Now It's Home

We were having such a good time we didn't take any pictures.

I always smile when I read or hear friends remark this about their trips with their families. Everyone was just so into whatever was actually happening whether it was a simple pleasure or complicated endeavor, no one had a chance to step back and capture it for posterity.

Don't get me wrong. I love photos, seeing and taking them. But there's just something very wonderful about being so swept up (or tied up) in an experience you never grab your camera (phone).

So this past weekend when dear friends, old and new, came by amid 100+ degree temps (and post summer mega storm) to break in our new place there was no time to take a photo.

Now several folks were without power (and remain without, sorry guys) so they may have lingered a little longer to enjoy the A/C and avoid the hot boxes that their own houses had become (we'll pretend it's because you were having such a good time).

But, for a few hours of a single afternoon, it was really lovely to have our friends and their adorable (and incredibly well behaved) children fill every inch of first floor with laughter and conversation.

When you settle in a city far from home, your friends become your family. And for well past a decade now, we've been lucky enough to have some of the best friends one could conjure up to have as a part of their lives.

So thanks for helping us officially call DC home for keeps and may it not be as long until we all share an afternoon together again.

Lampshade Economics

Last weekend I purchased a lampshade at Target (said of course with the ridiculous yuppie pronunciation). Simple, functional and turns out slightly damaged when I got it home.

So I returned to Target to exchange it for a new one. No problem. In and out in no time.

The catch.

The original shade was purchased in Virginia. The exchange happened in the District.

It cost me 15 cents more to exchange the shade in D.C.  because of the difference in tax rates. Plus the $1.50 in parking (no free surface lots in Columbia Heights). Of course, I started compounding this cost differential in my head on a variety of things we purchase on a regular basis and was not pleased. Ouch.

And yes, this is where all my Virginia friends can remind me that this is why people move across the river.

Slipping into Summer

Late afternoon as I dipped my toes in the large fountain at the National Gallery Sculpture Park, I closed my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the murmur of people around me and the first notes from the live jazz band drift across the courtyard. This (to me) is Washington in summer. 

There's just something about slipping off your work shoes.

There are a few spots I love to escape to and in the often punishing summer months of our fair city, this is one of them. The cornice of the Archives building in full view, but it's shadow just out of reach. Glimpses of Calder, Paine, Bourgeois appear and fade from view amidst the tightly trimmed boxwood.

Starting a weekend out here seems almost perfect. For as much as I love having the garden almost to myself earlier in the week. Jazz in the Garden brings out melted Washingtonians in droves to perch on blankets and cast aside blazers, to linger over a glass of well queued for wine or sangria. Every piece of grass and pavement is transformed into a private party of friends and new acquaintances.

Taking It All In

Artist Alexa Meade photographs her portrait.

About a month ago, I declared I was selfishly taking the rest of 2012 for me and that if the world wouldn't mind I was just going to enjoy things I wanted to do for awhile and perhaps sit down long enough to enjoy a properly chilled cocktail. (DH very graciously smiled and said, "whatever makes you happy.")

So I've been carving out more time to catch up on the art scene in city and last night I headed over to the National Portrait Gallery to catch their Portraits After 5: Camera-Ready Color organized as a part of their exhibition In Vibrant Color: Vintage Celebrity Portraits from the Harry Warnecke Studio.

Full color and absence of color.

Local DC Artist Alexa Meade created two live portraits that you could interact with and, well they could interact with you. The very definition of ephemeral, these two-hour paintings, merged portraiture, sculpture and photography without missing a beat. To see the work documented on her site is engaging, to see it live is spellbinding. The whole point was to document yourself with the work. To physically interact with the painting.

 It was great to see so many people out to see the spectacle and even better to see people (usually tourists) just happen upon it and get completely drawn in. Bravo to the curators and educators at the Portrait Gallery for finding a great way to bring portraiture to life in a fun and unexpected way, and promoting a local artist to boot. An art hat trick.

Taking in the crowd and canvases at the Kogod Courtyard.

Urban Gardening (Sounds Way More Sophisticated Than Reality)

Something something complete. Yes, after finishing potting the window boxes on our balcony, my first though was a Family Guy, Star Wars reference. This is a sure sign a more significant portion of my brain has been corrupted by the company I've been keeping for the past 13+ years than I am generally willing to admit. Looking at you DH.

Since we moved in we've been wanting to turn the balcony into outdoor living space with plants. Having a tiny patch of access to the outdoors was an imperative for us when we moved and while it may be small, we'll be damned if we won't use every inch of it.

The World Market pillows make the herbs happy.

So this past weekend we discovered Gingko Gardens on the Hill (which is awesome) and stocked up on the hardware, plants and soil we would need to have a microscopic size "garden". It had never occurred to me to use different soil for the herbs/veggies that we eat vs. the flowers that we grow. But, the friendly gardener pointed out that if we use Miracle Grow soil to plant our herbs we'd be ingesting fertilizer through the plants. So of course I bought fancy organic soil-- because I am a total yuppie that can be convinced of just about anything I have little knowledge of will kill me or damage the environment-- and also regular MG soil for the petunias.

Of course, now I have enough soil in my garage to plant at least two other balcony gardens, so give a shout if you need some local dirt.

Squint and you can see the petunias.

Now basking in the gentle rain of this week (a sure sign mother nature agrees with our planting efforts) are:

-Herb box of cilantro, rosemary, thyme, basil and mint

-Box of mesclun lettuce (bought on total impulse, not sure why I need to grow my own)

-Two boxes of lantana, petunias and sweet potato vine (which are way over planted and will likely need to be broken into a third at some point)

-One potted hosta

 Not quite the Marigold Festival Gardens of yore, but here's hoping we can keep it alive and at least enjoy a few appetizers and drinks from our labors. So stop by and enjoy the flowers and a drink while lounging on an IKEA bench or vintage chair we've jigsawed into our little outdoor space.

Stumbling into Running, Again

Wandering through the adjacent fancy-pants neighborhood to ours with the dog is a brilliant way to:

a) be a total voyeur looking in all of the ridiculous embassy houses (where no one actually seems to live)

Iris at one of my favorite new parks.

b) discover some amazing gardens and parks that are tucked in to tiny corners and the roses smell amazing right now

c) scope out future delusional real estate purchases

d) ease from walking back into running

By bringing the dog along, I just seem less creepy (at least I think I do...) doing all of the above and I can blame my super awkward running stride on the dog. He's a total fall guy in this situation.

At any rate, a huge thank you to all my friends near and far who continue to post about their own running exploits, because it continues to inspire me to choose my running shoes over my flip flops and to drag myself out of bed far earlier that I would every normally consider doing (particularly on a Saturday).

So this past weekend when I managed to actually run (let's pretend it's running and not the slow slumped jog it really is) just shy of ten miles, in a row, and didn't die; I realized... why yes, I can be ready to run to the Army 10 Miler this fall and yes, I will be able to have my mile time be fast enough to not get swept. 

Here's hoping I get a bib this week when registration opens up for the rest of us. And now that I've written this I'll try and force myself not to wimp out.