etsy gems #1

Some pretty products that caught my eye today:

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=25328482
Silver Hammered Bangles
ES Designs

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=24937855
Squirrel Love Wedding Cake Topper
Middleburg

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=25261146
Printemps Photograph
Alicia Bock


http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=25249497
Floating Flower Earrings
Fleur Fatale

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=25124219
Eat Your Peas Print
Amber Alexander


http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=25228415
Coral Poppy Clutch
Ruby Red Rose

scotch

I had been meaning for us to check out the well-liked “Angel’s Rest” hike in the Columbia River Gorge for at least 2 years. Something would always come up, but we finally got up early enough on Sunday to hit the road by 9:30am. We grabbed breakfast on the go and made the fairly short drive down the 84E, along the sparkling Columbia. Jesse had made a special mix CD for the occasion (which I have decided to title “Sweaty Angels Like to Sing”). We listened to old favorites from Muse, Jem, Modest Mouse and Citizen Cope while cruising down the freeway, the smells of river and wildflowers and forest seeping into the car.

The 2.2 mile trail to the top begins with an immediate moderate ascent which quickly turns into inclined switchbacks. The path was busy with hikers of all ages and dogs of all breeds (including a poodle). We passed waterfalls, churning brooks and fields of pretty purple flowers, which I heard someone identify as Columbine. I eventually realized that my lungs were noticeably suffering because I was trying to hike uphill at the same breakneck pace at which I walk on flat ground. Once we slowed a bit, things became much more comfortable and despite the sweat gathering beneath my backpack (and forming salt grains in my hair) I was able to muster mostly-genuine smiles for the individuals we passed.

We finally reached the top and spent a while exploring the rocky bluff of Angel’s Rest. The views of the Columbia beneath us were lovely and the slight breeze at that altitude was much appreciated.

We followed the same path back down to our car, this trip working muscles opposite of those that had been enslaved on the way up. I was pleasantly surprised as I sneezed and was greeted with a friendly “bless you!” upon rounding a sharp corner. We got back to the car in no time and drove on the back scenic road toward Multnomah Falls – which were a horrible, utter madhouse that we were not going to visit (this trip) no matter how gorgeous the weather or how refreshing the water.

We made the short trip to Hood River, Oregon, a favorite spot of ours that is generally only accessible (in our vehicle anyway) in the summer. We had lunch on the patio of the Big Horse Brewing Company, just a few feet away from a delightful group of rowdy, low-tact bikers on one side and a man who didn’t want his two dogs to stand, smile, drool or look in the wrong direction on the other side. Jesse complimented me on my “running social commentary.” I’ll try to keep quiet next time. Not.

We also made a quick, excruciatingly hot visit to the Full Sail Brewery, where we sat in direct sunlight on their deck and watched kite boarders flying into the air in the distance. I had a tiny beer, saving room for the ice cream cones that were to come next. Jesse went with a scoop of fresh banana and one of pistachio, while I chose black walnut and red raspberry cheesecake. Fantastic! We sat beneath a lovely dogwood tree and watched myriad cute children slurp ice cream and have discussions with one another. It was the most wonderful weekend, a good reward for my week of hard work. My mind is buzzing with new ideas for the weekends to come.

olive tree

Saturday’s beautiful weather prompted me to queue up some Motown music on Pandora and clean our patio, in preparation for warm nights spent lounging outside while corn on the cob and steak sizzle on the grill.




















Jesse finished up at work early and we headed for this year’s Alberta Art Hop in the northeast part of Portland. The festival stretched for blocks, white tents shielding local artists for as far as we could see. The art wasn’t overwhelmingly wonderful, but the wide variety of musical performers made me very happy. They were set just far enough apart that the calm notes of a single cello didn’t interfere with the lively funk music, and the funk didn’t interfere with the two guys playing drums and guitar in a vacant parking lot. One man sporting sunglasses played a saxophone while tap dancing on a wood pallet. A young, happy looking kid played guitar and sang a song about many different kinds of laughter (not my favorite).

