i grew up in d.c., and i like to go back whenever i can. i would move there is 3 seconds flat. the mister does not feel the same way, but oh well. one of the nice things about moving from san francisco to vermont is the density of the east coast. we can get to montréal, boston, nyc or dc mostly in a few short hours. and i LOVE taking the train {conversely, i hate flying} where ever i can. montréal is oddly enough a 2.5 hour drive, or a 9 hour train{????????}, and there is no direct train from burlington to boston, you have to go all the way down to nyc and then back up to boston. neither of these are practical. but, but, the train to nyc is 5 hours, and then another 3 on to d.c., so we rock those with fair regularity.
my last trip to d.c. was for iranian new years, nowruz, which is on the spring equinox. zorastrian style. i’ve only ever spent 3 nowruzes away from the fam, and they were sad. this year, the new year coincided with the freaky warm front that swept the east coast, so man oh man did i spend some time outside.
many iranian’s in “downtown” reston va. it was the first big festival in northern virginia. most years the smithsonian has some exhibits and events around nowruz, but this was pretty cool too.
traditional qashqai hats
and rugs
and dyed fabric
my mom has some beautiful photos she took of a qashqai wedding in the 70’s. maybe i can convince her to let me share them.
qashqai singers
the enormous haftseen they set up in the square. it was about 10′ across.
haftseen eggs at the “iranian’s for obama” table.
haftseen style obama sign. very stylin’.
no explanation needed for these beauties.
the day’s star.
her father, a.k.a., my cousin.
a couple of days later was the party at my aunt’s house. she invited me to the party that morning, which was a relief since i was staying with her. might have awkward if i had to hide in my room.
her wonderful flowers. the mister won’t let me bring hyacinth into the house because the smell is so over powering. luckily, my aunt’s house is big enough to absorb the scent where as our wee sf apartment wasn’t up to the task the year i made our haftseen.
her garlic for the haftseen. i must admit, i’m a little scared of it.
all the food alia & samira, my aunts housekeeper & cousin made. deeeelicious.
one of my foxy aunt’s dancing. she’s good.
my dad on the left and his two brothers.
a highly intelligent cousin of mine.
not even the lack of a drum could keep my dad from joining the music making. wine may or may not have been a factor in the merriment.
one my favorite days was a walk that my dad i took down on the mall. we went from the smithsonian castle, walked along the tidal basin to the martin luther king junior memorial, back around to the fish market, and then ended at the castle once again. it was long and hot, i eventually stripped down to my tank top, but it was fun.
see something say something? perhaps we should have, but i’m hoping it was just an art piece. on grass. outside a federal building. in d.c. nothing could go wrong could it?
the two tones of the washington monument. they had to stop construction when the civil war broke out. when they were able to resume building, the original quarry they used had been depleted for the war efforts, and the new stones were a different color!
oh that wily dad of mine
one of the 4 original cherry blossom trees planted by elenor roosevelt and the empress of japan in 1912. not sure how i never saw them before this year, but they are beautiful. apparently as cherry blossom trees age, they thicken, and shorten. like humans i suppose.
the mlk memorial through the cherry blossoms. they made him white.
and he doesn’t seem happy about it. the memorial was packed though. it was wonderful to see all the school field trips and tours of the memorial despite the controversy over the color of the granite, the nationality of the artist and the quotes chosen.
when i was little, i lived in dread of one the crab jumping onto the dock and pinching me. 
it was great to see the fish market thriving once again. we can here weekly when i was a child. it was in this parking lot that my brother and his first wife waved her newly minted green card for us to see. it was in this market that i first tasted old bay seasoning.
the dregs of my hot chocolate in all it’s glory.
he sure does look smart…
i like to call him “maurice”
