Flora and Fauna

Early September is really pretty awesome at our house. The other day, the sunflowers called me out of the house, and then I realized that there was a crowd out in the garden - bees:




and a tiny little frog on a gigantic pumpkin leaf:



...and I think nasturtiums are one of the best flowers around (love those leaves).

Soapstone!

Here, Kees Shadley, the soapstone guy and his lovely wife (off to his left behind the ornamental grass) are preparing the soapstone slabs for installation into the kitchen. All of the cutting is done onsite - I don't know how. I also don't know how one guy can move and place such giant honking boulder-pancakes of rock without a small army. (I had to leave to teach Jazzercise while the first slab went in, and then we left for the weekend before the second was placed.) It may involve magic. But, for me, everything about soapstone is kind of magical.


On the way home from a trip to see Grandpa Joe in Tacoma, we stopped and picked up a bottle of mineral oil so we could continue the whole soapstone magic thing when we got home. Here is how the stone looks without oil.


Here we are beginning the decidedly low-tech magical finishing process - rubbing mineral oil onto the slab to darken it and bring out the fabulous contrast of the veins and blobs of color.


Here you can see the oiled counter between the dining room and kitchen behind the still unoiled island slab.


Here's the fully oiled counter. The texture and look is all that we had hoped for. I want to go rub it right now.

Fun Days

The end of May is here, and with that comes Hockinson Fun Days! I had to miss the parade this year because of my Saturday morning biology lab, but we hit the pancake breakfast at the firehouse by 7:30 AM and then rounded out the day with some fun over at Oscars. I love when that time of year comes when we grab a cold bottle of wine, load the kids onto the lawn tractor and go a-visiting up and down the street. (In the one photo, there's a good view of Oscar and Deborah's McDonald's Playland. No wonder Oscar is now Maggie's favorite neighbor.) They also have some baby robins that are conveniently hanging out in a tree adjacent to the playground, only about 5 feet off the ground for easy viewing.

I Was Really Trying to Get a Photo of Her Smiling...

Erica and I went to see Heather B. Armstrong (aka Dooce) at Powell's last night. It was a mob scene. Tried to get a picture of Heather smiling, but... well, I like when people use their faces to help tell stories.

I'm thinking this was during a pregnancy boob story...

And here, probably instructing the partners of pregnant women in preparation for the sexual dry spell that will potentially follow the impending birth of their bundles of joy. Good stuff.

Grainy photos - Didn't want to use the flash...

Top Ten List #6 and #7: Parental Outings

Jay and I are pretty committed to giving experiential gifts to grown-ups these days, since, as previously mentioned, we don't really NEED anything and it's always good to reduce the amount of unneeded, although well-intentioned STUFF that piles up around the house. Plus, who really remembers where that third green sweater came from? But, you're always going to remember the fun day when you went to _______ (fill in the blank) with ________ (fill in the other blank). So, Jay and I went snowshoeing, and I took day trips with Mom and Pops, too.

Mom and I went to Bonneville Hot Springs for a spa day. They were selling $100 gift cards at Costco for $80 a pop, so I stocked up on a few and studied the spa menu. After Christmas, the weather was better than it had been before, but Bonneville is out in the gorge and getting there is a hilly, twisty ride where, on occasion, it's possible to envision your car sliding on black ice and plunging a few hundred feet down the gorge and into the Columbia River. For some reason, I booked us for appointments at something like 9 in the morning on a Sunday, so it was a somewhat rushed trip to get out there, but once we were there, it was really pleasant. The building itself looks a little dated from the outside, but the spa was okay, and the people were super-nice. I have had my share of facials and massages, but never before have I had a private soak in the magical mineral waters of a hot spring. A quick facial plus a luxurious pedicure, and I was feeling pretty good. Mom had a massage and pedicure. We ate a relaxing lunch overlooking the garden and outdoor soaking pool and then headed home. The most stressful part of the visit was choosing the color of polish for our toenails.

