No Time to Breathe

It was a typical office day with patient after patient and no time to breathe or drink a coffee or have a bite (except for peanut butter on a spoon when I am desperate!) My office is in full swing, and everything is running smoothly, or as smoothly as expected.

Maya is happy at school. Daphne picked her up and brought her home after school, for a swim and fun and games with Marius and Belina. I finally finished late, and when I got Maya she was exhausted and ready for bed. I insisted on violin practice although we really don't know what to practice. Auditions are almost over, we have to make a decision about a teacher, and new pieces are coming soon, once we make the choice. So Maya played Bach and tried out her new violins and she fell into bed looking bedraggled and tired.

I am in the habit of going to a late yoga class at 945 to 1100, so once Maya is asleep with Eric next to her (he lies down beside her to help her drift off) I dash out in the dark. Levi is a big black man with a soft voice and he gets me into a good place before I go to bed. Eric is at his new huge screen working when I come in. I shower and fall into bed ready for sleep, and have to urge Eric to join me and leave his screen. More often than not, Maya joins us in the double bed and we squirm around until Eric leaves to sleep on the floor downstairs. He claims he sleeps better there than with the three of us.

Office Politics

The office is expanding, with several new clinicians and expansion and activity. I still have my space and my practice is growing. Sharon is the mover and shaker in the office, and puts lots of energy into her non profit organization. She works very hard, and accomplishes amazing feats on a daily basis.

I see patient after patient, many returning from their family doctors or other psychiatrists and therapists and I feel wanted and needed and appreciated. I try to stay out of all office politics. My former practice has a huge cloud over it. Not only did the secretary embezzle funds, there was medicare fraud and insurance fraud and many illegal activities. I knew nothing about this, but was simply robbed on a regular basis. I am not sure how to rectify it, and would rather keep my head in the sand where it belongs.

I love that as of yet, there are no politics to deal with in the new practice. Ot moves forward, the other practitioners are focussed on their own patients and everyone is independent and no one uses a secretary or a comptroller or a billing person. All is done individually and we are each our own entities, and that appears to be working.

So far, so good at the office. Thankfully.

Shopping for Violins

The day was devoted to violin shopping. Maya has grown out of her half size and we asked Jonathan, the dealer who sold us the last violin, to come by with some choices for us. Since we could use the old violin to 'trade up' to the new one, we could save some money in the process. Jonathan drove up from New York and stayed with his wife's ex boyfriend in the city. We had not heard from Maya's violin teacher for months, after she 'fired' us over a misunderstanding. We learned later that she and her husband were divorcing, so we understood that her life was a bit of a mess.

Jonathan was his usual friendly self, having known Maya since she was just starting lessons. Maya played at his wedding to Elizabeth and he and Maya have always had a special bond. He brought two new Chinese and one 200 year old Italian 3/4 size choices. Daphne came over to listen and offer her opinion. We all liked the sound of the Italian, but the price was double that of the two Chinese ones. Maya played and played, in the dining room, outside on the lawn, in the living room, in the hall, switching from one to the other, from scales to Bach to Mozart to Massanet.

No decisions were made, except that we eliminated one of the Chinese ones. Jonathan offered to have us keep the others for a couple days and give Maya a chance to play some more.

Daphne and the family came by for dinner. I made a peach pie and a sea food chowder, and They brought a big beautiful salad for a wonderful dinner together. Julien was working on a score and showed up better late than never, so we enjoyed our evening with good friends and conversation.

Auditions and Baltimore

Again, I got started too early getting to the airport, perhaps not a bad habit. I suppose that after all the time in South America, I am trained to be everywhere early. I have almost missed too many flights. I had checked online for the 747 bus, which happened to stop just a block away. The alarm went off at 7, I showered and changed in the increasingly smelly coed bathroom, and was ready to go before 8. Tara walked with me in the fresh but sunny morning to wait and say goodbye. I was at Dorval a little after 8, checking in and waiting a little later, and primed after a couple coffees and a muffin. Toronto was inefficient, but again I had plenty of time to sit and wonder. Once again, everything is so efficient and organized, it is almost too good to be true.

It was wonderful to be in Montreal again and wander around rediscovering places with Tara. I loved the years I spent there, and found all my old haunts intact and many new areas to explore. The Ste Catherine Ouest corner of downtown is full of shops, Crescent is still hopping with bars and restaurants and a race car festival closing off the street to cars for the weekend, McGill is bigger and more developed, St Laurent remains funky and has all sorts of intriguing character filled sections, St Denis is wild and energetic and Old Montreal is serene and stately. The port is transformed and I will have to return for a visit. I hope that Tara will find the city just as exciting as I do. She is offended by the French, which is entirely different than French French. It is entirely understandable after you listen some more, but she finds the twang unattractive. She felt that the locals were unfriendly when she spoke English, but perhaps because I am older, they are patient and kind with me.

I look forward to my next visit, which I hope is as soon as possible, perhaps with Maya.

