ich Kalliope

Looking for Signs

     

I believe in signs, those messages that come to you in a way that you can either choose to believe or not believe.  Depending on how positive or negative they are, goes my tendency to believe.  Simple huh?  Our journey in Greece was filled with signs, primarily road signs, but nevertheless, they led us to good places.  I believe, I believe!!

Our longest journey from our Marathon "home" was to my grandfather's village, in Central Greece, near the city of Lamia... well sort of near the city of Lamia.  My dad's dad, a gentle soul, whose name I am still proud to use as my middle name, and who keeps this fair-skinned, freckled-face, green-eyed Greek, tied to her real roots.  My papou lived quietly, and enjoyed the simple things.  I thought of him often during this trip, as we enjoyed χορτα (greens) almost every night, as they are in season.  He used to walk for miles in the summer picking bags of them (dandelion greens) for us all.  At that point in time, the palette of the young Kalliope didn't appreciate them, but today... yum! 

As we prepared for this next adventure, we were given a few more details by my dear aunt, my dad's eldest sister, who is keeper of so much that our family holds dear.  Basically, she confirmed the direction, the city and told me that along a road from Lamia to Gardiki, there is a gravel road, that is a street named after our family.  Here lives an uncle, who is a priest and his wife.  He may or may not still be living.  OK... check.  Off we go.

     

Three and a half hours later, we are on some road between Lamia and Gardiki, and a road sign, a new road sign, shiny and bright appears, with our family name on it.  Really, no kidding.  It happened just like that... a sign. 

At the end of the gravel road was a church and house, and in this house was the priest (looking quite healthy with many years to go by the way...pfth, pfth, pfth) and his wife.  We approach the house, and say who we are.  They open the gate and we are immediately with family.  They know who I am.  The last visitors they had from their US clan was almost 18 years ago, but they ask about everyone. 

    

In the cool shade of their courtyard, we sit together and do our best to share stories.  They pull out photos of my papou.  He grew up next door to where we were sitting, the house is no longer there, but it's nice to be this close.  The wedding photo of my papou and yiayia, are all laying on the table in front of me, in this little street, OFFICIALLY named after my family. 

The sign makes it official.  The connection makes it real.  I believe!

On the scent

My dear husband has an uncanny way of finding great bakeries.  Wherever someone is baking up fresh bread and sweets, he will find the track directly to their door.  He's kind of like the CSI version for baked goods.  He hit the mother lode during our stay near Marathon, Greece.

It was evening, the sun had set and we were making our way somewhere.  The road was a bit windy, but we were heading into town when he noticed the biggest mixer ever, outside a small building.  The rest is history.

Φούρνος Αργιδέα, simply Oven Argidea, at 5 Marathonas Avenue, was amazing.  Fresh baked breads, sweets, cookies and pites were stacked high and wide in this neighborhood bakery.  At anytime, something fresh was coming out of the oven, and the owner would always give us a sample to try.  Everything was delicious, everything!  It seems here that you buy things in twos... so when I asked for 6 pieces I got 12... but not to worry we managed through!

Papou the Editor

Even on an incredible sabbatical and journey, where all things seem to fall in place, and the experiences on the road and at home are what you had hoped for, a highlight emerges. 

My most anticipated visit was to the village of my grandfather, my mom's dad, my mom's stepdad to be exact.  I believe that the planning for this trip to Aghios Andreas, the small village in the eastern Peloponnese, started when I was a young girl, as I listened to my papou tell me stories of his village.  I knew I would go there someday.  This was the someday. 

I don't remember when I found out that he was not my mom's biological father, in any case it didn't matter to me.  Most importantly it didn't matter to him.  He was my grandfather in every sense of the word.  And although he passed away when I was 17 years old, his impression, his legacy and his connection to me remain very strong, and at many times throughout the recent past, gets stronger.  He did not have his own biological children, so I learned early, that nurture was as important as nature.  I thank him for teaching me by example, before I even knew I'd need to tap deep into that knowledge.

