Blogging - what is it all about?

In what seems a lifetime ago now, I taught high school English and ESL.  I loved teaching English.  I especially loved teaching English as a second language.  About six years ago, an opportunity came along that allowed me to expand my professional experience by going to the local University to create a program to train teachers to become ESL teachers.  While this meant that I would have to leave the secondary classroom, a place where I dearly loved being, I changed the course of my professional life and began writing curriculum that would lead to an endorsement in Linguistically Diverse Education.  I loved the diversity of my new position.  I researched. I wrote. I recruited students. I taught classes.  I became a part of the larger community of others across the state who worked in the LDE field.  It was all a wonderful experience.  Then, I retired.

I began this blog as a way to keep me writing as I began retirement.  I had no idea what direction the blog would go.  I even had a hard time naming my blog because at the time the only identity I could come up with was that of a retired English teacher.

I had visions of using the blog as a place to record my thoughts as I launched into a new phase of my life.  I established a consulting business and began to do a bit of professional development in the area of helping content area teachers teach English language learners.  That was my passion at the time.  Even in retirement, I did not think I would ever want to give up working with teachers who wanted to learn how to best serve their linguistically diverse students.  I hoped my blog would reflect my passion for my field of professional experience and expertise that I hoped to continue throughout my years of retirement.

A funny thing happened on my way to working after retirement.  After a few years of doing that, I didn't want to do it anymore.  I wanted to spend more time with family.  I didn't want commitments.  I wanted to read, to write, to garden, and I wanted to do all of that in my own way on my own time schedule.

My blog became a place where I wrote about random thoughts, memories, and experiences.  It had no focus.  That seemed to be just fine with me.

Now, because of the recent loss of my daughter, I am at a crossroads in my blogging experience.  I have thought of even renaming my blog.  I no longer relate well to the title of "retired English teacher."  Plus, that title puts a lot of pressure on me when I write in a more public format.  After all, now I really have to focus on my grammar, my punctuation, my sentence structure and all of that.  I guess I remain someone who can't read anything without editing it or "correcting it."  While this is true when I read the writing of others, I promise you it is not a judgmental thing, it is just ingrained in me.  When it comes to my own writing, I miss my mistakes because I seem to see only what I meant to say.

If you are a reader, I value your comments and support more than ever.  You all have been a strength to me.  I love reading the posts of my other blogging friends.  They keep me interested because they are all so  interesting.  Blogging opens up a new world that many of us never knew was out there.

Perhaps, blogging, as one form of writing, is important to me because of the reflective piece that goes with it.  As teachers, as learners, as writers, we find that we are most effective when we practice reflection.  I recently came across Peter Pappas' work on what he calls the Taxonomy of Reflection.
His model really speaks to me as I think about how this blog will proceed.  For now, most of my writing is taking place in my journal.  This blog will likely serve as a place where I can explore the public expression of my private writing.

Buster Brown Jr. - What a wonderful dog you were!

The kitchen floor is less clean these days, and the carpet no longer yields a canister full of hair after a vacuuming.  Without Buster, we are learning that he kept the area around the kitchen completely free of little crumbs that we now find must be swept up.  Yes, Buster, our beautiful golden retriever is no longer with us.  Above is a photo of Buster in his favorite spot: near the table and next to Jim.  He is no doubt waiting for a crumb from the cereal bowl to fall on the floor.

On June 1, 2010, three days after the death of my beloved daughter, Julie, Jim and I had to make the unexpected decision to put down our dog.  It all seemed surreal.  At the time, we could hardly believe what we were going through.

We knew Buster had not been himself, and he had been taken in to the vet quite a few times in the past six months, but somehow, his condition was never diagnosed.  It turns out that Buster had cancer in his lungs and in his heart.  One of the tumors in his heart burst while he was staying with Jim's daughter, Thia, in Colorado Springs.  Thia called with the news and said she was taking him to the vet.  Thankfully, they were able to diagnose his condition and give us the information we needed to make the decision that the right thing to do would be to put him down since there was nothing that could be done for him.  The vet was able to keep him alive until Jim and I could drive from the Boulder area, where we were in the midst of planning Julie's memorial service, to Colorado Springs to be by his side for his final moments.  In many ways, it was healing for me to be able to be there with him as he passed from this life to the next.  Jim and I both held and petted our beloved dog as he took his final breath of life.

