Just one girl trying to not to drop anything too important...

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Saturday is Champagne Day

Jay was an amazing husband today and whisked the girls off from right after breakfast until naptime. He tired them out with a trip to the park, then Costco and lunch at "the Hot Dog Lady's." This allowed me to get a good eight hours of work in, and when I was done at about 4:45, it was time to party. We had a chilled bottle of bubbly ready to celebrate the completion of the hard wood floor upstairs in the outbuilding - I should take a picture and update later. We were also, and perhaps more importantly, commemorating the 6th anniversary of the day we met. Awwww.

Champagne is better than the average glass of wine or bottle of beer because it's not the kind of thing where you pour a glass for yourself and one for your loved one and then go sit in front of your respective computer monitors surfing the internet. Nope, champagne promotes conversation - and happy conversation at that. And so, I propose to make ALL Saturdays champagne days (or at least "beverage made in the method of champagne even if it's not from France day" - because this stuff and this stuff that we got last week at Argyle is really, really, really wonderful).

Friday, June 27, 2008

Caesar



Introducing our new scrap metal Guard Rooster, Caesar. He now watches over the roost, and woe to all who dare to tussle with his steely sharp comb. I am teaching the girls that every time we pull into the driveway and get out of the car that they must say, "Hail, Caesar!" I realize that hearing that particular welcome will eventually grate on my nerves, at which point Caesar will have to be relocated, but for now, it's working for me.

We acquired Caesar at Found Objects in McMinville, having seen him tethered to the leg of a rusty arbor on the sidewalk Sunday night after our winery tour. Oddly, Jay and I were both drawn to him and agreed that we were willing to plunk down the exorbitant price on his little cardboard tag. (I'm sure the wine played no part in our decision.) We stuck around town until the store opened the next day and threw him in the back of the Vibe for the trip north. I expect that the rooster next door has checked him out and has started spending his days in the chicken house quivering, having realized that he is no match for Rooster of Steel.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Bottle #1 - 2007 Panther Creek Chardonnay




Last weekend, Jay and I took advantage of a rare opportunity to escape for more than one full turn of the earth and left the girls at the house with my parents. We drove the hour+ south to Yamhill County, Oregon - aka Pinot Noir Heaven. We got to eight wineries is somewhat under five hours on Sunday, which was "hard work" indeed. We were mostly looking for light wines that we can enjoy throughout the summer - whites, if we could find ones we liked, and maybe a couple of pinots. We got a dozen fine bottles... and a scrap metal rooster, but that's another post.

Monday evening, we enjoyed bottle #1 on the porch -



Panther Creek 2007 Willamette Valley Chardonnay. They are not selling this on their website, possibly because it was only bottled last month or possibly because Panther Creek is pretty much all about the pinot noir, but here is a link to the tasting notes. We are not big chardonnay folks, but we totally liked that it is an "unoaked" chardonnay, so it's really crisp and fruity and doesn't have the kind of heavy oaky thing going on that turns me off chardonnay. The tasting notes mention a "mineral" finish - and it really is evident (although it's the first time I've ever attached the word "mineral" to anything that I've ingested and meant it as a positive...) We got an extra bottle for my mom, and we could very well be trying to buy a case of this for drinking all the time in the nice weather.

This was the last winery we visited - It's located in an old power building in downtown McMinville - and it was the only place where we just chilled out and had a full glass of wine - just the two of us - and two chilled glasses of wine. How novel.


Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Egg and I

This book is so funny, I don't want it to end. I picked it up at Powell's at PDX before my trip to Jersey earlier in the month, and I have been parsimoniously allowing myself a chapter or two whenever I have the chance. It was written in the forties (although you'd never know it, it's so freakin' witty - it makes me laugh out loud and read passages to Jay when he's trying to sleep). The author is a woman (Betty MacDonald) who married a guy who wanted to be a chicken farmer in a remote part of Washington State, and she tells about her life, surroundings, neighbors, etc. once they move to the country and start farming.

Did I mention how funny it is? Because I realize that when I say, "It's a book written by a chicken farmer's wife from the 1940's" it may not sound that appealing. But really - find it and give it a try.

Elinor is Totally Two



Last Friday as summer arrived on the Prairie, our Solstice Child turned two. The day was sunny, the presents were happily modest, and the celebration was quiet and included cupcakes and a trip to the zoo that wasn't.

