hello asheville!

goodbye Portland, goodbye Bible

Bible, my almost-cat, was the hardest thing about saying goodbye. He came in on our last morning, kneading and purring and butting his head into our hands. I cannot send him postcards (tuna grams!?), I could not ask him if he'd like to go on a trip. We just had to say good-bye, as he warmed himself in the sun on our porch. Good-bye.

vista house

On the day of adventure with Lauren along the Columbia River Gorge, we stopped at Vista House. For the vista, of course.

the bird hut

Four rooms full of birds, squawking.


Bright colors and occasionally a coherent word or phrase, "Hello!" "Here, kitty kitty!"


"Feed me!"

andy and bax

The best Army/Navy store I have ever been in, with the most fantastically dressed mannequins. On Grand Avenue, Portland, Oregon.

waterfalls

Last days in Portland, full of the smell of fall and waterfalls. Went on an adventure with Lauren to explore the Columbia River Gorge. Drove through the rain to see Multnomah Falls, the mist from the water increasing the fog. Crossed over the river and into Washington to eat chili cheese dogs in a small cafe and wait out the rain.


Back on the trail hiking up switch backs, stopping along the way to admire birds and greenery. I like hiking with a biologist/ornithologist/botanist. Lots of moments to see the things you might otherwise huff and puff your way past. The rain continued, but was pleasant under the cover of towering firs and pines. Saw red beetles that looked like jewels, and flickers darting in and out of the trees. This was my favorite waterfall, a triad of misty water insubstantial yet so powerful, cutting rivulets through the rock.


Down the ridge, more switch backs, three jewel-beetles devouring a banana slug, a dog that looked like a fox trotting next to an old man. The last waterfall, one which you could walk under. Lauren had her pockets full of leaves to identify and a fistful of moss destined for a terrarium.

pumpkin patch

many small things

I have been doing a lot of small things I like but I have not been taking pictures. This is one of the interesting aspects of online public displays of how-cool-and-busy-I-am; sometimes I would rather just enjoy rafting down the Deschutes, bird watching at Sauvie Island, and cooking a fantastic meal without worrying about re-performing these actions for everyone else. So a brief selection of old photos and a news update.


Small things I like: rainier cherries in the height of july, the way fruit juices sink into the cutting board, throwing birthday parties for a friend.


Mount Hood from the top of the OHSU Aerial Tram. Paul and I are driving back across the country in less than two weeks, settling in Asheville, North Carolina. Good bye big mountains! Hello rolling green glory of the Smokies! Taking another cross-country trip reminds me that I have yet to recount our first adventure here, the epic five week journey from Brooklyn to Portland. Perhaps the two trip tales will overlap, a sort of temporal concordance of coincidence. Maybe I'll just keep them safe and tangible, in my paper journal.


The sunflower runt toppled last week after a particularly windy day, probably due to the explosion of blooms that must have weighed heavily upon it. We massacred it into five massive bouquets, which leave yellow pollen trails about the house. At the height of it's glory it had over fifty flowers and brushed the rain gutters.

the runt, again

After two days of ninety degree heat.

cantalope

Will we be able to eat it before we move to Asheville?

the sunflower runt

When we moved to Portland, we knew we wanted space for growing things. Everyone here gardens in their yard; flower beds full of artichokes, window boxes bristling with basil. We built two raised beds, one four feet by nine feet, one four feet by seven feet. We planted lots of vegetables and herbs, and some sunflowers.


The sunflowers we grew from seed and planted in the front bed to be posts for our pole beans to climb. (It worked quite well until the heat wave charred the beans). There was a runt, a little seedling slightly crooked and drooping, that we planted in the backyard just to see what would happen, expecting nothing.


The runt is now a massive tree, which shades Bible as he lounges about. It is twelve feet high and at this moment has at least thirty blooms. It leans slightly but looks stable. The stalk is a good three inches around. I can smell the flowers from the kitchen window. So much for runts.

monster cukes

You leave for ten days...


and the cucumbers take on a life of their own.

love soup

When Paul and I were a-courting, he made me a picnic of vichyssoise with heavy creme and chopped scallions under a flowering tree, and it is our love soup.


He made it for me again, after a hard day's work, while I soaked in the bathtub reading Ursula K. Le Guin.


This time with love and bacon.

farmers and fleas

shake shack

For breakfast yesterday: shack burger with extra pickles, cheese fries, and root beer on a park bench on 77th and Columbus.

new york, new york

goodbye pickles

The night before we left Portland for our grand return to New York, New York, we made some pickles to have pickling in our absence. The cucumbers we've culled from the garden over the last few weeks were left soaking while we assembled the requisite garlic, dill, sea salt, and peppercorns.


Into the bucket they go, swimming in a lovely brine, to be resting under a dinner plate in our basement.


When we return it will be time for jarring and crunching and munching and perhaps some large pastrami sandwiches.

hula hoop

laughing chicken

Dinner tonight at Laughing Planet on Belmont. Met this nice chicken through the patio fence. Bahgak!


Burrito consumed so quickly it could not be caught on film. Before enjoyed fresh squeezed carrot apple juice and grinning dinosaur.

impromptu bbq

Another beautiful bbq yesterday, with Eve doing some excellent cookery. I gathered flowers from the yard; these strange lilac-like beauties, our bereft sunflowers, the lone day lily. Before we played in Laurelhurst park, Eve set to sitting some lovely fresh tomato sauce. Five large, meaty tomatoes from the farmer's market on Saturday, bunches of basil pinched from the garden, garlic, olive oil, sea salt and peppercorns all chopped and left to set in the shade for the afternoon.


The chicken thighs relaxed in a lemon herb bath while I hung laundry, awash in parsley, thyme, and rosemary from the garden. Eve sliced crookneck squash and peeled cucumbers (also garden grown) for a little salt bath, destined to be mixed with a luciously ripe cantalope in a lemon-yogurt dressing, topped with minced garden spearmint.


The guacamole was ritualistically chopped and almost instantly consumed.


More basil was sacrificed, alongside fresh mozzarella and some tomatoes borrowed from the pasta sauce.


Lisa provided a large red pepper for the roasting, and so it was. The fire was lit, the chicken charred, the beer disappeared, and everyone was happy.

labyrinth

Went to see The Labyrinth last night at the Bagdad. After a good hour of horrible Peter Gabriel videos, it finally arrived - David Bowie's crotch and a torrent of nostalgia. I was one of those kids that lived on this movie, that and The Wizard of Oz where essential to my upbringing.


My favorite character by far is the Worm. 'ello!

on saturday

I usually like to do my laundry, scrub the bathtub, and make copious amounts of food. To be followed by bubble baths and books and tea. I failed in all of these things today, struck down by an evil toddlerfeverbug. Mostly I pouted about. Here are some pictures of a couple Saturdays ago, where I managed to do more.


Like grind up the gargantuan zucchinis from my garden with chunks of chocolate into the most moist delicious cupcakes ever.


The zucchini was so large that it also provided enough bounty for my first ever successful batch of zucchini pancakes. Paul and I have tried on multiple occasions, using various methods, to get our damn zucchini cakes to stick together. This time I used pure instinct, egg, breadcrumbs, and parmesan.


And enjoyed the bounty outside, amidst my drying laundry.

living outside

Had the pleasure of good old friends this past Sunday, passing through on the tail end of a grand adventure.


Also had the pleasure of Portland friends, the backyard, nice weather...


guacamole and cheese and hard salami...


copious amounts of fresh vegetables...


and Bible was there, of course.


Fire and living outside and summer.