Hey! Check this out! http://www.dylangold.com/
Dylan needed a new website. So, of course, Tom goes and learns the computer language so as to be able to construct it "from scratch" according to Dylan's specs (just what I would have done--if it were more like, say, a cake). They still have a bit of tweaking to do, but Dylan was "called away" to Costa Rica for 10 days, so Tom went "live" with it this week, anyway, and they'll finish it when Dylan gets back. There might be some stuff on there you haven't seen, yet, so sashay on over for a visit (make sure you don't "sachet" on over--common mistake)...
What did you do for the Memorial Day weekend? This is our list:
1. Dug a bunch of holes in the yard to try to find a short in our outdoor electrical system (powers irrigation for garden, etc.). Failed. (Electrician failed, as well, so we had to have another system installed Tuesday (grrr)
2. Washed cars--we're finally at the end of the Sticky-Yellow-Pollen-from-Live-Oaks season. Lasts about two weeks. All cars are sticky and yellowish during this period and resistance is futile. Just wait it out.
3. Garden stuff: with a flat shovel, dug out actual level place in garden area to keep compost pile. Now I can work it without roping up. Other smaller tasks in garden accomplished, as well, short of planting actual vegetables. Don't ask.
4. Tom continued working on Dylan's above-mentioned website to get it ready for launch.
5. Broke down some old furniture for dump or recycling. Start of BIG project to clean up junk outside (mostly left by previous residents) that threatens to (or has already) become part of the natural ambiance around here. Hopes that it would just melt away with the snow have failed to materialize. Twice. I'm pretty sure I took 2lb of hardware out of one piece!
6. Sunday, we checked out the annual Art Festival on Main Street in Grass Valley. Took about 1/2 hour (I think there were fewer booths, this year), but it's a nice reason to be walking around town on such a pretty day. Music (blues band) or the ubiquitous belly dancers. Still have some investigation to do to decide if it's the kind of thing (the art fair, that is!) that would work well with my stuff.
7. and 8. Yup! Went to see TWO movies. In two days! This after having see no movies in the last three months or more (Coraline in Feb, I think). First movie: Star Trek (I know, we're the last ones on the planet to see it). Great escapist fun! Loved it! Don't think too hard about time-travel stuff (ever--in any movie). Great choice of actors to play young main characters. And, of course, ya gotta love that they worked Nimoy in, though we know acting has never exactly been HIS long suit. Second movie: Aliens vs. Monsters: Right in my goofy wheelhouse, though Tom loved it, too! AND, we got to see it in COOL 3D without leaving town!! Seriously silly and hilarious!! Perfect! If you know me, you know that I can't ever get quite enough animation. Waiting for "UP".
So, there you have it. We've passed through the Gateway to Summer.
Hang on to something! Here's that review of Election Day, May 19, 2009, from the CO02 precinct in Nevada County, CA you've been waiting for.
I left the house, nearly conscious, at 5:50am, toting my Election Manuals, light reading, knitting basket, a little cooler full of food for the day and a definite sense (gained from the 4+ hours of instruction the week before) that Procedure is King in Election World. I knew there was a lot of it, and most of it for some good reason I was pretty sure, but couldn't recall a whole lot of the voluminous mountain of detail quickly transmitted to us about the process and machinery. I wasn't concerned. There would be a light turnout, most likely, and 2 other, more experienced, "judges" (my title for the day-though I was considering hanging on to it for a bit longer), not to mention a supervisor, or "inspector", the most experienced and well-trained of us all, to show me how it's done. I would watch and learn.
I arrived a little after 6:05, proud to have beaten the drop-dead "arrive-by" deadline of 6:15, and what I assumed would be my most difficult task of the day, since I'd gone to bed too late. The polling place is inside a corner of the garage of a residence in a lovely, cedar-forested neighborhood. Our space was draped off with blue tarp in front of the roll-up door and included an old sink and small, perpetually running freezer (next to MY chair, as it turned out--it turned itself off once for a few minutes and it was as if a fog had lifted--briefly). Night before, the Elections office had dropped off the cardboard voting booths, two folding tables and the enormous, Officially-Sealed clear plastic bag enveloping the E-Trinity--a scanner/ballot box the size of a small refrigerator (the "e-Scan"), the electronic voting machine (bigger and called the "e-Slate with VBO"-never mind), and the nerve center of the operation, the desktop JBC. All have many serial-numbered official "seals" over their different parts and ports and all must be recorded on special log sheets--twice--once at the beginning of the day, and once at the end.
