daytrippin' at cape disappointment

overlook @ Beard's HollowAnother weekend and we decided it was time for another daytrip. So Sunday, we got up earlier than usual and headed west to Cape Disappointment.

Such a misleading name! It's a gorgeous state park, covering a fairly sizeable area of the southwestern tip of Washington, which makes it a great place to spend a whole day. There are two lighthouses -- each accessible only by a half mile hike -- and trails and beach fronts and overlooks and even a Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center. Even if you didn't set foot out of your vehicle (which would be a shame), the drive alone is beautiful.

I packed us each a bento, which we got to enjoy high atop a cliff overlooking the Pacific. That is something I will never tire of, being able to eat my lunch right there, watching the ocean. The ocean, you guys! That will never stop being amazing to me.

We had to leave earlier than we would've liked to get back in time for our neighborhood potluck (so fun!), but I there might have to be a weekend in Astoria in our near future so we can spend more of the day there.

(more pictures of our trip to come when I get a chance to upload them)

Sunday's picnic, Sal -- blue bunny & moons:

• Mediterranean grilled chicken
• orzo salad (orzo, tomatoes, kalamata olives, feta, mint)
• celery and carrot sticks
• apple slices and honey peanut butter for dipping

Sunday's picnic, Brittney -- black strawberry:

• Mediterranean grilled chicken
• tabbouleh
• celery and carrot ticks
• apple slices and honey peanut butter for dipping

today's breakfast, matryoshka:

• mini blueberry pancakes
• peach slices

today's lunch, French bistro:

• Mediterranean grilled chicken
• tabbouleh
• celery and carrot sticks
• peach and apricots slices

sure of you

I have a lifelong friend. Literally, lifelong. As in, the only people who have known me longer are my family.

I first met her in kindergarten. She has only a vague recollection of knowing each other then, but I remember our first meeting very clearly, in the basement playground (where we were sent for recess when the weather was too bad to be let outside). We became the sort of best friends that can only happen in kindergarten, which is to say playing together at recess, except when we didn't.

I moved to a different school at the end of that year, the first of what would be several moves to several different schools. She moved, too, so that we were ships in the night until we finally crossed paths again in fifth grade when we both landed at the same school for the first semester. Then it was another move for me, and another move back, ensuring that in the seven years of elementary school, we never had a complete school year together.

The summer before our freshman year, the year when it really, really helps to have a familiar face amongst the scary crowds of upperclassman, she moved far, far away, all the way to the other side of the state. Somehow, we managed to maintain our friendship with only letters and the occasional visit when she was in town. Other friendships fell away and new ones started up, and we weren't always so consistent in our correspondence, but by some divine blessing, we stayed in touch.

The same summer I happened to be working as a nanny, she moved to the same town where I was working. We were the only people our age we knew there, and by then we had the benefits of drivers' licenses and actual things to do, which meant a summer of adventures and hilarity, the kind of inside jokes that become a secret language. But the summer ended, and I had to leave her behind to a new school for her senior year, and I have rarely felt so badly for leaving someone behind as I did then.

In the years that followed, we had years together and years apart. We went to the same college and she helped me get a job where she worked. I later had a chance to return the favor. We commiserated over classes and relationships and job woes and all the other travails of being in those difficult stages of adulthood when you still feel like life is just going to pass you by.

But life most definitely did not pass us by.  Marriages, houses, careers, families.... And always, the constant move, from this apartment to that one, this college town to that one, this state to that one. Moving has been a constant for us both, but throughout it all, this friendship has been the constant, the important thing that remained no matter where we were in relation to each other or anything else.

Earlier this week, her daughter started kindergarten. A difficult time for any parent, yet my friend has steered through this transition with the wise and gentle grace that makes her such an inspiration. As we talked about it recently, we both laughed and marveled at how long our friendship has lasted, despite everything. She said that despite all the bittersweetness of sending her beloved daughter off for the first day of school, one of the thoughts that consoled her was that perhaps her own daughter would be meeting her lifelong friend. She could not, she said, hope for anything more blessed than that.

A few days ago, a care package arrived on my doorstep. Inside, there were all the necessary tools of the first day of kindergarten: markers and crayons, colored pencils and watercolors, glue in my favorite color and a pretty notebook with page after page of tantalizing lined paper just begging for my most innermost thoughts to fill them up.

"Happy Friend-iversary!" the card said. Signed, my lifelong friend.

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh!" he whispered.
"Yes Piglet?"
"Nothing" said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. I just wanted to be sure of you."
                    -- A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

___________________________________________________________

lunch, Lunchbot Duo:

• sausages
• cucumbers
• green beans
• tomato
• apricot
• pluot slices
• Babybel cheese
• cashews and dried cherries

whose slender roots entwine altars that piety neglects

Oh the adventures we have had! So many to tell you!

Like Wednesday night's neighborhood game night, hosted at our house. Or Friday night catching up and watching stuff with ProcrastiGirl. And yesterday, Sal rode in the Bridge Pedal, which is a bike ride that covers 35 miles and ten of the city bridges (including the St. Johns Bridge). (Which means Sal logged almost 55 miles, since it was 9+ miles to the starting point and then the same distance home.) And afterward, we did up a big ol' batch of stir fry on the patio, because life is ridiculously good.

Saturday, while we took our time over the brunch Sal made, talking about what to do with the day, we decided we were long overdue for a driveabout. We were getting a late start, so we needed a closer destination than, say, the coast. We decided on Vernonia, since we haven't explored much of the Coast Range that lies between Hwy 26 and Hwy 30.

We often pack a picnic for a driveabout, but didn't have much in the fridge that wouldn't take some prep time, so we decided instead just to grab a few snacks and our water bottles and go. Daylight was burning, after all. (You'll note I didn't say "sunlight", as it was overcast almost all day. But still temperate and nice, so no complaints here.)

Vernonia is situated in a little valley in the forested hills of the Coast Range. (Which sort of makes it a mountain town if you consider the Coast Range mountains. We don't, but the rest of Oregon does, so.) We took the Scappoose-Vernonia Highway from Hwy 30, a two-lane highway winding through deep, dark (I mean dark) forest and up and over the hills/mountains.

the Nehalem River at Hawkins ParkIt's a nice little town, a bit bigger than I imagined, with a slightly-larger-than-a-pond lake at one end and the perennially-flooding Nehalem River running through the middle. We stopped at Hawkins Park, which sits right alongside the river. They've built an ingenious little dam there to create a nice swimming hole (in lieu of a city pool, presumably), complete with a concrete embankment so you don't have to walk in dirt to get to the water, a ladder over the side down into the deep end, a wooden lifeguard stand, and a charming bank of lockers. They even used a water diversion to one side to create a wading pool for little ones. It wasn't warm enough to draw swimmers while we there, not even brave ones, but it wasn't hard to imagine what it must be like on hot summer days.