We had planned to go to the Oregon Zoo and have a nice lunch with my parents. However, when it was time to leave, my mother could not find her wallet. We were pretty sure that it had been on the kitchen counter, but there were just enough blanks in my mother's memory from the night before to leave just a whisper of doubt - and frantic searching and re-searching and re-re-searching and talk of calling credit card companies. Eventually, I left for the zoo with the kids, altering the itinerary and planning to meet Jay at work so I wouldn't be outnumbered at the zoo. He was prepared to go at 11, and we pulled in right on time - as my cell phone rang and he told me from inside the building that he had to get on a conference call right then. In the meantime, my parents found the lost wallet hidden in a cabinet in the toy kitchen (hmmmm), and hopped in the car to try to meet us at the zoo. (With only minimal coaching, Maggie came up with the idea that she should apologize to her Grandma Sue at the earliest convenient time.) So, that left me and the girls sitting in the parking lot of Jay's work (see photos) waiting for him to get off a call that he estimated would take 20 minutes. Almost an hour later, we were still waiting, as I rerouted my parents from the zoo to Jay's office so we'd at least all be in the same location.




By the time they arrived and Jay got off his call, it was noon. I had planned on being at the zoo by 10 and meeting Jay for lunch afterward. Somehow, the skill that it takes to get my family anywhere at a particular time for a specific purpose is beyond my grasp. Good thing I did not choose "General" as my chosen career. "Where are your troops, General?" "Ummm, I think some of them are in the bathroom, and some others are looking for their ammunition, Sir." So... Instead of the zoo, we just went to lunch at Laurelwood. Lunch: DONE.




But, once the idea of the zoo is planted in the head of a three and a half-year old, it is not easily pulled out and tossed aside. So, after lunch, my parents went shopping for birthday presents, Jay took Birthday Girl home for a nap, and Mags and I went to the Zoo, along with her rolling penguin bag. We got there at about 3:00 in the afternoon. Luckily, she was agreeable and named the three things she wanted to see: polar bears, fish and giraffes. Also had an unexpected nose-to-nose with an ocelot. Trip to Zoo: DONE.




That night my friend Jen and her son came over for cupcakes, and Steve came over with his young'uns the next afternoon to decorate and devour the cupcakes that remained. Said cupcakes, although made with mix from a box, earned me Good Mommy points (in my own mind) for creativity and for linking to a classic kids' book instead of a television show. Cupcakes: DONE.







And now, I have a two-year old. I'd describe her like this: Likes to run with purpose. Hugs without a second thought. Spouts new words every day. Gives sloppy kisses and laughs from the belly. Devours broccoli. Not at all afraid to jog down the driveway toward points unknown with nary a glance back. Loves her sister so much that her first word every day is "Maggie." Learning to defend her turf by saying, "MINE!" Mags likes to call her "Sweet Ellie," and she's right.

A Week of Normalcy?

My parents left about 20 minutes ago, and now it's nose to the grindstone until next week when we go to Canada. We have changed our plans to keep out of the way of the fine Canadians who must be trying to solve the whole floating foot fiasco up in Campbell River. We'll stay a little further south and in slightly more populated places. We are wimps.

We have been busy in the last week, and I'm going to try to get caught up here... Stay tuned.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Yes, this is where we're going for vacation in July

Just went online to see if I could find information about the giant moon optical illusion that will occur tonight, and I found this instead. We are going to Canada to keep Maggie away from the American fireworks she dreads over the Independence Day holiday.

"No Mags, no worries about fireworks, but hold on to your feet for dear life." Very Twin Peaks.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Ainsley



I love this little dog! Liz and Val's little Ainsley is such a cuddly flirt that even Jay has admitted he wouldn't mind having something similar around (since I am often neither cuddly nor flirtatious), although he expressed discomfort with how he would be perceived by the street's manfolk should he be spotted promenading her up and down the road. I would just be afraid of coyotes, over-enthusiastic birds of prey who might mistake her for a large tufted field mouse, the neighbor's cat, large bugs...

Monday, June 16, 2008

Father's Day









Sunday had been set aside for outbuilding floor installation, so we celebrated Father's Day on Saturday at Marshall Community Park (or as Mags calls it, "the park with the wood chips") in Vancouver. (On the last picture, be sure to follow Ellie's gaze over to the double slide...)

I sure am glad he's my kids' dad...(even if he doesn't always do things just like I would). And here's part of how I know he's a good dad - feedback from Mags:

"Mom, I want you to make my oatmeal like Papa does. He makes good oatmeal!"

