Let the Festivities Begin!

It's been great to be home again! These pictures were taken at the Botanical Gardens, where grandma works, and also at the Lincoln Center Tree Lighting ceremony. Is it true that it is only 25 days until Christmas?!

Found in Yonkers!

To say it is so good to be home, is putting it mildly. Being in my own bed has been the best feeling. And eating "normal" stuff as well. The kids, especially Sydney, don't want to leave the house for anything. This morning upon waking up at 6am, I asked them if we should go to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and it was a big "NO WAY". We are having a quiet Thanksgiving with Grandma & Grandpa in the newly redecorated living room thanks to Grandma. The whole place has been redone and looks great! I have spent the past couple of days putting things away, getting the kids back to their piano, and helping Larry get ready for his performance of Amahl & the Night Visitors in Texas which, by the way, can be found at
http://operaet.com/mainsite/seasonheader.html

I wish everyone reading a fantastic Thanksgiving!!! The USA is the best country in the world!!

The Typewriter

Sydney is a bookworm. So it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone when I say that a visit to the infamous Latin Quarter bookstore, Shakespeare & Company, was on our list of "must see and do." Sydney of course could have spent the rest of the trip here. As we walked up the stairs to the children’s section, Larry planted himself in one of the smaller rooms - surrounded by walls of old dusty philosophy books, a beat-up twin bed, and an old desk. Sitting on that desk was an old-fashioned typewriter. As Quintin entered the room, he exclaimed, "What is that?!" I leave the room to check on Sydney who is now deeply engrossed in a book about fairies while Larry explains to Quintin the inner workings of a typewriter and what it does. Quintin quickly became fascinated and so deeply engrossed in this invention called the typewriter. He got such a tickle from the sound and the feel of the keys and the sound of the return handle’s bell. He was in love. He then needed paper and began to ask everyone in sight. He must have asked me five times. At one point he came running back to his dad, "I found another typewriter, with ribbon AND it has paper in it!" Quintin began to type:

quintin rules and sydney
rules and mom and dad rule
cool
now I’m in Paris and I think
it’s cool

Quintin Harris

Quintin was so inspired by the sheer act of seeing his words on paper that he was on fire! Was Hemingway’s spirit talking to him? We had to drag him out of the bookstore and ever since, has begged us to go back. He has been talking about being a writer someday. Guess what he wants for Christmas?

Au revoir!

November 17: Today is our last day in Paris. The agent audition on Wednesday went well and we now have an ally in Paris. Mission accomplished. As we realize that our 2-month adventure of living like gypsies is coming to an end, we try to make the most out of these last few days. I am sitting in a Parisian café sipping on espresso as I write this entry for the blog. This city is amazing. I have learned much about its rich history and heritage. The kids and Larry went to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa while I purposely stayed behind to take advantage of seeing Paris sans husband and kids. Just before sitting down for some quiet time, I went window shopping on Rue de Rivoli, which is supposedly the thing to do. I recognize stores such as H & M, Adidas, Aeroesole, and others and was quickly reminded of New York. I do think New York is a lot tamer than Paris but does "beat out" Paris in the classical music and live music scenes. But what New York is to music, I think Paris is to art. I am in constant awe at the "electricity" that seems to abound in every inch of this city. Earlier today, I stopped into the most amazing, what they call "supermarket" that I have ever laid my eyes on. It is called Fouchon and is quite famous. Everywhere I look, building after building, store-front after store-front, as well as statues, fountains, boulevards, palaces, I am amazed at the sheer beauty and grandeur of everything. It has been a great day losing myself in a little bohemian café off Rue du Rivoli, revelling in something that is known only in this corner of the world.

