Cincinnati Treasures

This week brought two more opportunities to learn about Cincinnati history. On Wednesday I went to Prime Time, a monthly luncheon and program sponsored by the Friendship United Methodist Church of Wyoming, Ohio, where I have previously learned the history of Cincinnati chili, followed along by pictures on a recent trip to Machu Picchu, and listened to fabulous bell choirs. This time we were treated to a presentation by the Cincinnati Preservation Association, a "virtual tour" of notable architectural landmarks in the city.  We saw the Carew Tower, an early retail center, and Union Terminal, which provided a common transfer point between several disparate railroad lines that previously had failed to meet in this crossroads of America. Much of the program focused on Cincinnati's central Fountain Square, its unique fountain and the Albee Theater. They even showed a picture of Wiggins, a popular restaurant in the '50s and '60s, which was replaced in the 1970s by the Westin Hotel. That was after I went there in 1967 on my first date with the man who shortly thereafter became my husband. Ever since we became aware of its absence on our few and far-between visits  back to the city in which we met, we had wondered what had happened to it and in fact been unable to place where it had been on the square. Now perhaps we can take an excursion some time and re-situate it in our memories.

On Saturday afternoon I happened across an article in the newspaper about weekend performances at Music Hall honoring Stephen Foster as an "American Original." Not only is Stephen Foster acknowledged as the father of American music, he has an association with Cincinnati as he came here in 1846 to work as bookkeeper for his brother's steamship company. The Cincinnati Pops would be playing "Oh! Susanna," "Beautiful Dreamer," and "My Old Kentucky Home." Was it too late to get tickets for the Sunday matinee performance?

No! We book entertainment through the Internet these days, and in less than 15 minutes I had found seats and printed out tickets. So off we went this afternoon and were treated to a magical performance of orchestral and vocal American music. Not all the pieces were written by Foster--some traditional tunes were those that had influenced him, and one ("I Still Miss Someone," by Johnny Cash, was influenced by him). Stephen Foster only stayed in Cincinnati for two years, but it was here that he wrote "Oh! Susanna," his first popular published piece. He wrote almost 200 more in the following 16 years before he died at the age of 37.

To Connecticut and Back Home

Defying the threat of rain, sleet, and snow last Monday morning, I left Cincinnati at 7:00 AM on a flight to Philadelphia and then on to Hartford. I was on my way to Middletown, a city in which I had lived for a brief time and worked for only slightly longer. Since being an employee on site for four years long ago, I have worked for the same organization remotely (in four different home offices, plus countless temporary lodgings) as a part-time contractor and consultant. This was my first official business trip back to the "home site" since I had left in 2002. So it was a coming home of sorts.

Much changes in a dozen years, of course. I didn't go back to the same building--the organization had moved into fancy new offices up the street in the intervening years. At least eight of a staff of about 25 were no longer working there--most having retired. One of the joys of the trip was being able to meet the newcomer replacements face-to-face and in their various habitats--the better to remember who they are and what they do when I converse with and about them by email or, less often, by phone.

The purpose of the trip was intensive training in production and quality assurance techniques for a rather complex XML-based monthly publication. Intense it was. I know the content well, but getting it all to slide properly into a remote host's system took quite a bit of orientation and practice, and just how successful we were will make itself clear in the coming months. In between the training sessions I had a little time to meet with regular staffers and with a couple former colleagues, and it was pleasant reminiscing. The weather was cold, and my day started at 8:00 the second morning and 7:00 the next. Though my hotel was in town and only about a half mile from the office, I did not have much chance to walk down Middletown's Main Street and enjoy the old ambiance, but I did do fairly well at sampling from the 25 "within-walking-distance" restaurants listed in my hotel guide.

My flight home didn't get me into the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport until 10:45 PM, so I had arranged to take a shuttle to a nearby hotel to spend the night. Good idea, because by that time I was too tired for anything else. Thursday morning my "personal driver" came and met me for breakfast, and then we had a pleasant drive home counterclockwise around the metropolitan area of Cincinnati, in bright sunlight. It was good to get back to our little apartment on the north side and to get my computer hooked up in my office again.

This was the first time I felt that I was truly coming "home" to Cincinnati.

Sunday in Kentucky

Brrrr...it's cold! The temperatures have been in the teens, and that's in Fahrenheit, not Celsius. And it's not just cold--there are threats of rain, freezing rain, sleet, and snow for the night between Sunday and Monday. And I have a flight out from the Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky Airport on Monday morning at 7:00.

