Well, actually, a few weekends.

( Last weekend, a visit to Tacoma, of all places.  )

And this weekend...

We grocery shopped, saw Madagascar 2 (cute and funny), and then came home. Through the day we've seen probably 10 rainbows (the photo sucks, it was so vivid), including one that took me outside to get a picture, causing the dogs to wonder what was so interesting out there.

Woke up often this night for some reason. Wide awake at 3am. I've learned it's better, at that time, to just get up and do something productive than to toss and turn. The result of the latter is wire-worn nerves when the time to rise comes. Otherwise, perhaps a desire to rest will come over me before I have to rise at 7am, and if not I'll start the day having had some time.

It's perfect time for one's self, when you are in a household where you are usually engaged with others, either human or canine.

Life is full of challenges right now. But isn't there a whole lot of cliche's about how that's where the good stuff really lies, either inside of or just past challenges?

I am thankful for my friends, and my parents, who have accepted me as I open up and share, and replied with their own troubles, their views of my troubles, and their unwavering support of me.

Thank you.

Scot and I went to Victoria BC with family/friends for our anniversary. Married in 1992 so, doing the math, that means... 16 years married and 19 together. Wow... doesn't seem that long, which is a good sign. Pictures on Flickr.

The city is lovely with its history, its waterfront location, and the delightful mix of locals and tourists mingling together. Canadian media is much more palatable to me, with a little more focus on facts and information and less rabid sensationalizing. I mean for god's sake, there are disembodied FEET washing up on shore -- four so far -- and the paper isn't screaming about a possible psychopath, they simply state the information they have and note at this point does not point to foul play.

Okay...

But seriously, people were lovely, courteous... and everything is more expensive and we weren't having much luck with finding good meals; way too many places were overpriced and underwhelming with the results. But we walked for miles, got some sun, and saw a lot of interesting things. I rarely feel I've taken "enough" pictures upon my return, but I am more interested in being in the moment than capturing that moment for later reflection. We bought little, but did bring back two six packs of cider and a cooking apron with a cartoon beaver on it that says, "Dam Good Cook." I'll have to get a picture of the man of the house wearing it sometime.

We spent two days in B Loop at Cape Lookout State Park. Two beautiful nights of endless sounds of surf. We avoided 90-100 degree temps in the valley. On the coast it was 90 degrees on the coast, even, but oddly enough Cape Lookout was only around 78 -- north and south of that it was hotter. Odd.

Life doesn't seem so bad when you're sitting on a dune with your dogs and your love watching the sun set behind a roaring surf.

It wasn't the best of times, however; the truck was in the shop (that was our stimulating contribution to the economy) and wasn't back to us by Friday. So... we packed up the Beetle with our camping great (minus a few things that weren't absolutely necessary) and... two dogs.

I will NEVER do THAT again.

Last weekend, it was 85 degrees and we took a nap in the hammocks. This weekend... my dog is collecting hail. I love sitting at my desk and looking out into the backyard. But not so much today. It hailed thick for about 15 minutes, leaving about an inch of ice on the ground. The sun has since come out, and it's all melted, for the most part, just half an hour later.

"This isn't normal." For the three years here in Oregon, I have heard this for perhaps 3/4 of the year. So... what I am to understand is that there IS no normal here, right? Ah, okay, now that we've gotten THAT straight...

This morning I did a short volunteer stint w/ the Salem Film Festival. Saw Shadow of the House, a work by Allie Humenuk, a documentary about the work (and neuroses and complex history with Cuba) of Abelardo Morell. It was a great work; I love creative pieces about creatives. So many layers to be interested in. And perhaps the best part of film festivals... the filmmakers are present for Q&A afterward. I have two free tickets I need to spend tomorrow as well. But the piece, both in its creation and its content, was uplifting, inspiring and just beautiful.

Yeah Salem.

