Michael and I were on the road by 7:30am on Thursday, June 30th, as we set off on our grand birthday / Fourth of July adventure to San Francisco. The weather leaving Portland was gray with some light rain / mist, but by the time we stopped for lunch in Grants Pass, the sun was out in force. Ahhhh, the sun. It was heaven to be headed down I-5, with my bare feet on the dash, talking with Michael as he drove. How I love road trips! It had been quite awhile since I'd been much further south than Albany, so I enjoyed watching the countryside change along the way and taking note of each new little town we passed through.
Since it was such a beautiful day, we had an amazing view of Mt. Shasta (seemed so close you could almost reach out and touch her). There was still some snow on her sides, but definitely not as much as we'd seen on her northern neighbor, Mt. St. Helens, just the week before.
After we passed Mt. Shasta, we went through a really windy section of highway and saw deer at two different places along the side of the road. It was a bit heart-stopping as both times the deer were walking toward the freeway, like they wanted to try to cross, then bounded away at the last minute back to the safety of the forest. The last two deer we saw were a mama and fawn. The baby was so little it still had the light-colored spots on its back--so sweet.
We changed places and I took over driving for a couple of hours once we hit the straight, flat section of freeway that seemed to emerge almost as soon as we crossed the border into the sunshine state. Michael kept track of our progress using the Garmin and was able to get the picture I'd been trying to get while he drove: a sign showing how many miles left to San Fran. It seemed like every 10 miles or so there were signs announcing how many miles left to get to Sacramento and how many to San Fran. We would announce them to each other as we saw them, "258 miles to San Fran!" The Garmin also kept track of our estimated arrival time, and for most of the trip it was around 6:00pm. Once we came into San Francisco, however, we hit rush hour traffic and our ETA kept getting later and later.
I was so thankful that Michael was driving when we got to San Francisco because suddenly there were six lanes of traffic and many people seemed to be driving aggressively, suddenly changing lanes without signaling. I think the motorcyclists scared us the most as they rode between lanes of traffic, zipping between cars in order to get where they were going as fast as possible.
We got a great view of the bay as we came into San Francisco and crossed the Bay Bridge ($6 toll!) and daydreamed about what it would be like to live in a place where so many days of the year yielded bright, sunny skies.
When we made our online hotel reservations for the trip at the Holiday Inn Express by the San Fran airport, we weren't sure if we would be able to make it all the way in one day, so they weren't expecting us until Friday. We figured that if we got tired, we could stay somewhere a couple hours from San Fran and finish the trip the next morning. But since we got there with no problems in about 10 1/2 hours of driving, we thought we'd see if we could check in at our hotel early. Unfortunately, they were booked, but we were able to get a room at a Holiday Inn just down the street.
We didn't end up eating dinner until pretty late that night, but luckily there was a restaurant / bar attached to the hotel so we didn't have to go far. Initially we had talked about eating at the Cheesecake Factory at the top of the Macy's building in downtown S.F. (recommended by a friend), but after driving so long and battling rush-hour traffic, neither of us felt like trying to navigate the downtown area and find parking. The food at the hotel bar was pretty good and we split two kinds of dessert for my birthday: a "Snickers" type of ice cream dessert and banana cream pie. After that it was off to bed as we had plans to get up at the crack of dawn (for the second day in a row) to go wait in line for Alcatraz tickets. I'd been unable to find any available tickets online (websites all said they were sold out until after our stay) and when I had tried calling the number for the ticket office, all I got was a busy signal. But I had read online that it was possible to get standby tickets if you were willing to wait in line, and so we decided that Alcatraz would be our first order of sightseeing business in San Francisco on Friday.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Weekend Fun: A Wedding Reception And A Shed Raising
The weekend of June 4th and 5th was quite busy for us, as we had both a wedding reception to attend (on Saturday), and a shed to build from scratch in our backyard.
Michael's parents, Ted & Donna, very graciously spent their weekend with us, beginning on Friday afternoon and lasting until nearly 10p.m. on Sunday. Ted and Michael were hard at work buying materials, measuring, nailing, lifting (and even a little bleeding) to get the shed built. Donna and I tried to keep them hydrated and fed at regular intervals.
Our friend John helped out on Saturday and Sunday, lending an extra pair of hands and getting to experience an authentic "shed raising," which I like to think is not too unlike the barn raisings of the past, when neighbors would all pitch in to get a barn built in a day or two. And now, if he feels a hankering for a shed of his own, he knows exactly what to do to get it!