"Mama, that's just the same as Papa hugs me when he puts me to bed!"

"Mama, I want you to sing me the song that Papa sings..."

Traffic - or Why Jersey Sucks #2


This is the last bit of Jersey commentary (for now). Check this out - I had been cruising merrily down Route 23 at oh, about 7:45. Moving at about 50 mph. Went around a bend right near Jefferson/West Milford, and BAM.

Welcome to Jersey. Enjoy the scenery - and the whoomp whoomp whoomp from the car stopped next to you. Oh, look how adorable the driver looks bobbing his head to the beat. How nice of him to share. Just want to hop out of the car and give him a little hug to say thanks.

Ticks - or Why Jersey Sucks (Literally) #1




See these lush green woods? Don't you just want to go hiking on this lovely June day?

NO! You do not! Unless you want to play host to these little spawns of Satan... and I'm not even talkin' about the Lyme-disease-ridden deer ticks. These are just giant blood-sucking parasites that turn an afternoon in the outdoors into a bad horror movie.



All during my trip to Jersey, I kept noticing how beautiful and green and summery everything looked - I hadn't been on the east coast in the nice weather for years... But even as I looked, a little red flag went up in my head saying, "You know what's out there..." Then, I went to Liz's house, and the first thing she said was, "Wait 'til you see what I plucked off my head this morning..." and I knew exactly where the conversation was heading.

Which reminds me of when I first came to the west coast and was working with a client and staying at the Embassy Suites in Beaverton. The night I arrived, while showering, I found a tick lodged in my back. I was alone, freaking out and forced to use my best MacGuyver skills to save myself. If it had been stuck in my arm, I probably would have just gnawed the whole appendage off - there was that kind of adrenaline flowing. I knew that Vaseline could be used to smother the tick and then you're supposed to be able to pick him off when he comes up for air. But, I had no Vaseline, so that night I found out that a combination of toothpaste and sheer terror will actually kill a tick. The next day, I went to the doctor with (minty-fresh) dead tick in hand. I was told not to worry because really, there wasn't a problem with Lyme disease in the Pacific Northwest. Then, I told them that I was from New Jersey and that this tick was a little bit of unauthorized carry-on luggage. Next thing I know, every staff member from the entire clinic had converged in my exam room to steal a look. Alas, no long-term effects, but yeah, Jersey ticks. Good times.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Hometown - or Why Jersey Rocks #2

Here is my hometown: Newton, New Jersey. Sorry the audio is some overly-serious and self-important guy responding to a deeply probing question posed by Terry Gross. Focus instead on the blue sky and same-old, same-old of Spring Street. It really never changes, which is comforting.



Continuing on the NPR front, Newton was also featured just last week while I was there, on Michael Feldman's "Whad'Ya Know?" as the town of the week. Fascinating.

Here's the transcript from the end of the second hour of the show. Doesn't it sound lovely? It actually is.

:50 - Town of the Week, Newton, New Jersey.This town lies upon the slope of a gentle hill of slate and limestone. At its foot, a spring sends forth the first waters of New Jersey's Paulinskill River. Newton is centrally located in the Kittatinny Valley, resting on the decline of the Great Slate Mountain. The town is about 60 miles north of New York City. The New York Road, or Route 206, climbs through narrow gaps in the hills, passing Culver's Gap on its way to the Great Lakes. It enters Newton on Main Street, not far from the Sussex County Courthouse. Newton Township was formed back in 1750, and the name was carried there by the Hunts and Pettits, pioneer families who originally settled in Newtown, Long Island. Construction of the Merriam Shoe Factory in 1873 introduced the modern factory system to the county, and inaugurated an age of enterprise. This was a prosperous era for Newton, which is reflected in its many elegant homes and places of business. Up until 1950, Sussex County led New Jersey in the number of dairy cows, boasting more cows than people. But, the building of I-80 through the 1960s has transformed the area into a "bedroom community." Amidst suburbia and commuter-congested highways, Newton affords a sociability, charm and convenience long associated with village life. Its 8 thousand residents will be enjoying their annual celebration of the Newton Day Festival next Saturday, June 14th, at noon. A town with pride of place, it's our Town of the Week, Newton, New Jersey.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

What is this big yellow ball of fire in the sky?

