TRAVEL THERE – DEFINATELY NOT ON PAR WITH PUNTA CANA
The Dining Room
The happy face you see above only appeared one time in the dining room at Sandpiper Bay and when he actually sat down to eat this delicious looking crepe, he was sadly disappointed.
At Punta Cana we had three delicious choices for dining and we thoroughly enjoyed them all at various times. If it was a buffet meal, the tables were burdened with delicious choices. Whether we should blame stingy management or Covid, we’re not sure, but the one choice we had for meals at Sandpiper Bay was disappointing by comparison.
At Punta Cana, we wandered around multitudes of bounteous tables. We had a large plate in our hands and were allowed to serve ourselves whatever we wanted as much as we wanted. At Sandpiper Bay, they hid the food behind those irritating cough panels and dished up scanty servings of whatever was on for that particular meal.
At Punta Cana, you could always find a waitperson to get you more wine, more silverware, another napkin, whatever you needed. It wasn’t exactly five star service, but it was adequate. At Sandpiper Bay, you were virtually on your own. We figured out where they kept the opened bottles of wine and served ourselves most of the time, but the wine wasn’t as good as Punta Cana either.
At Punta Cana, meal time was one of our favorite events. At Sandpiper Bay we were lucky if we found enough of anything we liked to keep from being hungry. Not exactly the luxury experience we expected.
I hate to keep kicking Sandpiper Bay around the room, but the dining was a pretty sad situation. Before our four nights were over, we did find things to enjoy, but it just wasn’t the experience we’d anticipated from our previous Club Med stay.
The Entertainment
Another marvelous thing about Punta Cana was the entertainment. The Boss of the Village was almost a natural entertainer and you could tell he made his people rehearse. Night after night we saw great shows. They were not professional, but they were something they could be proud of.
The entertainment at Sandpiper Bay was pitiful. It was so sloppy in its execution that you knew all they’d done is have a verbal walk thru. No one had a singing voice worth anything and instead of being funny, they were silly. And sloppy. Did I mention sloppy? Costumes never fit and were barely pulled up over shorts and bathing suits. Wigs were never combed and always awry. The Boss of the Village was there, but she was among the sloppiest and the silliest. She was barely filling in the blanks, not leading the way to quality anywhere in the resort.
I’m not bothering to catalog menus or describe any of the various shows, because nothing was worth noting. We’d show up each night in hopes of something, anything to eat, to drink, to pass the time, but always left a little hungry and very disgusted. None of the other meals were any better, but it was the evenings which were the most pathetic.
Come back next week and I will try to find something worthwhile to share with you. We were together and we weren’t working all the time, so there were good moments. We just had to make them ourselves, because there was little on offer from the resort.
When we stepped off the plane in Palm Beach, we were excited about starting our luxury vacation. Our anticipation was based on our excellent experience at Club Med Punta Cana. We were going to be disappointed!
The Transfer
In Punta Cana, Club Med had provided us with the name of the transportation vendor and other contact information, but we didn’t even need it, because the pick up area was clearly marked and someone was there to greet us.
In Palm Beach, there was nothing. I started going through the paperwork and found a number to call. Suddenly, their absence was my fault. They had texted me and I didn’t reply. There had been no text, but it magically appeared a few moments after I got off the phone with them. I was assured a car was on its way and someone did show up pretty quickly, but that panic after we had picked up our luggage dulled our excitement.
In Punta Cana, the airport is a short drive from the resort and the scenery along the way gets you very excited about where you are headed. The entrance to the property is well-marked and inviting. Getting there was part of the fun.
In Palm Beach, that’s not the case. You are about an hour away from the resort and we had the joy of adding time to that, because we were in rush hour traffic. You’re stuck on a freeway that looks pretty much like any freeway and as you near the property, you start wandering through residential areas. When you finally arrive at the gate, it looks a little bit like the entry to a run down mansion that might be in a horror film.
The Arrival
In Punta Cana, our driver pulled into a drive and right by the van was a man standing at the podium to greet us. Everywhere we looked was lush greenery and attractive buildings. We were ushered from the van to a shaded seating area where we given refreshments.
At Sandpiper Bay, the driver dumped us off on the sidewalk and we made our way into a glassed-in lobby marked as “Registration.” The harried clerk raised a finger at us to let us know we’d need to wait. We stood there and no one offered us any refreshment. In front of the registration office was a rock garden with dead plants in it. Everywhere we looked resembled the dormitories of a second, maybe third rate, college.
After we’d been registered at Punta Cana, one of the GM’s walked with us to our building and let us into our room. She showed us around our accommodations while we waited for our luggage to be delivered. The room, while not luxurious, was very nice and attractive.
