Ups and Downs in NYC

My favorite skyscraper - reflecting the afternoon sun.

(This is a lengthy post--just scroll through the photos and plan a trip of your own!)

Weekends in NYC are always exciting ... and exhausting. This past weekend was no exception. And that is the first of the ups and downs of NYC.

This time was the first time I flew into NYC with the husband since I started visiting NYC three years ago. So except for the first night, which the girls had pre-planned, the dynamics were a little different this time. It was a birthday weekend and we accommodated the birthday boy's preferences.

We stayed at the Holiday Inn Express in the Financial District, which was just steps away from M & S's lovely new apartment. They are up on the 33rd floor with a great view down to the bay. On Sunday night I looked down from their living room window and saw fireworks popping up. Not sure what the occasion was, but maybe it was for earth day...

We were assigned to the 12th floor (out of 55) of the hotel (the tallest Holiday Inn), which was still too high up for the one who is afraid of heights. Immediately upon entering the room I was asked to put the window shade down while he looked away. The single shade closed via a remote control hanging on the wall by the bed. It was just as well it remained closed, since this was the view down below:

Not so pretty!

So the first night we walked just a few blocks to the Osteria della Pace restaurant in Eataly, located in the World Trade Center complex, building #4, the first one to be completed, featuring 65 floors above ground.

Sangria at Eataly

I had a sangria (while the husband and M. upped the bill with several martinis). We split some pasta and downed a shared meatball appetizer and an eggplant dish, but the insalata rossa was the Instagram star of the evening:

Roasted red and golden beets in a delicious pistachio sauce were down under there...

We sat by the window, facing in. The window views from Eataly are great. I took a funny selfie which I really cannot share full-face. Notice the load hanging from a crane--a common view in NYC. I guess NYC building and repair will never be finished. Cranes and scaffolding everywhere are just part of the picture.

A cropped view of my hair (with freshly dyed roots!) and the view behind me.

View from my "obstructed view" seat up on the second tier looking down. 

It was a long subway ride to Carnegie Hall, but we had the tickets in hand and quickly found our box seats on the second tier up. The Grand Rapids Symphony was warming up and it was already 8:04 PM when I took this photo, according to my phone and the downbeat was likely around 8:10. Many were still waiting outside for tickets when we arrived and were allowed in later, filling a majority of the seats in the hall. It was a surprisingly large and enthusiastic crowd. We enjoyed the guest pianist and the symphony choir, with our own Aaron singing sincerely from the front row of tenors.

We had purchased obstructed view seats, not really knowing what that meant. My only obstruction was the head of the husband of the French horn player, but I also could not see directly down at the trombones and basses. That was okay, because the tickets were only $17.50! The French hornist's spouse who sat a foot closer to the rail said he paid $35, which he said was the discounted GR Symphony price! Upon reflection, I'll bet he was confused. He had his daughter with him and that would have been $35 for the two of them!

I enjoyed the program and the view from up on high in this famed hall very much. M. found the program to be a little too long to sit quietly. The husband seemed engaged throughout!

Maestro Lehninger returned on the same late Monday night plane. We were able to greet him and tell him how much we had enjoyed the concert.

The next day we four received a surprise Uber Eats breakfast, compliments of the Floridian kids, for the husband's birthday. It included a variety of delicious breakfast foods. The delivery girl sang, danced, and twirled the husband around in the hallway. She made up extra verses and would not stop! She was so badly out of tune! And M. has it all on her phone. Hilarious!

Saturday was sunny and in the sixties. We took a long, narrated bus tour, through sections of Manhattan mostly south of midtown. We went past Madison Square Garden, Stuyvesant Town, the Empire State Building, the Flatiron Building, and learned that Soho (South of Houston) was the place for shoe shopping. We got off to eat lunch at Madison Square and had to wait in a long line (on a sunny Saturday) at the original Shake Shack (which was kind of a minor bucket list item for me). I had a chicken sandwich and an apple pie shake. Very tasty! The husband had a draft, a Shack-cago Dog and some fries. Not everything in NYC is so expensive! We also had a Dunkin' Donut shop right next door to our hotel. A small coffee was only $2.09 and we enjoyed two croissant breakfast sandwiches and two coffees for $9.99 one morning.

We sat up on the top of a Greyline bus and took photos looking up at tall buildings. My neck was a little "cricked" from looking up so much! Now have a much better sense of the enormity and diversity of this amazing city.

