little black journal

I’m still coming down off a pretty perfect weekend in Portland – we ate, we sun-soaked, we raised our glasses to my brother for his birthday, and best of all, I reveled in some high-quality time with those super-precious nieces of mine.

We kicked off our Portland bonanza at the Saturday Farmer’s Market with Jack and La Verne, who happened to be day-tripping in the city. We laid on the lawn and stuffed ourselves with Italian sausages and the notorious fried chicken/bacon/cheese/fried egg sandwich from Pine State Biscuit (how can something so bad be sooooo good?).  Post-lunch, we stumbled down the aisles in a full-belly haze and picked up a few peaches and cartons of berries, bid farewell to the Chens, and headed over to Mitch’s place.

I prepared myself to find Morgan and Elise much-changed since the last time I saw them, but despite any growth, they turned out to be the same sweet, fun-loving little girls.  Our first stop is always the playground, and Elise was quick to hop and her bike and show Uncle Shane her skills while I watched Morgan go bonkers over the fact that she’s now big enough to climb to the top of the slide and go down it all by herself.

My parents were in town for the weekend and it was a treat to gather around the table and celebrate Mitch and Kathryn’s upcoming birthdays with mojitos, enchiladas, and juicy fruit skewers hot off the grill.  It was like Christmas in July, having the family together.

One more trip to the nearby park on Sunday morning, and then it was time for Shane to head home, all to soon.  I had decided to stay until Monday and take the train back to Seattle, so I settled in for another day of enjoying Portland’s finest (namely, Morgan and Elise).  We read books and stacked blocks and played in the water – never a dull moment…

We spent Sunday evening picnicking at Peninsula Park, enjoying grilled chicken and the free symphony concert.  The rose garden was stunning in the late-day sun, and the sound of so many kids running barefoot through the grass couldn’t have been more quintessentially summer-iffic.

Mitch and Kathryn were back at work Monday morning and my train didn’t leave until 6 pm, so my parents and I packed up the girls and headed out for a little adventure on Sauvie Island.  This little island, just 20 minutes from the city, is home to the best u-pick farm I have ever laid eyes on.  Rows upon rows of raspberries, blueberries, marion berries, peach trees, cabbage, cucumbers, the list goes on and on.  We went right to work – my mom and I grabbed our containers and started on the raspberries with Elise while my dad set out for the blueberry bushes with Morgan.   Elise was a great little helper, although I think she put five berries in her mouth for each one she put in the bin – far be it from me to deny that girl such pure summer pleasure! I checked in with my dad and Morgan and found that it was much the same situation – her belly was looking a little more round than usual with all her expert foraging.  We drove away with quite the bounty of berries and peaches.  At two dollars a pound, I’m calling this the deal of the year!

We grabbed a quick lunch and headed home for naptime.  I read Morgan her Clifford and Animal Sounds books for the fourteenth time and tucked her into her crib.  Elise and I snuggled up with her latest issue of Highlights for some quiet time and then I dozed while she sang and squirmed and did everything in her power to resist sleep (that girl did not inherit her aunt’s proclivity toward napping!).

The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging in the backyard, watching the girls play in the kiddie pool and water the plants with their squirt gun and plastic cups.  I drank a glass of wine with my mom and listened to my dad wish Grandaddy an early Happy Birthday on the phone and felt so incredibly blessed.  The past couple of days were filled with so many simple moments of the perfect joy that comes with being surrounded by people you love.  Morgan’s sweet giggle, a tender hug of encouragement from my mom, an afternoon of watching my dad play with building blocks (with and without the kids!), and my cup overfloweth.

Today is my big brother’s 35th birthday – although getting older is a little less fun once you hit your thirties, I do appreciate the way that the five-year gap between us seems to shrink in significance as the years go by.  I just got home from a couple of days in Portland and am feeling especially impressed with the man Mitch has become.  I mean, seriously, is this cool dad with the sleeve tattoos and the acoustic guitar and the bookshelf full of sophisticated literature the same guy that endured the seventh grade with coke-bottle glasses and MC Hammer piping through his Walkman?

