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Category Archives: old haunts

kitty love

08 Wednesday Feb 2017

Posted by home, garden, life in cat, dormant season, old haunts, Past Loves, winter

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cat, dormant season, life, muse, poetry, winter

Have you ever had a cat touch it’s nose to your pencil as you write?

To gently push and force the page adjoining

Rattle ever so gently

In order to push aside, then rub her head on a corner

Stepping around in a tactful way

To lie down just aside the binding

Jolting as if to pounce

From your page it flies

Only to walk up your leg and

Chew on your eraser.

November 1972

Miss Kitty-my muse for eleven years

Miss Kitty ~ my muse for eleven years

Copyright © 2017 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

a day away…

06 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by home, garden, life in old haunts, Quick Trips, Virginia, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, winter

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culture on parade, day out, Virginia, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts

Once I get started, trips away from home begin at a rapid pace.

Two days following my DC/NOVA trip, I was fired up for a day in Richmond, VA. Merely 60ish miles from home, I attended college in this town — before the magnificent, old brownstones in the fan district were razed for the new, contemporary buildings of today. Fond memories of then — not to be recognized today.

at the Richmond Museum of Fine Arts, I paused to photograph this fine staircase. My weakness is stone of any kind and the steel railings are a nice touch

at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, I paused to photograph this fine staircase. My weakness is stone of any kind and the steel railings are a nice touch

ooooh I like...

ooh I like…I’m a cheap date…

as I strolled room by room, centuries and cultures overwhelmed me

as I strolled room by room, centuries, styles, and cultures overwhelmed me

Tiffany lamps by the dozen...the real deal!

Tiffany lamps by the dozen…the real deal!

posters too

posters too

how about this spot for a snooze?

how about this spot for a snooze?

or this for a garden ornament?

or this for a garden ornament?

a Japanese interpretation of the Blue Ridge Mountains...

a Japanese interpretation of the Blue Ridge Mountains…

and TJ's beloved home Monticello

and TJ’s beloved home Monticello

wild swings now...a Faberge egg...most of the vast collection is on tour in China now...boo!

wild swings now…a Faberge egg…most of the vast collection is on tour in China now…boo!

The House of Fabergé is a jewellery firm founded in 1842 in St. Petersburg, Imperial Russia, by Gustav Faberge. Virginia Museum of Fine Arts houses one of the largest collections, er, when it’s not on tour…

Whee! Now a Remington grabs my attention! I have always lusted after a bronze...

Whee! Now a Remington grabs my attention! I have always lusted after a bronze…and a cowboy!

This has to be my all time favorite piece on exhibit...a centuries old teapot...perfect!

This has to be my all time favorite piece on exhibit this day…a centuries old lacquered teapot…perfect! I can only dream of the life it has had…

My college pal and I enjoyed a 70 degree, sunny noon-day lunch on the upper terrace at the museum…out of doors — on the first of December, in central Virginia.  What a pleasant way to manufacture vitamin D. And my lump crab cake over fried green tomatoes and hoppin’ John was tasty too.

Back on the road to home by 3 PM, route 64 was a piece of cake, yet Baby 5 gets lousy gas mileage at 70 MPH. She gets 27 MPG while driving around town between 40 and 50. Go figure.

With today’s temperatures in the 40’s and rain all day, needless to say, it was fun putting these two cheerful blogs together for you. Hope you enjoyed the little tours.

Let me hear from you (via comments and likes) and Happy and Safe Holidays to you and yours!! Cheers!

Copyright © 2014 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

 

Albemarle County ~ steeped in history

08 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by home, garden, life in Historic Properties, old haunts, tourist for a day, Virginia

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Albemarle County, Central Virginia, historic properties, Keswick Hall, Keswick Hunt Club, Michie Tavern, play tourist in your own town

Heading in just about any direction from Swallowtail Cottage, history abounds. Yesterday, with camera in hand, I headed out to an estate sale, east of town. There a grand home awaited my lens. I must confess, I am a house hound, and take every opportunity to peruse private residences in and around Albemarle County, Virginia.