Typical city view from the tour bus - blooming dogwoods and World Vision building in view

That evening a big steakhouse dinner was planned for the birthday boy. We had ribeyes and filets that were aged and large, tasty and pricey. Plus a nice bottle of wine. I have no photos of brown steaks in a gracious but dimly lit steakhouse. Nothing Instagram worthy. But it happened! I went to bed with an overstuffed belly of beef, having shared, but not wasted one bite of my steak.

I navigated the city streets successfully in my black dress flats on both our "dressed up" nights out on the town, with the help of some new gel inserts which I had cut to fit. It turns out the daughter has the identical pair of black flats (a size larger!) from Nordstroms, which I spotted under her desk at work. My shin splints were only minimally twingy on this trip--even with all the ups and downs.

On the way home from the steak dinner we passed by the NYSE which looks extra cool at night:

NYSE at night.

Sunday we (three) grabbed a taxi to Redeemer Presbyterian Church on the UWS. We went down below ground to enter the worship space. A fabulous violinist played Mozart and we sang traditional hymns to piano accompaniment. The preacher for the day was lengthy and learned, speaking about how to think about using our work time in a way that reflects God's will for our lives and prepares us for the life to come, when we can truly experience Sabbath rest. Something like that. The sermon included an abundance of content, ample examples and appropriate biblical and literary references.The husband was super happy with this traditional worship service. The congregation was friendly and filled with many Asian faces--presumably Korean Presbyterians.

Spring in the Cloister Museum garden

We found a nearby French coffee shop for brunch, where S. joined us and then grabbed a big Uber to take us up north to The Met Cloisters, part of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, devoted to the art and architecture of medieval Europe. The Cloisters Museum was set up on a hill overlooking the Hudson river. We enjoyed the warm spring sunshine in the outdoor areas as well as the indoor art.

I took some photos in the Unicorn Tapestries Room while I listened to some thoughts from the docent. These tapestries were woven in Brussels around 1500 and were gifted to the museum in 1937 by John D. Rockefeller Jr. The Museum opened to the public in 1938.

Unicorn tapestry detail

A winding path descended down the hill from the Cloisters and led us to the A subway line which took us all the way down the Island to the stop near our hotel--the longest subway ride for me ever.

We relaxed for a bit and then returned to the 33rd floor apartment where we enjoyed a pizza and salad delivered via a new service called Seamless. We watched some old family movies that we had brought along on a device for them to download.

Monday morning we asked for a late checkout, packed up a bit. grabbed some Dunkin' and walked past Battery Park to the Staten Island Ferry, which is a free ride that every tourist seems to do. We viewed lady liberty and the skyline on the return trip and it was okay--especially for the price!

Then we locked up our luggage at the hotel and toured M.'s office. It is a great space and it was good to see her work environment. We found a quiet neighborhood restaurant/bar, Suspenders, where the husband enjoyed a Founder's Breakfast Stout and a burger with fabulous real mashed potatoes while the girls had salad and nachos. We met Romeo, who loves the stouts. I told him I was from Founders country and that they had other good stouts he should try!

Suspenders empty afternoon bar area

After saying goodbye to M. we took a peek in a Brook's Brothers shop and sat for awhile in the new garden area below the WTC Freedom Tower. That is when I snapped the photo (above) of the reflected sun.

With tired legs and city-weary heads, we decided to avoid the rush hour (ha) and get a cab early. We engaged the help of the concierge who snagged a taxi for us. The taxi driver's meter was broken! We had exactly 50 dollars cash between us which he was willing to accept to take us to La Guardia! (It was over $70 with tip when we arrived.) Traffic was horrible and it took well over an hour to get to the airport. But our flight was much later and we had plenty of time. Everything kind of went wrong for us until we actually boarded our flight back (gate changed twice, long walk, long line, no TSA pre-check line--shoes off, arms up scanner, couldn't work the I-pad for ordering dinner, etc.

The plane ride home, however, was fast and smooth. We were glad to return to the quiet comforts of home, as always. The only damage done (with all the ups and downs ... besides a little cash expended) was that the husband left his Kindle on the airplane and is not sure if he will ever get it back. It did not have any identification on it, sadly.

My photos were taken with my brand new Samsung S9. Can you tell any difference? I didn't edit much!

Every new building reflects--this one taken into the Oculus!

The Morning After (Book Club and Spring Snow)

Book Club - set up for 13. (I was going to stay in the kitchen or something.)

