Last post from America

I can't believe that my last post was only a week ago - we have covered so much distance since then! When ADC returned the car this morning, he had driven it for about 2500 miles. 

On July 29, the first day of our road trip proper, we set off quite early, heading for the Columbia River Gorge. Our first stop was at Vista House, built in the 1920s specifically for viewing the gorge at its finest. The very enthusiastic docent there gave us maps and lists of waterfalls to visit as we made our way along historic Route 30, one of the first roads ever built expressly to encourage motoring to natural beauty spots. ADC, who spent a year in Eugene when he was in fourth grade, remembered many of the names, and the description of the Bonneville fish hatchery, where the fish jump up a ladder ... the and his family then probably made many short trips along the route we covered in a single day. We stopped at Bridal Veils to admire the waterfall, but were unable to stop anywhere else along Route 30 due to the lack of parking. And this was in the middle of the week! As we drove along, we stopped at random places to look at the gorge and/or Mt Hood and for ADC to take pictures. Today was the beginning of a heatwave supposed to continue to the weekend, and we definitely felt temperatures we had not experienced since leaving the DC area. On the other hand, there was very little humidity, so we were able to spend nearly an hour walking in 36C heat. For the first time, it felt like summer should: neither the humidity of DC nor the chilliness of Washington. That was after we had crossed the Cascades into the rain shadow desert of central Oregon. The landscape changed dramatically almost immediately: from green to yellow, looking more and more like the Golan Heights with the basalt rocks and grazing beef cattle. As the temperatures rose, visibility improved, and when we came across a mountain identification plate at the crest of Mt Criterion, we were able to see, in addition to the easily identifiable Mt Hood, also Mt Adams - far away in Washington, Mt Jefferson and the Three Sisters. 

We spent a lot of time in the car that day and heard a great deal of music, the "West Coast Playlist" that ADC had prepared in advance (including, as well as musicians from California and Seattle, anyone else who seemed to have been influenced/was mocking them). We spent the night just beyond Bend in the kind of place that ADC has been looking for since our first trip in the USA: a small motel called Rodeway, cheap but clean, with very few frills, but with a room large enough for each boy to have his own bed. It is part of a chain, but not one we had come across before.

Next day we set off  for Crater Lake, hoping to escape the forecast heat. In fact, ADC was very worried that we might not be warmly enough dressed and told the children to expect to see snow on the ground (which they interpreted as "it might/will snow", it seems). In the event, there was no snow whatsoever - to the extent that the illustrated signs were false - and the weather was a pleasant low 20s Celsius. Once again, we were in a new plant zone, and on one walk Ariel became quite frustrated by the number of birds he could hear, but not see, and was unable to identify. All the same, I filled over a page in my little notebook with flowers, birds, a rodent (golden-mantled squirrel) and a butterfly (variegated fritillary). Crater Lake itself was an amazing sight - such deep blue water! It seems that even the geology in the New World is younger than what I am used to from Israel, measured in thousands rather than millions of years, but I know that that is an artefact of the volcanic Cascades range. We went on two shortish hikes - we are impossibly thorough in our nature observing, especially me when I'm not familiar with the flowers, so we didn't have time for more than that. 

Once we left the park, we were in the middle of nowhere. We passed through a couple of motels at the side of the road just after 5 p.m., but it was two early to stop, and once we entered the Rogue River Gorge, there was nothing for more than an hour. We were just starting to get a bit concerned when we reached Shady Cove, where we found the Platonic ideal of an old-fashioned motel with a diner alongside it. The rooms were cheap enough that Amos and Shaul could have a room to themselves (which turned out to have ants, so they were upgraded to s suite, thus they each have a room of their own), and at supper I had a butterscotch milkshake, which more than made up for the only vegetarian option being a mediocre garden burger. 

We reached California just before noon on July 31st, and also reached yet another climate/vegetation zone - to the extent that ADC bought me a new plants and animals pamphlet, specifically for the redwood forests national and state parks. The size of the redwoods is truly amazing. Together with the enormous sword ferns growing on the forest floor, I felt as if I were Alice after drinking the "Drink Me" flask, as we walked along the Stout Grove loop (the grove was established as part of an effort prevent further logging of the redwoods in the 1920s and was named by Mrs Clara Stout in honour of her husband, a lumber baron). We left Shady Coves that morning still in the throes of a heatwave, with added forest fires (the car was lightly coated with flakes of ash). When we reached Crescent City and the Pacific coast in the late afternoon, the temperature was 40 degrees Fahrenheit lower than they had been 24 hours earlier! No wonder there is constant fog flowing from the Pacific. To top the natural wonders of the day, we saw a small herd of elk - females and juvenile males - browsing at the side of the road just before leaving one of the sections of the state park. Our original plan had been to stay at a motel in Eureka along US 101, but when we arrived, they were all very sleazy-looking, so we found a place a few blocks into town, where we got a suite, so we have our own room, and each boy has his own bed. We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant, the first good South American food we've had (the mediocre Salvadoran meal we had as our first lunch clearly had an long-term effect, albeit an unconscious one).

August 1 was a long day, which can be summed up in two words: driving and eating. As our motel did not include breakfast, we decided to eat a few remaining things that we had bought for hikes, and to stop after the Avenue of the Giants for brunch. We set off just before 9 a.m., stopped for brunch two and a half hours' later, and at 3 p.m. really needed another break. We stopped at the closest place Google Maps suggested, Frozen Art in Santa Rosa, where we had some of the best ice-cream I've ever had. The owners are Mexican, and there were some very interesting and unusual flavours - I had a scoop of honey and lavender ice-cream, and another of rose petal. ADC had corn ice-cream! They also had paletas, or home-made popsicles, and there the flavours were even more interesting: cucumber and melon, pico de gallo, and pine-nut were just a few. 

