dual personalities

Happy 4th of July from daughter # 2! I would be remiss if I didn’t share some lines from Walt Whitman, one of my favorite Americans:

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,

Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,

The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,

The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,

Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

Don’t you just love those last few lines?

Wishing everyone a robust and friendly celebration today — and hoping you have a strong, melodious song to sing!

Since it’s almost Independence Day, I thought I would post about a quintessentially American experience, a visit to the rodeo. On our way through North Dakota, we stopped at Jamestown, a small city about 100 miles east of Bismarck, so we could go to the James River Rodeo at the County Fair. We could also have watched stock car racing — boy, is that a noisy sport; it almost drowned out the rodeo announcer — but we restrained ourselves. The midway was pretty standard, although the food offerings were certainly exotic: pork chop on a stick, freshly battered cheese curd, and something awful with shrimp, the name of which escapes me. We were not brave enough to try any of it.

Without doubt the highlight of our evening was the rodeo, which cost a whopping $10.

I loved everything about it, including the fact that they started with the Cowboy’s Prayer, by Clem McSpadden (they begin every rodeo this way):

Our gracious and heavenly Father, we pause in the midst of this festive occasion, mindful of the many blessings you have bestowed upon us.

As cowboys, Lord, we don’t ask for any special favors. We ask only that you will let us compete in this arena as in the arena of life.

We don’t ask that we never break a barrier, draw around a chute-fighting horse, or draw a steer that just won’t lay. We don’t even ask for all daylight runs.

We only ask that you help us to compete in life as honest as the horses we ride and in a manner as clean and pure as the wind that blows across this great land of ours.

Help us, Lord, to live our lives in such a manner that when we make that last inevitable ride to the country up there, where the grass grows lush, green and stirrup high, and the water runs cool, clear and deep, that you, as our last Judge, will tell us that our entry fees are paid.

Amen.

Everyone stood, removed hats, and bowed heads for the prayer, and then placed their hands across their hearts for the national anthem. The whole thing reminded me of how great our country can be. People were simply out enjoying themselves; there was no drinking or bad behavior of any kind. By the way, in our travels throughout the north and west we never saw any political signs or slogans of any kind. We did see lots of veterans appreciation monuments and evidence of religion — how refreshing! Back in Iowa we even saw signs for the Bar None Cowboy Church (check it out!).  But I digress.

Rodeo events in Jamestown included bareback bronc riding, tie down calf roping, breakaway roping, saddle bronc busting, barrel racing, steer wrestling, ladies’ goat tying, team roping, and bull riding. You name it, they did it. All the cowboys and girls were from the region (North and South Dakota or Montana) and they all behaved very professionally (no swearing, no arguments, no tears). I didn’t take a lot of photos, but these few will give you an idea. Some of the contestants were quite young (high school) and one of the barrel racers was about 10.

Those broncs could really kick!

Ladies’ barrel racing was great, but they moved so fast it was difficult to get a good shot.

And the bull riding was so wild that my photos are all blurry. Seriously, those bulls were mean! In fact, they were so crazy that not one of the riders managed to stay on for the allotted time, but several of them did get stepped on. Fortunately, no one got seriously hurt.  Watching this made me glad that my boys are all grown up and not given to dangerous sports.

The rodeo was well run, friendly and thoroughly enjoyable. If you’ve never been to one, try to go — it’s nice to see all those cowboy hats!

If all goes well, by God’s grace, my next post will be from home sweet home! Happy July 4th!

I (daughter #2) recently got to host cousins Ellen and Foster for a night while they made their way to the Shenandoah Valley. This midweek stopover was brief, but it was a wonderful chance to catch up for the first time in several years!

One thing I always appreciate in a guest (family or otherwise) is when someone takes a look around and notices different things in our apartment. Old photos, samplers, and antique store finds are great fodder for conversation! And in chatting about who stitched what, where the vintage photo of Mom was taken, how the gallery wall came about, etc., I get to take a bit of pride in our 1-bedroom apartment, even though its diminutive size can be frustrating…

Do you notice something about these photos? Brown furniture! We are fully on board with scoring a nice chest of drawers from an antique emporium or the side of the street. These pieces bring me a lot of joy, maybe because they remind me of my mom, or due to some separate history of their own, or because of sheer aesthetic appeal.

Nice furniture helps me to appreciate my home: though she be but little, she is fierce packed to the gills with good taste! 😉

On Tuesday, we drove through the Sawtooth National Forest out of Idaho and into Montana. The scenery was spectacular and the terrain extremely varied.

I am constantly impressed by our planet and the evidence of its history.

Most of all, I love the sky and weather. In the higher elevations of Wyoming, Idaho and Montana it was cool, windy and variable.  One could get used to such sights.

Our goal for the day was to visit Bannach State Park, an old mining town and now a ghost town in the middle of nowhere, Montana. It was a good decision. The town was founded in 1862 when gold was discovered in them there hills (actually in the creek). The boom was short-lived, however, and by 1871 the gold had run out, so the people turned to agriculture and the town became the county seat. From then until its total abandonment in the 1950s, it had a checkered history, including outlaws, vigilantes, and threatened Indian attacks.

Built in 1875 this brick building was originally a courthouse. Then it became a hotel.

It is the largest and only brick building in the town. Here is its grand staircase:

I’ve always wanted to go to a ghost town. From the outside the buildings are very cool looking, but inside there isn’t too much to see other than very uneven, squishy wooden floors and peeling wallpaper, although that has its own appeal. Some of the interiors are so wobbly as to make one feel a little disoriented and seasick walking through them.

There was no running water anywhere, no insulation and no central heating — just stoves. It certainly must have been cold in the winter!

