Murillo Flats

This building is Murillo Flats and was the last stop on the Sherman Hill Walking Tour. It was built in 1905 and was an early example of an architectural form emerging in Des Moines at the turn of the century...'flats' or as we call them now, apartments. This building was originally named "McNamara Flats" after its builder, James McNamara. He changed the name to "Murillo Flats" after Des Moines hosted a very successful art exhibit of the work of Bartolome Esteban Murillo, a Spanish painter circa 1617-1682. The building's original site was 3 blocks from where it now sits. It was moved over a 2 day period in March of this year during a very wet Iowa storm. Videographers from the History Channel filmed the move which will be shown soon on National Geographic's "Monster Moves" series. The building's current owner, Phil Kaser, plans to renovate it and rent out apartments in it for the next 5 years. After that, he told me, it all depends on the condo market; he may sell the apartments as condos or sell the whole building to another visionary.

A Fall Tradition

I moved back to Iowa in 2003, and every fall since then, I've wanted to do the Sherman Hill Walking Tour that is held the last two weekends in September. I always put it off and then miss both weekends. This year I made it happen! Sherman Hill is the historic neighborhood close to where I work that I would really like to move into. Alas, I haven't sold my country acreage...that's a whole other blog entry...but I spent yesterday afternoon enjoying the warm fall weather while I visited 9 properties on this year's tour. And in the process, I delighted in two serendipitious surprises.

The tour began here at Hoyt Sherman Place where I bought my ticket and picked up the tour map. Built in the Italinate style in 1877 by Hoyt Sherman who was a Des Moines businessman, the mansion today is home to the Des Moines Women's Club and also boasts a beautifully restored theatre as well as an art gallery. After browsing through the gallery, I noticed that the stage lights were on in the theatre. I entered the dimmed auditorium and discovered my first serendipity...the Des Moines Sweet Adelines who were rehearsing for their evening performance. I settled into a plush seat and listened as they sang through their numbers. Such sweet harmony, such exuberant energy! Then stepping out to direct...my friend, Diana Latch! I know Diana from work, and we talked once about her involvement with the Sweet Adelines. There she was directing, singing, dancing, cajoling her chorus to put more bounce in it, sing out, have fun! What a delight to see my friend in an entirely different setting than the hospital disaster and emergency planning sessions where we usually meet!

The rest of the tour beckoned, though, so leaving the music behind, I started walking the streets. The properties on the map reflected a variety of architectural styles from the late 1800s...Queen Anne, Victorian, Colonial Revival, Victorian Stick...all open to tour. Some were exquisitely restored, some were restored, but decorated in modern styles, one house was new, but built to look Victorian. Each had a fascinating story. There were also selected businesses and historic buildings on the map. My second serendipity came as I walked up 16th Street to the Wallace House Foundation. I could hear soft strains of classical piano music floating on the warm summer air. It was coming from the open windows of a 4-square brownstone next to Wallace House. I spoke to the men marking tickets on the porch. "What a great job you have this afternoon...you get to sit on this cool, shady porch, greet people and listen to that beautiful classical music!" I could see the man sitting at his grand piano through an open window. "Yes," the men replied, "and do you know who that is? That's Ed Fallon who ran for Governor last term." "Imagine that," I quipped. "A politician who can actually do something useful and creative!"

More on the rest of the afternoon later....

Roseman Bridge

This is Roseman Bridge made famous by the movie, The Bridges of Madison County. It's very pretty. The area around it is kept up by the folks who also own the small gift shop just behind where I took this pciture. They keep the little meadow mowed and the wooden stairs up to their shop in good repair. The bridge spans the Middle River, but is open only to foot traffic now. Built in 1883, it was completely renovated in 1992 at a cost of $152,515.00.

As I approached the bridge, I noticed these red painted ledges on either side of it. Those round, shiny things are coins! Seems like folks use the ledges much like wishing wells...tossing coins and making a wish! My assumption is that most of the wishes have to do with love and relationships, ala Robert and Franchesca from the movie. Hmm-m-m...been there, done that, and don't see myself going there again. So, I tossed a couple of coins (yes, they landed right where they were supposed to!), but my wish wasn't about a man. It was about love, though! Can you guess what it was?

Here's a hint: Je t'aime Paris et Provence!

