more like daylight suckage time

I'm normally not a strong Daylight-Savings-Time hater, but in the days immediately following the spring switch, I can understand why others are. Yesterday was all out of whack; today isn't quite as bad, but combined with a tight schedule, I think it's going to take me longer than usual to adjust.

Sister, Guy, and the Fabulous Miss M were here for the weekend, so that actually did make it a nice weekend despite the time change. While they were at the Shamrock Run yesterday morning, we played with Miss M, then per our now annual tradition after such things, they returned bearing treats. Specifically, a box of Voodoo Doughnuts. Hence the appearance of a few odds and ends in today's lunch. Then they left with an extremely sugared up and overly exhausted 3 year-old, and I'll admit, I prayed for their sanity. I haven't heard anything on the news about them being committed for psychological observation so I'm assuming everyone survived the remainder of the day.

After they left, we hit Rejuvenation to pick out hinges and handles for the new cabinet doors we're having done for the display shelves in the kitchen. I haven't talked about that much yet, but it's part of the project to get the attic eave closet doors done; the contractor we chose didn't charge much extra for these three cabinet doors, so we figured it was a good time to scratch that little side project of our list, as well. Afterward, we stopped at Miller Paint to pick out a pretty color -- the doors will have glass inserts and we're going to paint the shelves and interior to reallly make it spark. But you'll have to wait to learn more about the color, because you know how I am about the big reveals....

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• wee potatoes with cheddar heart
• teriyaki chicken meatballs
• steamed broccoli
• Fuji apple half with heirloom carrot sticks
• a few random bits of Voodoo doughnuts: buttermilk bar, powdered sugar doughnut, peanut doughnut leftover from yesterday

dinner, pink Natural Lunch:

• ham, barrel pickle, and cream cheese in a sundried tomato wrap
• heirloom carrots
• Fuji apple half

shame, shame, shame

Most everyone who knows my history knows how strongly I feel about the labor movement and how much it shaped me. It's not hard to imagine, then, how wrapped up in the Wisconsin situation I've been. Or how much of a gut punch yesterday's outcome was. This sums up my feelings pretty well:

If you're outraged by the movement to obliterate unions and want to do something to help, ActBlue has several campaigns where you can help fund recall efforts for the governor and Republican senators who perpetrated this travesty.

lunch, Laptop Lunch:

• peanut butter and strawberry jam on whole grain bread (with the cut-off crusts as gap fillers)
• rainbow carrot sticks and peas
• hard boiled egg with dried cherries in the little container
• cinnamon apple sauce

there was an old woman who swallowed a fly

I was late to work this morning and it's all my mother's fault.

See, I spent the weekend writing -- with middling success -- while Sal brewed another batch of beer. He's supposed to be posting about these ventures in chemistry here, and in fact has a page set aside on this website for that purpose, but has as yet to actually do it. We'll see if me guilting him publicly will move him to do it.

Anywhoodle, I did, as I say, spend time writing but was hampered to some degree by a new Scrabble-type game on my phone thanks to my mother, damn her, who talked me into giving it a try.  "We can play against each other!" she said with glee. And since I don't get to see as much of my mother as I would like, I figured it would be fun to share this enjoyable little diversion with her throughout my day.

Of course, I don't have many games installed on my phone for a reason. I know full well how easy it is to get sucked in, and I try to be oh-so-careful about squandering my precious free time. I only recently broke my hour-per-day Angry Birds habit -- and that only because I conquered all the levels and got three stars on everything and unlocked all the golden eggs, for both the regular Angry Birds AND the Angry Birds Seasons (including, yes, the Valentine's Day levels), although we're of course not counting the recent addition of the "Ham 'Em High" level, which I conquered but haven't mastered AND ANYWAY my point is! I did not need this distraction.

But this was my mother! How could I deny my mother? And anyway, it would require little from me: I could submit a word when I had a quick moment, between phone calls, or waiting for the microwave to defrost something, whatever. Perfect!

Well. We've had an epic game going since Friday, and are down to the last three tiles of the entire game, each of us with three left. I'm leading by over 100 points, thanks largely to a 45 point word score off of one of her higher scoring words late in the game. And thanks to that I'm now addicted, playing another board with her while we wrap this one up (and maybe possibly several other boards against random other players, as well) and really, my mother is responsible for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, here. I AM NORMALLY VERY RESPONSIBLE OKAY.