The DH found the old saloon that was supposedly run by the local nasty criminal kingpin, Henry Plummer, who also happened to be the sheriff. A vigilante organization finally caught and hanged him and two of his deputies without trial. He died at the tender age of about 26 and no one is sure whether he was really the bad guy or the vigilantes were. Why hasn’t anyone made a movie of this yet?

We climbed one of the hills behind the town to get a bird’s-eye-view, but as soon as we got to the top we were surprised by thunder and so made a hasty retreat. I have a healthy respect for lightening!

This dual-purpose building housed the school on the bottom floor and the masonic lodge upstairs (interesting combo).

It was one of the better preserved buildings in town.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Bannach! Stay tuned for close encounters with a buffalo and car trouble that restored our faith in humanity. In the meantime, have a great weekend!

*Lord Huron “Frozen Pines”

As promised, daughter #2 is here with further updates on her week spent in New York City. We stayed in an Airbnb in SOHO so that I could be close to the conference at NYU, which means our trip was very hip — and very expensive! It’s dangerous when you become inured to $17 cocktails, $6 cold brew coffees, and $100 meals. We had been saving up for this trip for months, and it was subsidized by my conference funding, but woof. Just imagine me in the background of this blog post, whispering, “I know this is indulgent. I know this is indulgent.”

Annnnyway… the GOOD part of spending 7 full days in a hip neighborhood is that we found our favorite neighborhood spot (with a happy hour — praise hands) …

They specialized in negronis!

we could easily walk to other neighborhoods in Lower Manhattan…

A classic view from the High Line

and we could pop in to stores for lots of quick shopping, which was particularly useful when we’d get caught in a torrential downpour. We didn’t do any buying, but the window shopping in New York is informative. Remember when stores like H&M and Urban Outfitters hadn’t even expanded beyond New York? It isn’t quite that extreme anymore, but I do take note of which trends have not yet made it to DC, let alone our flyover hometown. (Nothing good, I promise. Mostly a ubiquity of Golden Goose sneakers, which, for some reason, are purposefully distressed and literally cost $500.)

The highlights of our trip, I’d say, were The Cloisters…and the American Ballet Theatre. I followed the rules and did NOT take photos of the production, so here’s a snapshot DN took of me pre-show.Phew! It was a whirlwind trip, filled with even more sights than I’ve included here. I’m so glad we went for it — and I’m so glad we’re home.

Greetings from sunny Idaho! We’ve had a wonderful time visiting son #2 and his lovely lady here in Hailey and Ketchum.  We relaxed with a hefty brew at Grumpy’s, a local watering hole,

These guys don’t look very grumpy to me!

and visited the press room of the Idaho Mountain Express where our son works.

Things have changed a lot since His Girl Friday…

Yesterday, we ventured to the Craters of the Moon National Monument. What looks as if a giant did a bad plowing job, is actually acres and acres of amazing lava formations.

The three intrepid climbers (sans yours truly) scaled a cinder mountain,

Photo courtesy of Nicole Potter

Funky formations included lava fields littered with caves (here Nicole descends into the netherworld),

scatter cones or miniature volcanoes,

and a cinder field full of strange little monkeyflowers.

Another great photo from Nicole Potter

It was another super blustery day at 7000 ft and the altitude and wind made hiking a challenge, but we had a great time.

Alas, this morning the DH and I have to go on our way 😦 Next stop, a ghost town in Montana. Stay tuned for updates.

When this posts, DN and I will be on our Amtrak headed home! 7 days in Manhattan has been quite the adventure, with ample Melville programming as well as lots of food, drink, and entertainment. For now, a brief Melville review, with further updates to come this week.

The conference itself took place at NYU, in a building that provided nice views of Washington Square Park. Conferencing is always quite stressful for me, despite the fact that I fancy myself an extrovert. This week I had a realization: I only like networking with people I already know. The only person I knew at this conference was my dissertation director, which is a bit like going to a wedding and only knowing the bride. But all things considered, my paper went well and this keeps me active in my field.

As for exploring “Melville’s Manhattan” — it doesn’t exist, per se. We felt approximately close to Melville, either in location or vibe. Staying in SOHO and spending lots of time in Greenwich Village and along the Hudson River, we certainly traversed some of the same streets and docks that Melville would have. But it all feels very hip and new and highrise-y, of course. On the other hand, we did tour a house built in 1824 that had been completely preserved, down to the furniture placement. (The beds had never been moved an inch!) We got a pretty good sense of the nineteenth-century merchant class.

One of the more interesting details (I thought) from this house tour was that the house, which was built by a developer and was thus very “standard,” came with nails in the wall for hanging your art. They were huge, and very high up, and had never been removed! Can you imagine builders doing that now?

A pier along the Hudson River

This house was built around 1800, and is around the corner from where Melville was born — so, an approximation of his birthplace, though this is considered a “mansion” and I don’t think Melville’s birthplace was such.

This corner (in the Bowery area) is near to where Melville moved around age 5. This photo also shows you how wet it was for most of our trip!

Battery Park

Battery Park Promenade

I gather that Melville spent a lot of time in Battery Park throughout his lifetime. It was definitely nice to walk all over the island (and I mean walk – 15 to 20 thousand steps a day for us!) and picture the places Melville would have lived and worked, even if it took some imagination to do so.

“Now rose the city from out the bay, and one by one, her spires pierced the blue; while thick and more thick, ships, brigs, schooners, and sail boats, thronged around….Oh! he who has never been afar, let him once go from home, to know what home is.”
— from Redburn

It’s true — having been afar, we are very happy to be headed home to our quieter corner of the world.