The guys were up early on Saturday (like 6a.m early), as they wanted to get as much done as possible before leaving for the wedding reception later that day. I had a couple of appointments in the morning, so I ended up meeting Michael and his parents downtown at the venue where the reception was being held. The weather couldn't have been nicer. And to tell the truth, it was the first really nice day we've had this summer. It felt so good to walk outside without my coat, to feel the sun warm my head and shoulders, and to see other Portlanders out enjoying the sun in tank tops, sundresses and shorts. It was like everything, including us, was reborn, and it was heaven to put on our sandals, get outside and remember what the sun feels like.
The reception was held down by the waterfront at a cute little wine bistro called "Thirst." When I entered the restaurant, I was serenaded by the sounds of keyboard and saxophone by two musicians stationed near one of the entrances. I soon found Donna and her cousin Jan who is one of the mothers of the two brides, Bobbi and Kelsey. Bobbi had been to our wedding back in 2004, and we'd seen her at various family gatherings over the last 10 years since Michael and I have been together, but neither of us had yet met her now-wife. We were only able to chat a bit, as seems to be the case at most wedding receptions I've attended, but she seems like a sweet girl, and the two of them look very, very happy together.
We were served a very lovely luncheon of salmon or steak, a excellent rice pilaf dish, potatoes, caesar salad and whatever the bar had that we wanted to drink--I was delighted with my glass of sparkling water (Perrier), and in fact downed a couple of bottles of it during our time there.
After lunch there was a heartfelt toast given by Kelsey's cousin, wishing the two brides happiness in their new life together, and then we were invited to sample one or many of the cupcakes provided by a local "cupcakery", St. Cupcake. They were bite-size bits of heaven, truly heaven, and I could have eaten a whole lot of them. My favorite was the red velvet cake, although the vanilla cupcake was also divine. And how could they go wrong with cheesecake frosting? Mmmm, the best.
It was after the cupcakes that the guys excused themselves to head back home where the beginnings of the shed were patiently waiting to be assembled. Donna and I lounged at a sidewalk table outside the restaurant for at least another hour, enjoying the sun and the slight breeze coming off the river.
Finally we said our goodbyes and headed back to the house where it seemed to be much, much warmer. The men were parched and Michael was already sunburned. I slathered his neck, face and forearms with sunscreen, and sent him back out where he was happy as a clam working alongside his dad and John. I'm sure it was a nice change of pace for him to use his hands for something other than clicking a mouse and using a keyboard as he does for 50+ hours a week at work.
The shed progressed quite rapidly . . . Donna and I tried to remember to run to the backyard every so often to take pictures of the latest stage of development. I was most nervous when it came time for the roofing, as I was worried someone would slip and fall. I was right to be wary of an accident, but I did not guess that it would be the nail gun to fall off of the ladder, instead of one of the men.
Ted was the unlucky one who was in the path of the falling nail gun, or rather, his right thumb was--it got him good, tearing a chunk of flesh loose and cracking part of the thumbnail. Michael, John and I were standing nearby when it happened, and what scared us most was that we knew something had happened since we heard the nail gun fall, but we didn't know what. That and Ted's response to our questions about him being okay--a quiet "no." One of the man's heroes is John Wayne, and he is just as tough, so hearing him say that he was not okay made us all very worried. Luckily, it was "just" his thumb (and not his head, as Michael feared, or his leg / foot, as I feared), so in that respect, things turned out well.
He let me put one Band-Aid on his thumb, then asked Michael to bring him some painter's tape so he could tape the rest of it up and keep working. I pointed out that one corner of the wound was still visible in the middle of the bandage, and told him we should put something over it so he didn't get dirt in there. He smiled and replied, "Dirt will just stop the bleeding." Tough as nails, that man.
The guys were outside until after nightfall, and finished up everything but part of the roofing and the door. Michael said he could do those last bits on his own later in the week. They came inside for a dinner of homemade chicken soup, courtesy of Donna, and then both of his parents headed off back home to The Dalles. We tried to get them to stay with us one more night, but they were planning to leave for a week's stay in Welches, and wanted to get home so they could finish getting ready and leave early the following day.
Michael and I were both so grateful for their help; it was a job that Michael couldn't have completed half as well without his dad there to guide and oversee the operations. And his mom kept me company and even weeded a good deal of our yard for us. We are lucky to have them.
