
The National Portrait Gallery knew what I was looking for…
Thanks to a Washington Post story about good dining options near the National Mall (and, as it happens, the Holiday Inn Capital, where we are bunking), I ended up at the chic coffee bar in the lobby of the Hirshhorn, drinking an Americano over ice (it’s blazing hot here) and eavesdropping on a docent greeting a large group of very cute summer campers visiting the museum. Kids also were entranced by a kid-size talking robot holding an iPad that greeted them in the lobby. Kids young and teen tapped prompts on the iPad that allowed them to, among other things, take a selfie with the robot. Very interactive.
I ended up wandering a bit around the museum, which I haven’t been to in years and enjoyed the contemporary art including an installation by a Thai artist rirkrit tiravanija, that includes black and white protest murals covering the four walls of a boxy room with hot plates on a table in the middle of the room where word has it red, yellow and green curry are served on some days. Not sure what the message is but again, interactive.
On to the National Portrait Gallery to see the Obama portraits but there was so much more to see there too. I ended up on a docent-led highlights tour full of great information about the grand building’s history and the portraits of presidents and famous Americans through the years. The building is also home to the National Museum of American Art which has a broad collection of art through the ages and a spectacular atrium with a cafe. Thoroughly enjoyed my visit.
Dirck had early release from work so he joined me for lunch at the Red Apron, which specializes in cured meats. We had a good charcuterie board and excellent fries cooked in duck fat, followed a few hours later by refreshing fruit (rhubarb!) sorbet at nearby Pitango.
After lots of walking in the heat, a plunge in the hotel’s rooftop pool was great, even with the tepid water temp. Next stop Adams Morgan for middle eastern fare at Mama Ayesha’s with Noah, Rachel and Laurie and a drink at a little cafe called Tryst. We walked thru the shabby chic Line Hotel, a revived 1912 former Neoclassical church with high columns, that seems to be more bars than hotel. (“The 220 guest rooms are located in a contextual addition behind the original building,” as one report put it.)


Plunged right into the thick of things here, soon after arriving in DC, by joining a gathering next to the impenetrable-looking White House to protest the current occupant’s harsh treatment of asylum seekers and migrants at the southern border, including the separation of children from their families and their placement in detention camps. The lights for Liberty rally wasn’t the Women’s March but a decent turnout and some good signs and impassioned speeches. Will it have any impact?





The skies gradually cleared and we had a glorious drive through the Pennsylvania countryside, past PA Dutch stone houses and barns, small towns with row houses lining the street, Amish buggies pulled by trotting shiny horses, rolling fields of corn,and soybeans.
First stop was Grim’s Apple Orchard just south of Allentown in Breinigsville, PA where I just missed the Mutsu/crispin harvest (oct. 14) but got some excellent honeycrisps. On to Manheim , a small Lancaster County town where we visited my aunt’s college friend Mary, who lives in an old farm house where she grew up, now surrounded, oddly, by a used car dealership.
We drove through grey skies and drizzle north thru the Poconos to Scranton so my aunt could visit an old friend from college. The drive was pretty, weather notwithstanding, and the leaves are starting to change. (I am told they are late this year.)
I did a little exploring on my own, driving through downtown Scranton which I know little about except that it was the fictional location of the classic TV comedy, The Office. There are some great old hulking stone and brick buildings but didn’t see much reason to stop so I went to nearby Nay Aug (that’s not a typo) park, which has a waterfall and gorge. I met a nice young woman who was hiking around and she led me along the muddy trail to the falls, which were impressive, especially since there has been so much rain in the area. It wasn’t quite Ithaca quality but not bad. Ithaca was only 2 hours north (so near and yet so far….)
Easton is looking pretty good. Always a little ragged around the edges even though I love it dearly, (this is, after all, my mother’s hometown and where I spent summers with my grandma at her red brick row house), Easton seems to be remaking itself as a funky arts and culinary destination. So much so that we won’t be going to the farmers market around the circle downtown tomorrow because the annual garlic fest is on tap and draws some 20,000 people. Too many for us.
We finally found my grandparents’ gravestones, along with many great aunts and uncles (Sylvia, Nathan, Jeanette, Libby…) in a remote corner of the Easton cemetery. We could see cars whizzing by on RT. 22). We spotted the new Easton Public Market on Northampton Street, which looks pretty cool, and some vintage clothing shops and boutiques. The Caramel Corn Shop is still on the circle.
We drove along the river road, RT 611, that curves along the Delaware, past the occasional lovely stone house and barn. Also drove along an interior country road trying to find remnants of the summer camp I went to as a kids — Camptown. I love the countryside here. Very rolling, winding and green, with the leaves starting to change.

I walked along Main Street in Bethlehem, which has some interesting shops including The Steel Beam, with industrial chic artwork. The city is wisely marketing its faded industrial era, with lots of odes to Bethlehem Steel. Then there are the charming 18th. Century stone buildings, many part of Moravian College.

Amazing to be back in this corner of the world where my mom, my Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Tom grew up and where I spent many summers as a child visiting my beloved Grama Betty in Easton. Aunt Mary Ann and I haven’t been to Easton yet. We landed at ABE ((Allentown, Bethlehem Easton) airport in eastern Pennsylvania after a quick trip from Chicago (an hour 20 min.) and drove pretty winding backroads lined with tall trees and the occasional beautiful old Carmel-colored stone house to My cousin Ed’s House in Emmaus. We had a lovely dinner with his great family (wife Elizabeth, daughter Sarah, brothers Joseph and James) and then drove a very roundabout way to Bethlehem and this historic hotel Bethlehem which oozes character. I rarely stay at hotels anymore (no more business trips) so this a treat, with valet parking and bellhops and a friendly woman at the desk and chocolates on the pillow of the enormous bed, next to the waffle cotton robe. I think I am going to like it here. Can’t wait to explore Bethlehem and to visit Easton again, especially with my aunt who is full of old family stories that I am trying to jot down soon after she tells them.
We took the long, scenic road from Damariscotta, which went along the coast although you’d never know it. We were surrounded by trees. It was a tight squeeze climbing up the few steps inside the lighthouse with my broken arm but worth it for the view. We could see all the say to Monhegan Island, ten miles away, which we were told is unusual.
We arrived in Portland in time to take the 2:45 Casco Bay Mail Ferry which goes to several islands and offers a great view back at the city of Portland. It was bit overcast and drizzled a little but a good ride, although we’re a bit spoiled after our Norway fjord ferry rides. 
On the way to stay with our friend Lisa from Wichita, we stopped near the ferry terminal at Standard Bakery to pick up some goodies for dinner. Lisa lives in Cousin’s Island, technically in Yarmouth, and we had a lovely reunion (after 30 plus years). She walked us over to her beach at sunset and then cooked us lobsters (plopped wriggling into hot water) with corn on the cob.