Pops and I had a Carleton Watkins day - Portland Art Museum had what proved to be a hugely popular exhibit called Wild Beauty, featuring the history of photography in the Columbia River Gorge. There were alot of photos by Watkins and his contemporaries, but the exhibit went up through more current times including the harnessing of the river's power when the dam was built at The Dalles (and the Native American fishing grounds and many petroglyphs were sunk under the river). We also went to the Oregon Historical Society (quickly), had a great lunch across the park at South Park and watched as a downed tree was removed from a third story window of a nearby building.

And I didn't have to buy a single thing this year from L.L. Bean.

Ellie can be Ariel...

What?!?! Yesterday, the girls were playing and I said something about being a mermaid, and Maggie announced that Ellie could pretend to be the Little Mermaid. (If Maggie made the rules, she would only allow Ellie to play with toys she didn't want anymore and pretend to be princesses that she classifies as minor royalty...) This power shift is far bigger news at our house than the election results: the sleeping princess raised by fairies without knowing her true birthright has replaced the finned redhead from under the sea at the center of Maggie's universe.

A few weeks ago, as America started receiving its holiday gift catalogs, we got one from a company called eToys. Maggie saw it, perused it, and selected the page of her dreams. (This is how she talks these days - "Mama, will you be the prince of my dreams?") So, she's obsessing about the Disney Princess Sleeping Beauty Styling Head Vanity Set and Accessories. And the Disney Princess Royal Cash Register. And the Disney Princess Shoes 4-Pack - basically, she's chosen page 82. All of it.

She carries her catalog with her wherever she goes. Today when I picked her up at KinderCare, Ms Danielle said, "Maggie and I looked through her catalog today. She flipped through all of the pages until she got to the one she liked, and then she just sat there stroking it." Needless to say, Santa's gotta come through with the vanity with the little styling head or the world will end before 2009. So, Santa's elf who lives at our house did a little research and found that the vanity which lists for $89.99 in the eToys catalog can be had for $30 LESS at Target. (Yay, Target!) So, it's already hiding somewhere at our house. But, back to the point.

Ariel reigned in this house for a LONG time. Maggie's first true love in Princessdom. But no more. Now, instead of lying face up in the bathtub and arranging her wet hair around her head like a floating mane of mermaid locks, she lays out a blanket on the floor, lies down, covers herself with another blanket, lies frightfully still, closes her eyes and calls me to come be the Prince of Her Dreams, kiss her and wake her up. (In this photo, note the tiara that she got yesterday at the dentist resting on her little blonde princess head.)

I never actually returned the Sleeping Beauty video that I got at Costco last month because I had a little inkling that she might come around. Fun times here. I think this year I'm just going to give in to the whole princess thing and allowing us all to embrace our girly sides. Ack. The only little thread that I'm hanging on to is the fact that at least she's not pretending she's Barbie. And she doesn't know anything about High School Musical. Or Hannah Montana. God help us.

Kona Pipeline Coffee Porter

Hello to a new very favorite thing: Kona Pipeline Coffee Porter. This beer will be one of the enduring memories of our trip to Molokai. It was (happily) available in just about every store on the island, and Jay and I singlehandedly supported the Hawaiian economy for a week by drinking as much as possible. Jay has since found that the bottles are actually produced somewhere in Portland since there are no bottling facilities in the islands, and I have asked our beerman in Battle Ground to order us 2 cases of the limited release stuff (which we should be able to pick up tonight).

Coffee. Porter. Together. I'm thinking it's the perfect Hawaiian definition of multi-tasking.

Po'Shines Cafe de la Soul

First let me say that our experience at this soul food restaurant was not entirely pleasant, but it had nothing to do with the food (which was excellent), the restaurant itself (we sat outside at a picnic table on a side street), the weather (it was beautiful), the price of the food (reasonable), etc., etc. No, we had kind of an unpleasant experience because Jay had the GALL to bring his friend Greg from work with him, and I was required by law and all that is good and decent to bring the kids along and not leave them hungry and home alone.

