Namesakes

It's hard to believe that we picked our baby names back in January (and agreed on them so quickly!) and then spent a good 8 months not knowing whether we were having a Julia or a Sergio. Now that we have our Julia Minerva, I am thinking a lot about where we got those names that we chose so many months (eons!) ago ...

Our Julia is named after two Julias in my family. The first was my great grandmother - Julia Wesson Taylor - my Mema's mother.

Julia #1 - she had red hair - her nickname was "Pet" - Mema says she made the best pickles

"Mama Taylor," as she is commonly known, died in 1971, but her memory is very strong in our family even today. My Mema loves to quote her still ("Anything that you do, do with all your might. Things done by halves are never done right.") and we all frequently recount the most famous story of her dogged determination: when her husband died in 1929 and left Mama Taylor with her 7 children to raise, someone came to take some of the kids away, assuming she couldn't provide for them herself; she told them that no one was taking her children and firmly encouraged them to get off her property. We love that story of the strong-willed matriarch of the family.

The second Julia is the one I know best - Julia Ophelia Akins (née Gandy) - my mother.

Julia #2 (a.k.a. Judy) with Julia #3 (a.k.a. Jujube) on day #1

She was named after her grandmother (the first Julia) though she's most commonly known as Judy. Just as my Mema wanted to name her daughter after her mother, I wanted to name my daughter after my mother ... my mother who is strong and warm, smart and insightful, humble and wise. Truly one of the wisest people I know.

Which brings us to the next namesake, another figure who embodies wisdom - Minerva.

The mosaic of Minerva in the Library of Congress in Washington DC during family vacation 2009 - if we'd known we would eventually have a baby and use that name, we'd have taken a better photo.

Minerva was the Roman goddess of poetry, medicine, wisdom, weaving, crafts, magic, music - or, as we like to tell people, the goddess of all the best stuff. She was the Roman corollary to the Greek goddess Athena, also the goddess of wisdom, and both were represented by owls, symbols of wisdom. (And, as luck would have it, Julia Minerva's mother already had an obsession with owls resulting in two charming owl pillows and an owl onesie for the baby, long before we knew who this baby was.) I have to give credit where it's due here; it was Sergio who suggested that we use this name. I had some misgivings at first, the nature of which I can hardly recall now, now that our aptly named Julia Minerva is here.

Last week at church, we told Canon Sue that our baby's name was "Julia Minerva" and she remarked on the legacy of wisdom that we've bestowed on her. I know Canon Sue was referring to the Minerva name, but I think we've laid it on thick with the two Julias in her history, too. Not just an ancient goddess, but some real life strong, wise women in my family, too. Hope it's not too much to live up to, Julia, but is just enough to inspire.

Family Vacation in Washington, DC

This summer's Big Vacation No. 1 was with my family, 12 of us total, in the nation's capital. We stayed in Foggy Bottom in a beautiful four bedroom condo that overlooked the Potomac and was full to the brim of books. We enjoyed a special tour of the Library of Congress and of the Capital; we saw the White House from afar and the Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights up close. We experienced monuments and memorials, shopped at Trader Joe's and the farmers market, ate delicious food, saw interesting exhibits, watched Night at the Museum at the museum, walked an average of 8,000 steps a day, almost mastered the fare card system at the metro stations, and had a very good time indeed. It pained me to leave at the end of the trip (Sergio and I left a day before the other 10), but we were off to Big Vacation No. 2.

All the pictures are on Flickr; below are just a few...

in the corridor of the big beautiful condo

FAMILY at the LOC

from the Library of Congress to the Capital

a view of the Washington monument

The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States

the gang at the Hirschhorn

Founding Farmers

Just as all of the reliefs, murals, and monuments in Washington DC commemorate in symbolic detail the pantheon of American history, the smart logo at the restaurant Founding Farmers also pays homage to the nation's foundations. One F looks to the left, honoring the agricultural origins of the land; the other F looks to the right signaling the importance of farming for the future. The figure in the middle of the logo is a corn cob with multicolored kernels to represent the diversity of all of the founding farmers.