Setting for a creepy horror flick? Do we commit the mortal sin of slasher films and go investigate the creepy abandoned building? Yes, yes we do.We headed to the lake next, where there's a nice paved walking path that skirts the perimeter. About a quarter of the way around, there's an abandoned building off the path about a hundred feet. According to the placard on the walking path, it's an old fuel house for a now vanished cedar mill. (The "lake", as it turns out, is the old mill pond.)  It stored cedar chips to stoke the mill furnaces. It now has trees growing inside it. I love the poetry of that. Of course we had to look inside. And if I had woken up that morning with the intent to have an adventure, I couldn't have planned a more perfect discovery of treasure.

inside, a marvelous surpriseThe interior was like something out of a story. All four concrete walls completely intact, seven trees growing around the interior's perimeter, with sword ferns and bracken ferns and vine maples spreading out in the corners. The walls are decorated with colorful graffiti in more imaginative style than mere tagging, collectively creating the effect of a mural. And every sound echoes so that you speak softly and sparingly. A row of concrete platforms running down the center look like old stone seats from some ancient pagan ritual site, one that's so old that no one knows for certain just who built it or what they built it for, and combined with the simple peaked roof gables and the light slanting in through the trees, it has the look of a cathedral.

We still had some time before we needed to head home, so instead of our snacks, I suggested the restaurant that had caught my eye as we drove through town. It was really the word "brewery" that caught my eye, because Sal loves few things more than trying a new beer in a new town wherever we go, and I have had long experience looking for the signs of such things.

The Blue House Cafe, Espresso Bar, & Brewery, as it turns out, was just as much of a treasure as the mill ruin had been.The interior is charmingly decorated, all yellow and cobalt blue, with delightful touches here and there (like the beaded curtain made of wine corks and the blue painted nail heads throughout) and an ingenious outdoor seating area. It's a quaint restaurant serving time-tested family recipies and run by people who obviously care very much about what they do.

Their menu is largely Mediterranean and everything sounded wonderful, although that's one of the toughest cuisines for me personally since there are usually several key ingredients I just can eat. (Feta, kalamata olives, lamb, gorgonzola, pepperoncinis...I could go on, but it's just depressing.) Which means scanning for something innocuous or that doesn't have too many ingredients to ask them to hold, all the while wishing I could eat more than my frustrating palate allows.

We settled on the zataar flatbread, one with feta (for him), one without (for me). No idea what zataar was, but it was an adventure and that means you have to try things without knowing everything that's in them. He ordered their porter, I ordered a lemonade. Sal said the beer was decent, though nothing to write home about. The lemonade looked more like iced tea when it came, but I wasn't feeling particularly picky so I took a sip anyway. It was indeed iced tea, but so good I was glad for the accidental mix-up. It was infused with fresh mint and sweetened with brown sugar, so it had a delicious, crisp summery flavor that was most refreshing.

PLEASE SAL FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAKE THIS FOR ME I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER AMENOur order arrived and with the first bite, I was in love. The flatbread was handmade and still warm, the zataar (a blend made of thyme, sumac, sea salt, and sesame seeds all ground together very finely) was mixed with olive oil and spread on the toasted flatbread, then topped with fresh tomato, cucumber, and onion. It was, in a word, heavenly. It may possibly have supplanted bruschetta as my favorite summertime treat. I'm still thinking about that meal two days later, and thinking a day trip to Vernonia may just have to be on our regular excursion list from now on.

You always take a chance on a driveabout that your search for adventure will end up being an uneventful day's drive in the car to nowhere in particular. You'll take your chances with the doubtful looking roadside cafe and it'll turn into a bust as often as naught. You'll point to a place on the map and arrive to find nothing much of interest. You'll have car trouble that is funny in retrospect, but anything but enjoyable at the time.

Still, even the least eventful driveabouts have their special moments: the hilarity that becomes a future in-joke, the music that imprints the moment just so, the odd sign or bizarre sight that makes you both go, "Did you just see...?" If they didn't, we wouldn't keep taking them. But every once in awhile, the search for a bit of adventure will turn up a little bit of mystery and a little bit of magic alongside those memories, and then you're hooked for life.

see the full set of pictures here

lunch, Paris slimline:

• stir fry (chicken, collard greens, baby bok choi, green beans, onion, garlic, broccoli, and a special sauce blend) with jasmine rice and crushed cashews for garnish
• cucumbers and carrots in rice wine vinegar
• a few bites of zucchini-sweet potato bread, courtesy of the neighbor who brought it for game night lst week
• blueberries (from our bushes!) and cherries

title taken from "Among the Ruins of a Convent in the Apennines" by William Wordsworth

celebration and mourning

Mother Nature seems to be making up for the lack of spring and summer by making every day of August so heartachingly beautiful that you feel like your heart might burst from its perfection. Every day for the last two weeks has been comfortably warm but not hot, still and fragrant and clear blue sky, and if the extended forecasts are to be believed, we're set to continue like this for the next two weeks or more.

August is also the time for two important birthdays: Sister's and the Fabulous Miss M's. They're not actually until tomorrow and Wednesday, respectively, but Saturday was the celebration for Miss M's, so that was the centerpiece of our weekend.

One of the perks of having a chef for a godfather is that you get beautiful and delicious cakes for your birthday. One of the (many, many) perks of having Sal for a godfather is that he will make your beautiful and delicious cake extra beautiful and extra delicious, even when you are turning four years old and your only requirements are that it be pink and girly.

His original plan involved fairies and flowers and lots of pink and purple, since those are Miss M's current favorite things. But reality collided with good intentions, and a fourteen hour day necessitated a quick reworking of those plans. He arrived home from work Friday night with enough layers for two round cakes (vanilla flavored "with a kiss of cocoa), a ginormous bowl of chocolate Italian buttercream, a smaller container of plain Italian butter cream, and a blob of handmade molding chocolate. The chocolate was for the roses and leaves he was determined to sculpt, but he wasn't sure what to do for the rest. I suggested tinting the plain icing pink, and doing it up in pink and chocolate brown for a more sophisticated take on girly.

It takes a surprising amount of skill to make a cake look clean and deceptively simple. It takes a significant amount of skill to do so without disguising your mistakes with a heavy slathering of icing to even things out.  I'll leave it as an exercise for the reader as to the level of Sal's skill. Except to also point out that the chocolate roses and leaves were sculpted by hand, and the wording was done with straight tempered* chocolate. Oh, and to note, yet again, that Sal normally has the handwriting of a serial killer, but put a pastry bag in his hand and suddenly he's got the penmanship of an 19th century Victorian aristocrat.

The cake was well received by the birthday girl, who asked to view the cake repeatedly while it was still in the box, well before it was actually brought out and served. The pink feather boa from Aunt Bitty was also a big hit, particularly since Miss M and her young guests spent the better part of the party playing dress up in their finest princess couture. (The biggest fashion hit of the day, however, belonged to one her friends, who put together a pink dress with a set of swim goggles, a dozen bracelets, orange flip flops, and a beaded Mardi Gras necklace that featured miniature plastic beer mugs. Wish I'd gotten a picture of that one.)

Since we'd spent our Saturday partying, it was time to be grownups yesterday and do some straightening and other such chores around the house. Sal tackled the apple tree in the backyard, which we finally conceded this spring would have to come down. We've known for a few years that it was inevitable, but this year, when the roots on the upper slope had actually come loose from the soil, we knew it was time.

Still, we hate that it has to go. It provides such a lovely green canopy over our patio, and is perfect for stringing lights through for our famous backyard parties. Not to mention the thick privacy screen from the attic window, so that when you're up there in the summer and you look out the window to see nothing but heavy green foliage and bright green apples, it feels like you're up in a tree house.