Long boxwood lined drive leading to the early 18th century house Glenmore

long boxwood lined drive leading to the early 18th century house ~ Glenmore

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this garden ornament is rarely seen in modern themes

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Glenmore ~ an elegant early 18th century home. Most of its former land is now an up-scale subdivision

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chores left undone at Glenmore

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rear of house

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a bit wobbly, yet effective winter grid

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Just down the road, the Keswick Hunt Club ~ where my sister held her wedding reception in 1967. A mecca for horsemen where many a wild party was held here over the century and some marriages went astray. Elizabeth Taylor starred in Giant, filmed in part down the hill.

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low key facade at the Hunt Club, yet quite the local draw for huntsmen and their women

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Keswick Hall ~ formerly Keswick Country Club, where I swam as a child. This place has changed hands many times always with dicey drama, including Laura Ashley’s purchase during her hay day.

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another well cared for property in Albemarle County, Virginia. Originally built in the Greek Revival style and run as a tavern following the Civil War, this house served travelers as La Fourche Tavern, a name which remains today.

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no marks on these headstones, yet I was drawn to them on this grey winter day

notice atop this barren tree at the golf course, a lone mockingbird marks her territory against the winter sky

notice atop this barren tree at the golf course, a lone mockingbird marks her territory against the winter sky

this silhouette reminds me of Mary Mockingbird, who resides at Swallowtail Cottage nearing eight years.

this silhouette reminds me of Mary Mockingbird, who resides at Swallowtail Cottage nearing eight years

Further down the road, Michie Tavern rests after being moved across the county

farther down the road, Michie Tavern rests after being moved across the county

 Michie Tavern was built as a residence between 1772 and 1773. It stands as an example of the historic preservation movement in the 1920s. It is also the only tavern in Albemarle County to have an exterior taproom and represents the vernacular form associated with taverns in early Albemarle County.

Michie Tavern was built as a residence between 1772 and 1773. It stands as an example of the historic preservation movement in the 1920s. It is also the only tavern in Albemarle County to have an exterior taproom and represents the vernacular form associated with taverns in early Albemarle County.

unique exterior taproom

unique exterior taproom

have a pint...

have a pint…

circa 1797, the Meadow Run Grist Mill rests nearby

circa 1797, the Meadow Run Grist Mill rests nearby following relocation and restoration

The water wheel still in operation

the water wheel is still in motion

Jen offered tales of personal encounters with entities in the tavern

Jen offered tales of personal encounters with entities in the tavern…hmmm

notice the chestnut boards in this reconstructed building on Michie Tavern grounds

notice the ancient chestnut boards in this reconstructed building on Michie Tavern grounds

the real deal for sale in the Metal Smith shop

the real deal for sale in the Metal Smith shop

interior shots from the Tavern

interior shot in the Tavern

many a meal was produced at this hearth

many a meal was produced at this hearth in the Keeping Hall

keeping room mantle dressed for Yuletide

Keeping Hall mantle dressed for Yuletide

detail of mantel decor in keeping room

detail of mantel decor in Keeping Hall

dough box ready for Yuletide

dough box ready for Yuletide

the upper ballroom at Michie Tavern

the upper ballroom at Michie Tavern

bed chamber

bed chamber

outside "The Necessary" offers various sizes, including one for small bottoms

outside “The Necessary” offers various sizes, including one for small bottoms

a hilarious note for 18th century guests...

a hilarious note for 18th century guests…

is that a cob up your butt? Ouch, ouch, ouch. Where is the Quilted Northern when you need it?

is that a cob up your butt? Ouch, ouch, ouch. Where is the Quilted Northern when you need it?

could not resist  posting this provenance

could not resist posting this provenance

perched on a high hillside, Michie Tavern has multiple rooflines

perched on a high hillside, Michie Tavern has multiple roof lines

and many steps traversing the hillside

and many steps traversing the hillside

illuminated stairs during Yultide

illuminated stairs during Yuletide

is this a ghost?