The food and the principles behind the restaurant pay homage, too, with nostalgic entrees, clever names, and of course, a list of local farmers and producers. The full range of the menu reflects a sophisticated respect for heritage, history, and - as the slogan says - true food and drink. The pasta is handcrafted using "only the best '00' flour, inspired by Thomas Jefferson;" the "Simply Barackwurst" is from Simply Sausage Farm in Virginia; there is pimiento cheese and tomato jam on the menu, both of which were decidedly the best I've had.



To start, I ordered a drink called "Nice Coat!" (with an exclamation mark) - "A little fresh basil, a little lime juice, a little Blue Coat American Dry Gin, a little love. Nice!" And indeed it was. Just the first nice step in a very nice meal of fried green tomatoes, skillet cornbread, flatbread, butternut squash ravioli, and a fresh fruit tart (peaches) with pristine house made vanilla ice cream.



Dad ordered the Steak and Enchilada; it came with a corn cob in the middle. Two in our party ordered entrees that came with a side of green beans that were remarkable (so remarkable that I can't remember what their entrees were). Sergio ordered the veggie burger, of course. Everything was delicious.



The decor is rustic but refined - a sort of historical hip with agrarian influences. Bird lamps and cloud lamps suggest open air and bucolic notions of farm land; beautiful canned vegetables line the walls. The salads are served in big mixing bowls; the water comes in milk bottles and the water glasses are thick and homely. The entire experience - food, drink, and ambiance - is equal portions new and old, expected and unexpected, clever and plain, all perfectly combined into something at once refreshing, comforting and unique.

Oh yes, and on the window encircling the entire restaurant is a charming relic from Thomas Jefferson - a recipe for Macaroons.

Macaroons
From the Thomas Jefferson Papers
*Pour boiling water on your Almonds & take off the skin.
*Wash them in cold water wipe them well in a towel
*Beat them
*Add whites of eggs from time to time beating them always to prevent them from turning into oil
*Take them out of the water
*Add sugar
*Add whites of eggs
*Beat them well with a wooden spoon
*Taste the paste to see if it is too bitter
*Add sugar if you find it too bitter
*Dresser les avec deux couteaux le grosseur d'un noix sur des feuilles de papier.
*Put them in a oven, not too hot but hotter than after taking out the bread.
*You prove proper heat of the oven by holding in a bit of white paper. If it burns it will burn your macaroons. If it just browns the paper it is exact.

Inauguration Report #4

This fourth and final report is the film and photo edition.

Click here to see my whole set of pics on Flickr.

And here is a wonderful video compilation of the trip, courtesy of Sergio (you can also see a larger version in high quality on YouTube by clicking here and selecting "watch in high quality" just below the screen):



The wonderful, long, inaugural weekend in DC would not have been as feasible or as fun if it hadn't been for these folks on the left. Ken and Lindsay were very gracious hosts and enjoyable company - as usual. And I loved experiencing this historic moment with them.

Inauguration Report #3

So here's what happened on the Big Day...

We managed to wake up at the dark, strange hour of 4:00 am on Tuesday. We bundled ourselves in our double layers and extra hats and headed out. It was dark and cold and the streets were quiet, but a few blocks from Ken & Lindsay's apartment we spotted some other inauguration-bound early birds. Our first stop was breakfast at Open City, a coffeehouse • diner • bar that stayed open 24 hours during the Inauguration festivities. It was actually kind of bustling (for 4:30 in the morning); we weren't the only ones prepping for the big day with a big meal.

By 5:45, after stopping to buy a couple of copies of the Post, we were boarding a very crowded Metro, just wedging ourselves into the back of the train. We got off the train at Farragut North and joined the strong current of people heading south to the National Mall. It was still dark as night, but the people were out in droves and everyone moved in a unified direction. It was surreal to feel so in tune with such huge numbers of perfect strangers and to be making this epic journey at this ungodly hour with them. That we were moving so far all together on foot, that the bone-chilling cold did not deter us, that such a diverse range of people all had the same destination in mind ... all contributed to the visceral quality of the morning.

