Visitors Come and Go

On Sunday, friends (and former colleagues) Joyce and Sheila arrived, coming from the monsoons in Vancouver to the glorious sunshine in Palm Springs.  After a brief stop at home

(I do love the oohs and aahs of people seeing a manufactured home for the first time)

....we went off to Sunnylands, the home and grounds of the famous Annenbergs (where Obama and the rest of the dignitaries stay when Air Force One flies in to Palm Springs (a relatively frequent sight, considering).  I had never been before either, so it was a treat for me too..

We stopped at the cafe first, for some badly needed sustenance....

... and then on to the lovely grounds (a tour of the house is available only with a hard-to-get reservation)

....which still left us enough pool time to make the day complete.

Jim and Joni (see previous post) had arranged for a brunch at the Parker on Monday morning, after their round of golf.  The Parker has not been previously mentioned in these pages, mostly because I never knew about it.  This, in spite of the fact that it is literally around the corner from my place.  It is truly old Palm Springs, a spa/resort, with beautiful rooms and two wonderful restaurants.  We chose breakfast, mostly because it only required the mortgage of first born to pay for breakfast (dinner required the sale of souls).

Below, the banana, mango and pineapple smoothie a "complimentary" appetizer (trust me, we paid for it....)

....our always smiling waitress...

...Joni and Jim.....

...and their golfing buddies Earl and Gary (????)

...below, Wagner's Ring of Fruit (no, I'm not kidding)...

After absolutely stuffing ourselves, we walked through the grounds and lobbies...

After taking leave of old (and new) friends, the girls and I headed to the tram, for the views ((see prior blogs - I left my camera in the car), and, for them, the hike (I have found that I can't hike in the cold any more.  Yes, I said cold.  At 8,600 feet, the top of the tram is 30-40 degrees colder than the valley floor.  And yes, there was snow.)

After that, it was back to the pool, and our newly-minted evening ritual of freshly squeezed citrus fruit and a salute to another successful day.

On Tuesday, we were off to some city (relatively speaking, of course) stuff, like the Galen Art Gallery and the Faye Sarkowsky Sculpture Garden in Palm Desert...

...and nearby El Paseo (Palm Springs answer to LA's Rodeo Drive)...

...followed by lunch at a (nameless) Mexican restaurant on El Paseo, and, of course, the pool.

On Wednesday, we were off to Joshua Tree National Park for a closer look at the "real" desert.

(and no, that wasn't us climbing those rocks...)

It really is a magical place.  By the time we got back we were starving, and by popular request, went Mexican again, this time to La Tablita, one of my local favourites.

Then, off to the pool again, where I left the girls, opting myself to go to the Ice Cream Social being given in honour of the Snowbirds, now starting to leave for their respective northern climes...

Thursday (their last day, already) we opted for a walk through town and the Palm Springs Art Gallery.  It was too hot, though (98, according to my car), so we gave town, at least, short shrift, and opted for home, and the last of the citrus while sitting in my always cool garden.  (I am not sure I have given you pictures of the garden - more next time...)

And then it was off to the airport, and the last goodbyes (until I see them in 6 weeks in Vancouver....is it only 6 weeks?  OMG.....)

Friday, almost back to routine, but not quite.  The Palm Springs Sectional Bridge Tournament is being held this weekend, so Art and I were off, in quest of points again....

Well, no points yesterday....maybe today.

Errors and Omissions, Hits and Misses

First, the omission.  Just a late incoming picture from our last dim sum in Vancouver on February 28th.  Normally, I wouldn't bother, but, for a change, it is actually a good one of me.

(That's friend Sheila on the left.  Sheila and Joyce are arriving tomorrow for a visit.  But that is a post for another day....)

The error?  I got the name of the David Hare play wrong in my last post.  It is called "Beyond the Beautiful Forevers", and, by the way, it has grown on me in retrospect, as far as I am concerned, the sign of a good play.  I am still thinking about it, after all.