Whew! I survived another book club event.

I couldn't get to sleep last night after all the stress of the evening, so after some TV time I played a few lightning rounds with WWF (in bed) trying to bore myself into slumber ... but that game is actually fast and stimulating!

 But it's all good. It's over for another year. Next year: Pizza. Delivered!

If you had to host 14 non-family members for dinner, wouldn't you stress just a little?  Not everything was perfectly executed, but the food was good and the husband-led discussion was interesting enough. They were all gracious ... but they always are. I have to believe things are tasty and that the book is interesting, and then my conscience is clear. Actually, one couple cancelled on the day of. I took one of those mid-century Danish teak Eva chairs out of the above photo, and there was room for all. Actually, the cancellation was a permanent one, and we are back to an even dozen.

All events and church services were cancelled on the morning of book club, due to icy roads, but by afternoon the ice and snow had turned to slush and a snow plow or two had come roaring down our street. 250,000 homes in Michigan lost electricity, but this time we were spared!

I had moved almost all the over-wintering plants from the sun room. (It is my greenhouse!) I hope they survive in the cold garage for a month until they can be set outside again. M. picked up her Boston fern that I "babysat" for 7 weeks while she gallivanted around in warmer climes. I thought it might freeze in the garage with the "spring" storm descending upon us and urged her to pick it up.

Also, I had Modernistic shampoo the carpets. The old Berber was surprisingly well revived with the 220+ degree steam extraction, except for a couple of deep old spots. It desperately needed to be cleaned and this was a good time for a spring cleaning, even if it was just before a slush storm.

E. wanted to make shepherd's pie. We ended up making massive amounts--and have delicious leftovers. The peeling, boiling and smashing of the potatoes late afternoon was the messiest part. The sauce had been fried (3-1/2 pounds of ground beef) and simmered in a big pot for a few hours on Saturday night, and had been set in the cold garage overnight, to be heated again before assembly. I made a simple Caesar salad and bought two very special pies (cherry berry and rhubarb/peach), served with vanilla ice cream.

The husband was good for something. He re-read the book, tidied his TV table, peeled 15 pounds of potatoes--flinging the peelings onto an old bath towel on the floor (while watching the golf tournament), and agreed to take his shoes off in the entryway! I will compost the potato peelings (still towel-wrapped in the garage) as soon as the SNOW MELTS IN THE BACKYARD.

Yes, it was the husband's turn to pick a book. He chose an old classic, by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Our yellowed copy was published in 1963. I don't know when it was written, but not until Khrushchev's time was it allowed out of the country. Three out of 12 clubbers, surprisingly, had studied Russian history in college and knew something of the Stalinist regime that led to the formation of the work camps, which the author himself survived for 8 years, providing him with the knowledge needed to write about, with excruciating detail, all the atrocities of that one single day in the life of Ivan. Several clubbers said that every time they read the book they felt chilled. I know I would not have survived that camp. I probably would have given up in one day (the first day!), curling up in a snowbank for a long cold sleep.

Anyway, as I type, the third and final load of dishes is quietly sloshing in my Bosch. I am attempting to keep the house tidy for at least one day. The husband asked if he still had to remove his shoes for another day. I said, yes, UNTIL THIS "WINTER" SNOW MELTS!

Two Major Events

Without getting into all the personal details, the husband and I attended a funeral in Minnesota last week, connecting with a small family group on my side of the family. It was a sad time of loss for the St. Paul contingent of the family and we were glad that we had the time to drive the distance to be with them in a show of love and support.

Overnighting in Naperville with the husband's sister, twice, still left a long, cold journey. Even with sunny skies, the temperature on Friday--the day of the funeral--never rose out of the frozen twenties.

In stark contrast, the weather for the Masters tournament at Augusta National Golf Club looked perfectly lovely.

Yes, it was also the week of the Masters, a favorite of golf aficionados. I would love to go to the tournament one day--if I could get tickets and afford it--if nothing else to see the glorious azaleas and immaculately manicured grounds. The husband managed to catch most of this important golf tournament (and the first of the 4 majors) with replays and DVR'd recordings. The event was on at the hotel bar where I enjoyed a brisket sandwich, sweet potato fries and half a pint of a local (Dead Poet) stout before the visitation Thursday evening. We watched the final tense moments of the tournament here at home with the three of us on Sunday evening.

Look how colorful the azaleas, spring-green grass fairways, brown pine mulch, white sand traps and blue skies appear on the television screen!