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Michael's parents, Ted & Donna, very graciously spent their weekend with us, beginning on Friday afternoon and lasting until nearly 10p.m. on Sunday. Ted and Michael were hard at work buying materials, measuring, nailing, lifting (and even a little bleeding) to get the shed built. Donna and I tried to keep them hydrated and fed at regular intervals.
Our friend John helped out on Saturday and Sunday, lending an extra pair of hands and getting to experience an authentic "shed raising," which I like to think is not too unlike the barn raisings of the past, when neighbors would all pitch in to get a barn built in a day or two. And now, if he feels a hankering for a shed of his own, he knows exactly what to do to get it!
The guys were up early on Saturday (like 6a.m early), as they wanted to get as much done as possible before leaving for the wedding reception later that day. I had a couple of appointments in the morning, so I ended up meeting Michael and his parents downtown at the venue where the reception was being held. The weather couldn't have been nicer. And to tell the truth, it was the first really nice day we've had this summer. It felt so good to walk outside without my coat, to feel the sun warm my head and shoulders, and to see other Portlanders out enjoying the sun in tank tops, sundresses and shorts. It was like everything, including us, was reborn, and it was heaven to put on our sandals, get outside and remember what the sun feels like.
The reception was held down by the waterfront at a cute little wine bistro called "Thirst." When I entered the restaurant, I was serenaded by the sounds of keyboard and saxophone by two musicians stationed near one of the entrances. I soon found Donna and her cousin Jan who is one of the mothers of the two brides, Bobbi and Kelsey. Bobbi had been to our wedding back in 2004, and we'd seen her at various family gatherings over the last 10 years since Michael and I have been together, but neither of us had yet met her now-wife. We were only able to chat a bit, as seems to be the case at most wedding receptions I've attended, but she seems like a sweet girl, and the two of them look very, very happy together.
We were served a very lovely luncheon of salmon or steak, a excellent rice pilaf dish, potatoes, caesar salad and whatever the bar had that we wanted to drink--I was delighted with my glass of sparkling water (Perrier), and in fact downed a couple of bottles of it during our time there.
After lunch there was a heartfelt toast given by Kelsey's cousin, wishing the two brides happiness in their new life together, and then we were invited to sample one or many of the cupcakes provided by a local "cupcakery", St. Cupcake. They were bite-size bits of heaven, truly heaven, and I could have eaten a whole lot of them. My favorite was the red velvet cake, although the vanilla cupcake was also divine. And how could they go wrong with cheesecake frosting? Mmmm, the best.
It was after the cupcakes that the guys excused themselves to head back home where the beginnings of the shed were patiently waiting to be assembled. Donna and I lounged at a sidewalk table outside the restaurant for at least another hour, enjoying the sun and the slight breeze coming off the river.
Finally we said our goodbyes and headed back to the house where it seemed to be much, much warmer. The men were parched and Michael was already sunburned. I slathered his neck, face and forearms with sunscreen, and sent him back out where he was happy as a clam working alongside his dad and John. I'm sure it was a nice change of pace for him to use his hands for something other than clicking a mouse and using a keyboard as he does for 50+ hours a week at work.
The shed progressed quite rapidly . . . Donna and I tried to remember to run to the backyard every so often to take pictures of the latest stage of development. I was most nervous when it came time for the roofing, as I was worried someone would slip and fall. I was right to be wary of an accident, but I did not guess that it would be the nail gun to fall off of the ladder, instead of one of the men.
Ted was the unlucky one who was in the path of the falling nail gun, or rather, his right thumb was--it got him good, tearing a chunk of flesh loose and cracking part of the thumbnail. Michael, John and I were standing nearby when it happened, and what scared us most was that we knew something had happened since we heard the nail gun fall, but we didn't know what. That and Ted's response to our questions about him being okay--a quiet "no." One of the man's heroes is John Wayne, and he is just as tough, so hearing him say that he was not okay made us all very worried. Luckily, it was "just" his thumb (and not his head, as Michael feared, or his leg / foot, as I feared), so in that respect, things turned out well.
He let me put one Band-Aid on his thumb, then asked Michael to bring him some painter's tape so he could tape the rest of it up and keep working. I pointed out that one corner of the wound was still visible in the middle of the bandage, and told him we should put something over it so he didn't get dirt in there. He smiled and replied, "Dirt will just stop the bleeding." Tough as nails, that man.