is this a ghost?

just next door, atop Carter's Mountain a two-hundred acre orchard draws miles of traffic each year. This day I was one of two visitors, amen.

just next door, atop Carter’s Mountain a two-hundred acre orchard draws miles of traffic each year. This day I was one of two visitors, amen.

end of this day with a glimpse of Charlottesville below

end of this day with a glimpse of Charlottesville below

Although I have resided in Albemarle County on-and-off for over thirty years, playing tourist for an afternoon never fails to produce fine visual, architectural, and flavorful memories. http://www.michietavern.com

Copyright © 2013 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

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the cinnamon jar

14 Thursday Feb 2013

Posted by home, garden, life in blessings, dreaming, home, Lifestyle, old haunts, Past Loves

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Tags

blessings, childhood memories, happy valentine, lifestyle, memorable snacks, time of innocence, Valentine's Day, virginia countryside

Slightly dented, this little glass jar holds more than sugar and cinnamon.
It was part of my childhood, eagerly sought after school to add sweetness to buttery toast following the end of a long school day. This little jar waited in my mother’s kitchen cabinet for decades, quietly, still full of sweetness, until it became part of my household upon her death in 1995.

I drifted from this childhood ritual, yet recently found this little jar, still waiting quietly in the cupboard, ready to deliver me back to my mother’s cedar paneled kitchen and our seventeen-acre horse farm. Merely a glimpse transports me to a simple, fine time of innocence.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Copyright © 2013 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

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Juxtaposition

01 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by home, garden, life in landscape design, Lifestyle, old haunts, Pentagon Memorial, sustainable lifestyle

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

contrast, garden, home, life, lyfestyle, Pentagon Memorial, rural images, Smithsonian Institution, Virginia

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US Capitol ~ national monument

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rural monument

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National Cathedral spires

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farm weathervane

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Smithsonian fountain

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Albemarle county creek bed

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Smithsonian relic

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a newly emerged monarch butterfly

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Whole Foods Market ~ Tenleytown

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home made local grape galette

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Smithsonian Sculpture Garden tree

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Free Union, VA oak

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view from the bus, DC

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view from the fence, Louisa county, VA

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Pentagon Memorial

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humble memorial

Copyright © 2012 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

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the thing about repose

26 Thursday Jan 2012

Posted by home, garden, life in old haunts, winter

≈ 6 Comments

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Albemarle County, barns, Virginia farming

This time of year, the Virginia countryside delivers exceptional views of times past.

When dormancy prevails in the landscape, the abandoned and forsaken rise up and speak to whomever will listen.

Grandeur resides amongst these crumbling jewels. For generations these buildings provided the backbone of farming endeavors.

Today I honor these keystones of the Virginia farming effort whilst roaming pastures of unparalleled magnificence.

Copyright © 2012 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

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the thing about old haunts

14 Friday Oct 2011

Posted by home, garden, life in blessings, life, old haunts, sustainable lifestyle

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old haunts, Pentagon, Pentagon City Mall, Washington DC, Washington National Cathedral, Whole Foods Market

One day this month, I snuck away with a gal pal and headed back to an old haunt, Washington, DC, where I lived and worked for sixteen years.

I left Northern Virginia in 2000, when the hub-bub became intolerable. Having lived in a sleepy foothills hamlet for the past decade, a neighbor and I decided on an itinerary that included the Washington National Cathedral, The Smithsonian, and the Pentagon Memorial. I have fond memories of the National Cathedral, as it was entirely comforting following my mother’s death. The Smithsonian never fails to educate and entertain, and the Pentagon Memorial was a must see for the first time since 9-11.

Although we drove up in driving rain, the clouds parted when we reached the Metro station in Vienna.

Parking was simple, once we located the place, and although we did not receive a parking ticket upon arrival, we were assured by a Metro employee, that we would get one at departure. Oh blind faith. We hopped the next train into DC—first stop, the Washington National Cathedral.