Travel was smooth and easy and when I arrived in Baltimore. Maya and Eric were at Peabody preparing for her audition, so I took the Light Rail to Howard Street and Monument and walked to the music school to meet them for dinner. Maya was full of delightful news about her week, fearful about her audition, but happy to be done for the day. We celebrated with 'Cold Stone Creamery' ice cream (my favourite is 'Coffee Lover's Delight' which is full of almonds and Heath Bar Crunch) and card games on my bed and Bgrade movies on TV. Home again.

Montreal Film Festival

Oh my! Tara wanted to get moving immediately upon waking, and I took too long to be ready and she was irritable and lashed out and I realized my error in staying with her. I found myself in tears and ready to walk out, but pulled myself together and stayed steady and somehow we moved on.

We decided to make today a search for good coffee. I realized too late that the coffee we are looking for does not exist here. It is the same in Paris and in truth anywhere but Italy. My husband and mother are both astonished at my fussiness about coffee. I am always searching and always disappointed that I cannot find the kind of coffee one can encounter anywhere in Italy, from the train station to the autostrada to the bar on the corner etc. The espresso is foamy and wholebodied and easy to drink. I gave up on coffee in Ecuador and accustomed myself to the consistently 'not quite right' taste, and in fact lost my addiction to coffee over the year. I truly believe coffee is optional for me now. The 'Myriad Cafe' close to Tara's apartment was the best so far, the Cafe Depot up the street was horrid, the Nezpresso we tried yesterday afternoon on Crescent Street (lots of machines on sale upstairs after you tasted the coffee downstairs) was not quite right (I only tried a small sip because it was late in the day and I cannot drink coffee past noon if I want to sleep the night) and the Starbucks although consistent is not quite the cappuccino/espresso we yearn for.

So today was coffee tasting day and we prepared ourselves by looking online for the 'best coffee places in Montreal'. Tara compiled a list and we set off. The first choice was close by and 'closed for renovation' (Kafein on Bishop). 'Nocochi' on Mackay had great Middle Eastern desserts and candy and the barista tried to please us but the coffee did not pass. He suggested a Cafe down the street (without a name but next door to where Tara bought her phone) where the cappuccinos we ordered turned out to be lattes and tolerable but too milky for my taste. Our barista was a young girl from Venezuela. There were two places on Crescent (Benelo and Testa Rossa) which we skipped, and headed for Cafe Art and Java on University and President Kennedy, where the coffee had an odd taste, which was replicated at Cafe Veritas on St. Laurent and Notre Dame in Old Montreal (which had a great smoothie I'd come back for). We walked through tiny Chinatown on our way to Old Montreal, which is unchanged (and just as small) as it was 30 years ago.

I was all 'coffeed out' and could not finish the last cappuccino. Of course if it was 'right' it would have been easy, but we had truly not found a good cup of coffee and there are more places to visit before we are done with our search. My suspicion is that the coffee here is simply different than what we are accustomed to in Italy and Tara will have to adjust to the tastes here, or use her little coffee maker at home with her Italian coffee beans and warmed up milk and do it as my grandmother used to at her home in Sterzing/Vipiteno when I was growing up. We will all ahve to fly to Italy for a good cappuccino. Good excuse to fly five thousand miles.

I wanted to spend more time in Old Montreal. The sun was brilliant and the old stones beckoned, and my heart stayed here some time ago, but Tara was ready to move on. She had seen nothing of the Latin quarter, so we walked up St. Denis for miles and miles. She wanted to eat Thai food, but by the time we decided to look for lunch, the kitchens were closed. She shopped in the boutiques along the way, and found a great pot shaped and coloured like a pepper (it looked like a tomato to me) to warm up milk for coffee. St. Denis is a happening place, but I was also interested in the Montreal film festival (which I used to go to regularly when I lived here) so we picked up programs and when we finally stopped to eat at a Middle Eastern restaurant in front of the Odeon Theatre where many of the films were playing, I finally chose some films to see. I had encouraged Tara to join the 'Theatre frosh' event of the evening, the plan being to visit all the theatres on campus (she will audition for roles at the events). I was delighted that it was so easy to go to the ticket booth and purchase billets for two films at 5 and 7. I was thinking of getting a third film for 9, but decided that two was enough. Dinner was exquisite. I will have to try to remember the name of the place (Couscous?) and return for amazing desserts. Montreal is certainly a place for FOOD, there are so many restaurants of all sorts and flavours and styles and atmospheres. So much to explore!

The first film was Czech and a review of the life of a mother and her two daughters from 1967 to 1977. The best part was the presence of the director who presented her first movie at the film festival 20 years ago when she won the best first film feature. The subtitles were in English so I could understand it. The 'Uomo Nero' was in Italian with French subtitles, but I did not have to read them, I was delighted to understand it all. I luxuriated in everything Italian. Tara is struggling being away from Italy, and I feel that way every time I am reminded of Italy. I manage to visit Italy almost every year (not yet in 2010), and my heart stays there, so I understand how she feels. Of course I am afraid at any moment that she will 'bolt' and return to Italy to stay, not that I object entirely, but I do believe she needs to acquire a college education. Of course I am not sure she will be employable after two years of acting and two more years of 'cultural studies' which is watching and critiquing film, but it sounds like a fun education. Perhaps I am envious that she can study such flighty things, but it is easier to stomach when the bill is not $50, 000 a year. I remember working intensely at university, and not having alot of free time, but studying today appears so much more relaxed. Students have big chunks of time free to play and study and relax. When I was in school it was 8 to 5 classes with a break for lunch and studying in the evening and weekends. It was intense.