At 5 we finally reached our Airbnb in Oakland. This was our first time doing Airbnb, and we didn't really know what to expect - we were not expecting to get the run of an empty family home, including a hot tub! There are also two cats, that come with the house. The only downside is that there is almost no closet space: the family that lives here has gone on holiday for three weeks, and decided that this was better than getting a house sitter. Finally, we went over to ADC's cousins  J&L  for dinner. It was possibly the best Chinese takeout I've ever eaten - if all Chinese restaurants served food like Shan Dong does, I would have a better opinion of Chinese food for vegetarians.

Much of Sunday and Monday were spent with cousins. We essentially spent all of Sunday with J&L - as BART was not working, we stayed in Oakland. We walked around Lake Merritt, ate pizza from Arizmendi (the original of the pizza place that serves only one flavour in Inside Out), and visited the Oakland Museum of California, which is free on the first Sunday of the month. We spent nearly two hours there, only in the History hall. I had known very little of the history of California previously, and it was good to get the Spaniards, Mexicans and Americans sorted out. It was also very useful to know a bit about the development of San Francisco before going there the next day. At the very end of the hall was a small historiographical exhibition, explaining how curators worked and derived history from material objects. Monday was our first day in San Francisco itself. We used three kinds of transport: BART, the cable car and a historic street car (made in 1948 and originally from Cincinnati, according to the posters inside it). Our first stop was in the Mission district, where we met my father's first cousin W and her family for brunch at their home. I last saw W when I was about seven, and didn't remember her at all. I am not sure we would have met so easily at the BART station if I had not said in advance that I would be wearing my purple skirt! W and her husband T were very welcoming. We talked about all kinds of things, and met their daughter M and her boyfriend J. M is about to begin medical school and J is a chef; I think we persuaded him to seriously consider visiting Israel (he isn't Jewish) by telling him about the goat cheeses made in the desert just beyond Omer. When we left, S asked them to come for his bar mitzvah in two years' time. After over two hours' having brunch, T was very happy to walk us around the upper Mission district, taking us to see Dolores Park and Mark Zuckerberg's house, and pointing out particular architectural features. I must say that the so-called Victorian style in San Francisco is lovely. After we said goodbye to T, we continued down Valencia St, looking at all the weird and wonderful shops, of which the weirdest was surely the steampunk emporium of Paxton Gate. The boys really wanted to buy things there, but we restrained them by pointing out the restrictions on importing animal parts from one country to another. After moving from Valencia to Mission St., we caught another BART to Powell St., where we wanted to get the cable car to Fisherman's Wharf. The line there was incredibly long, but we noticed that the cars were not full when they left - indicating that there were additional stations along the way. We walked just a short way up Powell to the next station, and were able to catch the next but one car, instead of the fifth or sixth car. It's very interesting how people see a line and join it, and very few think of ways to shorten their wait time. We saw a similar phenomenon at Ghirardelli Square, where you could get sundaes either at the Ghirardelli Marketplace (half empty and no queue when you approached the counter after walking past the displays of chocolate bars) or at the Ghirardelli Fountain (queue coming out of the store and around the block, for the same over-priced sundaes). Fisherman's Wharf itself was pleasant to walk along. The boys went down to the beach and paddled for a bit - I also saw small children in puffy coats! We were a bit tired by the time we finished wandering around that area, and took a street car back to Market St., where we wandered more in search of supper. It turned out that Market Street is very like Soho in London, in that the restaurants and the sleazy places are very close to each other. After half an hour, I forced ADC to book a table in an Indian restaurant, just to be sure that we ate somewhere with decent food at reasonable prices. On the way there, we found a jazz bistro called Les Joulins, which is where we ended up eating supper: very good food and even better music. It later turned out that this is one of the premier spots for live jazz in the city; as we had missed hearing a jazz quartet that IB and E like very much in Seattle, this more than made up for it.

Wednesday was a relatively restful day, in that we did not spend all of it on our feet. Instead, we went for a scenic drive (there's something we hadn't done in a while :-)) through Golden Gate Park, over the Golden Gate bridge and along route 1 to Stinson Beach. We had a bit of a late start, and saw the toll change from $6 to $4 while in line at the Bay Bridge at 10 a.m. On the way to the Golden Gate Park we saw some very different SF neighbourhoods from the ones we had seen by foot, like the millionaires' haven of Sea Cliff, where we saw the kind of crescent that in Bath has 18th-century row houses adorned here with mansions, and Richmond, which looked rather like a place we would enjoy living in. The day was chilly and overcast, so we didn't spend too long in the park, as A and S wanted to cross the bridge as soon as possible. We overheard an Irish guide giving instructions to a group of cyclists who were going to cycle over the bridge and A really regretted having to be stuck inside a car! The view from the bridge was as spectacular as promised, and so was the view from the vista point on route 1. I had a bad attack of car-sickness going around all the twists and turns, both coming and going, to the extent that I believe that I made the right decision to skip soft-serve ice-cream at Stinson Beach. Everyone was very sorry for me, and I'm not sure why I was so badly affected while the boys - who also tend to car sickness - seemed perfectly fine. Part of it, I think, was that somehow I was never at the right angle for the win to blow in my face. That aside, Stinson Beach was a lovely day out: we paddled a bit, despite the cold and even drizzle, but were amazed at the people actually swimming! The Pacific is so much colder than the Med, and the posters warning of rip tides and sharks were quite alarming. We found a nice little book shop, and more importantly at the moment, I found a post office, where I picked up boxes so we can send at least some of our books home via media mail and hopefully avoid paying overweight on our flight. The day ended with more ice-cream, this time at Fenton's Creamery, and the welcome news that our flight time had been changed: instead of leaving SFO at 8:30 with a 6 hour layover at JFK before taking off for Tel Aviv, we are now leaving at 13:20 and have only 2 hours' layover, arriving in Tel Aviv at the same time, but hopefully less complete wrecks.

