on losing a bet

Because I lost a bet, I had to pack a bento for a coworker.

My friend and co-worker Tony, who has worked at my company almost as long as I have, rides his bike to work every day. Because of Sal's passion for biking, and his own impressive work commute, I've picked up a lot about the whole lifestyle of being a cyclist in a car culture (and more specifically, being a cyclist in Portland's very active cyclist culture), which means that it's one of the topics Tony and I talk about when we're avoiding work bored picking on each other chit chatting in the midst of being totally productive and not in any way wasting time.

It was during one of these totally productive and work-related conversations that I said that I thought that the saddlebags Sal uses are bigger than the ones Tony uses. Even though he's never seen them, Tony said they weren't, that they only make one size. Call it the sibling nature of our relationship, but next thing we know, we're betting on who's right. WHAT CAN I SAY IT WAS A MORE PRODUCTIVE DAY THAN USUAL.

At stake: two Green & Black's chocolate and almond bars if I win, a bento packed by me if he wins. And because he's an accountant down to his very DNA, and the importance of precision and accuracy were drilled into me by my engineering professors -- which means we are both monumental nerds -- we proceeded to very carefully measure the dimensions of his saddlebag, each of us verifying the reading of the ruler and making careful notes, along with stipulations as to exactly where the measurements were taken along the body of the saddlebag. I WASN'T KIDDING ABOUT THE PRECISION AND ACCURACY PART OKAY.

I brought Sal's bag in the following week and we performed the same measurements. Even though Tony said when I brought it in, "Well obviously it's the same size. I won't humiliate you by measuring it." And I was all, "Respect the rules of the bet, yo." Besides, my ME professor would have my hide if he knew I hadn't verified my measurements.

So I lost the bet. In the meantime, he had ordered his very first bento box thanks to that presentation I did a couple of months ago. And when it arrived, he announced that the first lunch to be packed in it, the inaugural bento, as it were, would be the one I packed to discharge my bet obligation. NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING. But also: awww.

Tony's lunch, Concorde XL:

• salmon cakes
• sushi rice with green beans and carrot shapes for garnish
• corn as gap filler
• stir fry mixed veggies (green beans, onions, red pepper, broccoli, mushroom)
• carrot sticks as baran
• part of a Pink Lady apple, and raspberries and blueberries picked from our own bushes!
• strawberry Pocky

my lunch, purple bento colors

• salmon cakes
• sushi rice with carrot shapes for garnish
• steamed broccoli
• part of a Pink Lady apple with corn as gap filler
• Rainier cherries with raspberries and blueberries
• strawberry Pocky

It was a real challenge to fill such a large box (900 mL), especially for someone whose dietary needs are much different than mine. I stuck more closely to the 3:2:1 guideline than I do for mine, We'll see if it ends up being enough for him....

it's a hole-in-the-sock sort of day

My day started out behind. I extended the snooze just a little too long, fumbled the cats' food a bit necessitating some cleanup that cost me soem time, and even my hair seemed downright uncooperative. Nonetheless, I managed to mostly catch up by the time I started getting dressed.

But as I put on my black dress socks, I discovered a hole the size of Saskatchewan right smack in the middle of it. Not in the heel or toe, nor even along the top where I've put holes before from being a little too vigorous pulling them up. But right there, smack in the middle of my shin. So weird.

It was fortunate in a way, since it's in a spot that can't be seen. And anyway, I didn't have time to run upstairs and rummage for another pair (where I would've likely pulled out a pair of dark blue ones and then looked like a dork all day). But I sat there for a moment, contemplating whether it was a sign that the deck was stacked against me today and it might just be best to go back upstairs and crawl under the covers.

And that sock seems to be the metaphor for my day: everything looks fine, but underneath, something's a little bit off in a weird way. And even though I know no one else can see it, I know it's there, and it's just going to bug me all damn day until I can get home and dispose of it.

lunch, French bistro:

• pepperoni and smoked mozzarella in a sun dried tomato wrap
• steamed broccoli
• corn
• dried cherries

fifteen

Fresh, homegrown raspberries, picked at midnight. This is how you know someone loves you, even after 15 years.Yesterday marked fifteen years that we've been married.

Fifteen years of anything is an accomplishment, and fifteen years of marriage is a major one, but fifteen years since Sal and Brittney became a "we" and an "us" and a "them" has felt like the blink of a second and infinity at the same time, both in the best ways possible.

