Our New Home

In need of a little love on Route 178 in Belle Haven, Virginia.

Although we often feel this is all we could afford in any area we desire to live, this is actually a house we passed last weekend when we went on a studio tour of local artists around my sister's shore house in Wachapreague, Virginia. While the roof was caving in, windows were broken and plants had overtaken the interior, the green paint was still in good condition and helped catch our attention as we drove passed. Upon request, my sister turned around so that I could get a photo.

She also entertained me by driving past Liars Corner on the way out of Wachapreague (not that there are many roads in a town with a population of less than 300). This is where, from what I understand, a group of grumpy old men spend their days. Don't know if they weren't around because it was Sunday or the weather was a bit chilly.

Liars Corner

The weather was a bit chilly that weekend, but at least we had lovely sunshine. Sunset in this marshy area is especially beautiful.

The Bastian Ladies at sunset.

More Eastern Shore Gems

Onancock's wreaths acknowledge its dependence on the water.	The puffy coat crew.
Amy & Carolyn outside an artist's studio.	Me and M*
Dinner at North Street Market.	Happy after wine and cheese.
Me toasting the fact that M* enjoys hanging out with the Bastian ladies.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Homemade apple pie—gluten-free and delicious.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I must say, although being semi-homeless is not ideal, it's quite nice to have time to really enjoy the holidays. My mom pre-cooked one of the turkeys, made Moroccan spiced carrots and baked a stuffing yesterday. I made the cornbread and sauteed the onions and celery in copious amounts of butter for a cornbread stuffing, which I'll be baking this afternoon. As my uncle from Florida, who is arriving this morning, and my grandmother will be joining my mom for the ride over to my sister's, we realized that M* and I and all the food will not fit in the car. As the food can't find its way to my sister's on its own, we have to take the Metro over.

To further the holiday spirit, I was going to put on some holiday songs. However, the high today will be 70°, so it just doesn't seem appropriate. I don't have to wait long though, it will be going down to freezing late tonight.

Mom enjoys documenting our time spent with her.

Falling Water

Although it looks like I Photoshopped us in, M* and I really did go to Falling Water.

Last Tuesday M* and I took the two-hour, extended tour of Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water (1935). We also stopped by another Wright house, Kentuck Knob—a deluxe Usonian completed in 1956. Both houses are nestled in the Laurel Highlands of western Pennsylvania and fall within the boundaries of Ohiopyle State Park (well, if not in, then very near). M* and I were as impressed with Falling Water as we'd hoped. Since others know much more about FLW and FW than I, please follow the links above to find out more about the homes. However, I will share four not so known facts:

1) The original owners of FW, Edgar Sr. and Liliane Kaufmann, who commissioned FLW were first cousins.
2) The toilets in FW were extremely low to the ground as Edgar Sr. believed this was good for the colon.
3) A Falling Water map was created for Half-Life 2 (one of M*'s favorite computer games). It is almost an exact copy including some furniture and artwork.
4) The new owner of Kentuck Knob is an English Lord—Lord Peter Polumbo. There are photos of his family all over the house (I'm sure FLW would have hated this as he hated clutter), some of which are of him and Princess Diana.

Here are some photos. Just click on the picture to enlarge.

Falling Water

Falling Water	A little closer now.
Seamless mitered windows.	Tiffany vase.
Kitchen (hated by the cook)	FLW designed furniture.
Me on one of the porches.	Herb garden.
Steps leading down from the living room.	View from the living room.
Another Tiffany gem.	Swinging cauldron.
I really like this statue by a Mexican artist (?? name).	View of the inviting guesthouse.
Unheated, spring pool.	FLW was passionate about Japanese art.
Window joints lined up with the floors.	Postcard view.