Yesterday we went back into the city, entering and leaving from the Montgomery Street BART station. We began by visiting a tea and chocolate shop we had seen from the cable car, called Spicely. We spent much longer than expected there, and did not walk out empty handed (despite our luggage concerns). If Spicely opened a cafe in Powell's bookstore in Portland, I think we would move in permanently. After that, we resumed walking up Montgomery Street to the Coit Tower. We didn't go up it, but looked at the view. We then took all the steps down through Grace Marchand Garden to Battery Street and began looking for lunch. That took longer than expected, and we ended up at The Planet, an organic cafe where the men each had a different kind of sandwich and I had an interesting tomato and watermelon salad. ADC and I had juices (and I remembered why I actually prefer them without food), and Amos expanded his horizons and had a smoothie. We then went to the Ferry Building marketplace, and bought artisanal bread, cheese and salami for an early supper - ADC and the boys went with Jeremy to see Ant-Man. A and S enjoyed themselves greatly, especially S; ADC, as usual, was distracted by the bad science involved and its inner inconsistencies. I stayed home, began packing, and tried to get T-Mobile to unlock our phones so we can use them in Israel but was defeated due to not being ADC (in whose names all the lines are). This was after we'd made a special detour to a T-Mobile shop in town, having understood that the unlocking could be done there on the spot. I did make some progress, though, and as I used the chat, the agent assured me that we wouldn't need to give all the information again. I think chat helplines are brilliant: I'd tried calling, first, and ended up unsure if the agent had understood me properly, or I him. With chat, everything is much clearer and you can go back and check what you said much more easily.

I'm writing this after getting back from supper with J&L, with whom we spent much of the day today. We got a relatively late start, as there were several errands that had to be done before we could go into San Francisco one last time - mailing books (it turns out that media rate does not apply to boxes, so that was $87 - but paying for overweight luggage and having to check both trolley suitcases would probably have come to more), finally getting the unlock codes from t-Mobile, and returning the car to the rental agency. We eventually met J&L at noon, and went for a walk through Chinatown. L didn't grow up there, but her parents still have close connections and apparently her father takes two buses to go shopping there almost every day. She attempted to haggle with the seller at a jade shop where A bought a small elephant to add to his collection, but he was too quick and paid without question. We had lunch at a place whose name I didn't catch, and whose clientele seemly evenly divided between Chinese and non-Chinese. It was very good. especially the deep-fried salt and pepper eggplant we had as a starter and the garlicky pea shoots. After that, L had to go back to work, and J took us to City Lights, Lawrence Ferlinghetti's bookstore, still a mainstay of radical San Francisco. There were some interesting titles there, but this time we weren't buying ... Everyone humoured me and went into Britex Fabrics, an entire building that is one of the West Coast's meccas for anyone who sews. There is a floor of silks and woollens, another of cotton, linen and more, an entire floor devoted to buttons and trimmings of all kinds, and the fourth floor (which we didn't reach) is remnants and novelty fabrics. I was overwhelmed - I don't know how you can go into a shop like that with the intent to buy without a sewing plan. There is so much choice ... A picked out a couple of silks that he would like me to make into shorts for him; I said I would aim at making him a cotton shirt by S's bar mitzvah (giving me two years to improve my sewing), and see how we went from there. 

At 3:30 we went back to our Airbnb, finished packing except for what we still needed to use before packing up, and went to Dr Comics & Mr Games, the local comics shop, so that S could get one last fix before going home. At 7:00 Jeremy came to fetch us for supper. During supper, L asked what the highlights of the year had been. It was a surprisingly difficult question to answer, but in no particular order, my top five were meeting Patricia Crone, learning to sew, visiting Savannah, cultivated flowers (the Hoyt Arboretum, the bonsais at the National Arboretum, Portland Rose Garden and the cherry blossoms in Washington), and the Tenement Museum in New York. The list could continue, but I need more time to reflect. I'll revisit the question in a month's time, everything is too close now. 

In less than eleven hours a taxi will come to take us to the airport ... next post will be from Israel.

Writing a letter while waiting for the shippers to arrive

Today is our penultimate day in Takoma Park. The house is almost empty - everything we are shipping is in boxes, waiting to be containerized by the shippers, the unsuccessful yard sale items were picked up half an hour ago by Purple Heart (the Salvation Army could schedule pick-ups only from the 15th), and almost all our clothes etc. for the West Coast are already in suitcases, with the final packing to be done after the shippers come in a couple of hours. Tomorrow the house will be professionally cleaned, and we will set off for the last leg of our American adventure. 

What have we been up to in the last two weeks? First of all, we celebrated A's fourteenth birthday. He and I awokened at 7 a.m., when SR and LR called him on Skype from Israel to wish him happy birthday. After waiting an hour or so for S to wake up (I used the time to make brown sugar cupcakes for our breakfast), I gave A the present I had made him: hand warmers for next winter. S gave A a birthday card. Much to A's disgust, ADC was away in Kansas at a conference. This often happens; very unfortunately for A, he was born at the height of conference season, and one of his parents is almost always away on his actual birthday. This was the the reason for the four-day birthday celebrations, and why he only got his real present on the solstice.  

Next stop in the birthday celebrations was spending the day at the National Zoo. Both boys were very excited to go, but at the end, as we were walking back to the Metro, in a burst of local patriotism, both declared that the Biblical Zoo in Jerusalem was better. Actually, they may be right - ADC says that the Biblical Zoo is in fact considered one of the best zoos in the world, and it certainly seemed to be bigger than the National Zoo. We began with the cheetahs, who are much smaller than one would think in real life. There was a volunteer docent there, who talked to us about the cheetahs for a bit. S asked her if there was a Noah's Ark at the zoo like there is at the Biblical Zoo; she was rather confused until I explained that Noah's Ark is the name of the visitor centre there! She laughed and told him that there were several visitor centres.  