Technically, Buster was my dog.  Jim gave him to me for Christmas in 1999.  He was a scrappy little puppy who immediately went to work chewing everything he could find.  I think Jim expected Buster to automatically be as perfectly behaved and wonderfully trained as Buster's predecessor Red had been.  Buster would require much training, especially since he had to cope with two  very different "parenting tactics."  I was the one who expected a very tightly controlled, well trained dog, while Jim preferred to indulge our spoiled pet.

Somehow even though Buster was a handful and a challenge at first, it became very evident early on that Buster was really Jim's dog and would become his best buddy.  I'm not sure if this photo is prophetic or not, but please note that Jim is only wearing one sock.  Do you think he had taken his sock off and Buster had grabbed it and begun his life long habit of chewing up and eating socks?

No matter what his bad habits were, like eating socks, kleenex, and chewing up the back deck so badly when he was a pup that we had to have my son Jon and his wife Samantha rebuild the deck, Buster won over the hearts of our family right from the very beginning.

Buster was born in October of 1999.  My two grandchildren, Mason and Gillian, had been born the previous October.  Buster became the childhood companion to the grandchildren when they were at Grandma Sally's house.  That is one reason why we wanted a golden retriever.  They are awesome with children.  We never had to worry about him being anything but gentle and loving around the children.

I remember when one of the grandchildren at about age two or three looked into his eyes after petting him and said, "He has real eyes."  I guess he seemed like a big stuffed animal, except that this fluffy pet was alive.
                                                

                                                                         

He loved the grandkids and would be so excited whenever they came to visit.  The photo above was taken just a year ago.  He still looked healthy and young as he played with Atticus.

After Jim retired, Buster became his constant companion.  Buster sat at Jim feet as Jim read the morning newspaper and patiently waited for the daily walks at the river walk.  They had a routine.  Buster knew that Jim would be faithful in feeding him in the exact amounts twice a day at the same time.  Buster's weight was managed carefully even though ours was not!  Buster could count on being groomed once a week on Sunday afternoons by Jim.  He also loved his monthly visits to the professional groomer.  Believe me, this dog was treated very well.  Some might say that he was very spoiled.  Spoiled or not, Buster was the most loving dog ever, and he loved his good and kind master very much.

Julie's dog, Phoenix, was one of Buster's playmates from puppy days.  Phoenix, a yellow lab/golden retriever mix was a rambunctious alpha dog.  It was always a wild time when the two of them were in the yard or in the house.  Many happy times were spent by all of us with these two beautiful dogs.   This photo of Buster and Phoenix surrounded by Hannah, Julie, Keicha and Mason was taken a year ago.

Buster's days were spent just being our loving companion.  He spent time with us on walks and trips to the mountains when we had the opportunity to get out of town.  Or, he loved to sun himself on the porch or the patio.  The yard was his domain.  That is another thing that has changed.  We now find the squirrels and the neighborhood cat have been daring to hang out in our yard.  Our guard is no longer on duty.  They feel free to run from tree to tree without being chased from our premises by our watchdog who only barked if something or someone got into the backyard.

The last few months of Buster's life were most spent with Thia and her family.  He stayed with them as we went to Europe and then during the time we were out of town dealing with the aftermath of Julie's sudden and unexpected death.  We are grateful that he was with family and children in his last days.  He loved being with the kids.  Rachel and Nicole could not have been better caregivers.  They upstaged their grandpa by brushing Buster each day when they returned from school.  I love this photo of these two beautiful girls in a beautiful setting with a beautiful dog.  Thanks, Nicki and Rachel for taking such good care of Buster!

The last family gathering that included Julie, Buster, and Phoenix, who now lives with Julie's friend Jason, was held during the Easter holiday of this year.  Little did any of us know how much our lives would change in just a few short weeks.  I am so grateful that we gathered on the front lawn to take that last family snapshot together.  

Julie is trying to get Phoenix to pose for the portrait.  Buster is paying attention to Julie.  Jim is surrounded by our wonderful family and his dog, as always, is near his side.  We all had a wonderful time that day.