I found "Fergie", our Inspector, busily dumping the contents of our supplies-boxes onto the tops of the tables looking a bit like one of Santa's elves (beard and all). At 70, he's a retired Forest Service firefighter, truck/heavy equipment operator and Flat-Coat Retriever breeder. Five minutes with Fergie gave me a clue that my "straight-line" day might come with a few curves. Friendly and loquacious, "procedure" was the last thing on his mind. I grabbed a few signs that needed posting, figuring he was fine on his own for a few minutes, but upon coming back in for the rest, I found he'd ripped the machines out of the bag (cutting a seal--unlogged, and tossing it "somewhere") and plugged them all in without regard to the "order" or careful numbers-documentation I'd been taught. I set to furiously pawing though the mountain of supplies looking for the Opening Procedures flip book and the Seals Entry log in order to catch up and carefully verify all the numbers and boot-up codes.
In the middle of the chaos, Pamela, the second judge, and tempermentally, far more procedures-oriented than I (not saying too much) arrived, 15 minutes late. She sees I'm trying to contain Fergie's random activity and tries to help organize things as the 7am poll-opening time loomed. We found the seals log and the orders of operations and tried to recoup the procedure, recording numbers and punching in machine codes. She hadn't taken the classes for a long time had forgotten the details, too, even though she'd worked elections, before.
About 6:45, the third judge, Bruce, having overslept, ran up, apologized, and dashed out to finish the sign-posting I'd left undone. By 7, we were, miraculously, almost ready. It wasn't pretty, but we'd found the ballots and pens and sign-in sheets. However, the e-voting machine was giving us a code we couldn't understand (much later, we found that page) and we made the call to our region's super for help. Fortunately, we didn't have any voters right out the chute. Turns out we needed some outside help (not our fault--batteries issue) to get the electronic voting machine running properly which we got by mid-morning. Just in time for voters to decline to use it most of the time.
Between voters, we mostly chatted amongst ourselves all day, munching our food and stretching our legs now and then. No reading, no knitting. Fergie had fire-fighting stories and ate nothing but bear claws morning to night so far as we could see. Pamela, my age-ish, and a chiropracter who's converted to Hinduism, talked about her brain-age-improving programs, munching gluten-free muffins (at least three). Bruce, a retired high school English teacher and mountain biker, told us all about his love of Chaucer and recited some in actual Middle English. 13 hours, 84 voters, so there was lots of time for chatting. Regardless of the complexity of the actual issues at hand, the ballot, itself, was simple. Fill in six boxes. There were special problems with a few voters, which sent us all flying to the manuals, and which we solved (we hope) correctly, at the end of the day (I'm pretty sure there are more than 500 ways ballots can go wrong,). Fergie lost the provisional voters log (his official job) twice and forgot to get a signature from one p-voter. Otherwise, it was mostly quiet until 8pm.
Our official "closing" procedures book was missing most of it's pages. We found another list in another manual and I put Pamela in charge. It was still crazy and not terribly textbook. To look at us, it was all for the first time. Many of the problems, to be fair, came by way of confusing and sometimes contradictory terminology from the Elections Office--TWO boxes labeled for voted ballots, none for unvoted ballots, for example. Come ON, people! But, at the end, our numbers balanced and we had everything shut down, counted, logged, sealed, resealed and signed multiple times in very official-looking boxes and bags and envelopes. Of course, it took us 2 1/2 hours ('til about 10:30) and they even called us to find out what was taking so long (ooh, so embarrassing for precinct CO02).
I elected (in the absence of any other volunteer) to accompany Fergie to the County Elections Office (must have 2 people at all times with the ballots) and said good-bye to Pamela and Bruce. We piled it all into his Well-Used pick-up and drove it down there. As they checked it all off for us, it was going so smoothly until--doh!--Fergie had (big sigh) misplaced that %#&@* provisional voters log--again. It was finally located as we all (including other election officials) spread EVERYTHING out on the linoleum, and examined every bag, folder and box again and again around 11-ish.
Fergie drove us back my car at the polling place and I told him I'd look for him at the Draft Horse Classic this year. Such a good guy. Good Inspector? Not so much, maybe. As I drove home I pondered the significance of the ballot and the privilege of...ha, not really! Mainly, I was just thinking about how amazing it is that it all works as well as it does.
Will I do it again? Sure, why not? But I'm bringing cookies, next time, and a way to make some tea. Plus a little experience.
