War Memorial. I was instantly struck by a somber, sobering feeling as I looked at what seemed like an endless number of names inscribed in the stone. 

With one last stop still in me, our gracious drivers dropped us off at the World War II Memorial. The sun was sinking fast, with temperatures dipping to match. I hobbled along to take in both sides of the memorial. It was quite beautiful.

Tired and cold I had reached my limit for the day. All things considered I was very happy with everything we'd been able to accomplish despite my injurious setback. From there we headed back towards Silver Spring where we happily sat down to a Tex Mex dinner. (Not Chipotle!)

Social experiment.....

So I'm not a psychologist. Of any variety. Despite the fact that I completed my Master's degree and am partway through my PhD within a School of Psychology. I've never been trained in Psychology but being in these departments I've learned a tad about the overall subject. As a Master's student at MSU we were required to take courses in addition to our research and teaching commitments. One of the courses we took was Social Psychology and it afforded me a glimpse into a bizarre, subjective and often confusing world of all things social. I'm telling you this because, especially after taking that class, I had never had a desire to conduct a social experiment of any kind. And yet the day we visited Air & Space I was placed in a situation where I inadvertently conducted a social experiment for the first time ever. I never intended for this to happen. It just did. You probably see where I'm going with this. Being a person of sound body and mind I took in not only Air & Space from the vantage point of a wheelchair; I also had the opportunity to observe the behavior of everyone around me. Specifically their reactions to me: a person, they didn't know, in a wheelchair. From the chair I immediately noticed that people were doing one of two things: either they were purposefully avoiding eye contact with me (while simultaneously looking uncomfortable) or they were looking right at me with expressions of "I feel so bad for you" on their faces. Initially, I almost laughed out loud. I wanted to say, "Look, I'm just an idiot who took a misstep going down some stairs", "It's just a sprained ankle!". But there was no time or place for that to happen. I also noticed that innumerable parents who saw us coming where grabbing their children and yanking them out of our way. It was like the sea parting, magically, as we rolled through the museum's many exhibits and wings. 

Then it got better. I realized something. Jess, who had been pushing me around the whole time, had decided to wear a Wounded Warrior shirt. The campaign supports and honors wounded veterans and he had wanted to contribute and thus bought some of their merchandise. Like the shirt he was wearing that day. To push me in a wheelchair around Air & Space! Yeah. We must've looked like quite the pair. :) Then I really felt like an idiot. Not just an idiot but an impostor! By no means am I a wounded vet - just someone with a sprained ankle trying to see Air & Space! I was so embarrassed, still am. 

So there you have it. This was the social experiment I never intended to conduct. It was a powerful reminder that we make assumptions about other people all the time. Sometimes they are more wrong that you might imagine! Food for thought.

Air & Space.....

The next morning my mom and I took a bagful of random stuff to USPS and mailed it to NZ. Considering the sprained ankle, the initial weight of my bag that I'd have to carry on my back, and the fact that we had done a decent amount of shopping I had to mail some of it home.

We then returned to the hotel where I rested and iced my ankle again before wrapping it up. Then the hotel shuttle kindly dropped us off at the metro station, embarrassingly only three blocks away from the hotel. But with a badly sprained ankle mom was echoing the doctors orders when she said, "No, we're going to take the shuttle". I rolled my eyes and acquiesced. She was right but I didn't want to admit it. :) Once there we waited for a few minutes and then boarded the metro bound for the city center. We got off at Judiciary Square and found that the exit we needed to put us exactly where Meredith, Meegan and Jess would pick us up was closed! So I hobbled to the other end of the station and up the escalator that was thankfully, running. We were familiar with this particular metro location as we had walked this exact path the day before on the way to the Library of Congress. With experience on our side we were able to take as few steps as possible to walk a couple blocks to the other entrance. Upon arriving we started scanning for their vehicle but didn't see it. After a few minutes they zipped up to the curb and we piled in, carefully of course. They saw that the entrance had been closed and so drove over to the other one where we did come out. Ships passing in the night. With that sorted we set off for the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. After going through security we secured a wheelchair for me. I handed over my NZ driver's license as collateral and plopped myself into the chair. Even at that point, there hadn't been a ridiculous amount of walking, I was happy to be able to sit down. :) My brother, Jess, was a good sport and pushed me all around and stopped wherever I wanted. Aw. I know, right? A little sibling bonding time. :) Air & Space was nothing short of incredible. We stayed for a couple hours but you could spend days taking in all the planes, engines, shuttles, models and related equipment.