 Our sad good-byes would come later.  As Buster passed from this life into the next, I whispered in his ear, "Go be with Julie."  I wasn't sure of my doctrine on my last words to our beloved dog, but later, I found a quote in a book I've been reading about the great theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  Bonhoeffer said, "Look, God created human beings and also animals, and I'm sure he also loves animals.  And I believe that with God it is such that all who loved each other on earth - genuinely loved each other - will remain together with God..."

Jim and I are at an end of an era.  The grandchildren are no longer babies.  We have transitioned fully into retirement.  Our loved companion is gone.  We have lost a beautiful daughter.  We do have many wonderful memories of all of our times together.  For that we are grateful.

Our formal, family portrait of the three of us was taken when we were all a bit younger!

Morning Peace and Serenity

Early this morning, as I was reading the newspaper in the newspaper room I heard chirping coming from the nest of baby birds that is located over the front entry way of our porch.  Thinking that the babies must be getting ready to spread their wings and leave the nest, I ran and got my camera to try and get some pictures.  In the past, Momma Bird has not liked me coming to the front door to try to snap her photo as she feeds her babies. Last week I was able to get a quick photo.  I could not see the babies in the photo below, but once in a while, without my camera in hand, I would see a baby poke up a little beak.

Today was different.  Not only were the babies bigger and more clearly seen from my vantage point, but it seemed that Momma Bird was also willing to have me watch her without flying away.  I guess she must be getting ready to let go of her babies and let them leave the nest to fly out into the big wide world.  I will be sad to see them go.  They have been such a blessing to me during this time of mourning.  I have intently watched the mother care for her babies knowing that she too must let them fly someday.  While the day of watching these sweet babes fly away will be sad for me, I can plainly see that they are almost ready to go.  Not only that, they are getting a bit crowded in that small nest.

Since I already had the camera out, I decide to go out to the backyard to take some photos to send to my son since I had recently re-done a small walkway.  Before he left for Bangladesh, I had told him he could finish the walk the next time he was home.  I think he was surprised to hear I had actually fixed the walkway and wanted a picture to prove it.

So here it is:  the walkway between the lavender and the rose bed.  (The rose bed is not showing because there was not enough light to get a good photo.) I'm quite proud of that little walkway that Jim and I did all by ourselves without Jon's artistic eye and flexible back and knees!  I had harvested lavender from one of the plants last week and was thinking how I needed to get out and get the other one harvested, when I saw a bumblebee getting some sweet nectar from the unharvested plant.  I hope you can see the bee in the photo below.

Moving from the east side of the yard to the west, I realized that today was the perfect day to work in the perennial garden on the west side.  It had rained last evening, so the weeds could be pulled easily.  It was cooler this morning, and the house was still shading that part of the yard.  Before I went to get my  husband and put him to work, I snapped a few photos of the perennial garden.  The wind and the rain had bent the delphiniums over, but I thought they still looked quite lovely.

To the left of this photo, the part that I did not photograph, was the worst part of my yard.  It was actually a weed patch that was covered with all kinds of weeds and a load of dirt that I had dumped there last year because I didn't know where else to put it.  All of this mess of weeds and dirt sat on top of fabric weed guard that the landscapers had talked me into putting down a few years ago when I got rid of the rock in the backyard.  I never wanted the stuff, but let myself be talked into it by the landscapers and my husband.  Sure enough, just as I thought, weeds had just grown on top of it making it even harder to get rid of the weeds and expand my garden.  Since early spring, I have very slowly tried to pull up the weed guard.  Think about pulling up carpet that has dirt, mulch and weeds on top of it.  That is what my task was like.  

Today, I decided it was finally cool enough to really go to work on this ugly patch.  I am not totally stupid, so I enlisted the help of my main man who happens to be very strong and good at pulling up carpet, or as he did in the old days, pulling shingles off of roofs.  

We are nearly done with our job in this photo.  I don't know if you can see the look on his face, but he is pretty tuckered out.  He is holding some of the fabric guard in his hand.  The garbage can to his right was the second one we had filled with fabric weed guard and weeds.  We had to shovel dirt, pull weeds and then pull up the weed guard to get this done.  Finally, just as the shade was nearly gone, our task was done. We won't have to go to the Y today!

Jon wanted a photo of the daisy in bloom, so I have included that.

