In the Desert

I almost missed my flight. I fell asleep too late, perhaps around 1:30, then woke up at 4 and was out the door by 4:20. I could not find my keys, but they were in one of my bags, since the car did start. I made good time and got to the garage by 4:50. There was a problem with the bus, so it took too long to get to the terminal. The American Airlines queue was long and not moving, so I went outside to use a skycab, and chose to pay the $25 for checking a bag, which made it easier to get through security and to my gate, where the plane was almost completely boarded. I sat in a very tight seat beside a larger than normal man, and was surprised that I slept at all.

The sun was rising over Chicago as we landed, and the airport was relatively civilized. I was able to call Eric and Maya and wish them good morning; they were waiting for the school doors to open. I finished my Spanish homework on the way to Phoenix. The view from the plane was lovely, the sun shining fiercely and mountains everywhere.

Phoenix was already hot at 10 AM. I had never seen so many golfbags, clearly Phoenix is a golf destination. I took the shuttle to the Firesky Resort, a peaceful oasis with birds and flowers and pools and all sorts of conferences going. I found Sharon eating breakfast and she joined me for lunch. We both booked a massage, a bizarre combination of water jets while being massaged, which left me loose and relaxed. It is interesting that both Sharon and Renee are so devoted to body treatments; two weekends in a row at the spa is a record!

I dragged myself to the meeting and the reception afterward, to grab enough hors d'oeuvres for a tapas like dinner, meet and greet as many recognizable faces as possible (many had been at my home over the years) and find my way to my king size bed (Sharon and I were supposed to get a double, but are sharing the bed for tonight). There is a huge party in front of my room next to the pool, with a DJ and socializing people, probably an activity for another conference group, so sleep does not seem possible for now. It is almost 11 East Coast time, and I am ready for bed.

Phoenix

Back in the Bubble

Never Fly Through Toronto

I enjoyed my last night in my giant bed and down comforter, and was delighted to be woken up by rays of sunshine peeking through the curtains. These past four days have been so very sunny! The hotel is very pleasant, and I enjoyed my cappuccinos and croissants and fruit salad in the lobby. I decided to walk in the fresh air, at least for a bit, and when I could no longer tolerate the cold wind, I hailed a cab, the driver of which was horribly disappointed that I did not ask to go to the airport. I was wheeling my suitcase over the cobblestones and I imagine I looked as if I was a potentially better fare.

Tara called while I was walking and I suggested we meet at the Art Museum. She was not there when I arrived, and after waiting longer than I ought, I decided to visit the 'Terracotta Warrior' exhibit. Tara arrived later and did not want to see the exhibit, so I met her briefly at her favourite cafe (Myriade) on Mackay near her residence. Our discussion was not satisfying, but it was good to see her for a few minutes.

I convinced her to walk me to the 747 bus, where we had little time to say goodbye. I was disappointed that she did not want to accompany me to the airport, there never seems to be enough quality time for us.

Toronto airport is a nightmare. The immigration holding area is packed to the gills with passengers. We are all reassured that we will make it to our flight, but when we get through the line and then through security, my flight is long gone, and I am lucky to get on the last plane to Baltimore late in the evening. I am also relieved to encounter free internet and am able to skype my parents and talk to Eric and Maya and catch up on my reading (I am reading the same book on my iphone and my kindle and that somehow seems so remarkable).

More Pain

Renee had arranged a spa morning and picked me up early. Tara decided last minute to join us, and showed up at breakfast at the hotel. We drove across the Champlain bridge to Brossard, to a huge outdoor shopping complex. I was not sure how Montrealers feel about shopping outside in minus 40 degree weather. I was glad to be inside having a massage and a steam bath and a sauna and a hot tub. We met Maurice for lunch at a Quebecois restaurant, but Tara insisted on returning to McGill to see a colleague's play, so Renee drove her back and they both missed lunch. Maurice and I took our time, and talked about Eric and his work and drove back across the St Lawrence later. It was a another gorgeous sunny bluesky day, but cold again.

I met Tara for high tea at 'Le Maitre Chocolatier' on Sherbrooke. I had bought a 'Livingsocial' coupon for two servings of high tea. Somehow we found ourselves in another unpleasant discussion, and I needed a few hours to recover before I backtracked to the theatre to see her play. She did a great job of directing and I was impressed. She was off to celebrate with her friends, so after congratulating her, I walked very quickly in the cold and wind to my cozy hotel room, CNN and Saturday Night Live.