Oh, yes, another omission.  Two weeks ago, there was a great article (among many, of course) in the Sunday New York Times.  It was about a "happy gene", which occurs in about 20% of the human race.  What does it do?  It produces a state of "euphoria" if you will, somewhat like smoking pot (What would I know about that?) and, more to the point in my case, it makes you forget about bad experiences, leaving only the good ones rattling around in ones brain.  I have always said I only remember the good stuff, and I have always said it was genetic.  Vindicated!  (And yes, someday, dear readers, I will figure out how to provide you with links to my favourite articles.  Bill O, do you make house calls?)

There were several potential experiences that I missed this week.  I didn't go to the St Patties day "do" in our complex, foregoing the pleasure (not!) of corned beef and cabbage.  The "do" was on Saturday, and I had gotten too much sun at the pool that day,came back, dressed, and sat down on the chaise on my patio to rest for a few minutes before walking down to the club house.  Two hours later, I woke up, with the party half over.  I opted for cheese and crackers for dinner instead.  (I revel in eating cheese down here - it is so much cheaper than it is in Canada, one can actually afford to buy lots of good cheeses - and I do!)  Oh well.  Next year.

Another miss was the art exhibit opening at the new Architecture and Design Museum downtown.  I actually made it there.

Now, admittedly, I had been running around all day and was still in my (if I must say, reasonably fashionable) gym clothes.  Not dressed  up, but not looking like a homeless person either.  Well, when I arrived, the entry was still barred, and some officious person came out to say, in a huff, that the museum was closed to the general public.  When I told her that I knew that, that I was a member, and that I had been invited, she sniffed "well, how was I to know?".  At which point, I told her that she couldn't have known, which is why she should treat everyone as members until she found out otherwise, and stomped out.  I heard later (a lot of the people from bridge and/or the opera also go to the art "do's", that it was a really good lecture, although not such a good exhibit.  Oh well.  That will learn me not to be so huffy!!!

However, there were some hits this week as well, to balance out the misses.  First, I went to the Metropolitan Opera in HD, to see (and, of course, hear) Rossini's "Donna del Lago".  It is based on a story, Lady of the Lake, by Sir Walter Scott, and is an opera which I neither seen nor heard before, a "belt notch", so to speak.  And a delightful one, too, great voices, great sets, a cast of thousands just meant for the Met Chorus.  Anyway, all in all, a wonderful experience in a sold out house.

I also went to two classes at the bridge center, given by Eddie Kantor.

Here's me and Eddie.....

Those of you who play bridge know that he is a legend in the bridge world, and, indeed, was a mentor to my very favourite bridge writer, Barbara Seagram (A Canadian, and good friend of my friend and fellow bridge player Tom, in one of those "small world" things.)  Anyway, legend or not, he is probably getting to be past his "best by" date, so if I was ever going to see his, this was the time.  So I signed up, and am very glad I did.  Not only is he a very funny man, he is also a great teacher, with common sense advice for better bidding and playing.  I very much enjoyed it, and, with any sort of luck, will actually retain some of it!

Another hit was Renee Fleming, giving a recital at the McCallum Theater.  In spite of coming here for - is it six years now? - I had never been to the McCallum.  This finally got me to make the effort, especially since friends robin and Grant were anxious to join me.

As a rule, I am not fond of recitals, and this one was no exception.  However, Renee Fleming is still lovely, still in full voice, and very personable.  And Robin is always so enthusiastic and appreciative, it is always a pleasure to do anything with her.  Once again, a good time was had by all.

And, yet another hit, drinks and talk with friends John and Jim White.  In yet another of those "small world" things, I had connected with them at the Donna del Lago performance.  Dr. White was our doctor in Vancouver before David died, and had become a friend over the years (I will not ever forget the trouble he took scouring used book stores to find a book about old airplanes for David's 72nd - and last - birthday party.  By the way he was recommended to me originally by Michael and Barbara, who were friends because they knew my first husband Jeffrey's secretary in Toronto and we were told to look them up when we got to Vancouver.  And so it goes.)  Anyway, when I saw them at the theater, I told them to call, and come over for drinks.  That happened last evening...

