Industrial Vacation

I went down South with the girls for Spring Break.  In the SC Upstate, I went with my mother to document the beautiful old mills found all over there (and an old bridge).

Pelham Mill

Old Reidville Road Bridge over the South Tyger River

Startex

Lyman, SC

Appreciating Danger or Yes, we're still moving to Mexico

"We are confronted by a first danger, the destructiveness of applied atomic energy. And then we are confronted by a second danger, that we do not enough appreciate the first danger." -- Raymond Gram Swing

We get a lot of people asking if we're worried about living in Mexico City, what with all of the violence that the news is reporting on the border.   Ariel just returned from 2 weeks in the capital, crawling all over the city, getting a good handle on his job there, and checking out living and eating arrangements. And he came home -- safe and, more importantly, excited about living in this vibrant land.

I happened upon an article in the New York Times about Mexico written by a Mexican (translated from Spanish, no less) that touches lightly upon the drug violence, the US and Mexican media's over-reporting, and the chances that the country will collapse soon (you know, when we're moving in). 

The Mexican Evolution

Rest assured, we are aware of the dangers of living in a big city and the dangers unique to this big city.  We know that our life there will be nothing like pastoral England or suburban DC, and we are preparing to take the necessary measures to safeguard our family.  But we are also thrilled to the point of giggling (all of us) at all of the fascinating and wonderful things we will experience there.  Because we know where we are vulnerable, we can shore up that vulnerability.

And if things go south, we'll get evacuated.  So quit asking if I'm nervous.  I'm not.  I'm about to burst with excitement.  We move in 3 months.

The most dangerous thing is the illusion of safety.

Happy Heart-Attack*

In late January, I called my friend Amy with the jumbled words, "I'm having a happy heart-attack.  I need help with a licensing contract."  You see, I had received an email from John Milbank, the art director of Country Walking magazine asking about using one of my shots -- in a full page spread. 

John had found the photo on my Flickr page (note to self: go back and label all of my good shots so that they are searchable), and after a week of rangling out the little details (renumeration, how the credit line should read, etc), the deal was sealed, and all I had to do was wait 6 weeks until my issue would hit newstands in the UK (where Country Walking is the best-selling outdoors magazine).   To my UK friends, please go out and buy the April issue.

I love this shot.  Ironically, it's featured in the "Only on Foot" section, and I took this picture (technically 10 pictures -- it's a photomerge) during the famous Forced March of 2007.  We had to hike in to see this, and so now I would like to thank my father-in-law for not having a heart-attack on the hike so I could have a happy heart-attack now.

* A happy heart-attack is where you are so happy that the adrenaline is flowing so freely that you feel chest pains.

Red Rock Wilderness Park

Saturday, we had some glorious weather in the 70's, so we couldn't bear to stay home.  This park near our home consists of a lovely deciduous forest bordered by the Potomac River at the bottom of a steep bluff.  Lena had the dog, I had my camera, and Livia had the point and shoot.  Livia took the first three pix here, and then I took out my camera.  Everything that I took a picture of Livia took a picture of.We took the white dog down the white trail.  The girls found this fascinating.  It was good we didn't want to take the green trail.  Where would we find a green dog?!?
And here the shoot-off began.  Can you tell who took what pictures?

Artist in Residence

I wish I could say that this is mine, but it isn't.  This is all Livia.

Valentine's and School Plays

Just a little update since I haven't posted anything of substance in a while (nothing new there).  Ariel arrived home from a trip just before Valentine's Day, having missed his birthday, so I made him a celebratory turtle cheesecake.  It was so delicious and rich, we had to share it with friends to get rid of it (good friends make sacrifices like that).  I will post the recipe over at Eaten by Snarks eventually.

Lena had her 4th grade play.  On one hand, I was unimpressed (we had phenomenal plays at Beachborough in the UK), but on the other hand it lasted all of 20 minutes.  Not too bad.  Lena played the maracas and played the role of an African drought (as indicated by the brown clothes and raffia on her wrists -- obviously -- how else would an anthropomorphised natural phenomenon dress?).

The school play gave Ariel and the girls a good excuse to be absent from the house while I hosted a cooking club and made Pappa al Pomodoro (that is posted over at the recipe blog).

We had a happy and delicious week.