After we’d been registered at Sandpiper Bay, the clerk pointed at our building, which was nearby and told us we were on the third floor. The elevator was at the other end of the building from our room. The room, while not exactly awful, resembled my dorm in college with the exception that we did have our own bathroom.
The first thing we said to each other was, “Sandpiper Bay ain’t no Punta Cana,” and that pretty much sums up the entire adventure. On the ride to the resort, I’d used my phone to handle transferring the day’s shoots to our editors. I always feel nervous when I do it that way, certain something is going to go wrong, because it is a very truncated process via phone, but I was ready to start enjoying our vacation.
We’d arrived after happy hour, which was always one of our favorite times on Punta Cana, but I changed into an fresh outfit, touched up my make-up and headed out to have fun. So far, we were less than impressed with Sandpiper Bay, but hopeful things would get better.
Come back next week and join us for dinner. Then you’ll find out if our beach vacation was getting any better.
So, in February 2022 we had Southwest Air Miles we needed to use before June and we usually do something for our anniversary in May. Though the world was crawling out from under the effects of the pandemic, we’re still a little uncomfortable with the thought of international travel. However, we’d like to do something on par with our Club Med vacation in Punta Cana. With these ideas floating around in our heads, who could blame us for choosing Club Med’s Sandpiper Bay for our vacation?
Bill had suggested Destin and I should have taken him up on it, but I’ll be honest with you it was overwhelming. I’m not an experienced beach bum. I’m great at planning cruises, road trips and travel to cities full of museums and attractions, but I don’t beach well. After an hour or so researching the area I was confused and frustrated. I remembered Club Med had a Florida resort, so I floated the idea with Bill. Our Sandpiper Bay vacation was born.
Let the Headaches Begin
Our business runs smooth as glass until we have the audacity to go out of town. Just before I left for New York our editors shuttered their business. One day they are fully operational and the next they are out of business. Bill had weathered that storm on his own and found us a replacement vendor, but that’s just the way it goes when we go out of town.
We’ve gone through a variation of a nightmares as we left for trips. The worst had been in 2021. I stayed up all night waiting for expedited photos from our editors. They were supposed to come shortly after midnight. Instead I was downloading them at 3:45 AM and we needed to leave the house at 4:30. It was also the first time we’d tried to operate remotely. Let’s just say it did not go smoothly.
For our four night visit to Florida, we hadn’t even told our clients we’d be going out of town. We’d hired more photographers since our last trip and if they just had to have Bill, then they could wait until we got home. But the travel gods still played a trick on us. We had more shoots in one day, on the day before we left, than we’d ever booked before. This time the editors had cooperated with me and I had all the jobs delivered shortly after midnight. That meant I was operating on 4.5 hours of sleep, but that was better than the Michigan trip!
Fighting the Air Travel Nonsense
We left home at the designated hour, but the airport was a nuthouse. The first problem was parking. After driving around sections B&C forever, we realized there were no spaces in long term, so we had to go over to section A and pay through the nose when we got home. We had boarding passes, but still had to check our luggage. Then security was crawling. Of course, we were in the last boarding group, so we couldn’t sit together. Instead of spending my air time with Mr. Bill, I had a humongous snoring man taking up all of his seat and part of mine.
The Palm Beach airport is one you can’t get to directly from Dallas, so we had a layover in Atlanta. As soon we landed and I turned on my phone, I was faced with a problem. It was my own fault, because I had overlooked part of an order, but it was just a drone shot, which we were happy to go back out and get that day. We wouldn’t even have to bother the tenants who were living there. Our new/soon-to-be ex client, really wanted to be unhappy about it and did her best to make us miserable, too. At first I was, but after an hour or two of being her punching bag, I decided I was glad she was going to be our ex-client.
Meanwhile, Bill is fielding his own set of texts. He was verifying appointments with out shooters and our clients. It was a repeat of the day before – more jobs than we’d ever handled in one day. Because we were out of town, no way that was going to go smoothly, so while I battled with the witch woman, he handled all the rescheduling that came up.
As all this was going on, we’re deplaning and looking for somewhere to work. Bill saw a Krispy Kreme that looked like a good solution, until we sat down with our doughnuts and hot beverages. Instead of a relaxing coffee break, someone had decided the Krispy Kreme patrons all wanted to listen to rap music at full volume. We endured it for as long as we could and then had to relocate.
Atlanta airport is not a good one for layovers. The comfort of their passengers in transition is not a priority. It was getting nigh onto lunch time, so we started looking for a place for a nice sit-down meal. The only places for that were Carraba’s or an expensive steakhouse. Carraba’s wait list was an hour long and their bar was full.