So this time suck I did not need, as I say, and it's the primary reason I still have three baskets of unfolded laundry. NOT because I opted to watch three episodes of Princess Tutu Friday night when I could've been folding laundry, nor because I spent Saturday morning searching for old An Evening at the Improv segments on YouTube. And it was also not because I spent a few hours minutes browsing Tumblr for new and pretty campaign pics for the Fandom Cage Matches, and especially especially not pics of my beloved Leslie Knope who understands my deepest truuuuuuuths. I also did not browse for new bento boxes as a reward for my promotion, nor did I start a new bookmarks folder of creative space decorating and organizing idea. I totally did not do any of those things. You can't prove anything.

Nope, it was all because I whittled away the time playing a not-Scrabble Scrabble game with my mom on my Droid and so my clothes did not get folded and my socks did not get mated which is why I had to dig for a replacement pair of socks at the last minute this morning because I stepped into a pile of cat vomit in the kitchen because our linoleum is the exact camoflaged pattern for cat vomit, and that is why it's my mother's fault that I was late to work today.

lunch, pink natural lunch:

• rice pilaf with broccoli and onion
• wilted spinach and bacon salad
• Braeburn apple slices

dinner @ Prompt, deli club:

• ham & smoked gouda skewers
• Braeburn apple slices
• dried cherries and yogurt-covered raisins

a vp, a chef, and a maestro walk into a bar...

Guess who now has something in common with Joe Biden?! Thanks to a promotion a few days ago, I am now the Vice President of Internal Operations, which means that I'll basically be doing what I've been doing for awhile, but with a more impressive business card.  My mom will be thrilled that I (sort of) share a title with Joe Biden, since she loves him. Of course, that also means that I have something in common with Dan Quayle, but I suppose the laws of physics dictate that the universe must remain in balance.

It's also meant being addressed as "Madam Vice President" by Sal every chance he gets. "What would you like for dinner, Madam Vice President?" "I do believe it's raining outside, Madam Vice President." "Be careful not to step in the cat barf, Madam Vice President." I suppose it's payback for when I learned his students call him "Chef" in the same way you would call someone "Doctor", as in: "Chef said the chocolate has to be tempered first" or "I remember Chef's lecture on the importance of oven spring in bread baking". I teased him about being in that episode of Seinfeld where Elaine is dating a symphony conductor who insists on being called "Maestro" by everyone. (Even though he's never asked his students to call him that, they just do.) So I...may have had the mockery coming....

lunch, deli club:

• baked potato with strips of smoked gouda, with steamed broccoli as gap fillers
• more broccoli and a lone spicy meatball
• mandarin halves with blueberries as gap fillers

a prompt for a twofer

You will groan at that play on words when you've finished reading this post. It's a really bad play on words, but I actually wrote most of this post last night and it was the best I could come up with at midnight.

And so anyway, I had two full on bentos today: one for lunch, one for dinner. "But why do you have a bento for dinner?" you might ask. Because tonight, my dear chickadees, was the first night of Prompt, the 10 week writing workshop run by Write Around Portland. It was my main birthday really-for-reals present from Sal. (I know, I was super extra spoiled this year.) It was also the reason I'm only now getting this post posted.

With the exception of a week-long writing camp when I was 15(?), I have never participated in a writing workshop-ish thing before. I am tremendously excited and I have no idea what to expect. You should come read about it over on my writing blog.

It's a brown bag event, hence the reason for a dinner bento. It's held at Powell's, which is kind of the best place in the world, I think we can all agree. It is also something like Disneyland for writers, so that is a thing.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• The Halls' Patented Cold Weather Soup, concocted from a roast (chuck roast, in this case) and a bunch of whatever-vegetables-we-have-in-the-crisper-and-need-to-use-up (this go-round: potatoes, carrots, onions, Swiss chard) thrown together in a crockpot -- with one or more of the following: tomato sauce, beef/chicken/vegetable broth, tomato paste -- and left alone for eight hours
• sourdough bread
• half of a Rancho Royale apple
• plain yogurt with fresh (frozen) blueberries*

dinner, Paris slimline:

• spicy meatballs
• steamed broccoli as gap filler
• mandarin halves, Rancho Royale apple slices, and fresh blueberries*, with a wee cup of yogurt covered raisins

*From our family berry picking adventure in August, which I just realized I forgot to post about. To celebrate Sister's and the Fabulous Miss M's birthdays, we spent the day at a U-Pick farm on Sauvie Island, where we proceeded to pick a buttload of blueberries and marionberries. And then had berry pancakes for breakfast the next morning. And berry-everything for several days afterward. And froze the remaining three quarters of a buttload and packaged them in handy vacuum-sealed portions.

