Goats and Austrian milk maids, oh my!

Tags

Ambassador, Austria, Bucket list, Czech Republic, design, design hotel, Diplo-dog, Diplomatic, food, goat, moving, skiing, spa, travel

I think we should get a goat!!

My husband actually uttered these words to me on our seven hour drive back to Prague today. AND, he was serious.

We had just spent several days in Soelden, Austria. Steve needed some well deserved time off and wanted to go skiing again – his passion. I was dreading the drive and the skiing — especially since my neck has been so out of whack the last few weeks, and since the weather has been so uncooperative. Steve would have happily stayed in a hovel as long as there was good skiing in striking distance, but since he is a gem of a husband, booked us a room at an upscale hotel called the Bergland Solden. He was hoping to guarantee me a comfortable bed, pleasant surroundings for reading, and a SPA should I choose to partake.

Bergland is part of the international collection of “Design Hotels”, and clearly delivered in every respect. Having spent much of my career as a Commercial Interior Designer, I was impressed by the attention to detail in both the rooms and public spaces, especially the lighting which I am persnickety about. Use of LED colored lighting effects all over the place really stood out as a design feature, and well as the use of warm, natural materials throughout. Perfectly situated in the center of town, the hotel is located only a block away from the shuttle that takes you to either gondola. Ski storage on the main level made the whole “equipment ordeal” very easy to manage.

So did I ski? Yes. I must have a guardian angel because the nerve pain in my neck took a 3 day break. In addition, we not only found great snow up on the glacier above the Giggijoch gondola, but 3 days of non-stop sunshine. Steve was in heaven or close to it.

This mountain was perfect for my desire to cruise down wide open blue trails above the tree line. My plan of studying Czech non-stop in the spa’s “quiet room” while Steve went up the hill himself was quickly abandoned (and without guilt, I might add). After 3 days of ski fatigue, I treated myself to a nice Austrian beer before Steve treated me to a massage and wrap back at the spa to round things out.

What does this have to do with the goat, you may ask? Well, we were driving home, and I was now a captive audience in the car. Much like when my children were younger and I used the drive as “uninterrupted talk time”, Steve loved that he had my undivided attention to entertain me with his corny jokes, and use me as a sounding board for some of his “ideas”. More importantly, this was his diplomatic tactic to distract me from the fact that he was well over the speed limit which never sits well with me.

So while I was “back-seat driving” through the Austrian Alps and spotted a field of grazing goats, my husband suggested that we should procure one. Why you ask?? Because ever since moving to Europe, I have developed a taste and love of goat milk products — goat yogurt being my favorite. In Prague you can buy goat yogurt at the various farmers markets throughout the city, but in the winter months there is a drought. “If we had our own goat, then you could have your yogurt all year long”, he exclaimed – very excited I might add as if he had just found the solution to end world hunger. “Do you think Eva (our housekeeper) knows how to milk a goat?”, he continued, “We should text her and ask”. “Don’t you dare”, I said. “Just because she can make strudel, does not make her a “milk-maid”. “Well you can do it then”, he said. “I kind of like the image of you out in the garden donned in one of those Austrian farm-girl outfits doing it yourself”. He has seen too many “Got milk?” Ads….

What garden was he referring to? The one right outside the Ambassador’s residence where we are set to move to our home on the same property next month. Yes, we will soon be sharing a sprawling lawn and garden with the U.S. Ambassador to the Czech Republic. You can read more about the significance of this magnificent, historic home on the Embassy website and come to your own conclusion as to whether a goat in residence is a good idea or not.

Meanwhile, Steve was on a roll, and the conversation became so ridiculous that I just felt I needed to share part of it:

ME: That is very thoughtful of you, and assuming the Ambassador doesn’t mind a creature grazing on his lovely lawn, how do you think the residence manager (who bears a remarkable resemblance to the character Carson on the show “Downton Abbey”) will react?

STEVE: I am sure he would be fine with it if we point out the benefits of having fresh goat’s milk on hand. He might even know where to buy a goat, as he does purchase food and other goods for the household.

ME: I realize a goat is technically “meat”, but we are talking a living animal here.

STEVE: He is very resourceful.

ME: OK, so assuming everyone is on board with the idea, how are we going to keep Lexi (Diplo-dog) from hunting it?? We are going to have enough of a problem with the cats that currently live on the property.

STEVE: Right. Well, we would cordon off an area for a little while until they became good friends.

ME: You mean Lexi and the goat?

STEVE: Yes!