The guys were outside until after nightfall, and finished up everything but part of the roofing and the door. Michael said he could do those last bits on his own later in the week. They came inside for a dinner of homemade chicken soup, courtesy of Donna, and then both of his parents headed off back home to The Dalles. We tried to get them to stay with us one more night, but they were planning to leave for a week's stay in Welches, and wanted to get home so they could finish getting ready and leave early the following day.
Michael and I were both so grateful for their help; it was a job that Michael couldn't have completed half as well without his dad there to guide and oversee the operations. And his mom kept me company and even weeded a good deal of our yard for us. We are lucky to have them.
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Friday, June 10, 2011
Memorial Day Weekend
In this continuation of catching up on blogging is the story of what we did over Memorial Day. It was a busy one spent with our families, which was good and probably overdue.
Saturday Michael and I drove to Vancouver to help get my grandparents settled in at their new assisted living facility. It is only about 5 miles from my mom and dad's house, and having them so close is something that Mom has wanted for a long time. When they were in Dallas, it was just too far from all of their children for anyone to be able to visit them every day or every other day. It was more like once every 2 to 4 weeks. Now my mom can go over for an hour or two and take off when they need to rest or when she has something else she needs to do, and she can do it every day if she wants to.
Michael was asked to help unload the moving truck with the help of Uncle Martin, Uncle Brent and my dad. My job was to keep my grandparents company while their new home was being unpacked. We sat in the "library" at the facility--a lovely room with books lining one wall, a gas fireplace and comfy couches and chairs. My grandma loved sitting in front of the fireplace, even though it was one of the few days we have had when the sun has been shining. She's always on the cold side, so she happily sat there for about 3 hours, chatting with me and having an ice cream cone (the best vanilla I think I have ever had), while Grandpa tried to nap on one of the couches. It turned out to be too short for him to really stretch out and get comfortable, but he was able to close his eyes and rest that way for a bit.
When their room was ready, we all went up and met my mom and two aunts who had been unpacking Grandma and Grandpa's few dishes and knickknacks. Their furniture had been arranged to resemble as closely as possible the arrangement at their apartment in Dallas, mostly for my grandma's benefit. She gets confused easily, and everyone was hoping that if the new place looked like the old place, she might think she was still there, which would reduce the stress of being in a new environment. Sadly, this was not the case.
When it was time for everyone to leave, Grandma got pretty distressed. She almost looked ready to cry, at being left in a place she didn't recognize, with people she didn't know. She had thought that she and Grandpa were "just visiting," and would be returning to Dallas. My parents and Michael and I stayed to have dinner with them in the dining area, to try and help Grandma feel more comfortable. I could understand her distress, as the other residents stared curiously at them as we filed to a table. It was not unlike the feeling of being the new kid at school. Luckily, our group was too big to easily fit a table in the main dining area, so we were invited to eat in a private room just off the main one. It felt like we were in a real restaurant as our orders were taken by an extremely polite boy who looked to be just out of high school (maybe college), and reminded me very much of the boyfriend in the movie Juno--gangly and sweet and soft-spoken.
By the time we'd had our meals (and dessert, of course!), Grandma seemed to be calmer. She didn't fuss when Mom and Grandpa suggested she go upstairs and get her jammies on, and seemed to think it a good idea.
After some initial confusion about medications and Grandpa's oxygen tanks, they both seem to be doing pretty well at their new home. I'm looking forward to being able to see them more frequently too.
The next day, Michael and I went to a birthday celebration for our niece and nephew, Ryan (12) and Jessica (9). Their birthdays are both in May, so usually a day is chosen when schedules are free and that is the day that the extended family celebrates with them. We got to visit with Michael's sister Christy, her husband Dean, his father Kirk, and Michael's parents. It was a full house!
The kids wanted to play Monopoly with us on their WII gaming system and we naively took the bait, only to be trounced by a 12 year-old. This kid could match real estate wits with Donald Trump! Michael joked that we should get the game for our Xbox and practice on our own, then play with Ryan again and beat him. :) Competitive much?
Something I thought was pretty cool was that we ate dessert first! We all had bowls of ice cream with optional berries, almonds, and chocolate topping. Yum. Later we had cheeseburgers or salmon burgers, chips and salsa and potato salad. Even though it was definitely not ideal barbecue weather, the food still tasted good and it was great to catch up with everyone.