A certain girl who will remain nameless but who was wearing a pink princess dress decided that under no circumstance would she sit near, acknowledge or break bread with Greg. Because he is a monster. An ogre. A character from a horror movie. Well, no - Greg is a well-groomed, well-spoken, friendly father of two. Her refusal to eat with him - or even sit at the table while he was seated enabled Ellie to feel free to just cry - loudly - whenever she happened to turn her head so that Greg was located within the scope of her vision.

BUT, let me talk for a minute about Po'Shines.

Located near the giant statue of Paul Bunyan not far from the Interstate Max Line, Po'Shines is a soul food restaurant/non-profit organization connected to a church in North Portland. It's in an edgy neighborhood, and by "edgy", I mean one step up from sketchy and trying to keep improving. The area is shooting for a bit of gentrification, and there are a number of good places to eat lined up on the main street. Now, as far as "soul" goes, I don't know that either Jay or I have an unusually high amount of it, but we do love us our catfish. If we make it at home, I pan-fry it with a special spice rub that we make - our "Ring of Fire" rub. With the rub, it doesn't take too much skill to make a yummy catfish. But the catfish at Po'Shines is something altogether different and dare I say miraculous? It has a perfectly uniformly crispy cornmeal-type coating without having any grease. We can't figure out exactly how it's cooked... Baked? Maybe - but if so, you can't tell which side was touching the pan. I bet it's fried - but then, how do they avoid the grease? Maybe since it's connected to a church, God plays a hand in the cooking?

The sides are good - Hoppin' John, mac and cheese, red beans and rice... but really, I keep coming back to the catfish. They also have greens (we didn't try them) and hush puppies (one is good - more than one gets disgusting to me.) No corn bread, which I really missed.

But, the CATFISH. Did I mention the CATFISH? Because if I didn't, they have some GOOOOOD catfish.

So, yeah, we went to lunch and after trying to eat through one kid hiding under the table and the other crying whenever she was within 10 feet of Greg, eventually, Jay and Greg just left and went back to work. At this point, both children sit quietly at our picnic table and eat their lunch. (Of course.) Now, when I'm sitting outside eating with my two kids in any neighborhood, my mommy radar is on. "Keep away from the busy street!!" "Don't throw yourself on the sidewalk in front of the guy in the wheelchair!!" "Don't drop dishes on the sidewalk!!" "Don't touch the gum on the underside of the table!!" "Get your fingers away from the trashcan - Don't you see the bees?!?!" So, even if I look like I'm enjoying my food, one ear's to the ground, one eye is on any stranger who approaches, and one hand is tightly clasped to my purse lest any ne'er-do-well should look and see how high maintenance my kids can be and decide that it would be easy to make a quick swipe for the wallet. What would I do - run after him and leave my kids sitting there with half-eaten hush puppies? I think not. Moms with young kids are EASY targets, if you are someone who's willing to pay later by going straight to one of the lower circles of Hell.

Needless to say, when an old beater of a station wagon pulled up to the stop light on the side street from behind my left shoulder, I noticed that it was filled with 4 young men. Suddenly, one leaned out the window and started yelling - at me! It took probably a good two seconds to register that he was waving a book out the window - not just any book, no it was his Bible. And what was he yelling? "Did you like the food?? Great!! We're having a poetry reading here tonight at 8:00! You should come back!" Then, the light changed, they drove off and I was able to breathe again. A poetry reading. At the soul food restaurant next to the church.

Lunch!!

It's not very often that I enjoy my lunch so much I run and grab the camera (unlike my dear friend Erica). But today, it was really good and I want to remember it for all eternity and share it with the world.

I have recently started allowing myself a little indulgence at Costco: Foster Farms pre-grilled chicken strips. Yes, we could cook our own supply of chicken for quick use, but we would never do such a thing regularly. And, having the chicken on hand actually encourages me to eat more veggies and to eat at home rather than run out and get something. And another Costco find - the large resealable container of feta cheese. Today, I grabbed both of them and some organic spinach and some pre-cut mushrooms (again, lazy but effective). I ran to the garden and picked some teeny tiny cherry tomatoes and some lemon basil. I sauteed a clove of garlic in olive oil (then removed it), added a small amount of finely chopped onion and let it sautee for a minute before adding the mushrooms, the chicken and some chopped red bell pepper. Then, I tossed in the tomatoes (whole), the basil, the spinach... Covered it all, let it cook on medium for a few minutes, turned off the heat, sprinkled on the feta and let it sit for a bit, spooned it onto my plate and ate it with a few mini pitas...