One person we trusted as a seasoned commuter, directed us onto one train. While on the platform at Metro Center, a beautifully dressed male (reformed lawyer/lobbyist/now professor) chatted up my companion, and HE revealed that we were about to board the WRONG train. Tenleytown was where we needed to go. OK! Although I was thoroughly convinced that this lawyer/professor (with a wedding ring) wanted my companion’s number, we sweetly thanked him and departed before matters became embarassing.

At a run, down the stairs we flew, and up the other side just in time to zip on to Northwest DC.

A lot of walking in DC. The Cathedral was a mile away from the metro station, yet fortunately there was a Whole Foods Market just across the street, where we found cool drinks and a pit stop. This store is quite a change from our pretty WFM in Charlottesville.

The next challenge took us south on foot to look for a metro bus, which would save time and leather. We assumed that the all-day Metro passes would work on the metro busses, and thankfully the first driver waived us on when we showed him our train passes.

We were well on our way, in mild weather, to see the sights. The transportation was clean, the passengers pleasant, and the views impressive.

Feeling like travel pros, we reached our stop and hopped off the bus. The streets are WIDE in DC, and across the mighty artery stood the mightier Cathedral.

I was excited to once again experience the awe of its interior. Alas, that 6.0 earthquake in Central Virginia on August 23, left the Cathedral spires in shards and pieces. The entire building was enclosed in chain link fence…closed to visitors! Rats!!

While I hoped that we were seeing things in time-lapse, we waited for divine intervention. None came. So we watched and photographed each other, the broken building, and the brave men who walk…

the edges from defying heights. Gasp! All the king’s horses and all the king’s men will be needed to put this together again! How sad!

It took generations of master craftsmen from around the world to complete this masterpiece, and only seconds for Mother Nature’s wrath to dismantle the crown of glory. My old haunt visit must wait until another time.

On to the Smithsonian. The next bus driver—a woman—refused to accept our Metro train passes, so while we stood fumbling for money, she also failed to tell us that no change is given on the bus line. While we could have fiddled endlessly for exact change, I shoved a large bill into the kiosk, only to learn that I had made a handsome donation to the DC bus system. The stoic bus-woman never flinched, tainting what so far was a quite pleasant journey.

So be it.

This ride took some time as we wound around Georgetown and past the White House.

Fellow travelers/locals became more animated and talkative. Soon we were chatting like chums to each other about the equally damaged Washington Monument (cracked), signs of the times, and how DC has changed in recent decades. TT and I both received copies of The Examiner Washington from ethnic men eager to share.

When our feet finally touched terra firma, I was quickly reminded how far apart streets are in order to accommodate the huge buildings of this fine city. Destinations are not reached quickly while on foot. I felt dwarfed, yet determined to accomplish our itinerary in the remaining few hours.

One of my favorite museums is the National Gallery of Art, East Building. My favorite painting hangs there—and we needed lunch.

We shot across the elegant main floor of the West Building, through the Rotunda and East Garden Court, then descended to the concourse level where we found end-of-day offerings in the cafe. Pass. Another jaunt through the West Building Shop brought us to the Underground Walkway where standing motion was dazzling.

Alexander Calder’s brilliant mobile remains an old friend, constant and reassuring.

The memorable Zen garden, on the Upper Level, was replaced by ghastly piles of Buckingham, Virginia slate sporting the dirtiest windows in Washington. Totally uninspiring…

NGA bring back the Zen Garden!

I discovered this in the sculpture garden and LOVE, LOVE it.

Another long hoof (where are the horses when we really need them?) and we arrived at the American History Museum where this vegetarian demanded a photo.

Rich in diversity, this city, these museums, and its people invite the tourist to return over a lifetime, again and again.

Our final leg took us into Virginia to pay homage to the lost at the Pentagon. There the images were so powerful, I composed a separate blog entitled the thing about the Pentagon Memorial. Check the link in the category column, left side of this blog.