I feel so sad about my relationship with Tara, and I have no idea how to repair it, so I can only hope that perhaps one day, we will be closer and more connected.

Visiting my Daughter

Visiting Montreal is always a treat. I found a lovely hotel in the old town near the water. I read a review in the New York Times some months ago, but the 'Le Petit Hotel' was full each time I came to visit, until this time. There are only 24 rooms with big king size beds, funky furniture, a delicious breakfast each morning, and it is close to many wonderful restaurants, bars, galleries and 16th century buildings. It takes about 25 minutes to walk to McGill, mostly uphill in the freezing cold, but I enjoy the walk. I took a taxi last night, because I had my suitcase, and I really was not sure of my way, but after meeting Tara for breakfast, I took my time strolling through the old town snapping a few photos of the art deco buildings against the stark blue of the sky.

Tara visited me for breakfast at 'Le Petit Hotel' and we caught up after several months of separate lives. We walked through Old Montreal, but Tara had an appointment to get to and rushed off, while I took my time strolling along the cobblestone streets and up to the main shopping street, Ste Catherine. Renee picked me up on de Maisonneuve and McGill and drove us to 'Il Cortile' for Italian food which was not as good as expected. Somehow Italian food anywhere but in Italy doesn't taste quite right.

I thought that Tara's play was on tonight, but in fact there are thirteen plays by different directors over two weeks, and she had the night off. She suggested we go to the ballet and I admired her persistence in waiting at the entrance to the theatre at Place des Arts until the last moment for returns and we got tickets to the very last row of seats in the theatre. The Grands Ballets Canadiens are amazing, and the first dance was accompanied by the 'Four Seasons' by Vivaldi, the second by four women singing Neapolitan songs -- the effect was impressive and the dancing shocking; a combination of modern and ballet. There was a certain violence in the movements, and of course it appeared as if the dance was about the relationship between men and women, tender and violent.

I should have headed home after a good evening and a good day, but Tara wanted chocolate at 'Juliette et Chocolat', and I was remembering the amazing Italian chocolate that Maya and I had skiing, so I agreed to walk through the cold and the wind, to St Denis where we stood in line outside for over a half hour until we got a table and ordered chocolate delights. Unfortunately our conversation devolved into unpleasantness. I never know how to respond to Tara's perception of her life and my role in it and I end up defending myself and getting into worse and worse trouble. This was the sort of conversation I do my best to avoid and I wonder why I keep walking into the same script over and over again.

I arrived at my hotel frozen and agitated and could not sleep for hours.

Sunshine

It was so remarkably sunny when I got off the plane in Toronto. I flew in a small 20 seater from Baltimore, so we had to walk outside, down the stairs and across the tarmac to the terminal. I was not expecting to wear sunglasses, and closed my eyes to manage the brightness. I realize how grey and dreary it has been in Baltimore these past few days, with water pouring out of the sky and into my basement. We had been waiting for the roofers to come by and fix a gutter and some roof tiles. In the meantime, my basement is a mess. It feels good to be far away from my basement.

I felt I could breathe in the brightness, and felt relieved to be back in Canada. I found myself speaking differently, more like a Canadian, I could feel the lilt in my voice. I liked that immigration was easy and no one interrogated me. Of course I absolutely detest the airport, the worst airport in the entire world, where one is required to walk and walk and walk through miles of hallways cut off from the real world behind glass walls. I was so worried I would miss my flight, but when I finally got through security, my flight was delayed. Free internet! How civilized. I sat with a group of jabbering students, who reminded me of the Johns Hopkins groups, playing cards and being loud.

I called Sharon, who was to be picking Maya up from school. She was panicky and lost and an hour and a half late. I directed her street by street to find Maya, who did not appear too distressed. I had hoped Maya and Sharon would have a chance to see Hilary Hahn, who was giving a benefit concert for Japan, but Sharon was too discombobulated after getting lost ( I did not anticipate that Sharon would find it so difficult to manage Maya's schedule). I calmed down, reminding myself that what Maya and Sharon do is out of my control.

When I found my seat on the plane that was already an hour late taking off, there was a mechanical problem to be attended to, and we spent another hour on the tarmac until we were safe to go. I arrived in Montreal far too late to see Tara's play. I took the 747 bus to Mansfield and walked up the hill to McGill and waited for the play to finish. I recognized many of the faces in the audience when the play ended. Tara was happy and was complimented repeatedly. There was time for Indian food at the Taj, with a mango lassi for dessert, and off went Tara to party with her friends, and I found a Moroccan taxi driver to discuss the state of the Middle East with, and found 'Le Petit Hotel' in Old Montreal, with stone walls and modern minimalist furniture and free internet.

