Desk Debris

The other day, an old friend mentioned a paperweight she has on her desk, one that she acquired when we worked together in Nashville in the mid-80s. I didn’t remember the item, but it did inspire me to take a look at some of the debris on my desk even now.

Desk Debris

The largest item is a plastic durian. A contributing editor at a magazine I once worked for, a woman who lived in Singapore for a while, gave it to me. I think because it came up in conversation that I knew what a durian was. The dog chewed on the stem not long ago, but I got it away from her.

The medallion is a Vanderbilt souvenir. Not sure when I got it, but it wasn’t when I attended school there. It’s a sturdy bronze object, weighing 9 oz., with Cornelius Vanderbilt on the obverse. Made by Medallic Art Co. of New York, according to the rim of the medallion. Maybe the company was once HQ’d in New York, but according to the web site, it’s now a division of Northwest Territorial Mint, which is headquartered in Federal Way, Washington, and has no facilities in New York.

I got the Maple Leaf bouncy ball at a store in Canmore, Alberta, in 2006. It was just after Canada Day, and Canada-themed items were at a discount.

The green item is a glass egg I bought at the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum in Neenah, Wisconsin, last year. A pretty piece of glass, but also inexpensive and hard to break.

On the Borders

In July 2006 we found ourselves – because of much sustained effort, mostly in the form of driving long distances – at a triple border. I can’t think of anywhere else I’ve been quite like it. The spot is at the meeting of British Columbia and Alberta; of Banff National Park and Kootenay National Park; and on the Continental Divide. On one side of the road are three flagpoles, with the Maple Leaf flying between the provincial flags of British Columbia and Alberta.

On the other side of the road is a large wooden sign offering some geographic information (it says 5,382 ft). I wore my Route of Seeing cap, and a shirt acquired on a previous visit to Canada, for a snap with the three-year-old Ann. (Be sure to read about Ed and Haleakala and that thing called Death.)

Not too far away, or at least northward on the British Columbia-Alberta border, is a triple continental divide, the Snow Dome of the Columbia Icefield. Our guide on the Icefield pointed it out to us, but that’s as close as we got. At that point water drains either to the Atlantic, Pacific or Arctic oceans.

Biosphere, Montreal

May 28, 2002. In the morning, we went back to the quays adjoining Old Montreal, this time for a boat tour of the St. Lawrence. Some nice views, especially of the unexpectedly long Port of Montreal, but the heat wore us out early. So we rested until late afternoon, at which time we took the Metro to Île Sainte-Hélène, one of the islands built (or partly built) for Expo 67.

Besides walking paths and gardens, the main thing to catch the eye there is a large geodesic dome designed by a Buckminster Fuller, probably the best-known relic of that world’s fair. Once the U.S. Pavilion, now it’s called the Biosphere, and houses a museum “dedicated to water,” which was closed when we got there.

No matter. Yuriko wandered off to see the gardens, and I reveled in lying on the grass in the shadow of a five-story ball of triangles, cooled by the wind. Lilly indulged in what I believe was her favorite part of the trip: throwing rock after rock into the reflecting pond near the entrance of the Biosphere.