No camera around and trying to finish some work before the kids get home, but I just noticed something outside the window and had to record it for posterity. THE SUN IS OUT. HERE. NOW. HOLY CRAP.

Friday Dinner - or Why Jersey Rocks #1

When I de-trained in Millington on Friday night, my friend Lena picked me up with her three kids, and we went to her house, sipped wine, sat in the sun and she prepared to hold "Friday Dinner" at her house. This involves an array of family showing up, casually spreading out some chow, grown-up tables, kid tables and just lots of happy people. Being an only child (and even an "only cousin"), I have always looked upon fully-packed kids' tables with the longing of a kid without a nickel staring into a candy shop. And, at the grown-up table, there's just something -beyond the words themselves - about Jersey conversations that set them apart - in the best possible way. Oh yeah, and did I mention that the SUN was out and it was hot? Because today in the Pacific Northwest, it's like 50 degrees and totally cloudy in the middle of June. So, yeah, that made a difference.

Here we are:




Wednesday, June 11, 2008

...and Lead us Not into Penn Station

I was a kid in Jersey in the 70's and New York was that scary place to the east. You might visit, but you damn well better have known where you were going and gone directly there without looking to the left or right along the way because who knew what you might have seen and how it might have scarred your precious bucolic view of the world in general. So, now, I am older and New York is gentler. But, thoughts put into one's head when one is at an impressionable age don't just fade away. So, it was with a degree of trepidation that I walked out of and closed the door to Dan and Leslie's place on Friday morning - leaving my key behind, dragging all of my possessions behind me in my carry-on and taking on Manhattan alone.

Luckily, I got no farther than the elevator outside their door before I confessed my unease to a total stranger who was waiting for the elevator with me. "Good morning this is not my place it's my sister-in-law's and I have to go work now and I have to get to the client and I have never hailed a cab before and it's a little freaky for me." I guess I looked an appropriate combination of "normal enough" and "needy out-of-towner" that the kind man offered to walk me to a sufficiently-cab-friendly artery and then he actually did the requisite flagging-down. (Not that I couldn't have done it by myself, mind you, but I was appreciative, if not blatantly embarrassed. This is what happens when the person who used to be on the road for work as much as I was home moves west, settles down in a land best summed-up as "unincorporated" and starts working part-time in her pajamas for a few years.)



Anyway, the cab ride was uneventful, save some traffic in Times Square - which actually provided a few minutes of sight-seeing. After a short workday, I was off again walking to Penn Station dragging my belongings behind me like Mags drags her soft blanket - with stolen glances behind me at regular intervals to make sure no stealthy ne'er-do-well pedestrian had sidled up too closely to my stuff. The previous day I had wandered over to Grand Central Station, which is glorious and obvious in its architecture and attitude. Penn Station, unless I missed the front entrance somehow, really just exists below ground. There are buildings above and they hint at the fact that there's a portal to the underworld below - there are a sign or two that say "LIRR" or "Train" or what have you, but I kind of just walked in a door and descended into the ground. I got in at an area that served the Long Island Railroad and just hoped that by walking for long enough I would eventually see a sign for New Jersey Transit. I did and made my way over there. The other "carriers" seemed to have manned ticket counters, but NJ Transit has only self-serve machines, and the Information desk had a little laminated sign on it that read, "Be Back in 30 Minutes." So, I grabbed a train schedule (seriously, click the link -it's CRAZY), put my glasses on, reminded myself that I am at least as smart as the average person and determined that I would figure it out. No simple task, if I do say so. But so rewarding once I was actually zipping in air conditioned comfort toward the Garden State...

Giving New Meaning to Walking to Work

Keep in mind that "walking to work" for me usually entails sliding on the old bunny slippers and shuffling from the bedroom to the kitchen for coffee and off to the home office off the great room.

Last Thursday, Leslie and I followed this approximate route from point A to point B. (Two important exceptions - 1. the exact starting point has been modified a bit to keep from revealing her address and 2. although Google maps won't let me show it, we walked on the paths through the park). After spending the day with my client at Point B, I walked to Point C to meet Dan (Leslie's husband) at his office. We then walked to Point D to meet up with Leslie for dinner.


View Larger Map

No wonder my ass hurt the next day... But it was a good hurt. The city really does seem a little smaller when you cross it on foot, and a week with the (wonderful) East Coast Food "Carb-o-Rama" and without Jazzercise or Rugrat Chasing needed a little something to keep the metabolism in check.

