little black journal

We spent most of this weekend down in Portland, enjoying some much-needed time with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece.  It had been over 3 months since my last visit, and I was itching to see how Elise had grown and changed.  She is crawling all over the place now, attempting to take her first steps, although the spill that she took a couple of weeks ago, and the subsequent broken ankle and cumbersome cast, have set her back a little bit walking-wise.  She is incredibly good-natured and has many sorts of smiles – after waking up from a nap she will tuck in her chin and look up at you with a bashful little grin; when you lift her up into the air or tickle her stomach she will squeal with unrestrained laughter.  She is also eating all kinds of new things – veggies are clearly not her favorite, but she has recently discovered the joy of spaghetti, in all its glorious messiness:

Such a darling, loving, fun little girl…  And once again, I am left wondering, “When can I see her again?!”

This weekend was proof that summertime is just around the corner, as I enjoyed: slicing into a perfectly juicy watermelon; taking in a Sunday afternoon baseball game; seeing our little front yard garden grow by the hour; drinking several glasses of chilled white wine; jogging along sparkling Lake Washington; barbecuing in the backyard with neighbors; waking up each morning and opening all the windows in the house; wearing tank tops and flip flops; reveling in the feel of sunshine on my shoulders.  ‘Tis the season for all these warm weather pleasures.

Unfortunately, ’tis also the season for busy-ness, with long hours at work and weekends spent preparing for my next licensing exam.  But I will certainly be taking time to stop and smell the spider mums…  (Flowers courtesy of Shane.)

In honor of our upcoming third anniversary, Shane and I treated ourselves last weekend to a great little getaway to San Francisco.  It was a whirlwind couple of days, filled with amazing food, lots of sunshine (I’ve got the pink shoulders to prove it), a good dose of baseball, plenty of sight-seeing, and good times with old friends.  The highlights:

We arrived on Friday morning, checked into our cute little room at the Mosser, and headed straight back out the door toward Golden Gate Park.  We were both eager to check out two of SF’s newest museums – the de Young by Herzog and de Meuron, and the recently remodeled California Academy of Sciences by Renzo Piano.  Both buildings were stunning.  The copper panels of the de Young were sleek and gorgeous; the glassy lobby and hilly roof of the Academy of Sciences were simple but incredibly thoughtful.  We grabbed lunch at The Moss Room in the Academy of Sciences and then spent a couple of hours wandering through the museum, taking in the lushness of the miniature rainforest and the wonderful colors and shapes of the sea-life in the aquarium.  I felt like an awe-struck little kid, excitedly grabbing Shane by the arm every few minutes to point out some cool little butterfly or crazy swimming seadragon.  Awesome.

We spent the evening enjoying a decadent dinner at Perbacco, and then headed to District wine bar to meet up with some of my old friends from college for a drink.  It was good to catch up – B and I lived together for two years in college and were both in Paris for our fourth year abroad.  So many memories together, and so many details to share about our post-college lives!  I would have loved to stay up all night chatting, but the wine, the heavy pasta dinner, and the rich chocolate dessert were all beginning to put me under, and so we headed back to our hotel, tired but satisfied with a perfect day in the city.

Saturday we had just two main missions:  enjoy a fantastic brunch at Citizen Cake and take in a Giants game at AT&T Park.  Mission number one was accomplished as I polished off an amazing egg/avacado/gruyere breakfast sandwich at our nice little corner table by the window.  And a couple of hours later, we were well into mission number two, as we grabbed our seats at the ballpark, bought an ice-cold lemonade, and sat back to cheer on our favorite team.  The Giants, unfortunately, were no match for the Mets that day, but nonetheless, it was a well-spent afternoon.

Saturday night we headed to the Marina to get dinner at A16, then bussed south to grab drinks at Bix – a small bar that came highly recommended to us by a good friend.  Bix was awesome, from the perfectly prepared cocktails, to the uber-cool jazz band mellowly jamming out in the corner, to the friendly guy that sat next us and bought Shane and I each a shot of good tequila in honor of our anniversary.  This place has been added to the list of must-hits for our next return to San Francisco.

Sunday began with a visit to the Mission district.  We picked up a couple of tarts at Tartine and walked over to Dolores Park to munch on our treasures and enjoy the view of the city.  Lovely.