It was very hot and humid in the Zoo, and I felt sorry for all the animals that had adapted to cooler climes. It turned out that many of them had strategies for copying with the weather: for example, the pandas. The pandas are undoubtedly the Zoo's strongest point, and the boys were very disappointed not to see them in the outside enclosures. I suggested that we might see them in the indoor viewing section, and indeed, each (air-conditioned) room there held a larger or smaller panda lying on the floor, clearly seeking relief from the heat. There was a lot of educational/informational material on the corridor wall that ran parallel to the pandas' rooms, and eventually we reached the behavioural observation station: two people in white coats behind a glass wall, looking at a wall full of screens showing the pandas from various angles. S asked why they were watching the pandas so closely, since they weren't doing anything, and had difficulty accepting my explanation that they were watching closely so as not to miss it if they did do something! We continued after the pandas to the bird house, which was a little underwhelming. I guess that seeing birds at Kruger Park spoils you for life. Or else the various birds - mostly South and North American - were just not that interesting, compared to birdwatching in nature anywhere. The latter was definitely A's opinion.  

The Zoo has a main drag, and after the bird house we went back to it, and basically walked along to to great cats. On the way we stopped to look at the American bison. The Zoo has a female, and she is immense. The mind boggles at the idea of the male being almost double in size! She was sitting in the shade looking shaggy and miserable, and I was glad to see that the elephant - next on our path - were Asian, i.e. used to humid climates. Only one of them was outside when we were at the enclosure and she was doing all the things that elephants are supposed to do: eating hay, brushing herself down with hay, squirting water on herself. The other elephants could be seen from inside the former Elephant House, now the Elephant Community Center. No wonder A loves elephants, they always look like they are smiling! He bought another elephant for his collection at the Zoo store: a turquoise soapstone one made in Kenya. 

We continued past the seals and sea lions, the otters and the grey wolves to the great cat display. Like the grey wolves, the Sumatran tiger was pacing - but he spent some of the time swimming back and forth in the moat that surrounded the enclosure. I think everyone who saw that envied the tiger in that moment, as it gradually became hotter and more oppressive. The lions and lionesses (in sex-segregated enclosures) were gnawing on bones at that time. One of the lions had an extremely impressive mane, and sat facing the lionesses and growling. I wonder what he was thinking. By that time we were starting to get a bit tired, so we went quickly to see the orangoutangs and gorillas. I always find great apes in zoos very sad, and this was no exception. At least they seem to be kept stimulated with daily visits to the Think Tank where they can play computer games, among other things. 

Rain had been forecast for most of the day, so we took raincoats to the zoo as a successful prophylactic measure. It began raining just before we reached the Takoma metro station on the way back, and there was a break while were walking homewards. No sooner had I closed the front door behind us and the heavens opened. It rained very very hard for nearly two hours, stopping just in time for us to eat the first birthday meal, pizza at Roscoe's, followed by gelato at Dolci. At Roscoe's we sat viewing the street, and saw the cook go out to pick herbs from the boxes outside. A and S found this very exciting. 

The weekend of A's birthday was overshadowed by a major event: the car battery died when I set out for the supermarket on Friday morning. I think it must have died immediately, but as our road is a slope, I was able to coast downhill until a red light. When I then tried to turn right, the car definitely died and I was stuck. After a while a police car came by, and they were able to push me to a side street so I no longer blocked the road, but they couldn't jump start the car "because of the electronics in their own one." In additional to my general freaking out at what had happened, I was really flabbergasted by that - if the police can't jump start you, who will?! Anyway, after calming down a bit, and a few unsuccessful phone calls to friends and acquaintances (everyone was at work), I realised that I could hear a lawn mower. I walked towards the sound and very luckily, the gardener was kind enough to jump start me and I managed to make my way home. I then sent the boys out to buy milk and eggs - we had just enough fruit and vegetables to keep us through to Sunday, when we could go to the farmer's market. All this happened while ADC, who is in charge of the car, was away, with his own problems - both his flight to Kansas and the flight back were delayed due to Tropical Storm/Tropical Depression Bill (a strangely innocuous name for such a disruptive piece of weather). I was too flustered at the time to understand when he told me that I just needed someone to come and change the car battery. I only worked this out at around midnight, at which point I e-mailed three companies. Only one responded overnight, I called them in the morning and at 10:30 on Saturday I had a functioning car again. It turned out that not only was the battery 3 years old and thus due to be replaced, but we had been doing everything possible to drain it passively: short infrequent trips, leaving outside in the cold and the heat ... All's well that ends well, and it didn't cost too much (at 4 p.m. on Saturday I got a quote from another of the companies that was $50 more). 

On returning from the supermarket, I embarked on more baking: ADC was going to arrive home much later than planned, so I baked A's birthday cake. I have never baked so much in my life: cupcakes on Thursday, corn bread on Friday night (instead of challah, as I am not up to coping with yeast), and now a chocolate cake. ADC insisted on icing it when he returned home, and A was very pleased. His second birthday meal was aglio-olio pasta with chopped zucchini flowers (we will not be here for the fruit) and birthday cake. He then received his main birthday present: a fancy hiking backpack, with integral water bag and air-flow back.

On Sunday, A had two birthday meals!! Breakfast was bacon and eggs, to general delight (except mine). As a vegetarian, I cannot understand my children's obsession with bacon. I personally gag at the smell of frying bacon (well, I dislike the smell of all frying meat, chicken and mince as well. I am fine with grilled/barbecued (in both senses) meat, though). Anyway, breakfast with bacon is a highlight of staying at hotels and B&Bs for them, and there was bacon in the freezer for some reason, that needed to be used. The fourth and final birthday meal was supper at DCNoodles, one of the first places we had eaten in Washington (before going to hear Ian Anderson at the Lincoln Theater back in October). A had asked for a Thai meal, and it was excellent. He had the same thing as he had the previous time, pad see eew with broccoli, while ADC had pad thai, S had drunken noodles (delicious but a bit too spicy, he said) and I had an excellent noodle soup, very similar to the bastard toom yum that we would make at home. After all that spicy food, we looked for an ice cream place and found Menchie's, one of growing number of self-serve frozen yogurt places. You begin by choosing up to four flavours of frozen yogurt, then there were a selection of of sweet crunchy things (like M&M's) to add, then a selection of fruit pies, and finally fudge/marshmallow/Reese's/Nutella topping. I tried to be as restrained as possible, but S really went to town. The price is by weight and his cup was more expensive than anyone else's. He did eat less of his main course than the rest of us, and he did finish it, so I can't really complain.