It's the also the last of the apple trees that were originally planted on our lot and the one next to it. The people who built our house, you see, had an apple orchard. Yes, that story from the Cathedral Park Chronicles is based on real history. When we moved into the house, the orchard next door was long since gone, replaced by the apartment building that's there now, but there were five apple trees in the back yard that remained from that orchard. We had to cut down four of them because they were diseased and in danger of falling on the house or the neighbor's. It killed us to do it, but we saved the healthiest one, and hoped we'd have it for years to come, even if it was too late to give it the care it needed to make the apples edible.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. And although we were fortunate enough to enjoy it for nine years, and we'll keep parts of the trunk to use in the yard the same way we did with the cherry tree that had to come down, it was hard to watch it come down bit by bit yesterday. We'll have to have an arborist to come in to finish the work, but I'll schedule it for a day when I'm not at home, so I don't have to watch.

Instead, I'll be at the nursery, looking for a new tree to plant. Not to take its place, but to honor its memory.

lunch, pink Natural Lunch:

• Parmesan breaded chicken
• rosemary roasted potatoes
• carrots
• peas
• cherries

party all the time, party all the time, party all the ti-ime

And now you'll have that song in your head all day. You're welcome.

We had an inadvertent weekend of parties, hootenannies, and shindigs. As in, we didn't really plan it that way, it just sort of happened.

Witness: Friday was my company picnic and yesterday was a house warming* followed by the monthly neighborhood Happy Hour potluck. As if we're all trying to cram a full summer into the considerably shortened season we've been stuck with this year.  It's surprisingly exhausting kicking back and having fun, but doubly so when you're making up for lost time by tripling up on the festivities.

I know, right? These are just tough problems to have....

*One of Sal's coworkers was celebrating being back in their newly-renovated home. They had had a fire in their basement that caused extensive smoke damage to the rest of the house and necessitated basically gutting it and rebuilding the inside, as well as having everything that could be salvaged cleaned and restored. It took 14(!) months, but their house looks terrific and you would never know that it had been the site of such a terrible event. Since their house had already been warmed quite enough by the fire, thankyouverymuch, the party was actually a "house chilling".

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• Tuscan roasted turkey breast, with a bit of romaine lettuce to eat it with
• carrots and cucumbers
• rosemary roasted potatoes
• cantaloupe and cherries
• garlic dill cheese curds
• cashews and dark chocolate-covered raisins

the meaning of community

I joined some neighbors last night for the bi-weekly neighborhood Game Night that started up recently. It was a great way to get to know everyone better and try out some new games.

We played Settlers of Catan, which was way, way fun. It seemed a little daunting at first, but was easy enough to pick up.  But still challenging (in a good way) to master, requiring strategy and adaptation. The best kind of game, really, because it keeps you coming back for more.

These are the kinds of things that make our neighborhood so amazing and special, and we feel tremendously fortunate that we landed where we did. I had such a great time and I'm looking forward to the next one. So much, in fact, that I volunteered to host the next one....

lunch, origami squares:

• salmon cake
• wee baked potato
• carrot sticks (more under the salmon and potato)
• cucumber slices (more under the fruit and raisins)
• cherries and blueberries
• dark chocolate covered raisins

fifteen

Fresh, homegrown raspberries, picked at midnight. This is how you know someone loves you, even after 15 years.Yesterday marked fifteen years that we've been married.

Fifteen years of anything is an accomplishment, and fifteen years of marriage is a major one, but fifteen years since Sal and Brittney became a "we" and an "us" and a "them" has felt like the blink of a second and infinity at the same time, both in the best ways possible.

In fifteen years, you can:

• Complete an earthly rotation 5,479 times.
• Watch The Lord of the Rings Special Extended Edition trilogy on DVD non-stop 11,565 times.
• Drive from Portland to the Oregon Coast and back 45,658 times.
• Brew 21,916 batches of beer.
• Spend 10,958 hours writing.
• Write seven and a half books with a 251,062 word count. Unless you're me, in which case you will write one book with a 251,062 word count and then spend the same amount of time you spent writing it trying to figure out how to reduce it by 20%.
• Vote in four presidential elections. And seriously consider Canadian citizenship after two of them.
• Pack 3,900 bento lunches for work.
• Be halfway through your 30-year mortgage.
• Log 104,101 miles commuting to and from work on your bike.
• Celebrate 30 birthdays for two exceptionally long-lived cats.
• Create 390 weekly art journal pages.
• Say "I love you" 65,748 times.

lunch, Lunchbots Duo:

• hardboiled egg
• wee red potatoes
• steamed broccoli
• carrot sticks (with more underneath the silicone cups)
• honey peanut butter for the carrots
• fresh-picked raspberries from the bushes in our garden

an azure depth, a wordless tune

the view from Cape Meares on a sunny, windless dayContinuing with recounting our vacation adventures, though it took a little longer than anticipated....

After leaving our cabin at Oceanside, we made the requisite stop at Cape Meares. It never gets old no matter how many times we go, but the weather was particularly nice and there was no wind, which is significant up on the bluff where the lighthouse is located. Sal hiked down to the lighthouse again, but I opted to stay behind on a bench overlooking the cliffs to read while I listened to the birds. I didn't end up reading much, but the meditation of sea and sky was what I was really after anyway.

We didn't have to go home right away so we decided to head north on 101 and come back on 26, since we hadn't been up that way in awhile and there was a coffee shop Sal wanted to visit in Cannon Beach. (One of his former students recommended it, and they grind their own beans, so.) It was perfect weather for the drive, clear and temperate, and since it was a weekday, traffic was light (versus the summer weekends, when it can suck mightily). Up through Rockaway Beach, Nehalem Bay, and Wheeler.  We took a lazy drive through Manzanita, happening upon a darling cottage that happens to be for sale and made my heart go pitter pat even though it doesn't have a view of the ocean. Then up Neahkahnie Mountain to one of the viewpoints to take a few pictures, the wind calm and the sky blue and clear.

Arcadia Beach, among the pics added to our vacation gallerySoon we were at Arcadia Beach, our old stomping ground. We used to make day trips to this beach pretty regularly before we started doing overnight stays at Oceanside, but haven't been back in awhile. It was like seeing an old friend, standing on the bluff overlooking the beach, and we decided we should resume those occasional day trips, because this was our ocean home, too, the place we made our own when we first got to Oregon, and a piece of us will always be there.

Then it was on to Cannon Beach. Traffic and tourists usually make Cannon Beach a place we avoid, but as I said, it was a weekday and neither the traffic nor the tourists were significant. So we had a lovely little drive through town. Unfortunately the place we were looking for was closed, but we found a wonderful bakery not far away. It was the perfect place for an afternoon treat -- pastries and coffee/hot chocolate -- before heading home.

After an evening to relax and a night in our own bed once again, we were ready for our Day of Portland. This has become our summer vacation ritual, that we dedicate a full day to just knocking around our beautiful city as if we were tourists. Except, you know, awesome. We don't have a rigid plan, just a list of sites we want to see, restaurants/food places we want to try, and shops to visit. The list is always longer than we could manage in a week, let alone a day, but it gives us lots of things to choose from as the mood strikes us.

Peninsula ParkThis year's was more of an itinerary than in previous years, thanks to a map of ideas Sal sweetly put together. First, was a stop at Chop (shows up as Tasty & Sons on the map because it's in the back) for fresh sandwiches and other necessities for a picnic. Then we headed to Peninsula Park to enjoy it all.

Peninsula Park has an extensive rose garden on one end, just there and open to the public. No gates, no fences, just a gorgeous manicured garden with a fountain at its center and benches all around for people to enjoy. How incredible is that?