Lots of good stuff, low carb, relatively low fat - and so yummy I had to post.

Wine and Crap in the Tub

Here's the part of the post that makes it look like we actually get to savor our wine: We've decided to expand our horizons into Riesling, which we formerly assumed was just a sicky sweet wine for losers. When we went wine tasting way back when, we found a dry riesling at Erath (one of our favorite spots) and brought it home. A few weeks ago, Katherine Cole (a wine writer for the Oregonian) who seems pretty cool and unassuming wrote this article about "Why Riesling Rocks," and we decided to leave all the kids' toys scattered on the floor and spend some quality time by uncorking the bottle we had. We loved it, and of course since we decided right away to buy more, it's sold out wherever we look. BUT, having opened our door to riesling, we decided to sample a few others. I found this dry riesling from Chateau Ste Michelle (which actually owns Erath these days, I believe), and we liked that one, too.

Here's the part of the post that reveals what life is really like at our house: Last night, we tried a bottle from the same winery that I'd found on the cheap at Costco. It wasn't labeled "dry" but when I got home from Jazzercise, Jay needed a drink and I was happy to oblige and this bottle was cold. We also enjoyed it - it was the perfect wine to sip while recovering from a good workout and listening to Jay's horror story about bathing the girls while I was gone. Jay never enjoys bathing both girls, but he had volunteered to go for it while I was at class. Apparently, he had left the two girls alone in the tub for a bit when a dripping wet Maggie came to get him to tell him that Ellie had "pooped in the tub." Indeed, she had, and according to Jay, it was an admirable effort. Disgusted, he removed the girls from the tub and marched their little naked dripping bodies into our shower. While they were in there, he went back into Ellie's bathroom to fish turds out of the water and somehow sanitize the tub. While he was doing that, he heard Maggie yell, "NO, ELLIE!! DON'T PICK THAT UP!!" He figured that exclamation did not bode well for what he was about to encounter in our bathroom, and he was right. It seems he got in there in time to find Ellie running from the room with two fistsful of crap. Needless to say, when I got home from class, he looked a bit spent and shell-shocked and needed a glass of wine (or a whole bottle).

I hope that someday he will be able to look back and laugh because it was pretty hysterical listening to him tell the story and using the word "shit" literally: "...so I'm thinking to myself, 'How the hell am I going to clean all this shit up?'"

Yeeeeeeeeahhhhhhhh, Buddy!

Sunday afternoon, Jay came around the corner of the house and said, "Hey, Babe. Do you wanna have some fun?"

"...but, Jay, the girls are here..."

"No, I mean do you wanna dig a really big hole? I'll watch the girls."

And, there you have an offer that no sensible girl in her right mind could EVER refuse. Seriously. I don't know how I got through so many years of living without operating some relatively heavy machinery because I'm tellin' you - It's (insert expletive for emphasis here)-in' awesome.

Now, you may wonder why we wanted to dig a really big hole. The short answer (and really the only one that's necessary) is because we had the chance to. Oscar from next door finally came through on the excavator to dig out the trenches for the water/sewer lines for the outbuilding. He did that part of the work because it actually required the fine motor skills of a brain surgeon. Then, he agreed to leave the machine here for a few hours so we could have some fun. We dug a hole just so we could shove some brush in and fill it up. Jay tore out a few tree stumps like the Incredible Hulk and Yeti combined. I only wish we had an old rusty beater car that we could have interred. If you can zoom in, look at my face in this picture. That is the goofy look that was plastered on there even as rivulets of sweat dripped down my torso and my ass went numb. There's just something I can't explain about it... If my husband could offer up an excavator as foreplay every day, we'd be the copulation champions of Clark County.