Perceived Value

The concept of "perceived value" has really been on my mind of late.  A few months ago, my photographer friend Amy lent me a few of her Professional Photographer magazines to browse, and I read an article which really got me thinking.  The featured photog talked about how he started with a reasonable sitting fee of $500 (which I think is high) and was advised to raise the fee to 4 digits.  At first thought, this seemed ludicrous -- no one would hire him -- but he found that by charging $1500 (oh my goodness, I'm in the wrong business), his perceived value was raised.  Clients went into the shoot assuming he was a superstar and treated him with a greater respect than he might get for only $500.  It all struck me as a bit shifty, but then in America, we thrive on a sort of conspicuous consumption -- not just keeping up with the Joneses but bragging about how much we're spending to do so.  Expensive means good.

Ariel and I had experienced something similar about 4 years ago when we went to put our house on the rental market.  Our realtor and our listing agent came to the house and gave it a good look over (which admittedly made me a bit self-conscious since our realtor moves million dollar homes on a weekly basis (or did before the market crashed)) and when we discussed how much rent to charge, Ariel and I offered an amount on the low end of the rent spectrum, thinking that a low amount that still far exceeded our mortgage amount would guarantee renters and no months of an empty house.  The realtor suggested that instead we charge the largest amount that the housing market could handle.  And her reasoning came back to perceived value.  She said that she had found that if you charge a humble amount of rent, the home is less dear to the renters, but that by charging a high but fair amount, the renters actually take better care of the house.  They perceive that you're charging so much because your house is a treasure.  

Recently, the paradox of perceived value has now worked its way into our daily lives.  In our town, we have a little bargain grocery store called Shoppers.  On the edge of the town we have Wegmans.  Shoppers is just a basic grocery store that sometimes runs triple coupons, tends to have the cheapest groceries short of Costco, and has a huge selection of Hispanic food due to its huge immigrant customer base.  Wegmans is the most gloriously wonderful grocery store I've ever encountered with its patisserie, bakery, fish monger, butcher, cheese shop, tea aisle (yes, aisle -- not just a section on the coffee aisle), etc.  But it's high.  It's the place you go for the specialty item on your list, but not for the whole list.  Or so I thought.  Since we've returned to the States, we've dutifully gone to Shoppers for most of our grocery needs.  And every week we've whined about how we can't get out of the store for less than $150.  The meat is processed elsewhere and shipped in, the selection is limited, the produce is sometimes questionable.  But still, even when we're actively limiting our impulse buys and luxury items, we still come away spending too much money.

Last month, Shoppers announced that they were closing the store here in our area.  We fretted and fussed, "What will we do?  Where will we shop?"  Though we have a grocery store on every corner, they are all expensive.  Amy (ah, how things come full circle) said, "Actually, Wegman's has the cheapest milk in the area.  And their regular groceries are not really any more expensive."  And so we gave Wegman's a try for our weekly groceries.  Monday, I went to do my shopping, armed with not just a list, but a massive list of lots of specialty items.  I bought Polish sausage from the butcher, pancetta from the deli, ciabatta from the bakery, 21 types of fresh produce, and all of my normal needs.  When I went to check out, I quaked in fear.  And my tally came in at -- $130.  

How can Wegmans -- posh, amazing, scary-elegant Wegmans -- come in cheaper than cheap old Shoppers?  But it's back to perceived value.  I go into Shoppers thinking I can afford anything in the store, and it's all a good price (because it's Shoppers), so I pop into my cart anything I want.  I nickle-and-dime myself to death.  But then I go to Wegmans, and I'm scared to death of buying a $60 kosher sausage (a tale for another day) or worse, buying a pound of black truffles.  So I put into my cart only want I need, even if what I need is expensive.  I assume when I look at the price of things on the shelf that they are priced for someone in a higher tax-bracket, so I don't buy 7 of them -- even when it's the same price I'd pay at Shoppers -- where I would have bought 7 -- just in case there's a shortage on salad dressing, you know.

Now that I've possibly identified the illusion of Wegmans, can I keep shopping there?  Next week, I'll be going back to Wegmans, this time with just my standard list of standard groceries (no experimental menu next week).  Can I come in under $100?  To maintain my perception of Wegman's value, I'll just keep chanting, "$800 per pound.  $800 per pound."