Only one other person in the group brought their dinner, so I felt rather conspicuous eating mine in front of everyone. As I opened my box, one of the other people in the group said, "That is the cutest lunch box I have ever seen." Remarkably, my head did not burst into flames from being the (very brief) center of attention. It says something about how much I've changed that I forged ahead and ate it anyway rather than stuff it into my bag and go hungry until later lest I call any undue attention to myself. Usually whilst admiring the person who forged on ahead and ate her lunch/dinner seemingly without embarrassment. Perhaps there was another person sitting there thinking that thing I used to think, and maybe she'll bring her dinner next time.

short and sweet

Keeping things short, since yesterday's was such a long post....

lunch, Paris slimline:

• spicy meatballs with broccoli as gap filler
• mandarine halves
• Fuji apple slices
• carrot sticks and a Babybel cheese

and the anchorperson on tv goes la de da de da de diddy diddy da

the opening act for Saturday's concert, a group called Mountain Man; they were absolutely phenomenal

(Yes, that is the opening line of the chorus of "16 Military Wives" and yes, it will be relevant later.)

I have the worst headache this morning. I think my brain is melting from all the fabulousness of the weekend. Totally worth it.

Friday, Sister and I met at my office for a Girls' Night. My office is not-quite-halfway, and its proximity to various restaurants and shops makes it a good meeting point for these evenings. I showed her around my office, then took her to George's Giant Hamburger, my stomping grounds for workday lunches with Kurt, ProcrastiGirl, and K back in the day. ProcrastiGirl and I still make the occasional pilgrimage, but it's just not the same since Kurt moved away.

Anyway, I was excited to introduce Sister to the George's love, which she duly appreciated. Unlike Sal, who was unimpressed the one time I took him there. Sister and I determined that he is clearly cracked in the head.

We walked it off by browsing through Michael's, doing our best to quell the art supply wants despite the enticing discounts and generally solving the problems of the world while we were at it. As one does. Then it was a nightcap of sorts with a trip to Peachwave for a frozen yogurt toppings bar bonanza, where we decided that pomegranate frozen yogurt and chocolate sauce aren't the best combination, but pretty much everything else is. We lost track of time talking and laughing and crying (in a good way) and finally said our goodbyes well past her usual bed time.

Sal spent Saturday at the Expo Center judging desserts for a high school cooking competition so I spent my day mostly in the studio making a grand mess with every art supply I own while I waited for Sal to get home and then for The Decemberists concert later that night.

And you guys. YOU GUYS. Okay, I'm biased, I admit. I love them utterly, it's true. And I have seen them in concert repeatedly, including not even six months ago when they played MusicFest NW. And every time, they are A.MAZ.ING. So I am predisposed to swoon over them, I can admit it.

"Down By the Water", from their latest albumHowever. Saturday's concert was, hands down, my favorite of any time I've seen them. We had seats in the balcony and were even closer than we were at Pioneer Courthouse Square. The Schnitz is a great venue anyway, and showcased them perfectly. It was a sold out show, of course, and they have such a diverse and dedicated fanbase that the energy is electric and they feed off that well. They played most of the "The King Is Dead" (which I got for my birthday from Sally), as well as a nice selection from the rest of their discography (set list at the end of this post).

"The Mariner's Revenge". Live. O. M. G.But the best part? OMG YOU GUYS THE BEST PART. The encore. Okay, so they made us really wait for the encore, like I thought people might start rioting, the cheering and chanting was so loud. And then finally Colin comes out just by himself and does a sweet acoustic rendition of "Red Right Ankle", and Jenny popped out just long enough to do the keyboard bit. And then he sort of left the stage and the lights went down like that was all they were going to do. AND THEN. AND THEN. They all came out, and they're all clustered right there in the front of the stage instead of taking positions at the keyboard and drum kit and everything, and Colin says that this next song requires a bit of participation (which we'd already done on other songs), and I turned to Sal and squealed, "OMG MARINER'S REVENGE" and then Colin said, "You'll need to sound like you've been eaten by a whale" AND THE CROWD WENT COMPLETELY APESHIT.