ME: And what if that plan goes terribly wrong?

STEVE: Then we would be having fresh goat meat for dinner.

ME: Gross. What would we feed the goat?

STEVE: They are omnivorous. They eat anything. Carrots. We could toss them some carrots.

ME: I wonder if they like goat yogurt?

Owning a goat is not on my bucket list, but my husband is a truly a wonderful man. Just as he pleased me with reservations at a nice hotel, he would make a genuine inquiry into goat procurement if he thought it would make me happy. I thanked him and reminded him that the farmer’s market reopens for the season next Saturday. On second thought, it might be nice to walk out my front door one day and come across an adorable site such as this…

Kitzbuehel – to ski or not to ski?

Tags

Bucket list, cafe, day-tripping, food, friends, plan B, skiing, travel

Kitzbuehel won the award for the best ski area in Austria for 2013, so naturally my ski-enthused husband was delighted when he discovered that it was only a 4-1/2 hour drive to there from Prague. With the holidays behind us and the Ambassador back at the Embassy, there was no reason not to take a road trip and check “Skiing in the Alps” of his bucket list. Except….

Step 1 – Don’t get arrested on the way

Off we headed with Teji, the Regional Security Officer at Embassy Prague, who manages the security at our mission, and who also happens to be our friend. She too was looking forward to some relaxation which did not include having her car searched for drug smuggling and a possible stolen vehicle in Germany. This is the result of her asking Steve to relieve her from driving a bit. I think he was behind the wheel a whole 5 minutes before we were unceremoniously pulled over. Obviously he looked suspicious to these fine Polizei who were kind enough to let us be photographed with them after they scrutinized our car VIN number, Diplomatic passports and ID cards.

Step 2 – Plan better

There should be tons of snow on the mountain by now, but it is mostly barren as you can see from the above image. While my home in Baltimore has been experiencing cold that has not been seen in 20 years, central Europe is having spring-like weather. When I pointed this out to Steve days before our departure and that the mini dogwood tree near our residence had buds on it, he discredited the idea that there may not be ideal conditions. Talking my husband out of a ski trip (despite the facts) is similar to dragging a screaming toddler out of a candy store. To be fair — we booked this several weeks ago and had non-refundable hotel reservations.

Nevertheless, Steve was a good sport today exploring the town with me instead of riding a chair lift up to the peak. I enjoyed getting a suntan in my t-shirt and later capturing a new funny hat picture to add to my collection after the sun went down.

Step 3 – Have fun no matter what. My husband is such a good sport!

We ended our day at a cute little italian cafe called Centro where we enjoyed some excellent grilled calamari, veggies and brick-oven pizza. Nothing on the menu was in English, so we used our Spanish, French and limited Czech skills to pick from a German/Italian only menu. Fortunately not only did we receive what we thought we ordered, but also enjoyed the “Yule-like-log” display on the TV monitor. Even Centro recognized that it is too warm out for a real wood, burning fire.

Back at our hotel, we met up with Teji and her friend Tina (also joining us from the US Embassy in Vienna) and batted around ideas for plan “B” if we should awake to similar conditions tomorrow. After all, what would a road trip be without a road trip, right? Reidel Glass factory tour in Kufstein, The Eagles Nest which stands as a monument to the Hitler era, or a salt mines tour in Berchtesgaden are all good possibilities to mull over breakfast. I would probably enjoy going to the salt mines tour just to get a picture of Steve in a miner’s jumpsuit. Of course he visioning me in one of these traditional alpine dresses was enough to end his day with a smile…..

A Halloween feast in Prague

Tags

beer, Czech, Diplo-dog, feast, food, Halloween, off the beaten path, Prague, restaurants

While everyone back home was celebrating Halloween, I disguised myself as a local Czech in Prague. My game plan was to only speak my limited Czech vocabulary, and to head well away from the tourist area. I suppose my American-made North Face fleece might have given me away, but at least I tried to blend in.

We were already out of the turistický fray a few blocks from our apartment. The side streets were so beautifully, creepy that I expected the headless horseman to appear at any moment.

Heading out on foot, with Diplo-Dog tagging along, Steve and I did a little exploring in an area west of our apartment called Břevnov. The entire walk was an ascent. Not a steep one mind you, but still UP!! By the time we reached the oldest friary in all of Bohemia — The Břevnov Monastery — it was 8 PM and I was starving. Lucky for us there was a restaurant by the name of Klášterní šenk right on the property, and despite the fact that I swore off Czech peasant food after a recent, bad experience; I repeat — I was starving.