I have to declare a tie for my favorite overall element of the Art Hop. First was the homemade “Free Advice” booth, manned by a seemingly thoughtful guy who was counseling a person wearing a bike helmet. But then there was the remarkably tiny dog that looked like some kind of ancient cat fish from Asia.

Though we had shared a deliciously messy pulled pork sandwich with extra barbeque sauce (and a side of mac salad that didn’t quite compare to what we sampled in Rochester last summer), we had to hit up The Grilled Cheese Grill once we were finished walking around. We both opted for the tasty “BABS” – toasted rye bread filled with Swiss and bleu cheeses, bacon and slices of green apple. Upon ordering we were given a baseball card rather than the usual numbered plaque. We waited at a shaded picnic table for the sweet words “Dickie Thon, your order is ready” to ring through the air.

popsicle

On Friday and Saturday, my chi dipped to dangerously low levels. Fortunately, Jesse had registered us for an indoor rock climbing instruction class at Stoneworks Climbing Gym in Beaverton on Sunday afternoon. If it weren’t for that commitment, I may have remained in bed all day, sulking.

A sleepy, bored-looking canine princess named Paris greeted us upon our arrival at the very nearby rock gym. We were given very snug climbing shoes and were independently relieved when the expected third class participant failed to show up; a private couple’s lesson – sweet! I didn’t start to feel nervous about this venture until our short-statured, overly bulging bicep-laden instructor started climbing across the walls like Spiderman. I’m not the strongest girl in town, you know?

We first learned how to “boulder,” which is moving more-or-less horizontally across the artificial rock features bolted to the wall. This technique depends on several key movements, which are somewhat difficult to engage all at the same time. Feet wide and balanced, hands only on the features marked with pink tape, hips in toward the wall, arms out straight, hang low, push with your legs, push with your legs.

Next we moved on to the more complicated and more dangerous “top roping.” This style incorporates a climber attached to one end of a rope which is run through a pulley system and attached to another individual who serves as the “belayer,” or guardian of life. Jesse climbed first and I was given strict training on the many safety elements of operating the belay. Then we switched and I had to climb up the massive wall into the reaches of outer space. This was challenging. I’m not overly height-phobic, but I had to calm myself by thinking “don’t look down, don’t look down.” I couldn’t quit…I had two athletic guys watching me. I reached the top and Jesse lowered me back to the ground. We were certified and set out on our own.

Go figure, Jesse was an enviable natural, clamoring to be hooked up to the climber’s rope and scaling more and more difficult routes. On rare occasion he would need a break from climbing and would let go of the wall while 20 feet up. His weight would pull him downward a short distance, meaning my body, attached to other end of his rope, would rocket upwards and forward into the hard, craggy surface in front of me. Good fun.

For my efforts I was rewarded with a long-awaited platter of vegetarian lasagna and spaghetti with brown butter and mizithra cheese from The Old Spaghetti Factory. Somewhat embarrassingly I used to work there and I developed a fairly serious addiction to their succulent yet affordable pasta.

We got home and set out on a sunset bike ride, savoring the last warm hour of the day. We discovered, of all things, a nun cemetery within a block of our house. Also nearby we found a paved bike path running through a relaxing, leafy quarter that seemed much removed from the bustle of the nearby highway. It was a lovely, renewing Sunday.

bite

When Jesse asked if I wanted to go on a date Wednesday (which I deemed “Seiso de Mayo”), I expected a return to one of our favorite, comfortable hangouts like the Hall Street Grill in Beaverton or even Mama Mia in downtown Portland. Instead, while I drove, he directed me away from Beaverton and across the Willamette River to the Northeast part of Portland.

I parked, as instructed, on a block lined with modern, yet inviting buildings housing restaurants and toy stores. We walked up to the door of Lincoln Restaurant, which I had never even heard of before. (Turns out Jesse had read about this place in Conde Nast Traveler magazine while waiting to submit his passport application earlier in the day. The article can be found here.)

Upon entering, a table of four people right behind the host desk turned excitedly to look at me. Jesse slid delicately out of the way and overheard one of them exclaim “Jen!” Mm, no. The host led us to a booth tucked into a cozy corner of the bar as I cursed my universally recognizable appearance. Huge windows exposed the huge sky scattered with tumultuous, crawling clouds. The sky isn’t always so big in Portland.