The movies and the atmosphere at the cinema were 'electric, but when I walked out of the theatre, St Denis was packed with revelers and I did not want to leave. Tara had done her theatre frosh event and was communing with her residence mates, so I walked the length of St. Catherine, passing a huge outdoor screen presenting 'The Shining' which is still too scary for me to watch. I felt entirely safe walking the distance to Tara's place, where she met me to let me in and then joined her mates. I was glad that she was being social and making connections in this new place. I am crossing my fingers that she will find her 'niche' and feel at home here. It is too painful to always wish to be elsewhere. I have experienced that many times in my life and it keeps me from appreciating the place I am in. I have always wanted to live in Italy, but I have not, and I try to be happy where I am, but I am not always good at that. I understand Tara and her feelings, but I hope that Montreal will turn out to be wonderful for her. I imagined her presenting her first feature film at the World Film Festival and feeling good about her time here.

I Love Montreal

Tara slept at my hotel last night, but was up early this morning with a list of things to do. She left unshowered and I took my time getting ready. I had not booked a room after two nights, thinking I would join Tara in her place. I felt disconnected from her and thought we would be closer if I stayed with her, knowing I could always find another place if necessary. I did not realize that I was being presumptuous or naive or incurably optimistic.

I packed my bags and checked out and chose to walk up the hill to her place. My bag has rollers and I had little in it, but the walk was long and arduous, perhaps because my feet were still tender and the sandals I opted to wear had a heel and were not a good choice. I walked almost all the way and then collapsed at a Starbucks near her place. She was agitated that I was taking so long and met me at the place. After dropping off the bag, we tried another coffee place near her apartment called 'Cafe Depot' where the cappuccino was absolutely undrinkable. There was a cellphone office nearby where she decided on a cellphone plan and purchased her cellphone, a great relief for her. One more check off her list.

We were late for her appointment at the Biology building to discuss her psychology minor. We could not find the building (I realized only too late where it was) and gave up. She was particularly irritable at that point, so I did my best to keep quiet and not complain about my miserable feet. She suggested we trade shoes and I took her flipflops and she looked very sophisticated in my sandals. We headed back to the passport office (kilometers away) and applied for her passport. I am impressed at how organized and efficient everything is here, so different from Ecuador and far better than any government office in the US too. I was relieved that Tara is taking care of these very basic things that seemed too much for her when I had talked to her over the phone. It seems that so much energy goes into the decisions about cellphones, getting a SIN and passport, choosing a bank (still to be done) etc. I guess my job here is to ensure that these tasks are taken care of.

We both had a yen for a burger and rushed to eat at O'burger on University, where we had seen a big crowd gather at noon on our way to the passport office. There were no queues when we arrived, and we both scarfed down our six ounce Angus beef burgers with gusto. It began to rain cats and dogs at the end of our meal, so we scurried inside to avoid the downpour. Tara had a meeting to discuss transfer credits at 2:00, so she left me, and after more wandering through the myriad of shops in every direction, I decided to visit the Museum of Fine Arts on Sherbrooke. It has grown since I lived here, and I remember being stuck at the north side last time with Maya, so I focussed on the more modern section on the other side of Sherbrooke this time, with a Napoleon wing and paintings from the Middle Ages to the 19th Century. There was a 'Miles Davis' exhibit too, which was $15 to enter, so I passed on it. Tara called to join me a few hours later and she ended up on the north side confused about where I was and how to get to the fourth floor which did not exist in the building she was in I finally had to leave the exhibit and exit the building to find her and drag her back to the section I was in. The museum closed at 5, but there was a 'frosh' event at 6, which I encouraged her to participate in. Somehow we missed the group of students, and Tara needed another coffee. We tried 'Nezpresso' , which is partly cafe and partly a store for 'nezpresso' machines, but the coffee did not pass the taste test. Tara wanted to pursue some 'retail therapy', so I tagged along behind her. We bought her first groceries at the Greek place near her apartment, and snacked on hummus and pita bread and nutella for dinner.

It may have been an error to stay with her. It was tight and Tara slept on a mattress on the floor. I was comfortable and slept well, but the room is meant for one, not two, and I had invaded her space.

August 25 Exploring Montreal

I was tired and spent after all the emotion of the day before and slept soundly until 8. Tara and I had agreed to meet at the front of the Arts building at 10. I arrived a little early and did not recognize her as she walked up the hill a few minutes late. She is bigger, taller, older, and her hair is dyed darker than the bleached blonde look of the past year, and she feels unfamiliar and not quite familiar. I had no agenda for the day, and planned to devote my time to her and her needs. She had a list of things to attend to. For one thing, making a decision about her apartment was crucial. She had chosen it sight unseen from Italy and had made all the arrangements from afar. It is more expensive than other options, but her father and I are not complaining about expenses, because the year will be so affordable anyway. The place is small but a convenient location near Concordia University and ten minutes from McGill. She changed immediately from the first place assigned to her, to a room a few doors down with more light. Bathrooms are shared and there is a large common room and kitchen where the 19 students from several different programs get together and commune. The attractive part is the expectation of social connections; Tara does not want to be isolated and alone.