Upon entering this converted stable-to-restaurant after our brisk 2 mile, 40 degree stroll, we were greeted by a wood burning fire, tons of locals with their families, a hearty welcome for Lexi in English from a waiter who pegged my as an American as soon as I tried to greet him in Czech, and of course beer from their own brewery on every table!Deciding to be brave, I ordered the one thing that I have heard the most about but have dared to try so far — Traditional Roast Pork Knee. First, however, we warmed ourselves up with beer. I ordered the special Benedikt 11 dark beer brewed right there at the monastery, while Steve ordered the unfiltered wheat beer. This was followed by a fantastic, dense loaf of fresh bread, served with whipped butter and a pate spread.

While Steve was sneaking bread with pate to Lexi under the table, I was slowly getting buzzed across the table. Steve suggested that I have turned in to a tmavé pivo feťák (dark beer junkie), but that is not the case because half-way through our meal, I stole his larger stein of wheat beer.

Finally our entrees arrived and I stared in disbelief at what appeared to be several, meaty pounds of pork on a bone that Lexi was clearly salivating over as much or more than I was. Cheers!

This photo really doesn’t do this meal justice. First of all, it was a tender & moist piece of meat with an array of accompaniments including pickled cabbage, onions, cherries and apple horseradish sauce. Secondly, the photographer, who was also drinking, took a blurry picture. He would argue that I was the only one buzzed at the table, but I distinctly remember him saying the following to me after one look at my pork “knee”..

I swear I saw a pig outside with little cup begging for money holding himself up on a crutch. I have visions of all the poor little pigs of Prague running around on crutches everywhere

Steve’s dinner of skewers of grilled meat (wrapped in bacon) & vegetables was equally delicious, and despite the fact that we were stuffed (even after Lexi became the beneficiary of what remained on our plates), we ordered the dessert of warm, Bohemian flapjacks with blueberries and cream.“Výborný”, I said to the waiter as in “EXCELLENT” — for both the food and great service. There was no ‘trick’ here on this Halloween Eve, just “treats” and I can’t wait to return.

I spy a spy

Tags

Diplo-dog, diplomacy, fall foliage, farmer's market, food, Prague, reality, Saturday, spying, walk

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a lot of things — a dancer, a doctor, a famous actress, an interior designer. I somehow managed to turn one of those desires into a career, but what I really secretly wanted to be was a private detective. Being “Harriet the Spy” was so appealing, and if I had my druthers, I wanted also to be invisible so as to gather as much covert information as I could. Being fascinated with Nancy Drew and Sherlock Holmes added to this fantasy of mine. Oh if only.

Except. There is a lot of spying going on these days, and it is not me who is doing it. In fact, the U.S. is being accused of a nuclear level spying conspiracy according the the BBC News and others. However, there is no doubt in my mind that the U.S. is not the only guilt party here.

As the wife of a senior Diplomat, I have always assumed that someone might be watching or listening to me and my husband at any time, wherever in the world we are posted. I am of the belief that all governments have an espionage program, and you would think this would upset me in the most base of ways, but it really hasn’t. Maybe it is because I am not harboring classified information or national secrets. Maybe it is because I consider going to a farmer’s market on a sunny Saturday in Prague horribly inconsequential and downright boring in light of our world’s troubles. Although, if we all started out our Saturday with some deliciously grilled fresh seafood and home made bread — the world might be a better place.

Or maybe I have just become used to the idea over the years. Therefore, any interest in me personally, in my opinion, would be for sheer amusement or an effort to protect me from any local anti-Americanism (which would actually be most appreciated).

This brings me to the present state of affairs. I am certain I am being spied on in Prague. It dawned on my the other day after being followed home twice — once from near the Embassy by a uniformed police officer, and the second time from the mall by someone in plain clothes, that I am carrying a phone with a Czech SIM card registered to my husband. Which, by the way, must be very confusing to the Czech government because my sultry voice is nothing like that of my husband, nor do my svelte legs walking down the cobblestone streets resemble his hairy ones. I know what you are thinking. I am having paranoid, hormonal delusions. Maybe I am. But if I am correct……

You would think that this invasion of privacy would irk me. Not the case as I have nothing to hide from the Czech nor any other government. What I am annoyed at is that I have a cell phone battery that is being drained in less than 3 hours!!! What this means for me is that my phone is regularly dying before I can access the mobile app to purchase a tram ticket home. VERY inconvenient. Steve thought I was delusional as well and blamed it on the iphone 5c unreliability until I proved my point and put my Verizon SIM card back into my phone today. Eight hours and counting and my phone still has 25% battery. SIGH.