They put that song on hiatus for live shows sometime during the tour for The Crane Wife, and Sal and I were starting to despair that we'd ever get to see it live. AND THEN WE DID AND IT WAS OUTRAGEOUSLY FABULOUS AND OMG I MIGHT HAVE DIED REPEATEDLY FROM JOY. Greatest concert experience ever*, Y/Y? IN CONCLUSION THE DECEMBERISTS HAVE MY UNDYING DEVOTION FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.

*WITH ONE GLARING EXCEPTION. And seriously, this is a lesson on "What Not To Do At A Concert Lest the Person Behind You Have A Smartphone And A Website". There was this woman sitting in front of me, you see. Now, you should understand that there's some sort of law of the Universe that because I am short, I am forever doomed at any venue -- whether it's a concert, a movie, a play, whatever -- to be seated or stand behind the tall person, or the kid who stands in the seat, or the moron who doesn't take off their hat, or the chick/dude who has teased their hair ten feet above their head. Sal and I will usually switch seats, although even this doesn't always solve the problem -- the person will move, too, or all of a sudden the person sitting next to them will decide to kneel in their seat or some other sort of fuckery.

Anyway, the woman sitting in front of me was a little taller than average but not a lot, and since the balcony is stadium seating, it shouldn't have presented a problem. Shouldn't have. However. This woman was apparently desperate to participate in the concert and demonstrate just how truly into it she was because she kept leaning forward in her seat, thus screwing up the entire eyeline/angle purpose of stadium seating, AND, rocking spasmodically left to right for Every. Fucking. Song. so I couldn't even just lean to one side to see around her. Her companions seemed to be mildly horrified by her behavior and her husband appeared to ask her to settle down repeatedly, but she was all, "I'm in the groooove."

I persevered, however, and managed to enjoy the show despite these perturbances. Not content to somewhat detract from the concert experience for everyone around her, though, she spent the second half of the show intermittently raising her freakishly long tentacle arms above her head and clapping OUT OF TIME with the music in a motion that spanned the chair widths on either side of her. Still, I managed not to rip her tentacle arms off and beat her with them.

my view of the stage when Tentacle Arms stood up for the first half of "16 Military Wives"And then. The first cords of "16 Military Wives" started up and she...stood up and dancing like a brain damaged jellyfish. She is clearly blocking my view and is the only person in our entire section standing up**, and the entire time, I'm wondering to myself why she isn't bleeding to death from the daggers I have stared into her back.

**I love dancing at a concert as much as anyone, but when it's a seated venue, you expect that you're going to spend at least part of the concert with your butt in the seat. Sure, you'll be rocking out, but unless most of the crowd stands up, you do your rocking out WITH YOUR BUTT IN THE SEAT.

She did finally get the hint that the rest of the section (or balcony or crowd, for that matter) wasn't going to take her lead and she sat down. But there was a moment, right when they were getting going on "Mariner's Revenge", when she acted like she was going to stand up again and I said, "Stay down". I don't think she heard me, but I was ready to pitch a hissy if she made any motion to stand up. Because if she had in any way blocked my view of the stage during the song I've been waiting literally years to see live? Oh yes, there would have been a throwdown. Thankfully, she kept her inconsiderate ass in her seat and her tentacle arms mostly in check and no one had to die.

lunch, black strawberries

• panko-breaded chicken breast, steamed broccoli, carrot sticks
• Bosc pear, with dried cherries and cashews as gap fillers
• yogurt-covered raisins

Set list:

• California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade
• Calamity Song
• Rox in the Box
• Los Angeles, I'm Yours
• The Crane Wife 3
• The Sporting Life (with a bit of "This Charming Man" by The Smiths, which I had to look up because I couldn't remember where it was from)
• January Hymn
• Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
• The Rake's Song
• Don't Carry It All
• Down By The Water
• Rise to Me
• 16 Military Wives (with an audience participation bit from "Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers)
• This Is Why We Fight

1st Encore:

• Red Right Ankle (acoustic with Colin Meloy and Jenny Conlee for the keyboard bit)
• The Mariner's Revenge Song

2nd Encore:

• June Hymn

wiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Community + Firefly shoutout = DED FROM AWESOMENESS

In other news, Community and Parks & Recreation fills my shrunken grinchy heart with glee and gladness, god bless us every one.

and then he made me a cake

@ Powell'sOh my, what a terrific day! Brunch at Gravy, a trip to SCRAP, then downtown where Sal had reserved us a room at the Ace Hotel. Which is pretty much the kind of hotel we would have if we were hipper and cooler than we are. Seriously, what can you say about a place that has a vintage photo booth in the lobby, old payroll ledgers decoupaged in the bathroom, and an illustration from a sign language instruction book painted above the bed, except that it is indisputably awesome?