On the actual holiday itself, Michael and I started a mini spring cleaning of our home--kind of like the show Clean Sweep. We made lists and designated items to sell or donate, and moved the computer from our upstairs "office" to the downstairs dining area. It felt good to make space in our lives for new things . . . who knows what might happen? ;)
Saturday Michael and I drove to Vancouver to help get my grandparents settled in at their new assisted living facility. It is only about 5 miles from my mom and dad's house, and having them so close is something that Mom has wanted for a long time. When they were in Dallas, it was just too far from all of their children for anyone to be able to visit them every day or every other day. It was more like once every 2 to 4 weeks. Now my mom can go over for an hour or two and take off when they need to rest or when she has something else she needs to do, and she can do it every day if she wants to.
Michael was asked to help unload the moving truck with the help of Uncle Martin, Uncle Brent and my dad. My job was to keep my grandparents company while their new home was being unpacked. We sat in the "library" at the facility--a lovely room with books lining one wall, a gas fireplace and comfy couches and chairs. My grandma loved sitting in front of the fireplace, even though it was one of the few days we have had when the sun has been shining. She's always on the cold side, so she happily sat there for about 3 hours, chatting with me and having an ice cream cone (the best vanilla I think I have ever had), while Grandpa tried to nap on one of the couches. It turned out to be too short for him to really stretch out and get comfortable, but he was able to close his eyes and rest that way for a bit.
When their room was ready, we all went up and met my mom and two aunts who had been unpacking Grandma and Grandpa's few dishes and knickknacks. Their furniture had been arranged to resemble as closely as possible the arrangement at their apartment in Dallas, mostly for my grandma's benefit. She gets confused easily, and everyone was hoping that if the new place looked like the old place, she might think she was still there, which would reduce the stress of being in a new environment. Sadly, this was not the case.
When it was time for everyone to leave, Grandma got pretty distressed. She almost looked ready to cry, at being left in a place she didn't recognize, with people she didn't know. She had thought that she and Grandpa were "just visiting," and would be returning to Dallas. My parents and Michael and I stayed to have dinner with them in the dining area, to try and help Grandma feel more comfortable. I could understand her distress, as the other residents stared curiously at them as we filed to a table. It was not unlike the feeling of being the new kid at school. Luckily, our group was too big to easily fit a table in the main dining area, so we were invited to eat in a private room just off the main one. It felt like we were in a real restaurant as our orders were taken by an extremely polite boy who looked to be just out of high school (maybe college), and reminded me very much of the boyfriend in the movie Juno--gangly and sweet and soft-spoken.
By the time we'd had our meals (and dessert, of course!), Grandma seemed to be calmer. She didn't fuss when Mom and Grandpa suggested she go upstairs and get her jammies on, and seemed to think it a good idea.
After some initial confusion about medications and Grandpa's oxygen tanks, they both seem to be doing pretty well at their new home. I'm looking forward to being able to see them more frequently too.
The next day, Michael and I went to a birthday celebration for our niece and nephew, Ryan (12) and Jessica (9). Their birthdays are both in May, so usually a day is chosen when schedules are free and that is the day that the extended family celebrates with them. We got to visit with Michael's sister Christy, her husband Dean, his father Kirk, and Michael's parents. It was a full house!
The kids wanted to play Monopoly with us on their WII gaming system and we naively took the bait, only to be trounced by a 12 year-old. This kid could match real estate wits with Donald Trump! Michael joked that we should get the game for our Xbox and practice on our own, then play with Ryan again and beat him. :) Competitive much?
Something I thought was pretty cool was that we ate dessert first! We all had bowls of ice cream with optional berries, almonds, and chocolate topping. Yum. Later we had cheeseburgers or salmon burgers, chips and salsa and potato salad. Even though it was definitely not ideal barbecue weather, the food still tasted good and it was great to catch up with everyone.
On the actual holiday itself, Michael and I started a mini spring cleaning of our home--kind of like the show Clean Sweep. We made lists and designated items to sell or donate, and moved the computer from our upstairs "office" to the downstairs dining area. It felt good to make space in our lives for new things . . . who knows what might happen? ;)
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Our Day With Mt. St. Helens
Hard to believe it's been almost 2 months since my last post. We have mostly been busy working and slogging through a seemingly endless spring rainy season, but there has been some time for fun and a few days of glorious sunshine thrown in as well.
The Sunday before Memorial Day, Michael and I got our hiking boots out, packed a lunch and headed out to Mt. St. Helens to meet Gary and Roni. We hadn't seen them since our snowshoeing trip last January, so it was good to catch up and get some fresh woodsy air into our lungs.