Despite his ummm… awkward phase, I have always been the kid sister that looked up to her cool older brother.  When we were little, I longed to climb into the backyard sandbox and play GI Joe with Mitch and his friends.  When he became a teenager and discovered the grunge scene, I watched Pearl Jam videos with him on MTV and respectfully held back from my usual pestering when he got news of Kurt Cobain’s death.  When he graduated from high school and moved to Portland, I visited him in his apartment near Hawthorne and envied the urban lifestyle he lived, full of music and bus rides and tattooed friends in bands.  When he came to visit me during my year abroad and we traveled to Barcelona together, I was struck by his knowledge of Gaudi and the ease with which he ordered a plate of olives and a glass of wine at a sidewalk cafe.  When he married Kathryn in 2005, I thanked God that he’d found a beautiful woman so perfect for him and laughed as we all danced barefoot under the trees to the live bluegrass band.  When he became a dad four years ago, I nearly cried over the surprising tenderness with which he held his little girl.

And today, I wish a very happy birthday to my swell big bro – loving father, wine connoisseur, expert on boring Spanish Civil War novels.  Cheers, Mitch.  I think we’ve both come a long way since those good ol’ days…

I fell in love with café culture during my year of studying abroad in Paris. Those tiny cups of espresso were my ticket to seeing the city – I often didn’t have the money (or the companionship) to eat meals in each neighborhood’s best restaurants, but I could always scrounge up a couple of Euros for some coffee and a seat at one of those little round tables. I passed so many hours with my sketchbook or my journal, lingering at a Marais sidewalk terrace or a trendy Bastille bistro. It truly was la vie…

I brought this habit back with me for my final year of college and frequented Linnaea’s café in SLO, with its warm back room and lovely garden patio – this was my go-to spot when I had to get away from studio but couldn’t trust myself to study at home, for fear of falling asleep on my books.

And then I moved to Seattle, coffee capitol of the United States! I was living in Capitol Hill, with caffeinated institutions like Bauhaus, Joe Bar, Vivace, Victrola, and Faire just blocks away from my apartment. My office was near Pioneer Square and I often snuck away on my lunch breaks to Zeitgeist or Umbria for some me-time and a latte (now that I had a job, I could afford milk with my espresso – the luxury!). My office eventually moved a little closer to the middle of downtown, and Shane and I gave up our Capitol Hill apartment for a townhouse in Columbia City, and I spent less and less time savoring my coffee with a good book or my journal. I’m realizing lately just how much I’ve missed it – I’ve missed the taste of a latte out of a mug rather than a paper to-go cup, I’ve missed the people-watching and the conversation eaves-dropping (you know you do it, too) and the sense of independence and solitude that comes with taking a table for one. So watch out baristas, ’cause I am back! I got up extra-early yesterday and spent half an hour at Zeitgeist on my way into work, sipping and reading and reveling in the warmth of my sunny spot by the window.  I’m hoping I can make a weekly ritual out of this – some people grow weary without their regular caffeine fix, but I think my fix comes from the cafe itself.

My weekends have been a good mix of chillin’ and sight-seein’ lately, with lots of time spent lazing around with Shane or getting out with friends.  And that’s been grand, but when I found myself with a wide-open Saturday on the calendar I decided I was really in the mood for some quality loner time, so I grabbed a book and a pair of sunglasses, waved good-bye to the hubster, and set out for my own version of Treat Yo-Self 2012.  First stop?  Crumble and Flake, Seattle’s newest buzz-worthy bakery.  This place opened it’s tiny storefront in Capitol Hill a couple of months ago and sells out of its signature items nearly every day.  I grabbed a spot in line right as their doors were opening and scored quite the spread – an apricot-lavender scone, a Kouign Amann (a sugared, caramelized croissant – soooooo good), a cheddar paprika croissant, and a black currant macaron.  In my defense, the cheddar croissant was for Shane, so keep the oink oink remarks to yourselves…

I took my goodies over to Bauhaus, ordered a latte, and found a cozy table by the window.  It’s been awhile since I’ve done some solid cafe-lurking.  Felt good.

Next on the agenda was a visit to the Seattle Art Museum – I haven’t wandered the halls of the SAM for years and it was fun to revisit a couple of my favorites (hello, Anselm Kiefer and Helen Frankenthaler!) and take in the current exhibition on Australian Aboriginal Art.  Plus, there’s just something about a Saturday at the museum that feels so…chic.