Looking for a bright spot, I noticed a Varsity. I grew up going to the Varsity as a treat and while I can’t say their food is good, it has enough nostalgia attached to it that I enjoy it. I no longer feel that way. The precision of the Varsity restaurants ordering and delivering did not translate well into the airport location. I’ll leave it at that, but it was bad.
Finally, it was time to get on another plane for the hop to Palm Beach. At least we got to sit together. I can tell you that we got to our destination along with all our luggage, but that was the end of the good news.
Let’s just say the Sandpiper Bay Effect began as soon as we arrived. Come back next week and as if we haven’t already had a hard start, let me tell you what happened next!
So, it’s my last full day in New York City and I still have a wish list as long as my arm. I’d love to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and see the Rockefeller Collection. I think going to the Guggenheim and MOMA would be great. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Instead, I get on the train and go to New Jersey!
I don’t know Daisy. I don’t know her parents. But I do know Grandpa and I’d walk to the ends of the earth for Deb, so what’s a christening. I’d bought my very special gift for Daisy at Macy’s earlier in the week. I’d brought one of my favorite dresses to wear. I was ready to go.
Thanks to our trial run, the whole subway and train thing happened without a lot of fuss. We arrived on time and her brother was prompt in picking us up. There was some time to kill before the christening, which was great for Deb, because she was able to spend time with family.
Everyone was very nice to me and appreciative of me coming with Deb. I think one or two of them thought we might be closer than we actually are, but that’s the way things are these days. I tried to let them know they were on the wrong track by talking about my HUSBAND Bill.
It was a beautiful ceremony with a very nice priest. Afterwards we went to a lovely restaurant down the street. It was a little crazy, because there were three or four special events going on, but it was apparent how much effort went into making things nice. Daisy is a delightful little girl and her Great Aunt Deborah enjoyed the time she was able to spend with her.
Time to Head Home
The train ride back to New York was the first leg of our return home. From there we rode the subway to our hotel. The next morning Lyft came to pick us up and deliver us to LaGuardia. Southwest Airlines delivered us to Love Field. Bill was there to bring us home.
What an absolutely spectacular trip. It ranks right up there with Egypt, the Danube Waltz and our Anniversary Cruise. All that was missing was Bill, but he would have been miserable for most of the trip, so for his sake, it was good it was a girl’s trip.
But my traveling days are not over. Just a few weeks from getting home from New York, Bill and I were heading out to Club Med’s Sandpiper Bay. Come back next week and we’ll head to Florida.
Dressing up and going to the Opera had been one of the things Deb and I had fantasized about most as we looked forward to this trip. When we made it back from our trial run for Penn station, I was still raring to go. Deb was done in. She laid on the bed and said she was going to wear what she had on.
Now if you recall, her feet were in serious pain and had been ever since Tuesday night, yet we’d been walking all day, every day. The only shoes she could wear at this point was a pair of kitten printed canvas slippers. She was a little rung out from the train station episode and I’m not sure how much fun it would be to get all dressed up and finish the look with kitten shoes.
Here’s what’s so great about our friendship, I still wanted to get dressed up, so I did and she thought that was great. I pulled out all my finery and as I did, I also started prepping for the next morning, when we’d be going to the christening. That’s when I figured out I had no hosiery for the next day. In Dallas in May, that would be OK. In New York, I figured I would freeze to death.
So, I finished up getting cute and had time to spare to go to our drug store. I have no idea what we would have done without it. We’d gotten foot remedies, new skin for my finger, super glue for my sunglasses, late night snacks, numerous Diet Dr Peppers and now I was going for nude colored hose and something to treat a fever blister. Yep, it’s always something.
We were such pros on the subway now, that we probably could have made it just fine to Lincoln Center, but just to be sure we used Lyft. I could get used to this. Our driver dropped us off right in front and we didn’t even have to think about parking.
I do not have enough superlatives in my vocabulary to describe how wonderful it was to see the Franco Zeffirelli production and sets for Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera House. It is one of my favorite operas of all time and I have seen it a number of times at my beloved Dallas Opera, but there’s a reason The Met is The Met.
Turandot was the Ukranian, Luidmyla Ariltato and she did a remarkable job, but her Calaf was a South Korean, Yonghoon Lee. It was so fitting to see an Asian in this role and he knocked it out of the park, vocally. It really was special in my mind. Deb kept talking about how amazing the entire chorus was. “They were actually moving and acting,” she said, “not just standing around singing.”
Then there were the costumes. They were the perfect compliment to the outrageously wonderful sets created for each scene. If there is perfection in this world, short of heaven, then this production of Turandot is it. I can die happy.