When I started writing this blog nearly three years ago, a good friend who had started her own blog, gave me some great advice on how to choose the "voice" in which I would write.  She had said that in her blog she had chosen someone that she respected and loved, someone that she felt safe with, and who she could be herself with to "write to".  I knew then, that the person that my blog would be written to would be my Papou. 

Throughout the few years that I've been writing this blog, when I struggle as to how to express myself, I think how would I explain it to my Papou?  When I find myself using words that are too complicated or sophisticated, I ask myself would Papou understand this?  A natural tendency to be a bit sarcastic and dry, is tempered with him as my "editor", and a more humorous approach is chosen.  Anger and frustration is softened as I try to express myself in a way that is not bitter, it doesn't always work, but overall, he is my trusted editor. The voice that I've found in this blog, is due in large part to him.

Arriving in the small village, it was as he described, with the town square and cafe's in the middle, a bit more romantic than the other villages of my other grandparents, but then so was he!  Honoring him by going to his village, sitting in the town square, and in front of the church, was my way of letting him know he is remembered and loved.  That his legacy lives on in me. 

    

    

Spectral Study VII: Clay

This month's spectral study is Clay, a little unexpected, but it's all around me these days that I have spent in Greece.  From sunsets, to earth and rocks, to clay roofs against crystal blue skies, coppery Clay is a new favorite.  It shines and glows, matte and flat, all natural in every interpretation.

As it stands alone in tile work, or as a background color, it is strong but subtle.  The combination of Clay, White, Beige and Crystal Blue cannot be beat, at least today, at least in Greece.  From the villages of my grandparents, to the beaches of Schinias, and the sunsets over Marathon, this is the authentic color of Greece.  

         

        

       

               

     

Stock Up

 

We took the opportunity to do some root tracing while in Greece.  I wanted to go and be in the villages of my grandparents.  To stand where they stood, to understand the distances they traveled to better their lives but most importantly to honor them. 

The first stop was the very small village of my grandmother, my mom's mom, Elatos.  This was a fairly rough ride in the car, so I could not begin to imagine how it must have been in the early 1900's when she lived there, with eight brothers.  Lived there until she was at least 14 or 15 years old.  Reconciling the elegant lady that I knew, with the cliff-hanging village she was born and raised in, I realized that she too was an exercise in contrasts, like me.  I used to ask her wouldn't she like to go back to her hometown for vacation, I have a better understanding now how difficult that might have been for her.  Maybe she didn't talk a lot about the village, or maybe I just didn't ask enough questions.  What I wouldn't do to speak with her today, and ask her "how was it for you?".

There is no family left of ours in the village, and when we arrived it felt a bit abandoned.  There is a new church, built in the 70's, and a school house, both were locked, and there was no one around to ask about the house of my family.  The old abandoned church stood there with it's doors unlocked.  I'm not too adventurous, and get pretty creeped out by a lot of things, but I opened the old door to the church and stepped inside.  Above the door, the date of 1831 was carved in the stone. 

This was the church that my grandmother was baptized in. 

 

The iconostas was still there, most icons removed, but a few remained.  Candle and icon stands in gold stood there looking as new as the day they were placed there.  As polished and proud as the day my yiayia was christened when she was a little baby.  I made the sign of the cross and kissed the icon as we always do, and stood for awhile.  I gained strength and peace standing there.  I was stocking up on all that came before me, and putting it in a place that I can go to, remember and stand tall when times get tough.  

Walking out of the old church the view across the mountains was incredible, the possibilities endless.

This is how we do it

 

 

It's really pretty easy to create this wonderful dinner.  It takes about a day for us, but we've got the time.  Here's the recipe in case you want to try this one out!  Readers of my blog know the basic ingredients so I won't go into too much detail here, what's really important is the order in which you prepare!  Start early, in our case we began at noon.

1. Visit the local butcher.  The one you can trust to give you the best and the freshest cut of meat.  The one who is patient enough to listen, as you try to explain in Greek what you want.  In this case, ask him for 6 lamb chops.  He pulls out a large piece out of his walk-in fridge, slams it down on the butcher block, smiles and says only 6?  OK, make it 10.  Chops 10 nice size chops, and throws in a few extra small pieces that we all know are the best at the end of the grilling process.

