Mothers Day/Mr. Darcy’s Birthday

A double celebration: today the tribute to mothers was shared with the dog’s 11th birthday. And where our family’s dog is concerned, this is of equal significance. Celebrated with a trip to the Palisades Farmers Market, brunch on the porch, and a visit to the last day of “Wonder” at the Renwick, a stunning exhibit well worth the long lines. (Mr. Darcy did not attend.)

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CakeBerries2

Celeste

CakeGreen

Uncle Mike

A New Library

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Our local well-loved and popular but shabby post-WWII Cleveland Park Library is destined for replacement, and the project has brought out library-lovers in force, many making specific requests for new features (Quiet study spaces!–Better handicapped access!–Net zero energy use!) and specific requests to keep what is currently beloved (Light, warmth, and coziness!–Wooden shelving and furniture!–Children’s room memorabilia!–Our terrific staff!).

Above all, neighbors overwhelmingly requested A Building Not Like Tenley! (a nearby brand-new library branch modern in style but also regarded as cold, dark, noisy, hard, and uncomfortable). Instead residents hoped for a warm friendly building, whether modern or traditional, compatible with the neighborhood’s 100-year-old farmhouse-style houses and the nearby art-deco theater and apartments. This is looking to be unlikely.

You can see the design concept on the Cleveland Park Library website, where it is drawn considerably better than in my cartoon above.

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Dad

 

Snow, Blessed Snow

A sketch from the studio window, and a poem I post in thanks for this brief interlude of beauty and silence.

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Snow,
blessed snow,
comes out of the sky
like bleached flies.
The ground is no longer naked.
The ground has on its clothes.
The trees poke out of sheets
and each branch wears the sock of God.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
I bite it.
Someone once said:
Don’t bite till you know
if it’s bread or stone.
What I bite is all bread,
rising, yeasty as a cloud.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
Today God gives milk
and I have the pail.

—Anne Sexton

CakeSun

Salome