Our weekend of gluttony continued as we headed to the Ferry Building to try out the notorious oysters at Hog Island.  Being near the water was wonderful – the breeze that blew in from the bay gave us a welcome break from the heat.  Our final sight-see of the day was to visit the sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf.  I love these animals – I could watch them bark and flop and laze for hours.

One final bar stop to enjoy a beer with some good friends that were in San Francisco for the day, and our time in the city had come to a close.  And so the planning begins for our next trip back!  I had somehow forgotten or just never realized what an incredible place San Francisco can be.  So much to see, so much to eat, and so little time…

I have undertaken the task going through the nearly 3000 photos I took during our two-week vacation, picking out some of my favorites for printing or sharing here.  It’s a slow process – so many to choose from, each one coupled with a special memory.  I’ll sporadically post a few on my blog as I’m sorting – here are the particularly special ones I came across tonight:

By the end of our time in Paris, Shane was rolling his eyes as I stopped to take my 200th picture of Parisian roof lines.  Can’t help it – even though buildings like this are found all over the city, I am still enamoured with each and every one of them.  So lovely…

Lampposts were also a favorite photographic subject – it’s all about the little things (although the sight of the Eiffel Tower in the background certain helps the composition).

More roof lines – this one was taken from the terrace of the Pompidou:

Signs of springtime…

Rue Montorgueil – one of my favorite streets in Paris, lined with cafes and cheese shops and little markets.  Shane and I had a nice leisurely lunch at a little pizzeria on this street after our trip to the Pompidou.

Place des Vosges – one of my favorite public squares in Paris (I’m starting to notice that everything in Paris is described as “my favorite…” – bear with me).  We stayed just a couple of blocks away from here and frequented this spot.  Great place to sit on a bench, eat a sandwich, and people-watch.

Yowsers:

Already our time in Paris and Portugal feels like it was so long ago – I’m ready for a repeat!  But for now, my memories and my thousands of photos will have to do, which isn’t so bad – there’s satisfaction in reminiscing about such a perfect trip…

It has of course been difficult falling back into the daily grind after our 2-week fairy-tale of a vacation, but I feel like Seattle has been especially good to us since our return.  We’ve enjoyed good times with friends and neighbors, and we’ve had some great opportunities to enjoy Seattle’s multitude of entertainment offerings.

We hit up our first Mariners game of the season a couple of weeks ago and are so looking forward to more visits to the ballpark – I have made it my mission to learn the names of at least 9 Mariners and to seek out the best hot dog that Safeco field has to offer.  A daunting mission, yes, but one that will ultimately earn me the utmost respect of my husband, and so I’m calling it a worthy endeavor.

Last Saturday we enjoyed our first ever Seattle Sounders game at Qwest field.  Our friends had scored four tickets right at the 50-yard line and asked us if we wanted to go with them – um, yes, please!  The excitement over Seattle’s soccer club was almost electric, as people jumped and shouted and hugged after each goal.  Confetti rained from the skies when the team declared their victory – it was quite the athletic event.  It’s a bummer that Seattle had to say good-bye to their NBA team last year, but I am stoked about the buzz our city’s soccer club has generated.

Sunday I officially became part of the Aluminum Siding fan club as I watched my friend D’s dance performance at On the Boards.  She titled her piece “Chemo Confessions”, as it explores the struggle she endured in overcoming cancer a couple of years ago.  I was moved to tears as I watched D use her art to express the fear, the pain, and the ultimate necessity for strength that a battle with cancer entails.  I am in awe of the way she has turned her experience into something so inspirational and so beautiful.  I have a whole new admiration for her, and a whole new excitement about modern dance.

Last night we headed to the theater for a performance of Crime and Punishment at Intiman.  The play was intense and dramatic, and the intimate setting of the theater heightened the whole experience.  I could see the beads of sweat on Raskolnikov’s tormented face, the tears falling from Sonia’s desperate eyes.  I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath throughout the final scenes until the stage went dark, the play ended, and I found myself needing to deeply inhale.

So, do I miss Europe?  Well, yes.  Duh.  But I am excited about the breadth of experiences that Seattle has to offer.  Looking forward to taking advantage of more of my city’s offerings!

We came back to a Seattle full of vibrant colors – it seems that every day something new blooms in the neighborhood.  I love the new growth that Spring brings, along with the promise of longer days, baseball games at Safeco field, and backyard barbeques with neighbors.  Dare I bring out the flip-flops and pack away my heavy wool coat for the year?