2. Buy wine.  In this case, because we trust and now love our butcher, we ask him about the wine he has on the counter.  It's local, and is bottled in 1.5 liter plastic pop bottles.  Not exactly what we would normally buy, but he recommends the red NOT the white. Says he drinks it himself. And we believe him.

3. Buy vegetables.  Stop at a road side stand for tomatoes, cucumbers and green peppers.  In this case, stop at the stand of an elderly couple selling from, most likely, their garden.  Pick out a bag full, and they charge you 1 Euro, for all of it.  We give them 2, because we feel guilty.  You speak to them about the weather, because there is actually a cloud in the sky on this particular day.

4. Marinate the lamb.  This is the hard part, so pay attention.  Prepare the lamb chops with salt, pepper and oregano, ON BOTH SIDES.  Marinate in lemon juice and olive oil, place in the fridge.  Don't let this intimidate you.  You can do it!!

5. Go to the beach.  Spend the better part of the afternoon and the early evening at the beach.  Since you want to let the lamb marinate for at least 4 hours, you've got plenty of time.

6. Open that bottle of wine.  In this case, unscrew the plastic top.  Taste the butcher's choice wine, in this case a dark rose, that is amazingly delicious.  See all that a good butcher can add to your life? We decide we need to find a butcher at home.

7. Prepare the salad.  Make it a typical Χοριατικι Σαλατα (village salad).  Tomatoes, cucumbers and sliced green peppers.  Place a couple of good size pieces of feta cheese on the top.  You're done.  This is the absolute easiest and best salad on the planet.  No bias here!

8. Fire up the grill.  Grill the lamb chops.

9. Enjoy the fruits of your labor.  Yes, it was a long day.  The process took time, it is nearly 10 hours after we started.  Although I tried to include as many details as possible, there were many other things that we needed to do throughout the day that took up a bit more time.  For example, applying and reapplying sunscreen, can take a good chunk of time out of your day.  Finishing that beach novel before the sun goes down.  Stopping at the local bakery, to pick up fresh bread and κουλουρια (cookies).  So plan accordingly!

Kαλη Ορεχη!!  Guten appetit!

Belonging

 

We decided to spend a good chunk of sabbatical time in Greece.  Yes!  And although we are spending mornings slowly enjoying a good cup of coffee, evenings in the local tavernas, afternoons at the beach, and drinking wine and ouzo, we are not only living the life of a tourist.  We opted for an apartment on the mainland, where the Greeks go for vacation, and for living the life of a local.  It is the most relaxing, rejuvenating and restful as we put our lives back home on hold. 

Local vegetable stands selling the freshest tomatoes, peaches, watermelon and peppers.  They really do taste better here.  It must be the sun, the care and the importance placed on eating well!  There are also the crazy drivers, who risk life and limb to gain a spot in traffic, to get to that vegetable stand first.  The stops at the beach at sunset, because the temperature is so hot, and why not stand out in the water and catch up with friends before ending the day.

I am able to embrace not only the heritage that is mine, but learn to understand more deeply the sense of belonging that I am honored to have in both cultures, Greek and American.  Greece is a beautiful metaphor on embracing the past and the future, work and play, urgency and patience.  The elements rule here, as they always have.  Embracing the elements.  Another lesson learned.

Hanging Gardens

As more of us move back into the cities, we are left without our gardens and yards.  That's ok by me.  But as space gets more condensed, and surfaces of healthy, sustainable architecture remain a bit hard, the landscaping in these urban environments are an important element to consider.  So consider this by landscape designers Mia Lehrer and Holly Kuwayama, hanging a garden of succulents. 

Live Art featured in the July/August 2008 of Metropolitan Home is a beautifully innovative solution to bringing a new type of garden to our urban spaces.  The choice of succulents makes this hanging garden lightweight, as they don't need a lot of water, and have shallow roots so they grow in very little soil.  Here in the Pacific Northwest, succulents like sedum grow with abandon.  And the colors, varieties and shapes are to die for. Planting this would be like painting a picture with greens, yellows and burgundies.