Maya left me several messages to tell me she was doing great. Sharon brought her cats with her and Maya is enjoying playing with Ellie and Bethany. Eric is in Minneapolis after a good talk in Lowell and more talks and dinners to participate in. The bed looks big and comfy and inviting.....

Off Again

Eric left Tuesday morning for Lowell, Massachusetts for a job talk and interview, and is off to Minneapolis Thursday for another set of lectures. So Maya and I had a few days together. I picked her up early from school yesterday for two hours of violin at Peabody, one with her accompanist and another with her teacher. After her contemporary dance class, I took her to my contemporary art lecture where she was not too interested. I found that I actually liked a modern artist, who in fact had my last name (?relation?)(Gerhard Richter).

Maya had a 'shadow' day at Roland Park today, a chance to go to a sixth grade class in the "Ingenuity Project', a public school program for gifted children that focuses on math and science. I am not sure what she ought to do next year. The Montessori program is flakey but fun, the Ingenuity Project is intense and focused; entirely opposite, and both suit Maya just fine. I wish I knew what was best for her. Eric believes she will do well whatever she chooses to do, I want her to be happy, but challenged too. Decisions, decisions. Eric usually picks Maya up on Wednesdays, has her practice her violin and drives her to ballet, so my schedule has to be dramatically altered to adjust, but all worked out well. Maya liked the program, but it was odd that she was separated from her best friend (someone had written in large block letters to keep them apart). Ava's mother and I called each other back and forth in an effort to find out who had made that recommendation, but got nowhere with our efforts.

Maya and I both had ballet classes, and there was little time to feed her or relax or discuss our lives. Once she was asleep, I was packing and cleaning house and catching up with billing and whatever else I could think of doing prior to my departure. Eric had a good day, a successful lecture and a good impression of the university he visited.

I was excited to see Tara and Montreal and get back on a plane three days from the last one.

Back Home

First Day of Spring

I Love Snow!

Tax Time!

Time Change

Surviving a Tsunami

The pictures are horrific. I did not see them until late tonight, and I could not stop watching. I wondered if the places I visited have survived, if the people I knew, the homes I stayed in, are still there. I was in Kyoto, Tokyo and a small town called Maizuru on the coast, where I learned how to waterski and ate sea urchins at the beach. I switched off the television when I found myself in tears, and Maya started reacting too. I am not sure I have ever seen anything so terrifying.

The day proved to be exhausting, and when I woke up I knew it was going to be challenging, so I enjoyed my time with Maya while driving her to school, and visited with Emily for breakfast at the Evergreen Cafe, avoiding any thought of what was to come. I did have a patient to see, but was preoccupied the whole hour with my impending visit to the police station. I have discovered yesterday that a longtime patient had been forging my prescriptions. In November, I had reported her to the police, but since she lived in the city and passed off her prescription at a pharmacy in the city, so the county police, whom I reported her to, were unable to go to the city to arrest her. This time she went to a pharmacy in the county, so the police reassured me that she would be charged and my concerns would be taken seriously. We shall see... I spent less time than expected at the police station, but the experience was distressing, and I felt relieved but depressed afterward.

My cleaning lady complained that the kitchen was so dirty she had to work on it for two hours. Eric had been baking bread nightly and there were crumbs everywhere. She complains every time she cleans, and I want to tell her it is her job to clean and that is what she is paid for. Eric had been urging me to fire her and find someone who is happier about cleaning, but I have been too lazy to search for someone new.

My mood was grey and the day was grey. Thankfully it was not raining and the basement was drier. We had Indian food for dinner and went to the Senator Theatre to see 'Rango', which was mildly entertaining and thankfully did not offend Maya. It is a challenge to find good films that suit her too.

Water Water Everywhere

Puzzle Mania

Puzzle Mania

Pop Art

Back in Baltimore

Venice and Tahiti

Home for the Weekend

And Today was a Day of Rest?