Monkey Slippers

Here's hoping that the junk (and that is really a rather tame euphemism) that we've been dealing with as far as my work, my Jazzercise music and my dear computer are concerned has met its demise and that I will now feel released to conquer such pleasureable and self-indulgent things as this blog again. It's been a long coupla days, and I've been alternately treading lightly and laying down the law in this room. Knock on wood, I sent off some documents today to the client (as long as they're able to access the gargantuan files by a FileMail link that I sent them). So, hopefully, they'll be happy, I can get a certain application out of my life for a bit, and I'll be able to reestablish a sense of normalcy. That said, here's a little something fun that's been snuggling up to the feet of two little girls at our house: monkey slippers from The Children's Place.

I took Mags to the mall last week to look for shoes. Although she would be happy wearing heavy tights and white sandals all through the winter, I feel a certain sense of responsibility to save her from the junior fashion police that I'm sure infiltrate even the youngest of KinderCare classes. We scored some cute Nine West (really) ballet flats that you can see in the princess picture from the last post at Nordstrom. They even came with their own little black carrying case/purse thing. We also got a sensible albeit sequin encrusted pair of pink light up Mary Janes. But, I was looking for something a little more, well, brown and everyday. So, we went to The Children's Place. We got some more tights for Mags since I'm pretty sure she's given up wearing pants maybe for good. Then, she said something that made me very happy and surprised...

"What are we going to get for my sister?"
"I'm not sure. We came out together because we needed to make a special trip to get you some things."
"But we need to get Ellie SOMETHING."
"Well, what are you thinking of?"
"I like these. Do they have her size?"
"Yes, they do."
"And do they have MY size?"
"Yep."

...and as much as I have often tried to get them things that are similar but not exactly the same, I'm thinking sometimes it makes good sense to get them things that actually are exactly the same because I have not heard a single peep of ownership disagreement out of either one of them about these slippers. And that's saying something.

Stylin' Trike

Grandpa Joe brought this extra-special PINK Schwinn Roadster tricycle down for Ellie, and the girl thinks it's the best thing since sippy cups. Of course, so does her sister.

Dejeuner sur L'Herbe

Nothing beats a picnic lunch in Washington Park on a sunny day, although Erica sent me a lovely picture of a pastrami sandwich worthy of high praise today. This was from last week, and really kind of shows why Portland is one of the best places in the universe.

Bottle #2: Sokol Blosser 2006 Rose of Pinot Noir

What to drink on a fabulously sunny summer afternoon when your plans for lunching at Washington Park's Rose Garden in Portland fall through because half-way through the drive down your daughter starts crying because she is parched and not feeling well, causing you to pull into your husband's work parking lot, inform him of a change in plans, open up the car's hatch, extrude your ever-so-well planned and balanced picnic fare and eat lunch on the blacktop while said daughter naps in the car leading you to believe that she may really be sick - perhaps suffering a relapse of the strep throat that you are determined to wipe out of your household once and for all?

Yes, Sokol Blosser 2006 Rose of Pinot Noir. (Here's a link to the 2007.) Not a saccharine fruity rose, mind you - but rather a crisp and feminine (I mean that in a good way) wine - perfect for sucking down while your little sunshine lounges on the sofa watching Meet the Robinsons for the 72nd time - or for taking outside to the front porch when, even calling upon your most compassionate Mommy instincts, you just can't stand to stay with the kid and miss out on the entire day's offering of Vitamin D (Thank you, Sun!) And look how cool it is that the viscosity of the wine causes it to sit not entirely horizontally in the bottle. (Ha! Kidding, just a little 'trick photography' there.)

Hitting the Summer Stride

Yesterday was a really great Sunday - I was actually struck mid-day with the realization that we were heading toward a near-perfect day according to my personal perfect day criteria. I didn't say anything to keep from jinxing it midway through...