Kentuck Knob

FLW began marking his buildings later in his career.	Front of Kentuck Knob.
Porch made from beautiful tidewater red cypress.	FLW designed driveway light.
Me and M*

Confluence, Pennsylvania

When M* and I went up to visit Falling Water, we stayed the night before the tour at a bed and breakfast, Paddler's Lane, in Confluence, PA. The establishment was about seven, mountainous miles away from the Frank Lloyd Wright house. As the sun had recently set when we approached PL and the winding roads were unlit, we decided to drive on straight to PL before finding something to eat. Our urban minds did not entertain the thought that there might not be anywhere to eat–not even as we drove through the dark town square.

Paddler's Lane B&B in the Laurel Highlands borders the Youghiogheny River.

There was no one at the b&b when we found our way down the gravel road between the railroad tracks and a river–just an unlocked door and a note to go on in. When the manager of the b&b returned from his other job at an outdoor store, he had no suggestions of where we could eat unless we wanted to go back down those intimidating roads. He offered us the kitchen if we wanted to cook something ourselves, so we went to find our dinner at the local super market.

Occasionally I've wondered what happened to Steak-umms–frozen, paper-thin 'steak' that we frequently had in our freezer while I was growing up. I must say that I loved the taste and the 60 second cooking time fit into a teenagers schedule. I figured that Steak-umms were a food that had lost their appeal and were no longer available. However, if I was going to find them anywhere, I'm not surprised that I found them in Confluence.

The Steak-umm Company is based in Pennsylvania–so it's local food.

I quickly realized that finding anything gluten-free was out of the questions, so I paired my gluten-free pretzels that I'd brought with us with yogurt, an apple and a can of Progresso soup. M* had a bit squarer of a meal with spinach tortellini, frozen vegetables and red sauce.

Our Confluence dinner.

We returned to the still unlocked b&b (we were told that there was no key for the house, just our rooms), and I perused the selection of movies while M* cooked up his pasta. There were too many Deliverance, Blair Witch Project type movies for my comfort level, and as we were the only guests, we decided to lock all the main doors and just get up early to let the manager in to make us breakfast. As we could see the meager food supplies in the fridge, we were prepared for a limited selection the next morning. I was just happy that we made it safely to that meal.

Frederick, Maryland

M* and I stopped by Frederick, Maryland on our way up to Falling Water. Having been there once before, I thought walking around the quaint, historic downtown and peeking in a few antique stores would be a nice way to spend a couple of hours. Maybe it was M*'s company or because Frederick has blossomed that I found the town more charming than on my last visit. Since M* and I have spent some time in abroad recently, we noticed the European influences. We confirmed our suspicions at the visitors' center where we learned that Germans were the main group founding the town (German was the dominant language in the area in its early days).

“(German immigrants) used art; it was not some esoteric thing apart from them. . . you worked in a colorful barn, lived in a stone house built for the ages with a motto carved under the eaves, ate pie out of an etched pie dish, and other foods cooked in a stove which had artistic original design, kept your linens in a museum-piece chest, dipped sugar out of a museum-piece sugar bowl, skimmed milk from lovely red-ware made on the potter's wheel, walked on rainbow-like rag rugs, slept under artistic bedspreads of original design, drank wine from museum-piece . . . .glass or spatter-ware, had a birth and marriage certificate of hand-illumined fractur [hand decorated manuscripts], sang out of hymn books illumined with fractur and worshipped with bibles similarly illumined. You rode in wagons gaily colored, watched the wind sway originally designed weather-vanes atop the barn, and saw even the barnyard made resplendent by peacocks." - Excerpted from Pennsylvania Dutch Cookery, J.George Frederick, 1936

Amy becomes one with the public art.

Colorful German style homes.

We also found a European ideal in the redevelopment of the downtown area–public space along the canal (that's what M* and I liked to call it as an ode to the Netherlands), mixed with businesses and residential housing. There is even a community bridge mural with an award-winning trompe l'oeil (I'm pictured above with a replica of "The Woman of Samaria").

The Baby Waker.

Frederick's "canal."