I was most excited to see the Spirit of St. Louis: the famous aircraft that Charles Lindbergh piloted from New York to Paris in 1927. I recently finished a brilliant tome by Bill Bryson called One Summer, America 1927 where he recounts the lead up to this famous flight in addition to other historical highlights of that particular summer. A must read! With this in mind I was very anxious to see this plane. We wheeled our way around the first floor and then took the elevator up to the second. And there it was. My initial reaction was that it was all so anticlimactic. The plane looked as though it was a model of a plane rather than the plane itself. It was covered in fabric skin and looked as if it wouldn't survive a loop around the National Mall let alone make it safely across the Atlantic Ocean. Incredible!!

Big Hero 6.....

We saw the movie Big Hero 6. It was excellent and laugh out loud funny; I would recommend it! The theater screens were located on an upper level so when we came out of the movie we headed towards the escalators but they were not running and blocked off. So we started down the several flights of dimly lit stairs. At each break in the stairs there was a yellow line on the stair flush with the level landing before beginning the next set of stairs. I went first lightly running my hand along the railing. Not many know this but as a small child I fell down an escalator and was just lucky enough that my very long hair didn't get caught in it. Admittedly, I've been scarred for life and try to be extra careful when riding escalators and going down stairs. Hence, the reason I was walking close to the railing. I reached the bottom set of stairs, saw the yellow line denoting level ground and then before I knew what was happening my foot was crumpling under my weight and my mind was working to get my body to catch me as I fell to the ground. For some reason that last yellow line on the bottom stair meant there was still one step to go before level ground.

My mom rushed down to me and asked, "Oh my gosh, are you ok?!". At that point I was standing, clutching the railing with my left foot raised off the ground. The misstep was so unexpected that it took a couple seconds to realized what had happened. Then I started to see stars and said, "Mom, I feel like I'm going to pass out". I sat down on the steps straightaway and waited for the stars to pass. They did and from there, leaning on Mom I limped back to the hotel. Thankfully, it was only around the corner. We arrived at our room where I elevated my foot on a big pile of pillows and packed ice around it.

Sitting there I began fuming. I was so angry with myself! How could this happen?! This was my time to enjoy DC and walk a million miles around the National Mall and all the Smithsonians! And here I was with a mangled ankle! Then I began to worry. What if it was broken? Fractured? Ligaments torn? PERMANENT DAMAGE?! And beyond my time in DC what about traveling back to NZ???!!! As you can imagine, I was freaked out, angry and scared. At the same time I was so thankful that I wasn't by myself.