We decided to look for good coffee near her place. After a year in Italy, that would prove to be a challenge. There are several coffee places nearby. I had already tried Starbucks in several locations, and the cappucino there is palatable but not Italian, so we had our breakfast at Cafe Myriad up the street and it was okay but not quite perfect. She liked her vegan muffin and my carrot muffin was yummy. Next on the agenda was a decision about a cellphone. There had been two booths on campus competing for her attention. She did not want to commit to a two or three year contract, so that limited her options. We spent a considerable amount of time visiting every cellphone kiosk around. There are malls on every street here, designed for the long cold winters when everyone stays underground, so shops and restaurants and food courts and cafes are plenty. I wandered after Tara and her list of wishes. Decisions, decisions.

I had developed horrendous blisters yesterday wearing new clogs that were not broken in (silly me). Tara convinced me to pop the blisters last night (disgusting with tweezers as my only tool), and I changed my shoes this morning, but walking was painful nevertheless. I noticed that I complained too much, and sounded like an old woman, which I suppose I am, (but I do not feel that way inside). I sounded so much like my mother. I walked long distances anyway, and that aggravated my agonized feet.

We had visited the tuition payment office yesterday, where we learned that Tara not only would be eligible for in-Canada tuition ( I brought her Canadian citizenship card), but moving to Quebec for her first Canadian residence may make her eligible for in-provingce tuition rates. Of course, Johns Hopkins will likely pay for her tuition anyway, so all of this was good news. We walked the miles down Rene Levesque Boulevard (new name for an old street, I cannot remember what it was called before) to the government office where she was able to apply for a social insurance number and get her application for a passport. The offices were cool and neat and organized and inviting, so astonishingly different from Ecuador or Italy or even the United States, which is far more chaotic than I imagined and gets more chaotic with time.

Our next destination was Little Italy, which we had failed to reach yesterday. We took the metro this time, which was easy and direct (but costly at $2.75 a trip), and arrived in a very small version of Italy which appeared to be a disappointment to Tara. The grocery store was amazing however, with every possible product from all over Italy. She bought a coffee maker and coffee and olive oil and balsamic vinegar and some cantuccini and a small panettone. We found a place to eat, where it was too cold to sit on the sidewalk, and shared a wonderful foccacia/pizza with fresh tomatoes, basil, and parmesan, so very delicious. Montreal is known for great food, and our gourmet experiences have attested to that. The coffee was not quite right. I could not resist a gelato of nocciola and pistaccio, and was surprised that Tara did not indulge too.

Our walk back down St Laurent was not as long as the walk up yesterday. We passed our Indian restaurant and then turned toward Mont Royal park, where bikers and strollers and ballplayers were out and about. Near the McGill stadium we saw dozens of frosh making noise and I urged Tara to join, but she demurred. The new students are all over town making noise and drinking and carousing, and Tara although a new student here is not a first year, so she is not participating.

Decisions about cellphones continued to be a theme. We stopped at the dollar store and Tara chose all sorts of items to decorate her apartment. Shopping is king here in downtown Montreal, and there are sales everywhere. Tara likes to shop ('retail therapy') and the possibilities are endless.

Back in Montreal

I fell asleep at 1:30 in the morning and was woken up by my alarm at 3:30. I was packed and ready to go in minutes, and Eric carried Maya to the car cuddled in her blanket. I placed her head in my lap and stayed close to her as we drove through the dark and quiet streets to the airport. It was far too early (why do they tell you to show up two hours or more before a flight?), so while I waited for someone to man the Air Canada counter, I traded stories with another couple in line and we moved on to discuss the sorry state of public education in Maryland. There was another long wait at security, where employees gradually arrived over the next hour. There were several sleeping passengers on the couches near security, otherwise the place was dead. When finally through security, there was more waiting to board the plane. I wondered if we could have arrived fully two hours later and still make the flight. The plane was small and a little shaky. I was unconscious until Toronto, where the new airport design was no better than the former one, and interminable walks to immigration and customs and baggage claim took agonizingly long. I was relieved to finally get on the short trip to Montreal, where I found the shuttle bus for $7 for the half hour ride to central Montreal and arrived near the hotel in less than an hour. The hotel was one of those cement behemoths with 771 rooms, with jaded decor and impersonal rooms, but comfortable beds and bedding and the right price on Hotwire. My view was out to more concrete buildings behind. It was sunny and warm and the city was welcoming and energetic and I felt happy to be here.

After settling in, I packed up gifts for Tara and headed to our meeting place on McGill campus. I was apprehensive because I had not seen her for almost a year and had had limited contact with her (an attempt to give her 'space') and our interactions are not consistently pleasant. I wanted a positive interaction and wanted to be sure not to say anything that would get me into trouble. I took my time walking slowly up University and through the gates of the university. I was surprised to discover that my hotel was a straight shot to the site, and although all the way uphill, was relieved that I was relatively close to Tara's place.