Miracle in Munich

Those who know about the last year’s fiasco at St. Brendan’s, will appreciate what I am about to tell you. When we arrived in Munich, we didn’t know how we were going to make it financially through the next couple of weeks. Without being able to go home and not knowing anyone over here, things were looking pretty desperate. The night before we had stayed at Meininger’s, a youth hostel that welcomes families, where we were able to laundry. (Boy, was it good to have clean clothes again!) It was out of the question to stay another night as was camping with the dropping temperature. Larry had an idea and began to drive. I was tired from lack of sleep the night before and had a stomach-ache so didn’t question where we were going. We pulled up to a Catholic church where Larry had practiced the previous month and disappeared for about what seemed like an hour. All I could do was wonder. When Larry came back he explained to me that he had asked the church secretary for a place to stay and she said there wasn’t anything available. At the moment of being turned away, wouldn’t you know it, the pastor of the Catholic church walked through the door. Larry then explained our situation and why we were in Germany. The priest asked, in German of course, what brought us to his church. Larry answered simply, "Gott.". The priest thought for awhile and said "OK". He granted us a stay in the rectory for one week. The four of us soon found ourselves in a bright, cozy little bedroom that included two queen-sized futons, a wardrobe, and a large desk, situated on the third floor, right over the priest’s room. We were very adamant with the kids about not making any noise with their feet or voices. The next day we were shown the kitchen which we were give permission to use. The church secretary, Ingrid, served coffee to me and milk to the kids. We were also given a key to another building so that we could practice...and the room had a PIANO! As the week progressed, Larry and I began to feel a sort of renewal. Our days were spent focusing on the kids’ writing and math skills and the evenings for rehearsing. Part of our rehearsal involved Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors which Larry will perform in Texas next month. No surprise that the kids can both sing the entire role of Amahl. Quintin is determined to perform this role on the professional stage someday soon. Anyways, getting back to my story...the church staff was very friendly and very accommodating to us showing us the laundry facility if we needed it and just making us feel very welcome. Of course, we went to mass that Sunday and a funny thing happened at the very finish of it. The battery in the car had died the day before and we thought we were going to have to wait until Monday to get it going again. The priest, who was also the celebrant for the mass, came running up to Larry with a jumper cable in hand ready to go, still in his vestments! And it was snowing! We were stunned. Later that day, as I was preparing some pasta in the kitchen, the priest peeked in to ask me if the kids had enough food. He then made several trips back to the kitchen, each time bringing items from what I believe was from his own kitchen. Later that evening, the music director invited us back to the church for a concert that he was conducting. The program included Puccini’s Mass and we were impressed that as it turned colder and snowier, the concert was very well-attended. The music was accompanied by a large chorus, two male soloists, full orchestra and organ. The priest took a real liking to the kids and they to him. He sort of reminded us of a naval captain and maybe Santa too. There must have been a reception after the concert because he brought several plates of dessert and food back for the kids. I can tell you this: he is the nicest priest we have ever had the privilege of knowing. As the week went on, we wondered what we could do in exchange but the priest insisted on nothing. Larry and I agree that this whole experience has helped to heal the wounds afflicted about a year ago in the Bronx. My dad had made a comment while he was here about people being the same no matter where you are. I agree. Throughout this trip, I have witnessed great history and art, spectacular architecture and the most beautiful landscapes. But more importantly are the people. Goodness and kindness are everywhere, whether you’re in Germany, Texas, France or New York. Though people may differ in their customs or history, from country to country or continent to continent, it is the human spirit that connects us to each other. When we embrace that part of our selves, the world doesn’t seem such a big and scary place after all.

Mad King Ludwig

Well, Grandpa Hey-Hey got off to the airport and we were so happy that he could cross the ocean to experience Europe with us. Thanks to him we had the time of our lives that previous week. As soon as we left Zurich, we headed north to Munich and stopped that night at the notoriously famous Neuschwanstein. You know, the Disney inspired castle created by "Mad" King Ludwig of the 19th century. It was a magical place. And I don’t believe the king was mad. Ludwig fell in love with Wagner’s music as a teen and soon after become his most trusted benefactor. The king adorned his castle walls with scenes from all of Wagner’s operas. He even instructed someone to build him a man-made cave right outside his bedroom - a scene derived directly from Wagner’s Tannhauser. The castle was never completed during the king’s lifetime who had actually died rather young under very mysterious circumstances. Inside the castle was even a Singers Hall with a small stage and fantastic acoustics. That too was not enjoyed by the king because of his premature death. But our guide and the other tourists did enjoy a few bars of Tannhauser’s Abendstern, sung by a certain opera singer in the group. I couldn’t help but feel immense sadness for King Ludwig who happened to also be a pianist and artist. His home was certainly a hommage to the great music of Wagner. And he was wrongly accused of being "mad". His imagination surpassed anyone’s understanding as well as his passionate desire to "become one" with the great music of Wagner. If getting caught up in the creative process of what we do is what makes one crazy, then we are all in trouble.

ALPS

We leave Aosta, Italy and it is Sunday and ALL things close including grocery markets and gas stations. Sundays in Europe: hard lesson to learn. As we drive from Italy to France to Switzerland all within an hour or so, we find ourselves in yet another breathtaking environment. All I can say is that is was an amazing afternoon in the alps and luckily we did manage to find a gas station.

Too Much of a Good Thing

En route back to Zurich where grandpa had to depart from in two days, we spent the night in a little Italian town called Aosta, which I later found out had more Roman ruins, a fantastic history, and other interesting sights. But at this point when you see so many amazing things you become overloaded. A simple drive down the road of breathtaking views, seeing castle after castle, can quite surprisingly become "old". We are all homesick at this point - the kids and I want to go back with grandpa hey-hey but soon find out that it will cost too much. The kids are now are counting the days until we are back in New York. They deserve a lot of credit and have been good little troopers throughout this entire trip, no matter how tough or challenging. The simple things have become a chore: finding dinner (forget about breakfast, nobody even believes in breakfast!), washing clothes, taking a shower...and let’s not even talk about the most resented topic: the euro. Dorothy said it right, "There’s no place like home."

Nice

As we headed north back to German speaking lands, we could not leave the French Riviera without a quick visit to the beach. I was surprised to see all rocks and no sand on this beach. Quintin, decked out in his spider-man pajamas (where in the world is a laundrymat???!!!!) found a "seeing-stone" which he gave to his VERY appreciate sister. For those of you who don’t know what a seeing-stone is, you use it to see fairies with, of course.