It's beautiful any time (especially summer and fall), but the day could not have been more perfect, which made it wonderful for a picnic. And for a stroll afterwards, with of course lots of flowers for sniffing and taking pictures of.

Because he's incredibly thoughtful, Sal remembered that I've always wanted to stop at the Beverley Cleary Sculpture Garden, so he included a little side trip to Grant Park. We took a stroll through the park and sat for a bit at a table near the statues of Ramona, Ribsy, and Henry Huggins while kids played in the fountains that are part of the sculptures.

the Burnside Bridge with the Steel Bridge behind it, taken from the Eastbank EsplanadeThen we were on to the Eastbank Esplanade for another stroll -- there was a lot of strolling taking place on our day of Portland -- up the river a bit. It happened to be the first day of the Waterfront Blues Festival across the way at Waterfront Park, which meant lots of people, as well as boats and yachts all anchored near the shoreline to hear the music. Lots and lots of people, since summer basically exploded all at once that day after months and months of no spring and summer.

And because we really haven't had a spring or summer, I wasn't in the habit of remembering sunscreen. Which meant that I had a pretty snazzy sunburn happening by the time we finally headed home. Thankfully, we'd spent as much time in the shade at various parks as we'd spent in the sun, so it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. But I definitely got an overdose that had me a little too pink for a week or so.

For the rest of our vacation, we simply enjoyed being at home with the good weather, all the windows open and making the most of the yard (FINALLY) being fit for civilized people. We read books on the porch swing, played in the studio, brewed some beer, wrote some more chapters, took late afternoon naps, watched movies, and just generally relaxed for a few days before it was time to jump into the routine again. That's the nice thing about making your home your castle: you don't have to go anywhere to get away from it all.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• crockpot stew -- potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, kale, fava beans, roast pork
• steamed broccoli
• cherries, cashews, dried mango, and dark chocolate covered raisins

title taken from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickenson, Part Two: Nature, "LXIII"

when the salt and blue fill a circle of horizons

the sun finally appears at the end of a grey dayTonight is the last night of our Summer 2011 vacation at Oceanside. We'll be back in a few months in the fall, and we've been doing this seasonal Oceanside vacation thing for years now, but it never gets any easier to leave.

And I do mean years. As we were unloading our stuff when we arrived at the cabins, one of the proprietors was returning from a walk with a new employee. I was in the cabin putting things away as Sal was coming up the steps with the last load of stuff, and I heard her greet Sal warmly, then introduce him to the new person. "This is Salvatore," she said. "One of our regulars. You'll see him and his wife every three months. Like seasons."

sunlight on the cliffsExcept this year -- we skipped our March/April visit to save up so we could take the Olympic Peninsula trip for Sal's birthday. She noticed, too. When I went to check in a little later*, she remarked that they'd missed seeing us this spring. It's nice to be known like that. To be someone's regular.

*The front office was empty when we arrived. But we come so often that they just leave the cabin to our door unlocked knowing we'll check in at some point. Which is why we were able to start unloading the car and get settled in before they got back.

our vacation spot is so awesome it includes a tunnel to a secret beachWe had mostly gray sky for this trip, and a whole day of rain today, but it was comfortably temperate, warm enough that we could keep the windows open day and night without getting chilled. And we did get several hours on the beach despite the intermittent sun, with little wind. Enough to get a bit of sunburn, even. And today, which was rainy until late in the evening, we squeezed in a pleasant stroll on the sand. We snapped some pics and even made a short jaunt through the tunnel to the secret beach on the other side of the promontory before the tide got too high.

ending in sunburstOther highlights: continuing our tradition of starting a new show, which we watch once it gets dark and we're eating a late dinner or snack; starting a special book saved for the occasion -- The Wise Man's Fear, in my case, which I've been waiting for more than three months to begin and that's a testament to willpower, people, because goddamn, this series is brilliant; afternoon naps with the window open and the sound and smell of the ocean as we fall asleep; Sal's homemade cookies and orange chocolate chip scones; and of course our special crockpot roast stew, which no matter how many times we make it at home never tastes quite the same as it does at the coast.

But then, I guess that's true of a lot of things.

title taken from "North Atlantic" by Carl Sandburg

these good days make us wealthy beyond measuring

We are two* days into vacation and I am already brainstorming ways to become independently wealthy so that we can do this all the time. We win at recreation.

*(Three for me, since I took Friday off, as well. Sal had to work but it was an end-of-semester day, which meant he didn't have to go in until 10 and was home by 4. So half a day for him, really.)

Taking advantage of Sal actually being home on a Friday night, and the newly-arrived nice weather, we headed to the new HUB Bikebar. (Note, that's a bike bar, not a biker bar. As in, bi-, not motor-.) It's nice having a Hopworks closer to the house (especially on Williams, since that area is just awesome anyway) and this one has a more neighborhood feel than restaurant feel. We snagged a seat on the patio and talked about the last few weeks while we ate.

Sal headed to the Organic Brewers' Festival yesterday over at Overlook, while I spent the day in the studio, working on two new art journal spreads. In the evening, we went to Amnesia Brewing so we could again sit outside and enjoy a casual dinner in another one of our favorite neighborhoods. And even though they didn't offer lemonade, the bartender concocted one for me on the spot. And a damn tasty one at that.

Then we decided we wanted to finally try Salt & Straw (in yet another neighborhood we love) after talking about it forever; unfortunately, we didn't have much cash with us so we had to share a cup instead of each getting our own. Sal, ever the gentleman, allowed me to pick the flavor. I of course went with the salted caramel.

There are some new shops and restaurants since we were there last, so we wandered as we took turns eating our ice cream. And managed to withstand the temptation of Collage as we sauntered by, if only because they were closed. We did not, however, withstand the temptation of Petite Provence. We emerged laden with a sophisticated bakery box of tarts and treats.

Today was the Sunday Parkways, in which the city closes down a bunch of streets in a part of town for the whole day, and people can take over the spaces for neighborhood parties and bike riding and impromptu basketball games and whatever else they want to do without having to worry about cars. It was North Portland's turn this month, and the network of streets that were closed connected a bunch of neighborhood parks, all of which had activities going on to make the most of the day. Combined with the aforementioned newly-arrived nice weather, it meant there were A LOT of people out (ETA: it was officially the largest turnout since the Parkways began), and it was just generally all the best things about Portland on a sunny June day.

So vacation has started off with a bang, and will continue into awesomeness. Tonight we did a bit of cooking and baking in preparation for a few days at Oceanside. (NOTE TO POTENTIAL THIEVES AND/OR BURGLARS: We have a housesitter and very alert neighbors so don't even bother.) We cleaned out New Seasons of basically every good thing to eat in stock -- INCLUDING OMG AN ENTIRE FLAT OF HOODS OMG SRSLY DELAYED STRAWBERRY SEASON HAS COINCIDED NICELY WITH OUR VACATION Y/Y? -- so we will not be in danger of starving. It's a real worry, you know.

Anyway, we'll get up to our usual shenanigans at the coast and then we'll see what other trouble we can get ourselves into when we get back. And I might just come up with a way to make every day a vacation day....

let the wild rumpus begin

Success! Our yard, which now looks approximately like the wild jungles of Borneo, is about to be beaten into submission. We'll have to pay someone to do it, but we found someone who was willing to take their lives in their hands and attempt to restore it to its benign Pacific Northwest unruliness. Of course, there's the very real possibility they'll go inside and be eaten by wild things with lots of teeth, but better them than us.

