And besides, they are DISTINCT!

An email just in from my good friend Monica about a conversation between Sophie (6) and Annabel (3) that she overheard:

Petra,

On the way home from camp today, I heard the following conversation in the backseat:

Sophie: “Now I REALLY want a pet, Mommy!” (after seeing a Jasper look-a-like poking his head out of a distant car window)
Annabel: “Me too! I want a pet baby Unicorn.”
Sophie: “There’s no such thing as a real baby Unicorn. They are a mythological creature. And besides, they are DISTINCT. They don’t exist anymore.”
Annabel: “Yes they do exist! Playmobil makes them!”
Sophie: “No, they’re distinct!”
Annabel: “Yes, I WANT A BABY UNICORN!!!!”
Sophie: “No!!!!!!”
Annabel: “Yes!!”
Sophie: “No!!”
Annabel: “Waaaahhhhh!!”

This seems to capture our life right now, from fairies and unicorns, to the tug of war and ultimate tears. At least I can laugh about it, right?

Love, M.

How we ended up in the Smith Tower lighthouse?

One beautiful Seattle day, I looked up and was hypnotized by the pointy triangle on top of the Smith Tower.  I contacted the Samis Foundation (owners) about taking a look at the upper floors of their massive inventory of downtown buildings and warehouses for a long term lease….but it was the belfry of the Smith Tower that I was clamoring after.  A year went by negotiating for the lighthouse, transforming the Smith Tower into a multi-use bldg and navigating Seattle’s occupancy regulations.  I doubt this project would have been successful, if it wasn’t for the creativity of Sally Patterson, Jim Castanes, Dale Chihuly and William Justen…. to name just a few.  Nor could it have happened without the neighborhood.  Many jumped in to help… reminded me a bit of the communal transformation behind Clingstone.

The pyramid evolved from a series of dark creepy spaces into a bright open dwelling. A water tank was removed, giant concrete lumps left on the floors were jack-hammered out, heated maple floors put in, the ladders between the floors became stairs, a make-shift kitchen and two bathrooms were added and most important of all, the gothic windows were made operable. The resulting triangle has been my residence for thirteen years and it now houses four of us, my husband David, and our daughters, Simone (6) and Naomi (3).

I had no idea when moving in just how marvelous Pioneer Square would be. It is a unique community of intelligent, fun, authentic and visionary people. Children are warmly welcomed into galleries, stores, restaurants and the rich fabric of this diverse neighborhood has turned out to be a wonderful place to raise a family.

There was a white light at the top of the pyramid when I first moved in. The lease states that the tenant is to change the lightbulbs when they burn out. Somehow, I saw that as a license to also change the color.  One day, I opted for an ultra-marine bulb. The neighborhood was up in arms and alerted the Seattle Historic Society. Then a keen young intern at the Samis Foundation, Jack Almo, who happened to be writing an essay on the fiscal history of the Smith Tower, stumbled upon a story about the buildings inauguration festivities back in 1914. Turns out that the Smith Tower first opened its doors with multi-colored lights shining from the globe. That established a history of colorful beams coming from the lighthouse to celebrate various holidays and the historic society and neighborhood group allowed my blue beacon to stay. Thank you Jack!

View west from a living room window. Originally there were one or two horizontal bars (as you see above) across the windows and when I was pregnant with Simone, both David and I decided to install bars and gates throughout the house to abate our intense nightmares. The place is now a fortress.

Our curious babies could bang on the bars as much as they wanted and be safe. This is looking West to Elliot Bay from the bedroom window.  You can see the tug boats leading three tankers out to the sound.   The little boat is the water taxi to West Seattle that leaves from Pier 55.

Glad the sink was a large one as it soon became the post dinner “wipe down” spot for Simone and Naomi.  These two girls channel …the pursuit of happiness …and often go from one body of water to the next.  There is a large tub on the lower level squeezed into a southwest facing alcove that faces Mount Rainer.  The tub is a pool (with a great view) for these two pumpkins.

Looking up at the front facade from the street.  A few pieces of terra cotta fell during the 6.8 Nisqually earthquake in 2001. Not one thing even fell off a shelf in the apartment.  In my office on the 32nd floor (the neck of the Smith Tower) big chunks of plaster toppled onto my desk.  The building as a whole did remarkably well.  The post earthquake proofing has lightened the building and made it even more flexible.  Surely there will be another one.

Seasick?  Even after 13 years, I feel dizzy looking down from the globe to the “eye lids” of the gothic windows and the busy streets below.  Below is the corner where 2nd Ave and James street meet and which is where Pioneer Square begins.