Remember the grand nephew we visited across from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Well, we made plans to join him for a bite after the show. We had a little difficulty finding his favorite sushi restaurant, even though it was close by. Lyft let us off at Columbus Circle and it was supposed to be right there, only we couldn’t find it. They were just about to quit serving when we finally got there, but we weren’t all that hungry after our feast at the Tavern on the Green earlier in the day.
Then he escorted us to the right subway station and sent us on our way. We made it back to the hotel just fine and felt very New Yorkish to be trotting around so late at night. I know horrible things happen to people on the streets of New York, but we never had a moment’s trouble.
The fun is almost over, but we have one more big event. Come back next week and we’ll take a little train ride.
I started my morning by checking my email and since Memory Keeping is my business, I’m always on the look out for content, something I can post to my social media channels. I’d been writing blog posts the day before, so I really wasn’t looking for another one, but this one found me anyway.
Creative Memories is a Heaven for Crafters
Creative Memories has a blog and that’s where my email took me. If you’re a crafter, you’ll love it. You’ll need all kinds of tools and materials complete the beautiful things the blog features. These particular borders require 11 various items. Each border has 3-4 easy steps (ha), or at least it seems that way, until you figure out that each “easy” step also includes 4-5 steps. You could craft away a morning with these borders.
I have nothing against crafters. I’m happy they have both the skill and the time to do the amazing things they do. Crafters, please let me be your Creative Memories Advisor. I can point you in the direction of a lifetime of craft ideas and sell you everything you’ll need to complete them – including all the totes you need for packing up to go away on that crafting weekend.
Creative Memories is Also a Resource for Memory Keepers
However, crafters have given Memory Keeping a bad name and to be honest, I get a little mad at Creative Memories for obscuring the line between memory keeping and crafting. I get it, crafters who scrapbook are probably going to buy more product than your average person who just wants to save their memories in a traditional album. However, I’m one of those people who embraced the old CM taglines – “Everyone Has a Story to Tell” and “Simple Pages, Completed Albums.” “We Make Scrapbooking Fun,” the phrase on the back of a recent catalog, just doesn’t resonate with me.
So, as I was saying, I looked at the Creative Memories blog and my hair stood on end. Sure, the bear borders are really cute, but I’m not sharing the post on my Facebook feed without a disclaimer. Most of my clients are incredibly busy people who hire me to scrapbook for them. They want an economical answer to their Memory Mess, whether they’re attempting to tackle some of it themselves or they’re turning the whole project over to me. I offer them an affordable album package, which includes all labor and materials, and my clients love the results, but I assure you, none of these borders will be in one of my standard albums. My standard albums are simply beautiful and I can complete them in a couple of weeks, but they’re all Memory Keeping, with only a touch of crafting.
I’m a Devoted Memory Keeper Who Can Also Craft
That being said, if you’re a crafter, go visit the CM blog I mentioned, go to CMTV, soak up their YouTube Channel. There’s a lifetime of crafting there. Get after it. I love it, too.
I want you to know that if you hire me to do your albums for you, I can craft, but I also need you to understand, specialty albums have to cost more. I have stacks and stacks of papers, drawers of punches, boxes of stickers and a variety of other tools on shelves and in baskets. Heck, I even have a Cricut! No matter how simple the album, I find ways to use my toys in quick bites. I am a Closet Crafter, whose day job is Memory Keeping.
However, there’s no package price for a specialty album. I work on a time and materials basis, keeping track of every minute and every sticker. Elaborate titles and borders will fill every page, with thick layers of beautifully crafted paper enhancements. It’s the perfect gift for a bride or a new mother. It’s a vacation album you’ll cherish. However, the timeline for it could be anywhere from a month to six weeks. The materials used will add up, but it will be the time which takes the biggest bite of your budget.
Back to Basics
Here’s the bottom line. Memory Keeping does not require crafting skills. If you want to do this yourself. I promise you can do it. If you’re looking for an affordable way to get someone else to do it for you, I’m your girl. At the same time, if you are a crafter, there just aren’t any projects out there as meaningful as Memory Keeping.
In other words, Memory Keeping is job one, whether you do it or I do. Crafting is optional! So give me a call and lets get busy saving your memories!!
I hope Memory Keepers, Crafters and Travelers will keep coming back. Tomorrow I’ll have The Weekend Report, next Wednesday we’ll be traveling and then a week from now I’ll be keeping more memories.