The hotel's location is perfect. It's a block from Powell's, across the street from the Living Room Theater, next door to Kenny & Zuke's, and within a block or two of several great shops and restaurants. It also has an on-location Stumptown Coffee (Sal may have bowed in deference) and the hotel restaurant is Clyde Common, which apparently makes the usual best-of lists. (I didn't know -- when I asked Sal what kind of restaurant it was, he said, "You know, basically a run-of-the-mill Pacific Northwest place." Why would we want to go to a run-of-the-mill place? "Oh, it's a good place. It's won awards." Well that's hardly run-of-the-mill if it's won awards. "All right then, Miss Pedantic. 'Typical' would've been the better word. Yeesh.")

A downpour started just as we headed out for Powell's, so happy birthday to me from the weather gods. They sure know how I love a good rain. We managed not to spend our entire evening browsing the bookshelves, and even more remarkably, came out with only one bag full to bursting. We've learned restraint in our old age.

The wait at Clyde Common was far too long so we opted for Kenny & Zuke's, instead. I'm glad it worked out that way because we had a really great meal in a comfortable atmosphere. Sal had a Reuben, since he will always opt for one if it's on the menu, and I had the best damn burger I've had in a long time. Plus, homemade garlic dill pickles!

Afterward, we walked up a few blocks to Cacao, a speciality chocolate shop, for a wee cup of drinking chocolate. Not hot chocolate. Drinking chocolate. I mentioned on Tumblr last night that I thought I knew what chocolate was, but oh, how very wrong I was. Pure chocolate in a custom blend -- mine was a blend of two different dark chocolates and a milk chocolate with a dash of cinnamon -- served warm and creamy, rich but not too rich, nor too sweet, just perfect.

Which is basically the description of my entire special day. Just perfect.

chocolate chiffon cake with pastry creme between the layers and Italian buttercream icingAnd then he made me a cake.

and it's lincoln's birthday, too

I took today and Monday off as a little gift to myself for my birthday. It's not a milestone birthday or anything, but it has slowly morphed into an extended extravaganza-ish thing.

It started yesterday, actually, when ProcrastiGirl and my assistant treated me to lunch at La Provence. It was delightful! The meal was delicious, ProcrastiGirl had her first Monte Cristo, and instead of a cupcake at the end, they had a wonderful fruit tart brought out with a candle to blow out. And because they like me, did not sing to me. Bless.

Today included a facial and massage, my gift to me, the arrival of two packages, one from Cat, the other from The Albino. And a haircut, which made it an Inadvertent Day of Beauty. I'll be spending the rest of the evening playing in the studio in between snuggling on the couch with the kitties and watching S2 of Parks and Recreation (OMG CAT I STILL LOVE YOU FOREVER THIS SHOW IS OUR TRUTHHHHHHHHH).

Tomorrow, the actual official day, will be spent with Sally. He has plans, but they're mostly a surprise. I know that the day starts out with breakfast at Gravy and includes an overnight stay at a downtown hotel, so it will be a pretty great day all around. Gotta love that guy for being such a thoughty hubby.

Feeling downright spoiled this year, as a matter of fact, since a joint birthday/mutual-Valentine gift is tickets for The Decemberists concert next weekend, and my gift from him was enrollment in Write Around Portland's 10 week "Prompt" writing workshop. AND, we'll be spending part of Sunday with Sister and the Fabulous Miss M for park picnic.

See what I mean? Seriously spoiled.

brown baggin' it with bento

So today was spent at the work retreat I mentioned yesterday. I took my usual pics but didn't have a chance to post, hence the evening post instead.

From 7:30 AM to 5 PM, I was sequestered in a hotel meeting room near my office with the other four executives of my company while we hashed out some big policy, procedural, and structure decisions. Perhaps not anyone's idea of an exciting way to spend a day, but it was a productive work session and we met all of our goals for the day. Well worth the time.