After a rainy stroll through the Parque del Retiro and a cafe con leche at the top of the CaixaForum building, we left Madrid to head back to Paris on Friday.  Our time in Madrid had felt too short, and I had loved Portugal, but I was itching to get back to Paris.  And from the minute we popped up out of the Metro station and onto the sidewalks of the 3rd arrondisement, I was overjoyed.  So happy to hear the sound of French being spoken around me, so taken with the rooflines and wrought iron railings on the buildings facing the street, so drawn to those tiny tables on the sidewalks in front of the brasseries.  In a way, it felt like coming home, which was cool – it’s nice to know that nearly five years after living here, I still haven’t lost my knowledge of and my attachment to Paris.  We checked into our cute little room on Rue de Turbigo and then set out for dinner at Cafe Briezh – we’d been eyeing this place’s dinner crepes last week, but had never been able to get a table.  We had success at finding a spot this time and promptly ordered a buckwheat crepe with cheese, ham and mushrooms for myself and one filled with egg, cheese, and smoked filet mignon for Shane.  Paired with a pitcher of the special hard cider of the house, dinner was delicious.  We of course had left room for dessert, and ordered one crepe with bananas, caramel, and ice cream, and another with chocolate, pears, and whipped cream.  Heaven.

We spent the rest of the evening strolling through the Marais and along the Seine, stopping on Ile de la Cite to listen to the same sidewalk jazz band that we’d come across the Friday before.  We ended the night with a small carafe of wine from Les Philosophes and went to bed that night so thankful that we’d have one more day to soak in the richness of Paris.

We were thrilled to wake up to clear blue skies on Saturday morning.  The first order of business of the day was hopping on the Metro toward Montparnasse, as part of our continual quest for the perfect pain au chocolat.  Jack had read an article about a baker down there whose croissants had gotten rave reviews, and so we figured, “Why not?”  We picked up a couple of pastries and found a bench in a nearby park where we could sit and savor our buttery finds.  My pain au chocolat was pretty near perfect – crisp and flaky on the outside, soft and airy on the inside, and swirled with a ribbon of rich dark chocolate.  The breakfast of gods:

Next stop was the Fondation Cartier, a large art exhibition space and one of my favorite contemporary buildings in Paris.  I appreciate this place more and more each time I visit it – so simple, but so well-planned and special.  I noticed for the first time the amazing green wall that is growing over the entrance – nice!

We had dedicated the rest of the day to aimlessly wandering the city, lounging on park benches and sitting at cafe terraces.  And so we strolled over to the Jardin du Luxembourg to see how much blooming the flowers had done since we’d been there ten days ago.  The tulips were popping open in bright shades of orange and pink, and we grabbed a couple of chairs in front of the small pond to soak in the spring colors and watch the kids nearby push their little sailboats around in the water.

One hour, one baguette sandwich, and many rays of sun later, we were ready to peel ourselves from our lounge chairs and do some walking.  We ended up at the Jardin des Plantes, where we found more brightly blooming flowers and a park bench with our name on it.  And so we took a seat to for more people-watching, flower-gazing, and sun-soaking.  Saturday afternoons just don’t get any better than that.

And what better way to end a couple hours of park lounging than with a cold beer or a cup of espresso at a sidewalk cafe?  So we made another trip to Les Philosophes (our new favorite Marais bar) to have a drink and really “play Parisian”, as all of the terraces were crowded with French people enjoying their weekend.

For dinner that night, we checked out a cute little restaurant called Robert and Louise on Vielle du Temple.  Shane had both escargot and confit du canard for the first time, and loved them both.  The snails were smooth and buttery, and the duck leg was tender and fatty.  Mmmmm…  For dessert, we decided to head out and find a table on a sidewalk terrace.  We found such a table a couple blocks away and were soon sitting in front of a tasty little dish of creme brule, a cup of espresso, and a nice glass of Port.  We ate and drank as we watched the stylish passers-by, took in the view of the lovely Parisian streetfronts, and enjoyed the company of each other, so thankful for the memories that had been made over the past two weeks.  We ended the evening with a walk along the Seine, with its glittering reflections and beautiful bridges, and there on the Pont Neuf we said our good-byes to Paris, promising we would return again before too long.

In need of just one more chance to revel in Paris, I got up at 6 this morning to take a final walk through the city.  As I wandered the deserted streets, I was again so thankful for the chance to revisit what I have come to believe is one of the most beautiful places in the world.

