Bitter Cold and Crazy Hot St Louis: Tuesday

In the garden, I first stoped in the Climatron, a geodesic greenhouse holding tropical plants, with something for all kinds of scientists.

One display in the Climatron even got into dental health.

Tuesday morning, I slept in. When I woke up, it was sunny and warm out. Not just warm, I told myself, It's CRAZY HOT. It was just warm, but the phrase was stuck in my head. The day before, I'd spent most of my time seeking shelter from the cold. Today, I was determined to stay outside. Crazy! I did some planning.

Before I really went outside, Bryan and I went out for breakfast at the Majestic Cafe. Bryan had never been there, and wanted to try it out. I knew I'd been there and knew I didn't want to go back. But I'd forgotten why. Bryan had to go to class soon, so we ended up going there. No-one freaked out this time. I didn't notice if there were any non-white people eating there; I just talked with Bryan. Another data point lost.

As I ate pancakes, Bryan warned me that the walk to the Missouri Botanical Garden wasn't very interesting. But I decided to walk it anyhow. Bryan went to school, I went for the walk.

It wasn't very interesting, but at least it was warm. Not just warm, Crazy Hot.

The Missouri Botanical Garden itself satisfied.

Attached to the Climatron was another greenhouse, this one a "temperate" garden. With a classical arch and lots of structure and glass, it had something for all kinds of architects.

You can get all of the Chinese Garden in two photos: this one and one of the moon gate. Or you can just use this photo and say, "...and there's a moon gate."

The Japanese garden was large, larger than many Japanese gardens in Japan. They claim it's the largest Japanese garden in North America. Unlike any Japanese garden I'd seen, it had clear sight lines. There weren't trees or artificial hills blocking the view. Maybe they were playing up the "large" aspect. Or maybe it's difficult to drive your Daihatsu on curvier paths. I dunno. According to a plaque on a rock, the Japanese garden was designed by Koichi Kawana and was dedicated in 1977. Between this garden and the Dental Health Theatre, 1977 must have been a big year in St Louis.

This was my first hedge maze since I used the Hampton Court Hedge Maze as part of a Doom WAD. While solving this maze, there was only one place where I made a decision based on topology. Mostly I just guessed. At first I was surprised at the lack of challenge. But then I heard a young couple as they entered the maze and chased each other through it, giggling. So maybe the maze itself isn't supposed to be challenging.

When I lived in Berkeley, I enjoyed visiting its rose garden in winter. I would look at all the signs with all the names of flowers next to bare stems. It appealed to my sense of irony. Much like this sign next to a bed that contained no iris flowers.

The Three Stooges Sturgeon Fountain. Didn't I already see this fountain at the Buchart Gardens?

This sundial was incorrect. It looks like someone twisted it. Maybe a vandal did it. But I notice that it's been twisted so that it lines up better with the brickwork around it. Maybe the "vandal" was some gardener with a misplaced sense of order. The sun's path is not topiary that you can shape, O mortal.

Rather than take the boring walk from the Garden back to the Central West End, I caught a bus. It wasn't wildly exciting waiting for a bus in the Garden's parking lot. But at least it was warm. Not just warm, Crazy Hot.

All Over This

I rode the bus up to the Central West End and then walked into Forest Park. I was looking for the St Louis Art Museum. Instead, I found a muddy wasteland.

Can you find the museum in this photo? (No, you're lost.)

The road I wanted was torn up under construction. Bad signage stymied my detour efforts. I probably walked more than twice as far as I should have to reach the museum. When I arrived, I was hot and sweaty and grumpy. I was Crazy Hot.

The first thing I did was look for the photography section. Tired and grumpy, I had a hard time finding it. When I found it, it was closed. At this point, my grumpiness went exponential.

I bounced around the museum for a while, but wasn't into it. Oh, Eames chairs, whatever. Oh look, delicate interplay of light and shadow, pshaw. I worried about finding my out of the park before dark. It wasn't late, but it had taken a while to find my way in. So I left.

Back at the house, I made marinara sauce. I sat and read in the kitchen, smelling the sauce simmer. The kitchen was cozy. It wasn't just cozy, it was Crazy Hot.

Over dinner, Elissa told me of a hedge maze at Williamsburg. I'd been to Williamsburg, but it had been raining, so I'd kept inside. Williamsburg, with its dirt roads, had been about as much fun in the rain as downtown St Louis had been in the bitter cold.

After dinner, we talked about boardgames. Mostly we talked about Rail Baron. I remember them talking about the discovery of the strategy "Don't buy any railroads." I don't know if that's a viable strategy if you're playing by the standard rules. They'd lost their rule set, and had made up some of the numbers. I guess this happened before the web made the Rail Baron Rules available to one and all. We talked about this until Elissa fell unconscious. Then Bryan and I talked about the hyperbolic plane (as tiled by M.C. Escher). until I lost consciousness. On the next day I woke up and flew back to San Francisco.

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