The following morning we perused my foot and ankle, taking in the swelling and terrible bruises that had bloomed overnight. Then my mom said, "That's it! We're going to Urgent Care!". Even though I wanted to have it checked out, just to be sure my immediate response was, "I don't have insurance in this country anymore and what if it costs a lot and they need to do x-rays or whatever else?!". My mom was not dissuaded by any of this talk. She said she was willing to cover any cost and just wanted to make sure I was ok. So we arranged to have the hotel shuttle take us to Urgent Care and I there I handed over my funny looking (to them) NZ ID and they entered my info into the system. After waiting a few minutes we were escorted into an examination room. With some effort I situated myself on the exam table and my mom took another chair. The PA asked me about my overall health, medications and details of the injury. Then the doc came in, took a look, performed the examination and gave us the good and bad news. The good news was that, as far as he could tell, it was not broken, fractured or torn. The bad news was that I had sprained it good! Both sides sprained as evidenced by the swelling and bruising. He wrote me an order for an x-ray if there wasn't any improvement within the next two days and a prescription for Tylenol with codeine. He wrapped it up and let me pick out two more rolls in the color of my choice. I immediately snatched up the purple ones, lightly put on my shoe and I hobbled out of the office. The hotel shuttle picked us up and took us to CVS Pharmacy so I could get the prescription filled. This was challenging because they didn't want to take my NZ address but were happy to take my mom's instead. At that point I didn't care. Then we were told that it would be 40  minutes before it would be ready. I laughed out loud, then collected my wits and said, "Ok, we'll be back". The shuttle took us back to the hotel where I iced my foot again. After the forty minutes had elapsed we returned to CVS to pick up my prescription. The woman asked for my date of birth to make sure I was actually the person that was associated with that particular prescription. I rattled off, "May 4, 1983" without thinking about it because after all that is my birthday. She frowned at the computer and said, "Um, no, do you have another birth date?". I'm usually not so quick on my feet, no pun intended, but immediately said, "No, I just have the one!". :) Then I realized what had happened. When Urgent Care entered my info into their system they took it from my NZ driver's license. And you know, in this part of the world they do dates in the day-month-year format instead of what we know in the US: month-day-year. Then I went on to explain this silly nuance and asked if the date entered had been April 5, 1983. Sure enough. Problemo solved! From there we returned to the hotel where I took some meds, immediately felt the codeine kicking in and got to resting.

We had originally planned to go into the city to meet up with my older brother, Jess, and our mutual friends, Meredith and Meegan for dinner. But with the ankle debacle we had asked if they could come up to Silver Spring and have dinner with us at one of the restaurants attached to our hotel. After they arrived we relayed everything that had happened. I was so embarrassed and felt as though I had ruined this portion of the trip because we had planned to spend time in the National Mall doing a walk around to all the monuments (several miles in total) and visit some of the Smithsonian galleries. But this is a testament to the graciousness of people: none of them were upset but rather expressed concern for me. And from there we hatched a plan to visit the Air & Space Smithsonian and see some of the monuments. I was humbled by everyone's willingness to make it work. :)

On the go......

The following morning we set off to engage in an activity that I'd been dreaming about for months: shopping. Since moving to NZ we've made dramatic strides in effectively and responsibly managing our finances. However, that has meant that we don't have much extra each month for treats. Or shopping. Being one who loves shopping this has been hard but when I was making arrangements to visit DC for Neuroscience I knew I'd have the opportunity to shop for some much needed goodies (like shoes and socks). :)

Our first stop was a sporting goods store where I found a replacement pair of running shoes - this was very exciting! I've started running and have needed to replace my kicks for some time now but prices in NZ are prohibitive. We also found that the store had SmartWool socks - Tim converted me early on and I've been wearing SmartWool ever since. If you haven't tried them they are well worth the cost! Picking out a few pairs for both Tim and I it felt like Christmas-come-early. :)

After that we moved on to DSW Shoe Warehouse - I hadn't expected there to be a DSW so close to our hotel and since they have so many different shoes it was a place we had to visit. Always overwhelming I started walking up and down the aisles and trying on shoes. In the end I found a great pair of choclate brown Born wingtips with velvet laces to match. I needed a pair of shoes that could be dressed up or down and these fit the bill perfectly. I also found a pair of boots and couldn't leave without them. While Wellington weather is never extreme I'd wanted to find a pair of boots like these to wear on rainy days when I have to be out walking. Upon leaving the store with shopping bags in hand I was on cloud nine. :)

From there we returned to the hotel to drop off our shopping bags and set off for the Metro. We zipped down to the National Mall and started making our way towards our destination: The Library of Congress. The Library is located just outside the National Mall on the other side of the Capitol Building. Seeing the Capitol Building was anticlimactic because it was completely encapsulated in scaffolding. This produced a strange effect making it look more like the "Beehive" here in Wellington (Executive Wing of Parliament) than the Capitol Building.

Following the route mapped out in my head we made our way around the side of the Capitol Building and across a green expanse of lawn saw the Library of Congress. While it wasn't labelled as such I was sure we were in the right place. We snapped some photos before going in, through security, and meeting up with the tour group that would start within a few minutes. 