Just as I was ready to put the shovels away, take the camera inside, and rest, I saw one more photo op.

I'm not sure you can see this, but it is another photo of a nice big bumblebee getting some more nectar.

My mother sent me a card this week to lift my spirits.  Inside she had enclosed a quote about gardening.  "Gardening is about enjoying the smell of things growing in the soil, getting dirty without feeling guilty, and generally taking the time to soak up a little peace and serenity."  ~ Lindsey Karstens ~

This year more than ever, my garden has been a place where I can work, grieve, and find much peace and serenity.  In the garden, I find the Giver of all comfort.

Lord, You made me laugh

even when I felt like crying

Lord, you made me sing

even when my heart was aching

Lord, You let me hide in You

when the sky is raging, raging,

raging

I know the sun always shines after 

the rain

I'll find you there;

I'll find you there

I'll find your there, O Lord...

Lift Your Eyes

Just before my senior year in high school, my father was transferred from Pueblo, Colorado to Leadville, Colorado. Needless to say, I was not very happy that I was uprooted and moved away from the happy high school life that I had in Pueblo. I was convinced that life two miles high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado in a small former mining community would be unbearable. One cold summer afternoon when the rain finally stopped, I looked out of the window of our house and said to my mother, "I hate this place. It is ugly. All I see in this town is mud." Her response has stayed with me all this years. She said,"Sally, you need to lift your eyes. Look above the mud on the ground and look at those mountains." The magnificent Mt. Massive, still covered with snow, seemed to fill all of the horizon above the street for as far as the eye could see.  I did learn a life lesson in that moment.  Focus is everything.  What do we see when we look beyond the window?  Where do we wish to focus our view of the world around us?

One of the first things that my son, Jonathan said to me after Julie's services was that he wanted to come to Pueblo to help me build a garden to honor Julie.  Since I have a great deal of yard that still needs to be landscaped, I was thrilled to think that we might begin to work on this project together.  Jon, wearing his traditional lungi from Bangladesh decided that the first order of business would be to install a fountain in the flower garden that is being developed on the side of the house.  This turned into an all day project, but, we finally had it installed and working.  Of course there was some water fun that kept interrupting the work!

While Jon and his wife Samantha worked on the fountain installation, Atticus joined me in planting some flowers.  What a joy it was for me to sit around a small flower garden with my grandson and dig in the dirt.  The curious sort, he had all kinds of questions and observations.  We decided that he should be a botanist someday so that he could study about dirt, bugs, plants and other interesting things.  I must admit that I used my influence to try to lead him in the direction that I think would be such a fascinating field.  He hoped we'd find a worm.  We did.  I went and got my brand-new jewelers 20X illuminated magnifying glass(my graduation present from Colorado Master Gardeners), and we looked for the worm's head.

Jon and I finally selected a spot for Julie's Garden.  We decided it should be the trampoline since that is a gathering place for kids of all ages in our family.  Also, that part of the yard is totally ugly and hot and could use some help.

I came up with the picture of the dream corner I wanted to create from a gardening magazine.  (Our spot is still a very long ways from looking like the picture!)  We thought a small patio next to the shed would be nice to build.  This would give us a place to have a small bistro type table.

Now that we had a vision, some bricks and two men to get busy on the work, I could leave the work up to Jon and Jim.

Jon had a lot of work to do just getting rid of weed guard, the bark and leveling the ground.  Then, he and Jim brought in some sand to make the foundation for the bricks.  (These bricks used to be the bricks in our old patio on the side of the house. I guess they've been moved a few times now!)

Since Jon is young and has his original knees, he became our official bricklayer.  He has been watching a lot of the men in Bangladesh put down the bricks for roads by hand since he got there, so he knew exactly what to do.

PLEASE NOTE:  The corner behind the shed that we selected, is less than perfect due to the fact that our neighbor just that day came up with his solution to the fence I had Jim tear down that was falling into our yard.  Don't you love the orange, plastic fence?  Since our neighbor has not been interesting in sharing the cost of fixing this old fence, I guess I am going to have to pay him a visit soon so we can discuss how his choice is not working for me.