My mom left me with a long list of travel must-do’s. Never mind I’d managed to go places she never saw. She wanted me to be sure and see the things she had seen or things she had wanted to see, but never made it. Like the Tower of London. She went to England twice and never made it to the Tower to see the Crown Jewels. I’ve done that. She loved Windsor Castle. I still haven’t been there. The list goes on.
Last year I knocked off a biggie – the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. Now I was in New York, ticking more things off her list. Certainly, the Metropolitan Museum of Art was high on her list, but so was Tavern on the Green. For many years I despaired of ever getting to Tavern on the Green, because it closed down for a while. Not as in a pandemic casualty, but long before that. Various New Yorkers and the City of New York were squabbling over everything from trademarks to vendor’s licenses. According to Wikipedia, Trump (yes, that Trump) came in and made the necessary renovation happen and now the Tavern is back in all its glory.
While I wanted to tick as many items off Mom’s New York list as I could, I also had my own preferences to consider. So, I chose the Frick over the Guggenheim or MOMA and I had the Tavern on the Green as a possibility, instead of a must. Part of me wanted to go ahead and make reservations for that Saturday afternoon, but the other part didn’t want the pressure of rushing through the Frick.
So, with the Frick behind me, we strolled across Central Park (a treat in itself) and made our way to the Tavern. Something I had read told me to go ask for a seat in the bar. Reservations are hard to come by and expensive if you don’t show up, but apparently you could always just ask to sit at the bar.
When the girl looked up and said, “Do you have reservations?”, with a smirk that said, “You out of towners never have a reservation,” I smiled and said, “We’d like to sit in the bar.” We were seated immediately.
I’d like to say we were waited on immediately, also, but that did not happen. We were virtually there forever. I ordered a burger, the most expensive one I’ve ever had and proceeded to enjoy our time in the Tavern.
As we sat there, waiting first for a drink, then for a menu, then for another drink, then to place our order and then the decade to get our food, we watched the entire bar area fill up. The patio outside had been full when we got there and stayed full the whole time. The rest of the restaurant was full, also.
When I finally got the most expensive hamburger I’d ever ordered, it was delicious. I wouldn’t say the best I’d ever had, but certainly a good one. Deborah also liked whatever it was that she ordered, but we agreed the price was prohibitive. Maybe if Mr. Trump invited me to be his guest, I’d go back, but probably, I won’t be back.
The Subway Challenges Us
We had tickets to the other Met this evening – The Metropolitan Opera – but the next day we would be venturing into New Jersey via the train. Deborah was a little anxious about how all that was going to come down, so we decided to make a trial run.
For once, the Subway and its app were not our friends. Apparently, a lot of maintenance happens on Saturdays, when the traffic on the subway is lighter than weekdays. When we’d visited Grand Central Station the day before, Deborah had gotten some information that should have helped us find our way, but that information did not take into account the Saturday maintenance and the app, wasn’t really helpful.
With a little difficulty, Deborah was able to find Penn Station, which is where we needed to catch the train. She found a very helpful agent that walked her through the whole process and relieved her mind. Then we tried to return to our hotel. That did not go as well.
The Metro app and the construction signs were taking us around in circles. We finally left the underground and hit the sidewalk to figure out where we were. That’s when my handy dandy analog maps came in very handily. I’d been referring to them all week, but when electronics failed us, what a blessing those little books were. They helped us get to another part of the subway system not being worked on and then back to our hotel.
It was time to go to the Opera. Come back next week and enjoy the highlight of our trip. We did save the best for last!!
So, sometime during the winter, Bill built a bunch of shelves in my attic. Yes, we have separate attics. What that means is that I get most of the larger attic. Now he built those shelves so he could navigate more easily to his stuff, but I’m not going to complain, because shelves are shelves and I love them.
However, winter is not an optimum time to reorganize your attic, so I used the shelves to make Bill a path to his stuff and went on with my life, waiting for better attic weather. While winter is not optimal for attic cleaning, summer in Texas is impossible, so when spring hit, I started on the project. I began with a corner of the attic with books and games, but lo and behold my shelves were broken. So, I unloaded everything on Monday, but Bill didn’t get around to fixing them until the last thing Sunday evening.
That left my guest bedroom looking like a storage room, but to tell the truth, it had already been leaning that way, which was the second impetus for reorganizing the attic. Frustrated in my efforts to complete that job, I started working on summer-izing my closet. A lot of my clothes can be worn year round, especially since this is Texas, but I do have seasonal stuff and I keep the off-season on a third row of hanging bar in my closet.
Switching out the season in my closet is a big job and I made it bigger this year by forcing myself to actually try on everything that was going to stay in the to-wear area. Last year I lost down to my goal weight, but before I had any time to enjoy it, I got a monster case of hives, which threw all my discipline out the window. I couldn’t exercise and the meds turned me into an eating machine. That made me angry, which caused me to eat more and for months I just hid beneath those finger tip sweaters and coats I love to wear, trying to ignore those extra pounds.