When ADC went to the Pink Floyd meet-up, he dropped the rest of us at the metro station and we went to visit the National Archives. The security screening was the most severe I've seen here outside the airport (admittedly, I haven't visited the White House or Congress). We started on the entrance floor, where we saw one of the four extant 1297 copies of Magna Carta. We then went upstairs to the rotunda where the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights are displayed. We stood in line for just over half an hour (possibly the longest queue I've been in here; it felt like visiting the Sistine Chapel, because the rotunda has such a high and decorated ceiling), and spent less than 15 minutes actually inside, since we only wanted to look at the actual documents, not at the informational material alongside it. We finished our visit at the Public Vaults exhibition, which we agreed was the most interesting: each case held examples of the kinds of materials kept in the National Archives, ranging from treaties and laws to letters to the President from the public. Those were particularly moving, with a GI in 1944 asking Eleanor Roosevelt to be his child's godmother, one young boy asking President Nixon for funding as his mother had declared his bedroom a disaster zone, and another informing President Ford that he was half right and half wrong. They reminded me of the letters to Yitzhak Rabin that I used to answer as part of my job at the Prime Minister's Office from January 1992 to November 1995.  

The week after A's birthday was the last week with any sort of routine for a while, I think, since the second week of camp was cancelled. A and S were very disappointed, as they were looking forward to a marine biology camp - but I guess not enough people felt like paying that price for four days of camp. They thoroughly enjoyed Japanese art camp, though, coming home not only with manga booklets they had prepared themselves, but with papier-mâché Noh masks, origami animals, kimono designs and durga(sp?) heads. They also experienced a sushi workshop, and are now prepared to eat some kinds of vegetarian sushi, which is an improvement over refusing to eat sushi at all (they both reject still fish in any form). We spent three nights that week watching movies: two nights watching The Last Waltz on Netflix, while on Thursday, we went on a family outing to the cinema, for only the second time since coming to the US. We saw Inside Out, which deserves its rave reception. I won't go into the plot, so as not to spoil anything, but it was a complex and original story, with really fantastic animation and artwork. I thought that all the sweaters worn by the characters had really been knitted. Surprisingly, the traditional Pixar short before the main feature was terrible, in my opinion, by any standards, but especially considering how excellent Inside Out was. 

My own week was productive: I edited two articles and reviewed another. The article I reviewed was for Journal of Ethnopharmacology, and I am not sure I am really competent to review there. In this case, however, I thought the methodology sound and the information useful, but the English was so bad (the authors were Turkish) that the article was almost unreadable. I sent it back with an "Accept pending major revision / revise and resubmit", but ADC told me I should have rejected it. I'm not sure about that: the topic was certainly suited to the journal and really my only problem was with the language. I don't think the authors should be penalised totally for spending more time on their research than on their language skills. On Friday night M and D came over for supper - part of the campaign to finish everything in the pantry. As a result, we served meatballs, brown rice/wild rice/barley and succotash, with challah to start and brownies and biscotti to finish. We finished a bottle of wine (opened that evening) and a bottle of port (opened several weeks ago). They also came over for fireworks, and cleaned out everything that we couldn't donate to a food bank. 

The weekend after that was slightly schizophrenic. For the first time in a while, the rain began in the early hours of the morning on Saturday, rather than in the afternoon, and continued almost without a break until late at night. As a result, we switched around our plans, and spent the day at home. We did a bit more packing (mainly ADCs clothes) and had quality family time: playing games together (and choosing which ones to ship and which ones to take to the West Coast), and watching To Have and Have Not. As I remembered, the plot suffers from comparison with Casablanca, but Lauren Bacall holds her own when compared to Ingrid Bergman. Both are incredibly lovely, but with a very different sort of beauty. It is hard to believe that Bacall was only 19 when she made that movie.

On Sunday, we got up early and went to the farmers' market for the last time. Of course, it was the best it has been for a long time - everything is starting now (hence why we ate pasta with zucchini flowers again). We then continued to Mt Vernon, where S had been on a school trip, but which the rest of us had not seen. It was a very different experience from Monticello, which we visited off-season on a foggy day, so that we only got to see the house. At Mt Vernon we saw the two-part movie overview (part 1: advertorial for the site; part 2: hagiography for Washington), took the timed-entry tour of the house, and spent most of our time exploring the garden. The differences between Jefferson and Washington are expressed amazingly well in the differences between the estates. Washington was a farmer and a soldier, while Jefferson was an intellectual as well as a politician. Monticello is much more interesting as a house than Mt Vernon. Admittedly, the interpretation at Monticello was much better - we had a proper guided tour, rather than being herded in line with people repeating the same spiel in every room. Even so, there was something much more ordinary about Mt Vernon. Washington described it as "pleasant," and that is what it is - pleasant and unexciting. I also found the Jefferson family cemetery more moving than Washington's tomb. On the other hand, the gardens and grounds - which we could not properly experience at Monticello, due to the fog and the winter - at Mt Vernon are wonderful. The upper gardens, with their combination of flowers, vegetables and parterres, were what I had expected the National Arboretum to be like. The pioneer farm, where eighteenth-century American farming is reenacted, had a lot of potential, but when we asked the interpreters questions, they had difficulty getting away from their set speeches, which was disappointing. We had just missed, by a couple of weeks, the hand-harvesting and threshing of the wheat grown there in a system devised by Washington himself. We did see the harvested grain in what had been stables and it was fascinating to touch the kernels, still soft (one always thinks of the dry wheat, forgetting that it would begin as soft as sweetcorn kernels). 

