Day One: The Gardner

 My first day in Boston, Wednesday, was also Margo's day to work at the Gardner Museum.  Rather than calling in, she opted to do her shift (only 3 hours) so that I could spend some time there.  The Gardner is gorgeous beyond words, both in the collection of art, furniture and artifacts, and the architecture itself.  Just to look into the courtyard is to feel your blood pressure gently drop.

But the highlight for me, beyond the museum, was the fact that Diane (hey sis!) came to join us.  We've been friends for over 40 years (how is that even possible?).  Michael wandered off by himself so that she and I could catch up.  When Margo got off we had lunch.  There's just something so wonderfully comfortable being with people that you've known for decades.  That feeling of belonging.

After we got home Michael brought out his little treasures to show me.  For many years now he's been fascinated by the singing bird boxes, tiny automata popular in the 17th and 18th centuries.  And bit by bit he's been teaching himself the skill set to someday build one.  So by "little" treasures, I meant miniature.  There are tiny slivers of ivory that will be an articulated beak.  Tiny metal frameworks for the bird body and head.  He's learning how to feather a bird by cutting tiny bits off real feathers and layering it on.  Tiny hinges less than a quarter inch apart.  The part that really boggled my mind was part of a mechanism to move the bird.  It was about an inch long - a stiff hair thin wire that was somehow going through a barely thicker wire.  He had actually drilled a hole in the second wire.  At the juncture was something that looked like a little blob, about 1/16th of an inch across.  He put it under his microscope to show me - it was a tiny gear.  His challenge for that had been to make the piece of equipment to cut a gear that tiny.  I really can't comprehend being able work on that scale.

After dinner I introduced them to "What We Do In The Shadows" and then we wandered to bed.  Unfortunately, that's where things went a little downhill for me.  Alone, away from the day's distractions, the homesickness came pretty hard.  I would wake up every hour or two, look at the clock, calculate how many hours before we would be getting up, and also how long until I could go home.  That would end up being the pattern for the rest of the trip.

But it was a good day - with hugs, laughter, good talk.  Things that I haven't had for awhile.