     

The perfect solution as we try to live a bit lighter on the land.  Take up less space, and build right.  As presented in the work of designer Bruce Mau in Massive Change, "the future of cities is vertical". 

Gardens too.

Quick and Smart

I know that I've kept many of you waiting with my decision about THE car.  Sorry, but it really has taken this long.  And as luck would have it, the car I want now, won't be available until end of this year or maybe early 2009!  That's right - here I go again.  Lusting after a car that doesn't yet exist in a form that I can visit! 

But I'm feeling confident that this is it.  Drum roll please...  the 2009 Audi S4. 

Latest news is that Audi will use the V6 engine, instead of the V8 to lighten the car up, and to be more fuel efficient.  It's super-charged, bringing more power at lower revs (that's what my husband says, and I believe him!).  Heck, it practically sounds like a hybrid now!  So until then, I'll whip around in my 3.2 liter A3, wishing it was bigger, heavier and more luxurious.

Now let's talk color.  It's going to have to be a dark color, and I'm not necessarily sold on black.  I would like a really, really, dark blue metallic.  Like the night sky in the photo of Toronto below.  Beautiful.  Also not available as yet... but since when does that stop me?

Spectral Study VI: Green

My sixth spectral study is late,  where did June go?  I'm not wearing a watch these days, and only know that today is the 4th of July, so I missed June.  Well here goes, in a pinch, go to your favorite.  Go to what you know, what you can rely on, what inspires and looks beautiful to your eye no matter what.  For me, it's Green.

       

         

      

       

Getting my Greek on!

As I've written here before I do consider myself a foodie, although I am seriously contemplating the validity of tagging myself that.  The reason for my doubt and insecurity is that in reality, I use about five ingredients consistently.  Olive oil, lemon juice, oregano, garlic... ok four ingredients.  SIX if you count salt and pepper.  Let's count them!

We're lucky to be spending about 2 1/2 weeks in Greece this summer.  So as I prepared my shopping list for the grocery store upon arrival it looked like this:

• Olive oil, direct from the source
• Lemons
• Feta cheese, which I can eat for three meals a day, and do. 
• Olives, any kind, preferably in a can which you can't find often here in the US.  Olives are my favorite, and they've gotten me into some trouble in my past.  The only time I ever got into hot water with my yiayia, was over an olive incident when I was 12 or 13, but that's for another post.
• Greek bread, although you don't have to ask for Greek bread, just bread.  Crusty, covered with sesame seeds, and never eaten with butter, and accompanies the feta cheese in 2 out of the 3 meals.
• Tomatoes
• Red Wine
• Oregano

As my friend wrote me in a sweet note before I left for sabbatical, it's time to get your Greek on! More like putting into overdrive.  As luck would have it, I found authentic Greek olives, in a can, at my grocery store down the street. 

The ingredients above went into a fresh yogurt cucumber mint dip. Perfect with meatballs or veggies.  Olives on the side.  There will be no incident, I promise! 

Groove More, Sit Less

We went to see Earth, Wind & Fire at the Clark County Amphitheater up in Ridgefield, Washington last night.  The concert was fantastic!  On our feet the entire time, dancing to what has to be some of the best music ever written.  The kind of music that makes me completely, and utterly happy.  I grew up with an Earth, Wind & Fire soundtrack playing in the background of my high school and university years, so the connection was deep rooted and it was easy to get right back into that space where good music, good friends and great dancing was all you needed. 

A quick glimpse around me, made me realize I wasn't in Chicago.  Not that I'm commenting negatively on the quality of the dancing in Clark County, Washington  - yeah, well, actually I am.  

It could not have been a more perfect start to sabbatical, a beautiful summer evening, with my husband, sharing a couple of beers, dancing to Earth, Wind and Fire!  I am reminded of the joy that dancing has brought me for many years of my life, and realizing that I need to dance more.  Especially now. 

Sabbatical...