So if you are a member of the Czech intelligence agency and are reading my blog, I apologize for going rouge today. I am going be a little cheeky, help you out just this once and tell you what I did for the record:

• I slept in with my husband. Total luxury. There was “pillow talk”. You might know of our conversation if you are listening in at the apartment. I hope we amused you.
• Long walk to the farmer’s market at Dejvice, my favorite farmer’s market so far in Prague. Diplo-Dog shared a delicious sausage with Steve while I salivated over ones to bring home (less the pheasants). Ate grilled calamari and prawns and wistfully sought out a tmavé pivo (dark beer) at 11 AM to go with. Steve insists I have gone “local” in less than 4 weeks time. 
• Long walk back home. Took a different route. Please note that I will do this often. Was pleasantly surprised to find a fabulous art store where there were goodies in the window that intend to buy so that I can begin to sketch images of your lovely city.
• Circumvented the Castle grounds to take in the beauty of the fall foliage wrapping around the historic walls.
• Spent some time online booking tickets for my visit back home next month. You already might know that if you are tracking my computer. I hope you think I made an excellent seat selection.
• Took another fall foliage walk with Dipo-dog. Not telling you where. I need to have a little fun.
• Visited St. Nicholas church in Old Town and picked up a concert brochure. Plan to attend one soon. Your churches and basilicas are architecturally astounding. Concert line-up includes Vivaldi. My favorite 🙂
• Returned home and devoured a yummy farmer’s marked spread of ham, fresh goat cheese, brown bread, veggies and olives. With dark beer, of course. Which, by the way, also complements poppyseed and plum strudel very well. I am genuinely impressed with your country’s strudel making abilities.

As I suggested, boring in terms of international intelligence. I for one really enjoyed my day, and managed to do so with a functioning phone. Unfortunately, it is not cost effective nor practical to use a U.S. SIM card in a foreign country for an extended period of time.

In my personal opinion, I suspect that one country spying on another is probably not the best way to protect our civil liberties. We really need to work harder at trust, honesty & diplomacy.

Reality check. It might all be in my imagination. Perhaps it is a Diplomatic faux pas for even suggesting such a thing. But, if I am correct and must live with the current state of affairs — I am hoping that someone might recognize that I am not Steve and will stop trying to track me. This American girl just wants to use her phone to get home!

Up the down staircase

Tags

Diplo-dog, discipline, exercise, food, goals, Prague, restaurants

Exercise. I have always been an advocate. Wherever I go, I will always find a way to keep active. It helps me sleep better, keeps my hormonal churlishness in check, and keeps me looking trim and fit. That is — if I do enough exercise to compensate for my diet.

Well here in Prague that is proving to be a bit of a challenge with all of the eating we have been doing. It is not just the representational functions that we are attending with all of the rich food and drink, but our own grand mal nutritional transgressions. I am generally a healthy eater — priding myself on more Mediterranean fare, yet finding myself in a city tempted by delicious bread and pastries on every corner. Much to my chagrin, Steve is in high-carb heaven and stockpiles our kitchen at every opportunity. To add insult to injury, I was met this morning in my kitchen by Eva, the housekeeper, who baked some home made strudel for me. I guess she didn’t want to be outdone by her mother who bake us what can only be described as fried Czech Beignets filled with apple filling and powdered sugar. Holy smokes. I am going to wind up with a “tlustou prdel”, which coincidentally (or not) rhymes with “strudel” — translating to “fat ass” In Czech. Not wanting to be rude, of course, I fired up the Nespresso machine and made myself a macchiato to go with this delicious treat.Mind you, I have yet to be idle here. Diplo-dog and I walk Steve to the Embassy almost every morning and again to meet up with him at the end of the day. Not having a car here means more pounding the cobblestone streets and many, many uphill climbs in between. Not to mention weekend day-tripping on foot. Unfortunately, this is not proving to be enough as my ever-so-tightening jeans would suggest. What I have been missing are the aerobic machines I was doing in Baltimore and the daily long swims in Tampa. Time to improvise in this lovely, medieval city. So, I came down (and up) with a solution….

Run up and down a 400 year old staircase tucked away a block from our apartment.
There are 89 steps. I counted, and having completed 15 exhausted trips which was the goal I set, I am proud to say that I might have atoned for my dietary sins 2670 steps later.

