About to leave home, find home . . .

We're finally almost out of Oak Park.  It's been a long journey to here from May, 2012 when we became homeless.  We're leaving Oak Park tomorrow, for real, with our stuff. Not to be traveling, but to be resettling, re-finding and redefining home -- and it's exciting, difficult, bittersweet.  I hope you all know how much we've loved being part of your lives, having you be part of ours, and hope you will look us up when in the Portland area.

Steve, forced to pose in front of our tightly packed storage space.  Another one in the city is full of grandmother stuff.  

As I write, I'm sitting in our odd little airbnb kitchen in Mont Clare; Steve's about 12' away, in front of a huge TV (52"), watching The Walking Dead, and so pleased to be doing that. We have never had a TV this big, frequently no TV in English over these 18 months, and it's pretty surreal for me, sweet for him to have it right now, with these undead folks in the living room.

It's been a delightful couple weeks, lots of work organizing and packing in Chicago/Oak Park. They've gone so fast, with far too little opportunity to see folks we love, although we've been lucky enough to connect with a few. 

We've had odd stolen chances to say goodbye to some of our favorite spots while on other errands -- Volo Bog, Garfield Park Conservatory, beautiful bits of Chicago and Chinatown, the Library, etc. The Library was really hard for me --  a vestige of home, love, at this point.

We have loved these 3 decades in Oak Park!  And loved all of you who have made it so special.  Oh!  How we will miss you all!

Volo Bog and its lovely vibrant life.  

The winterberry (red) at Volo is amazing right now.

Overlooking the center of the bog -- the last remaining bit of the quaking bog - soo cool.  I love this place.

The path through the bog.  If you haven't been, this is a great time to go -- often
Sand hill Cranes are there, passing through this time of year.  

Saying goodbye to the MCA.

Saying goodbye to the Monet Garden at Garfield Park Conservatory.  

Many friends have asked for some coverage of Gen and Sara's wedding -- here are a few of my photos.

Gen (left) and Sara, before the actual ceremony, at the Queens Farm Museum, a really cool working farm, an astounding bit of functioning rural, in NYC.

Sara, Gen.

Ross and John, with Gen's (clerkship) judge, just behind and to the left of  Ross, about to start the ceremony. 

Ross and Elizabeth.

The beautiful cake topper made by my artist sister. 

After the wedding, there was a weekend/weeklong celebration in a big rental home in Bay Head, NJ. So much fun. Sigh. Here are the newlyweds, with family, about to leave for their sloth-viewing honeymoon in Costa Rica.

And John and Steve on the beach, later.  

The new rented place in Portland is compelling, with its legion of built-ins encouraging and allowing for long-term organization, something we've both seriously missed.  We began the stuff sorting and packing phase while in the big house 5 years ago and it'll be a little like a birthday, opening the boxes packed then, discovering the mysteries inside. Our first official use of our new permanent address was to join the Friends of the Multnomah County Library.

Just one of the basement rooms with cupboards, cabinets. 

More basement storage.

Panoramic of upstairs study storage space.  These people were somewhat OCD, and we reap the benefits.  

We have lots of room for company in this great little house.  We hope you'll give us a call when you're in the area.

It's over . . .

Our travel chapter is about to end.  We're in Turkey for one final night, with great sighs of delight, looking backwards and forwards.  This entry has been hurriedly done -- sorry if it's disjointed.

We'll be in NYC for a week, then the Chicago area (and MSP and Evansville) before heading back to NYC for Gen's mid-September nuptials, then off to Portland to find "home"; it is great to be thinking about long-term lodging for a change, to be settling down after this gypsy life.

Turkey has been fascinating, lovely, delicious. I'm hoping we can get around to more on Turkey --it richly deserves it, but time's getting weird and short. The ruins, the cities, the Aegean sail - it's an amazing country in our limited travels here, and great fun.  As always, picture books on Turkey would do the real Turkish sights far better justice than we could.

Because a couple of you have asked, yes -- Taksim Square was slightly dangerous and exciting, clearly lots still going on there.  More on that another time.

Here are other kinds of Turkish delights:

This is Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the father of current Turkey, a much revered guy whose image appears everywhere.

Mosques are fascinating and quite similar. Our entire time in Turkey has been during Ramadan, which is a very different undertaking during the hot, hot summer than in the winter.  Anyone can go into the mosques when prayers aren't ongoing, but all leave their shoes outside, women must be covered head to toe (and they'll make sure and help you with that), men can't be in shorts, there are places as a woman, as an infidel, to be and not to be.  As I write, there's a call to prayer going on, happens 5 times a day from a minaret over the loudspeaker.  Ramadan adds a call that it's time to eat (sunset, finally), and the excitement of a drummer coming around town at about 3AM, drumming observant Muslims awake to be sure they eat before sunrise.  Loud, sometimes almost New Orleans-y beat, highly effective awakener.

This is how the shoes of the faithful appear outside the mosques.

These are domes in Istanbul's Blue Mosque. Tiles, painted ceilings.  Low-hung lights are typical.

There are lots of cats in Turkey.  Lots!  Dogs, too, but the cats are everywhere, wandering, hanging out, sleeping, cats in churches and mosques, cats in restaurants, the trams have cats, hotels have cats, they're everywhere.   They're the gamut from indifferent to friendly to reserved to frightened.

Family in a park.  The babies are almost as big as the mum.