I felt silly when Julien asked me over dinner why I looked so relaxed today and I responded that of course today was my day of rest. I explained that I started with a 6:50 wake up call, but I was up before that. I showered, made breakfast and lunch for Maya and Belina (who slept over for the night), drove them to school, drove to Towson for a mat pilates class, then had an hour and a half facial, got my car washed, took an hour reformer pilates class, picked up Maya a half hour early from school, drove her home for a little violin practice, drove her to ballet class, saw three patients at my office, finished up paperwork and deposited the week's payments in the bank, went shopping for the week's groceries at Trader Joes, picked up Maya, droved her home to practice more violin, made salmon with scallops, cheese sauce and peas, and an apple crisp, drove to the Benichous for dinner and finally sat down and enjoyed the evening. This was no day of rest!!!!

I am not sure that I ever truly rest. There are too few hours in the day to get everything done, and I am running from the moment my day starts until I fall in to bed exhausted well after midnight. I sleep perhaps five hours a night. The rest of the 21 hours are jampacked with activity.

It felt good to see the Benichous for the evening. We have both been so busy it has not happened enough.

Pilates, Yoga, Ballet

Wednesday is a busy work day, but the day starts with a pilates class at Goucher college near my office, and ends with a ballet class downtown at Peabody, and today I had a cancelation at 5, so I was able to add a yoga class as well, which made the day quite perfect. I have always exercised regularly, but since my recent neck reinjury, I have modified my regime, no longer lifting weights or running. Instead, I am addicted to almost daily yoga, pilates two or three times a week, and ballet every Wednesday after Maya's class. I get to watch Maya and her friends being graceful and gorgeous, and then a group of middle-aged women in all shapes and sizes takes over. Tim, the teacher for both Maya's and my class, simply tolerates us. He focusses his energy on the young and impressionable in our group, and stays away from me. I believe I am past all hope in that class, but I keep going. I close my eyes in the early part, feeling the movements more intensely that way. I am sure he disapproves, but I don't pay him too much attention. I am not sure why I like the class, but I like the clarity and the discipline.

I realize that I am excessive about exercise. I actually practice what I preach to my patients; I spend at least an hour a day exercising, and feel out of sorts when I do not. Despite all the activity, I remain heavier than I want to be. Eric tells me that no amount of exercise will change my size, but I am not ready to starve myself. At least I remain healthy.

Between stretching and breathing, I had a steady stream of patients, and took care of several piles on my desk. I am not terribly busy at work but I make little effort to change that. I am not sure I want to be busier, but I get nervous when my bank account isn't as robust as I like it. I keep thinking about retirement and what I want to do with my life. I am not sure I expected to work steadily for 30 years! I feel lucky that I enjoy my patients and the profession, but there is so much more that I want to accomplish. It is amazing to me that my sisters and my mother had not worked steadily in their adult lives, that they have depended entirely on their husbands for income. I feel that I am 30 years behind!!!! Eight to ten hours daily have been devoted to patients and their problems. What would I have done with those hours if I had not been in the office? There are so many books I wish to read, places to see, hobbies to explore, so much of life that I have missed by being devoted to my practice. I wonder if it is simply time to retire and open new possibilities in my life. But that is not going to happen, since I support a husband and child, and I have nothing to live on if I am not working.

Red Shoes

March means spring, or at least the beginning of spring, so it is time to push my black salt stained boots to the back of the closet and pull out the red shoes. Spring is colour and lightness. The snow is gone and most likely will not be back until next year.

It was far too cold for red patent leather sling backs, and although I tried to walk outside without an overcoat, I did not last long, and decided that I would throw out my faded black leather jacket in a few more weeks. The sun was shining all day, and looking outside my office window convinced me even more that spring is near.

When I picked Maya up for her afternoon violin lesson, her teacher canceled at the last moment, so Maya and I had time to visit 'Cold Stone Creamery' for an ice cream, although I was not quite ready for a cold snack (Maya is ready anytime)...perhaps next month!

I returned to my 'Contemporary Art' class, where we sped through 'Abstract Expressionism'. I am hoping to appreciate modern art, and I am excited to return to the MOMA as soon as possible to revisit pieces I have never had much interest in. I wonder when I am going to have that 'ah hah' moment, when the meaning and beauty and depth of modern art will strike me. de Kooning is all about emotion and transformative art, but I am not there yet. Rothko isn't touching me yet either.....we move to pop art next week, so I am not sure I will 'get it', but I am excited about visiting several museums nearby for possible catharsis.

My daughter returned from Cuba yesterday, or perhaps the day before. I believe she had no internet or phone during her vacation, so I have not had any contact since she left, but I am excited to hear about her observations and adventures. I always thought we would visit Cuba together, but she chose to go with her school friends, which is understandable, but I am sad we did not share the experience together.