I swung by the house for a snack and was soon back out the door with a mission to shop.  I made the usual rounds at Southcenter and practiced restraint when I walked out of DSW with just an (un)sensible pair of black wedges from the clearance rack, but I’ve got my eye on you, taupe leather sandals, I’ve got my eye on you…

I made it back home in time to enjoy the early evening rays from our back patio, where Shane and I drank smoothies and sun-soaked and talked about the day’s happenings.

We made a simple pasta dinner and Shane stuffed himself with noodles (carbo-loading for his race tomorrow!), but I was wise and saved room for dessert – I had a date with a perfect black currant macaron.  Treat yo-self, indeed.

When Nancy emailed Shane and I last week to see if we’d be in for a little surprise camping action for Jason’s birthday, we cleared our calendars and dug our tent out of the recesses of our closet. We set sail for Illahee State Park via the Bremerton ferry on Friday afternoon, loving the sense of “getaway” that comes with watching the Seattle skyline recede in the distance.

An hour and a half later we pulled up to our perfect campsite, nestled among the trees and just minutes away from the water. We set up our tent and inflated our air mattress in record time – Shane was eager to try out the extra mountain bike Jordan had brought along.

We ate our dinner around the campfire that night and stayed up talking and roasting marshmallows – until the rain began to fall in huge, splashing drops. We rushed around like madmen cleaning up camp and then took refuge in our tents, enjoying the nighttime storm from the warmth of our sleeping bags.

Saturday was devoted to a whole bunch of perfect nothin’. Jack and La V joined us late in the morning and we all headed down to the water to check out the beach.

While the ladies spent much of the day basking in the sun, the boys played hard. Frisbee, volleyball, mountain biking, whew!

There was also hammock-lounging, delicious oysters hot off the grill, and an evening swim for our uber-active fellas.

(Who said the Prius is only a 5-seater? Pshhh.)

We spent another evening sitting around the campfire, eating Indian food and grilled crab while the birthday boy waxed poetic about the ups and downs of his 31st year.

The fixin’s were brought out for s’mores round 2, Shane’s bottle of whiskey emerged and made its way around the circle, and the fireside chatter kept up late into the night. I’m constantly wondering with these people where conversation will take us next – there was heated debate over whether or not animals have feelings, there was the ridiculous attempt to decipher the lyrics to Alan Jackson’s Chatahoochee, and there were equal shares of reminiscing and looking forward.

We got a (kind of) early start this morning, toasted our Aussie Bites over the fire, then broke down camp and hit the road. Although I was jonesin’ for a hot shower and the comfort of our bed, I was more than a little sad to say good-bye to our little wooded retreat.

Cheers, J! Wishing you a year filled of laughter, frisbee golf, and plenty more surprise adventures…

Summer has settled upon Seattle with a vengeance, and O – M – G.  The days are gloriously warm, the evenings long and full of leisure.  Shane played basketball and volleyball with the boys on Tuesday night and came home with a sweat-soaked shirt, a twisted ankle, and mile-wide grin on his face.  I met with my book club gals on the lawn of Seward Park last night and watched the last of the sun’s rays glint off Lake Washington.  I finally got around to planting my little herb garden tonight, and then we sat on the back patio until 9:00 and ate grilled nectarines over ice cream.  In shorts!  Until 9 pm!  This weather makes me want to end all my sentences in exclamation points!  And then I want to crank up Sublime on the stereo and let it rip until the neighbors come over to tell me to turn it down, at which point I’ll hand them a Corona with a lime in it and they’ll shrug their shoulders and join the party.  Anyone who says Disneyland is the happiest place on earth clearly hasn’t enjoyed a string of 80-degree days in Seattle…

Seattle continues to bask in all of summer’s glory – temps in the 80’s today and nothin’ but sunshine in the 10-day forecast!  This weekend was all about maximizing our Vitamin D intake, from the time I spent laying in the grass at Seward Park while Shane swam in the lake on Friday evening, to that last bite of corn on cob as we dined on our back patio tonight.  It’s like Christmas came early this year, in the form of blue skies and that blazing ball of heat.

