We're a little ways back into the year now -- and incidentally, this is the part I dislike, because no one has papers yet so there are almost no students, except for the panicked older students who are expected to use technology, but aren't being taught to use it. The other day, M and I worked with a very nice gentleman. She taught him to make capital letters on the computer. I taught him how a printer works. She taught him to use the mouse.
There is a lengthy diatribe on educational priorities in here somewhere, but I will limit myself: Did it ever occur to anyone to maybe require a computer-usage placement test? It's seemed to me since high school, when I volunteered to drive some of my friends home after they missed the bus staying late in the computer lab, that the requirement of technology usage reinforces class distinctions in educational opportunity. Clemson University requires that every student own a laptop -- and in my current still-a-bit-under-the-weather state I can't decipher whether this fixes or exacerbates the problem.
Anyway.
We've gotten started now, but before we did, M and I went to spend a couple of days in Asheville, North Carolina, where O. Henry lived for a while. We went on the first day to
Biltmore, the Vanderbilt family's estate. After looking at the website, I came away with the impression that it was where rich people go to buy expensive branded wines and jellies and be rich together, but M's grandmother was kind enough to give us tickets and it was absolutely and completely worth the trip.
I've been to California's
Hearst Castle, which is a melange of stuff imported over the Atlantic to build a fantasy Mediterranean village -- the architect called the style of that place something like "Franco-Anglo-Arabesque-Mediterranea-Japano-Rusko-screw-the-look-whatever-my-client-wants architecture." Biltmore was a useful companion, since it is also a very Victorian-American estate -- appropriated spoils of empire and of education, combining in a large, somewhat asymmetrical cathedral-inspired house on top of a hill -- but Biltmore is much better-designed, and you can see how people would have flowed through it, both the guests and the downstairs class. It's useful to see how the estate would harmoniously operate.
Also, some very inspiring wallpaper-decor combinations, including some beautiful examples of using rich jewel tones to make the very Victorian damask and tapestry feel masculine -- I'd give a photo, but they apparently never release them, contributing to my previous impression that it was a fancified wealth getaway -- and some wonderful 1890s-1900s clothing was on display, including a probably Worth-inspired gown and several pieces with delightful nostalgic touches that made my inner costumer dance.
Also, this fountain:
This view of the gardens (August is not a good time for gardens in the Carolinas, but these still looked pretty good):
And this carved marble pillar from the outside, which I'd love to "translate" into a jewelry design, somehow:
As for dining in town: The
Jerusalem Garden Cafe is out of this world. We ate there the first night and went back the second. Try their curried mango shrimp -- it's delicate and warm, not spicy, and is served over perfect couscous. It's atmospheric and lovely, especially the floor seating, and the servers are wonderfully attentive. Asheville's more famous
Tupelo Honey Cafe, however, was terrible and not worth the wait. M's meal, the shrimp and grits, was drenched in hot sauce (not listed on the menu) and too spicy to eat; when we remarked on it, the server suggested stirring it around a bit. Mine was a fried chicken something-or-other and was too salty to have more than a few bites. However, if you still want to go, the peach rosemary lemonade is delicious.
Asheville can be described like this: If you took a mellower version of the free-spiritedness and general artsy insanity of San Francisco and fused it with the prissy exclusivity of San Diego, their hipster love child would be Asheville (two silent E's. And it went to North Carolina. You've probably never heard of it). The shopping is delightful -- don't miss the
Spice and Tea Exchange, where they sell ras el hanout with black pepper and hibiscus flowers, and also onion-infused sugar and powdered extract of burgundy wine.
Malaprop's Bookstore is also a must-do -- we shopped a while and then sat drinking their amazing ginger lattes for hours. And
Woolworth Walk is not to be missed -- yes, there are all kinds of little art studios down by the river, but they were like an IRL Etsy, so you might as well visit through a screen -- and also overpriced and of questionable quality. Woolworth Walk is right in town and features some truly amazing art -- pottery, installments, and traditional. We purchased, or rather my parents purchased us through the magic of plastic and our birthdays coming up, a piece by
Brenda Marks. It's a three-dimensional giclee over wood rendition of her photo collage "
Serenity." Here's a picture of it on our wall, but visit her site because our lighting does it no justice:
Doesn't the dark luminous aqua balance the red so very eye-catchingly? Stunning.