Our favorite, Spieth, was leading on the board in this shot, but in the end Patrick Reed was the one to win the green jacket--and that was okay, since Jordan Spieth already has one!

Speaking of immaculate (I only recently learned what the immaculate conception really refers too!), the funeral was held in a beautiful long-established Catholic church. The sanctuary had been newly built at some point and was large and impressive, adorned with many stained glass windows, etc.

We are unfamiliar with the "Mass of Christian Burial" and participated as best we could. I knew some of the sung responses and hymns. We (6 of us traveling family members, sitting in the back) were invited, but chose not to go forward to receive even a blessing only (to be signaled with crossed arms) as everyone else went forward to receive the wafer (host), which becomes the real body of Christ as it is consecrated and elevated for all to see, according to Catholic doctrines. The careful ritual after the distribution was interesting to observe. And I confess (not formally!) that I have no clue about the smoke (incense presumably), or even what you call that bit of mystery which was part of the Mass.

As Reformation Christians, we do not have much interest in or opportunity to attend any kind of mass. But the dignity of this service, the use of Scriptural readings, a personalized homily, the lovely music, and the use of organ and cantor made for a meaningful time of worship and remembrance. The excellent singing of Ave Maria by the church cantor was touching, and even tearful for some.

Our local (Protestant) church has mostly abandoned hymnals for screens, the old hymns of the faith for praise songs, the organ for a "band" and has "lead singers" (with loud microphones) in place of choir or cantor.

This Catholic church still had wooden hymn boards, with hymn numbers, ready for the next service. Hymn boards already seem quaint to me. I have one hanging in my house, now an antique, found by daughter R. in a Presbyterian church in Pennsylvania, as I recall.

In many ways my church has accommodated to the culture in ways that this Catholic church has not. They even had an Italian-born priest, with an obvious accent. How authentic is that?

On the way home the husband mentioned a very recent article from First Things magazine entitled "A Tradition Unlike Any Other." Comparisons are made between the vigorously controlled traditions of the Augusta National Golf Club and the acquiescence of the (Catholic) church to societal and cultural pressures. I was intrigued and found the article on-line when I got home.

And besides, I thought I could glean something that could possibly tie these two events from last week together (in a more important way than by contrasting temperatures) in one post! (A favorite device of mine--as in my recent post on Demons and Saints, a theme which allowed me to talk about totally disparate things--like my early affection for pigs on the farm and what the recently deceased Rev. Billy Graham might be doing now in heaven!)

The Augusta National has always strictly controlled (not only the immaculate grooming) but its membership, its television coverage and its advertisers. I also learned from the magazine article that it was not until the 80's that the tradition of employing all black caddies in all white jumpsuits for the Masters ended. I noticed that they still use the (ugly) white jumpsuits! They only recently allowed a few women to join, including Condoleeza Rice.

But most of  the regulations and traditions have continued, uncompromised, throughout the years. Augusta National remains a revered and respected golf course and tournament--perhaps the greatest of the four majors.

What if the church remained true to its long traditions, protecting those practices as rigorously as the Augusta National Golf Club has?

Perhaps then the church would be more respected! Perhaps it would not have been abandoned by today's younger generation. Perhaps it would be more attractive in its distinction from "the world" ... if only it followed "The Master" with more reverence and dignity.

Interestingly, from my brief visit, it would seem that the church I visited in St. Paul has held on to much of its rich tradition.

Well, of course the Mass was not in Latin...and we were allowed to sing--a lot! 

(For example, we sang "On Eagle's Wings" which was written by a priest from the St. Paul community in the late seventies and is a favorite at Catholic funeral masses, as well as making its way into many other church traditions.)

We can only hope that the Christian church in all its manifestations--like the Augusta National Golf Club--will find success in holding on to something of that which is good and traditional.

I recommend taking a look at the article mentioned above. It is currently available without a subscription to First Things. I did not use any of the specific language or points made. These reflections are mostly my own. You will find it to be a thoughtful and well-written piece (better than mine!), with many astute response comments as well.

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And yes, as always, I photograph food and flowers. The food was tasty (and the service excellent) at the Minneapolis Four Points Sheraton. (We used some Starwood points.)

And the funeral flowers were abundant and gorgeous:

Hot apple pie and creamy vanilla (we split it!) ... good enough to be my last meal of choice before my execution, lol.

Some of my favorite flowers and flower colors. So pretty!