I was itching to get outdoors and out of town on Saturday, so we hopped on the ferry for a mini getaway to Bainbridge Island.  There were a couple of previously-unexplored things we’d been wanting to check out, and a couple of old favorites we were eager to visit, so we grabbed our sunglasses and camera and we were off!

Our first stop was Streamliner Diner, where we scored a cute little table in the sun and feasted on gigantic omelettes and perfect buttermilk biscuits.  Awwwww yeah.

Next on the clipboard of fun were the Bloedel Gardens – a nature reserve on the north end of the island knows for its varied landscapes.  We spent a couple of hours leisurely wandering through the park and fell in love with it all – from the marshy wetland, to the open meadow, to the mossy forest, to the foxgloves and clovers and Japanese maples.  So, so beautiful – I’m adding this place to our “annual summer tradition” list.

By the time we left the garden, the biscuits and omelettes had settled enough to make room for an island favorite – ice cream at Mora!  W agonized over their list of 30+ flavors, settled on a couple of unlikely split-scoops (dulce de leche and lemon bar for Shane; raspberry and sabayon for me), and took our cones to-go so that we could grab a seat down the street and enjoy the live music.  Shane was sold the minute he heard this woman’s bluesy voice crooning the lyrics to a Rachel Yamagata song.  I dug her ukelele and her yellow sunglasses.

A couple of lavender lemonades from Blackbird Bakery, a few minutes of wandering Winslow’s cute downtown, and it was time to catch the ferry back to home sweet home.

We capped off the day with dinner and cocktails at Chez Rust.  Jason and Shane played volleyball in the backyard, Nance and I sat on the patio for some solid catching-up and bird-watching (the neighborhood hawk was making his rounds), and we all remarked over just how good it feels to be outside after what’s felt like such a long winter and spring.

Today was wonderfully mellow – an easy jog and more lounging at Seward Park while Shane did a training swim/bike/run (my man is going to kill that triathlon!) and dinner out back, hot off the grill.

Only downside to this perfect weather?  Hot damn, it’s going to be hard to head back to work tomorrow!

I initially grumbled a bit about the 4th of July falling on a Wednesday this year, wishing instead that we could have rolled the holiday into a three-day weekend, but this mid-week mini-break actually turned out to be kind of awesome.  We slept in, rolled out of bed to watch some baseball (dang it, Giants!), rolled back into bed for a pre-lunch nap, and then finally rustled up the energy to leave the house and head over to Alki for fish and chips and a walk along the beach.  Seattle-ites often complain about our rainy June weather and then offer consolation to one another with the promise that summer doesn’t truly begin here until the 4^th of July – indeed, the sunshine came through in a clutch yesterday and made our city sparkle.

We hung out at home for a little while in the afternoon (confession:  nap #2!) and then made our way to Seward Park so that Shane could do a triathlon training swim and I could catch a few more rays.  So many beautiful expanses of water right at our fingertips!  I was feelin’ some serious love for Seattle…

We spent the evening livin’ it up at Jack and La Verne’s big Independence Day bash.  There was food, there was music, there were friends and laughter and adorable round-bellied babies.  It was summer holiday perfection.

As we drove home along Lake Washington Boulevard, rogue fireworks bursting along the water’s edge, I sighed contentedly and silently counted my blessings – how thankful I am for friends, for sunshine, and for my life in this country, so rich with freedom and beauty.  Land that I love…

It’s a long drive to and from La Pine, Oregon, but after a fun-packed weekend like this one, we are reminded that it’s certainly a trip worth taking.  We rolled up to my mom and dad’s house late Thursday night and quickly fell into bed, weary from more than seven hours on the road, but looking forward to a couple of solid days of family time, relaxation, and life in the great outdoors.

Our hopes for this little getaway were met on all counts, starting with a leisurely jog through La Pine State Park on Friday morning.  It felt good to be so far removed from the city for awhile, to hear the whoosh of the wind through the treetops and breathe in the cool, fresh air.  It felt equally good to hole up indoors for the afternoon, reading and dozing and playing Uno and ping-pong while the rain fell outside.  This is the stuff of a perfect day off.