We then continued to Huntley Meadows Park. Compared to our visit almost exactly two months earlier, we saw far fewer birds. We did, however, see an osprey with fish in its claws, being beaten about by a much-smaller redwinged blackbird, clearly evicting a predator. We also saw a rather huge turtle, possibly an alligator turtle, in addition to the common red-eared sliders. We ended the weekend with our last Southern barbecue, at a local branch of Famous Dave's, where we had eaten in Chattanooga. This branch did not have the grilled pineapple I remembered fondly, but both the chips and the broccoli were excellent, from my point of view, and the others all enjoyed the ribs very much.

Our final full week went by very fast. Not as much time was taken up with packing as I thought - but we did sort out a lot of stuff. The Lupus Foundation  took away four big bags of old clothes and shoes - amazing, considering how much we got rid of just over a year ago, when we left Israel. The boys and I had haircuts on Wednesday. S and I are quite happy, A not so much. He has a very clear idea of what he wants, but isn't able to communicate it quite so clearly to hairdressers, it seems ... The rest of us think he looks good, though. I spent a lot of time sewing - I completed a second pair of shorts that I began last week, and made a pair of pants from start to finish - with perfect seam matching at the crotch, if I say so myself. It was an interesting experience to sew with linen rather than cotton. I'm planning to wear these pants on the flight to Seattle, and I hope I don't discover that I should have lined them. I'll see what another round of laundering does, though. 

We saw people and said good-bye to them three evenings this week: on Monday we had dessert with our new next-door neighbours. S continued to win the heart of their five-year old daughter by reading aloud to her for over an hour. On Wednesday, we went to our old next-door neighbours, to their condo in Bethesda, for supper. I continued the mission of finishing what's in the pantry by baking a cake. I used a recipe I found on the internet "closely adapted from Nigella Lawson", that used canola oil, brown sugar and melted dark chocolate, as I didn't have butter, granulated sugar or cocoa left. On Friday, we went to SG and HG for the last time. It was lovely, as always. I'm glad we got to know them. 

The Fourth of July celebrations took place over two days: the parade was on Saturday, the real date, and was very amusing. We were much better positioned than we had been for the St Patrick's Day parade. The fireworks, postponed to Sunday due to rain, were well worth the wait: nearly 20 minutes of some of the best fireworks I've ever seen. I don't know the names of all of them, but my favourites are the ones that explode in different colours, float down a bit, and then explode again in golden showers. I kept on thinking of the lines from Summer by Alice Low: "We like the things that summer brings. It brings fireworks, late at night, red and yellow, blue and white." It took me a long time to understand that the book was referring to the Fourth of July; as a little girl in South Africa, I didn't realise that the book was American.

We spent the first part of the day packing the suitcases we are taking to the West Coast, to be sure that we had enough space and didn't need to ship even more clothes. Thankfully, it looks like we are OK. In the afternoon, we watched Harvey before ADC erased our user profile, as he sold the computer and it was collected tonight. He also sold his bike back to the shop, and tomorrow he is sleight car back to the dealers. So far, he is the only one to have any luck - we set out the small number of items (mainly kitchen appliances of which we have doubles with the right voltage back home in Israel) on the front lawn and tried to attract passers-by from 4 p.m. until after the fireworks, i.e. around 10, with absolutely no success. Yesterday Ariel took all the remaining closed packages to the Takoma Park Food Pantry on his way to the car dealers. 

Getting back to Harvey: I hadn't seen the movie before, but was familiar with the concept of a six-foot tall invisible white rabbit, I'm not sure how. I thought the movie was very sweet, and I particularly enjoyed the relationship between Mrs Simmons and Judge Gaffney. I also though that Elwood P. Dowd's line "Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it" was absolutely brilliant. In order to finish our subscription to Netflix DVDs, Ariel and I watched another two films over the past few nights. Last night we watched The Last Waveand the previous two nights we watched Boyhood. It would be hard to find two more different films, I think. The Last Wave, directed by Peter Wier (whose surname is missing a D, I always feel), is a very creepy tale of how a white Australian lawyer become drawn into the Dreamtime when he agrees to help a group of Aborigines accused of murdering another in a drunken brawl - which turns out to be a ritual killing due to the latter committing sacrilege. Boyhood, on the other hand, is a slice-of-life filmed over twelve years with the same actors, which despite having ups and downs (particularly the mother's relationships), ends on a positive note. The conceit of the actors naturally aging, rather than being made up or using different actors for different ages, was very well executed, and everything was entirely believable.

Yesterday we went to our last Smithsonian museum: the Museum of American History. It was a good choice for an afternoon's entertainment, but I think we were right to keep it low on our list of museums to go to. We went to three exhibitions, averaging an hour per exhibition: We started in the Food hall, where we saw Julia Child's kitchen, in which her TV shows were filmed. ADC was very envious of all her copper pots. The description of how American food changed from 1950 to 2000 was very interesting, especially as it seems to me that many of the movements that took place in the US in the 1970s are now occurring in Israel. We continued to an exhibition on a house in Ipswich, MA, which was continuously occupied from its construction in the 1760s until 1963, which told the stories of four families that lived there - a Revolutionary merchant, an abolitionist and reformist family, an Irish washerwoman and her factory-worker daughter, and a grandmother and grandson during WWII. That last kitchen put the 1950s kitchens into a different perspective! We then moved to another wing of the museum, to exhibitions on transport. We started with maritime transport and the Atlantic world, and ended with the containerisation revolution of shipping in the 1960s and 70s, which moved the centre of West Coast shipping from San Francisco to Oakland.

That brings me full circle to the beginning of the letter ... Next letter will be from San Juan Island or Seattle.