This week, I attended two poll-worker classes at the Rood Center (county bldg) in Nevada City. Yes, I will be one of those folks scowling behind the folding tables on Tuesday, watching YOU like a hawk, ready to leap into action should YOU, the hapless provisional voter attempt to scan your paper ballot (NO! BAD!) or YOU, the electronic voter become confused by having to push "cast ballot" three times (I KNOW you will screw up!).
There are seals and procedures and paperwork and more seals (NEVER cut the red ones...well, except for the first red one) and more procedures. I will arrive well before 6:15am on Tuesday, and leave sometime after 9pm. You're welcome. All this, and we live in a mail-in only precinct. Our house doesn't even HAVE a polling place. So, I'll be working one somewhere else. For the sake of my learning curve (hey, there are three different machines and, and, lots of seals, and stuff), it's convenient that there will probably be a low turnout. And simple. No party affiliations. No poll-watchers. I will bring my knitting. And maybe a book. And some puzzles. But don't think I'm not checking your car bumper in case you have an election sticker parked within 100 feet. I'll have the special string to check. I mean it.
Meanwhile, as Nevada County prepares to vote, some of its citizens provide the entertainment while we wait.
"10:43 a.m.--An elderly woman from the 11000 block of Alta Vista Avenue reported someone had messed up her clocks and she wanted to know the time. She was advised of 9-1-1 usage and to call "time". [I can only hope she doesn't come to my polling place]
"8:05 p.m.--A woman from the 11000 block of Alta Vista reported she had gotten home and her refrigerator had been ransacked. It was found to have been an exploded soda in the freezer."[check the address with the one from above...ditto to my comment]
"5:56 p.m.--A man from the 14000 block of Rough and Ready Road reported receiving third-hand information that a man was being held against his will and "only being fed KFC" [Lordy! Right up there with waterboarding]
"3:46 p.m.--A woman from the 14000 block of Wheeler Acres Road reported vandalism damage to her septic tank." [umm. How, exactly? one might wonder]
"12:22 p.m.--A caller near the Pine Creek Laundromat reported that he found a suspicious item that he said belonged to the Department of Justice." [can't have enough clean briefs...sorry]
"5:58 p.m.--A caller from Uren Street and Highway 49 reported a "possible spiritual body theft". [Hm. Sounds like something else might be missing, as well...]
[from one month ago] "4:41 p.m.--A caller from West Main Street reported vehicles were backed up at the Post Office. The light was working; the congestion was due to people going to drop off their tax forms." [It's like calling to report that "I live on another planet!"]
"11:42 p.m.--A person with a pink tricycle was stopped on Zion Street and advised to walk the tricycle home." [because everybody knows the pink curfew is 10pm--sheesh]
"11:55 a.m.--A caller from Hughes Road reported a "cardboard cat" was in the middle of the road last night and the caller removed it." [You don't see that kind of bravery every day]
On second thought, I hope ALL of these folks stay home election day!
Hm. Do you ever just wake up one day and think, "What's missing from my life?" and the answer is "Well, haven't been to Reno in awhile."? Didn't think so. Me, neither. But I did see an article in the paper last week about the annual River Festival on the Truckee in the middle of town and thought it might be fun to check it out.
We've lived here (say it all together, now) over two years. When we hop in the car to get on I-80, we usually head downhill to Roseville, Sacramento or beyond. Sometimes, we go uphill, to Donner Pass or Truckee. But never down the other side, to Nevada, say. Downtown Sacto is 1:15 away. Turns out, Reno is only 1:30 the other direction, and we just hadn't ever gotten around to it (we drove through, we think, in the early seventies, maybe). "When do you ever just get around to going to Reno?", I would wonder to myself from time to time.
Turns out, the River Festival is kind a good time to go. Nice weather, for one thing. So, Sunday, we went up and over the hill (so to speak). The kids both had to be home working on Mother's Day (though they sent an amazing tulip arrangement), so it was just Tom and I.
"The Biggest Little City in the World" (whose idea was that?--at least two big over-the-street signs--That's Tom in front of one of them) is all about the humongous casinos and the outdoor sports (last weekend, kayaking), apparently. With a little shopping in between. Every really big building in town is a casino/hotel. Except one, which must be where Everything Else is. And there, on a little island surrounded by the really lovely and well-behaved Truckee River that flows through the middle of town, we found the appropriately-named River Festival.
We walked through the food booths, random band-on-a-stage, boat vendors and port-a-potties to watch the kayakers for a few minutes. Looks like big fun. But not to watch for more 10 minutes. OK. Done with the festival. Now what?