We ate some more of that good cheese, drank wine, talked opera, theater and life in general, and had altogether a good time.  I hope to see them at least one more time before they leave for Vancouver.

So.  That was my week.  I did finish the biography of Benjamin Britten I was reading, and found myself getting teary at his death.  Interesting, though, that at the same time (in the 50's) they were chemically castrating Alan Turing in Britain for being homosexual, Britten and his partner, the great tenor Peter Pears, were living an openly gay (although admittedly not flamboyant - they were not found cruising in a lavatory, as Turing apparently was) life in the self same Britain.  The difference between the arts and government!

Have started reading (yes, again, for my sharp-eyed readers) "The Bully Pulpit" by Doris Kearns Goodwin.  Although she (along with David McCullough) is among my favourite history writers, the book did not capture me the first time, and I ultimately put it down after some 100 pages.  This time, though, I am rapt, and will finish it, I think, with dispatch.  It is about the relationship between Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the muckraking journalists who were so effecting government at the time

For lighter fare, I have started "The Never List", a thriller by new author Koethi Zan (what kind of a name is that?), which also seems like it will be a winner.

Well, it is Saturday morning.  No gym, no bridge; I will have an early lunch (or, if you prefer, a late breakfast), and head to the pool, and so will bid you, my faithful readers, adieu.

Rewind and fast forward...

So, when I last left you, I was waiting for a taxi in Vancouver.  However (and this is the rewind part), I owed you a picture from our last outing to Yokahama.  It was a reprise of friends Deidre, Susan and myself.  The last time we were there, we very much admired the Tappanyaki part of the restaurant, with the Japanese chef, the fancy knives and the flames, so we went back.  Here, only slightly late, is the resulting picture....

I can't take credit for the picture - that was the sweet waitress Laura at the restaurant - all I can take credit for is figuring how to upload it from Deidre's e-mail.

Where was I?  Oh, on the way to Palm Springs.  Here is what winter looks like in Palm Springs....

Oh, have I mentioned that before?

Neighbor and friend Michael and friends Mariah and Mar picked me up from the airport.  Our usual ritual at times like these is to stop for brunch at Sherman's Deli, but there was a half an hour wait, as there was at the next two places we tried.  We had time constraints, as Mar and Mariah were leaving in a few hours, flying back to Seattle, so we ended up at Carrows, a chain.  In any event, it wasn't the food but the company that mattered here, and we did have a good time, in the "it is more fun to dish something than to praise it" school of reality.  We dropped Mar and Mariah at the airport, and I was well and truly back, in time for a welcome afternoon nap (remembering that I had been up all night the night before.)

And, on Monday, back to the Palm Springs routine - an hour and a half at the gym in the morning, rest, errands (if there are any - there often aren't - my life here is not all that complicated), brunch, and bridge in the afternoons.  The first week in March was STaC week (Those of you who play duplicate know what it is, those of you who don't don't care), suffice it to say, Master Points were to be had, so I actually played bridge six times that week.  Robin and I came in first in our section on Monday, and Nancy and I placed second on Tuesday and Friday, so points were indeed accumulated.  Needless to say, there wasn't time for too much else, but Michael and I did manage to go out to dinner on Thursday.   It was Michael's birthday, so we took each other out in honour of our respective birthdays (I am never here for mine, which is in July).  Michael wanted to share a place he is fond of (and I had never heard of), The Europa.

As you can see from the pictures, it is very old Palm Springs (actually attached to an old, and still functioning inn of 32 rooms).  It is the kind of place that Michael and I both like - as we like to say, an adult restaurant, with a dress code, no children, and old favourites like escargot, steak tartar, osso bucco, lamb shanks, etc.  Both the food and service were exceptional, as were the martinis.  Definitely, two (or in this case, 4) thumbs up.

By Saturday, I was all bridged out.  In the morning, Art and Wally invited me to look at a place they are thinking of making an offer on,  (They are moving from this park, which they love, in the interests of their future financial security).  I am sorry to see them moving, but house hunting - especially when other people are buying, is always fun.