It was difficult, and not just because my thighs were screaming at me. There was a contrast of odors, wafting through the air of this narrow space. There was some sort of sewage smell making its way up one of the grates. That is and of itself was enough to keep me moving, but then there also was a most delicious food odor sneaking out of the door of the “Host” restaurant that is wedged halfway down the staircase. I am not sure what they were cooking, but I think Lososové tournedos plněné kozím sýrem a listovým špenátem, bramborové pyré with a little Domácí jablečný závin s vlašskými ořechya vanilkovou zmrzlinou for dessert (for comparison sake mind you) is in my future!

What the hell. More food. More stairs. More pain, but hopefully with only the gain of another great meal and more reasons to keep moving through this beautiful city.

Contrasts in gastronomy

Tags

cafe, Diplo-dog, Diplomatic, food, Prague, restaurants, sight seeing, traditional cuisine

I should never start off my day without food. I get grumpy. I am not sure if it is actually a low blood sugar disorder, or lately just my need to replace the calories spent climbing up and down the hill to the Prague Castle which is near where we are temporarily residing.

Yesterday morning after a very long walk with Lexi, we ventured to a very charming, little cafe/bakery/wine bar called Cukrkávalimonáda (Pronounced something like cookra-kaava-leemonaada). We didn’t arrive till noon, so I needed to eat to say the least. This is not a very big place, you can walk in and seat yourself, and like many dining establishments in Prague — dogs are allowed inside! While close to the Charles Bridge — it is a bit tucked away from the tourist hubbub. It also has a very warm, rustic-chic feeling that I designer like myself can appreciate, and a very nice fresh juice bar.

Healthy, fresh fruit juice aside, they are known for having just about the best hot chocolate in Prague. Obviously I had to partake. I can only describe this beverage as something akin to dark chocolate pudding that has yet to solidify. My taste buds were in heaven, my blood sugar was spiking, and my hips were threatening to expand. This did NOT, however, agree with me on an empty stomach, and the wait for the food was not especially fast. When it did arrive, I was exceptionally pleased with both the yummy taste & presentation.

Orgasm in a cup

Eggs over with smoked salmon & fresh arugula

Then it was a march back up the hill and endless, steep steps to deliver Diplo-dog back home so that Steve and I could do a little unencumbered sight-seeing. We decided to take the tram to Old Town to check out the street scene and see some of the monuments (each worthy of their own blog post). We walked for several hours, and by 5PM Steve said the look in my eyes was frightening. Yes, I needed to eat. Again. He quickly suggested that we grab a bite on our walk back.

They say you should never go to the grocery store hungry. I say you should never agree to eat Czech peasant food when starving, especially choosing one at random in one of the most touristy sections of town. I looked at the menu. Not my cup of tea.

Steve glanced through the entrance and spotted pretzels (his favorite) on all of the rustic, outdoor tables. “We are going in”, he said diplomatically. “You will love it!” They did boast having the “BEST BEER”, so I figured “why not??”

The beer was remarkably good, and under around $2 US. I can’t say the same for my small bottle of water that was almost $5! For economy sake — it is clear why I will need to join the Czech custom of drinking beer to hydrate.

I cannot say the same about the food, and maybe it is just that I am too much of a foodie as well as having a general desire to nourishingly feed the temple that is my body. Steve’s expression does not accurately express the feeling he had about his meal. I think he rather enjoyed the lamb and bread dumplings soaked in greasy gravy, but was reacting to my wincing that was going on at the other side of the table.

I ordered duck with roasted cabbage & apples. The duck was identifiable and I ate it because I was famished. To be fair — it was tender. Steve suggested that I use my fingers which was not happening after discovering that the restaurant restroom not only didn’t have toilet paper, but soap!! The older woman in the kitchen just scowled at me when I pointed this out. I repeat – I am a bit of health nut and neglected to bring my Purell with me. Won’t happen again. This was gastronomic distress for me which is fitting since apparently this restaurant has a bit of history related to torture & uncleanliness…..

The building today houses the Which Lesser Plzeň pub (Lesser pub) stands on the site of a former hangman’s house from 1664. This form of capital punishment was Established in the Middle Ages. For the Entire period, Executioners were deemed unclean and were not Entitled to all civil rights

I have no doubt that I will find many restaurants in this wonderful city that please both my sense of sensible eating, and Steve’s desire to find the best traditional restaurant. More exploring to come.