Practically every item on Lincoln’s small menu sounded delectable, but with our server’s assistance we decided on sharing the Mizuna and tatsoi salad with grapefruit, fennel and pine nuts. Jesse ordered the Lamb leg and loin chop with corona beans, rosemary and arbequena olive oil and I went with the Hanger steak with blue cheese butter and onion rings. This was a dream date. Jesse talked about the importance of taking time to enjoy the present moment, something with which I have great difficulty. I sipped my “El Diablo” and let the residual tension of the long day dissipate.



The salad was fresh, bright and so satisfying I decided I could absolutely eat one every day. My entrée arrived (I had only a 1.3 mega pixel cell phone camera to record the dish’s splendor) and I eagerly stacked a cornmeal battered onion ring on a blue cheese butter-drenched, exquisitely cooked piece of steak. Bliss. If only I could have been anticipating this meal throughout the day. As much as it pained me, I consumed every last morsel of steak on my plate, save the 3 carefully arranged bites I shared with Jesse. Though I personally could not bear to think about eating dessert, we ordered the chocolate espresso cake for the road. I can’t wait to come back.

hau'oli

The book I'm reading says those who notice coincidences are generally more optimistic. I had two coincidences today. The first was when I announced to my coworker that I was going to walk across the building to deliver a check to another coworker (I have about 550 coworkers). I didn't actually get the announcement out of my mouth before the woman to whom I was going to deliver the check walked through the door to my office.

The second, less impressive coincidence was that after talking to my sister, who was babysitting a 10-month old child named Jeremiah, I got in my car and turned to the oldies station, which was playing "Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog."

I decided to assist my optimism by crafting a happy night at home.


Oregon was outside disintegrating under hard, violent rain. I made the waffles I had been craving all day. I had a Kona Wailua Wheat. I took a shower and put on my favorite pajamas. I'm thinking about Arizona, tattoos, weddings, puppies, paper, cooking and rock climbing on Mother's Day.

photobooth

I got to avoid work Friday because I had signed up for a day of training on Volunteer Management downtown. I was happy to get out the door on time and catch the MAX I had hoped to catch. Somehow it's easier to be punctual when routine is broken. I rode to Portland and decided to grab a cup of coffee before trying to find the building in the Pearl District where the training was to be held.

I decided to hit up Stumptown Coffee next to the delightfully hip Ace Hotel. I took a place in the substantial line and eyed the fantastic bready pastries on display. Then Ethan Suplee, Randy from "My Name is Earl", walked in the door and asked if I was the last in line. He moved behind me and launched a conversation about my camera, which was hanging from my neck.

A fun way to start the day! (I just found out he's a Scientologist.)

I got my coffee and prized three-berry brioche and headed towards the Pearl. My coffee splashed wildly while I walked, threatening to drench and ruin my afore-mentioned camera.

I found the EcoTrust building after just a moment of fear that I was lost and was going to be late for the 8:30am training. I had never been inside before, and I was immediately taken by the quirky, nature-inspired, very-Portland architecture and interior design. The lobby was open and light, and the walls were decorated with pleasing art and installments. Nearly every surface was a different texture, color, material. I took a couple short walks around the space during breaks and tried to document the variety.

The training was long but informative. It was somewhat difficult to sit in the same room all day and to have to interact with so many strangers (i.e. "Walk around the room and when you come upon someone you haven't met, say Hello, my name is ___ and the worst meeting I ever attended was ___."). I was happy when 4:00pm rolled around and I could venture back out into the warm, busy streets of downtown Portland. As someone who never runs into anyone I know in public (because my social circle is so minuscule), I was surprised to cross paths with a friend from a printmaking class I took months ago. Then another friend happened to board the same packed-full MAX car I was riding. Unusual.

The day concluded with a small barbecue. My friend Sara came over and Jesse cooked steaks, asparagus and corn on the cob for dinner. We discovered our socially inept freak-out cat, Oliver, hiding silently in our bathtub and Jesse was able to get a nice Polaroid photo. It was a strange day, somewhat trying, but ultimately relaxing and hinting of the summer that's just around the corner.