Speaking of dinner at Point D. We went to The Holy Basil. Finding a Thai place to love can be dicey, but when Leslie spoke of this one, it was with a sparkle in her eye that told of a long-standing love, so I knew it would be good. It was really wonderful - and the place had a little, well, a lot - more atmosphere than our old fave Thanh Thao in Portland... Leslie and I both had the Thai Salad (yum, peanut dressing) and the chicken Kang Ped (red curry) - can't go wrong with coconut milk. I have no idea what Dan ate - I was too busy shoveling my own food into my pie hole to look across the table to see. Mmm...

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Big Apple

Got in last night, and after 2 hours on the Super Shuttle van from Newark(!!!) sans A/C (triple !!!), arrived at Leslie and Dan's place in Manhattan. We went for a good dinner (and beer - needed beer!) at a cozy place called Good Enough to Eat, and then retired for the night. I don't actually mind a 21-hour day now and again.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Heading East

Early in the AM, I'm leaving on a flight bound for one of my favorite places on earth (she said, smiling)- Newark International Airport. Where it really does smell a bit and strange almost-certainly-petroleum-based gunk that mere wipers cannot budge has been known to accumulate and cling to car windshields. I believe I have a lifelong right to actually reveal such things because I am actually from New Jersey, and I have first-hand experience with the window gunk. I know that the entire state gets a bad rap because people drive down the Turnpike or fly into Newark on their way to other places and notice that it's kind of like a stinky armpit right in that little area - and I am probably a little bit of a sell-out for trashing even the smallest corner of Jersey here. I love New Jersey. Really I do. It is truly lovely in many ways, but that area by the airport... Not so much.

I will head directly into NYC to work for a few days, stay with Sister-in-Law Leslie there and then head out to bucolic Sussex County for a weekend with the folks.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Who Knew Strep Throat Came with a Rash?

Okay, so Mags has strep throat. The itchy rash that's she's had since yesterday morning was not a result of rolling around in cut grass at Fun Days, it was a telltale symptom of a nasty bacterial infection. Fortunately, she pretty much feels fine. No sore throat or anything - just a puffy, itchy red rash and a fever. We've just started the antibiotics and with some ibuprofen, she is feeling okay and currently making a "cake" out of dry cat food (I have just been informed that it's done and that we need to go sit at the table.) This is a request that I am going to ignore because I intend to remain restraining-order-distance away from her until I get back from the east coast next week. Knowing that she has been diagnosed and medicated now allows me to turn my attention directly to myself and how much it would suck to get strep throat while away from home. Jay must have told Mags on the way home from the doctor that she cannot come too close to me because as soon as I went out to ask how the visit to the pediatrician went, Maggie yelled out, "No Mama! Papa says I can't come near you. You have to stay away." So, she has spent her day eating popsicles and watching old Pink Panther cartoons (These have recently ceded the screen to Barbra Streisand as Dolly Levi.) Basically, she is lounging about as if she's on vacation from KinderCare, and I am crawling in my skin and trying to sterilize things in the hopes that the rest of us will stay disease-free. I did catch her yesterday hiding in Ellie's room eating toothpaste off of Ellie's brush - and I DID throw said toothbrush out, so maybe, Maybe, MAYBE Ellie won't get it. I know there were a few sloppy sister kisses at naptime yesterday. I don't know how long we'll have to wait to see if we've made it or not...

Sunday, June 1, 2008

My Baby's Famous

Yesterday was the culmination of the annual Hockinson Fun Days - This includes a giant all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast at the fire house (not to be missed) and a rather impressive parade (clowns, llamas, , old tractors, church groups, the middle school marching band, the Jazzercise ladies...) through "downtown" Hockinson. (For the uninitiated, "downtown" means the parade starts at the high school, passes the Kountry Cafe, three or four houses, the fire house, and the corner market and ends at the middle school.) It was beautiful out, and aside from some unfortunate peer-pressure-driven pre-parade accessorizing decisions among the Jazzercise set (which involved large red ribbons and garish red nail polish), a good time was had by all.

But, even the most enthusiastic parade-goers could use a nap by around 2:30 in the afternoon... Here's my baby in the newspaper. (Just to make it easy for you, here's the photo from the paper so you don't actually HAVE to click the link unless you want proof that I did not actually take this picture myself. Remember the days when you had to buy up copies of the paper if you wanted to show the grandparents?)