It's a good thing we like and respect each other and get along well, because wow, was it ever an intense day. I'm completely wiped out. And very thankful I packed a heartier breakfast than I normally would with a bigger box for lunch*. I needed the brain fuel and I have no energy to make much of anything for dinner tonight, so I'm glad to not even be hungry.

breakfast, pink natural lunch:

• half of a bagel, with a thin spread of cream cheese and pomegranate jam
• molded egg
• Pink Lady apple chunk
• kiwi slices

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• sushi (sushi rice, broccolette stalks, and carrots in nori)
• parmesan breaded chicken breast
• steamed broccolette, and carrot stars for garnish (with more carrot under the broccolette and chicken)
• kiwi slices and pineapple chunks
• for an afternoon snack: yogurt covered raisins and dried cherries with orange dark chocolate as a divider

*The retreat included lunch brought up from the hotel restaurant so I didn't actually have to bring my own. The hotel is a nice enough one with a pretty standard suburban hotel restaurant. Decent food with a fair selection of items (though most made from packaged and processed ingredients, unfortunately). But after the not-so-great reaction I had after the last working lunch, I just decided it would be easier to bring my own for today's thing. If we were all going to break and eat in the restaurant, that would be one thing; it certainly wouldn't kill me and those kinds of comraderie activities are more important than whatever misgivings I might have about the menu. But since we were eating in the room where we were working, it was a no brainer.

insert clever title here

this has nothing to do with today's post, I was just fondly remembering our trip to the tulip festival awhile back with The Albino and Mr. T.It's a busy week ahead, including a Wednesday-Work-From-Home-Day in the office instead. I actually have a presentation that morning (hence the reason I have to go to the office) as part of an office-wide meeting. Tomorrow is an off-site executive work retreat, and I took next Friday and Monday off. In other words, some added disruption to my already cracktastic schedule. I'd say that the change in routine keeps things interesting, but I don't actually have a routine so it's quite interesting enough as it is. At least "boring" isn't a word that in any way applies to my job.

We spent the weekend generally avoiding responsibility and opting instead to do things we wanted to do. I spent most of my time in the studio, working on revisions and later, doing some collage work, while Sal bottled his latest batch of beer and started a second batch of sauerkraut. Oh, it's a fermenting frenzy over here at Hall House. I know he's a qualified chef and everything, but there are days when I suspect he's just randomly sticking stuff in a jar to see what happens.

Now that the studio is finished (I know, I still need to get those pictures up), we're ready to get the attic eave closet doors done. Finally! And in fact the only reason they're getting done is because we won't be doing them, but rather, hiring someone to do them. Otherwise, we'd both be drawing Social Security before they'd get done. We got a personal recommend for a local carpenter who specializes in cabinetry. We've given him some leeway on the design so I'm excited to see how they turn out.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• Sal's Whatever's In The Fridge Soup -- chicken, Swiss chard, potatoes, carrots, onion, golden chiogga beets, celery, garlic, mushroom broth, oregano, thyme
• homemade ciabata and a Babybel cheese
• pineapple with pomegranate seeds as gap fillers
• cashews, dried cherries, and yogurt covered raisins

it's the simple things

In talking to Cat last night, we were discussing cake, and the craving thereof. (Cat, if you didn't know, is an amazing cook and baker, and her cakes are widely requested by anyone who's been lucky enough to enjoy a bite of one.) We talked about how even though we love the most fancy and deliciously concocted cakes (or any pastries, really), sometimes, the simplest desserts are the only thing that will satiate that craving.

She mentioned yellow cake with chocolate frosting and I might have pierced her ear drum when I squealed into the phone, "OMGMETOOTHATISMYFAVORITECOMBINATION". Seriously. when my birthday rolled around every year and I got to pick what cake I wanted for my day, it was always a yellow cake with a chocolate frosting that my mom made on the stove -- she poured it on while still kind of warm so it was almost like a glaze, and then when it cooled, it had a kind of hard shell.

And so now I've had that damn cake in my brain all day and am going to have to make it this weekend. This is not the biggest tragedy ever.

lunch, deli club:

• wraps -- cream cheese, herb roasted turkey breast, and pickle in a sun dried tomato tortilla
• molded egg with peas as gap fillers
• unpeeled satsuma with yogurt covered raisins as gap fillers

portlandia

We finally had a chance to watch Portlandia this weekend and omg I am in love. I'd already seen/heard the "Dream of the 90s (is alive in Portland)" vid all over the place, and snippets of some of the skits, so I knew ahead of time it was going to be pretty damn fabulous. Oh, but it's ever so much more fabulously Portlandic than I even hoped. And yes, "Dream of the 90s" is totally the Portland we know and love.

