Today we’re enjoying a short break (two nights in the same hotel!) in the Old Market area of downtown Omaha, Nebraska:
The Old Market area is reputedly the most picturesque part of downtown Omaha, and this is the cutest part of Old Market:
I’m afraid the shot is a bit cockeyed, because I was terrified someone was going to pop out and yell at me. This little nook is so popular with photographers, there’s an involved, semi-hostile sign limiting photography to one hour a day even for “amateurs, grandmothers, moms, dads, etc.” and I was half an hour beyond the photo window. I think it means for wedding and graduation photos and the like, since it also lists various forbidden activities like moving the plants and reminds the reader that this is not a studio, but it had me shaking in my shoes.
The angular geometry of the urban landscape catches my attention most before the trees leaf out. Although it’s the first day of Spring, the only sign of that here is the blue sky:
Definitely grateful for the blue sky, though, and the warmth, and my slightly improved health that allowed me to stroll a few blocks in public without people crossing to the other side of the street–at least until they heard me cough!
According to Vivian Swift (see my Quotes page*), every road trip has a low point, and our first day was a serious contender. I sincerely hope it doesn’t get much lower than yesterday. I’ve got a raging cold/flu/bronchitis thing that made the day super miserable for me and not much better for David, since he had to look at me. Between the sneezing, sniffles, coughing, etc., I look like I’ve been on a four-day crying jag, and freckled blonds such as myself never cry prettily. Mind you, I haven’t done any actual crying, I just look enough like it that random strangers encountered at gas stations and hotels tend to look extremely uncomfortable. But now, after a visit to the doc and the pharmacy, I have a giant sack of meds, so hopefully I’ll be on the mend soon.
I’ve been way too unwell to snap photos, but I can’t leave you with no photos, so here are a few more of the Alexandria trip of a few days ago.
Cheering on Chelsea and the other runners was actually great. Chelsea’s boyfriend Will would yell things like, “Way to go 34126!” or “Looking good 29372!” to random runners none of us knew, and you’d see people glance down at their number and smile and perk up, and his mom was Cheerleader Extraordinaire. Here is the glaring evidence that I am not a professional sports photographer:
Chelsea’s friend Rachel is on the left in green. Great to see both of them running strong at the top of a hill at mile 8. Here are Chelsea and her friends at brunch after the race:
So after the quick weekend trip, Monday was spent finalizing things at the house (and seeing the doctor, as mentioned above), packing up the car, then driving to just east of Cheyenne, where my miserable self got straight in bed. We woke to blowing snow and road closures west and south of us, so were glad we were heading east where the snow was intermittent and didn’t hamper us much.
Today we made it to Kearney, Nebraska, which may be fabulously photogenic on other days, but not today, and honestly I haven’t ever managed any great shots while speeding along I-80, so I’ll leave you instead with something very photogenic from a bit further north, near I-90, taken on a previous road trip:
*Be sure to check out my Quotes page periodically, as new quotes are added from time to time.
On Wednesday, we moved out of our house in Colorado, and flew the next day to Alexandria, Virginia, to cheer on our youngest daughter as she runs a half-marathon on Saturday. David managed to score a great deal on first class tickets for barely more than the coach ticket plus bag fees and lunch with drinks in both directions. He didn’t mention it to me, preferring it to be a surprise, so of course, there I am at the airport, trailing behind, feebly calling to him as he charges on past the coach kiosks: “Um, David, where are you going? We’re supposed to go over here. . . . David?” I thought he was just oblivious. But what a welcome surprise after days of the chaos of moving. I’m battling some cold/flu thing, so thought I’d better choose orange juice as my complimentary beverage. Doesn’t it look healthy?
Love our super-cute hotel just off King Street (the main drag of Alexandria):
We needed to tend to business while our room was being cleaned, so set up with our laptops in the library of the hotel:
Very pleasant, nice and warm, with smooth jazz playing in the background. After catching up with emails, we had a nice little wander down King Street.
I love all the old brick and shiny black trim. Bit chilly yet to do much exploring, especially while feeling not so great, but at least the sun was out. It seems Spring may actually arrive this year after all. Bon courage!
The time really is getting short now. I can almost hear NASA counting down to blastoff. We’re not quite all packed, but close, so we decided to take another quick trip down south to Santa Fe and Albuquerque for a taste of spring and a temporary goodbye to some family. Our room at the Inn at Vanessie was super-Southwesty-cute:
The piano bar was enticing as ever, with the beautiful artwork that characterizes Santa Fe:
I’m afraid a still photo does not begin to capture how mesmerizing the wind sculptures outside were in the breeze:
The taste of spring was a little elusive. We woke up to snow Saturday morning. Really? Will this winter never end? But within a couple of hours the snow had melted away and we were encouraged to see the trees in Albuquerque are in bloom:
And, double bonus, the High Noon Saloon did not disappoint:
The moving van arrives on Wednesday to load up everything that hasn’t been pitched, donated, or temporarily farmed out to foster families (piano, etc.), so we have two days of intense final packing ahead of us. In a way, it’s good, because we don’t have time to think about all the dear friends we’re leaving behind. One of the Bon Voyage cards we received said something like, “I’m terrible at goodbyes, so I’m just going to pretend we’re playing Hide and Go Seek, and you’re just really hard to find.” So here we go, cover your eyes . . . 100, 99, 98, 97 . . . .