I saw her at a booth shopping for cellphone plans, and although immediately recognizable, was surprised that her hair was brown and that she had tattoos that I had not seen before. I am not thrilled about tattoos and hers were primitively designed and executed, and so I did my best to say as little as I could. Our time together was a whirlwind of visits to various offices on campus to get her student ID and other tasks accomplished and then to a street fair introducing students to clubs and activities. I encouraged her to sign up for as many clubs as possible, and she was most excited about the theatre series at one of the student theatres. We checked out her residence near Concordia university (a small space with futon, desk, small kitchen area and desk, balcony, public kitchen and lounge area) and exchanged gifts and then walked up Ste Catherine s to Saint Laurent. Two policemen stopped us for jaywalking and told us next time we would get tickets. Our destination was Little Italy for groceries and cappucino. We did not realize how far it was to walk there. We passed the Museum for contemporary Art and the Symphony Hall before turning up left up St. Laurent. I discovered that the Montreal World Film Festival would start on Friday. I once attended the festival religiously, sometimes seeing eight films a day, so I was determined to check it out again. Tara is studying film, so I thought she would be equally excited about the event.

Tara wanted to have a taste of La Bella Italia, and we walked and walked along St Laurent admiring the restaurants and galleries on the way, hoping to arrive at 'St. Zotique', finally giving up on Little Italy and trying Indian food instead. Our choice was the right one, because we were both exhausted, Tara still recovering from jetlag, and my feet protesting another step. The chicken tikka masala, mango lassi and naan were delicious, but the best dish was with paneer but I do not remember the name. I will have to return to check out what we ordered.

It was getting dark as we walked rather easily back downtown, perhaps because there was a slight downhill trend. I found myself caught in a heated argument, trying to stay steady but hurt and angry all the same, but we held ourselves together as we conducted a conversation of painful subjects on our way home, threatening to destroy our time together. She feels that I abandoned her as a teenager. I tried to explain that I tried to stay out of ugly arguments for years as a way to protect both her and myself and Eric and Maya. Last year I was determined to give her the space she needs to grow up and mature and did not interfere with her decisions and her life. During the exchange I promised myself I would not say anything hurtful, but I did. I wish I knew how to control myself, but in fact keeping cool and unruffled is what hurts Tara the most. I am not sure how we let go of the disagreement, or how each of us calmed down, but there were tears and pain and then we walked down University to my hotel near the river. I expected her to stay for the night, but she walked back with the sheets and towels and pillow I brought for her and spent the night in her apartment. I was exhausted and fell asleep in silence and melted into the sheets for the night, unconscious.

Working for a Day

Rafting down the Yough

Frank Lloyd Wright

Fallingwater, Kentuck Knob

Moving Along

Tuesday is Fine

Korean for Dinner

I am not sure if I have ever eaten Korean before, but I was surprised at how comforting the food was. It was not too spicy, the children ate enthusiastically, and all the other patrons at the restaurant were Korean. Maya and her friend Shin Shin with her parents Christy (Chinese) and Andrea (Sardinian) and brother Antonio, Belina and Marius and Daphne (we took care of the children while she drove to a shower party in Philadelphia but turned back when the traffic was impossible to manage) and Eric and I joined for dinner at 20th and Charles street. I learned that this corner was the Korean section of town, and I could not read the signs in front of the businesses, I simply knew that this was the place to meet.

I liked all the appetizers, with interesting tastes and textures, including the root of lotus flowers and transparent noodles and dumplings of all kinds, steamed and grilled, fried and in soup, vegetarian and beef and seafood. Eric had a seafood pancake which was the best of the dishes.

Maya visited with Shin Shin for the afternoon, after spending the earlier part of the day with Belina and Marius. She is still in social mode, making contact with the friends she missed last year. I had breakfast with Emily before taking her to her train to New York. We ate at Miss Shirley's, Tara's favourite place for brunch, but it was so loud inside, we chose to sit outside under an umbrella in the pouring rain. It was good to catch up with Emily.

Eric and I are not doing much with the house, we are waiting for the roof to be done, and it does not seem right to move furniture in before the basement is cleaned out and the walls throughout the house are painted. I am ignoring the house, we still live with two beds and a table and chairs and nothing else and that seems to be enough. We are camping in our house for now, and no one is complaining. I wonder if we will just stay this way for now....

It was thus a lazy Sunday, wiht brunch, the New York Times crossword puzzle, yoga, dinner and True Blood for dessert. Back to the office tomorrow, and to fencing camp for Maya for the week.

Eat Pray Love

Moving Along

I am fine as long as I am moving. Getting up and showered, encouraging Maya to get dressed and helping her with breakfast and her hair and driving her to Starbucks for coffee and to Peabody for ballet camp, picking up her papers from the doctor's office (to be delivered to her new school so she can register), finally visiting my old office to pick up charts and catch up with Michelle, my former receptionist, meeting the new receptionist and calling Eric to help move charts to my new office, picking Maya up and deciding to drive to DC to visit the Air and Space Museum.