And speaking of Pacific Northwest unruliness (oh, I kill me with these segues)...Saturday night was the Naked Bike Ride (link is SO not safe for work, but this one is). Ostensibly, it's a protest against fossil fuels, or a way to highlight the vulnerability of riders on the road, depending on whom you talk to, but it's mainly an excuse for people ride around the city letting it all hang out. Which is always hilarious if you happen to be out and about and suddenly a bunch of naked people on bicycles streak past (that's happened to us a few times). Guaranteed to make you smile and giggle and be glad for a bit of gentle absurdity. But this year was notable because Sal decided to join in. And had a blast, so I suspect this will be an annual activity at Hall House. Don't worry, there won't be pictures.

I can't boast anything quite so daring for my weekend. Did some writing, some art, made phone calls, avoided work stuff. I also made the mistake yesterday of not bringing lunch in with me. Well, the mistake was Sunday night when I didn't make one to bring, for no real good reason at all, and then yesterday...well, yesterday was the kind of day that makes a person glad they don't happen very often. It was merely coincidence that it also happened to be a Monday, but it certainly didn't help Monday's reputation for sucking.

Anyway. Today has to be better because I have both lunch AND breakfast, my replacement debit card finally arrived (srsly, what a PITA), and our summer vacation (mine and Sal's) commences Friday. Eleven whole entire days of not being at work. Such luxury! And with the yard finally restored to order, we don't even have to go anywhere for it to be awesome.

breakfast, cute animals sidecar:

• molded egg
• cantaloupe
• red grapes

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• taco filling -- seasoned ground beef and rice, shredded colby, and a bit of sour cream in the little condiment cup
• flour tortilla and red leaf lettuce for the taco
• carrots and red grapes
• cantaloupe
• dark chocolate covered raisins and candied almonds (courtesy of Chef Sal)

conveniently dependent

Several Michaels crafts stores in our area were recently hit with a massive PIN-stealing scheme, including the store that's just down the road from my office. In the last week, there's been a rash of people reporting fraudulent charges on their bills or being notified by the fraud department of their bank of attempts to charge, including several people in my office. I've certainly visited the same store multiple times in the period mentioned in that article, so I've been monitoring my account closely. But while I was fortunate not to be hit by any illicit charges, I discovered yesterday that my debit card had been cancelled by the card company.

It was done as a preemptive measure across all their accounts that were on the list of compromised cards (which means my card was cancelled but Sal was unaffected), but just the sheer number of accounts involved meant that notifications are taking longer than they would normally.  Which meant that I discovered it when I tried to renew an online account and called the bank.

So grateful that what could've been Very Bad has become nothing more than inconvenient, with minimal hassle on my part. But yesterday was definitely a lesson on just how dependent I am on my debit card. I never carry cash and the couple of credit cards I carry are emergency-only. I don't really purchase much except for semi-regular trips to New Seasons for groceries, but it would be no hardship to curb those until my new card arrives.

Or so I thought. On my way to an appointment yesterday, it suddenly occurred to me I'd have to use my credit card. Annoying, but whatever. But then at the parking meter, I was stymied. I did just happen to have cash (one of the rare times I do) but it was a $20, which the machine wouldn't accept and I didn't have enough in coins for the length of time. Did I really want to put that couple of dollars on my credit card? I didn't really have a choice.

Even Sal had a hard time making the adjustment. Upon my relating the unexpected challenge of being without my debit card until a new one arrives, he suggested just getting cash back the next time I was at the store. "Um...I don't have a debit card...?" I said. "...oh, right," he said.

Funny how incorporated into our lives this convenience has become, that we would be so challenged when it disappears, however briefly. And a good lesson that maybe I need to make it a habit to carry at least a little cash more often.

breakfast, bento colors mini green:

• oatmeal with maple syrup and raisins
• blackberries and half a red grape (trying to make a sort of flower), with more grapes underneath
• mandarin sections
• molded egg half, with more mandarin sections underneath

lunch, deli club:

• mini sausages (with carrots underneath)
• steamed string beans as "grass" and carrot flowers for garnish
• molded egg half, with more carrot pieces underneath
• grapes on picks
• mandarin sections

tales woven of enchanting yarns

Saturday, a friend I met through Prompt came over for dinner, which necessitated getting the house whipped into some semblance of presentability, since it would be her first visit and I think we all know how important that first, er, introduction to my home is to me. The side benefit of which is that the house looks and feels so great, which we then get to enjoy for however long we're able to keep it up. (I always have to laugh at myself, because when the house is all clean and nice and pretty, I tell myself that this time, this time, I'll be better about putting things away and staying on top of the chores like dusting and vacuuming that make such a noticeable difference in how the house feels. Even as I know that my best intentions aside, I'll inevitably peter out and then start wishing for a magical housekeeping fairy to just come keep my house clean for me.)

She arrived, beautifully arranged basket of flowers in hand (flowers that she picked from her own garden and arranged herself), gorgeous mohair pashmina thrown over her shoulder.  The weather obliged with warm air and clear skies so we could sit on the patio (for the first time this year) to enjoy cheese and Sal's handmade crackers(!) and breads while we talked.  Then dinner, which she was uniquely suited to appreciate since she once worked as a professional waitress at a famous NYC restaurant. And Sal made a great dinner, not overstated or pretentious, but just what he does best:  exceptional ingredients thoughtfully put together.  (And dessert was totally amazeballs fantastic:  mini chocolate bombes with a ganache coating and two decorative tuille cookies artfully placed on top, with fresh berries and a berry coulee arranged around it on the plate.)

My friend has two qualities (among many) that make her a delightful dinner guest: 1) a life straight out of a book, chock full of eccentric (and obscenely talented) characters and extraordinary adventures; and 2) a storyteller's gift for the well-told tale. By the end of the evening, I felt like we'd been given some secret treasure and fully expected her to fly off on a magic carpet. No magic carpet, but she must have sprinkled some kind of enchantment around while she was here because here it is Monday and the house is still in perfect order.

lunch, Paris slimline:

• Yucatan roasted turkey breast
• steamed broccoli
• corn
• blackberries
• raspberries
• Pink Lady apple
• cashews and dark chocolate covered raisins

all this time in her city, and I'm finally going to meet her

I'm headed to an SFWA event tonight which will include Ursula K. LeGuin speaking about writing, books, genre literature, and, I imagine, whatever else she darn well pleases. As the kids say today, I am excite!

I read The Earthsea Trilogy when I was, like, ten, and if I could locate the boxed set I had (stole borrowed inherited from my dad), I'd take it with me to be signed. Sadly, I suspect that it was lost in a move at some point. But I can still picture that set, and still remember discovering it on a weekend when I was looking for something new to read and browsing his bookcase. I came to a lot of books that way, now that I think about it....

breakfast, cute animals sidecar:

• oatmeal
• smidge of butter
• maple syrup
• raisins

lunch, Lunchbots Duo:

• half sandwich -- pepper roasted turkey with mustard on sourdough
• string cheese pieces as gap fillers
• lettuce for the sandwich lining the box
• Braeburn apple half
• celery sticks and carrot pieces

the sheer force of sky and the cold magnet earth

this is what the first(!) 80 degree day of an extremely cold, wet, and gray year looks likeFriday was so glorious that as soon as the workday was over (which ends early on Fridays because our company is the greatest), I jetted to a little hideaway place of mine with a book and a late afternoon lunchish/snackish bento (see below). This little spot is tucked into a niche of the Columbia River, in a place where there an island splits the river in half. I sneak out there every few weeks if the weather's nice and I've got a good book going.

taken a month and a half ago, back when the river was high at the time, but nowhere near as high as it is now; and randomly, a pirate ship that just sailed pastThe river is super high right now. Past flood stage, actually, though not currently threatening anything and no worry that it will before it finally starts to die back in a few weeks. Very thankful for that, obviously, since it seems so many others haven't been as lucky in other parts of the country. Still, it was amazing to be out there and see how noticeably different it was from the last time I was there just two or three weeks ago.