After a long, hot day doing the brick work, Jon, Jim and I drove to Canon City to get some trees.  We wanted a tree for this area that would:  a)not get too big, b) shade the small patio and trampoline, c) be the most beautiful around either Julie's birthdate in April, or the date of her death in May.  We selected a Newport Plum.  I love it because the leaves will always have a rich burgundy red/orange color.  In the spring, it will be covered with vanilla colored flowers with burgundy centers.

We also decided to replace the tree that we removed last summer.  We need the shade for our main patio and for our bedroom.  An Autumn Purple Ash was selected.

The trees were not delivered until Jon had left for home.  It was a wonderful day, when they were delivered and planted.  Planting a tree and building a garden are very healing ways to grieve the loss of a loved one.  In this case, I can't even tell you how much comfort it gives me each day to look out and see Julie's plum tree.  It reminds me of her somehow.  I think that sometimes when she used to dye her hair red, it would almost be this color.  Maybe it is just that it is a tall, beautiful thing of beauty that stands out in nature.  I think of her that way.

                                                       The beginning stages of Julie's Garden
                                                                      The Newport Plum

Each day, I gaze our my window and lift my eyes.  I see the two trees we planted.  It gives me comfort to see these trees and think about how they will grow and shade my home, Julie's Garden, and the trampoline for years to come.  They represent hope.  They represent inspiration.  This will be a place for healing, a place for laughter, a place to remember times past, and place to create new memories.  The trees allow me to lift my eyes and see beyond this earth.

Memorial Talk

A Mother's Tribute to Her Daughter

Given at the Memorial Service for Julie Ann Christiansen

Julie, my sweet Julie. Julie, who can say your name without adding sweet to it? Who can think of you without thinking of your kindness, your goodness, your beauty, both inside and out? Who can think of you without seeing those bright, intelligent, sparkling blue eyes? Who can think of you without wanting to reach out and get a handful of that thick, beautiful mass of sweet smelling, soft curls? Who will ever forget how wonderful your hair smelled, how soft your touch felt or how stunning you looked in just about anything you wore.

Julie, my free-spirit with a soul that was as rich, full-bodied and interesting as her hair, was born on a spring morning on April 8, 1976. My springtime pixie, born while the daffodils were in full bloom entered this life like a fire cracker during the bicentennial year of our nation’s birth. She seemed to be all sunshine and laughter as a young child. I will carry with me always the image I have of her at about four years old. She was in the backyard of our home trying to launch a small paper kite that she had made. I still see the look of freedom, laughter and joy as you ran back and forth across the lawn in a futile attempt to get the kite in the air.

Julie was a busy child. She would think of all kinds of things to do to keep herself busy such as taking on projects of collecting rocks from the backyard, painting them with her watercolor set and then attempting to sell the fruits of her labor to the neighbors as she and Jon made their way around the block. Her beautiful, hand painted rainbow rock is one of my most prized possessions. It is always next to me on my desk or reading table.

Julie’s unique genetic makeup gave her the features that we could all see and admire: beautiful eyes, amazing hair, a beautiful, lean athletic body, a strong Christiansen nose, a brilliant mind, a need to read and express herself through writing, and kind, sweet spirit. Because of her genetic makeup, she also suffered from a disease that first began to manifest itself in her late teen years. Depression began to rob her of her joy and became the demon that she would battle in many different ways for the rest of her life.

Julie, the reader, the seeker of answers and understanding, shared a book with me a number of years ago. She asked me to read Kay Redfield Jamison An Unquiet Mind because she said it helped her to understand her illness. Recently, she also recommended that I read Nothing Was The Same, Jamison’s latest book about her own experience with grief after the death of her husband. In this book, Jamison said that during grief she experienced restlessness in everything she did. I know that we as a family have felt this restlessness these past few days, but, Jamison states that “in grief the restlessness was not the unbearable agitation of mania, but instead, an anxious fluttering that attached itself to my grief...I walked and walked in an attempt to alloy that disquiet.”

In order to better understand Julie’s pain, I have found comfort in reading what Jamison states is the difference between grief and depression. She states in Nothing Was The Same, “Grief conspires to ensure that it will in time wear itself out. Unlike depression, it acts to preserve the self. Depression is malignant, indiscriminately destructive.” “Time alone during grief proved restorative. Time alone during depression is dangerous.” “Depression, less comprehensible than grief, does not always elicit the same ritual kindness. Grief does not alienate the way depression does.”