One can follow a path next to the river through town for a few blocks. Very nice. I'm sure they'll get around to making it even longer some day. We did find a Tacos Del Mar place to eat some yummy monster fish burritos. Time to shop.
There's a Sierra Trading Post outlet on the edge of town. Picked up a couple of very inexpensive articles of clothing. After that, we spotted an ice cream store. Perfect. Then, on our way out of town, there was Cabela's.x
Seriously. I had heard and read about Cabela's. Perhaps you have, too. But I wasn't prepared for actually being IN Cabela's. REI (my natural habitat) used to seem overwhelming (in a good way, of course). Cabela's is huge. Cabela's is REI on Barry Bonds-level steroids with an emphasis (read, EMPHASIS) on killing things. I didn't count them, but the store contains maybe 200 or more stuffed, formerly a-little-too-slow game animals. All posed in elaborate dioramas around the edges and in the center of the store. There are a few birds and, oh, foxes, and such. But who could be prepared for the elephant? Or the white rhino? Yikes! Not me. Moose, bear, all manner of warthog and zebra. Big-horned everything-that-moves. On one side of the store, there's the archery range. On the other, the shooting range. So, yes. They also carry firearms. It's Disneyland for hunters.
And we helped them stay in business to sell even more guns (which I hear are selling like hotcakes, some folks being afraid that the Obama administration will lower the boom). Tom bought a few shirts and some pants; a sweatshirt and t-shirt for me. All very reasonable, I must say.
So, that was Reno. We'll go back. I'm sure we missed something. We're not big into the casino thing. But it is close. And they have a nice river. And, and...
I, in truth, had been a bit nervous about visiting our former church (25 years!) on Sunday. So many wonderful friends, and so little time! First of all, I don't like to be the center of attention, ever. Second, I become the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights under such circumstances and just about forget my own name. How to talk to so many people! So many questions to ask!
Of course, everyone is so merciful and kind and welcoming and understanding (and impressed with my pony tail!). It was, yes, rather difficult for me (though Tom sails right through!), but it was glorious to see everyone. Basically, we hung out in the lobby and chatted with folks the whole time, though we sneaked in to hear the choir perform a favorite piece accompanied on the new (to them) baby grand piano, the combination of which sounded amazing! Karen did her usual outstanding solo on Like a Tree. What a treat!
Afterward, Gwen and John invited us for lunch at their house with some good friends. So comfortable and fun, so tasty! We could catch up in a little more detail with them, Tic & Terrie, Craig and Valerie. It was a time to treasure. Here's a pic. Looks like a fun group, right?
Too soon, we had to hop into the car to go what felt like a short distance to LaVerne, east of LA to visit Mom G. Once again, a lovely, home-cooked meal! Classic comfort food, even--mac 'n' cheese! At 87, she still hasn't lost her chops in the kitchen! We chatted, and watched some Masterpiece Theater (fave of all of ours).
Monday morning, over breakfast, Mom happened to mention her longing to see a house in which she'd spent some particularly happy years of her childhood. It's located in the Hollywood area, near Normandie and Beverly Blvd. I don't know. I guess after hundreds of miles and umpteen hours spent in the car over the previous several days, an extra few hours over to Hollywood and back for such a trip seemed almost negligible. So we went.
She took extra Kleenex, expecting to be overcome with wistful feelings and warm memories. As we turned the corner of Normandie on to Oakwood Avenue, what we heard was, "They painted it! How awful!" Somehow, in the 71 years since she'd lived there (ages 10 to 16), some rude and reckless occupant(s) had the poor judgement, and, let's be frank, bad manners, to paint what had been a nice brown house (the perfect color), beige without so much as a thought as to how previous residents might feel about it. Seriously. Not only that, but on whose authority did they remodel the porch, add a fence or remove the garage? Nevertheless, after she recovered from the shock, she was able to reminisce about their roller-skating routes, kick-the-can games and interesting neighbors. Nary a tear.
We also drove by Alexandria Ave. Elementary School (also inexplicably changed) and a few other neighborhood landmarks, some still visible, some not so much. As it happens, Tom's dad spent a distinquished career as a professor and researcher at LA Community College just a stone's-throw away (Melrose & Vermont), so we drove past, paying homage, on our way to Griffith Park Observatory, which was a big feature of the area in those days (and these). It'd been quite some time since Tom or I had been to visit the recently-renovated landmark, as well. Unfortunately, it was closed on Mondays, so we couldn't go inside to see the cool Foucault Pendulum we all remember as kids. But we got a nice view of LA and the Hollywood Sign.