"Oh, What a Beautiful Morning!"

Do you remember Oklahoma, that 'corny' musical? There's a song in it that I can't get out of my mind the past few days. "Oh, what a beautiful morning...there's a bright golden haze on the meadow...the corn is as high as an elephant's eye and it looks like it's growing right up to the sky!" Until I moved to Iowa, I thought those lyrics were simply creative hyperbole. Then I saw real corn, acres and acres of corn. The corn pictured here is growing in the field across the road from my house. I took this picture standing in that gravel road, looking up at the corn. You can see it's starting to dry and turn brown. Farmers will be anxiously checking moisture content in the next few weeks to determine exactly the right time to harvest it; if they pick too early, they'll have to pay the elevator to dry it down. This will eat into their profits. Soon enough, tho, the fields will hum with the engines of corn pickers and combines bringing in the corn and soybean harvest of 2008.

We don't have many elephants roaming around Iowa, but I think the tassels on this corn would definitely tickle the eyeballs of any passing pachyderm!

Autumn in Iowa Part 2

The wildflowers of summer are beginning to fade as fall approaches. They kind of bloom themselves to death! Growth during the hot, humid, rainy summer runs rampant...it's almost a relief to watch it slow down as it cools off. I know I really appreciate being able to mow the yard every 10 days instead of every 5-6 days during the height of summer. Most of what is blooming now is yellow; I don't have a clue about the real names. When I was in Yellowstone, yellow flowers were all lumped together as "DYC's" or damned yellow composites. No one else could remember the yellow names either. So here are some DYC's growing the ditch along the road where I walked Lucie yesterday.

Here are photos of other ditch plants. The yellow one is goldenrod more commonly known as ragweed. It causes a lot of grief this time of year in the form of sneezing, stuffy noses and teary eyes...not a favorite flower of very many people!

The seed pods are from the milkweed plant.

They swell and burst in late summer spewing their seeds in cottony fluff that gets caught on passing animals or drifts on the wind to new ground.

Autumn in Iowa

I see the autumanl equinox on the calendar next week. It is, indeed, changing over into fall in Iowa. There has been a shift in weather patterns ( thank goodness!) from hot and sticky to warm and dry. Daytime temps creep up into the 80s, but it's cooling to the 50s or even lower at night. Ah-h-h! Indian summer in all its glory. I love it! You don't have to watch the thermometer to recognize when fall arrives, though. You only need to observe the grasses and flowers along roadsides or in areas not under cultivation. The premier fall grass is big bluestem (adropogon gerardii) shown in the picture. The common name for the grass is "turkey foot" as its trefoil seed spikes resemble the track of the wild turkey. It has reached its full height and has begun to set its seeds. This is a native prairie grass, part of the tall grass prairie that covered the central United States before the plow. As you travel further west, this grass gives way to little bluestem, a shorter, more dense grass that made up the short grass prairies of the high plains. The buffalo followed these grasses; other animals...elk, deer, grizzly bears...made their home here as well before the settlers drove them west.

Several years ago, Bob and I restored many acres of our southern Iowa farm to native grass. He would burn off the dried grass every spring replacing valuable nutrients to the soil and mimicking the vast prairie grass fires of prehistory. It would emerge a few days later brilliant green against the charred soil. During the long, hot, humid days of summer, it grew and grew and grew reaching heights of over 8 feet. Towards the end of summer, we would turn our buffalo out into it. What a sight to watch 200 buffalo with their calves stampede into the fields....only to disappear in the grass! The only clue that they were there was the gently waving tips of the seed heads against the sky!

My Friend, Edith

I often mention my friend, Edith, in my blog entries. She's a dear friend whom I don't get to see often enough. I always enjoy her visits. While she didn't think this was such a great picture of her, I like it because it shows one of the things I like best about Edith...her great smile and fun-to-be-with personality. On this visit in early September, we enjoyed dinner out, a day of antiquing, a movie (see Mamma Mia! post), and shopping at a great place in Adel, IA...Atherton House. I discovered this shop a few years ago; it's where I buy my yearly santon. I was pleased to see santons made by the Fouque family during my visits to Provence. We also attended church, St. Timothy's Episcopal, in West Des Moines. Edith's father was an Episcopal priest. Imagine her surprise when our priest, Mary, mentioned Father Fly in her homily...a priest that Edith's father knew well when they lived in Wichita! Edith is researching her family's "Father Fly" stories which I'll share with Mary.

