Keeping Up

Winter O-Nine Tunes

Monte - Zee Avi

Runnin' Your Way - Sera Cahoone

A Festival - Miles Neilson

Fitz and Dizzyspells - Andrew Bird

Barnesyard - The Rural Alberta Advantage

Gillian Was a Horse - Damien Jurado

Stars - Au Revoir Simone

Star, Star - The Swell Season

Helen - The Cave Singers

Blue Skies - Noah and the Whale

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

This Year - The Mountain Goats

In the Summertime - The Rural Alberta Advantage

Kick Drum Heart - The Avett Brothers

I Have Nothing - Noah and the Whale

For Beginners - M. Ward

Never Had a Chance - The Dutchess and the Duke

January Wedding - The Avett Brothers

Never Had Nobody Like You - M. Ward

Wedding Day - Rosie Thomas

Hen of the Woods - The Cave Singers

Tenuousness - Andrew Bird

Speakeasy

One night last week I met C at Knee High Stocking Co., which is fast becoming my favorite bar in Capitol Hill. And it is perhaps all too convenient being located less than a football field's length from the front door of my building.

There is no sign out front and curtains hang over the windows so that you cannot see inside at all. When you reach the door, there is a small label indicating Knee High Stocking Co. above a doorbell, which you ring in order to enter. The whole concept is mimicked after the speakeasies of the 1920s.

We sat down at the bar, far from the breezy doorway (it was cold around here!), and ordered two Happy Hour Punches, which they serve from a classic crystal punch bowl in tiny crystal cups. After a bit of catching up we pulled out Bananagrams, intriging both the bartender and server. Shortly after beginning our second game three old women walked in, looking for a place to sit. C and I each moved down a stool at the bar, severely disturbing our Bananagram tiles, so there would be three seats together. The women were chatty and quite funny. They had just come up from the Happy Hour at the Sorrento Hotel, which they informed us is very good. Several years past retirement age, they seemed an odd clientele. But also, not so odd.

The evening was enjoyable all around. And ended with a delicious hot buttered rum. Yum.

Parents

I took this photo of my parents while they were in town visiting last weekend. I like it.

Today is my dad's birthday. Happy birthday, papa.

Domestic

I have been trying to spend time enjoying home. It has been hard, with a busy neighborhood just outside the door. But, the holiday season always brings with it a desire for domestication. I made (again) Martha's Spicy Pumpkin Enchiladas for dinner. 

 

Saturday I actually pulled out my sewing machine. After a quick dusting, I managed to whip up a couple of pillowcases. While listening to the Oak Ridge Boys and Emmylou Harris sing the Christmas songs to which I have listened each December nearly all of my life. And now Miss Else is here, making everything a bit more cozy.

And also, four more things for December.

1. Walking in the sunshine. Some photos here and here. 
2. Anthropologie. 
3. The new Daytrotter iPhone app. 
4. Lollipops.

December

The idea of sitting here typing any words to provide a description of the past ten weeks is so incredibly daunting. Even the task of finding a photo to fill the space is somewhat overwhelming.

So instead. An attempt to jump into December. Fueled by an inspiring visit with Family. And two days of sunshine.

Four things that will be a part of my December.

1. Pumpkin. Pumpkin chili. Pumpkin enchiladas. And 3 P soup.
2. The Swell Season singing 'Star Star'. 
3. Glee.
4. East of Eden by John Steinbeck.

First Days of Fall

A visit to the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks in Ballard. And an incredible sunset.

An evening paddle in Lake Union and the canal.

S, The Capitol, and Jellyfish

A couple of weeks ago I flew to Baltimore to visit S. I have been intending to write about the weekend, but think I will settle for pictures. We spent most of the weekend with our matching cameras around our necks, visiting museums and walking a lot.

 

I arrived mid-morning Saturday, having taken the red-eye from Seattle through Cincinnati. We visited the Baltimore Museum of Art. Walked through the Johns Hopkins campus. And had dinner at The Brewer's Art.

Sunday, we took the train down to Washington DC, where we managed to squeeze in an entire family vacation into one day.

 

The National Botanical Garden had a really cool exhibit featuring art inspired by nature.

 

The last day of my visit was pretty much all about jellyfish. We took the bus from S's apartment down to the Inner Harbor and walked around a bit, but spent most of the day oohing over the jellyfish at the National Aquarium. They were so neat!

It was a great trip. Really fun to see S, to catch up. And to visit a part of the country to which I had never been. Though, I realized I am definitely a West Coast girl.

0.99

I am oddly fascinated by a story I heard on NPR's Marketplace Money yesterday. A story about nine couples who were married at a 99-Cent Store on September 9, 2009. All of the decor for the ceremony and reception was made from items that can be found for purchase in the store. After the ceremony, they went through the check out, paid ninety-nine cents for the wedding, and were given a receipt. I am not sure why the fascination, I mean, there are all kinds of ridiculous wedding locales. But really? The 99-Cent Store?

It could be that this story was preceded by a story about a resort in San Diego offerring rooms without beds, electricity, or toilet paper for nineteen dollars. The great thing about this particular story, was that a tent was used in the room. Urban camping. It seemed quite obvious that, lacking a bed, you would use a tent. Though I am not sure I follow the logic, I was amused.

