Meh: The National Gallery

Given that it poured rain for most of the weekend, it seemed like the best possible outing for Jed on Sunday wasn't to the park (aka: mudpit) but a museum. Having never given the National Gallery a proper viewing, I decided that we would give it a go. (Also, it's a single bus ride away... big advantage!)

Unlike the Met, the Chicago Art Institute, and the V&A--all first-rate museums with a massive variety in their selection--the National Gallery is just one old painting after another. Needless to say, Jed made it about a half hour before asking to retreat for the indoor picnic lunch I'd promised. Can't say as I blame him!

He really wanted me to take a picture of him laughing. This was the closest I could get.

He did tackle his PB&J with gusto. Mind you, in the UK, that "J" is for "jam" and not "jelly."

 After lunch, we tried the Impressionists. Jed was taken with Degas, and feigned interest in Van Gogh, Cezanne, Gauguin, and pointillism generally, before sitting in front of some Titian painting for 15 minutes and peppering me with questions about the women bathers: "Will they wash their hair? Why are they taking a bath outside? Are they taking their clothes off?" You get the gist.

After that, I was done and we went to play by the fountains out front for a good bit.

Jed is standing by the rear end of a giant lion statue, in case you were wondering.

Too bad that crumby camera on my phone doesn't do this justice!