We went home by way of Glendale, a major feature in all of our lives. On our own,Tom and I have driven past all our old houses and haunts in the area from time to time over the years. This time, we went back to the house Tom lived in from the time he was 10 until he went to college in '64. It's on Oakridge in south Glendale, near Forest Lawn Memorial Park (close enough for squirrely boys to throw dirt clods at mourners from time to time). Nice neighborhood, and the houses are in good shape. The folks who live in The House were gone, but the next-door neighbors were in the yard (lived there since '80) and chatted with Tom and his mom about the house and the neighborhood. Really nice folks! Still in quite good shape was the front concrete walkway Tom and his dad put in one weekend long ago. Afterwards, we drove by the apartment building a few blocks away where my family lived for a year (concurrently, but not knowing each other) when I was 12.
Then it was time to get back to LaVerne, where Tom's brother, Ken, was hanging out. We visited a bit, but, around 12:30, fortified with bags of cookies in case of severe sugar deprivation, we started home.
Uneventful. One nice "cherry-on-the-top" of the trip was stopping for Rubio's tacos about an hour from home. Love Rubio's. We arrived around 8:30 (all cookies long gone) in the rain that we love (still some scattered showers, 1 1/2 days later), happy to be home. We do love it here. But we're also so glad to have the chance to go out and visit some favorite folks now and then, thankful for their generous hospitality. Of course, we look forward to returning the favor.
Onward from SF:
After the Big Event and subsequent celebration Thursday night, we went with Rachel to her place, where we spent a comfy night. We left in time for her to join in the fun of a regular business conference call with Pong The Wrong as we headed over to help Dylan with a bit of furniture moving. After stashing all the furniture in his office upstairs, returning the rental truck and getting a bit of lunch (lovely pho for me), we took off towards Santa Barbara (about six hours distant) in the rain.
Diana, Tom's sister, had just officiated a wedding at the beach and still felt up to making us a wonderful dinner at her wonderful home as we were arriving. Dick was, unfortunately for us, traveling in Chicago, so it was just we three. They live in Montecito, a gorgeous community full of trees and gardens in the hills just south of SB. It's not always such a paradise, however. Last fall, they had been evacuated from their home because of the Tea Fire, which scorched about 2000 acres and burned 230 homes and part of the Westmont College campus (just yesterday, Diana reported through Facebook that there is yet another, smaller, fire burning nearby as I write this, but they seem to have it surrounded with no structures lost--so far). After dinner, their son and daughter-in-law, Eric and Rachel, plus uber-cute Grace, their daughter, came over for a wonderful visit. Cherry Garcia was also on hand to make the whole affair even more wonderful, if that were possible.
Next morning, Diana took us to breakfast at a lovely restaurant right on the beach. Oh my! There's the perfect way to begin a day! Could have hung out there, well, we might be there still, had we not made other commitments (lucky for D&D). Off to Carlsbad/San Marcos.
There was a past/present Forte party/reunion at Chris's in Carlsbad Saturday afternoon/evening. That morning, my mom had called to say that Milsie, her 90-year-old stepmother (my step-grandmother) was in the Tri-City Hospital after having suffered a massive stroke on Wednesday. Tri-City happens to be in Vista, near Dad's house. So, on the way, we stopped in to see how she was doing. Not so great, as it happens. Arthur, her sole surviving son and her caretaker/companion for the last 18 years, was there. We could tell that Milsie knew we were there, but she was in ICU, all hooked up to all sorts of machinery, and could only respond to questions with eye movements. Somehow, though, I could discern some strength and determination in those eyes. It's a bit early to know what her progonisis might be, though, but she could amaze us all.
I hope so.
We arrived at Dad & Jean's and met the new doggie, Shu-shu, a teensy (5#) yorkshire terrier that they'd adopted straight from a closed-down puppy mill, where her life had been quite a difficult one. She's about three, had had a botched C-section to deliver a litter and almost no human contact. Dad and Jean have put SO much effort and $$ to help her heal properly (nearly didn't make it) and to help her adjust to a life indoors. The house-training is ongoing, but she's making progress. SO cute!! It seems Dad's lap is her favorite retreat, but she's slowly opening up to other humans (even me!). Here's a cute pic of Jean and their sweetheart doggie, Abby, too. Two pretty kitties round out the household. Two things: puppies, good; puppy mills, BAD BAD. Don't forget.