This tunnel provided the solemn stroll necessary to process the Pentagon Memorial’s impact. Accompanied by Pentagon employees returning home, we headed for a quick visit to the shopping mall and dinner.

When I lived in Arlington, places like this beckoned me regularly. As I walked here this day, I felt repulsed and wanted nothing.

When visiting a shoe store seeking slippers, I was told that nothing in the store was made in the USA.

The store next to it sold expensive infant clothing, and again, NOTHING WAS MADE IN THE USA!

Politics aside, I simply wonder what American consumers are thinking (or not) when purchasing high dollar retail items.

At least this kiosk offered fascinators made in the USA. A lovely Korean saleswoman arranged TT’s hair and coaxed a sale.

THEN we were off to find a memorable meal.

Directed to Pentagon Row, we walked through the parking deck, descended decrepid steps, ascended decrepid steps, to find an Irish Pub at the corner. The Guinness on tap was pure perfection—silk in a glass—

so following a mediocre fish and chips meal (one order shared), we opted to split another Guinness for dessert.

I think I could have stayed all night with another pint, yet the pitch of this popular joint was deafening and we gals needed to retrieve the car in Vienna and drive 200 miles home.

Therefore, we returned to the metro at Pentagon City, found the train to Vienna, and rode a packed commuter train into the suburbs.

The time was now 7:30 PM and both the train and interstate were jammed.

I asked one woman, what time she had to be back on the train the next day, and she answered, “8 AM.” When I asked her what kind of home/family life commuters had, she replied, ” I am single, so home life does not matter. I get home, go to sleep, and do it all again the next day.” These folks cannot all be single, and at 8 PM, most young children are already in bed. What has this country come to? These workers appear resigned to this lifestyle, as observed in this photo. Are all major cities in the US following suit?

This day of visiting one of my old haunts only reaffirms why I left Northern Virginia a decade ago. My schedule is one of my choosing. My life is filled with meaning and quality, nurturing images inspire me, while I am embraced by a supportive small town humanity.

We found the car quickly, yet there was no way out of the lot without a special pass—a pass never mentioned by the locals or employees of the train depot. As we drove about looking for a parking attendant, none existed. Finally at one exit, we spotted a local woman, standing out of the pouring rain, and she offered to let us use her pass, if we would give her a ride home—just a few blocks away. Our angel in disguise, indeed.

A long day, a telling day, and one to reflect upon.

As for my next trip to the urbane, it may be delayed for perhaps another decade.

To order USA made slippers go to www.sundanceleather.com

Copyright©2011 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

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Essay Titles

  • Keto almond crackers
  • If you are climbing the walls…
  • Three hours of sun
  • “this too shall pass”
  • there is no place like home…
  • the perfect Tiny House
  • Miracles everywhere
  • And so it goes…
  • Transform, transition, resilience
  • An Artist’s Way
  • Sunday’s monster project
  • Meanwhile
  • how fragile we are
  • what I learned about Keto
  • small steps
  • do no harm…
  • will this convince you?
  • Plastics…a soapbox tale
  • Let’s clean up our act
  • 2020…are we ready?
  • All I want for Christmas
  • Thanksgiving…remembering love
  • At last
  • Keto “potatoes”
  • When critters call
  • Keto bread revisited
  • My report on Keto
  • for the love of rock, II
  • give a gardener a cool summer day…
  • Oh July, July
  • Kale, the ultimate chip
  • gone Keto
  • she’s baaaack!
  • Perhaps missed
  • for the love of rock
  • the anatomy of a popover
  • the garden visitor
  • what blooms this week
  • porch envy
  • Summer in Virginia
  • timing is everything
  • pies and peonies
  • words cross centuries
  • zen and now
  • April brings flowers and…chores!
  • Kudos, followers
  • this week’s reading challenge…
  • February dreaming…
  • kitty love
  • the dormant season

Seasonal Topics by Month

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