It's another one of those connection things that fascinate me so much!

Mamma Mia!

Am I the last person on the planet to know about Mamma Mia!?

I think so...if the number of blog posts I found about the movie when I Googled for an image is any indication. Everyone has an opinion about this fun movie! The stage production was in Des Moines a couple of years ago, and a work colleague got hooked after seeing it at the Civic Center. She'd drag me into her office to listen to the soundtrack, she'd shimmy to the music, she'd sing along...and try to entice me to do the same. I was a bit puzzled. Yes, I'm the age to remember ABBA and their music. I'll even confess I have a vinyl copy of their greatest hits. (Does anyone out there even remember vinyl LP's??) But I couldn't quite understand her enthusiasm. Until a couple of weeks ago when my friend, Edith, and I went to see the movie when she was here on a visit. It's not great drama or an Oscar-contender, that's for sure. But it is FUN! The music is infectious, the cast looks as if they are truly having a good time together, and the scenery is spectacular. Is there anything that Meryl Streep can't pull off? Edith and I sang "Dancing Queen" all the way home!

I bought the soundtrack for the movie. Now it's my turn to drag people into my office while I dance and sing along with the music. "Listen to this...isn't it fun??" I have to admit they all look a bit puzzled when they leave!

Blogging

I've been pretty lazy about blogging this past week. The week-long door challenge about did me in! It's hard to blog every single day; hats off to those who manage to do that. Plus once I got the 'bug' I just had to check out everyone's blog that was participating in the challenge. It's like an addiction--I couldn't help myself! So, this week I've been doing a 'blog cleanse.' I've been checking my regular blog stops, but haven't even thought about doing an entry myself.

My brother, Jim, called last night. He's probably my most avid blog fan. He and Beth, his fiance, read my blog faithfully, and he always comments on something I've written when he calls. It's very weird...people who I thought would read my blog, don't; Jim does even though I didn't think he'd be interested at all. What's up with that? Blogging is a fun way to stay connected with him.

It's also been a fun way to connect with people I don't even know. I read Heaven in Belgium regularly and have found a kindred soul in Jientje, its creator. She and I love Provence, especially Goult. Reading Polly-Vous Francais daily also led me to Painting Paris. I almost feel as if I know Polly and Mary Blake just from reading their blogs. Paris Daily Photo keeps me in touch with my favorite city. Eric, its creator, has supplied me with some great notecards created from his photos, as well as my 2009 wall calendar. Peter of Peter's Paris has piqued my interest about some new places to visit on my next trip to Paris. Isabelle doesn't have a blog, but she occasionally visits mine and leaves a fun comment. She translated a sign for me that she saw on one of my door posts. She lives outside of Paris, so I always appreciate her French take on my posts!

Nathalie lives in Avignon and posts the most beautiful photos on her blog. I discovered a blog written by Jo Ann that's all about Saignon and the Luberon area...my favorite Provencal place. She and I have emailed; she actually lives in Michigan, but spends much of the year living in Saignon. I may arrange language lessons with her when I get to Provence again as she's a retired French teacher.

Blogging has totally opened up my world to new people and new experiences. And to think...my Texas friend started it all. Thanks, Randi...my love to you and the other 5 Dukes!

One Last Door

The door challenge is over, but I couldn't resist posting one last door. This one is a painted garage door in Roussillon. It's one of Marie's favorite doors; every trip she makes to Provence, she has someone take her picture in front of it. It's on one of the little village streets, not in a major tourist area. I think it's lovely. Whoever keeps it painted (it's refreshed periodically...much brighter and more vivid this trip than in 2005) is obviously a talented artist.

As I looked through my photo archives, I was surprised to see how many pictures of doors I have from my visits to France. I'm not sure why this is except that doors seem to be a part of the French artistic culture, perhaps a way to add a touch of beauty to the stone facades of the village buildings?

PS...from the last post...door of possibility: I looked at an enlarged version of the photo and see that the sign is for a beauty shop! Not sure what 'electrique' is all about...maybe electric curling???