It was raining and miserable when making our decision about DC and Maya was not particularly enthusiastic about going. The original plan was to bring Belina and Marius with us and go by train, but the Benichous changed their plans, so the idea was less attractive to Maya. I was uncertain about driving because of the intense traffic on Friday nights, but in the end we decided to go for it. Maya read her book to me and time passed rapidly, and we were on the mall in no time. Parking was a challenge, but we found a metered spot and scrambling to put in as many quarters and dimes and nickels as possible. We headed for the National Gallery for gelato to start and then over to the Air and Space Museum, where we were entertained for the next few hours. We learned about flight and planets and the Apollo missions to the moon, visited the planetarium to hear Whoopi Goldberg tell us about the origins of our galaxy, and saw an Imax show about the Hubble telescope. Eric took the train down to join us for the latter part of our afternoon, and for dinner at Delhi Dhaba in Arlington, one of Tara's favourite Indian take-out restaurants (her Dad had introduced her and us to the place).

Driving home was easier than expected. It turned out to be a wonderful day, (it did not rain!), we saw exciting things, we learned new things. I am always fascinated by the moon landings, and fearful about the endlessness of space. Most of the time when in DC I visit the art museums and the Natural History Museum, so it was new and different this time. Maya was interested in everything she saw and expressed interest in being an astronaut.

I think I am fine if I keep moving and avoid thinking of where I am in the universe.

Settling In

Yoga, violin, the Science Centre with Belina and Marius, and Noah and Susie and Jenna and Jonah over for dinner.

Feeling Better

A new day, with a commitment to try to make it a better day, and it was. Maya brightened up the morning, I had my car washed and my nails done and patients came to see me and they were warm and welcoming and I felt valued. Maya came to the office after ballet and played and worked and once again made each break a delight and the day passed without despair. I had a dinner with colleagues to network and although I felt apart from the crowd, I felt invited and clearly efforts were made to encourage me to be a part of the whole.

So perhaps all will settle and I will stop wanting to bolt and stop wishing I was anywhere but where I am in my life.

Despair

I truly do not want to be here. I feel burdened and weighted down and I want to run. I realize that I have wanted to run for a long time, and planning for Ecuador and moving away for a year was a way to avoid the reality of my life here.

I met with a former colleague for breakfast at Miss Shirley's, which reminded me of the struggles I had at my former office. The secretary was guilty of embezzlement, which explains why I argued with her all the time. Unfortunately I did not save my records. I presumed she was incompetent, and finally gave up and left the office and started on my own. Now I have learned that the secretary stole tens of thousands of dollars and that may explain why my accounts were so disappointing. I am told by the administrator that nothing was stolen from me, and I have no way to find out the truth. Eric tells me to let it go, but I am unable to. I feel disappointed and cheated.

The renters left three months early and did not pay rent for those months. The house needs so much work and we have no money to fix what needs to be fixed. We are so far behind financially, and I need to work intensively to pay for the repairs. The psychiatrist who cared for my practice saw patients every three months, so there are almost no patients this week and it will take months to get the practice moving, and I have no interest or desire to be working anyway.

I feel trapped. I do not want to be here!!!!! What do I want? Where do I want to be? What do I want to be, do, see, where, how, why, what?

No Patients

In my normal life, I have patients from 9 to 5 without a break for lunch or coffee, and I am intense and preoccupied and overwhelmed. I guess I ought to enjoy this moment of repose, but instead I am anxious and agitated that I have one patient a day this week. I forced myself to call almost everyone I had been seeing regularly before I left to inform them that I was back and available for appointments. I left messages and heard from a handful and scheduled a few during the next few weeks. When I closed my practice a year ago, I referred most of my patients to a nurse practitioner at my old office. I had signed a physician collaborator agreement with her and she was supposed to pay me a percentage of her earnings, but she reneged on the agreement and does not appear to want to refer back my patients. On the other hand they are not my patients anymore, so I cannot demand them back.

I have no doubt I will be busy in a month or so, but for today I spent the early morning with Eric going through the cricket infested garage at Daphne's house to find my prescription pads and patient information. I saw my first and only patient, and then met Sharon at Seven West for a Greek Salad. My afternoon was devoted to organizing the office.

We had invited Daphne and Julien and Belina and Marius to the house for dinner. Maya, after her ballet class and violin practice spend the afternoon with Belina. I cooked a zucchini soup and spaghetti with Italian sausage sauce and an amazing blueberry cobbler. It felt good to have the house full of people.

We sent Elmer home with the Benichous. I am allergic to him and my eyes are itchy and painful and it may be that I cannot live with him. Eric does not want the dog and Daphne does not want him, so there is some concern about what is best for him and for us.

I took a late yoga class and found Eric and Maya asleep on her futon when I got home. I am a little energized and wonder if I will be able to sleep.

Washington DC

Eric's plane was arriving at Dulles in the early evening, so Maya and I drove to Washington for the day. Maya wanted to see the White House so we parked nearby and walked past the Washington Monument, but she decided to walk further to the Museum of Natural History. We had fun at the 'Human Origins' exhibit, making decisions about running a country. I found myself making choices to help the environment and the people at the expense of the economy. The decisions were all difficult.