Met some nice people while volunteering, to boot. And therein lies a key element of what is not right about my presence here. I haven't done enough of this, this type of getting out into the community and supporting the things I want to see here. So finding a non-animal related volunteer commitment is now moving to the top of my personal to do list.

Frankly, sitting at home and listening to NPR or watching TV news about the world going to hell is greatly contributing to my fear and anxiety about the future. If I get away from that and into something much more rich and nourishing, I don't think it will be as much of a problem.

My shift was only 9a-12:15p, so we had the afternoon free. Scot's attempt to slow roast a brisket didn't fare well, so into the crock pot with the remains of a bottle of Sweet Baby Rays, some leftover Fighting Cock (a hotter BBQ sauce) and a few other odds and ends did their work and broke down the cut to a fantastic BBQ beef. Great recovery.

We meandered over to Independence (it's 15 minutes away, but the new movie theater there is comfy, a bit cheaper, and has better projection than the one that's just down the road... and better popcorn) to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Well worth matinee price. It was an excellent balance of cute, comedy and raunch.

Before heading home, we sought out Running with Scissors, a scrapbook/cardmaking/papercraft store that has sprung up on C Street. OMG. It's adorable. Very well organized, excellent space to browse, and a fantastic selection of high end scrapbook supplies, with plenty of things for cardmakers. Nothing much for bookbinders or those into handmade paper, but it's really an excellent store. Classes, a nice open space for crops, and friendly staff. Can't beat it.

Good things.

Magazines. Magazines are my problem. Or, more to the point, buying them and not reading them. Then hoarding them, fearing that if I get rid of one, that project to make a light out of styrofoam peanuts that was in that one issue of Ready Made might just be the end of me if I don't have it.

Last night I was ever-so-slowly working my way through a teetering stack of magazines. (Two down, 23 to go! Woo hoo!) I polished off Found pretty quickly, as it was not a favorite; the topic was crime and there's only so many mug shots you can find amusing, or sob stories about how someone knows they are a dumb ass for doing what they did and ending up in jail. But it brings up a topic I've often considered interesting, perhaps even enticing: correspondence with the incarcerated. Not so much because of a fascination with the bad boys, but the pure emotional turmoil that such facilities must generate. What could we learn from the human condition from those on the inside, without having to go to such realities ourselves? (And did someone slip some drugs into my drink? How did I get here?)

There are two stereotypes that stick in my mind: an uneducated redneck female who thinks men in jail are just misunderstood opportunity waiting to happen. Perhaps she likes the bad boys, perhaps she has Daddy issues, or perhaps she has a savior complex and an ex-con would fit the bill nicely. Then I think of the candy-cane-sweet Christian suburbanite who thinks bestowing her benevolence on the interred is a good way to prove her piousness and secure a slot in heaven.

I'm sure neither of those are true or fair, but as we all know I can be cynical. Just sometimes.

Anyone out there ever done the jail house penpal thing? Why? Anyone want to do it? I'd be curious to learn about others experiences, because it seems to stick in my head as a great topic to write on. I just might do that... so if you HAVEN'T done it and want to OR have done it and would be willing to share your thoughts and experience with me, let me know.

Next was Giant Robot, a magazine I cannot say no to, despite the fact that I am NOT the target demographic: 20 something Asian Americans. Perhaps it's the latent desire to be a Japanese school girl (if reincarnation is real, THAT'S the card I want to draw next time) or the unavoidable attraction to all things kawaii.

Today is a perfect Oregon winter day. It began overcast, then cleared up to stunningly bright sunshine which caused the dogs to squint, and then sitting at my desk I hear little sounds; I look out to see the sun still shining brightly but little chips of ice falling from the sky. Now, five minutes later, it's overcast again.

WTF? I think I'll go see Lars and the Real Girl today at Salem Cinema.

God, I love that podcast. I'd heard it on NPR, but thanks to them opening the podcast up for free this past year, I've been able to enjoy each and every one. "Home Alone" is killing me. If you ever listen, please support it. A dollar. Two. Maybe ten. Or spend big. Just do it.