... from the Greek word sabbatikos, σαββατικόσ, of course! 

I am lucky to have a sabbatical this year!  Good thing, I need it, and dare I say I deserve it.  Yes... I said it, I deserve it.  Dictionary.com defines sabbatical as bringing a period of rest, yes sweet underrated rest.  It also defines it as an extended period of leave from one's customary work, especially for rest (there's that rest thing again!), to acquire new skills or training. 

Hoping to do both during the warm, sunny days of summer - starting today.  My expectations are high, but that's most likely cause I'm still a bit wound up from the day-to-day, and just about as excited as I can remember.  Stay tuned, as I get rested and acquire new skills, many (not all) which I will share here over the next six, yes 6 weeks! 

Suit up!

 

In the aftermath of the sad passing of NBC news reporter and moderator of "Meet of the Press" Tim Russert, NBC announced yesterday that Tom Brokaw would be coming out of retirement to be the host of the famous program through the US elections of 2008.

I like Tom Brokaw, he was my favorite news anchor when I watched the evening news.  But is this all NBC could find?  Was there no one on the bench ready to suit up?  Were there no women in the cue?  The only viable alternative was to ask Tom to come out of retirement?  Really?

I've seen this play out in other places too.  Big jobs, opportunities abound, and the spots are filled with men that get pulled out of retirement, or given to men who should be in retirement. Hillary being the only viable female candidate, just one, is another example of the lack of bench strength we have built as women.

Where are we?

Bottom line... we've lost our place in line.  Or perhaps have we stepped out of line knowingly.  I believe it's a combination of both, and neither helps the next generation of women and girls.  So as Tom Brokaw moves towards retirement yet again in November, I hope that there's someone from my team ready to suit up.

I heart L.A. ...what did she say?

    

   

Yes, I'll say it again, I love L.A., as in California.  

I am surprised too.  

My friend at Autologue recently wrote rhapsodic about her recent trip to LA LA Land, but it didn't convince me. I've been to LA several times, and have never, ever come away with any kind of understanding, vibe or sense of what that city holds.  That is until I experienced LA last week.  

And although this post is going to be about some great coffee I had, and the previous dealt with a great cupcake, it's not because of the food and drink!  It's about the light, the diversity, the community and what I actually think is the livability factor in L.A.  

Has something changed in L.A.?  Am I so sun deprived that this was all it took, 4 straight days of high 70's, blue skies and not a cloud in sight?  Why the connection, why now?  The traffic didn't even really play the major role that it usually does... hmmm?

I had coffee at LA MILL COFFEE on Silver Lake Blvd, in Silver Lake.  The coffee was amazing.  Granted I'm a big coffee drinker, but in no way a connoisseur.  I like my coffee black normally, nothing fancy.  Once in awhile I will splurge on what a friend introduced me to, a wet cappuccino.  And of course when I am in Italy, well you know.  So since I'm not a connoisseur I can't really describe what I liked about LA MILL COFFEE, I've tried but I really can't.  It tasted wonderful.  Some were saying it was a whisper of orange, a touch of clove... I don't know.  The place itself was beautiful.  Calm, cool, well designed.  Very L.A.  Their use of color was unique to most coffee shops.  Their signature iced aqua was used from product to packaging and felt perfect for both.

It's nice to have a new favorite city, that's actually reachable in a couple of hours.  So yes, I heart L.A. Great cupcakes and coffee add to that to be sure!

Hello Cupcake!

On a recent trip to L.A. we happened upon the Bluebird Cafe in Culver City.  I  know, it's not likely to "happen upon" anything in Los Angeles, it's more of a destination kind of place, but really, we happened upon this spot! What a find, the food was excellent, and come to find out a writer for LA Weekly considers it one of Los Angeles' 99 Essential Restaurants.  After a fantastic lunch, we were treated to their signature cupcakes.  I've blogged about the popularity of cupcakes before, and feel the need to post this gorgeously simple photo of Bluebird's chocolate cupcake.  This style of sprinkle, confetti, is my favorite too.  