I am at home in the National Gallery. Maya and I like to have lunch in the basement under the IMPei pyramids and then to spend time in the East Wing first and then wander over to the West. We went to Munch exhibit and a collection of photos by Allen Ginsburg, and found ourselves in the midst of a wonderful impressionist exhibit. We took the museum 'highlights' tour and revisited some early Byzantine and later Renaissance paintings.

I was amazed that Maya's interest held for the afternoon. We found ourselves rushing along the mall back to the car to get to Dulles on time. I was worried about finding my way, because my GPS is not working well. It turned out to be exceedingly easy and we arrived early for Eric. His plane had come in even earlier so we were soon reacquainted with a tired traveller laden with gifts and he slept most of the hour and a half drive home.

Harborplace

I dragged Maya to yoga class this morning. She had no desire to go, and I woke up late anyway, and had to rush her to get her dressed and ready. She continued to resist until she was on her mat, being amazing and able to do all sorts of moves I only dream of. She and Sid adore each other and were delighted to reconnect. I am inspired by Maya, she is so centred and peaceful and agile and her goodness just shines all the time.

We headed for the Inner Harbour, where we visited Barnes and Noble for a time, and wandered along the docks, stopping to watch an acrobat performing. She was a tiny young woman, with a pipsqueak kind of voice, and did Cirque de Soleil moves on a makeshift frame and elicited all sorts of oohs and aahs from the appreciative crowd.

Maya insisted that we visit the Science Center, where I agreed to join for a year, and Maya made a beeline for the dinosaurs and 'Newton's Alley', before we watched an Imax movie about the Grand Canyon, which made me wish I could return to Utah and the red rocks of Moab and the Rapheal Swell.

There was a new 'Rita's' nearby, so we stayed in line for too long to find out that all the flavours we wanted were not available, so we chose alternative ones, which were not at all satisfying, but we both ate them anyway, as we walked back to Little Italy where I had parked my car in a three hour parking zone (I moved my car once already that afternoon). I wanted to move the car again and return for an evening concert, but Maya was ready to go home and practice violin before bed. I never want to go home, and would stay away all the time if I could.

Yoga, harbour, science center, grand canyon

Beatlemania

Today was a day devoted to music. Maya had a concert to celebrate the end of the chamber camp week, with performances by each of the chamber groups, as well as the Junior and Senior orchestras. The children did well, having learned alot this past week, and being remarkable musicians anyway. Maya insisted on staying for the entire concert so she could eat the brownies I made first thing this morning. Most of the snacks brought by parents were bought in the store, so the brownies were special, and Maya did not want to miss them.

We then went to 'Belvedere Square' for dinner and a Beatles tribute band. For Maya the Beatles have little significance, except that she had heard the song 'Revolution' before. The fans were noticeably older than the usual crowd, and children and grey haired folks were dancing in front of the band. It was fun and nostalgic and perhaps Maya learned something about a very different sort of music. We came home and looked for Beatles tunes on Youtube.

I did not work today. I have no patients next week and do not have the chutzpah to call all my past clients up to suggest appointments. I will just wait until they come to me, I will not solicit anyone. They may not need me, or may not want to see me or change psychiatrists, so I feel odd to 'cold call' them and suggest contact.

I took a marvelous yoga class and met Sid for sushi and discussed a yoga trip to the jungle. I thought of going back to school and choosing another career, not entirely out of medicine, but something in a parallel universe. However I must work to catch up with bills from last year, and working is a necessity not a choice, so any crazy ideas about returning to university and working for the WHO or UNHCR is fantasy. I bought a lottery ticket just in case I can create more choices for myself. More fantasies.

Lobsterama

Maya was desperate for lobster when we were in Cape Cod and somehow it never happened. So we went to 'Lobster Night' at Gertrude's at the BMA where I ordered salad for myself and watched Maya devour an entire pink creature including the bits of meat in the legs, as well as a baked potato and corn on the cob. She wanted a second lobster, but I thought one was enough. When we got home she had mint chocolate chip ice cream. This must be a growth spurt.

We wandered through the sculpture garden until huge raindrops began to fall, so we ran to the car before we got too wet. It never really rained, not like yesterday when I was driving from Perry Hall and the rain fell in sheets, so intense I could not see, and there were massive puddles in the roads. Lightning was flashing and I got lost when I ignored my GPS (how did we manage before GPS?). Today we arrived home without difficulty and reviewed Spanish for a bit before bed, Maya being far more enthusiastic than I find myself. I believe I have forgotten all my Spanish by now, but expect to be able to get back to it quickly once back in Ecuador.

I had no patients today, so I tried to relax a bit, clean house, visit Sid, shop for candles to make the house smell better ( and bought all sorts of things I don't need of course) and get to the office to get organized and plan for a busier time, which will happen again I am sure. Maya was thrilled with her camp and in a far better mood than when I had left her in the morning. I had upset her when we discussed my daughter Tara, who has had very little to do with the family for some time; I did not realize how much Maya missed her sister.

Getting Comfortable

I am feeling at ease at the office. I am overwhelmed with paperwork, so I have to figure out a system that will flow for me, but I know that takes time and this is just my third day. I am a little freaked out because I have no patients booked next week, but I reassure myself that they will come back and in time, I will have exactly as many patients as I need.