Breaking away from the tv, a habit I've slumped into as the days got shorter and this left me more unmotivated to do much when I got home. Small simple lists for each night. Tonight was posting some items on eBay. Listen to TAL. Work on cleaning out my desk. Write thank you cards. Fun stuff.

And now, to test my skills with... soldering. I want to create a unique attachment on a piece I made recently, and I think soldering a jump ring onto the mid-back might do it. As I've never done this before, I'm going to play around on some scrap before I try it for real.

Last night was a wonderful continuation of the holiday season; we dined with friends at home, whipping up a traditional French fondue followed by a dark chocolate fondue w/ notes of coffee and Baileys. YUM.

Somehow we ended up on a run of documentaries; we've found a number of them really great NetFlix picks. I highly recommend "F*ck", a very amusing, entertaining and yes, educational look at language and culture. The panelists they flip between are awesome, from Ron Jeremy to Miss Manners.

I have so many things I want to blog about right now, but so little time to do it. How's that work!?

A gem I wanted to share was a visit to Vegetarian House in downtown PDX while Pat and Jon were here. We'd poked around Powell's, hopped the streetcar around the free zone, oogled property we could never afford, and poked around in Sur la Table. Despite drooling over many amazing kitchen gadgets we did not need, we only purchasing a set of Oxo canisters to replace the Rubbermaid set as I'd set the flour on a hot stove burner. It was time to eat. We ambled a few blocks down to Chinatown. It's amusing how just blocks away from multi-million dollar condos in the Pearl is this hellhole of an area--and to think, it used to be worse. On the corner is the shuttered Cindy's Adult Bookstore, a ratty looking shit-hole. Behind is a string of three restaurants. Sandwiched between two Asian joints with rather unappetizing smoked whole ducks hanging in the windows lies Vegetarian House. Oh, the irony.

We'd found the place thanks to a quick search for a veggie place downtown. Inside was neat as a pin, very modest and simple decoration. The service was brisk and efficient, and as Pat pointed out, the reverent nature of the setting was very relaxing and peaceful. The dishes were great; for a light lunch we shared hot and sour soup, and the "medium" bowl was enough for four of us to each have two small bowls. Faux crab rangoons were creamy and delicious, and the snow peas and water chestnuts stir fried with garlic was yummy. A wonderful light lunch. The tables beside us had fantastic looking, ample sized dishes. While there are plenty of veggies on the menu, a feature is the faux meats -- and they are pretty amazing. Some are sold in a freezer case they also sell items to go. We picked up some faux shrimp to try at home.

One amusing element is the presence of material promoting Supreme Master Ching Hai. From the flat screen hanging on the back wall that shows odd (if not peaceful) footage from Supreme Master Television (which on this day was showing a very amusing show of people loving and frolicking with their pet parrots) to the poster in the front window that looks like a dial-a-psychic line promo... it's just a quirky little addition making it all the more fun of an experience. Yum!

Then we hit Powell's Tech Books on the way back. OMG I could have stayed there for days and spent a month's paycheck.

Time flew, so we must have been having fun, right? We had a wonderful time with friends visiting; of course we tried to convince them they had to move, but... that's a lot to ask. On the one hand it felt like we ran around, but as also spent a fair amount of time just chilling. We shared the coast, the dreary winter weather, the city, and a lot in between. I think my favorite was the day at the beach; the beauty, the energy, the fun... Winston had traveled with us the day before, and when we left him at home later that afternoon, he watched us leave with a most pitiful look on his face, so Pat insisted we travel with him the next day, so he joined us at the coast and had a blast, as always.



After reading, planning and getting all the goodies necessary, I finally fiddled with the Art Clay Silver, and it's definitely something I plan to continue playing with! It's a tricky medium, but the results are fairly immediate and stunning, so I'm jazzed to be playing with it. The photos don't do the pieces justice, but that's something I'll have to work on, too.