So, on we went, skirting the closed roads and barriers, remarking at the strange feeling of so many military personnel standing by, marveling at the some-what delirious man with a bicycle and a tiny American flag who asked us "Is somethin' goin' on today? Where's everybody goin'?"

It was 6:30 by the time we arrived at our pre-scouted-out spot immediately east of the Washington Monument where the hill gave us a nice vantage point of the capital, which was still (of course) about a mile away but was glowing brilliantly. There were plenty of people arriving when we did, plus some who had been there already and were sound asleep on the ground, bundled in sleeping bags. I had just arrived and was already freezing, so I couldn't imagine what those folks must have felt. Although after a couple of hours of cold I began to imagine.

The 11 degree wind chill effectively chilled me to the core rather quickly and though we huddled together, bought lots of hand warmers, and jumped up and down to keep warm, I couldn't fully shake the piercing edge of the persistent cold. I thought that my toes would go numb. The temperature rose slightly a couple of hours later after the sun had come out fully. But by then we were nearly frozen solid and were reluctant even to remove our gloves long enough to use our cell phones, (which had trouble working anyway). And so we just watied with eagerness and watched.

The monumental significance of the event was touted proudly by everyone's Obama wear, but uniquely so by some inauguration goers who wore shirts or carried flags that said "we were there." I kept thinking "I can't believe I'm really here." But the phrase "we were there" already pushes the event into the past, even as it is still happening, even before the ceremony has begun.

As the fully diverse crowd began to fill in thick and steady, the hour approached for the ceremonies to begin. With binoculars we could see the jumbotron and could watch the dignitaries move into place. The crowd booed & hissed a couple of folks but mostly hoorayed the rest, going crazy when Obama was on the screen and calming down to almost-silence in anticipation of the big moment.

That 2 million people were all gathered in one spot was obviously remarkable. But the fact that 2 million people were more than willing - happy even - to stand for hours in the freezing cold, work through the crowds, wait in line 30 minutes for an unpleasant porta-potty, etc., all in order to gather in one spot for this one event - that was something I couldn't fully grasp, even as I stood right there and felt it myself.

The ceremonies transpired quickly, like Christmas morning after so much anticipation, the culmination of unparalleled excitement. After the prayers, the songs, the oath, the speech, the poem, the tears, the squeals, the hoorays, and the thunderous gloved applause ... the mass exodus began and we all jostled together like penguins slowly waddling our way out - moving as one body - trying to leave the mall.

The great quantities of people dispersed on foot through the city, moving through the transformed streets and filling up the restaurants and metros. We were hungry and tired, so we took a taxi back to Ken & Lindsay's and began the slow process of thawing while reveling in the reality of our new president. With vegetable stew bubbling on the stove, we listened to the radio, watched the TV, and Googled for more information.

The inauguration was beyond exciting. But the thrill didn't stop there: later that day, when someone on the radio reported on "former President George W. Bush" and then said "President Obama" - my heart skipped a beat at the thought of what just happened. The city hummed with excitement into the next day as Ken and Lindsay reported elevator and metro conversations with fellow chatty and happy inauguration goers. The excitement followed Sergio and me home on our direct flight back to Kansas City - on the airplane it was every topic of conversation. And even on the shuttle bus out to economy parking at MCI, the people around us were abuzz with inauguration stories.

I am happy for this buzz to continue for a long time.