This one lives in a tram station.

Very typical Turkish Van cat coloring.  

The Basilica Cistern in Istanbul.  It was a Byzantine water storage area (held 80K cubic meters of water), and lay forgotten for over 10 centuries.  An absolute delight on a beastly hot summer day.
Can't believe it's not been used as a movie set.

Typical turkish dinner food -- clockwise:  chicken shishkebab with potatoes, spicy beans, veges in olive oil, kebab with potatoes and peppers.  Below, street food of the gods: fried dough soaked in diluted honey, pistachio
shavings on top.  Served warm.  Better than Krispy Kremes -- divine.

Stained glass window in a mausoleum, unbelievable brilliance from beveled glass pieces, typical in Istanbul.

Istanbul water hydrants resemble whirling dervishes.

We saw these brooms in much of western Turkey - highly functional and lovely.  

The standard Turkish toilet has a built in bottom washer (the dark spot in back).  It sprays water, so that clean up is just patting dry.  Nice.  It's definitely more fully functional and easier to use than the standard bidet, but somewhat less luxurious than a fancy Japanese toilet.

We had a little excitement on our trip to Izmir -- our train struck a truck on the tracks.  Neither fared well from the incident.  All passengers were evacuated, and the train went to the hospital, as did the truck and a field worker.

These photos are bad -- the afternoon light was a problem -- but I loved seeing the high fashion offerings replete with modest head coverings.  These were busy stores.

Circumcision (male) is an event in Turkey.  It, and military service, are two big passages into manhood.  It is usually done when a boy is 5-11, and includes a big party -- it's a big deal, and a joyous occasion. The boy anticipating the experience wears a traditional circumcision suit -- see the photos below. There are whole shops devoted to outfitting young boys in these special feathered, crowned, caped outfits.   Read more about it here, if you're interested. 

In an extra fancy shop we even saw feathered boots.

So . . . this travel chapter is over.  We may continue to post occasionally as we reminisce and process, and if you're interested, you're probably better off signing up for email delivery (top right of the blog) because it will likely be fallow for long periods of time.   Thanks for being with us for this journey.

Scottish bits and bobs

The entrance to the men's and women's loos at the Scottish National Museum of Contemporary Art.

We're in Istanbul at the moment, poised to leave for a catamaran sail on the Aegean with friends, and in two weeks we'll be back in the states.  Done with this chapter.  Very odd, very wonderful thought:  settling down.  There's precious little time for anything on this Turkish leg of travels, but here are a few Scottish bits and bobs somewhat organized last week.

Beautiful caterpillar near the SW coast of Scotland.

This is one huge leaf, in a botanical garden on the Isle of Arran.  Weird place for this tropical plant.

These golden evergreen shrubs were in the same botanical garden. 

Scotland's native squirrel, red with lovely tufted ears.  It's being killed off by a virus carried by the introduced American gray squirrel.

These two barn owlets are visible by live cam at http://bit.ly/1bmYIC4  if you're interested.  They were adorable, in SW Scotland at a RSPB bird sanctuary.  

The Scots truly love their national dish haggis (recipe includes sheep's pluck, oatmeal, lard, and onions, usually in a sheep's stomach).  And their black (blood) pudding.  We tried, and tried, and didn't learn to appreciate either.  They say that haggis has huge regional differences; perhaps, but they all start out on the same taste note, which appears to be an acquired taste.  On the other hand, their kippers, their smoked haddock and other fish, their porridge and ale, their soups, puddings (desserts) and pies were outstanding.  Great food in Scotland.  And some strange.

Haggis in intestinal bag balls in front.

Didn't try it.

I asked a Scotwoman we got to know, and this wording doesn't carry the same load it does in the US.
Didn't try the dish. 

Steve, rubbing the toe of philosopher Hume for luck, right near the National Library of Scotland.

The white mound, behind Steve and to the left in the top picture and enlarged just above, is Bass Rock, the home of the largest Atlantic Gannet colony in the world (or so they say).  Over 150K breed there.  They and their poo are what makes it white.  As you can tell, the water was too rough for us to take the boat out to see them.  Whaaat?  True - they cancelled the boat trip out to see the gannets due to rough water at the harbor entrance, much to our disappointment.

At the same broad beach ( in North Berwick, on the coast SE of Edinburgh) there was this cool man made tidal pool - washed out twice a day by the sea, very nice.

This was nice to see.  And a surprise.

And on the other side, the Scots were out there with their witch torturing and confession producing thumb screws from the 1600s;  for those of us who've hammered our thumbs, the efficacy is obvious.  These below, from a wide collection of torture devices/witch producers at the National Museum of Scotland.

These Scottish chimney pots were pretty adorable.

Street performers in Edinburgh.  The piper played only the pipes.  The guy on the left was playing a banjo when I first got there.  Lovely combination of instruments

This sculpture in the Scottish National Museum of Contemporary Art was fragrant.  Each "leg" of porous stretchy soft material was filled with a different spice, softly re-arrangeable, fragrant.

We went to a cielidh while in Edinburgh -- dancing to local live music.  Loved the skirts flying -- most of which were kilts on menfolk.  Lots of casual energy and fun.  

Musicians on break.  

We met lots of goats -- many sort of scary.

"Dr. Livingston, I presume" lived for awhile three doors down from our place in
Inverkeithing, a royal burgh just outside of Edinburgh.