End of the year

Last  time I wrote, we were about to embark on a very busy weekend. On May 30, we spent the day at AwesomeCom, which really was awesome. We went to a Q&A session with John Rhys-Davies and Sean Astin, which was hilarious; a panel on the "strong woman character" trope in genre and its problems, which began slowly, but quickly developed into an interesting discussion once audience participation began; tried new games; and wandered around the immense exhibit area, looking at t-shirts, original comics, merchandise and more. The most fun was looking at all the cosplayers, some of whom had amazingly detailed costumes, and some of whom were just having fun. A and S fell into the latter category: A bought a Deadpool mask a few weeks ago, and wore red and black, generally, while S recycled his Halloween costume of Rorschach (whom he has no real idea about, just thought the mask looked cool on Amazon - I have no real idea who Rorschach is either). The food situation was not great, and in retrospect it might even have been quicker to go outside the convention centre for lunch, but we made an executive decision to regard food as fuel that day, as we barely had time for a very early supper before heading to Strathmore to hear Fauré's Requiem. I had never heard it before, and I enjoyed it very much, especially as the program kindly provided full words with translation, so we could follow along. Unsurprisingly, a lot of the wording looked like slightly skewed versions of Jewish prayers. 

Next day, we spent the afternoon at the Folger, watching Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. I had such fun! I saw the film with Gary Oldman and Tim Roth when it came out in 1990, in one of the now-gone cinemas in north Tel Aviv, and I remember laughing out loud at some point, and being the only person in the theatre to do so. That certainly didn't happen this time, everyone was laughing at all the jokes, including A and S (when S saw The Lion King on the last day of school, he came home convinced that Timon and Pumba were Rosencrantz and Guildenstern - or vice versa). I'm not sure that they have seen enough live theatre to undesrtand all the conventions that were being played with, but they have seen Hamlet, so they had an idea of what was going on. In this performance, the Player was particularly good, much more of a presence than I remember Richard Dreyfuss being in the film. Guildenstern (Adam Wesley Brown) and Rosencrantz (played by an understudy, Luis Alberto Gonzalez) were both excellent, too. When I saw the movie, I don't think I had much of an idea who the main actors were, and I was surprised to meet them years later as Sirius Black and the Abomination. The play owes almost as much to Waiting for Godot as it does to Hamlet, and ADC asked me why I enjoyed R&G so much, yet disliked Waiting for Godot. Well, to begin with I think that WfG would have been improved - the one time I saw it live - if I had not just come off a five-hour flight to London. I fell asleep there, but I am told that I did not miss much, as nothing happens in the first half, and that is recapitulated in the second half. I don't think that that is true of R&G - yes, they spend a lot of time waiting, but things do happen. Also, since I saw this first as a film, I didn't experience it as occurring on a single stage set, but in a variety of settings, with the journey actually taking place on horseback etc. Finally, I am sure that my own enjoyment of verbal dexterity deriving from a great classic has a lot to do with it; I may simply prefer the register in which Stoppard works to Becket's.

The following week was "spirit week" at the elementary school, and S had to wear interesting clothes all week, culminating in a superhero outfit on Friday - he was given a Batman suit by a friend. Pity he didn't get it in time for AwesomeCon, but he is now sorted for Purim next year. A was invited to the honors evening at school. About 800 names (some two thirds of the student body) were called up to receive some kind of honor, with some children being called up more than once. A was in the next to last group, children who had received straight As all year (the last group was 27 children who had received straight As for eleven quarters, their entire time at TPMS). I am glad that ADC went without me, as I think I would have very much resented not being able to knit had I gone. This paragraph kind of sums up the entire year's experience for the boys: S had a great time, and A was rather bored. 

Last weekend, its first half  - Friday evening through Saturday afternoon - was spent visiting the Ms and their kids in Baltimore. We were very pleased to be invited for the weekend, actually just as ADC had been about to call to ask when we could see them, as this will be our last chance to see them before we come home. As we left Takoma Park during Friday evening rush hour, Google Maps took us on a different route from our previous visit, and after a whole year in which I had only seen the part of the Baltimore that was the route between Penn Station and Johns Hopkins' Homewood Campus, this weekend I saw two areas that were quite different. To begin with, we ended up going through a rather depressed area of Baltimore before we reached the Ms' house, on W 34th St. We discussed with the boys how you identified a poverty-stricken area: peeling paint, boarded up windows, no greenery, no chain stores but rather corner shops prominently advertising liquor. A added children playing outside on the pavement and adults sitting on the steps leading up to the row houses, and S added that those adults were smoking. As we moved north, the neighbourhood improved - this seems to be a near constant, north is better than south (if your city has an up and a down, like Haifa does, with Mt Carmel, then up is better). I wonder if there is any explanation for that. 

After supper, we went to get ice cream at the Charmery, just around the corner on W 36th St., and saw another side of the city. This was the hipster Baltimore, which KM and AM had said was like Zichron, with boutiques selling various kinds of handmade food and clothes. They were quite right, and we were sorry to see that we had missed happy hour at a chocolatier. We were not too late for an oyster stall, and to our surprise, S agreed to try one (we assume because IM, rather than one of us, told him that it tasted good). He wasn't impressed, but at least he didn't reject the suggestion out of hand. We had planned to go to the Aquarium in the morning, but once again we didn't make it. IM and AW are very big on board games, and had specifically requested that we bring Seven Wonders with us. We played after coming back from the ice cream, and ended up going to bed very late. Once we got up in the morning, AM made waffles, after which the boys (including the fathers) began playing Clue, while AM and I took sixteen-month-old CR to the playground. When we got back, because CR was getting hungry, the game was still going on, and by the time it finished, we decided to just go back home and do homework and watch You Can't Take It With You, which is exactly what we did.