We are on the plane back to Seattle now, and there were a few tears on the runway as it really sunk in that our long-anticipated trip is over, but there’s an ever-increasing part of me that is ready to be home.  I miss our house, our bed, our friends and neighbors, and my nightly cup of mint tea.  I am looking forward to seeing if our daffodils have bloomed, to cooking in our kitchen (you can only sustain a diet of pastries and cheese for so long…), and to being able to pick up the phone to call my family or my best friends without worrying about time changes or long distance charges.  Yes, on the flip side, there is a list of things I will miss about Europe as well: our morning runs to the boulangerie, speaking French (I made it through our entire time in Paris without having to use English with any French speakers!  I had forgotten how much I love that language…), having access to so much art right at my fingertips, fast and efficient public transportation, and tiny cups of espresso  But it is time to go home.  HOME.  That sounds nice.  And so, au revoir Paris…

Our second day in Madrid was a whirlwind of sight-seeing, as we tried to absorb as much as we could during our relatively short time there.  The first stop of the day was the Museo del Prado, which houses one of Spain’s most prized art collections.  It was fantastic to see in person so many paintings that I’d read about in art history books – pieces by Goya, Velazquez, and Ribera.  I was particularly taken with the brooding, somber qualities of Goya’s later work – more muted color palettes, less representational figures, dramatic brush strokes.  Shane accuses me of only liking “dark art”, and I guess my inclination towards these pieces only reinforced his point.  Who knew I had a dark side?

All of that art-seeing had us hungry, so we hopped across the street for a leisurely lunch (tapas, of course).  The sun was shining and I reveled in the warmth of our little table on the plaza.  Aaaahhh…  On the way to our next stop after lunch, we came across the CaixaForum – a totally amazing building recently completed by Herzog and deMeuron.  I was instantly taken with the outside of the building, and the super-cool green wall growing next to it.  The interior was impressive as well, with its innovative use of materials and simple, sleek forms.

After my contemporary-architecture-fix, we headed down the road for a contemporary-art-fix at the Reina Sofia.  The highlight of the museum visit was seeing Picasso’s “Guernica” – a piece famous for his representation of the horrors of war.  What a difference it makes to see a painting in person – I had glossed over this piece so many times in books, but standing there in front of it, as it filled the whole room, I understood the power of Picasso’s work.  Wow.

We said good-bye to Jack and La Verne yesterday evening as they hopped on a bus bound for southern Spain, and so Shane and I were left to our own devices for our final night in Madrid.  We took a walk through the near-by botanical gardens, enjoying the freshly bloomed flowers and the sight of so many families out for an evening stroll.

We then started our slow trek across the city center, stopping once or twice for tapas and beer along the way, and finally arrived at Madrid’s Royal Palace.  The palace was closed by the time we got there, but we were able to see the outside and spent awhile sitting on the steps of the church facing the palace, taking in the view of what has been called “Spain’s Versailles”.

From the Royal Palace, we wound our way back to the hotel, stopping once more for tapas and again for churros and chocolate – a local dessert or breakfast consisting of strips of fried dough dipped in a super-thick cup of hot chocolate.  Yes, it is just as rich and as fatty as it sounds.  But man, it tastes gooooood.  And we’re on vacation, right?  We fell into bed last night with tired feet and sore legs (and just the slightest stomach ache from our decadent dessert), but were so grateful for the chance we’d had to see so much during our short time there.  Shane has already put Spain on the “must-come-back-to” list.  No arguments here!

(This one was written on Thursday.)

We were up before dawn yesterday to catch our flight to Madrid.  After an insane cab ride to the airport (our driver sang to us in Portuguese while driving so fast that his speedometer needle had no place else to go), a short plane ride via RyanAir, and about an hour in the underground maze of Madrid’s Metro, we popped up on Paseo de Delicias and arrived at our hotel.  We were tired, but eager to drop off our things and begin our exploration of Spain.  And so the four of us headed to the train station down the street to purchase tickets to nearby Toledo, an old, beautiful city about 30 minutes south of Madrid by train.  Success was had, and by early afternoon, we were winding up the narrow cobblestone streets of Toledo on our way to the city’s cathedral, which has been termed “the best in Spain”.  The cathedral was impressive, in all its intricacy and elaborateness – it seemed that every surface of its interior was covered in fine carvings or beautiful paintings.  After our healthy dose of religious finery, we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the town, just soaking in all that Toledo had to offer.  Sampled some local marzipan, peeked into the El Greco museum, and spent some time just hanging out on a bench in the town’s main plaza.  By the end of the afternoon, I was ready to escape the crowds of tourists and find out where Spain’s locals like to hang out, but it was a very pleasant day, all in all.