We all woke up early and decided to head out for breakfast, but being weary of the Kountry Cafe, we set out for a slightly more cultured (table cloths) yet laid-back (Hawthorne) breakfast at Bread and Ink Cafe in Portland. We got there minutes after they opened, so we had most of the restaurant to ourselves. The high potential for the day became obvious when the next table to sit down was a couple with FOUR kids, thus reducing any noise or commotion that my two little angels might produce to a mere buzz in the ear of other patrons. Maggie had perhaps the best Belgian waffles that I have ever tasted, and I got to eat a good amount of them because they were served with a heaping portion of whipped cream, and since said whipped cream was on her plate, I had a hard time convincing her that the waffles were the main point of the meal...

After breakfast, we parked at the corner of 37th and SE Stark in the shade of a tree next to my old apartment and crossed the street to Laurelhurst Park to play for a bit. The girls liked the playground, and especially enjoyed communing with the ducks and dogs. Ellie "entertained" countless passers-by by talking with the ducks. It went like this: She'd get a little too close to a duck. The duck would quack, "Get away from me, you little cretin!" Ellie would think he was saying, "Hi, my name is Mac. What's yours?" To which Ellie would shout, "WACK! WACK! WACK!" until the duck hopped in the pond and swam away.

After the park, Jay suggested that we go to Portland Nursery to look for bean plants. The Meager Garden has three bean plants that are all doing fabulously well, but once it became clear that they were thriving, I remembered that the joy of having bean plants in the first place is getting to pick and eat lots of beans. Three plants, no matter how fabulous, aren't going to cut it. So, Saturday, I drove around Clark County looking for bean starts to no avail. But, Portland Nursery is a place like none other, and I was able to successfully score 5 new 4" pots, each with 3 starts, thereby boosting our potential bean production exponentially - right when I was about to give up on finding any.

All that activity, and it was still only 10 in the morning. When we got home, the weather was sunny and hot, and Jay was able to spend some time with Ric's tractor mowing the "front 40" in preparation for a year-round path he wants to create out to the tall trees (and future camping spot) in the front of the yard. The girls were fascinated by the activity - Girls love guys on tractors, after all.

We had decided that we wanted the girls to take early naps, so I gave them popsicles because popsicles drip on small children which easily leads to a quick shower to clean off, and showers easily segue into naptime. (And I thought my implication analysis skills had disappeared during my first pregnancy...) Early naptime accomplished, we were able to get the girls up and out in time to go to the English Estate Winery next to the giant gravel pit right in Vancouver. They were having an "Art and Wine" weekend, and we've always been a little curious about what they're doing out there. We got a couple of bottles of wine and headed out just as Ellie completely lost it because she had to leave the horsie swing that had become her new favorite thing in the universe. (Picture Jay carrying her off as she screamed, "NOOOO, HOOORRRRRRRRRRRRSIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!!!!!!!! HORRRRSSIIIIEEEEEEEE!!!)

Yummy dinner together. Hot day turned into a cool evening. Jay put the kids to bed while I planted the new bean plants. Then, a few last words in the Sunday crossword before bed, and voila: great day.

Ours is not to reason why...

For the seven summers that I have been acquainted with the garden here, the blueberry bushes have been in residence. I know that Jay did not give them alot of love back in the beginning, but there have been years when we really did try to care for them and coax berries to grow. There was even a year when we draped them in protective netting, thinking it would keep the birds from eating the few berries that managed to plump themselves into something edible. All the netting ever did was succeed in capturing birds, sending me bounding into the house to get Jay to untangle some poor (and angry) little tweeter who had gotten his spindly foot stuck. Whatever the reason - maybe the bushes sense that two little rugrats love blueberries, maybe it's just that they appreciate the neglect - We have LOTS of blueberries this year! Plump and scrumptious!

Mags will stand there and pick them until she's blue in the face (ha) - while I tend to the meager veggie garden I'm trying to maintain now that I am officially in "summer mode." This is a great task for her because it prevents her from trying to "help" by weeding my planters filled with sedums.

"Stained Glass" Painted Ring

I got this ring at Cheeky B in the Pearl near REI, and I love it, especially the colors - although it was cheap and every time I wear it, one more panel of paint disappears. It's hard to find rings small enough to fit my fingers, and doing a cost/benefit analysis, I would gladly buy another.

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).

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.