First thing Sunday morning, ADC mowed the lawn. He did a much better job than A does, a combination of greater weight and power brought to bear when pushing (although it is an electric lawnmower) and greater motivation (I think no one could be less motivated than A: he liked the idea of mowing the lawn - similarly to the idea of shoveling snow - much more than he did the reality). This set the stage for a horticulturally-focused day. Our previous visit to the National Arboretum was the day after a snowstorm, and we decided already then to returm in the spring. As we are now almost at the summer solstice, and running out of time left to visit, we decided to go yesterday, after a rainy week that ended in sunshine and humidity. Sadly, once again many flowers were not yet blooming - although many other were already past their peak. It seemed as if what would have been the best areas to look at are now out of bounds due to the nesting bald eagles, which is a great pity, to my mind. However, we did see the late-blooming satsuki azaleas, and found a Japanese-style pond, with godfish, water-lilies in bloom, and most excitingly, several frogs, one of them almost on a lily-pad, in best Princess and the Frog style. The herb garden was at one of its peaks, too, and I really enjoyed that: there was a whole row of mints in pots, and you could rub the leaves and smell the differences as you walked along. It was fun seeing all the familar names and shapes in the industrial and colonial sections, as well as noting which plants appeared again and again: seasonings and bases for alcoholic drinks :)

The last week of school was fairly uneventful, with a lot of time spent on final exams. The last quarter report card will arrive in the mail, apparently. Oh, and S had his class trip to Baltimore on Monday. His main comment, when he got home, was that he didn't understand why, after having seen a film about the Star-Spangled Banner at Fort McHenry, they saw another such film at the Science Museum instead of doing something related to science there. 

Friday was the last day of elementary and middle school in Maryland. Since A has finished 8th grade and S has finished 5th grade, Friday was devoted to their promotion ceremonies - a new usage to me, BTW. I had not previously run across "promotion" in this sense. I would have just said "finished primary school" and/or "finished junior high". Anyway, we split up, with ADC attending A's ceremony (12:30-14:00) and me attending Sl's (11:30-12:30, clap-out at 15:15). It sounds as if both ceremonies were very similar: the children marched in, speeches by the principal and student representatives, a musical number, prizes, names of each student read by homeroom teacher. A's ceremony, from his report, was of course more elaborate, with a PowerPoint with pictures of all the children and a short film with all the teachers wishing them luck. The TPMS principal apparently spent her day going to various promotion ceremonies, elementary schools in the morning and the middle school in the afternoon. S received his certificate in his classroom. While everyone was milling around before the children had a picnic lunch (parents were sent home and returned to clap the mortarboard-wearing children out of school at the end of the day), I took pictures of S and his teacher and best friends on my cell phone. I hope they are viewable. ADC said the same for his pictures of A's ceremony, taken on a real camera and by a far better photographer.

On another note entirely, I spent quite a lot of time this past week on crafts: I finally finished my hiking shorts, which I decided to lengthen by adding a cuff (just in time to go rafting on Saturday), and I swatched my next cardigan. It seemed oddly appropriate to be knitting while watching Terry Gilliam's Brazil on Thursday night. Very excitingly, when I logged into Ravelry on Friday, I saw I had a message from the designer of the baby blanket I knitted for my latest neice, asking permission to feature my project on the pattern's main page. Admittedly, I knitted the blanket in December, but only added the pictures (again, ADC must be credited) a few days ago. What a compliment! 

The weekend has been boiling hot, and spending Saturday on the Shenandoah River was a very good idea. We reached the rafting company at Front Royal around 10:30, and were on the river just after 11:00. We floated along until 15:30 - the Shenandoah was much wider and slower than the Jordan was when we went rafting there, and we got stuck at every "riffle" - places where rocks are high enough to cause very mildly choppy water, but it was still great fun. ADC and A did most of the rowing, and every so often we stopped at an island and had a dip in the lovely cool water. I am still trying to get the algae out of my shorts - admittedly I made them for this kind of activity, but still, I'd like them to look newish after only one wearing. You can float so well when wearing a life jacket! The boys insisted on racing the other people who had been in the shuttle to the rivers with us - two men who were camping with their six-year-old sons. Unsurprisingly, we reached our end point - 7 miles from the start - before them. On the way back, we decided to take a scenic detour along the Skyline Drive, in the Shenandoah Valley National Park. We had been there before, in early October, and this was our last chance to be there again. Unfortunately, I think we were too tired to appreciate it properly - and also the view, when we stopped at overlooks, was quite hazy. After such an exhausting day, we had a much quieter time yesterday. Ariel finally went to buy bagels for Sunday breakfast. He said that he was one of the few male customers not wearing a kippa, and that all the staff were clearly Orthodox Jews - which to my mind seemed a good indication of quality control, and indeed the bagels were delicious. I wonder why American bagels are so much softer than the ones Granny and Grandpa used to make - a difference between Polish and Lithuanian traditions, perhaps? We then slowly wended our way to the weekly farmers' market and listened to a few acts at the Takoma Park Jazz Festival. It was incredibly hot and humid - Tel Aviv seemed cool and dry in comparison - so we didn't stay as long as we might have. We ended the day by watching Flash Gordon, which A had been very eager to watch due to the soundtrack being by Queen. I saw sometime in my childhood, but remembered very little of it. It was quite hilariously campy and bad, with enough woodenness to furnish a carpenter in every scene with Flash and Dale Arden, on the one hand, and Brian Blessed chewing all scenery he came within point blank range of: "Hand me the remote control!!" sounded just like "Release the Kraken!!" 

Today was the first day of the summer holidays. The boys and I have begun packing - in the sense that they went through all their school stuff, and there is now a pile of paper almost 23 cm high waiting to be recycled - and I began inventorying which of the things we bought for the house we plan to send in a lift and which we plan to leave behind as it's not worth sending them, when you factor in the cost of shipping and customs. Tomorrow a rep of one of the shipping companies I contacted is coming to do an in-home survey; another company estimated (based on my very preliminary listing) that we had about 5 cubic metres to ship. I think the cost of shipping will come to almost equal the value of the things that we are shipping, and that's before customs is calculated. The state really wants you to buy things in Israel, rather than importing them personally!

Next letter will probably be after the Fourth of July, for which we apparently will have front row seats for the fireworks, as they are let off at the middle school sports fields across the road.