In March, I worked on a serious attitude improvement program and at the end of it, I bit the bullet and started back on Noom. I’d say I know at least ten health and fitness coaches, but I’m just not into smoothies and supplements, so I go it alone with a little app to make me accountable. I’m having a rough start with a lots of up and down, but that’s the nature of weight loss at my age, so as long as I stay on the plan and the overall direction is down, I’m trying to suffer the spikes with grace.
A lot of people go on diets so they can buy new clothes in a different size. I go on diets so I can get back into the clothes I already have. After my time in the closet last week, I have four feet of summer clothes I can’t wear and at least four feet of clothes that I wish were too big. Segregating the too small stuff saves me time when I’m getting ready, but also provides a great motivation to stay on track with my diet, because those clothes I can’t wear are my favorites.
But wait, just going through my clothes did not satisfy that urge to purge. Next, I attacked the drawers and cabinets in my bathroom. On Good Friday I woke up with the same organizing bug, decided to skip the new networking meeting I had intended to attend and headed back into my closet. The hanging clothes were all organized, but the rest of it also needed a purge. All of this resulted in more stuff for the attic. So, Saturday night I moved all that next to the stairwell and carried it upstairs on Sunday. No, you do not want to see my upstairs right now, but Bill finally fixed the shelves, so guess what I did with all my “spare time” this week!
Good Friday
When I was a little kid, my parents did the whole Easter thing, but somewhere along the way, my dad quit going to Christmas and Easter services. He said he went the rest of the year, so he was going to make room for all the visitors. For years, we stayed away from church on these big attendance days. Once I was on my own, I did not follow his lead, but this year I was going to.
If you’ve been keeping up, Bill and I are church shopping, again, a job we don’t particularly enjoy, but becomes necessary from time to time. We’ve visited several churches with varying degrees of success, but haven’t found the one. Last week, Bill just wasn’t up to it and this week I wasn’t. So, when my bestie called and invited us to join her for Good Friday services, that was a good way to work in some worship without visiting a strange church – her church is my old church. It was a great service and I enjoyed seeing my friends.
Afterwards, we went to Casa Mama, again. It’s her favorite. I’m on a diet, so I didn’t care.
Good Saturday
My plans for Saturday underwent many changes. Initially, I was going to meet my Dot friends, of the local Polka Dot Powerhouse chapter, for a walk. However, the organizer got sick and I was the only “for sure” attendee, so I redirected my exercise endeavors to my gym. Then I came home and organized my earrings for a while, which was the last job in organizing my closet.
I had been going to go meet my bestie on the other side of town after my walk, which would have been at the end of her dance lesson, but without the walk, it made more sense for us to meet on our own side of town. So she came and picked me up. For lunch, we went to one of my favorites, Fable & Fire. Yes, I know the service is slow and they’re a tad bit expensive, but I love the vibe. It was my first Saturday visit, so I was pleased to discover they have live music on Saturday afternoon. It made for a pleasant lunch. I had the salad with the fruit and nuts – yummy!!
After lunch I got back to my earrings and finished up the closet job. Hubby was taking a nap on the sofa, so I sat down to read a little, which turned into a lot.
Good Sunday
Since I always wake up early, so matter whether I need to or not, I used the time to get ahead on my weekday tasks by doing some social media stuff. Bill and I shared a quiet coffee time together, then we went out in the yard for some of that unpleasant, but necessary stuff that needed to be done.
Afterwards, I got cleaned up, because we were supposed to be going out to run some errands, but when I walked out cute and ready to roll, someone was relaxing on the couch. So, I started reading again. He changed couches and I moved to the couch he vacated to continue reading. I was getting chilly and thought about changing clothes, but it seemed as if we were going to have an at home day, so I decided to just change into lounging clothes. The minute I sat back down on the couch, he was ready to roll, so I changed again, but this time into something a little warmer.
We needed to buy a birthday gift for a nephew and the last time I’d been to the Dallas Museum of Art, the gift shop had a good assortment of cute kid stuff. So, we went there, only to discover all the cute kid stuff had sold out. Nada! So, we just enjoyed the museum for awhile. We spent most of our time in the European Art, something we hadn’t done in a while and I must say I liked what was on display. Some old favorites were in different spots and there were other items I either hadn’t seen in a while or didn’t remember ever seeing.
From the museum we went to Fadi’s. He likes the schwerma and I love the veggies. It was delicious as always. Next stop the grocery store, then home again, home again jiggedy jig.