The update on the weight loss is postponed; I slipped back into old habits this weekend, partly due to convenience but also as a bit of an experiment in and of itself. It was a good reminder of the many rewards that avoiding those habits brings. I'm turning my focus back now. Scot's down four pounds, though, so someone in this house is a big loser!

Relaxing in front of a wonderful fire built by my stunning husband. Life is good.

There's a new Foamy cartoon out.

At work they offered a Weight Watcher's group, and I joined. I went to the intro meeting, then the first official meeting... then of course I skipped the next two, one because I was out ill that day and the other as I simply couldn't drag myself away from my desk. This week I was back on the wagon, and scored -4 lb on the weigh in.

Recent reflections by Scot and I have had interesting results. We've discovered a lot of good things and found that we both feel more... satisfied. Fulfilled. And it had nothing to do with food, or belongings, or purchases. It's a feeling that I cling to, fearing it might dissolve.

We are approaching our 15th anniversary, which marks 18 years together. That's quite stunning... I'm only 35!


Scot has spent a lot of time and effort in the back yard, and it is looking fantastic. A wonderful retreat. Nothing is more beautiful than Oregon in the spring.

And the big news... Scot is now an official Oregonian. He passed the test and got his license. Horray!

Today is the picture of a PNW day. Cold. Grey. Rainy.

Top that off with something bothering me--my hands. Other parts of me, too, oddly enough. But my hands are most noticable. On Wednesday, they were sore in the morning. By mid day they felt tight as if swollen, the joints very sore and in general painful. It was worse Thursday, and I took the day off. Despite not typing, it was about the same Friday, and thankfully has lessened a bit. I have no idea what or why -- I've been trying to research but nothing seems to really ring true or stick. CTS? Thyroid problem? Simple hormonal cycles? I don't know. A handful of Aleve does wonders. But it has me worried.

No point in going to the doctor at this point -- I don't have enough information to make any sense of it, so all they're going to do is not make sense of it, either.

Bummer.

Hormonal trends are corresponding with this weather and its brutal. Just not a happy camper, in contrast to last week. But clouds move on, I know that for a fact.

Oregon's fickle climate makes for frequent displays of a beauty that occurs so much it's taken for granted. Walking our mile circuit through the neighborhood tonight with Winston, the clouds mixed with the sun round and round. A fine mist of rain began to come down, and the result was a vibrant double rainbow. Unlike faint glowings often seen only once in a blue moon in the Midwest, the vibrant bands of color were so bright that when you looked away the negative image was imprinted on all you gazed upon. The sidewalk was littered with large puffs of pink and white flowers from trees along the roard.

Lovely.

Monday an old love was rediscovered. Back in high school I played tenor sax, and gave it up for some silly melodramatic reason involving the band director that still makes no sense to me. Often, I've considered picking it back up. My thoughts never went very far until recently. My friend, Aron, as been an interesting catalyst in relation to my creativity, and helped to nudge me toward revisiting the idea again.

Another odd development, who knows how its related in the universe, is that the band director in question recently passed away unexpectedly. Oh my, what would Freud say?

So I spent some time on the net researching. Then I looked for new and used saxes and even called up the local music store to look into rental agreements. Finally I decided to drop by and just take a test drive. My intent was to simply dip my toe in the pool.

I got giddy when the gentleman handed me the sax across the counter. Suddenly, 18 years didn't seen to mean much. The taste of the reed, the weight of the instrument, the endless fiddling with the neck to get JUST the right position... it all felt so familiar.

The first sound produced when in the practice room was cut short as I laughed maniacally. The response was... well, incredibly intense, we'll leave it at that. Fingering and scales were immediately recalled from the files in my head marched "Archived." While the finesse certainly must be re-won, the truth is it did feel like riding a bicycle, it was like I'd only take a brief break, not been away from it for more than half my life.

The gentleman poked his head in -- so much for privacy. He asked how long it had been since I played and when I told him, he raised an eyebrow and complemented me on the tone I'd coaxed out of it.

I walked out with a new instrument.