Shot here, using a mostly Portland cast and crew, it promises to be a hit at least in this little part of the USian TV market. And when they say it's shot here, they really mean it. For the skit about ordering chicken in the restaurant, when they go to the farm where it was raised, I kept telling Sal, "Wow, that really looks like Wealth Underground (our CSA)". More shots, and the more I kept saying, "I swear, that's got to be Wealth Underground." Sure enough, it is -- I guess I missed that post over the holiday. I don't know why, but recognizing the farm -- even more than recognizing all the other locales -- just upped the thrill factor to 11.

Anyway, check it out, especially if you're a local. You'll enjoy seeing our fair city get gently spoofed and fondly skewered, as well as local familiar faces and personalities mixing with more famous ones.

lunch, blue bunny and moons:

• Thai peanut chicken
• cheesy baked potato with broccoli
• satsumas and carrot sticks
• cashews and yogurt covered raisins, separated by a bit of orange dark chocolate.

one planet, one people

"The Egyptian people will take care of themselves. The Egyptian people will be the ones who will make the change. We are not waiting for help or assistance from the outside world, but what I expect from the outside world is to practice what you preach, is to defend the rights of the Egyptian to their universal values" - Mohamed ElBaradei, currently under house arrest.

Great goddamn, I am so proud of the courage of the Egyptian protesters, of what's happened and is still happening in Tunisia, what might be starting to happen in Syria, in Yemen. My heart and prayers are with them all, with their incredible courage and will for something more, something better even as they are assaulted with water cannons for protesting with prayer.

mr. wizard in the kitchen

Sal's currently on a fermenting bender. It started with a couple of heads of cabbage we needed to use up -- remember the soup from last week? -- and he's been meaning to make a batch of sauerkraut (blech) for awhile now. So some of the cabbage went into the soup and the rest into a big glass jar he uses for fermenting. More fridge cleaning and in went a couple of turnips and a few beets.

When our organics bin arrived Monday, he was beside himself to see what else he could stick in his mad science jar. "Celery root!" he exclaimed. Would I mind if he used it in his sauerkraut? Sure, okay. "Maybe some more turnips?" Well...okay. (Keep in mind the organics delivery is our produce for all meals unless we specifically go to the store, so we actually do use the things in it for, you know, dinner and stuff.) "Oh, and some carrots!" Hey, mister, I do need at least some things to eat. That guy and his food science obsessions....

Anyway, last night he talked me out of another beet (golden chioggas this time), a couple more turnips, and two rutabagas. (And I have until next week to to use the rainbow Swiss chard or he's sticking that in the jar, too.) He spent the next hour happily slicing things up and adding them in careful layers atop whatever crazy brew has fermented already. Aww, so cute.

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• wraps -- mozzarella in sun dried tomato tortillas
• Thai peanut chicken (originally roasted on skewers)
• carrots and broccolette (a cross between broccoli and Chinese kale)
• Minneola tangelo sections and Pink lady apple slices
• yogurt covered raisins with a piece of orange dark chocolate on the diagonal

not a bad life, all in all

We managed to be surprisingly productive in spite of ourselves this weekend. We woke up late Saturday morning not really wanting to do the things on our to-do list, but decided we'd work for an hour, just an hour, and call it good. Two hours later, the dishes were done and half the laundry was folded. Hey, you take your victories where you can get them.

It was a beautiful, beautiful day and not wanting to miss out on the first sunny day in more than a week, we decided to knock another thing off our list by making a trip to Portland Nursery to get replacement pots for the two shrubs on our front porch. See? We can be downright efficient when we have half a mind to be.

Portland Nursery, fortuitously enough, was having a sale on all their pots and we got an additional discount on one of the pots we chose that had a chip in the rim. Easy peasy. We found a new restaurant in the area to try for an early supper, and spent the last hours of the day snuggled up in a cozy pub, with a view out the window, a pint (for him), and a tasty meal. I love our life.

lunch, black strawberry box:

• stir fry -- beef, kale, spinach, carrots, red pepper, onion, broccoli, special sauce
• half jasmine rice, half short grain brown rice
• satsuma orange halves
• Rancho Royale apple chunk
• cashews and yogurt covered raisins

greater than the sum of the parts

We were both off from work yesterday -- OCI was closed for the holiday, I took a vacation day since our time off together is so rare -- so no bento yesterday. Since Sal was home, I was treated to him making dinner, which was both good and bad. Good, because obviously. Bad because it made me wish for the millionth time that we got to enjoy more meals together. But mostly good.