Roni researched online and found a trail for us to explore at Coldwater Lake, which, if I am remembering correctly, is about 5 miles from Mt. St. Helens. We met at the boat launch area at 10:30a.m. and weren't really surprised that we were practically the only ones there. The forecast was for clouds with a 30% chance of rain, so I don't think any of us were expecting sunshine. I for one, was glad that I had decided to wear long johns under my cargo pants, as well as several layers of shirts and sweatshirts--and jacket! The temperature was definitely on the cool side when we arrived, but we quickly warmed up once we set out on the trail around the lake.
We watched as one lone fisherman launched a boat that looked like it was part raft and did not seem as if it would provide any protection against the elements. Besides him and the family of three cyclists we saw upon our arrival, it seemed like we were alone in the misty morning air with the lake and the creatures who call the area home.
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| Close to where I think the base of Mt. St. Helens is . . . |
It didn't take long for one of the guys to spot a herd of elk meandering along the hillside to our left. Immediately we all wished we had brought binoculars, as the elk looked mostly like tiny cream-colored shapes that moved every so often. We did see a lot of their droppings as we continued along the trail and one very large hoof print. Next time we will have to bring the binoculars for sure.
Every so often we came to a place where water was rushing down from the hillside, and made me cognizant of just how much snow was still up there. We came to two or three such places and there was always a plank of wood over the water, or the tops of rocks in just the right places to form a little bridge that we walked across to get to where the trail continued. It was a little precarious, but we all managed to cross without mishap. We could tell when we were getting close to one of these crossings because we'd hear the rushing water as we approached, and it was exciting to see what we would find on the other end.
After about two miles of hiking, we heard quite a lot of water off in the distance, and when the trail brought us to the place where the water came down, I got nervous. This seemed like wider, faster water than we'd experienced at the other crossings, with a steep drop studded with rocks to the lake below. Most importantly, there was no bridge. There were a few rocks sticking up here and there, but none in a clear path to the other side, and there weren't any low-hanging tree branches to hang on to for balance as there had been at one of the other places we'd crossed. It looked like it would be very easy to slip on a rock and fall in. We stood around and discussed whether or not we should try crossing, and the consensus was that we would turn around and head back the way we'd come rather than risk it to continue around the lake. I breathed an inward sigh of relief at the decision because I'm not that coordinated when it comes to that type of thing--I think the guys would have risked it, but Roni and I saw the potential for an unhappy end to our hiking adventure, and were very glad to turn back. We all agreed it would be good to hike the trail again later in the year when there wouldn't be so much water coming off the hillsides.
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| Roni & Gary at Coldwater Lake |
It was lunchtime by the time we returned to the trailhead, so we headed over to some picnic tables and tucked in. It was then that I noticed more people and cars in the parking lot, which was surprising because it was still very cool out and had been raining off and on for the last few hours. I guess I was surprised there were so many people who were not afraid of a little bad weather when it came to exploring the outdoors on a Sunday afternoon.
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| Looking down the hillside at the observatory |
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| Michael and the volcano |
We were all able to get inside the observatory for free, thanks to Gary and Roni's National Forest Park annual pass, which allowed them to bring up to three people with them as guests--awesome. It was neat to walk around looking at the exhibits which gave information on the May 1980 eruption, and realize that where we were standing was directly inside the "blast zone." Had we been there that day in 1980, we would surely all have died, just as David Johnston, the volcanologist with the United States Geological Survey, who lived and worked at the outpost where the observatory that bears his name now stands, died that day. Johnston was the first to sound the alarm about the eruption, transmitting "Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it!" Then he was hit by the sideways blast that occurred as part of the north side of the mountain collapsed.
Once we were finished touring the observatory, we headed back to our cars just as the skies opened up and the intermittent showers we'd been experiencing for most of the day morphed into a heavy, drenching downpour. Even though we ended up soggy, our spirits were high as we headed back toward Oregon and home. It was a day of camaraderie, exercise, and reflection, and I can't wait to go back--hopefully on a clear day when Mt. St. Helens can show me her beautiful face.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
We Are All Pampered Chefs!
Today I hosted a Pampered Chef party at my house to support my best friend, Lindsey, who has recently become a consultant. You can check out her website at http://www.pamperedchef.biz/lindseyfandrem. And if there is anything you would like to order, just let me know . . . my party will close in a couple of days to allow for outside orders. ;)
I really love having friends and family over for food and company, and today was no exception--with the added bonus of getting to try out really fun kitchen gadgets, dishes and cookware. I especially liked the garlic press which allows you to put in a whole, unpeeled clove of garlic, and out comes minced garlic right into whatever you are making. Then you just open it up and take out the garlic skin. As someone who has spent her share of time trying her best to peel garlic, this gadget is nothing short of a miracle.