We spent Saturday with Sister, Guy, and the Fabulous Miss M at their house, us girls knocking about in the gorgeous weather while the boys brewed. Then later time spent together, just together. And food, of course, because that is what we do best. Mouthwateringly grilled steaks, with grilled asparagus and a special treat of a creamy mushroom sauce for the steak thanks to the morels that Guy picked up at the farmers' market and Sal's handy skill with cream, stock, and exquisite fungi. And later, sampling of the very special French artisan chocolates they'd bought in Montana months ago and saved just to share with us. That's love, people.

sometimes snapping a pic of Miss M is like trying to capture wind in a bottleThe weather held most of the day yesterday, but today is back to overcast and intermittent rain, but at least it's stayed a little warmer than it was. Although now that our yard has had a taste of sun and warmth, the weedy chaos is threatening to explode into overgrown catastrophe. We really need to get out there and get the place whipped into shape, but with so few nice days this spring, it's ever so much easier to go for a bike ride or ensconce onself on the porch swing with a book. Which explains why our yard is in the state it's in, and we're no closer to having it done. Sigh.

lunchish/snackish bento from Friday, Lunchbot Duo:

• parmesan breaded chicken breast pieces on my new picks
• string cheese
• carrot and celery sticks
• raspberries

sweet treat from Friday, matryoshka:

• honey roasted mixed nuts
• two chocolate chunk & sea salt cookies

lunch today, laptop lunch:

• salad greens -- red leaf lettuce, spinach, sprinkling of green onion
• salad fixins -- carrots, snap peas, radishes, celery
• a bit of naan
• chicken sauteed with a bit of salt, pepper, and fresh ginger (leftover from the gyoza adventure a few weeks ago)
• raisins and honey roasted mixed nuts for the salad
• dark chocolate covered raisins in the little condiment container
• on the side: Sal's homemade vinaigrette

title taken from "The Lightning Strike: Daybreak" by Snow Patrol

a charm from the sky seems to hallow us there

Today and yesterday are big anniversaries in our lives. Today marks 21 years since Sal and I first started dating, which...is still boggling to me every time I think about it. How is that even possible? Holy crap. We've been together for well over half our lives. Incomprehensible! It's like trying to wrap your head around the concept of super massive black holes or chaos theory or why Justin Bieber is popular.

And yesterday marked our 9 year house-iversary! Happy House-iversary, Hall House! How far you've come and how much you've changed. You were in need of more help than we initially realized, but you've been a bigger reward than we ever could've imagined. (Except for that whole water line incident. Let's not do that again, kay?) Thank you for being a castle and a sanctuary and a house of dreams.

breakfast, bento color mini green:

• mini frittatas -- mushroom, onion, spinach
• mini blueberry pancakes
• raspberries

lunch, Lunchbot Duo:

• 4-color raddiatore (tomato, carrot, spinach, regular) tossed with a bit of oil, herbs, and salt
• asparagus sauteed with mushrooms and caramelized onions
• red garnet yam patties*
• pepperoni -- the last from our visit to Dick's Brewing
• corn
• raspberries

*This is a new invention. Although someone probably thought of it long before I did.  So new to me, I guess. Anyway, I had some leftover roasted yams from last week so I mashed them up and mixed them with a little maple syrup, them put them in a lightly oiled pan (to keep them from sticking) on high heat. The result? To die for.

title taken from John Howard Payne's "Home, Sweet Home"

and day was breaking, a panoply of song

on the way home, a glimpse of the foot of Mt. Hood via Hwy 26REMEMBER THAT TIME WE WENT TO THE DECEMBERISTS CONCERT AND IT WAS PRETTY MUCH THE BESTEST EVER IN THE HISTORY OF CONCERTS AND/OR THE UNIVERSE?

Hahahaha guess what we just saw them again. Yes, it has been three months. Yes, we are becoming whatever the Decemberists version of Dead Heads are, or like those people who follow Phish all over the country (Phish Phans?). Other people aspire to elected office, or getting a Ph.D. We have achieved three Decemberists concerts in nine months. Our parents are so proud.

Rodrigo y Gabriela tearing the hell out of those guitarsIt wasn't intentional, mind. February's concert at the Schnitz was so freaking fabulous that we were satiated for a good long time. And we had already been quite content after the September concert at Pioneer Courthouse Square. But then I found out that they'd be at the Memorial Weekend concert series in Bend, AND. AND. It was really the AND that was the clincher. AND...Rodrigo y Gabriela would be opening for them.

I just. You guys. The laws of physics, you can't escape them. You just have to resign yourself to the laws of physics. That's why they're, you know, laws.

Okay, see here's the thing. Way back in prehistory, like, four or five years ago, The Decemberists were on this tour called "The Long and Short Of It" Tour. In which they would play two nights of concerts at each venue, one night of some of their long songs, and the one night of their short songs. But in one venue on that tour, they would actually play three nights, and that third night would be songs that ticketholders for that show had requested. And that special venue was, as you have probably guessed, dear reader, the Portland venue.

A'LKSJDFLDAKJ;LFJA;JLDKJA;JFAJSLJFLASJDFKLA;DJ

Well obviously, we had to go to this thing. And it was dicey, because you had to buy tickets for each show separately and those shows sold out in minutes. But because my concert ticket fu is second to none, I snagged us tickets for all. three. nights. And yea, there was much rejoicing.

the railroad bridget that goes over the 300 foot chasm at Peter Skene Ogden State ParkBut the Universe had not finished smiling good fortune upon us. A week later, I found out about a Rodrigo y Gabriela concert that would actually be about three weeks before that, and despite the fact that we had used up our entire concert budget for the year on the Decemberists' tickets, this was another concert that could not be passed up. I mean, have you seen that thing Gabriela does for percussion on guitar? Again, concert ticket fu, and I emerged victorious with tickets, and holy crap, we were mighty chuffed about these concerts to look forward to.

About a month later, the Decemberists tour was cancelled due to serious illness. And lest we try to take comfort in the other concert, the Rodrigo y Gabriela dates for Portland were cancelled due to illness. Pride goeth before the fall and all that crap.