Kalliope considers the Bluebird one of Los Angeles' 3 Essential Restaurants, still working on the other two... now where's Culver City again

On the road again

El Capitan Canyon, near Santa Barbara, California

I love to travel, and road trips are one of those things that we don't do quite as often as we'd like to.  The open road, a simple cooler in the back with a loaf of good bread, cheese, salami and the freedom of stopping when and where you want is pretty sweet.  The days are filled with great views, and a chance to spend sometime with my dear husband in the car, where we're not discussing the quality of his urban driving skills.

Ultimately during these road trips we have to find a place to overnight and that's where it gets dicey.  Since we are fans of pretty fine cars, our days on the road are spent in luxury with solid performance, a combination that can't be beat.  The contrast to the hotels along these beautiful roads and vistas in the US is quite remarkable.  Now don't get me wrong I'm not a travel princess... ok... I am a travel princess, my imagination can get the best of me when I check into some of the hotel chains on the road. 

So imagine my delight when I read about the new phenomenon of Glamping in the May issue of Sunset magazine.  Needless to say, I'm not a camper in the traditional sense.  Surprised anyone??  A relationship in my early 20's actually ended over a camping trip.  But I digress.

Glamping, roughing it in style, and I do mean style! These luxury camp sites are popping up all over the world, and may be the last threshold to achieving a truly remarkable road trip.  They are crazy expensive in some cases, and in others they compare to a night in a fine hotel.  That fine hotel room, covered in canvas and set in some of the most beautiful countryside imaginable. Fireplaces, down-bedding, great meals cooked for you and s'mores brought directly to your "tent". 

Clayoquot Wilderness Resort, near Tofino, BC

Paws Up Tent City, Greenough, Montana

Spectral Study V: Red

Red is one of my absolute favorite colors.  Red has legs.  Interesting that I want to post red now, in May.  It's a bit seasonal, may fit better post September.  But it's dark, rainy and cold here in the Pacific NW, so it fits OK, today.  I feel a bit sorry for red these days as it's associated with a particular party here in the US that I find particularly repelling.  Politics aside, I prefer red to blue most days.

Red lives in the natural and artificial world.  Can be matte, metallic, sheen or shine, and works.  It can be fast, think Ferrari, or rich, think roses, or brilliant, think candy apples!  Many have written that red is a power color, I don't buy into that color psychology for the most part.  Although I did buy a pair of red golf shoes once, and got the comment on the golf course that I really must know what I'm doing out there if I was wearing shiny red leather golf shoes.  Ha!

So here's to red, always passionate, always confident and comfortable in any situation.  I heart red.

        

          

         

         

A beautiful game indeed

I have had the opportunity to attend the Milan Furniture Fair for the past five years.  Lucky Kalliope, I know.  Every year I am blown away by the awesome creativity and amazing craftsmanship that makes this show the premiere design forum in the world.  Furniture leads the way, but along the journey of experiencing Milan during the fair, other objects surface to catch your eye, your imagination and your desire. 

This year a Foosball table, The Beautiful Game from Gro Design in Eindoven, The Netherlands was for me the pinnacle of design and craftsmanship, form and function, surfaces and forms, finishes and color.  Inspired by the stature that a football stadium brings to it's home city, think Allianz Arena in Munich, The Beautiful Game, raises the stature of the simple foosball table to new heights. 

Wow!

Next Up!

My dear husband crosses the threshold into his 2nd half-century on this planet in very short order.   It will be exactly one year and 14 days after my milestone crossing, and I'm happy to have him join my club.  It's been fun planning his fiftieth celebration, really fun.  There are a couple of events involved, and he could not be more excited about them.  Although my husband and I are similar on many fronts, we are quite different in how we choose to celebrate. 

Where as I took off for Vegas with a few family and friends, and missed those who couldn't make it, he has chosen to stay "home" here in the Pacific Northwest.  He considers this place home.  And although some distant travel is involved, many of the people he would like to surround himself with are people we have met in the last ten years.  How nice is that? 