From Rancho Rernado Inn's website:

Survivor Package
Your Package Includes:

• Deluxe accommodations
• Breakfast for two

$219 per night*

OR...

• $199 without breakfast
• $179 without honor bar
• $159 without A/C or heat
• $139 without pillows
• $109 without sheets
• $89 without lights
• $59 without linens
• $39 without toiletries
• $19 without bed

Currently SOLD OUT

[ Pictures from the 99-Cent Store wedding can be found here. There is even a video here. ]

Puzzle, Week Two

I have spent the last week cooped up in my apartment, with a bit of a head cold. Home from work yesterday and today, I've done little more than sleep, read The Time Traveler's Wife, and drink tea.

Oh, and work on my puzzle. And maybe watch a few episodes of True Blood.

Puzzle, Week One

Okay, I am a huge nerd. I am posting a picture to show how much progress I have made on my puzzle since last Thursday.

I. Am. A. Nerd. 

Thursday Night

My soccer game yesterday was canceled and I was left with a sunny evening free to do as I chose. After work, I made my way downtown, chatting with Dad as I walked. I sat at a park on Virgina Street and Western Avenue, overlooking Elliot Bay. I purposefully chose this park because it always seems to be filled with people. 

I sat reading for quite some time. I am really enjoying Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife. I think the fact that I had had plans, and then was left with free time was just what I needed. I did not feel pressure, I felt okay being anonymous in the city in which I have lived for six years.

After dinner at the Virginia Inn, passing Barnes and Noble on the way home, I stopped in to buy a puzzle. Quite out of the blue, really. I just had this nostalgic yearning to do a puzzle. Back at home, I turned on Entourage (Season Six is so good. Thanks, C!) and dumped the pieces onto my coffee table.

Though my apartment now looks like it is inhabited by someone many years older than I, with a jigsaw puzzle spread on the coffee table and a book of crosswords next to the bed, it was an unexpectedly pleasant evening. And, I suppose, if this were to be a Thursday night fifty years from now, there is not much I could complain about.

Rowed

Tonight was my last Introduction to Rowing class. Though through the entire course felt I a bit like a huge uncoordinated disaster, I Graduated, with blisters on my hands.

 

Headlamps

I have come to the conclusion that great climbs, maybe even great times in general, involve a headlamp.

A few weeks back C and I started out from the trailhead to climb Mount Baker at ten in the evening. Well after dark. Wearing our headlamps. We hiked through the night and watched the sky change colors as the sun rose onto the Easton Glacier. Though we did not reach the summit, it was a beautiful climb. And my first climb without one of our Boealps instructors along, unofficially leading the climb.

 

Then, Sunday, after waking at the trailhead, A, T, and I headed up the trail toward Mount Adams at four in the morning. The sun yet to rise, we adorned headlamps. The stars were bright, the moon a sliver. We hiked up beyond the treeline and watched as Mount Hood became illuminated to the South. A dark night turned to a pink dusk which turned into beautiful blue skies.

 

 

 

Though the route had very little snow and talus field after talus field, we successfully summited the second highest peak in the state. A and T were excellent climbing partners.

There is something exciting about climbing in the dark. And being keenly aware of each little bit of light as the sun rises is so great. And relieving. Seeing the landscape slowly light up is pretty amazing. 

On another note. While sunrises may be best seen from somewhere on a mountain, sunsets are maybe best from the water. The sun sets just as rowing class is nearing its end. Today, Kip had us row out onto Lake Union to see the colors of the city. And it was so pretty. Made me happy to be out on the water. And in Seattle. Watching the sunset.

[ Photos from Mount Baker are here. C's are here. Photos from Mount Adams are here. ]

Midwest

From my current read.

' Admittedly, the area possesses a dowdiness I personally have always found comforting, but to think of Wisconsin specifically or the Midwest as a whole as anything other than beautiful is to ignore the extraordinary power of the land. The lushness of the grass and trees in August, the roll of the hills (far less of the Midwest is flat than outsiders seem to imagine), that rich smell of soil, the evening sunlight over a field of wheat, or the crickets chirping at dusk on a residential street: All of it, it has always made me feel at peace. There is room to breathe, there is a realness of place. The seasons are extreme, but they pass and return, pass and return, and the world seems far steadier than it does from the vantage point of a coastal city.

Certainly picturesque towns can be found in New England or California or the Pacific Northwest, but I can't shake the sense that they're too picturesque. On the East Coast, especially, these places - Princeton, New Jersey, say, or Farmington, Conneticut - seem to me aggressively quant, unbecomingly smug, and even xenophobic, downright paranoid in their wariness of those who might somehow infringe upon the local charm. I suspect this wariness is tied to the high cost of real estate, the fear that there might not be enough space or money and what there is of both must be clung to and defended. The West Coast, I think, has a similar self-regard - all that talk of proximity to the ocean and the mountains - and a beauty that I can't help seeing as show-offy. But the Midwest: It is quietly lovely, not preening with the need to have its attributes remarked on. It is the placed I am calmest and most myself. '

- Curtis Sittenfeld, American Wife