TSPGH: At home in the Heinz History Center

Dear Husband and I have had a wonderful summer, although we each lost out on a week of vacation, I because I because of forgetting to block off my clinic schedule, he because of jury summonses (yes, plural). So we took mini-staycations. One day in June, we visited a little slice of Bavaria (click for my blog post), and then we went home and vacuumed/washed DH's car. One day in August, we visited the Senator John Heinz History Center (click for their official website), named for the US Representative and Senator who died in 1991 in a plane/helicopter crash over an elementary school. I do not remember this, but it must have been a big deal at the time.

DH and I had each visited the Heinz once or twice with out-of-town guests or for specific events but never together. specifically to look at the exhibits. So I decided to take advantage of the "three for free" offer that made the History Center, the Andy Warhol Museum, and the Children's Museum free for the month of August in celebration of their being named in the top 5 for their categories in a USA Today poll. (Pittsburgh was the only city to have such a good showing.)

First up, lunch at  Eleven, the classy joint next to the Heinz where we celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary (the steel anniversary in the steel city). Just kidding--Open Table let me book a table for two at an eatery of the same name in Dublin, Ireland! The one in the Strip District isn't open for lunch. Thankfully I realized my mistake the week before from the reminder email and pivoted to Kaya, a Caribbean fusion restaurant. Delish.

Then it was on to the museum, where we joined the masses--apparently more than 60,000 people visited during the month of August this year! DH decided he wanted to see the set and props from Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, so we explored almost the whole 4th floor over the course of the afternoon.

The true museum to Mister Rogers' Neighborhood is in the Fred Rogers Institute at Saint Vincent College in nearby Latrobe, PA, where he grew up. I believe the set pieces at the Heinz used to be at WQED Studios in the Oakland neighborhood where the show was filmed before being moved to this section of the Heinz, which is like a free-for-all to showcase the variety of their collections. For instance, the fashion case is currently displaying some of Fred Rogers's clothing, like a bathroom, this one-of-a-kind stole, and of course cardigans.

There were lots and lots of other collections represented, mostly with a grouping of items and short labels but not the whole narrative explanation or fancy staging you would get in a dedicated exhibit. Below are a shot of the "healthcare" group with a scale, a nurse's uniform, and some medical paraphernalia. On the right is the "public safety" group showing a policeman's uniform and a submachine gun from the prohibition days.

The Heinz also collects the history of the region's various social and cultural groups. Above are a Czech costume, a gilded painting of St. Wenceslas, and marionettes. Below are furnishings from a now decommissioned synagogue.

There's also a large room on the 4th floor demonstrating yet more of their collections, such as how they store paintings, furniture, big objects like cars, and lots and lots of ceramics and glassware.

Of course, it wouldn't be the Heinz History Center without an exhibit about Henry J. Heinz (1844-1919) and his famous 57 varieties of pickles and other condiments. There's a historical section complete with life-sized diorama depicting how he started selling fresh vegetables as a child, a section on the company's influence in other countries, several of their advertising campaigns (such as the little green pickle pins), and a big wall with sample jars and labels from the earliest decades to the recent past that was my favorite part.

After a short break for a snack back at the car, we tackled the exhibit on glass. From some of the descriptions, I guessed this might have been put together in the 1990s. Regardless, it was well done, explaining the different ways that glass is made (did you know panes of glass used to start out as large blown tubes that were then cut open into rectangles??), the vast variety of ways glass is used for high and low technology, and of course many kinds of decorative glass art.

Cheers from the streetcar in the lobby!

My Wife: A Photo Essay

This is a guest post by Dear Husband, in honor of our 18th wedding anniversary, of some of his favorite pictures and facial expressions. 

Baaaa-by!

(Not ours, a colleague's.)

Ready to eat a dinner of leftovers from the Hayhurst family picnic

while spending the night at a tiny cabin.

Pre-s'mores grin.

(What could she be so happy about?)

Mmmm, hot tea with breakfast at the diner.

Napping in the car on the way home after church; note the partially open mouth.

Coda: DH asked to snap a picture of me enjoying dessert after our anniversary dinner, but then he didn't tell me he had taken the photo, so I held the pose until I finally opened my eyes and laughed because he was still watching me with his phone camera up.

Everything's a metaphor, notes from the Love Shack

While crashing through the underbrush that had overgrown what we finally determined wasn't actually the "nature trail" (there was too much nature), Dear Husband regaled me with a metaphorical reading of our predicament as it related to our marriage (setting out with good intentions, unexpected obstacles, etc.). Our path in life has been no better signposted, as we work together to try to figure out the best way forward. 

Later we made s'mores, and I reflected upon how making and tending a fire is a lot like a long-term relationship with its ebbs and flows--whoops, wrong metaphor. At any rate, it takes a great deal of effort and some resourcefulness early on to get damp wood to light. Eventually you notice healthy flames licking across the logs, but after awhile, the fire settles down again and has to be coaxed into flame again.

We humans sometimes do ridiculous things, like build a campfire in the sweltering August heat, or buy a big expensive white dress to wear for one day in your life. In both cases, we do them to say we've done that thing, and/or because they carry other meanings (nostalgia, tradition, comfort, conformity, ...).

DH and I rented a tiny cabin at a wooded campsite for one night to celebrate with one set of rituals the 18th anniversary of another. This one was decidedly smokier but no less satisfying for having been spent at a trailer with the tiniest possible bathroom. 

We ate leftovers from the family picnic, took that ill-fated "hike," and tended a fire for several hours.

Even when I spread out the coals at the end of the night, in preparation for dousing them before bed, it was surprising how much heat they gave off.

Okay, if not the smallest bathroom, than the worst designed. You had stand between the wall and the toilet to close the door. It should have had a sliding door, or an accordion-folding door, or a door that opened into the main room instead of into the bathroom. As you can see, we survived. But it kinda puts a cramp in your glamping style if you get wedged in the shower. I'm just saying.