One of the things I appreciate most about the coolest months in D.C. is the preponderance of winter-blooming jasmine you see around the city, just waiting to make sure you know that spring is right around the corner.
As part of my birthday weekend, I took myself to Planet Word, a new museum here in D.C. devoted to language.
The museum is housed in an old school, an appropriate location if ever there was one.
They suggest you start at the top and work your way down, so I did.
On the top floor, one room focuses on global languages. The other focuses on English and where our language’s roots. The former was interesting, but the latter was highly dynamic, using a textured backdrop and animation and lights to:
There are quotes and poems all over the walls in around the doorways.
On the second floor, there is a central reading room, made even larger by mirrors.
Interspersed throughout the bookshelves are these interactive dioramas that activate if you read a particular quote from the book.
You could record yourself giving a speech or share a story about words. And throughout are touch Picture-Picture-like screens with microphones to make the experience more interactive.
There were exhibits devoted to persuasive language, hate speech, humor, and poetic language and music (including some of the techniques that make a song an earworm).
It was such a good visit, I joined the museum as a sponsor as a treat to myself for my birthday. I’ll definitely be back.
How the day began:
Potomac Phil predicted six more weeks of winter and six more months of political gridlock. Neither is surprising, since the spring solstice doesn’t show up for another six weeks and no one gets along anymore anyway.
How the day ended:
Hot chocolate bombs in front of the Christmas tree before undecorating it and putting the ornaments away. (I haven’t actually done that last step since 2019, so getting everything boxed up felt pretty good.)
Cameo
1401 Pennsylvania Ave., S.E.
Sunday, Nov. 14, afternoon
Conditions: A little breezy
Food halls are a big thing in cities these days. They’re essentially food courts, but not usually attached to anything else of interest and priced for yuppies. But I’d heard there was one over near Potomac Ave. with a coffeehouse in it (as opposed to the one six blocks from me that doesn’t have one), and I convinced Rudi we could combine leaf peeping, Christmas shopping, returning a library book, and Coffeeneuring all in one trip.
So, we took the long way to the Hill, ran our errands and then found ourselves at The Roost, the aforementioned fancy food court. They’ve got at least a handful of bike racks, so there was easy parking, and you could sit outside if the person you’re with doesn’t complain that he can no longer feel his fingers. Cameo shares its space with Shop Made in D.C., so you can browse while waiting for your order to come up. Or, wander to the pizza slice place 50 feet away and get some food.
I ordered a hot chocolate and we added chocolate croissants (baked by Pluma, a 2019 Coffeeneuring stop) to our order, too. They were both … fine. But the problem is when a place charges you $5 for cocoa, you kind of want more than fine. Or, at least, some whipped cream or marshmallows on top.
So, I don’t think I’ll be back unless specifically invited. But it was good to check it out if only so I don’t have to imagine a cozy shop where I wanted to spend hours anymore.
Total mileage: Rudi tells me it was nearly 14. I’ll update to an exact number sometime when he’s awake.
After reading last week that a new cafe had come to the old record store lounge space in Adams Morgan, I decided it needed to be a Coffeeneuring destination, and Saturday, when I had a little time between library-grocery store-garden run and video chat with friends, seemed like a good time. The cafe has a couple bike racks right outside, so it was easy to lock up right there.
The cafe’s menu skews Russian, with an emphasis on coffee-based drinks. They had matcha and some house-made herbal teas on their menu, so I asked the girl at the counter to recommend a tea.
She said that the pear-saffron was her personal favorite. I’m not usually a fan of herbal teas, but decided to give it a shot. Turns out, it was delicious. I’d absolutely get it again. I mean, look at what was left in the bottom of the cup when I was done:
I paired it with a croissant filled with bavarian cream and jam, which was also delicious.
The cafe’s interior is cute, but I’m not really down for eating inside just yet if I can avoid it. While they’re licensed to have streetery space, right now they’ve only got one table, which was taken. I took my repast down the street to the school to eat while reading a bit.
The cafe’s brunch menu looks good, so I’ll definitely be back, particularly once I’m feeling more comfortable with the idea of indoor eating.
Total miles: 3.51
Dawson’s Market
2001 20th St., N.W.
Sunday, Nov. 7, afternoon
Conditions: Clear, but rapidly cooling after sunset
I biked up to Adams Morgan to a friend’s apartment for a small gathering Saturday afternoon and, after it disbanded, I decided to continue on to a Coffeeneuring destination. But this was the first day of a return to Standard Time, and it was rapidly getting dark. While I had my lights, I wasn’t feeling especially trusting of drivers’ ability to look for me, and I decided just to stop locally, rather than pedaling over to Georgetown. Unfortunately, my first stop, Emissary had recently changed their weekend hours for the autumn, and had closed already. (Cafes have really dialed back their evening hours since the pandemic. I’m going to have to Coffeeneur earlier in the day… ) So I opted for Dawson’s Market, known familiarly as not-Glen’s, after the previous owner of the yuppie grocery/bar. They’ve got a couple bike racks curbside and are a regular favorite of cyclists.
While Glen’s served coffeehouse beverages until the pandemic shut down their bar and cafe, Dawson’s has been slow to add those amenities back in. But they’ve been advertising them recently, so I took my chances. The girl at the checkout was very kind and went and found me some black tea down in their storeroom, so I took my Earl Grey and my Bethlehem Bar (like a seven-layer bar) and sat out at the picnic table to read and knit until my tea was cold and I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore.
And then I pedaled the rest of the way home.
Total miles: 2.12 miles
We passed 700,000 dead from COVID over the weekend. And “In America: Remember,” an art installation on the Mall from Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg recorded each one with a white flag.
I visited twice: once while they were setting up and then Saturday night. You can see in the daytime shots the expanse of space that was still needed to be filled.
Each time I was struck by the sheer waste.
It didn’t have to be like this. No, we probably couldn’t have saved everyone. But just this volume. This many people.
Those who’d lost loved ones to COVID were invited to personalize a flag in their memory. Because each one of these flags represents a person who had a life — friends and family, pets, jobs … Holes in the fabric of our country.
If you haven’t been to D.C. recently, it’s hard to impress on you the sheer size of this installation. It takes up at least two square city blocks. It’s enormous.
It’s devastating.
And more than 30,000 dead in just the two weeks the exhibition was open.