The tour began soon after and we were escorted through some of the main areas of the Thomas Jefferson Building. It is one of three buildings that comprise the Library and house its 150 million items!!! Upon hearing this factoid my jaw hit the floor. I knew the Library was the largest in the world but I had no idea of its scale or the fact that it not only has books but magazines, newspapers, maps, comic books, sheet music, manuscripts and photos.

What was most striking, and what I found most surprising, was the Great Hall. This area of the Library was nothing short of breathtaking; murals, mosaics, sculpture, engraved quotes and stone carvings graced every surface of the mammoth space. The Great Hall was built and adorned as a "statement" of sorts to tell the rest of the world that the US, while in its infancy, could build something just as incredibly beautiful as anything in Europe. Hearing this I thought to myself, "That makes sense". Because it immediately reminded me of the Renaissance architecture and style that graced so many building (inside and out) that we saw when visiting Europe last year. 

Partway through the tour we were escorted to a balcony overlooking the Main Reading Room. Remember National Treasure: Book of Secrets where they run into the Library, through the Main Reading Room, and up to a specific book on a specific shelf? Yeah, I have to bust this one! There is no strolling into the Main Reading Room unless you've gone through the process of getting a "Reader Identification Card". If you want to set foot in there and do work you have to follow the Library's protocols. So the movie, not surprisingly, did a bit of embellishing on that one. :)

I found it most incredible that there were people sitting in the Main Reading Room presumably reading, writing and doing their day to day work. But in the Library of Congress! I thought, "If I lived here I would most definitely study at the Library!".

Our tour ended at Thomas Jefferson's personal library. In 1815 the Library purchased this private collection for what was surely, at the time, a large fortune: $24,000. The books were displayed on round glass shelves that you could walk around. Apparently, the books are arranged this way because he had always wanted a round library so he would be surrounded by his books. Being a book fiend myself I felt a kinship with this man and couldn't agree more with one of his famous quotes: "I cannot live without books". Upon close inspection of the 6,487 titles you could see that some of them had ribbons sticking out from the top of the pages. Some where green denoting that they were original items from his library: the actual books that sat on his shelves. Other books had gold ribbons meaning they were not original items but those of the same edition that had been collected and added to this recreated library. Lastly, there were some items that, to date, had not been found and they were signified by placeholders that displayed their title and author. As you might imagine after seeing his library I've added "round library" to my ultimate wishlist. Simply incredible to see.

After pulling ourselves away from the Library we talked about coming back the following day to get our Library Identification Cards and spend some time in the Main Reading Room. :)

From there we went in search of an Artemide showroom that Google Maps told me was nearby. When my mom and I lived in Minneapolis, MN, a few years back she ran an Artemide Lighting showroom. Artemide is an Italian lighting firm that makes modern, high end fixtures. I even worked at the showroom briefly when I was finishing my undergrad at the U of M, Minneapolis. I only did clerical work but enjoyed working in such a fancy place of business. All that to say we researched and located a DC showroom and, of course, wanted to visit. Unfortunately, upon arriving at our destination we immediately realized there was no showroom to be found. After some head scratching we determined that we had been snookered by Google Maps. The correct street address had been entered but with the wrong direction; instead of NW, where the actual showroom was located, it directed us to SE. Sigh. A bit dejected we caught the metro, via one transfer to another line, back to our hotel. We regrouped, went out for Thai food and then headed to the movie theater around the corner from our hotel.

Smithsonian American Art Museum.......

After lunch mom and I consulted Google Maps and decided we would metro into the city and go to the Smithsonian American Art Museum. While we are both artists and great fans of art I wanted to visit this particular gallery because it houses some pieces from my favorite painter, Georgia O'Keeffe. During the conference I had strolled past this building before realizing what it was. After that I couldn't wait to go back and explore what was inside.

