Hey folks! I sure have missed sharing my life with you these past few weeks. But no fear! Barbara In New York is here!
www.barbarainnewyork.tumblr.com
Hope you enjoy!
So I’ve been back in NYC for two days now and although in many ways it feels like I never left, I am still adjusting. I thought I’d sort of do a wrap-up of the summer. You know, put a nice little bow on the blog. What follows is a list of just a few of the wonderful things I did this summer:
started a blog
went to a rodeo for the first time
turned off my cell phone for four months
got a cowboy hat
saved enough money to live off of during my fist year of grad school
read nearly every book on my summer reading list (and I still have a week)
met artist Stephen Hannock
saw a Peregrine Falcon flying off of Artist’s Point in Yellowstone
explored
flossed nearly every day
mastered batching in Raiser’s Edge
learned how to fly fish
grew THREE tomato plants
kept my sanity while living with my parents
survived a hailstorm
helped my Dad build a fabulous deck off the back of the house
rode my bike to work almost every day
beat my Mom at Scrabble
got to see some incredible rarely viewed objects in the BBHC’s collection
shook hands with Wilford Brimley
climbed Heart Mountain
was stung by a centipede
developed a deep and lasting love of the American West
I haven’t really decided whether to continue the blog or not. It seems a little silly to have a blog called “Barbara In Wyoming” when I am, in fact, in New York City. Maybe next week I’ll start one called “Barbara In Grad School.” Only time will tell. But if you’re reading this, thank you. Imagining a reader somewhere out in the world is the best antidote to no-phone-loneliness I have yet discovered. You’re the best!
My last day of work was Saturday so as a kind of last hurrah before returning to New York, Mom and Dad drove me up the “Beartooth All American Road” which is lauded as the #1 Most Scenic Road in the rockies. http://www.beartoothhighway.com/
According to the official Beartooth Website: The Beartooth All-American Road passes through The Beartooth Corridor. It is one of the highest and most rugged areas in the lower 48 states, with 20 peaks reaching over 12,000 feet in elevation. In the surrounding mountains, glaciers are found on the north flank of nearly every mountain peak over 11,500 feet high. The Road itself is the highest elevation highway in Wyoming (10,947 feet) and Montana (10,350 feet), and is the highest elevation highway in the Northern Rockies.
It was absolutely breath-taking. I could see hundreds of miles off into the Big Horn Basin. Walking around the high mountain meadows, I felt like Heidi in the Swiss Alps. All I needed was a dirndl, braids, and a goat.
So Yesterday, after Mom and Dad and I made it up the Bear Tooth Highway and into Red Lodge, MT, we had lunch and walked around downtown. Glancing down a side street, I spotted the architectural polar bear above.
As I approached the building, I saw an unmistakable structural component that made my heart skip a beat— a fly loft. After a careful examination of its kitsch Neo-Grecian facade, Dad identified the Comedy/Tragedy Masks and set off round the back to find the stage door.
Success! If I had money, I’d buy this old theater and start a company. I’m thinking of naming it the Red Lodge Experimental Shakespeare Machine. Mom thinks we’d be a big hit with the farmers and cowboys, don’t you?
A few people have been bugging me for some updated photos of the deck. It looks great! Next to some of Mom’s planters, you can also see a couple of the thriving tomato plants I sprouted back in May. woo!
BUNNIES. DONE.
Sorry for not having posted in a while. At this point, I am ready to be back home in New York and am afraid that I am neglecting some of my Wyoming duties. BUT you can look forward to updated pictures of The Deck and BABY BUNNIES!!!
Forgive me?
So Monday morning I awoke from a particularly perverse dream at 5am with a sharp pain in my shoulder. I thought I had just been putting odd pressure on it—I thought I had slept on my shoulder wrong. Remaining in bed for some moments, I enjoyed the warmth of the sheets and was beginning to analyze my dream until I felt the distinct and repulsive sensation of something crawling down my torso. In one lightning, fluid motion I threw off the bedclothes and jumped out of bed, having seen an inch and a half long centipede scurrying furiously for the cover of the rumpled blankets. Without thinking, I grabbed a nearby plastic container (empty) and captured the beast. Thorough examination in the bathroom confirmed my suspicion that the little monster had been the cause of my shoulder pain; the Centipede had stung me. Half an hour of Google searches later assured me that I would survive. My tormentor, however, would not.
Those of you who follow the news will be aware that a pair of escaped convicts and their female accomplice made a stop in Yellowstone after murdering a couple in New Mexico. One of them was apprehended a mere half-hour from my house in Meeteetse, Wyoming (a.k.a. the place I go fly fishing). I got up on Tuesday and saw on the Today Show that one of their reporters was just a few blocks away outside of the Park County jail where the former escapee was being held. Surreal.
Today I met up with BBHC Events coordinator, Jill, to go down to the studio of furniture artist John Gallis (http://www.norsemandesignswest.com/). There is an oddly large contingent of “Western Rustic” furniture-makers here in Park County, maybe 20 or more but Gallis’ work is my favorite (although HE refers to his work as “Western Refined”). Full disclosure: Gallis made the desk I sit at on the weekends at the BBHC so I might be a bit biased. At the front of his barn-sized studio, there is a furniture-packed show room displaying sensuously hand carved desks and loveseats, a $19,000 Molesworth-style chair, and more. But each piece is impeccably finished with fine details like hidden pullout desk leaves and custom horn drawer pulls. I was astounded by the quality of each piece; they were flawless. I guess I am just too used to mass-produced low-quality IKEA furniture. All of Gallis’ pieces are one of a kind, showcasing the individuality and natural grains and knots of the wood. And more remarkable still was hearing Mr. Gallis talk about each piece as though they were his children. He actually said, “I never feel like someone buys my furniture. Its more of an adoption, a permanent loan.” If I had to choose someone to embody the archetype of the down-to-earth passionate craftsman, it would be Gallis. Honestly, I’ve read about people like him in idealistic utopian design writing by John Ruskin and the like. But every design writer in the past 100 years has said that such people do not exist! It was like meeting Goldilocks. And it was fabulous. Gallis leads public furniture-making workshops twice a year and I have vowed to attend one before I die. Jill and I returned to the museum in time to meet Steven Hannock before he gave a talk in front his epic landscape painting “Flooded Canyon, Yellowstone Dawn” which I wrote about shortly after its install in May. Hannock is good friends with some of our family friends and they introduced us. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO FAINT. Hannock’s painting “Oxbow” is one of my favorite pieces at the Met and the hand that painted it SHOOK MY HAND. And not only that, but he was kind enough to tell several stories about “Oxbow” in his presentation after I mentioned that I was a fan. *sigh. If I was twenty years older and single… All in all, a great day. Oh! I am also finishing up my application for A Month at the Museum, a special contest held by the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. Check it out here:
I turned out the bedside lamp and lay in been in bed for five minutes or so when I decided to speed the pleasant transition from wakefulness to sleep by composing a song of the months of the year (it was sort of in the style of Winnie the Pooh who is famous for both getting stuck in Rabbit’s front door after eating too much honey AND making up songs about whatever he liked).
Disturbingly, and without warning or origin, I saw a bright flash of light illuminate the room— like a camera flash outside my window. I bolted awake, terrified and confused as to whether the flash was a dream or a malevolent stranger photographing my window well. I spent another half second thinking that I must have a brain tumor resulting in hallucination before a solid boom of thunder sounded outside, clarifying the correct origin of the unsettling flash.
I am not sure why I continue to find the instance so disconcerting but I am absolutely incapable of going back to sleep. Guess I better finish that song…