Woohoo! Long-stay visas were granted, and we leave in less than a month, but we’re STILL packing, including the beautiful book you see above, so I decided it was time for a little more reminiscing of past adventures.
Shortly before heading off to France last spring, I decided to replace my point and shoot with a decent camera. I had been addicted to photography in my pre-mom days, but when our girls were growing up, I discovered it was impossible to simultaneously host the birthday party, carry the cake out to the waiting hordes, and artistically document it all with a completely manual SLR camera, with everything that involved: light meter, f-stop, depth-of-field, focus, separate flash attachment, interchangeable lenses, etc. Yikes. Not enough arms or time.
But now that they’re grown, it’s time. So I found a great deal on an entry-level DSLR, and after playing with it (and fire) a bit at home,
I decided to try it out on a weekend road trip down to visit family in Albuquerque in March of 2013.
Lots of super photogenic sights, like the beautiful chiles above, but after David’s patience had been pushed to the limit, we decided to look for a place for some guacamole and maybe a couple of margaritas. Not sure how we got the nerve to go into this place — It’s called the High Noon Saloon and it’s pretty sketchy looking on the outside, but look what we found inside:
And — bonus — the food was great. Now it’s our favorite Albuquerque spot.
Turns out you can also go wine-tasting in Albuquerque, as there are quite a number of vineyards, but we only went to the Casa Rondeña Winery. It was so beautiful, we just sort of hung around the grounds (and took a few photos, of course).
The next day, on the way back to Colorado, we stopped in Santa Fe for a look around, and happened into this place.
This is the Loretto Chapel, and the story goes that there was no way up to the choir loft and all the carpenters consulted concluded that there was only room for a ladder. The Sisters of the Chapel made a Novena to St. Joseph, patron saint of carpenters, and on the ninth and final day of prayer, a man showed up with a donkey and tools, looking for work. Months later, the beautiful staircase complete, the man disappeared without pay and without a trace. Aside from the mystery of the carpenter, some of the design considerations perplex experts to this day, enough that it was featured on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries.*
May your journey lead you also to beauty, story, mystery, and of course, fabulous food and wine.
Packing Update: I’ve now packed all the fiction — 40 boxes total. Woohoo! Next up Memoir / Biography.
I promised more about Bishop Castle a couple of posts ago, so here you go. Our neighborhood Harley group did a weekend ride to southern Colorado back in June of 2012, and one of the stops was a place unlike any other I’d ever seen, all built by one man during the very short summers that an altitude of 9000 feet offers. Be sure to note the iron sphere, the highest accessible point, at least at the time we were there.
You really have to climb it to fully experience this place, but I was able to get a few quick snaps whenever I could convince my fingers to loosen their grip on whatever handhold I could find. Terry, one of the riders in our group, had no such qualms:
Yeesh. I hyperventilate just looking at the photo. Plus — added bonus — the whole thing shimmies with every footstep ANYONE takes ANYWHERE on the iron part of the structure.
I think you should consider this a dead end and choose another route.
In case you can’t really tell how high this is, check out our Harleys in this photo shot from inside the sphere. Go ahead and get your magnifying glass. I’ll wait.
That’s the dragon to the right, unfortunately (fortunately?) not spewing flames when we were there. Rumor has it there’s a plan for a new burner that would be able to shoot flames 30 feet. Not sure how you get a permit for that in a state with annual raging wildfires. Hm.
Here’s another shot of the dragon:
The drive alone was spectacular, along the Frontier Pathways Scenic and Historic Byway, and this place must be seen to be believed. There seem to be several Bishop Castle websites, so just Google it and take your pick, but whatever you do, find a map or directions so you can start planning your very own scary climbing adventure!
We’re on full-steam-ahead mode now. You’ll be happy for David when you hear that I’m finally helping with the packing. I’ve now packed 29 boxes of books, which is more than half of the fiction section of our library. It was actually kind of addictive, like a jigsaw puzzle, so I will definitely be packing more of the library, I promise.
Here is the final post about the 2013 reconnaissance mission, originally written just after we had arrived home (chez nous):
We managed to dodge all the transportation strikes in France and the lightning in Denver that almost forced our plane to land in Colorado Springs instead, and got home late Thursday evening, the 13th of June.
Here is the last set of photos from our three weeks in France. These are a few I wanted to send earlier, but they didn’t quite make the first cut. So for a temporary farewell to France, here they are.
Inside shot of Musée d’Orsay. No photos allowed in among the paintings, but this is from the little scenic overlook you can climb up to after you finish admiring the Impressionists. I think I was allowed to take this shot, but if not, it’s too late now!
The posh restaurant at the Musée d’Orsay mentioned in an earlier email. Fortunately the rain chased us in there.
Tiny park in Paris with benches after my own heart.
Another shot of the park with the pretty blue benches.
One of the other beaches on Ile de Ré. Love this picturesque ramp, but my favorite part was the sign right next to it saying, “Beach Access 0 km →” (or more likely Plage Accès) pointing to the right AWAY from the ramp. I can agree with the 0 km distance, but I question the need for the sign in the first place and certainly the direction of the arrow. Quoi? (Roughly, Huh?)
This and other mysteries will perhaps be solved soon. We fly to France on the 26th of March.