In the afternoon, I drove out to La Quinta, where friends Robin and Grant live, and where the annual art fair was taking place.  It is, supposedly, the biggest art fair in the country.  I don't know about that, but it was certainly big enough for me.  I don't think we saw the half of it in the four hours we allotted to it.

However, the venue was lovely, and my "I'm not buying" line left everyone laughing ("You'll have to introduce me to someone who will support me in the style to which I would like to become accustomed to buy me the house that those should be in....."  I did buy two things, a new hat (big surprise!  However, this was considerably more expensive than my usual thrift store purchases) and I small piece of art.

So, all in all, a very successful day!!

And, Sunday, finally, a day of rest, with the New York Times, floating in the pool (and yet again, no pictures.  If there is ever anyone else at the pool when I'm there, maybe I'll get a picture.  No promises, mind!)

This week has been very much routine, gym and bridge, but for today, when in spite of (or perhaps because of) the heat, I went to the movies, to see the National Theater of London's filming of their production of the new David Hare play, Behind the Beautiful Beyond.  I love the National Theater productions.  They are uniformly well acted and well staged, and this was no different.  But this was pretty dark.  It took place in a slum behind the airport in Mubai, where a colony of rubbish sorters (and pickers and transporters and others) live their lives in constant fear of graft and police harassment and the fear of being bulldozed away.  There were two suicides, one accidental death by setting oneself on fire, and numerous beatings.  I know, I know, it doesn't hold a candle to the number of deaths in an opera, but  the blood and screams are much more immediate in the movies.  Anyway, I would definitely recommend it - there was a sore of reconciliation in the end - but with the reservation that it is not pretty.

What else?  Still reading lots - I found a new biography of Wagner, and a book called Dealing with Darwin, which discusses how Darwin was received differently depending on the social mores and expectations where it was read.  An interesting concept.  Really, though, I must say, both books were a little beyond me.  So, at this point, I am back to reading novels, starting with a Henry James I seem to have missed, The Bostonians.  It is a strange book, but at least I can understand it!

More culture this week.  I'll keep you posted!

Two sunny weeks in Vancouver in the winter - unheard of!

The time has flown by.  Before I tell you about it, though, I need to do a bit of a rewind.

Before I left Palm Springs on February 15, I went to a memorial for our friend Floyd.  Friend might be putting too fine a point on it - he was certainly part of our extended circle, but I didn't know him very well.  Odd, though, it doesn't matter how well you know someone, everyone knows a different side of that person, and they are all reflected at these memorials.

.....here's Alkie, our talented singer..... (there wasn't a dry eye in the house)

This was all arranged by friend Pete, and, in spite of the casual dress, was amazingly lovely.  Floyd was actually five days younger than I am, but the smoking (which he did till the day of his death) and the cancer were not kind to him.  Lovely things were said (does everyone else wonder what will be said about them when the time comes?), touching and funny both, and one of our talented cohort sang an amazingly beautiful version of Amazing Grace.

The first of many, I am afraid, but I am glad to have gone.

I got into Vancouver late on Sunday, the 15th, and was actually in the office early on Monday.  I wanted to start work anyway, but this was a command performance - the retirement party of good friend Bill.  We have worked together - I don't know exactly how long, I don't think we ever worked it out, but certainly the better part of a decade or more.

.....here's the happy retiree himself, looking suitably stunned.....

...and here is Bea, our resident historian, telling tales.....

Funny thing about retirement.  No matter how much you want to retire, no matter how much money you have, it seems to cause great consternation for everyone.  It must be right up there with marriage and moving on the stress meter.  And it is a huge change, being adrift from a paycheck, feeling intimations of your own mortality, and, in our case, feeling that you will miss your colleagues.  Bill and I have a particular rapport - in these days of political correctness and sexual harassment accusations, we could say anything to one another.  And did.  I will, of course, still see him for coffees and lunches, but I will miss our day to day!  God speed, Bill!