It seems that I have found my people. Continuing a coming-into-focus of life that seems fueled by two years of trying, praying, and the regenerative nature of spring's energy...

Friends came to visit Saturday and stayed the night. We loved dogs, shared, cooked together, laughed together, soaked our weary bones and snuggled--best wishes out into the universe for a successful interview today in San Francisco! The house--normally a very warm and vibrant place, but markedly less so in Scot's absence, was filled with a warm and positive energy that still clings to the walls like a fog.

Amidst these swells, my days have been productive, the energy is fueling my creativity and abilities, and deepening the yearning I have for Scot, for I long to share it all with him in a more immersive manner than via long late night phone calls.

Some may be content to live in a vacuum with just themselves, or themselves and a partner. While I of course feel I could do this, my natural state of bliss is to be surrounded by a web of connections, with myself and my beloved husband forming the radioactive nucleus of the known universe. The connections I've maintained with friends since moving have kept me alive, but the immediate vicinity until a few weeks ago remained a rather bleak landscape. Small dots on the radar, but many of those have coalesced into something bigger as of late.

Saturday evening friends called and invited me--and Winston--to Easter dinner the following day. My kind of dinner. Over delicious lamb Val stands up, says, "Speaking of sacrilege, what's this?" and spreads her arms out wide as if she's hanging on the cross. "What?" I say, an idea of what's to come. "A crappy way to spend Easter!"

The dinner conversation ranged from politics to cooking (mayo on asparagus is amazingly good, btw), to the size of women's asses and disdain for cultural stereotypes to genital piercing and the neurological ramifications of clit piercings. (I think that THUD heard around the world was my mother falling out of her chair; no, dear, neither of us have anything on us that would present a concern for airport security and their metal detectors. But they fascinate me.)

Today I've been knocking items off of the work to do list, creating some others that need to be added to the list. It dawned on me as I lie half-awake that a relaxing, meditative experience is in order to assist in processing and locking down this state. I want to push the energy right into my very bones. So I've scheduled a massage for the afternoon, and look forward to returning home to continue working.

And look at these words; they are flowing like the origins of a river. A few weeks ago, I couldn't have written anything -- and I tried, believe me I tried.

Which, of course, is all just a reminder that in a bit, this euphoria will fade, and the cycle will shift. But only for a bit, and if I know anything it's that the up in my rotation is much longer than the dip, and that handling life accordingly to accommodate both states is the answer.

Today was a good day.

Productive work. A beautiful walk to Willamette's union under cloudless skies for a yummy lunch wrap, an invite from some fellow coworkers I've always wanted to get to know better. A little reminder of the pros, and cons, of the world of academia. A glorious 75 degree spring day.

While I stayed at work until 6:30, the sky held much sun to be enjoyed in the backyard with the dogs. Some treats, some fetch, and a relaxing task of watering the plants helped me transition.

Then I returned a friend's call and had a long conversation about creativity which helped to remind me of some things I already know, and helped me to tap into the energy I too often stiffle with structure and rules.

Grabbing Winston, we set out for a long walk. As we wrapped up by walking down 21st Street, past the cute bungalows that I covet (which all seem to be priced from 250-300k... it's crazy), the sights and sounds of an early Friday evening were richly encompassing. Friends sitting on porches chatting. Smells coming from kitchens. Flowers blooming everywhere, and trees wearing tender young folliage in vibrant colors. Hobbies being pursued in garages, everything from guitar riffs to the sounds of power tools. Many homes have a seating area that looks out onto the lawn from the home, and many were filled with two or more people relaxing and chatting.

I overflowed with the feeilng that life is good.

But I admit, as I looked upon the porches and the groups standing in yards and said to myself, "I wish I knew enough people in the area to socialize on the fly."

Turning onto Market I noticed the stark contrast that is the neighborhood on the other side of the road. As I turned the corner back onto 23rd, I once again appreciated the wide street and our mainly well groomed and well behaved neighbors. I was in the home stretch. I saw a gentleman walk down the drive of the house on the corner, a drink in his hand. He walked right up to me and said, "Hello."

