Moans and Mosaics and Tiffany Treasures

I am home alone.

This used to happen a lot.  Now, not so much.

My husband Howard was, as they euphemistically say, "let go" from his job back at the end of March, along with many hundreds of people who also worked for the investment branch of one of Europe's biggest banks. 

Which I shall not name.
Because it has cooties and is no longer welcome at the cool kids' table in the cafeteria.

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  The last time Howard lost a job was 28 years ago, in a management change at KDKA Radio in Pittsburgh.

At the time, we lived in a big, beautiful apartment in this wonderful old house, below,
on what I think is the very best street on all of Pittsburgh's North Side.

That's me in my minivan, on the right, week before last -- visiting old haunts with  my girls.

The front door, below.

It doesn't look so big in this picture, but it is huge. There are 12-foot ceilings behind that door.

 Two houses down, to the left, is a house where writer Mary Roberts Rinehart (the American Agatha Christie) lived with her doctor husband.

It's the house with the yellow porch.  Rinehart was born a couple of blocks away.

And down the street in the other direction is the house where Gertrude Stein was born.

Back in the day, this was Pittsburgh's wealthiest neighborhood, with Millionaire's Row around the corner.

Back in the day, this wasn't even part of Pittsburgh; it was Allegheny City.

 But back to today, my girls took some pictures while we were there.

Now who wouldn't want to live on this street?

 I cried buckets when the moving van pulled away back in August of '82.

But at least we were heading back to New York -- familiar ground.

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From Pittsburgh, Howard went to New York's 1010 WINS ("you give us 22 minutes, we'll give you the world"), and was there for 18 years, editor and then reporter/anchor.  After that, it was Bloomberg radio in New York, hosting a financial talk show.  Then . . . dum da dum dum . . . (cue ominous music) . . . Wall Street sang its siren song.  You know those offers you can't refuse?  Sometimes it's better to refuse them.

Anyway, here we are 5 months later, and Howard is still looking for the right job.  He's doing freelance work at WINS -- which is where he is today.  And why I am home alone.  I've gotten too used to having him around; it feels empty in the house.

Dion just looked up at me as if to say, "Hey, what am I?  Chopped liver?"

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When I told Anne, who studied architectural history this past year, that the church across the street from us in Pittsburgh was world-famous for its Tiffany windows, and that the church across the alley behind us was designed by H. H. Richardson and is on the National Historic Register, visiting them went on her "things I want to do in Pittsburgh" list.

The 1886 Richardson church is a round brick design, with a steeply pitched slate roof -- austere and simple but very striking.
Locals call it the "bake oven church."

These are not our pictures.  We borrowed them from Wikipedia.  Shhh. . . .

Unfortunately, we didn't get our own pictures.  If we had, we'd have taken shots of the front of the building!

Sheesh, people, take the money shot!

The church was refurbished and restored recently; I think these pictures pre-date that sprucing up.  It sits right smack on the sidewalk; no grounds at all.  It boasts a bit of Tiffany glass at the front door . . . but the Tiffany star of the neighborhood is Calvary Methodist Church:

It's on the corner of our old block, right across from our apartment.

Built in 1877, it's a gorgeous Gothic tribute to the local wealth and faith, and its crowning glory are the Tiffany windows
-- by Louis Comfort Tiffany himself -- that also recently underwent restoration.

Alida and Anne rang the church's bell, and got inside to get a look,
while I stayed in my illegally parked car.  Just in case.

Don't forget you can click on these pictures to enlarge them.
Try clicking twice -- they can get really big!

 And that's enough for today.

No more whinging on my part, I promise.

On Wednesday I plan on taking you straight up a cliffside.  Hope you are not afraid of heights.

Thanks to Mary of Little Red House for hosting Mosaic Monday.  Mary is back from her family vacation with one sick offspring, and lots of great pictures and memories.  Go visit!
Just click on the highlighted words.

As for me, I am as always very grateful for my blogging buddies and friends, the fun I have doing this blog -- even on those days like today when it got done in bits and pieces over the course of the whole day! -- and if you stuck with me through to the end of this post -- wow.  You are a real trouper -- Cass

Pittsburgh's Golden Triangle.