Inauguration Report #2

It is Christmas Eve (according to Sergio) and we are too excited to sleep. But we have decided to force ourselves to go to bed early enough that we can get an early start tomorrow. And by early, I mean 4. The city is abuzz; the excitement is in the ether and is intoxicating everyone. The string of tour buses headed down the street (as Lindsay pointed out), the siren sound of (perhaps) a very important motorcade (as Ken pointed out), conversations overheard in passing, presidential helicopters overhead, restaurants staying open 24 hours, and - of course - plenty more Obama specials to be had at every retail location ("Obama Rama Small Cakes - $7" at Sticky Fingers Bakery). Even the parking spots near the 3100 block of Connecticut Ave were already becoming scarce by early this afternoon. You can feel the hum of the inauguration all around.

We generated our own giddy buzz at (Ken & Lindsay's) home tonight where we have been all a-twitter scouting out entry points and jumbotron spots on the national mall for tomorrow, deciding what to wear to keep us sufficiently warm (high of 31 , but the windchill in the AM will be 11 and we don't want to pull a Wm Henry Harrison), deciding what kinds of provisions to take (only "small snacks" are allowed - whatever that means - and our wait will be long so we're taking granola & vegan jerky), charging the batteries in all our electronic devices & cameras, and speculating comically on what both Barack Obama and George W. Bush must be doing or thinking on this momentous eve.

We are preparing all the hats and long johns, snacks and cameras tonight ... but I'm sure there will be something much more inspiring to remember tomorrow.

Inauguration Report #1

The inauguration is like Christmas. Not in a Santa/wish-come-true sort of way (although there is that for some of us), but in a ubiquity sort of way, in the sense that it is everywhere - advertisements, parties, concerts, events, sales, specials, drinks, window decor, street decor, street vendors. Everything that said "Christmas" one month ago now says "Inauguration." This is not much of a news flash, I'm sure. But the degree of pervasiveness struck me. The obvious garlands of American flags, the images of Obama, the postcards at the airport (we bought 4), the buttons at the museum (we bought 10) ... all of that I expected. But I didn't expect the Ikea ads in the metro that say "Change Begins at Home" or "The Time for Domestic Reform Is Now;" I didn't expect the image of Obama on the back of my metro ticket or the Ombama yoga poster or the 'bamablooms. The headline on the current issue of the City Paper reads, very simply, "He's Here!" But he is more than just here, he is everywhere.

He really is here now - came in last night, so we were told. Not that we've bumped into him or anything. But we did see the Shepard Fairey portrait of Obama at the National Gallery. We have also seen lots of stuff about the last 43. Also at the Portrait Gallery we enjoyed seeing the likenesses of all previous presidents and particularly enjoyed George W. Bush's portrait, which has only recently been added to the exhibit. In it, Bush isn't wearing a tie or jacket. He is seated on a couch, very casually. He is leaning forward, as though chit-chatting with you the viewer as you sit across the living room. It's a strange departure from the portraits of preceding presidents' which all feature a traditional stance and a formal setting, except for the slightly relaxed Clinton leaning comfortably on the mantle piece, the close cropped portrait of Nixon painted by Norman Rockwell (of all people), and the Elaine de Kooning portrait of JFK featuring abstract expressionist swaths of color, instead of an oval office or a living room.

Last night we attended a "Songs for Presidents" concert featuring songs from the album "Of Great and Mortal Men: 43 Songs for 43 U.S. Presidencies." The different bands in this concert sang unsung stories of each president: Truman once wanted to run a men's clothing store (and ended up dropping the bomb), Gerald Ford was drafted by the Green Bay Packers, Jimmy Carter saw a UFO, Calvin Coolidge's son died of a blister from a game of tennis. Nellie McKay sang a song about Thomas Jefferson's invention called the Moldboard of Least Resistance and - perhaps the best song of the evening - Tim Fite sang about Grover Cleveland who raised his best friend's daughter from infancy and married her when she was 21. So strange. But so great. The information conveyed in these songs was not the traditional stuff of patriotism. But I liked the hodge podge of facts and quirky stories. And after just two days in DC and I am actually feeling quite patriotic indeed.

nothing says hope like a tiny garden of origami blooms with Obama's image on each side of each flower.