For a girl on a diet I sure did eat well this weekend, but it was a lot of salad and veggies, so nothing to feel guilty about. Come back next week for some more of New York and the usual Memory Keeping 101. Then we’ll see how I did on my diet this week and if I got my attic back together!
While it would have been very easy to spend every waking hour of my New York week at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I didn’t, because I want to feel as if I know any city I visit, not just hit the top site. That’s why we stomped all over Mid-Town and Lower Manhattan, as well as taking advantage of the subway. Hopefully, some day, I will get back to The Met, but I needed more than one museum to know New York.
You could museum into perpetuity in New York. They have a little of everything. Museums like MOMA and Guggenheim are better known, but once I’d read about the Frick Mansion overlooking Central Park, I knew it was the choice for me. My choice was tested when I discovered they were renovating the mansion and a selection of the best items had been moved to a temporary home called Frick Madison, but reading through a list of items in the collection, I kept the Frick on my list.
While the Frick was no further away than our stroll to the Met, at this point of the vacation, less steps are better. As we ate meal bars in our hotel room (we were dead tired of their breakfasts and I could not face another egg) Deb pulled out her handy dandy Metro app and discovered we’d need bus service to get close to the Frick. So with the help of the app, we took the bus. It dropped us into a completely different world a few blocks from our destination.
This was residential New York, the Upper East Side and plenty swanky I will let you know. This was a quiet Saturday morning. We saw a few joggers. There were mommies and daddies out with the latest style of preambulars. We were on hallowed ground.
Coming to Madison Avenue, we made a left and continued to enjoy our surroundings. We arrived on the doorstep of the Frick with time to kill, so I backtracked to a small convenience store I’d seen along the way. You know those movies where someone steps into a small crowded bodega and is suddenly swept up in a robbery or a mugging? Yeah, well this wasn’t that place. The proprietors were oriental. Everything was neat, nothing was crowded and yet the space seemed to have a little of anything you might need.
I was in dire need of caffeine and I was ready to take it in whatever form I could get it, but to my absolute delight, they had my beloved Diet Dr Pepper in a screw top bottle. I could drink what I needed and save the rest for later. I was jubilant. I don’t think anyone had ever been jubilant in their store. They smiled and nodded, but I could tell they wanted the crazy person to leave and return them to their previously quiet and neat atmosphere.
Then it was Frick time. The first floor is a functional floor with offices, ticket sales and a store. We walked into the first gallery on the second floor. Holbiens, Hals and other fabulous painters from Holland and the Netherlands. Then BAM, the Rembrandt self portrait we all know. We may not even know it is a Rembrandt self portrait, but we’ve all seen the guy with a mustache in a funny hat, washed in golden light. A roomful of Van Dykes and three of the only 34 Vermeers which exist in the world today. We’re only in the first set of galleries and we’ve already seem more Old Master paintings than most bigger museums have in their entire collection!
The third floor has many of the decorative arts, which many of you will recall is my absolute favorite thing in a museum. Carpets, porcelain (so much Meissan) and of all things, clocks. There was a lot of Italian art of all varieties and in the Spanish section, several El Greco’s, which I love.
The decorative arts also filled the fourth floor and these were French – oooh la la! Not in necessarily in manufacture, but taste – think Sèvres and Meissan. Continuing on the fourth floor was a gallery filled with Frangonard’s Progress of Love. Like the Rembrandt self-portrait, these are paintings you’ve seen reproductions of all your life. To see them in person and all together was stunning.
Then, as if you are not already gob-smocked from all you’ve seen, there is a room of Impressionist paintings, finishes out the floor. Not a comprehensive collection, but stunning nonetheless. At that point, I just wanted to go back to the second floor and do it all over, but other entertainments beckoned and we were hungry!
If I went back to New York tomorrow, I would first go to The Met and then back to the Frick – and hopefully, the renovation of the mansion would be over and I could see these masterworks in their usual venue, placed in his gorgeous home, just as Mr. Frick thought they should be. Then I would go to the Guggenheim and MOMA. The Frick is just that good.
But it’s lunch time! Come back next week and we’ll cross Central Park to the Tavern on the Green.
Traveling is my thing and every year, when the Travel & Adventure Show comes to town, I feed that passion. I remember the first year I happened into it with my hubby at the Dallas Convention Center. He was more excited about the Belly Dancers on the Global Beats Stage and I didn’t worry him by picking up every brochure in sight, like I do these days, but I knew I’d found something.
The next year, bestie went with me and a tradition was born. We schedule our day around various speakers, grab every brochure that even slightly interests us and get our picture made at the photo booth. It’s a good time.