After a couple of hours back at the hotel to regain our strength and build up our appetites, we headed to Madrid’s city center to begin our much-anticipated tapas crawl.  I have come to believe that tapas may be one of my absolutely most favorite things about Spain.  You walk down nearly any street in Madrid at 10 pm and you will find at least one little hole in the wall where people whittle away the hours at the bar, snacking on small plates of local fare and throwing back impressive quantities of cerveza (beer) or vino (wine).  The look on every one’s faces seems to say, “I’ve got no place I need to be except right here”.  And so we sampled small plates of thinly sliced ham, spicy chorizo, sharp cheese, fresh clams, vinegar-soaked sardines, grilled prawns, and potatoes topped with a creamy, spicy sauce.  Five tapas bars later, we were full, satisfied with a night spent in true Spanish style.  I could so get used to this…

We have been without internet access for the past couple of days, so I’ve been unable to upload my daily posts – excuse me while I play catch-up.  (This one was written on Wednesday.)

Our last day in Portugal was full of both great adventure and perfect leisure.  We rented a car for the day to drive out of town to visit some of the nearby vineyards.  Shane was slightly nervous about driving here, as Portugal is known as one of the most auto-accident prone cities, and in the words of Rick Steves, “If you get in an accident, you will be blamed.”  Eeek!  But my ever-so-brave husband volunteered to get behind the wheel for the sake of all of us being able to see this other side of Portugal.  And so, the four of us piled into our cute little Toyota Yaris and were on our way to the vineyards.  Getting out of the city was relatively easy, as traffic was light and we were able to avoid any of Porto’s 10-foot wide, two-way roads (it’s amazing that anyone in that city still has their side-view mirrors).  The freeway was easy going as well, but once we turned off the several-lane highway way and onto the smaller roads to get to the quintas (the vineyard houses/tasting rooms), things got just a little hairy.  Trucks will come barreling around curves so quickly on roads that are so narrow that you have to be ready to hit the brakes and hug the very edge of the road with only half a second’s warning.  But Jack navigated and Shane drove like a champ, and after only a couple of wrong turns and one or two white-knuckled close calls, we rolled up to our first stop of the day, Quinta do Panascal.  And within seconds we knew that the harrowing drive was totally worth it, as vineyards unrolled before us in front of a perfect blue sky.  We were allowed to freely wander as we listened to an audio tour about the history of the quinta, and spent nearly an hour taking in the beauty of the vines and the hills and the calm little river at the base of the valley.

We then tasted a couple of the Ports, took a few more deep breaths of the fresh country air, and hopped back in the car to go get some lunch.  Jack had read about this great little restaurant on the edge of the Duoro River called D.O.C., and so we decided to check it out and treat ourselves to a really nice meal.  As soon as we were served our appetizer of small toasts topped with warm brie cheese and pepper jelly, I knew we were in for something special.  I chose the four-course menu, which consisted of cream of asparagus soup with scallop and mushroom ravioli, then octopus with potatoes and wilted greens, an intermezzo of tangerine sorbet, then braised pork cheek paired with a creamy mushroom and bread mixture, and, for dessert, warm apple pie topped with goat cheese and a dollop of olive oil ice cream.  Ooh, la, la…

The food was beautiful and amazing, the open view of the river was wonderful, and the company of good friends was such a blessing.  A perfect meal.  And so we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant, absolutely stuffed but wanting to hit a couple of more quintas before heading back to Porto.  We weren’t able to find anything quite as special as our first stop, but we still were able to taste some good Port and do some more exploring.  We hit the road back to Porto late in the afternoon in order to get the rental car back on time, sorry to say good-bye to this spectacular little corner of the world, but completely satisfied with a genuinely fantastic day.  Again, Shane handled the roads like a rock-star driver, and we made it back to the hotel incident-free.

After watching the sun set over our last night in Porto, and still full from lunch, we grabbed a few small things from the market around the corner and picnicked on the hotel patio for dinner.  It had been a full day, and it felt good to relax, to unwind, and to look forward to our upcoming adventure: next stop, Madrid!