I am distressed about my former office and trying to decide what to do. Shall I visit the police and ask questions there? Do I go to the former administrator and ask questions knowing that he will lie to me and perhaps he knows about or was part of the embezzlement scheme. The whole business is uncomfortable and distasteful, but I wonder why the former secretary is not in jail or paying restitution. Do I burden myself with this or do I start at a new beginning and leave this ugliness behind?

I am listening to salsa music and missing our lives in Ecuador. I miss Spanish and the blue skies and the mountains and the jungle and the energy and our tightknit lives there. But I like to see the familiar faces of our lives here and our friends and Sid my yoga instructor. And smoothies and espresso macchiato at Starbucks.

Maya is happy being home and being close to her friends. She is loving her chamber camp and had a session with Jake tonight, getting ready for auditions and concerts. We had to drive all the way to Rina's house in Perry Hall an hour away to pick up prescriptions for patients, since I have been unable to enter the cricket infested garage where my supplies are. It is a little surreal being back at the office so unprepared, but in truth my work is about relationships and everything else is secondary.

In Synch

It was a surprise that it felt so natural to be back in the office and taking care of patients, almost as if I had never left. The year passed quickly and little has changed in the lives of my patients, who come in and start where they left off a year ago. It is reassuring and I feel that all will go well in the practice. What is difficult is that I do not want to work at all. There is too much to do and see and learn and be out there in the world and I feel that I am missing it. I have worked all my life, since I was 13 or so with few breaks. Perhaps it is time to move in another direction, and Ecuador gave me that opportunity, gave me a chance to explore an alternative life, which suited me well and I relaxed and enjoyed myself and wanted more. Being home is truly getting back to the treadmill.

I am certainly questioning the choices I made in my life. My mother and sisters elected lives at home caring for men and families and they have chosen very comfortable lives. I pursued a profession that is truly a vocation, worked hard in school and for years afterward and until last year was unable to 'pause and smell the roses', but now that I have, I realize all that I have missed, and I want to spend more time appreciating my life. Unfortunately, to survive our lives here, I have to devote my energies to my work. So be it.

I wish I enjoyed my home, but it is a bit of a nightmare now, and not welcoming or enjoyable. I cannot fathom staying in the house all weekend and am trying to plan a couple of days away. Both Maya's friends and mine are out of town, and being here alone is not viable, except that we have Elmer and have to take care of him, (I almost forgot). I feel safer with him in the house, but he is solitary all day and misses us. But we may have to go SOMEWHERE for life to be tolerable. I truly spent all my time when living in Baltimore trying to get away, and succeeded most of the time, and I suppose I will get back to that habit again, much to the dismay of my husband who prefers to stay home. Back to my old life.

OOPS

I had dropped Maya off at 'Chamber Camp' and was pulling into the parking lot at Starbucks for my doppio espresso machiatto when I realized that I had no prescription pads. I should have forced my way through the cave crickets and found my box with all things related to the office. Not only do I not have the forms I need for patients, I also cannot write prescriptions. The Benichous are away for a week, so there is no way to enter their garage, and I am stuck. Oops.

Once I got to the office, none of my keys would open the door. Somehow they did work on Saturday, but do not work today. I am confused. I called Sharon and left a message in the hopes that she will come here and let me in before my patient arrives. How frustrating. No prescription pads and no forms for patients to fill out and no office on my first day! I guess I have been less than eager to return!

A construction worker came and opened the door for me. Sharon is remodelling, so everything in the office is in disarray. Despite my initial struggles, I was able to see patients and it felt good to reconnect with people I had known intimately but had not seen in a year and the day ended with a feeling of satisfaction. Maya loved her day at camp so we were both in a good mood. Sarah came by with Sandi to leave her pet fish with us while they are in Puerto Rico, and after a quick dinner, Maya and I sweated and ooohmed at a yoga class and felt relaxed and revived when we got home and went straight to bed.

New Life

My new old life begins tomorrow. I think I am prepared. I am easing into it slowly. My day starts easily and goes a little longer than expected, but Tuesday is light and Wednesday a little busier. I am lucky to have any patients at all. I gave most of them away to Teri, a nurse practitioner at the Resource Group. The plan was for her to pay a fee for me being her physician collaborator, but she decided not to pay the percentage agreed on. I do not begrudge her; she was just starting her practice and was lucky that I was leaving. The psychiatrist who cared for my patients at my new office was not too interested in maintaining the practice so did not see any of my patients regularly. I will have to start anew and build gradually.

So I will put on my alarm and wake up early and get Maya going. She has music camp all week from 9 to 5, so she works harder than I do!

I am addicted to my yoga class and being in the moment. I picked Maya up from Ava's house and brought her and her friend Sarah to the dog park with Elmer and tried to get Elmer to move and work off some weight. Once he stopped moving, we cooled off at the house and the girls danced all afternoon.

I am missing my family. I love little Maya but she has been out constantly, perhaps I must get used to that. Eric has been gone for weeks, and even in Woods Hole he was preoccupied and absent...I wonder if that is what our lives will be like once back on track.