Marseilles

We were fortunate enough to arrive in Marseilles, France’s 2nd largest city, right in the nick of time...at sunset. Breathtaking is all I can say. Oh, Sydney decided to take the word "gypsy" quite literally.

Pont du Gard

Scenes from Roussillon

Although I have never visited Santa Fe, Roussillon seemed reminiscent of it. I’ll keep this entry brief in an effort to catch up. I would definitely love to come back to this red ochre village on the hill someday.

Roman Ruins

After our experience in Milan, (insane traffic, graffiti ridden buildings, and your basic rampant chaos)we decided to skip Rome. We felt bad missing out on one of the greatest cities in Europe but decided the extra stress was not worth it. Fortunately, in France I learned that there are a great number of Roman ruins that are still intact thanks to my book Take Your Kids to Europe. We were privileged to visit the town of Nimes (the birthplace of denim!) where we saw a Roman temple, the Maison Carrée, which is considered one of Europe’s best preserved, as well as an arena. The arena in Nimes is still used for bullfighting and concerts. Once we were inside this awesome structure, Larry surprised us with a few bars of Di Provenza which stunned a few innocent bystanders and made us wanting more Verdi in the incredible natural acoustics of the arena. The next day the five of us went to the Pont du Gard, a three-tiered Roman aqueduct that immediately became Larry’s favorite sight. It was fascinating for all of us to learn how the aqueduct was built and its many uses. There were other sights and cities nearby in the Rhone Valley that we never got to that I hope to someday: Orange, Avignon (although when we passed, we saw huge and impressive castle walls that encircled the "downtown"area), Gordes, and many more. I can’t believe how the Romans were so ahead of their time. It seemed that all over Europe in many cities whether it was Cologne or Milan or Paris that the Romans really did conquer Europe and made amazing and lasting impressions which have quite miraculously lasted through the ages.

PS The farm house we stayed at near Rousillon was built over a sight of Roman ruins. And the structure itself was actually constructed with pieces of the ancient dwelling. Grandpa Hey-Hey had strange dreams that evening.

Tarascon

The next day was All Saints’ Day - a big deal over here; in fact, everything was closed for the holiday. Well, on our quest to find Roman ruins in Provence, not a difficult task in this region, we found ourselves on narrow, winding tree-lined roads with quaint views of village after village. At one point in the car in all our efforts to decode the road map, I mention that we should take the road that goes toward a small village called Tarascon. Immediately, Sydney exclaims, "Did you say Tarascon?!" She then very excitedly opens her book entitled How to Keep and Raise a Dragon. "Here it is!" she exclaims. She then shows me on page 48 about this dragon called Tarasque that lives in Tarascon - the only dragon in all of France. By now the kids are beyond excitement and all memories of a dull and lackluster Halloween have completely vanished. Sydney and Quintin discuss amongst themselves where and how they can find this dragon and possibly take some dragon eggs to back to New York. In my effort to curb what I foresee as more disappointment than ever, I tell them that it will nearly be impossible to find a dragon today. As we drive into town, we ask a local passerby for a street called Rue du St. Martha, as per Sydney’s instructions. By now, the excitement in the car is too much to handle and all I can think of is the inevitable disappointment looming ahead since you know....there’s no such thing as....dragons! Soon after the man gives us instructions in French which of course we can’t understand and we go our way. Guessing at which way to go, Quintin then tells us to make a left turn, which we do. The street becomes another typical narrow cobblestone road which transports us back in time. Well, wouldn’t you know it? We are on Rue du St. Martha! And right smack dab in front of us behind glass is, you guessed it, the Tarasque Dragon! You think they saw Santa Claus or something! To say the least, the kids were thrilled at finding something so real and so important! As far as Larry, grandpa hey-hey, and me: our jaws made a beeline south and could not be picked up for some time. Astonishingly, this dragon was everywhere you turned; and before leaving town, we saw a stone statue of it in front of a magnificent medieval castle once ruled by King Rene. Legend states that this Tarasque dragon lived in a cavern under the castle and it menaced the town maidens. St. Martha bravely confronted the dragon and it died.
Lesson learned: Don’t doubt the word of the 10-year-old girl who has found over 40 four-leaf-clovers.

HALLOWEEN

Yes, I know almost two weeks have passed but, well, you know...by the way, today is Lynette’s Birthday...Happy Birthday, Lynette!! Grandpa "hey-hey" as the kids call him spent a week with us and what a fantastic week it was! We drove down to Provence where, like Paris, you can’t see and do everything there is to see and do. The first order of concern was Halloween though. No, they don’t celebrate it in France, especially in Provence. But that didn’t stop Sydney and Quintin, who had made sure their costumes were packed back in September. The kids ended up buying a package of candy and passing them out in front of the supermarket to individuals while wishing them a Happy Halloween. Quintin tried but was embarrassed and left it to Sydney who was determined to spread the word of Halloween to those who have been missing out. Many were puzzled but graciously accepted the candy from her. Some tried to give her money and there were those who just flat out wouldn’t take it. After most of the candy was given out, we had a picnic dinner in our room, read an old scary tale, and tried our best to comfort the kids who announced that this was the worst Halloween of their life!!