So you see now why we had to go to this thing? Even though it meant traveling on a holiday weekend, something we try to avoid? And it would be at an outdoor venue in Bend, Oregon in late May, which would be the opposite of going south of hell in August? And that this May in particular was likely to be freaking freezing thanks to the bizarro world weather we've been having all winter/spring? DO YOU SEE HOW THE LAWS OF PHYSICS ARE IMMUTABLE AND UNFORGIVING?

sitting at the park, eating our breakfast and watching the ducks and geeseSo to Bend we did go. And it was goddamn fucking cold as hell, and they confiscated our camp chairs for being too tall so we had to sit on the cold ground without a blanket or anything, and there was a wind blowing, and NONE OF THAT MATTERED BECAUSE IT WAS GODDAMN FUCKING PERFECT OKAY. Rodrigo y Gabriela were mindblowingly amazing and they tore that place up with nothing but two acoustic guitars, and then The Decemberists came out except it wasn't Colin it was Rainn Wilson pretending to be Colin and then they busted out into "The Infanta" and they finished with "The Mariner's Revenge" in the first encore again and then did Sal's favorite "June Hymn" for the second encoure and srsly? OMG SRSLY I LOVE THEM FOREVER AND EVER THE END.

the Deschutes River @ Drake ParkWe also managed to finally hit Deschutes Brewery for lunch prior to the concert, despite a one hour wait, so we can finally say we've been there. (Good burgers, though it was all a bit overhyped, imo.) And while we waited, we stumbled on a nifty geeky used book store with a special love for geeky collectible toys and action figures and a whole comics section and a very nice selection of fantasy for being such a tiny store. And for breakfast before leaving town, we hit up a wee coffee shop hidden in an alley that roasts its own coffee, thanks to a tip from our neighbors. And we picked a lovely park in the Old Bend neighborhood to sit and eat our breakfast, right there next to the Deschutes River.

But I'll have more pictures about that tomorrow.

lunch, origami squares:

• crab
• sushi rice
• peas
• corn
• cherries
• mango

the heart of the earth is emerald dark...

...and pulses beneath liquid crystal...

This is Lake Crescent. It's located on the Olympic Peninsula, between steep sided mountains carved by glaciers. It is 624 feet deep, only five miles from the Juan de Fuca Strait as the crow flies yet contains not a drop of saltwater, and is so clear that you can see to a depth of 60 feet when the water lies still. Storm King, the mountain that forms its southeastern shore, is an ancient Native American god who was angered by fighting between warring tribes and smote them all with a cataclysmic landslide that split the lake in two.

the lodge as seen from a rowboat

(click to see the full set of pictures)

As an early birthday present, I whisked Sal off to a four day getaway to the Olympic Peninsula. First, to Lake Crescent Lodge, where we stayed in a quaint little cabin no more than 30 feet from the lake shore. We dangled our feet over the dock, rowed a boat across the lake to Pyramid Mountain and back, took the self-guided walking tour through the old growth forest that surrounds the Lodge, read books in weathered Adirondack chairs, sipped hot chocolate in the Lodge's enclosed verandah, and spent the evenings curled up in massive chairs made from logs, playing Monopoly and Tri-ominoes and nibbling on the delicious treats we crammed into a cooler for three full days of meals. Fruit and veggies, cold cuts and cheeses and crackers, Sal's homemade rolls, homemade cherry-almond scones, homemade chocolate chip cookies, my own fried chicken and pasta salad. And beer, of course. Never forget the beer.

Our trip began Friday as we made our way to Olympia, then turned westward to explore the Olympic Peninsula, a first for us both. We made a leisurely way along the eastern edge of the Hood Canal, then glimpsed the Olympic peaks as the road turned inland. Closer and closer, and finally to Sequim, and then to Port Angeles. We didn't spend time there, but we plan to go back, with a sidetrip across the Strait to Victoria.

Saturday night from our cabin's porchWe arrived at Lake Cresent early Friday evening, with the sun shining and bright blue sky. The weather held for Saturday, too, so we had plenty of time outside. But of course the rains arrived, as they inevitably do, Saturday night and it came down in a ceaseless downpour all night, and all the next day. We left Sunday a little before noon and continued westward on our planned trek to explore the peninsula.

old growth forest from the "Moment In Time" trail near the lodgeWe had reservations for another Lodge, this one on the Washington Coast, but it was less than a two hour drive from Lake Crescent and we still had hours to kill before check-in, so we decided to take a side road north and far to the west, to maybe see the westernmost point of the contiguous United States, Cape Flattery.

Perhaps it was the heavy gray sky and the constant rain, but this was not a nice drive. It's beautiful -- thick forest and most of the way, right along the northern Washington coastline, only a dozen feet above the water. But the signs of human habitation here are...depressing. As if the people here have long since given up, and no longer care about the place they call home. The few little towns are empty shops with boarded doors and broken windows, economies far past saving, junk everywhere, and hardly any sign of human activity. It started to feel as if we were at the edge of the world, and it came with a deep-seated panic and disquiet. We turned around before we reached the end.

me doing my best vampire impressionBack on 101, we continued to Forks. Yes, Forks. It's unavoidable if you're making the trip we were, and it's the last chance for a grocery store and (reasonably-priced) gas for more than 100 miles if you're headed south. The town itself is small but nice, and reminded me of a small Tillamook. The drive down their main street was lolarious, as expected, with every business either incorporating"Twilight" in its name somehow (my hand to God, "Twilight Campfire Wood") or proclaiming "get your Twilight [food/shirts/memorabilia/quilts(!)/gear/ etc.] here!" But god bless them for making the most of the tourist opportunity and hey, who can bedgrudge any fans a pilgrimage to their mecca? Whatever floats your boat, even if it's Twilight. (Although I srsly lol'd at the hotel sign on the way into town that said, "Edward Cullen didn't sleep here!" OH HOTEL MARKETING DIRECTOR I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.)

one of several of the "oldest in the country" very old trees in the Hoh RainforestWe stopped at a local pizza place for lunch -- avoiding the Porto"Bella" speciality pizza -- and then next door to Thriftway for some ice and a few items to add to our food stores. Then we were on the road again through forests even more ancient than before, the rain clouds so low we couldn't see any of the peaks to our left. Unlike the Oregon Coast, 101 is inland for most of the drive so you can't see the ocean as you drive. Still very beautiful, though.

gray and rainy at the coast, just the way we like itWe decided to make the 20 mile side trip to the Hoh Rainforest. Well worth the drive and there are several places to stop and see something beautiful and amazing, like enormous, ancient Sitka spruce and Douglas fir. At the visitor's center, there are multiple trail options, both short and long, easy and hard. Unfortunately, it was late in our afternoon and the rain was coming down hard (and it was cold) so we didn't stay as long as we might have otherwise. And honestly, that side trip up north had deflated us both a bit.

some of the great masses of logs along the bluffs of KalalochThankfully, Kalaloch Lodge, where we were staying for the night, wasn't much further down the highway once we made our back to 101. Perched right on a bluff that overlooks the ocean, we were in a genuine log cabin that faced northwest with an unobstructed view of the beach and water below. (It also had a picnic table right outside the door, which was one of the few times I wished it wasn't raining so we could sit out and eat our dinner with the ocean right there.) And although the weather made it too chilly to go down to the beach, it was perfect for curling up for a smorgasbord of goodies* while we soaked up the view just as we had the two nights before at Lake Crescent. Except this time, our cabin came complete with a wood-burning stove and split cedar logs and kindling. Thanks to Sal's superb firebending skills, the stove got so hot that we could crack the windows enough to hear the surf without getting cold. We fell asleep to the flicker of firelight and the steady roar of the ocean.

*(Both Kalaloch and Lake Crescent Lodges feature restaurants with terrific menus, which I'd love to try if we get a chance to go back.)

The weather did finally clear a bit as we were leaving Monday morning, long enough for me to snap a few more pics of the ocean, this time with blue sky and no rain-speckled camera lens. The rain stopped by the time we reached Humptulips (best. name. ever.) and we had sun for the rest of the drive home once we got to Elma. Thanks to our terrific neighbors, we arrived home to find the house still standing and the cats sleeping contentedly on their cushion by the dining room window, with only a bit of shredded paper on the floor as punishment for leaving them.