Pampered Chef has changed quite a bit since the last time I had a party (which may very well have been right after I graduated from college and was living in Salem back in 1998), and I was impressed to see how much they have expanded. They now have stoneware baking ware (for pizzas as well as for cookies, muffins / cupcakes and bread), and really beautiful white serving dishes and platters. They even have their own line of knives, complete with butcher block!
Lindsey brought all the fixings to make veggie pizza, carrot cake cupcake bites and turtle brownie bites. So of course, I had to go off the diet! :) And it was fabulous.
My dad came along (somewhat reticently at first), but I think he surprised himself by how much he enjoyed learning about and having the chance to use the products as we put together the food. I had told him beforehand that I was pretty sure he would have a great time, since he is quite the cook in our family. He ended up ordering over $100 worth of merchandise, so I guess I was right. :) I even teased him about becoming a Pampered Chef consultant himself, as having his own cooking-related business would both keep him busy and entertained. Besides that, he just loves talking to anyone and everyone about something he is passionate about. And he is quite the salesman . . . I'm sure the ladies who generally host parties would just eat him up. He hasn't signed up yet, but I'll keep working on him.
My mom doesn't have many contacts in the area, but my aunt does, so we asked her if she would like to co-host a party. My mom and I will help her with it and in exchange for having it at her house, she can use the credits to order free Pampered Chef products. And Lindsey has already booked her first show off of a show. Not too bad. :)
Morgan and Josie came along to help Lindsey. Of course my mom had a great time holding Josie (babies just gravitate toward her) and Morgan and I spent a lot of time blowing and chasing bubbles in our front yard.
It was a great Sunday, spent with people I love, relaxing and eating. What could be better than that?
I really love having friends and family over for food and company, and today was no exception--with the added bonus of getting to try out really fun kitchen gadgets, dishes and cookware. I especially liked the garlic press which allows you to put in a whole, unpeeled clove of garlic, and out comes minced garlic right into whatever you are making. Then you just open it up and take out the garlic skin. As someone who has spent her share of time trying her best to peel garlic, this gadget is nothing short of a miracle.
Pampered Chef has changed quite a bit since the last time I had a party (which may very well have been right after I graduated from college and was living in Salem back in 1998), and I was impressed to see how much they have expanded. They now have stoneware baking ware (for pizzas as well as for cookies, muffins / cupcakes and bread), and really beautiful white serving dishes and platters. They even have their own line of knives, complete with butcher block!
Lindsey brought all the fixings to make veggie pizza, carrot cake cupcake bites and turtle brownie bites. So of course, I had to go off the diet! :) And it was fabulous.
My dad came along (somewhat reticently at first), but I think he surprised himself by how much he enjoyed learning about and having the chance to use the products as we put together the food. I had told him beforehand that I was pretty sure he would have a great time, since he is quite the cook in our family. He ended up ordering over $100 worth of merchandise, so I guess I was right. :) I even teased him about becoming a Pampered Chef consultant himself, as having his own cooking-related business would both keep him busy and entertained. Besides that, he just loves talking to anyone and everyone about something he is passionate about. And he is quite the salesman . . . I'm sure the ladies who generally host parties would just eat him up. He hasn't signed up yet, but I'll keep working on him.
My mom doesn't have many contacts in the area, but my aunt does, so we asked her if she would like to co-host a party. My mom and I will help her with it and in exchange for having it at her house, she can use the credits to order free Pampered Chef products. And Lindsey has already booked her first show off of a show. Not too bad. :)
Morgan and Josie came along to help Lindsey. Of course my mom had a great time holding Josie (babies just gravitate toward her) and Morgan and I spent a lot of time blowing and chasing bubbles in our front yard.
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| Lindsey and my dad prepare the pizza |
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| I really love the Pampered Chef glass measuring cups. They are so durable! |
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| The carrot cake and turtle brownie bites. Mmmm. |
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| Dad making his list and checking it twice. |
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| My mom and Josie |
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| Lindsey and Morgan frost the carrot cake bites. |
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| The finished pizza. |
It was a great Sunday, spent with people I love, relaxing and eating. What could be better than that?
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Today's Poem . . .
Jean
A woman's face
on the cover of a magazine,
puffy, shining moon.