We had some cabbage to use up (mainly because I'm not a huge fan of cabbage, so I never think of things to use it in) so he asked me what I thought about a soup. Cabbage soup? Um, no. Well, he said, it would have potatoes (good) and some onion (also good), and hamburger (what?). Did that sound like something I would eat? Well frankly, no, but he's a chef and it's been many a meal that he's made for me with ingredients that sounded incredibly unappealing together or that I don't like much that he somehow does his magic cooking kung fu to and voila! Deliciousness. So I told him sure, I trusted that he'd make something better than what it sounded like and I'd at least try it.

Glad that I did. The soup that sounded unappealing (and probably doesn't look very tasty on camera, either) turned out quite yummy. Hearty and flavorful and not-cabbage-y at all. Just the thing for a gray, rainy day.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• Un-cabbage-y Cabbage Soup (cabbage, lean hamburger, red onion, new potatoes, beef broth, secret herbs and spices)
• peas and carrot sticks
• Jonagold apple quarters and a satsuma
• a bit of Sal's very special carrot cake (carrots, pineapple, coconut, raisins, and walnuts with a Swiss buttercream/cream cheese frosting)

honor guard

Earlier this morning, I happened to glance out the window and noticed a long stream of police cars with lights flashing on the St. Johns Bridge. So many, filling up the eastbound lane. I went out to the porch to see what was going on, hearing helicopters overhead and had a moment of dread -- don't let it be a jumper, I whispered to the universe. There's been enough sadness and death this week.

I saw that the line of emergency lights spanned the bridge, across the river and down Bridge Avenue leading up to the bridge, and further down Hwy 30 SB. And then I remembered that Rainier Police Chief Ralph Painter's memorial is today.

The little town of Rainier, Oregon is located just a little way up Hwy 30 from us, about 40 miles. You pass through it if you're headed to Astoria or are taking the Lewis & Clark Bridge across the Columbia to Longview.

Their police chief, Chief Ralph Painter, was shot and killed last week trying to disarm a violent man in a store. By all accounts he was a good and decent man and well-loved in a small, close-knit town. He had seven children and twelve grandchildren. He was a drummer and long-distance runner. He was thinking about retiring to teach new police cadets.

Law enforcement and emergency services personnel from all over the country and even Canada planned to come to his memorial service. The town quickly realized that there would be far too many people for their little town to accomodate, and the service was moved to the Chiles Center at the University of Portland, just a few miles from our house here in North Portland.

The processional included hundreds of police cars and motorcycles, fire trucks, and ambulances. Our postman came up the steps as I was on the porch and we watched together in silence. He wondered quietly if every police car and fire truck in the state was slowly making its way across the St. Johns Bridge. It sure looked like it.

Mark Twain supposedly said, "Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry." It's advice I think about often, and try to remember when I get caught up in my own pettiness. I fail more often than I succeed, but it's still advice I think is worth heeding. It seems Chief Ralph Painter thought so, too.

signs that it's been a long week

When we were visiting them at Christmas, Sister related a little story about the Fabulous Miss M having lost her temper the day before with her mom and, in searching for the worst thing she could think of to call Sister, angrily declared her a "Doodie poodie whack-a-noodie". As one does.

We laughed about it the whole time we were there and for the rest of vacation, it was a running joke between Sal and me. Then we both headed back to work and I forgot about it.

Until this morning, on my way to the office. Some jerk who'd been riding my butt since the 405 interchange sped up to pass me, then changed sharply back into my lane to take the same exit I was headed for, practically clipping the corner of my car and making me hit the break in alarm. It's a good thing my window and his weren't rolled down, because I'm pretty sure if he'd heard me bust out with an angry "Doodie poodie whack-a-noodie!", he would've laughed his jerk ass off.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• fettucine with marinara
• carrots and steamed broccoli
• satsuma and kiwi half; Sal's homemade mango gelees, chocolate caramels, and apricot-walnut nougat