Tom had a wonderful time at the party, seeing his good friends and present/former colleagues and families. I would have loved to go, but I have so little time to spend with Dad and Jean, that I opted for the latter. We had a great time, too! Dad, 81, still works in real estate, Jean is mainly retired, but works part time doing her magic office organizing. We laugh a lot.
We hung around a bit Sunday morning, but finally left for church in El Cajon.
The idea started out as a simple weekend trip to Carlsbad for a Forte reunion party at Chris's on Saturday with some other possible stops. It ended up a five-day whirlwind through San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Carlsbad/San Marcos, El Cajon, and LaVerne, before we landed back at home last night.
We'll start with San Francisco.
Last week I wrote about our having spent the weekend previous in SF "helping" Dylan build some furniture and a new website. The focus of the all the activity was an annual design contest at the SF branch of DWR (Design Within Reach), a very nice contemporary furniture gallery with stores across North America. So, we, of course, traveled to the event scheduled for Thursday evening, making it the first stop of our journey loop.
Dylan had been quite disappointed the night before. Let's just say the previous statement is a pale shadow of the real situation. He had completed the building of three pieces on very short notice, two of which he'd sent out to a professional finisher to be, well, finished professionally. When he went to pick them up on Wednesday (to transport them to DWR for the event), he found out that she had ruined the, uh, finish. On both. Yipes! He took them back to his shop instead of to the gallery. In the end, he was only able to buff up the Stink Tree table a bit and had to live with it the way it was (sort of splotchy). For the Cornered table, though, there was no hope. There was a months-old dusty prototype version of it, with some imperfections, that had been living at the shop for awhile, so, on Thursday morning, he and his intern, Mark, cleaned and waxed it best they could. Then, with a bit of a heavy heart, he took all three pieces over to the store.
We arrived mid-afternoon to find that he'd become calmer and more philosophical about it all and had resolved to make the most of the opportunity, anyway. It's a classy place, DWR, full of contemporary furniture, some classically so, priced somewhat ironically, out of reach for most people, I'd say. I love most of it. One of my faves, because of the humor, was the enormous desk lamp you see in the first picture with Tom. Dylan, as mentioned before, had three pieces in the contest, chosen from a couple hundred submissions unlabeled as to designer during the judging. The judges were, then, quite surprised to find that three of the final fifteen were submitted by one person. Here's an article posted before the final prizes were announced referring to Dylan's accomplishment: http://joshspear.com/item/modern-design-function-exhibition/
The other twelve pieces were wonderful, too, to my eye. Mostly tables and chairs of different sorts. A beautiful bentwood cradle; a bench that looked a bit like a spider's web. I'd estimate about 200 people showed up to see the pieces (and for the food and drinks, as well, I'm thinking--the merinque cookies were killer) including Rachel and Emi. There were quite a few of Dylan and Rachel's friends, some of whom we've known for quite awhile, some not. It was a very cool gallery event.
Toward the end, the manager of the store began the announcements phase by introducing the four judges, one of whom is associated with the Museum of Modern Art, another of whom is an editor of Dwell, a prominent home-design magazine. They introduced the designer-finalists next, all of whom received polite clapping--except for Dylan, who got the big, noisy applause, whistles and shouts as if at a sporting event of some kind.
There were three awards. The first was the "best furniture" won by a woman who'd made a lovely birchy-wood chair. The second was "most environmentally responsible" (so, I can't remember the actual name of the award, but that's the gist), which was given to another woman for a nice chair made from recycled materials and some beautifully-formed steel. The final award was "best in show", which went to---Dylan!! For Cornered!! Woo hoo!! So amazing! So fun! And so ironic!! They loved it! He had been making connections all evening with other folks in the industry (including recommendations for a new finisher), but after the announcements, he had great conversations with most of the judges and it looks like there'll be a feature about Dylan's furniture in Dwell Magazine toward the end of the year!
There's Dylan with the winning table and a mural of prominent designers, such as Eero Saarinen and Charles Eames looking over his shoulder.
He was surprised and, well, pleased, of course, though Dylan never goes exactly overboard with excitement. It was such a relief and such a confirmation! So many friends were there to help celebrate! Afterwards, we went to a fun Mexican-food establishment to celebrate more.
We know Dylan has the design chops. He's gradually pulling in all the right kind of attention for his work. A few more things need to be set in place. One of them is the new website, which is nearly ready. Dylan's been waiting for the photographer to return from out of town so as to get the most recent photos up onto the site. Should happen this week and I'll post it as soon as it's ready.
So, our little trip got started off on quite a positive step! Heading south...