It took my breath away,
pushed tears to my eyes:
she looked so much like you
that last time we met.
The sign outside the door of your room
was made by one of your sons.
It warned all in the house to be quiet,
that a massage was in session.
A grim smile crossed my lips.
How would I dare give you a "regular" massage,
you with your so-white skin, delicate as a child's,
you with more prescription bottles than I have ever seen
for one person at one time
cluttering the bathroom counter,
your name on the labels.
I placed my hands on you, gently, gently.
I watched the rise and fall of your chest as you slept.
The afternoon sun bathed us both in its golden light
but you were halfway gone,
halfway on to that other place
we all find alone.
Jean, you were not afraid
in that moment.
You accepted. You slept.
Inside, I know you were dancing.
--Amy Hoffman
A woman's face
on the cover of a magazine,
puffy, shining moon.
It took my breath away,
pushed tears to my eyes:
she looked so much like you
that last time we met.
The sign outside the door of your room
was made by one of your sons.
It warned all in the house to be quiet,
that a massage was in session.
A grim smile crossed my lips.
How would I dare give you a "regular" massage,
you with your so-white skin, delicate as a child's,
you with more prescription bottles than I have ever seen
for one person at one time
cluttering the bathroom counter,
your name on the labels.
I placed my hands on you, gently, gently.
I watched the rise and fall of your chest as you slept.
The afternoon sun bathed us both in its golden light
but you were halfway gone,
halfway on to that other place
we all find alone.
Jean, you were not afraid
in that moment.
You accepted. You slept.
Inside, I know you were dancing.
--Amy Hoffman
Friday, April 15, 2011
Poem
This Day
Today hell has finally frozen over.
Mephistopheles glides by, double-runnered, huffing,
a spark in his eye,
Today God is getting new frames,
has lost count, momentarily, of the angels and pins.
A sparrow falls, dusts himself off, spits, gets back up again.
Today is my lucky day. Heybobareebob.
I am plumb loco with luck, He Who Walks Backwards,
the one left alone on the wagon-train ambush,
tetched in the head, maize boy, too much in the sun,
the one who holds on to the overturned lifeboat,
who crawls like a worm from within the mass grave.
I am high man on the totem pole.
I walk from the plane wreck, stand up in the fusillade.
There is no bullet that bears my name.
I will never be taken alive.
Today it is for other men to be broken into boys,
for others to saw at their legs to survive.
I am Jack be nimble. The world can shut its trap.
My friends, my brothers are the heavy hearts.
The mark is on them.
They are scathed, fall chickens, good joes petered out.
No blood is daubed like unction on their chambered doors.
The man going through their rubbish outside
has brought them his sorrow, some vagrant plague.
They are the flies someone actually hurts.
Today the moon makes eyes at me.
Today I know the exact intensity that a woman brings
to the brushing to the left of the rivers of her hair.
When I hold her, the woman, the moon, I see in her eyes
the reflection, the waving arms of the dying and the drowned.
I make love to her anyway, lucky stiff, lucky bastard,
lucky as all get-out and hell.
--John Hodgen
Today hell has finally frozen over.
Mephistopheles glides by, double-runnered, huffing,
a spark in his eye,
Today God is getting new frames,
has lost count, momentarily, of the angels and pins.
A sparrow falls, dusts himself off, spits, gets back up again.
Today is my lucky day. Heybobareebob.
I am plumb loco with luck, He Who Walks Backwards,
the one left alone on the wagon-train ambush,
tetched in the head, maize boy, too much in the sun,
the one who holds on to the overturned lifeboat,
who crawls like a worm from within the mass grave.
I am high man on the totem pole.
I walk from the plane wreck, stand up in the fusillade.
There is no bullet that bears my name.
I will never be taken alive.
Today it is for other men to be broken into boys,
for others to saw at their legs to survive.
I am Jack be nimble. The world can shut its trap.
My friends, my brothers are the heavy hearts.
The mark is on them.
They are scathed, fall chickens, good joes petered out.
No blood is daubed like unction on their chambered doors.
The man going through their rubbish outside
has brought them his sorrow, some vagrant plague.
They are the flies someone actually hurts.
Today the moon makes eyes at me.
Today I know the exact intensity that a woman brings
to the brushing to the left of the rivers of her hair.
When I hold her, the woman, the moon, I see in her eyes
the reflection, the waving arms of the dying and the drowned.
I make love to her anyway, lucky stiff, lucky bastard,
lucky as all get-out and hell.
--John Hodgen
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