An alien in a beautiful land

Tags

Diplo-dog, food, moving, Prague, reality, restaurants, the Embassy

We have arrived. In Prague.

In a land of immigrants, one was not an alien but simply the latest arrival. – Rudolf Arnheim

We actually we arrived in Prague 4 days ago, but my body & soul can only process it as one extremely long day or perhaps I should say “month”. Since my last post of 4 weeks ago, we packed out our home in Tampa which included a shipment of furniture back to Baltimore, an airfreight shipment to Prague and a household effects (sea shipment) to Prague, drove up the East Coast with Diplo-Dog, sent 2 additional shipments to Prague from Baltimore, said our goodbyes to most of our family and friends and then collapsed on our plane this past Sunday afternoon for 15 hours of travel. To clarify — I collapsed, but did not sleep despite my attempts at drugging myself.

Lexi did not get out of traveling by crate even though she appeared relaxed and ready as we checked in. She must have still been under the assumption that she was traveling 1st class as any international diplomatic dog should. Nevertheless, she survived as I expected she would, but not before I had a hormonal meltdown at the airport and she upon arrival. Peri-menopause and moving to another country are not good bedfellows. At least that is my excuse.

She looked terrified when we met her at the oversized baggage counter and had apparently “held it in” for the duration of her ordeal. Most of the lack of sleep that I have endured these last few days have been due to Lexi’s jet lag and pacing at all hours of the night.

Our days since arrival have been hectic & filled with unpacking, buying a Nespresso machine (ahhhh), drinking espresso, getting to know our Czech housekeeper Eva, drinking espresso, shopping for essentials, drinking espresso, checking in with the Embassy, and drinking much more espresso. My doctor recently told me that I had to give up caffeine. I suppose the 8 shots of espresso I had yesterday would not be following orders.

To be fair, my day was non-stop. Steve & I departed our temporary apartment at 8:30 AM (2:30 AM body-clock time) after another sleepless night and headed to the US Embassy which was a brisk 1/2 mile walk down hill on all cobblestone streets. Brisk as in 32 degrees and my coats are still clearing customs! Checking in with the Embassy consisted of non-stop meetings till 4 PM that included photo taking, form filling, ID issuing, phone plan negotiations and security briefings. Then there was a welcome reception from 4PM-6PM for us, as well as the rest of the Embassy newcomers. After introductions and making small talk with about 50 people, I snuck in one more latte before heading over to the Ambassador’s house for a dinner party. The day was a blur to say the least. What I do recall was about 5 names and the fact that everyone was extremely nice & welcoming. Not bad.

Fortunately for all involved – we finally slept last night. So today, feeling a bit energized, Lexi & I walked Steve to the Embassy (Lexi on the leash) for Steve’s 1st official day on the job as DCM (Deputy Chief of Mission) of US Embassy Prague and will be in the role of Charge d’Affaires (acting Ambassador) for the next 5 days while the Ambassador is traveling. I know that he will do a great job, but I also realize that I need to get busy keeping myself busy.

Venturing out

I didn’t waste any time. Lexi and I ventured out at lunchtime for a 2 mile stroll down and around the Charles Bridge area. We pushed through hoards of tourists, which ironically I do not see myself as despite just arriving, and found our way to a lovely outdoor cafe with a spectacular bridge view called Hergetova Cihelna.

Lunch with a view

My meal was just as yummy as the view. Having passed by one too many restaurants with bacon dumplings, pork knuckles and bread with lard, I settled upon a terrine of tuna tartare with caviar, breadsticks with olive oil & sea salt and a glass of sauvignon blanc. Not too shabby. Lexi was fascinated by the sites and smells, and really enjoyed our outing together. I know this can only be a great start to a great adventure, and while things are a bit “alien” to me, I am going to try not be be one!!

Our other option……

If you were my glasses — Where would you be?

Tags

art, day-tripping, food, reality, restaurants, Tampa

I can’t be trusted to remember anything lately, but of course nor can Steve. You would think between us we would have one coherent mind. Our children might say, “You guys are just figuring this out?” Wait! Have they said that already? I can’t remember.

