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two things happen when you go to bed at 8:30…

1 Apr

…you write your bizarro late night blog posts at the early hour of 12:30am and you analyze an art heist that happened 22 years ago.

Today/yesterday/whatever has been good and bad. Kiddo had her first Easter egg hunt ever today after church services and totally killed it. She was VERY serious about the egg hunting business. You would have thought she was searching for the secret of life out there on that playground, she was quite thorough. Heh. That’s my girl. Anything for the candy. Part of which mommy may or may not have eaten for dinner but that’s neither here nor there. You know, you think rock bottom is sitting in a random parking lot eating a box of Swiss Cake Rolls, all the while berating yourself for doing so, but then you find yourself tip-toeing into the kitchen after everyone is asleep and picking through your child’s Easter booty looking for Reeses Cups to eat in bed. And you realize, that maybe the parking lot Little Debbies episode isn’t so bad after all.

But about that stolen artwork…I had the opportunity to attend a swanky event at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum a few days ago. It was quite beautiful and lovely, the perfect place for a fairytale wedding with a historic artsy theme, if you’re into that. But was interested me more was learning that the largest art heist in history happened here in 1990. You can read about it here, here and here. Go ahead I’ll wait, its really quite interesting in that film noir, art caper, whodunnit kind of way.

Art heists have always intrigued me as a romantic type of crime, if there is such a thing. Its also a very selfish one, as the thieves aren’t just stealing from the museum, they’re stealing from all of us. But still, you gotta hand it to them, you have to be pretty gutsy and creative to figure out how to breach museum security and walk out with famous paintings by the likes of Rembrandt and Degas. And then, what do you do with them? You can’t just unload them on eBay. Its the stuff of foreign films and fast European cars. It’s fascinating to me.

The Gardner museum has done a pretty cool thing and left the blank places on the walls where the artwork used to be. It’s a constant reminder of what happened and shows hope for their eventual return. Of course, I had to be a smarty pants and say to the guard on duty, “this didn’t happen on your watch did it”? He gave me a dirty look. Some people just don’t get my snark, art museum guards being just one of many.

You know what’s funny? That Easter candy gave me heartburn. I’m sensing a pattern.

celebrating the working man’s lunch

21 Jun

Small towns take their festivals quite seriously. Are you a high school beauty queen or pulling a float with your granddad’s tractor in the parade? Instant small town celebrity status! I grew up going to the Iris Festival every year and have been known to attend a Strawberry Festival or two but never made it to the Teapot Festival. There is a festival for EVERYTHING. Including RC Colas and Moon Pies.

Kiddo and I had a fabulous time at this one and it was quite phenomenal.We didn’t stay as long as I’d like, due to this momma juggling a stroller, a cooler with packed lunch and a two year old. I was worn out. Not to mention the massive downpour that hit us right after the bluegrass band played. But we met my adorable sister-in-law and another friend there and had a big ol’ time in the few hours that we were there. I do regret that we missed the clogging (kiddo would have LOVED that) and the world’s largest moon pie though. Next year, next year.

I politely shoved my way with kiddo to a prime seat on the side of the road so we could see the parade properly. This gave us prime views of the local tv station news anchors (grand marshals I think? or King and Queen? and what is a Grand Marshal anyway? another small town celebrity thing I think, of the highest caliber) and Snowbird, a local weather mascot. Abraham Lincoln gave kiddo a small American Flag which she thought was the coolest thing ever. Kiddo, not being big on the patriotic theme, kept calling the guy dressed up like Uncle Sam a “clown”. Guess with the hat and the colorful outfit that makes sense.

Then it was time for lunch by the stage while listening to Mountain Cove Bluegrass and watching some ladies do an impromptu jig or two. Various prizes of the moon pie and RC cola variety were given out to the oldest attendee, the youngest, and whoever had traveled the farthest. It was cheesy and cute and quirky.

Here’s some pics although sis-in-law took way better ones. Bell Buckle is a charming little town and the refreshments ain’t bad either.

Lunch by the stage. On haybales of course!

Mountain Cove Bluegrass...talented guys!

Moon Pies in the parade...THEY'RE ALIVE!!!

The RCs were alive, too!!!

Proud kiddo with her flag

poe fo’ sho’

20 Jan

I realize that perhaps I should change the title of this blog to something like “The pregnant lady goes back to school and has a dog too” but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it as “Finnspace”, and it’s too long, so I’m leaving it as is.  I know that’s about all I write about lately but that’s pretty much what my life has become over the past several weeks so there ya go. 

Continuing that trend, I do want to post about my first official class as a grad student but first, something quirky and intriguing, to me at least.  I love stuff like this.

Undeterred by controversy, a mysterious visitor paid his annual tribute at the grave of Edgar Allan Poe early Saturday, placing three red roses and a half-filled bottle of cognac before stealing away into the darkness.

I’ll be in the city of the Ravens, (hey, it just occurred to me, is that why they’re called the Ravens, because of the Poe poem? Or is that too literary a thought for the gridiron?) and the Orioles this spring.  Wonder if I’ll have time to check out the Poe House and Museum?  Heh, that puts a whole new spin on being “in the poe house” doesn’t it?  Yuk yuk yuk, I slay me.

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