Now we are back to Tuesday, the 17th, and the surgery.  It all went well.  Colleague and friend Deidre drove me to the hospital, where I spent more time talking to people, filling out forms and waiting than I did being operated on.  The plastic surgeon - well, what can I say, she is one of those women who I develop crushes on - dynamic and smart and funny and, apparently, talented.  She seems to have done a good job!  When she was done, I felt (as she had warned) like someone had beaten me up, but the hump was gone, I walked out on my own steam, and didn't even fill the prescription for pain killer until 5 days later, when I got tired of feeling like someone beat me up and did something about it.

On the day of the operation, though, Deidre just picked me up and we both went back to the office (I have to say, the surgeon thought I was out of my mind.  Her only comment was "Don't you ever watch television?")  Deidre, Susan and I did go out to Yokahama that night to celebrate!

And then, back to the grind of work and friends.  Below, our regular Monday Pho lunch, this time held on Thursday in light of the party for Bill on Monday.

Friend Joyce and I went for a walk in Steveston on Saturday - you can see the glorious weather for yourselves...

Lucky for you guys, the one thing I forgot to pack was the charger for my camera, so that is the last of the pictures for now.  The two coffees (Bill and Eric), one lunch (Randy), two dinners (Lois and Heather and Jack), two bridge playing opportunities (one day at the bridge club and one night at John's with the boys), two nurse Nora visits to Tom (who has just heart surgery), two other walks in the sunshine (alone, actually) and two theater evenings (with the otherTom) went undocumented.  And yes, I did manage to get my work done.  Some pictures might be forthcoming later - lots of telephones were brandished when I told people my tale of woe vis a vis my camera, but I will believe it when I see it.

A word about the theater.  Last Saturday, Tom and I went to a small theater in Langara College called Studio 58, and saw, of all things, Oklahoma.  It has probably been 40 years since I saw it last, but, amazingly, I still knew all the words (I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No" used to be my party piece!).  They did a wonderful job of it, singing choreography, staging, everything was great, and in a theater that small, you were right in the middle of the action.  Great audience too.  Altogether a wonderful theater evening!  Tom and I have been going to the theater since law school - a few minutes ago!!! - and I hope we keep doing it for many years to come.

And tonight, we ("we"" being Tom and myself) went to the Metro Theater, a funky old (but largish) theater, and saw an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, directed by my friend Joan, who I know from working props at the United Players.  Also excellent (thank God, imagine having to explain to Joan that I didn't like the play on which she had expended so much effort!)   The actors were young and enthusiastic, and well, as we all know, it is a feel-good story.  I'm not that big a fan (gasp!) of Austen, but it was another great night at the theater.

Well, I've almost wasted enough time (it is 1:30 A.M., and the taxi coming to take me to the airport is coming at 4!).  I'll just tell you about my most recent book.  Someone recommended Alan Furst, and I just read Dark Star.  I guess you would call it an espionage thriller, a type of book I don't normally read, but the action takes place in Europe before WW II, the "hero" (or antihero, rather) is a Polish/Russian Jew, and his descriptions  - well, I recognize it all.  It is my parents' Europe, part of my DNA.  I can't unreservedly recommend it - it is very dark - but I am happy to have read it.  Just one brief example.   He is on his way to Germany, and is among a group of people singing Deutschland Uber Alles.  He describes the songs and singers, and goes on to say: "It was the instinctive and passionate unity of the singers that frightened him; the sheer depth of it was overwhelming.  You couldn't, he thought, find three Jews in the world who would agree on what it meant to be Jewish, yet there were apparently fifty million of these people who knew exactly what it meant to be German, though many of those on deck had never set foot in Germany...."

Well, you see what I mean.

I'm on to reading The Bostonians, by Henry James, hopefully, not quite so dark.  Between that and the pile of Economists John saved up for me, I should keep out of mischief!

Well, time to pack up and get the show on the road.  I will write again - sooner, I hope - from Palm Springs!