It's helping me tremendously to ground myself where we are.  I'm not there yet.  Hey, it's only been ten years!  It's not easy for this Greek girl.  I truly believe it is in my DNA to cautiously accept outsiders into my circle.  Why is that?  I moved away from my Chicago clan almost 30 years ago.  Family is my comfort zone, and I am happy to say that this includes my dear in-laws, all of them.  They live in Germany.  Probably why Munich was home from the minute I landed there. 

We choose to celebrate differently my husband and I.  As he gets truly excited with every plan we make, every bottle of wine we choose, dinner menu selected, and every RSVP he receives, I am grateful to be on this ride with him. 

Don't it Make My Green Eyes Blue

I hope that there is a silent majority, sitting back, waiting to cast their votes in the remaining presidential primaries that do not want politics as usual.  Who understand the importance of casting their vote for a candidate who can regain confidence in America’s potential and position globally, by regaining the world’s trust and respect in our country.  Voting on the content of their character.  The recent conversations flooding our airwaves have little to do with what is best for America and Americans, and the real issues we face after almost 8 years of ignorance and hubris. Not to mention decades of politics as usual, Republican and Democrat.  It simply makes these green eyes blue. 

Spectral Study IV: Yellow

It's April, and we're sun deprived here in Pacific Northwest.  The warmth of yellow is calling out.  Yellow is a difficult color to wear.  Despite that I still predicted that yellow and grey would be the colors at this year's Academy Awards.  I was wrong.  That's surprising, a shock really... at least to me.  Grey yes, yellow no, but RED. 

So I gave it some thought, and here's where I landed.  With the writer's strike in full swing earlier this year, the Golden Globes, normally held in January, were canceled.  All those RED gowns chosen for January's ceremony, were held until March, and pulled out for the Academy Awards.  Thus no yellow.

So was I wrong? We'll never know.  In any case.  There's a reason why yellow was chosen for the Smiley face popularized in the 70's, it's happy.  It begs the question, can it ever look sad?  Best in small doses, here's this month's spectral study - yellow.

      

     

      

      

What's a pergola?

We just spent a fabulous week in Mexico, sunny and 85 degrees everyday for 8 days straight.  Wonderful.  We stayed at a beautiful place, and for the first 4 days we spent our days sitting poolside, a few steps away from the beach, enjoying the sun, water and some good books.  OK, some average books... I didn't pick winners this vacation, but I digress.

The resort offered pergola's that you could rent by the day, directly on the beach.  We convinced ourselves that we really didn't need a pergola, once we figured out what a pergola was.  Then one day when we came back to our room we had a message that said we received a complimentary pergola the next day.  OK, we'll give it a try.  You see, we didn't fancy ourselves Pergola People.

From one day to the next I went from not knowing what a pergola was, to can't live without it now.  Everything is better in a pergola.  The Bloody Mary's have more vodka, the bottled water tastes better, the sky is bluer, the book is better (ok, not even a pergola can help a bad book), the people sitting next to you (not too close) are friendlier.  As we packed our things up at the end of our first Pergola experience we contemplated renting one the next day. 

I always go through guilty moments at these times.  Do I really need this?  Aren't the beautiful pools enough?  Isn't being at a beautiful resort enough?  If it's not Greek Guilt on my side, it's German Austerity on my husbands!  I come from a people who put a straw mat on a pebbly beach and that is luxury.  They last the whole day on the beach, lined up body to body, and that's wonderful.  No umbrellas, nothing.  Just a mat a bit smaller than the body on it.  That's good enough.  It's wasn't in my DNA to want for a pergola. 

Well, it is now.  We are official Pergola People, and proud of it.  We decided we needed to reserve one for the remainder of our trip. 

Did I mention that they had a special pergola, where they offered massages right on the beach?  The luxury of a massage IN a pergola, directly on the beach, now that's going a bit too far for this Kalliope.

No this, in that.

                                       

On a recent plane flight, we were "served" the customary snack, this time it was pretzels.  On closer inspection, I noticed that they were cinnamon pretzels. 