I spent the better part of yesterday afternoon searching for my sunglasses. They disappeared somewhere between a morning walk with Diplo-dog and sitting down to check my email 2 hours later. I was certain that they must have fallen off my person (perhaps tucked not tight enough in my cleavage) when I bent over to console Lexi in the elevator after accidentally banging her head into the metal door. I dragged Steve with me to retrace my steps as there are 3 elevators in our building. Which one were we in? Neither of us could remember. After a series of up and down 19 floors, a trip through the garage and a bit of the walking path, I came to the conclusion that they must be in the condo somewhere after all. I looked in all of the obvious places, and then the not so obvious. Could they be in the trash?? The fridge?? On the closet floor where I removed my sneakers?? I checked over and under the blankets on my bed near my laptop; not once, but 3 times. Even Lexi seemed to be looking with us. Could she have eaten them?? It wouldn’t have been the 1st time.

These glasses of mine are not just to block out the bright Florida sun, but to assist me while I drive as they are a prescription pair. Not that driving should matter to me this week. I left my credit card and drivers license at home in Baltimore. Yes, I forgot those too!!

I resigned myself to a week of squinting, being chauffeured around, and called “ditzy” by my husband. Not the worse consequence, although he did mumble something about me earning my food this week. I will remember to forget this.

Late this morning, Steve decided to to take me on an excursion to St. Pete’s. He said I “earned” the right to eat. Men. This made us late for our brunch reservations, so with Steve sitting next to me, I called the restaurant to let them know. No less than five minutes later, he asked me to call the restaurant to let them know we were running late. Who’s ditzy now?? I pointed this out to him, and he said he still had two up on my memory. He also said something else that implied he had forgotten something I told him earlier.  I can’t for the life of me remember what that was.

What I do remember is that we had a lovely brunch at Cassis American Brasserie in downtown St. Pete. This is a French Bistro with an adjacent bakery that has some of the best almond croissants and macaroons that I have tasted recently. I hope to forget that I ate these. The brunch menu has just enough variety to deal with both the carnivore & carb junkie alike.

Following our food-fest, we went to the Museum of Fine Arts which had a varied collection of sculpture, impressionistic masters and contemporary pieces. I was an art major in college, yet I do not have the patience nor interest to read every placard, or sit and contemplate the minutiae of every exhibit as Steve does. He should have been a docent instead of a Diplomat. 

My favorite part of the day was just outside the museum climbing the famous Kapok Tree. Probably not the best decision in high-heel boots, but fun nonetheless. If my mind is becoming that of a child – I may as well enjoy being one every now and again.

We had plans to stop on the way home for a few things at the drugstore, yet neither of us remembered that we planned to stop until we were back home, nor could remember the 4 things we needed anyway. Thank the lord for sticky notes. Steve promptly came in and wrote them down. Now if only I remember to take the list with me tomorrow…..

I am just grateful that the New Year is approaching. Perhaps our minds are just tired from all of the horrible things that have gone on in our world the last few months between the shootings in Newtown, the horrific rape of the young Indian woman, Benghazi & the attack on the NY firefighters to name a few. Maybe we are not forgetful, but just overwhelmed with it all. Not that I really want to forget the hard things in life, but I am hoping for a more peaceful 2013 for everyone, and one with better things to remember.

A letter to my “turkeys”

Tags

Family, food, love, open letter, Thanksgiving

Dearest children —

I have a request. A gift that you can give me and know I will appreciate. One day of the year that I can depend on to have your un-rushed company. One day when you commit to get in the car, plane or train and just show up. One day with no excuses or work commitments. One day no matter what. This one day would be “Thanksgiving Friday”. I realize with all of us being scattered all over the place that this may seem difficult, expensive or less important as the years go by. But to me it is not. I will find a way if you do.

Maybe to you it is just another supper. I suppose I disappointed the ones of you who DID make it home by not serving turkey as I have done for the last 15 years. Without the help of my husband to assist with a 3 day brining of a 30lb beast, I apologize for preparing rack of lamb instead. It wont happen again. I promise. Really. While you were missing poultry, I was sad and missing this ………

And NOT just the bird in the pan (the big Turkey is not allowed to miss another Thanksgiving with me either). I miss saving the neck for Zadie and watching him devour it with juice running down his chin. I miss Bubbie. Everything about her. Don’t make me miss you too.

To the one of you who showed up with a lovely bottle of wine for me – many thanks, and much appreciated no matter how you acquired it (see paragraph below regarding misdemeanors.) To the one of you who chastised me for not making turkey by saying repeatedly, “Why should I even bother coming home from college?”, I am flattered that it has historically been so incredibly moist & delicious that you dare miss it. Sorry. I just wanted your company.

