So the Museum

The second most notable event of yesterday was the museum. Let me start by saying, "Ummm..?" and tilting my head to find the right words. (Full disclosure: This same task was so impossible yesterday that when I got home and Heidi asked how the day was, I had to find a YouTube video to explain.)

Spanning five four-story row houses on O Street, the place is a junk shop, maze, historical site, event space, and hotel combo. In addition to vintage toys, baseball cards, dishes, clothing, holiday decorations, and so forth, it also has 80 secret doors and staircases, historical artifacts, a room where Rosa Park spent a considerable amount of time, and 30 theme hotel rooms, including a 2-story log cabin with a kitchenette (just $3100 a night). 

And? Everything is for sale.

 

Coincidentally

I had my first retired friend's lunch today. A former counselor who retired a few years ago and I got together for lunch and a museum visit, but it turned out to be a crazy kind of day. 

When she texted me a couple of weeks ago, I was scrolling through part-time jobs and had just seen an opening for a museum docent. Not recognizing the address, I searched for the place and found The Mansion on O Street. After living here for 35 years, it's not often that I come across local attractions that I have never heard of before, but this was one. 

I copied the link. "How about this place?" I texted my friend.

"Looks fun," she agreed and suggested lunch at Pizzeria Paradiso. 

It had been years since I'd eaten there, but I had recently read an article about the owner and was eager to go back, and so a plan was hatched.

The two of us split a delicious salad and butternut squash pizza with goat cheese, sage, and bacon and were headed out of the restaurant and on to the museum when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and recognized a couple my sister, brother, and I were friends with 38 years ago when we lived in Virginia Beach. 

We hugged, of course, and marveled at the crazy, random encounter. We did a quick catch-up, facilitated by a sprinkling of social media posts over the years, and then we promised to stay in touch and went on our way.

As we walked toward the museum, I thought of all the coincidences and chance occurrences that led to that meeting and how a few seconds on either side would have changed everything. "How often do you think that happens?" I asked my friend, "That you are within steps of people you know but never cross paths with?"

"Probably more often than you would think," she answered. "But how can you ever know?"

A License for That

Whenever we went out to breakfast this summer, my friend Mary would update us on the license plate game she and her sister were playing. Their goal was to spot all 50 states before school started again, and by mid-August, all they needed was Hawaii.

I enjoyed following their progress, maybe because our family played the license plate game on every road trip when we were kids. My mom, who usually drove, loved the game, and although the plates were tough to spot from the backseat, we were all pretty good at it, usually compiling a list of between 25 and 30 on a 3-hour trip down the I95 corridor from Philly to DC.

Years later, my mom played the game in the parking deck at the Mayo Clinic, especially when it was crowded, and we had to wind our way up several levels to find a spot and then make our way back down after the appointment. Riding shotgun, she was very sharp-eyed and could identify cars from all over the country, probably 10-15 a visit.

Now, my sister plays whenever she drives around her hometown of Atlanta. She adds an extra challenge, too, predicting how many different states she might see on any given errand, and she's as good as my mom ever was. 

When we got stuck in terrible traffic on the way back from the beach this summer, Treat and I played. Like Courtney, he added an extra challenge, but his was not writing any of them down. Instead, he would chant them in order whenever we saw a new plate. For my part, I predicted we would find 30, and we did.

Since I retired and it stopped raining, Lucy and I have been walking 3-5 miles a day through the neighborhood, and recently, I noticed just how many out-of-state cars there are parked on the streets around here. For example, today we saw ten: Virginia, Maryland, DC, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Pennsylvania, Washington, and Hawaii. That's a pretty good showing by any of the standards above.

And Just Like That

The curtains are drawn, the lamps are lit, and there's a fire in the fireplace. There will be stew for dinner, and we are bundled up in flannel and fleece. We are resisting turning the heat on, but it may go below 40 tonight, and our thermostat is already at 64, so that plan may be revised.

It's fall, ya'll!

Kindness is Quicker

I was carefully picking tiny cucumbers from the bin of picklers at the farmers market when I noticed someone waiting patiently to my left. "I'm sorry," I said. "Am I in your way?"

"Yes," the market worker answered, nodding to the crate of cukes he was waiting to add. But before I could step aside, he pulled a little cucumber of just the right size from his crate. "How about this one?" he asked.

"Perfect!" I answered, "Thank you!"

From there, it was quick work for the two of us to fill my bag. "I appreciate your honesty when I asked you if I was in the way," I laughed, "and it was really nice of you to help me! Thanks again."

"You're welcome," he said, dumping his cucumbers in the bin.

The Linus Effect

When I was a toddler, my older cousin and her husband offered to babysit me at their apartment one evening. I have a vague recollection of Mr. Ed on the black and white TV, but what I most remember was that there was a satin comforter on the bed. I don't know how it happened, but when my parents came to get me, I got to keep the comforter, maybe because I loved it so much. 

In fact, I loved it so much that I kept it with me and slept with it every night well into my teens. I wore a hole in it, but my mom cut that part away and sewed a new seam, so I had a smaller version. The smooth, cool sensation of that blanket could relax me immediately. In time, even the smaller blanket got a hole in it, and although I kept the tatters for a while, eventually, I realized it was time to give up my security blanket.

We were shopping at Costco a few weeks ago when we happened down the bedding aisle. Not in the market for any such thing, I could have kept on going, but a comforter caught my eye. Labeled a "cooling blanket," there was a sample of it next to the shelf, and when I reached out to touch it, I gasped. Just brushing my fingers against it stirred a visceral memory of my old blanket. I couldn't believe I had found another one after so many decades. We purchased it immediately and put it on our bed, and I have slept soundly ever since. When I wake up in the middle of the night and feel it, I go right back to sleep. That thing literally puts the comfort in comforter. 

A few days later, I realized my cousin's birthday was coming up. The same cousin who once babysat me was turning 79. I found a version of the same comforter and sent it to her. "Thank you," she wrote. It's beautiful and silky, and I keep it on my couch for my day-napping luxury.

I know! I got a couple smaller ones for our own couch, and I hope never to be separated from my blankets again.

Made With Love

Emily's Birthday Menu

Bite-sized Fried Green Tomatoes with Pimento Cheese Cream and Baby Basil
Mini Sourdough Tarts with Cherry Tomato Confit
Pickled Green Beans
Assorted Olives

Handkerchief of Pumpkin Pasta
Green Squash, Shaved Purple Beans, Corn, Prosciutto
Goat Cheese and Preserved Lemon Cream Sauce

Fall Salad Greens
Warm Pickled Shiitakes
Roasted Sweet Potatoes
Miso Mustard Dressing

Cioppino with Carolina Shrimp, Atlantic Scallops, Little Neck Clams, and Icelandic Cod
Housemade Sourdough Bread

Blood Orange and Olive Oil Teacake with Chocolate Glaze
Dark Chocolate Gelato