We had reservations on Friday evening for dinner at the Cowboy Dinner Tree – a super-rustic, super-charming little restaurant known for their home-cooked, family-style meals.  We made the drive waaaaay out there (seriously, this place is rural) and were seated in the cozy dining room, where horse saddles line the walls and the mis-matched tablewear reminds you of something from your grandmother’s kitchen.  We started off with a big bowl of salad and quart-size mason jars of lemonade, and things quickly spiraled out of control from there.  A tray full of dinner rolls, a pot of beef barley soup, and then, as if we weren’t already well on our way to being stuffed, the main course of chicken or steak (they keep their menu simple).  And they aren’t messing around – when you say chicken, you end up with an entire roasted bird on your plate, paired with a huge baked potato.  Ask for steak, and you’ll be given a juicy 30-ounce hunk of meat.  Follow that with triple-berry shortcake for dessert and pray that you’ve worn your pants with the elastic waistband, ’cause you’ll be leaving there with a couple of extra pounds in your belly…  And enough leftovers for lunch and dinner the next day.

The sun did us a huge favor and broke through the clouds as we headed back to La Pine, bathing the brush-covered plains in a warm, beautiful glow.  This is indeed the Oregon Outback – wide-open, kind of scrubby, and (it seems) relatively unchanged from when the first settlers made their way here over one hundred years ago.

We awoke on Saturday to the sound of raindrops on the roof and I feared our plans for a little fishing escapade would be foiled.  But that fickle high desert weather did us another kudos and by 10:00 we were standing in the sun at the edge of Twin Lake, rods in hand.  The fish weren’t biting at the lake, so we packed up after a couple of hours and decided to try our luck on the grassy banks of the Deschutes River.  This proved equally unfruitful and we ended up heading home empty-handed, but the morning wasn’t a total loss – it was a lot of fun to share in one of my dad’s favorite hobbies.  He gave me my first-ever fly-fishing lesson, showed me how to use a worm blower (equally useful and disgusting!), and reminisced with me about the first fish I ever caught when I just a wee five year-old.  It was one of those mornings that the credit card commercials would have deemed “priceless”.

We ate lunch and freshened up back at the house, then drove up to Bend to do some bumming around the “big city”.  We shopped a little, did some beer tasting at the Deschutes Brewery, indulged in nachos and fried zucchini at the Bend Brewing Company, and then walked along the banks of the lazy river where it runs through town.  We wound our back to the car through the booth-lined streets of the “Bite of Bend” fair – I wish I’d saved room for the barbecue and tacos and dumplings being served by the vendors.  I was full stuffed with our pub fare, until I saw the giant helpings of marionberry shortcake topped with whipped cream.  Suddenly, my appetite had returned!

We made one final stop before calling it a day, detouring to the Paulina Peak lookout to take in more of those gorgeous cloudy evening skies.  I like city-living, but life among the pine trees certainly has its merits.

A pancake breakfast this morning, a few more snuggles with Bernie, and then it was time to hit the long dusty trail back to Seattle.  I think I say this every time we visit La Pine, but that may have been the best weekend we’ve ever spent there, as it was such a perfect mix of sight-seeing and resting and quality family time.  Thanks, Mom and Dad (and Bernie)!  It’s been real.

We’ve got a full tank of gas, Florence + the Machine piping through the speakers, a back seat full of snacks, and we are officially on the road! We’ll be spending the next couple of days with my parents at their home in Central Oregon, and sweet lord of vacations, I’m ready for this little getaway. My weekend to-do list, which usually consists of things like yardwork and laundry, has been appropriately modified for the occasion and now looks like this:

– Snuggle up with Bernie, my mom and dad’s super-lovable Australian Shepherd.
– Challenge Shane to a ping-pong face-off and resist my usual urge to pout like a brat when he kicks my butt (although I may get some post-defeat satisfaction in seeing my dad open up his can of whoop-ass on my husband when the two of them go head to head).
– Dig into my stack of library books. I’ve got Life of Pi all queued up and ready to go.
– Catch a fish (and maybe it’s time I bait my own hook?).
– Drink my morning cup of mint tea with my mom while we engage in some solid heart-to-heart, face-to-face catching up.
– Rest, chill, relax, and veg. Repeat as desired.

Happy (early) weekend, friends!