Door of Possibility

As I wandered around the periphery of Goult looking for the entrance to the cemetery, I happened on this battered and overgrown door. I can't quite read the sign, but I believe this was a business at one time; something about 'electric?' It's obviously shuttered and unused now, which got my imagination and creative juices flowing. Could I buy it? Would it make a good spot for a small art gallery? a bookstore? how about a combination art gallery, bookstore, coffee shop? Every time I look at this photo those thoughts race through my mind because on my first morning in Goult as I pushed open the shutters of my bedroom window, I whispered to myself..."I will live here someday!" I don't know how that will ever happen, but it will. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the door to that possibility.

Door to Antiquity?

Welcome to Les Bories. While bories and their equivalents can be found all over the world, this borie is in a national historic site outside the Provencal village of Gordes. An enclave of these stone structures is preserved there. This borie was a dwelling; others were used for keeping livestock, storing grain, as bake houses, and for silkworm production. The huts have minimal windows making them dark, but the ones used as houses have built in ledges for sitting and sleeping, stone shelves for storage and fireplaces for cooking, making them quite accommodating for living. I can imagine, tho, that they were very cold in the winter. The borie doors may have been covered with either wood or hides to keep out the mistral as well as wandering critters. It's unknown how long ago these huts were inhabited, but the site may have been in use as early as the 7th century. Some bories date back to before Christ!

The history lover in me shivered with delight when I walked through these stone doors into a world of antiquity.

Springtime Door

This is another door from Provence. While I know the day I took this photo (April 20, 2007), I can't for the life of me remember which little village I was in. It's somewhere on a backroads route from Goult to Rustrel. We stopped in several villages to snoop around and take photos. This beautiful wisteria stopped me in my tracks and I took several different shots of it. It amazed me that something so beautiful could come from one skinny tree and spread onto stone walls. The red screen door looked very friendly and inviting as well. The view from this village was equally beautiful. It overlooked acres and acres of rapeseed that was in full, flowering yellow bloom. Breathtaking! I'd love to go back and see this door framed in mid-summer by its leafy green trellis or perhaps in the fall...do wisteria leaves change to a beautiful fall color?


Spring, for me, is the door that opens the year.

Jientje's Door

Here's another view of Jientje's door!

Door to Eternity

I have a confession to make...I love cemeteries! I can hear what you're thinking: "Who is this weird woman?" I can't help it, tho. Cemeteries are simply full of stories, if only you can dig them out. On my 'must do' list when I visited Paris in 2005, then, was a trip to the Pere Lachaise Cemetery in the 20th arrondissement. I made the metro trip alone as my friend with whom I was traveling didn't share my fascination for the dead. I have to admit when I surfaced, I was a bit creeped out. This part of Paris was a little seedy compared to the 6th arrondissement where we were staying. I soldiered on, however, found the cemetery, paid my 2 Euros for a map, and began to explore. This was my first experience in a cemetery where so many people were buried in above-ground crypts and tombs. Many of them were family crypts built in honor of multiple family members. They were beautiful memorials to the deceased, decorated with lovely stained glass, beautiful ironwork, ceramics, and doors such as this one. It was very art nouveau, and I couldn't resist snapping a photo of it.

Walking through this door would be a beautiful way to reach eternity.

PS...yes, I did visit Jim Morrison's grave and took pictures. I was disappointed that I couldn't find Modigliani's, tho, even with my map. He's my favorite painter. Whose grave would you want to visit???

A Friend's Door

Jientjie will love this door photo! It was taken in a tiny village in Provence, one of her favorite places. It's actually the front door of my friend's house in Goult. His name is Patrick Payet and when I took this photo in 2005, he was running both a restaurant, Le Tonneau, and his cooking school here. You can just catch a glimpse of a restaurant table set on the terrace below the steps. Patrick had closed the restaurant by my 2007 visit, but was still having cooking school. Marie and I spent an afternoon with him and two of his students learning how to prepare Provencal goodies. Dinner that night was sumptous!

I learned this winter that Patrick has sold this lovely house and moved the cooking school to Roussillon, at least temporarily. The setting there is beautiful, but for me it doesn't have the charm of this house lying in the shadows of Baron Agoult's castle. I'll miss visiting Patrick here and enjoying aperitifs on the terrace.