What an amazing, amazing trip. We haven't done a trip like that -- someplace completely unknown to us and somewhat isolated -- in a long time, now that I think about it, and even in just a span of three and a half days, it disconnected us completely from our daily life and routines. We've gone a little too long without a vacation together, especially without a recharging trip to the coast, and we were reminded why we try to get away every few months, even just for a weekend. How blessed we are that something so vitally important to us both is something we can do.

Happy Birthday, Sally. Every day with you is a gift.

see the full set of photos

a Google map of our route

hall house update, with a bit of astoria thrown in for good measure

I'm getting back on track with catching up some things on the site. Including, yes, the library and guest room/studio projects. The next phase from a few years ago is now posted:

Library, Part 06: Installing Hardware

Guest Room & Studio, Part 06: Installing Hardware

Also, I'm working on a backlog of pics from trips and getaways from the last several years. Recently added: our little getaway to Astoria about three and a half years ago, in which we stayed in a delightful B&B, actually climbed to the very top of the Astoria Column (yes, all 165 steps of it), checked out bakeries and pubs from Sal's "must do" list, and spent an entire afternoon at the fascinating and incredible Columbia River Maritime Museum. I'm really not kidding about that, by the way. I've been to my share of museums of all sorts, and I can honestly say it's one of the best I've ever been to. The exhibits are well-done, engaging, and informative, they have an amazing, amazing plethora of items, and even though the topic sounds dry and uninteresting, you will come out with a newfound love (and appreciation) for all things Columbia River Maritime-ish.

new boxes + family fun = happiness

There are many things to be excited about today, but two things that are bummers. Bummer the first: I was sick yesterday and still don't feel so great. Well, sick-ish. Not full-blown sick, but just kind of meh and I figured that was A Sign. I still feel sort of meh, but knew if I didn't get into the office today to at least simmer down some fires, it'd be a full blown conflagration in no time. My job title should really be "firefighter".

Bummer the second: New Seasons will stop doing grocery deliveries in a couple of weeks. This is totally a first-world, problem, I realize, so I hesitate to use such words as "devastated" to describe how I feel about it, and yet.... It's only because of New Seasons' delivery that we have had food in the house for like, the last seven years. The thought of having to somehow fit regular trips to the store into our crazy schedule just makes me want to curl up in a fetal position.

Onward to the good things! Firstly...new bento boxes! I updated the Bento Gear page so you can see all the specs on both of them. Because of no bento yesterday, and they're both smallish, I'm using them both today for a kind of early lunch/afternoon snack combo. Aren't they delightful?

lunch, french bistro:

• ham, Cotswold cheese, in sun dried tomato wraps
• carrots and snap peas
• my famous potato salad -- potatoes (those small creamer potatoes from the bin), dill, oil, apple cider vinegar, with some fresh chives for garnish

snack, matryoshka:

• two molded eggs (haven't seen those for awhile!) and a couple of snap peas for garnish
• tangerine
• cherry decadence trail mix
• sea salt for the eggs in the small container

The other good thing...a wonderful, fun-filled and inspirational weekend with Sister for a Girls' Arty Weekend, in which we shopped 'til we dropped and made big messes with paint and crayons and glitter, oh my! Because we are secretly twelve, she brought her allowance, I brought my birthday money, and we proceeded to fill bags and bags with art supplies.

She came up right after work on Friday and we hightailed it over to Collage to get a headstart on the shopping. Then on to Pizza Fino, where, despite 40 minutes on the waiting list, the delicious meal that followed more than made up for the wait.

Saturday, we stopped across the street from the art store for a quick bite and coffee/hot chocolate at Caffe Umbria. Then it was on for a tour of the wonderousness of Utrecht, where I proceeded to give her a tour of all the different kinds of mediums and tools. AND! She bought her very first acrylic paints! A basic color theory set, along with a starter set of brushes, palette knife, gesso, and gel medium. (And other things, too, of course.) And later that night, we did a little tutorial on the basics of acrylics and then I just set her loose and she's officially in love with acrylics now. SCORE!

Their inventory sufficiently decimated by our shopping spree, we headed over to SCRAP. For those unfamiliar: it's a non-profit that takes in donated (mostly used) items to be used for arts and crafts and sells them for cheap, cheap, cheap. They have everything -- fabric, yarn, thread, paper (omg the paper), paints, crayons, pictures, tiles, calendars, old books, old electronics, old craft kits, glass...well, you get the idea. They take a lot of stuff that isn't even art supplies, but that artists end up turning into something really cool.) I thought poor Sister's little head would go kaplooey at all the stuff to see and look at. Many things are sold by the handful (ex. crayons are 25 cents a handful) or by the inch (old photos are 10 cents an inch, meaning how high your stack is. I get a lot of ephemera there for my mixed media collages and art journal, because I can walk out with a bag full to the brim and only have spent 5 bucks. Oh SCRAP how I adore you!

thanks to birthday money from my momSo here was my haul for the day:

Collage:

• new set of acrylic alphabet stamps (most expensive item I bought there)
• 2" alphabet stencil pack
• 3 gel-ly roll pens (white, purple, black)
• 1 blue Tombo dual marker (forgot to include it in the pic)
• 1 pink Sharpie paint marker (also forgot to include it in the pic)
• 5 little wooden stamps (including one of a grasshopper for Miss M) that were on sale

Utrecht:

• a set of 4 black PITT pens with different tips, which I've wanted forever
• a set of technical/design pencils (5B to 5H) -- for sketching, especially working on faces
• a tube of dioxazine purple acrylic paint -- I have a good range of colors now and of course can mix purple, but I use so much of it that it's just easier to have this one as its own tube
• a tube of alizarin crimson acrylic paint -- same as above
• a new offset oval palette knife with a nice wooden handle -- I have my old straight palette knife but I'm doing so much work at table level rather than on an easel that having an offset knife is useful
• a wee (like 2" high) wooden easel to use for my business cards at work :)

SCRAP:

• two metal printing plates from an old greeting card maker (SO COOL OMG)
• a large acrylic stamp w/block (I don't care about the stamp, just needed the block part)
• a partially used white pigment stamp pad
• some random thermal set letters from an old print shop
• a big handful of used stamps cut from envelopes (10 cents per handful!)
• a big assortment of photos and promo cards, various sizes
• an old slide of a lakeshore
• a negative sheet of random photos
• an old sheet music booklet (sonatas and concertos, mostly)
• a vintage women's jacket and skirt set sewing pattern for collage backgrounds
• a set of 10 transparencies from an astronomy teaching book
• 4 random upholstery fabric swatches
• a small bit of really pretty rainbow yarn
• a small ball of ugly orange/yellow/brown yarn (I wanted something that I didn't care about the color, since it gets covered with paint and glue to use as texture for a collage background)
• a small stencil with two stars on it

We spent the rest of Saturday happily creating our little hearts out in the studio, then a late night viewing of Tangled, which she hadn't seen yet (WHAT), and then when we were headed to bed, got sidetracked with more fun in the studio. Hee. After pancakes the next morning (made for us by Sal), it was time to bid her adieu. Goodbyes are never fun, but I'm so, so thankful that we get to do these weekends, and that Guy and Miss M and Sal are so accomodating to make them possible. In other news: Best. Family. Ever.