We also enjoyed imbibing a bit of American history–things we had both learned before, we're sure, at some point but could not recall or remember with clarity. One item on display is the Great Baby Waker—the cannon that signaled the end of the Revolutionary War. The front of the barrel is what remains after it exploded due to improper loading in 1844. The cannon is next to the Hessian barracks which were a prison for the Hessian soldiers captured during the war (M* and I both thought the Hessians fought on the side of the Americans—oops!). I've just read that the barracks, now a museum that is open on a limited basis to the public, "represents the finest of colonial military architecture in North America." Also, the limestone structure was the largest masonry structure in use by the military at that time. Who knew?!

Hessian barracks/prison.

M @ Tasting Room.

M*'s dessert: cranberry and blueberry bread pudding.

Another reason we liked this town so much was the interesting shops. We actually didn't even make it into the antique stores—though we passed many. We were distracted by the independent clothing and home stores and numerous eating establishments. A friend had recommended the Tasting Room, and we enjoyed a meal there before getting back on the road. The restaurant describes themselves, in the guide handed out at the visitors' center, as "combining the essence of historic Frederick and the modern styles of New York City." Sounds a bit much, but I think it's hard to describe oneself whether a person or business. My polenta with portabella mushrooms and an Italian cheese (can't remember the name) was both delicate and hearty. My glass of Viognier was quite good, although a tad too sweet. M* was please with his rockfish special and loved the high, original ceiling. In general, we found it a very relaxing spot. As they advertise their extensive martini list, I'm guessing it can be a quite a bit busier in the evenings.

As we headed out of town, I searched the visitors' guide to see if there would be a Christmas market in the area this season—Germans are know for their Christmas markets and Frederick was founded by Germans. There is: Maryland Christmas Snow is being held the two weekends after Thanksgiving. We're planning on attending (my mom might take M*'s place on that trip).

Broadkill Beach

An abandoned beach front property along the Delaware Bay in Broadkill Beach–even though the area was once a favorite with squatters, this shack belongs to the lots' legal owner.

M* and I escaped our hectic lifestyle with another trip to the Delmarva Peninsula (Delaware-Maryland-Virginia for those not in the know). We went down to Broadkill Beach where my dad and stepmother have a shore home—a modern shore home outfitted with satellite TV, gourmet kitchen and wi-fi. Broadkill was originally Broad Kiln meaning wide river or wide creek–kiln is a Dutch word, I believe. The area was first settled, after the Native Americans of course, by the Dutch and Swedes.

Fishing is the favorite pastime with the locals.

A relic of the WWII Delaware Bay defense system (not really sure what it's purpose was)

My dad had lured us down there with promises of witnessing the migration of snow geese to their winter resting spot at the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, which just happens to border my dad's backyard. However, the snow geese must have been too busy at Pumpkin Chunkin or looked for shelter away from the remnants of a hurricane that moved through on Friday night. Instead we visited Nassau Valley Winery.

Lena, a Great Dane that thinks she's a lap dog, keeps M* company as he performs a very American activity–relaxing on the couch, watching sports and eating potato chips.

The winery touts its status as Delaware's first and only award winning winery–my dad joked that it's because its the state's only winery. I'm sorry to say that after sampling five of the wines, I had to agree with him. I also agreed with his statement that one feels compelled to buy a bottle of wine at each vineyard that is visited–now in California or France this is something that I'm happy to do. We did try a peach dessert wine that we found to be passable, and my dad, without tasting it first, bought two bottles of chardonnay. Luckily the spicy kabobs he made that night vastly improved the taste of the wine.

M* carried this piece of driftwood quite a ways back to the house. Here, he gladly pauses to take a photo.

The rest of the weekend was spent trawling the aisles of the local grocery store–my dad's favorite pastime, watching TV (sports and the horrible CSI: Miami–my dad's favorite show) and walking on the beach–Sunday was sunny and beautiful. This type of beach living is far more relaxing, I find, than the crowded, traffic clogged Santa Monica area beaches. Granted, one can enjoy warmer temperatures for sunbathing in California, but I prefer to stay white and pasty anyway.