I proceeded to put them in the seat pocket in front of me, just in case at some point during the 4-1/2 hour flight I got so hungry that they would be appealing.  When my husband saw me shoving that little bag away, he looked my way, as if to say... "can I have those?"  His had already disappeared.  I asked him if he wanted mine (this is the kind of sacrifice I make for those I love).  He calmly said to me, "they shouldn't put cinnamon on pretzels".   End of story, he's right.

It got me thinking, there are a number of examples in our modern lives of where I truly believe there should be no this... in that.  Primarily an American phenomenon, we like to combine things we like.  We sometimes just can't resist the urge and leave well enough alone. 

Cinnamon on pretzels.  Blueberries in bagels.  Vanilla in coffee.  Red pepper in chocolate.

I think I can build a good solid list of "no this, in that".  It doesn't have to stay in the food realm.  Examples like, Woodgrain on Car Panels, pops to mind!  Any ideas out there? 

Spectral Study III: White

Technically white is not a color because there is no hue.  But we all know that our whites don't always match, and some whites are whiter, and along with black it's the most versatile non-color-color there is.  I love white, crisp Brooks Brothers blouses, T-s from the Gap, fresh notebook paper.  The car companies compete at their highest level for the best white.  All that for a non-color.  Nothing is cooler, cleaner, fresher, crisper or bolder.  It's spring, and it's time for white! 

      

     

      

      

My time has come...

...but times have changed!

When I was growing up I used to watch in envy as my parents would get ready to go out with friends.  Back in the day they would get dressed up, and as I am not 100% sure today where they were going, what I do remember is that I wanted to go too.  I used to voice that over and over again, I want to go too.  I want to do that too.  I want to see that too.  My mom would calmly say to me "your time will come". 

In that short response to my desire to experience all right a way, I have to say that she let me know that I too would have the chance to do and see it all.  And I have.  Does this anticipation, patience building, delayed pleasure and separation between the generations still exist?  I think so, I hope so. 

There's one five year old spending his vacation at the same place we are in Mexico, and I wonder what the heck he's going to be looking forward to as he grows up.  His time has come, and how!  He's already taken over the Happy Hour club every evening, yes Happy Hour is open to five year olds.  He was drinking his Diet Coke and Fanta Orange out of the last wine glasses.  We drank our wine from little juice glasses.  OK, not bad, that's how they do it in Greece anyway... we're not in Greece.  He stood up on the buffet table to grab his handful of chips and appetizers.  And screams his way through card games when he's not winning.  I don't think his grandma ever used the "your time will come" on his mom.  They're all here, maybe I'll ask! 

I'm careful when I speak about children and discipline.  But it's a safe bet to say, I would use the "your time will come" on them if I had the chance.

Industrial Beauties

I am fascinated with industrial details, machines, tools and castings.  I've been inspired by sewer plates around the world.  Here's two that I discovered, one in Tokyo, the other at a construction zone in my neighborhood.  Interesting that they both use similar colors.  Decoding these maybe something that I put on my list of things I want to do when I'm retired.  Any hints out there?   

Did somebody say donut?

And pub? 

Imagine my sheer excitement and awe, in the back of a cab, stuck in a bit of New York City rush hour traffic, when I spotted The Donut Pub, located on W 14th at 7th Ave.  Traffic was slow enough for me to snap a quick photo, which I'm considering printing, framing and hanging somewhere important.  Maybe even giving as gifts.

Convergence of so many things I consider to be wonderful. 

First, donut.  Really, there's not much better than a good fresh donut.  The traditional cake-type are my favorite, I'm not a big fan of the airy-melt-in-your-mouth Crispy Cremes.  Although if put in front of me, they'll do in a pinch.

Second, neon lights.  I love neon signs.  The simpler the better, and it doesn't get more simple than this.  They call out to me, and give me a feeling of authenticity.  I trust neon.

Last, a pub.  A small, cozy place to get together with the like-minded.  In this case, donut lovers.  I'm a bit skeptical of what this crowd might look like, gathered in one place, but I'm planning on giving it a try on my next visit!  The online reviews are raving.