We walked two blocks from the metro stop and were soon picking up a map of the museum. Huddling over the map we considered what to look at first. But I just couldn't wait so instead of looking around we asked where we could find Georgia's paintings. Up to the second floor we went into a "Modernism" section.  Stepping through the door I saw them. Across the room I recognized her style immediately. Now I had seen a couple of her landscapes at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art a few years back. But never her flowers which have always been my favorite. And there was one right in front of me. We popped back and forth between "Hibiscus with Plumeria" and an abstract design deemed "Only One". We marveled at the color combinations and studied her patterns and brush stokes. I've said this before but it's really true: when I look at a piece of art, the longer I look the more I see. It's almost as if the piece transforms before my eyes even though it remains the same - it's just my brain that races to catch up.

We had been walking back and forth between these two paintings that were separated by a large rectangular canvas. During one pass my eyes danced over the description of the larger painting and what I read stopped me in my tracks. It was one of hers as well but I never would've guessed that had I not read the nameplate. Titled "Manhattan" it was nothing like her other paintings. All hard lines and strange color combinations that had us confused. However, upon closer inspection we realized that the painting, while at first glance so very different, still had traces of her in it.

It was hard to believe that I was standing right next to three of her paintings and so it was difficult to walk away. We spent some time perusing the rest of the modern pieces - I really liked this one because it was a painting that looked like stained glass. 

Then we moved on to Impressionism but not before being side tracked by a two panelled stained glass window. Upon close inspection I realized that many of the pieces of glass were not smooth but surprisingly jagged. The pieces extended outward, toward the viewer, from the lead bezel that held each little jewel in place. The effect was striking and nothing that I would expect from stained glass; I had only ever seen completely smooth pieces. These particular windows held the smallest pieces of stained glass I'd ever seen. I couldn't imagine trying to  put these windows together one tiny piece at a time! 

After sitting with the stained glass we did make it to the Impressionists. The photo doesn't begin to do it justice as this is an incredible subject created with a trillion tiny brushstrokes. I have no idea how the artists keep their wits about them when creating such a small portion of the piece with each brushstroke. Incredible. Beautiful and moving.

After checking out a few of the other wings we took a trip through the gift shop and then decided it was time to get back. We walked back to the Metro, disembarked at Silver Spring station and with a little help from Google Maps found a Chipotle nearby our hotel. And no, it wasn't the only place I ate at while in DC! :)

Coke.....

Ok, so mom and I sit down to eat lunch at the hotel restaurant. Now this is going to sound crazy but I have to describe it. When the waitress asked if we wanted something to drink my usual mantra of "no, thank you, I'm fine with water" kicked in automatically. In Wellington we rarely order drinks because of cost so I didn't even process the fact that I'm in the US. The land of Coca-Cola. But my mom immediately jumped in and said, "Don't you want a Coke?". To which I laughed and replied, "Oh! Yes, please!". Not being able to get real Coke in NZ breaks my heart. They make regular (non-diet) Coke and distribute it throughout NZ but the bottling process is different and the end product tastes like diet even though it is not. What could be worse than something that tastes like diet but still has all the sugar?!

Not only did I get to have real Coke but it came in a tall glass filled with ice cubes. After being in NZ for almost three years this has become a novelty to me. If you go to a restaurant here odds are you will not be served any beverage over ice. It just isn't done. And I love ice cold drinks so having my favorite one over ice was a big treat. And I won't lie - I had Coke over ice many a time while in DC. :) The small joys you never knew about until you experienced something different.

Cards.....

This is a break from my DC blogging to tell you, with great regret, that we have dropped the ball and will not be sending Christmas cards this year. :( Failbook! I always enjoy writing them, addressing the envelopes and dropping a great stack into the mail box. However, with all the hubbub leading up to Neuroscience I hadn't been thinking far enough ahead to get this task sorted. Sigh. It's a big frustration and disappointment but this is the reality for Christmas 2014.

On a brighter note I unpacked all of our Christmas stuff and set up the tree - it's looking awesome and already stocked with presents from Tim's family. I love Christmas! Soon it will be St Nick's Day - hence the little stockings. Time to break out the Christmas movies - I've already cued up several Holiday Pandora stations. Christmas is here.

Neuroscience 2014 - Art........

Gigantic mobiles at the convention center. Tennis rackets, bar stools, kayaks, guitars and bikes.