This year she had a dance lesson and we met afterwards. Confession, the last few times we’d been, it want’s the marvelous hit it had been in those first few years and we couldn’t even blame it on Covid. Somewhere along the way they’d moved to Dallas Market Hall and it just wasn’t what it had been. So, bestie and I decided we didn’t need to rush over there. We could have lunch first. I mean we’re not about to miss it, it had just fallen short in helpfulness since it first came along.
So, we grabbed lunch at Torchy’s Tacos, near one of her dance studios. We have one in Rockwall, but I rarely get there. In truth, I think it’s a little pricey for street tacos, but that’s me. This time it was well over $20, basically for fast food, but I did splurge and get a specialty margarita. It was bigger than the standard margarita and while Deb complained her regular margarita was a tad tart, mine was awesome.
Then it was on to Dallas Market Center. This year did not feature some of the big name travel types we’d seen in the past, but I thought it was an improvement over the last few years. The first time it was at DMC it was pathetic and the Covid years were tough, but we’ve hung in there and this year it really was worth the effort. It’s easy to be worth the price, because it was only $10. What else can you do for $10.
We started off with “How to Travel Solo, from the Experts” in the Savvy Traveler Theater, for Deb, who is contemplating a test drive in the world of Solo Travel. There had been a similar seminar last year, but it had been a total waste of time. This year was better – marginally so, but better. Deb was encouraged to discover more and more companies are doing away with an upcharge for solo travelers, but disappointed the cruise industry is slowest on the uptake.
The next seminar was right back in the same place, but it was Gabe Saglie of Travel Zoo talking about “How to Prioritize Travel in Uncertain Economic Times. He talked a lot about trends and offered up travel tips, but his goal in life was to get us to sign up for Travel Zoo. He made it sound good enough, that I actually just did so.
We immediately went to “”The Insider’s Guide to Visiting Arizona Parks,” but the seminar was misnamed. It should have been, “Look What I Did.” Some lady who worked for the Arizona Office of Tourism spent the time showing videos which are on the National Parks’ websites. Apparently, she had been tasked with making the National Parks websites more accessible and she was very proud of her videos. Thank you, I know how to use the internet. You have wasted my time. She got away with showing one. We left when she started showing the second one. She may have made the websites more accessible to the general public, but she made her presentation a real snorefest.
Next up was “Cruise Tips, Trends and Personal Stories from Our Adventures at Sea,” in the big Travel Theater. This seminar was also misnamed. It was an advertisement for Princess cruises to Alaska. The MC for this talk was Alanna Zingano, a social media travel influencer (No, thank you!) and Jeff Corwin. I confess, he looked a lot like Steve Irwin, the Australian Nature Dude who got killed by a stingray, so I thought he was that guy’s son. Not so. Somehow Jeff Corwin has gotten a job as the Nature & Adventure Ambassador, probably because I’m not the only one who thinks he’s Steve Irwin’s son. Anyway, Alaska is not at the top of my travel list and Deb has been four times, so that was a loser.
The final seminar of the day was probably the best. Someone named David McGuffin did a talk titled, “Exploring Europe: Top Destinations, Attractions and Experiences.” Of course, he was advertising his European travel company.
David and our friend from Travel Zoo were the most informative guys at the travel show, but I wish that wasn’t giving them more credit than they deserve. In the past, we’ve seen Samantha Brown, Rick Steves and other travel luminaires behind the podium. So, it was not a star-studded event. However, they have ramped up the quality of their vendors and I felt as if it was more worth the trip than it had been in recent years.
David Solomon at the Biblical Arts Museum
The other big event for the weekend was an opening reception for a new exhibition at the Biblical Arts Museum. I’m not sure how I get on these lists, but the museum invited me to opening of the “Flowers of the Holy Land” Exhibit. A little honesty here. I’m not really fond of this museum. It’s mostly a warehouse for copies of various religious art – including Thomas Kinkade prints. They also cram entirely to much stuff into the space they have, so actually enjoying one of their oversized look-alikes is difficult to do.
I can’t say I walked away from this exhibit with much more respect for what they are doing. Bill and I both thought an exhibit of my own photographs from the Dallas ARboretum would offer better photography and certainly FOREVER would have done a better job printing the large format photos. The refreshments offered were bad wine and bagels – a little odd, but the jazz band which played was actually pretty good.
Glad I went, so I know what’s up. I wonder if the exhibit will be there later this month when the Crowley Chamber Concert will be. While I’m not crazy about the museum, I do love the Crowley Chamber Concert Series.
For now, I must run! See you next week for travel, memory keeping and another weekend report.
jane sadek 