Imagine my surprise this summer when I found an advertisement in "Blue Sky Living" for another business housed at Place de l'ancienne Mairie in Goult. Click here to see information about that. There are even more stories about this old house, but you'll have to wait until I finish my book to learn them!

This pretty blue door no longer opens into my friend's house, but it will always open up to my memories of good times here and in Provence.

A Friends' Door

Jientje will like this door! It's in one of her favorite places....Provence. I took this photo in 2005 during my first visit to Goult, a small village in the Luberon. It's the door of a friend's house. His name is Patrick Payet and when I visited here, he ran both a restaurant, Le Tonneau, and a cooking school from this place. You can catch a glimpse of one of the restaurant's tables set up on the terrace. When I returned in 2007, Patrick had closed the restaurant, but continued to run the cooking school. Marie and I spent an afternoon with his cooking school students learning to make some yummy Provencal favorites...madelines, molten chocolate cake, and vegetables stuffed with rice, sausage, roasted red peppers, onions, garlic.

I learned this winter that Patrick has sold this quaint house and moved his cooking school to Roussillon, at least temporarily. While the new place is absolutely beautiful, it isn't the same as this pretty house lying in the shadows of Baron Agoult's castle. There are more stories connected with this stone house on Place de l'ancienne Mairie, but you'll have to buy my book to learn about those! Now that I've said that...I'll have to write it, huh?

Imagine my surprise this summer when, as I paged through a Luberon publication, "Blue Sky Living," I found an ad for another business in Patrick's house! Click here to see what that's all about.

This door no longer opens into my friend's house, but it will always open wonderful memories of times spent here and in Provence for me.

Sacred Doors

All of you photographers who are participating in Jientje's "Doors" challenge know immediately that I did not steal this photo from Mr. Google. It's woefully off-kilter and not a good photo. But these doors on the west facade of Notre Dame in Paris evoke powerful memories, and for me, that's what photos are supposed to do. When I visit Paris, I try to attend either Mass or Vespers here at least once. An interesting 'pilgrimage' for someone who isn't even Catholic! But, I adore the music and the feelings I experience in this magnificent cathedral. Even when surrounded by throngs of tourists, entering these doors takes me to a special place within myself. Yes, I even had a vision on my very first visit! It was during prayer (I know, I should have been praying instead of having visions!) when suddenly I could see in my mind's eye, thousands of faithful feet over the centuries. Feet marching, standing, processing on these same floors. Feet clad in wooden sabots, hard leather boots, delicate satin; feet of the poor, the homeless, the wealthy elite, and the ruthless. All there, just like me, to worship. That connection with history startled me momentarily, but soon gave way to delight.

On Easter Sunday 2007, Marie and I attended Mass here with thousands of others. As we left the Cathedral, its bells began ringing joyfully; all its doors were flung wide open. The miracle of Easter spilled out onto the parvis, an experience I'll never forget.

These doors, then, open onto the sacred and in turn, let the sacred flow back out into the world.

Porte de La Treille

This door opens into my B&B in Goult...La Treille. My big fat Larousse French-English dictionary defines treille as a somethig like a climbing vine or trellis. This vine is a grapevine, and although they are hard to see in the picture, there are clumps of luscious green grapes hanging over the door. A few always found their way to my breakfast plate every morning. Look above the door; you can just see the bottom of a shutter-framed window. That's 'my' bedroom, the one I ask for each time I visit Goult. The heavy wooden door opens into a cool, tiled entry hall that welcomes each visitor into Michel and Dani's lovely home. Over aperitif's in the garden one evening, I learned that this house was built by Dani's family in the late 1800's. When her parents died, she and Michel inherited it and decided to open it for a few guests. They are gracious hosts, full of fun and laughter. They don't have a website to show off their beautifully Provencal home, but you can reach them for more information regarding rates and room availability at: latreille.goult@cegetel.net.



Many people look at doors and see barriers that keep out strangers and dangers or barriers that keep in secrets and mysteries. I see doors a bit differently. To me, doors are openings into new adventures, new people, new ways of looking at the world. This welcoming door to La Treille is truly an opening to warm hospitality and Provencal friends.

Be sure to visit: Heaven in Belgium to follow this week's "Doors" challenge.