Unfortunately, Julie at times forgot some of Jamison’s advice: “We are each an island...Treat your island with regard. Do not let it go to weed; do not give it over to anyone else. Understand the possibilities. Know the dangers. Keep away the ungenerous and unkind.”

As a young child, Julie once wore her new cross necklace to school one day. The teacher asked her why she was wearing it. She said, “because I love Jesus.” Over the years, life events and depression robbed Julie of her simple faith, but the Good Shepherd never forgets His sheep.

In the early morning hours of Saturday, May 29, 2010, My sweet Jesus, who saw Julie’s pain and saw that her attempts to relieve that pain were only making her disease worse, gathered my sweet Julie in His arms and took her home to be with Him.

Julie was a gift and a treasure to me and to all of her family. We loved her more than words can ever express. She was the centerpiece of many gatherings, even though those gatherings could sometimes overwhelm her. She was as crazy, wild and funny as any one of her other siblings. She had wonderful friends who loved and enjoyed her. Thankfully, she also had Jason in her life. Thank you Jason for all you have done for us and for Julie. She knew that you loved her and were her best friend. We will be forever grateful that you are a part of our family.

As we all gathered together this week, finally meeting as a family at Amy’s, I found myself doing what I always have, counting 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, making sure I had all my chicks accounted for. I will never be able to get over the sorrow that I will feel when Julie is not with us. I will miss her arm around my shoulder when she would say, “Hi Momacita.” I will miss her calls when she would say, “Mom” and I would answer with “Julie.” I will miss her wisdom and her ability to help me see things in a different and better way. I will be eternally grateful that I was given the gift of her life. She was a gift, a treasure and my Jewel. I am at peace knowing that she is at peace and will no longer suffer any pain.

Life Altering Events

In Memory of My Beautiful Daughter

Julie Ann Christiansen

Once upon a time, I was going through a terrible time in my life. I decided to keep a journal about what I was going through. The problem was, I didn't want to write down what I was going through because it made it all too real. Words held too much power for me. They seemed too final. It seemed better to just talk around things. It seemed to me that if I just didn't write down what I was going through, I could reverse the events, results, and feelings much more easily than I could if I recorded what was really happening.

Sadly, even if I never write about the great loss I recently suffered, it will not go away.

On Saturday, May 29, 2010, I lost my beautiful daughter, Julie Ann Christiansen. She lost her long battle with depression. I had 34 years with her, and for that I am grateful.

My husband and I have been staying in a Residence Inn in the Boulder, Colorado area since last Saturday dealing with the reality of our loss, spending time with our other children and grandchildren, and doing all those things that must be done after a death. Today, we returned home. I realized that for the past week, I have been wrapped in a very protected cocoon. I was ensconced in a neutral, motel suite where my bed was made each morning, where my room was cleaned and tidied, and where my husband went to the lobby each day to get my breakfast and bring it back to me in my room.

For a time, my sister and her husband were right across the hall. My other children and grandchildren were just a short drive away. My siblings came to my side. My nieces and nephews came from all over the state and from Texas, California and Boston. Friends came from Virginia, and Florida. Many traveled from various parts of the state to be by our side.

I have been surrounded by people who love me, my daughter, my family. I will be forever grateful for the love, support and messages of hope, and peace, and love that came our way. I have been changed by the kindness of others. I hope I can use this lesson of love to help others.

I came home today to a yard full of weeds. I am thankful for them. I need a lot of weeds to pull.

Answers will not come easily anytime soon.

I post this entry only because I wish to honor the memory of a beautiful gift that I held for a little while. I wanted more time with my sweet Julie. I didn't know I didn't have it. I will never again take for granted the days that I have remaining with my other children and my grandchildren. I am sustained by their strength, their support and their love. Each of my beautiful children is a blessing. Their intelligence, sensitivity, wit, sense of fun and good humor has helped me through this time. I am grateful that they have each other, and that they have used this bittersweet time to strengthen their bond of love and support for each other.

For now, I will treasure the memories, take comfort in knowing how many people loved my daughter. I will go forward leaning on the grace that has sustained me throughout this entire life altering event.

Today, I told my husband that I will not be defined by this loss, nor will I allow the wonderful, beautiful, spirited, brave and good spirit of my daughter to be defined by a disease that robbed her of so much.