Deciding to spend the night at an airport hotel was one of the smartest decisions I have made recently.  It was gray all morning Sunday morning. And did I mention cold? We ventured out after Sunday Morning on CBS to do a quick errand, then back home to tie up the loose ends before leaving at around noontime for the airport hotel. We had planned to have an afternoon out in downtown Cincinnati, but not much attracted us when we set out, and the local news had advised us that the freezing rain would start at 1:00 PM.

Sure enough, we needed the windshield wipers sporadically as we rounded Cincinnati to the north and west on interstate 275.  Then Gladys the GPS lady sent us off 275 and down 75 south through city center, but still we weren't tempted to stop. We crossed the bridge over the Ohio River and reached the hotel in northern Kentucky at 2:00, and were allowed to check in early. We deposited our provisions in our room, noted the fridge and microwave with appreciation, and asked directions to "beautiful, downtown Erlanger." No problem, the desk clerk said without missing a beat, just go two exits west and you will come to the Crestview mall.

We had a pleasant two hours at Crestview. First we found Abuelos, an upscale "Taste of Mexico" restaurant, where we enjoyed a light lunch of spinach-stuffed mushrooms and bacon-wrapped shrimp from the tapas and small bites menu. That plus the thin tortilla chips was sufficient for a late lunch. Then we spied Joseph Beth, a bookstore we knew from Cincinnati, and spent a rapturous hour browsing books and its selection of carefully chosen jewelry, ceramics, accessories, and other lovely objects to look at and hold. This Joseph Beth, appropriately, has a section devoted to Kentucky authors and artifacts, as well as one to Cincinnati, and I particularly enjoyed perusing that.

We intended to move on to explore the rest of the shopping area, but by this time the raindrops were freezing even more, and this is an outdoor mall. We bundled up, found our way back to the car, and drove the two exits back to the hotel., and burrowed in to enjoy TV, the Internet, books, and the wine and cheese we had brought with us. And ordered a wake-up call at 4:30.

Sliding past Christmas

The little Christmas tree at the entry

It is Sunday, January 4th, 2015 and my Christmas tree is still up, the Christmas place mats and dinnerware are still in use, and the other small decorations--mostly candles and another miniature tree in the entry--have not yet even begun to be gathered in one place so as to collect them all (always missing a few) to be put away in boxes until next December.

I am unapologetic. You cannot live in Spain for as long as I did without accepting that Christmas lasts way beyond New Year's Day--which was always the traditional day in our house for putting away Christmas, or else! It lasts until January 6, which marks the day following the evening when the Three Wise Men brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the Christ Child, and when modern-day Three Kings traditionally bring Christmas gifts to the children in Spain. I like the Spanish schedule for Christmas: It generally doesn't begin until the first week in December, on or about the day of celebrating the Immaculate Conception of Mary (December 8th), and preparations roll along at an unhurried pace until the 24th, when a grand family dinner is enjoyed by all.  Another special dinner happens on December 25th--indeed, the grocery stores are often the most hectic of commerce establishments during these days. With the large influx of northern Europeans in Spain in recent years, shopping malls often present Santa Claus, or more probably Father Christmas, to hear children's wishes and pose for pictures. On December 25th or 26th, however, Father Christmas miraculously transforms into one of the Three Kings, and he continues to hear children's Christmas wishes until January 5th. I will never forget the January 5th that I was in Madrid preparing to fly out early the next morning and discovered that El Corte Inglés, the large department store, was open until midnight so that the Kings' helpers could purchase last-minute gifts. The streets were abustle that night between desperate shoppers and families gathering to watch the Christmas parade at the 11th hour.

Golden tulips on January 4th

Spain has it right not only from the "how to enjoy the holidays" point of view, but from the liturgical view, too. The Twelve Days of Christmas start on the 25th of December and stretch through until January 5th (see a religious explanation here), and I don't understand why more people don't celebrate the twelve days and extend the joy until the day of Epiphany.

I am starting to think about the process of removing those decorations from the Christmas tree that La Guapa has not already pawed down--maybe tomorrow evening, maybe not until Tuesday, the 6th. And one of those days I will launder the Christmas linens and fold them together in one location while I try to collect the remaining symbols of Christmas to pack away in the same boxes. It will all get done on Tuesday, or maybe Wednesday. Or maybe even Thursday.

But even though I am hanging on to Christmas, I was not deterred this weekend from picking up a small bouquet of the first yellow tulips I have seen this year, and "planting" them smack dab next to one of the Christmas tree placements. Tulips were very rare in our part of Spain, on any date.