Aunt Jane & I tried to capture the spirit of things with our Mexican turkey napkin rings & our mini-legless-candy-birds. Not the same aroma, I know, but we did try. Just think — we could have named all 11 of these little creatures instead of struggling with just choosing one name as we traditionally do. Petraeus, Romney, Lance – Oh so may “turkeys” out there this year. A missed opportunity.

Trust me when I tell you that I am not over sentimentalizing this. There is a lot of sadness in the world right now and we are suffering from NONE OF IT. Compared to so many families — we got it really good! In addition, as your cousin Kate pointed out this morning – my 5 children are all now officially “adults” and managed to not wind up in “juvie”. I know there have been minor misdemeanors along the way with several of you, but all in all — you are great people and I actually like you! I even love that we get all snarly and dysfunctional more than we should. That is what make us US.

In addition, while we have a few minor health issues between us – a few faulty limbs, a couple digestive issues, a bit of anxiety, and a fake brain tumor to name a few, we have absolutely nothing that will imminently harm us. We are lucky. We rock. I couldn’t be more thankful. I know that my mother is thankful that she could be with her 3 daughters. I too need to be with you. Always.

Laugh at me when my brie explodes in the oven, and even chide me (although one time is enough) for an errant Facebook post. At least we will be together. It is not a chore. It is family. It means the world to me – as do you!

All my love – MOM 🙂

On a date with a Diplomat – Experiencing the surreal

Tags

day-tripping, Diplomatic, food, furniture guru, love, reality, Tampa

A date with a Diplomat conjures up all sorts of images. Before I met my husband, I would have assumed it meant going to a swanky cocktail party attended by a group foreign dignitaires. And while those events do happen, abet rare, the life of a Diplomat is far less glamorous and more of an ernest interaction with the colorful, local culture. In this case — Tampa, Florida. So while my friends and family were weathering the surreal “Superstorm” that swirled above the east coast, I went “local” with my husband on a surreal date.

What made it surreal? Well to start with – today is Tuesday. It is not often that I get to spend the middle of a work day with the love of my life, but the State Department was shut down for the day (as was my office), so my husband justified a day off too to be with his girl. “Where are we going?”, I asked.

“To the Salvador Dali Museum”, he answered, not knowing that Dali was one of my favorite surrealistic artists. Hard to believe I know, but it just never came up in our 17 years together.  It was truly a date. My husband had learned something new about me, AND we we were going out without Diplo-dog tagging and wagging along. (sorry Lexi)

Being a bit of an architecture junkie, I was most impressed by the simplicity, yet grandeur of this new museum which is located in downtown, St. Pete. The image of the spiral staircase does not do it justice.

We stopped downstairs at Café Gala to grab a much needed café con leche (we were a bit restless last night worrying about the Storm back home), and a bite to eat. While a limited menu – the enslada de jamón and serranitas were exceptional.  Having had toured the museum for a while, we learned that Gala was the wife and muse of Dali. She is featured in many of his works of art and as Steve pointed out, he must have loved her as much as Steve loves me. My date was trying to charm me.

Sitting in the cafe, the furniture guru in me couldn’t help noticing how well the chairs worked with the architecture. I had to of course find out who made them, so I snapped a detail of the chair for reference. I thought they might be Spanish (being in the Dali museum and all), but it turns out that they are the Caprini “Caprice” chairs made in Italy. I think my company should sell these!!!The highlight of our museum tour was me finally getting to see one of my all time favorite paintings in person – “Dali Lincoln Vision“. I also loved “The Girl with the Curls” and “Old Age, Adolescence, and Infancy” amongst others. The Dali Museum website features these and many more. If you click each photo in the link, you can pan over some of the intricate details. Surrealism at it’s best.

My date didn’t end there.

Next stop – Bed, Bath and Beyond. Yes – when you have been married for a while — you might wind up shopping for laundry baskets and mattress covers in the midst of a romantic afternoon together.

I was relieved when my husband suggested that we stop for a romantic dinner. With my date back on track I thought Tapas or something gourmet would round out our adventure. “It is a another fabulous surprise”, he said. Well it was a bit of a surprise and a bit surreal to find out that dinner was going to be served out of a HUT. the “Jerk Hut” to be exact.While it is tempting to jest that “my jerk” took me to the “Jerk Hut” — a local Jamaican greasy-spoon joint — I will do no such thing. In fact, while not hors-d’oeuvres or fancy Diplomatic cocktail fare, the jerk chicken & roasted goat were actually quite yummy, and my husband served both up on a tray in bed with a luscious glass of malbec. Going “local” with my husband in the end was pretty “REAL” and also quite wonderful.