Life has been forever altered. I will be learning many new lessons on life, loss and love. Mostly, I hope to honor the one that has left us by fully enjoying and supporting the ones that are left.

Vienna and A Memorable Evening - Part III

Vienna &
A Memorable Evening

I find it very hard to even write about Vienna because the city seemed to impress me at every turn. According to a guide book, Vienna is known for its coffee and croissants. These two things and much of the architecture of Vienna speak of the Turkish influence. The Turks also brought tulip and hyacinth bulbs and lilac bushes to Vienna. Vienna is at its most beautiful in May. We were there during the waning days of April.

Everywhere in Vienna, one finds evidence of baroque architecture and design. Empress Maria Theresa, mother of Marie Antoinette and 15 others, built Schonbrunn Palace soon after she established Vienna as the of capital of the Austrian kingdom.

She had a great love for baroque design and Mozart. Her influence is seen everywhere. In the photo below, I am pointing to one mom I really have to admire: Maria Theresa, otherwise known as "Europe's mother-in-law." One of her sons-in-law didn't end up doing so well. I guess that is a lesson in why we shouldn't arrange marriages for our children.

Sally at Maria-Theresien-Plaz

I could not even begin to capture through photography the beauty and uniqueness of Vienna. Schonbrunn Palace is as splendid as anything in Europe. We took a carriage ride through the gardens during which I nearly went crazy from the beauty of spring that was budding all around me. When I discovered I couldn't do the sights around me justice, I just put the camera away and enjoyed the beauty . I have included a photo of Schonbrunn Palace.

It was in Vienna where we went to the Museum of Fine Arts and saw a large collection of the Dutch masters. On our way as we walked to the museum, we passed a statue honoring Goethe.

Once, when I working on my English degree and was reading Goethe, I asked Jim if he had ever read anything by written by the German author. "Yes, in German," my husband replied. I found new respect for him with that statement! It

turns out that he read "Faust" in German in college. Jim loved seeing this statue honoring

this famous German author.

It seems that everywhere you look in Vienna you see something made of marzipan. The cakes in this photo are all made entirely out of marzipan.

Speaking of marzipan, before we left for our trip, Jim's niece told us about Mozart balls. "You can't go to Vienna and not eat a Mozart ball," she said. So, of course, that is one of the first things we bought. These delicious little chocolate balls are made of several layers of different flavors of chocolate surrounding a center of marzipan.

An Evening of Music at Kursalon

Before we went on our trip, Jim asked me if I would be interested in attending a chamber music concert while we were in Vienna. Of course, I was interested. One simply can't go to Vienna, the world music capital, and not attend a concert. On Saturday evening, April 24th, we were able to have a very memorable evening listening to musicians play music by Mozart, Strauss and others at the beautiful Kursalon.

Not feeling well when I got to the concert hall, I made my way down two flights of narrow stairs to the restroom and then back up again . Dying for a glass of water "without gas," I asked the bartender if he might be able to give me a glass of water before I went into the concert hall. Jim and all of our friends were already seated and waiting for the event to begin. Graciously, the bartender gave me a glass of cold water and would not accept any money for it. He invited me to step outside to the terrace for some fresh air to drink the water.

If you look at the link I put in this post for the Kursalon, you will see many beautiful statues of Greek gods on top of this building. It is behind and just below these statues where this terrace was located. I stepped out for the welcomed cool air and walked over to the edge of the terrace where I had a view of the moon. From my vantage spot, I could gaze out at the new spring foliage on the trees and down to the drive below that was filled with concert goers in evening dress. The experience was magical. "Just think," I thought to myself. "Here I am, the only person on this beautiful terrace drinking in the beauty of the spring evening as I look forward to listening to chamber music being played in Vienna, Austria." Refreshed, I stepped into the concert hall and let myself be carried away with the music. The power of the music allowed me to fully live in the moment. Forgetting my worries, my tiredness and other bodily discomforts, under the beautiful chandeliers, seated in the front row on a side section, with my wonderful husband at my side, I was one with the musical beauty of Vienna.

Later, I learned that Kursalon means "a spa or a cure." At one time people came her to drink the curative water and listen to the music. It certainly worked for me.