I swear it was like he had come out the front door simply to find me. Thank you, universe.

We stood there and talked for over an hour. He, a professional that works in Hillsboro, and his partner of what sounds like many years, have been there for some time, and know most everyone in the neighborhood who deems to be social. Initially he invited me to their 4th of July gathering, but by the time we parted he was insisting I bring Scot down when he returns so that they can cook us dinner. We talked non stop for an hour, a very well balanced back and forth, easy direct eye contact, lots of questions and, "Oh yeah, us too!" He gave me a primer on the neighborhood characters. His partner came out with what looked like a bag of strawberries to say he was running down the street to a neighbor's house to visit and drop them off. This gave me an opportunity to meet him, too.

I'm so happy I could burst. The other day Scot pointed out how the fibers of the web are becoming more dense. More connections, more friends, all adding to a greater sense of belonging, of having a sense of that comforting community. Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

Okay, I'm going to get a little personal here as a matter of public service.

After speaking with a friend who has endured enough laser hair removal to represent the cost of a new Mercedes, I was emboldened to seriously consider it. There's just one area on my face that, since puberty, I have loathed and hated. Of course, my dear husband says he loves me, including that, and when I broke down and tearfully admitted that I just HAD to do this, his show of acceptance was to pounce on me and wrestle with me to touch it, just to prove he loved it, too.

Men. *sigh*

So I ended up at Premier Laser in Portland today. They had a very economical spring special: 5 chin treatments for $299. Ten minutes filling out paperwork, and about two minutes in the treatment room and I was done, scheduled to come back in four weeks and do it again. It's possible it will all be gone after 3 treatments, as the laser targets the hairs, burns the folicles eventually killing them so new hair does not grow.

All the sites with their FAQs and before and after pictures talk about a sting, a rubber band snap or possibly even painless treatments with the new lasers that are out... um, I beg to differ. Yes, the first shot was okay. The second was a bit worse. The third and fourth ramped up and by the sixth exposure I'm gripping the arms of the chair and by the end, I was saying, "Damn!" with each and every one. The chin area takes about 15-20 pops, all told. I can't imagine having this done all over the legs, or, heaven forbid, anywhere delicate (and if it has hair, they'll take it off... OUCH!).

And the smell of burning hair... yuck. But welcomed.

Afterward, it feels like a sunburn. An application of aloe and five minutes later, you wouldn't even know anything had been done. And the tech was smart enough to not slow down, she just barrels right through it.

So while it wasn't as docile as I was led to expect... if it works it was well worth it, and I'd do it ten times if I had to.

Took a quick jaunt to Eugene today, on the first day of my three day weekend. Walked wistfully through downtown, soaking up the vibe of a college town.

There was no love to be found at Footwise, for the object of my desire, shown here, was not in stock. The bordeaux is a beautiful color. While the Golden Brown Gizeh called, I took the outage as a sign. Poked through antique shops, import stores, and picked up a few books at a nice used/off run bookstore, J Michaels Books. Reminisced about the Book Cellar, with all the secrets it held.

Took a sharp turn into reflection. It was, all in all, a very centering afternoon. Moments of clarify have popped into my head at the oddest moments as of late.

Links:
Photo expose on unique hotels for passionate purposes
http://www.pdnbgallery.com/artists/keasler/lovehotels/. I'm particularly fond of the Hello Kitty S&M room. (Go ahead, look, I'm not kidding!) but the Japanese S&M room sets the mood a little more appropriately.

Take a peek at just some of the many talents of my new friend Aron Bradley. He showed me how it is done at Live Band Karaoke at Lefty's Wednesday night!
http://www.mixposure.com/aron-david-bradley

Saturday we picked my mother-in-law up at the airport, and headed straight for Port Orchard where my brother-in-law docks his sailboat. She'd never seen the boat before, so we hung out for a bit on board, then headed to Bremerton to take the ferry over to Seattle for dinner. The car ride up to Port Orchard was a nice chance for the three of us to catch up, and the rest was a nice chance for the five us of to catch up.