I was inspired by the bookshelves Dale Chihuly built in the lavatories off the Pendleton room at the Boathouse (his home and studio) and ended up making my own set of bookshelves with a polymer edging I found at home depot.  What I like is how this showcases the covers of the books rather than just the spines.In the Chihuly Hotshop urinal, Dale installed two buck heads with massive racks. Though taxidermy might offend some, I so want to also co-opt that idea …sans the urinal.The books here are from a box of paperback books I was reading in New York City in 1984. It is a snapshot of the early eighties.  It speaks to what was important then. Janet Malcolm, Joan Didion, Flaubert, James Baldwin, Voltaire, Graham Greene, Richard Brautigan, Peter Matthiessen, Oscar Wilde, Kant, Aldous Huxley, Henry Miller, Thomas Berger, Dashiell Hammett, Virginia Wolfe, Jean Cocteau… There are a few new additions, Cold Snap by Thom Jones, a little hard-cover red book on the right hand side, True Patriot by Eric Liu and Nick Hanauer and “Don’t Think of an Elephant” by George Lakoff. (See “Evening with Lakoff” post.)

The rug came from Jordan in 1999.  The black chairs are said to be 300 to 400 years old. They were in pieces when I found them. Some glue, cushions and a coat of paint brought them back to life.

This is from the annual “Rational Evening.”  Each guest brings a fact, statistic or novel view that has changed the way they see a particular issue. We go around the room.  Peeled over one moment and in tears the next.  En masse it becomes an adhoc symposium on the issues that are relevant to our friends today on that particular day.

Friends arrive and depart by an elevator in the Chinese Room. Pictured here is Fred, Ben, Margit, David and me. Ben and Margit Rankin are Simone and Naomi’s godparents along with William Justen.  Can’t have too many godparents!  Any other takers?

Simone cycling in the lobby on a rainy day when the Chinese room deck and the roof of the parking garage across the street are too wet. Security guards, Alex and Adam with bikes in the background are ready for their wet commutes home. Seattle bikes.

Looking South toward the stadiums at dawn.

Looking South toward the stadiums at dawn, you can see the result of the six story limit. North of the tower is the tall and skinny zoning so when you see the city from the ferry, The Smith Tower and The Space Needle appear as bookends for the downtown buildings.

The city at the end of the day is one big sculpture park.

Birthday at 3700 feet

We flew to the Hampton’s on June 19 which is Simone’s birthday. The flight attendant, Maria, had an idea. Over the intercom, she had the passengers light the candles by pressing the attendant call buttons. Then they sang Happy Birthday and then Simone made a wish and blew out the candles at which point the passengers pressed the call buttons again to snuff the candles out.



By the way, less you think we’re sliding on the parental duties, it would be good to add that perhaps the birthday largess went a bit over the top this year. Simone had already enjoyed a giant 120 guest “Big Dig” Treasure hunt at the beach (epic as always) and celebrated her birthday at school and then again with her god-parents. She didn’t mind flying on her special day and loved joining the cross-country flight team.

There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man. -Winston Churchill

My good friend Annie Reese (mother of Cora and Liam) invited us to join them for riding lessons at the Willows Edge Farm in Bothell. The riding school has friendly maneless horses called Norwegian Fjords that are perfect for young riders. Be forewarned …throughout this post are horse jokes that Naomi and Simone have been testing out on their friends.

Cora went first and took to riding immediately.

A cowboy rode into town on Thursday,
Stayed 3 days and rode out on Thursday.
How is this possible?
(Answer: His horse’s name was Thursday.)

Liam went next. He was ready to trot.

Did you hear about the sad horse?
He told a tale of whoa!
Where do you take a sick horse?
To the horspital of course.

Simone loved it.

Girl: We have a mayor. Do you?
Horse: Sure!
Girl: What do you call it?
Horse: Same as you do. Mare!

All the horses had the Willows Farm heart brand on their rumps.

One day, while I was petting a Shetland Pony at the zoo, a friend of mine asked, “How are you today?” I responded, “I’m feelin a little hoarse.”

Naomi’s spiderman boots work fine.

What does it mean if you find a horse shoe?
Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

Each lesson began with a few rounds of no hands. Naomi talked the whole time she was riding. “Sweet horsey. You have a nice coat. I like it way up here. etc..” She was a wee bit nervous and found her own way to handle it.

“But I’ve got a horse out in the country
I get to see him every second Sunday
He comes when I call him,
Yeah,he knows his name
One day I’ll saddle up And the
two of us will ride away”

-Cowboy Junkies