We walked down to checkout just how under construction the aquarium was -- and it seems to be moreso than ever, which put the brakes on our plans for the next day. We then walked up up and up steps on two separate blocks to crest as Ipanema Grill. Scot had enjoyed a Brazillian steakhouse in the Keys, and was hell bent on sharing the ultimate in meat gluttony with the rest of us.

More on that later. This spring, I think I'll take a train north, stay in downtown Seattle, and museum hop for a few days, taking my own sweet time doing whatever I please, for as long as it pleases me. Part of me wants to live the high life in a downtown hotel like W, part of me wants to couch surf. (No wonder I have difficulty making choices.)

Sunday we headed north, poking around here and there, spending a spot of time in Poulsbo--where we will be crewing with the bro-in-law for Latitudes and Attitude's NW Sail-In this summer. Then up to Port Townsend, a cute little town I could spend a weekend in browsing galleries and looking at glorious old buildings.

Today we meandered towards home. Walked around downtown Gig Harbor. Stopped at the Zoo and Aquarium at Defiance Point -- no one, meaning very few children, was there. Mental note: do zoo's off season on Monday.

Then back to Troutdale, then back home to Salem, and before we exited Portland proper, we were being pelted with wads of slush. Turns out at elevations above 500 ft, it actually stuck, and some areas have accumulation.

The weather never stayed consistent; seems every hour or two it changed. Rained. Mist. Glorious sun. Sleet. Cloudy. Sun. Shaken and stirred.

Not-so-bright but very early this morning we met new friends for breakfast. They suggested the Off Center Cafe, and as I pondered the address, 17th and Center, I'm thinking, "WTF?" A quick Google had revealed some interesting details. As this new friend makes his living cooking, I figured he could be truested.

Pulling into the parking lot behind the dry cleaners, the only thing visible was a dated sign, "Coffee". One peek in the window made it clear this was the place. There's a very faded poster behind the counter of a man holding a brick of "something" to his face. It says, "Smells like gold! Let's smoke it..."

How could you NOT like the place? =-)

I'd checked the county health department web site for a recent score -- it doesn't have one, and that's probably a good thing. The grungefolk (the cool freaky kind, a mix of hippy/goth/whatever) manning the place were friendly, the decor was eclectic, and the place was clean... if you didn't look into corners and crannies.

Didn't much care, however, after the Bibble and Squibb came out -- a scramble of eggs, mushrooms, ham, cheese and curry, paired with a grill toasted orange nut bread with a side of heavenly raspberry jam. I ate and ate and ate, but after finishing only half, fullness was achieved.

Not your usual fare, and we'll definitely go again (and again, and...)

In a season that many said was warmer than usual, Indy has been encased in ice and covered in snow... on one of the only days that really mattered! ursulas_mom was not able to fly out, so our little reunion is postponed for a later month.

CRAP.

You know you miss your friends when you move, but you don't really realize how much until you think you're going to get to see them and then something happens. At least I made it off the phone before I cried. :-)

I'd taken the day off, which meant a whole day to do nothing. Once again affirming that weather here in the PNW is a roll of the dice, it started out misting, then turned into a beautifully vibrant day with warm sun, deep blue skies. Of course by evening it clouded over and rained again.

We enjoyed it by doing not a whole lot; went out for breakfast, took the dog for a walk, did some planting and primping of herbs, talked about how to now spend a lovely empty four day weekend, and of course soaked our bones in the tub for a bit.

Bummer.

The highlight of the day, then, was redeeming a free iTunes credit from a box of Lucky Charms we bought at Big Lots and discovering it actually was a credit for six free songs. Score. (Yes, I like to brave the isles at Big Lots now and then. Gives me more money to spend on crack. *JUST KIDDING* About the crack part, anyway.)