In fifteen years, you can:

• Complete an earthly rotation 5,479 times.
• Watch The Lord of the Rings Special Extended Edition trilogy on DVD non-stop 11,565 times.
• Drive from Portland to the Oregon Coast and back 45,658 times.
• Brew 21,916 batches of beer.
• Spend 10,958 hours writing.
• Write seven and a half books with a 251,062 word count. Unless you're me, in which case you will write one book with a 251,062 word count and then spend the same amount of time you spent writing it trying to figure out how to reduce it by 20%.
• Vote in four presidential elections. And seriously consider Canadian citizenship after two of them.
• Pack 3,900 bento lunches for work.
• Be halfway through your 30-year mortgage.
• Log 104,101 miles commuting to and from work on your bike.
• Celebrate 30 birthdays for two exceptionally long-lived cats.
• Create 390 weekly art journal pages.
• Say "I love you" 65,748 times.

lunch, Lunchbots Duo:

• hardboiled egg
• wee red potatoes
• steamed broccoli
• carrot sticks (with more underneath the silicone cups)
• honey peanut butter for the carrots
• fresh-picked raspberries from the bushes in our garden

i, for one, welcome our google overlords

Sal and I have been trying out Google+ this last week, and while it may be too soon yet to say what its prospects are, I think I'm in love. For still being in beta, it's remarkably intuitive and I love, love, love the additional benefits if you have a Droid, because omg so seamlessly integrated. They have a long way to go yet before Google+ can pose any kind of threat to Facebook, but this feels like the next evolution of living online. (I would even make the case that it's a more natural evolution living online than Facebook has been. I'm admittedly biased, but Google's primary focus has always been on the user experience and it shows in the way Google+ is set up. Facebook's focus is different, obviously, since their client isn't the user, but I suspect if Google+ manages to a measurable success, Facebook will be forced to reexamine its focus and make at least some adjustments.)

Now, if I can just incorporate New Seasons grocery delivery into it somehow, I will be one happy girl. (RIP, New Seasons online grocery ordering and delivery....)

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• still working on that crockpot stew -- potatoes, carrot, onion, celery, kale, fava beans, roast pork
• broccoli, carrots, cherries
• plum sections
• cashews and dark chocolate covered raisins with dried mango as baran

an azure depth, a wordless tune

the view from Cape Meares on a sunny, windless dayContinuing with recounting our vacation adventures, though it took a little longer than anticipated....

After leaving our cabin at Oceanside, we made the requisite stop at Cape Meares. It never gets old no matter how many times we go, but the weather was particularly nice and there was no wind, which is significant up on the bluff where the lighthouse is located. Sal hiked down to the lighthouse again, but I opted to stay behind on a bench overlooking the cliffs to read while I listened to the birds. I didn't end up reading much, but the meditation of sea and sky was what I was really after anyway.

We didn't have to go home right away so we decided to head north on 101 and come back on 26, since we hadn't been up that way in awhile and there was a coffee shop Sal wanted to visit in Cannon Beach. (One of his former students recommended it, and they grind their own beans, so.) It was perfect weather for the drive, clear and temperate, and since it was a weekday, traffic was light (versus the summer weekends, when it can suck mightily). Up through Rockaway Beach, Nehalem Bay, and Wheeler.  We took a lazy drive through Manzanita, happening upon a darling cottage that happens to be for sale and made my heart go pitter pat even though it doesn't have a view of the ocean. Then up Neahkahnie Mountain to one of the viewpoints to take a few pictures, the wind calm and the sky blue and clear.

Arcadia Beach, among the pics added to our vacation gallerySoon we were at Arcadia Beach, our old stomping ground. We used to make day trips to this beach pretty regularly before we started doing overnight stays at Oceanside, but haven't been back in awhile. It was like seeing an old friend, standing on the bluff overlooking the beach, and we decided we should resume those occasional day trips, because this was our ocean home, too, the place we made our own when we first got to Oregon, and a piece of us will always be there.

Then it was on to Cannon Beach. Traffic and tourists usually make Cannon Beach a place we avoid, but as I said, it was a weekday and neither the traffic nor the tourists were significant. So we had a lovely little drive through town. Unfortunately the place we were looking for was closed, but we found a wonderful bakery not far away. It was the perfect place for an afternoon treat -- pastries and coffee/hot chocolate -- before heading home.

After an evening to relax and a night in our own bed once again, we were ready for our Day of Portland. This has become our summer vacation ritual, that we dedicate a full day to just knocking around our beautiful city as if we were tourists. Except, you know, awesome. We don't have a rigid plan, just a list of sites we want to see, restaurants/food places we want to try, and shops to visit. The list is always longer than we could manage in a week, let alone a day, but it gives us lots of things to choose from as the mood strikes us.

Peninsula ParkThis year's was more of an itinerary than in previous years, thanks to a map of ideas Sal sweetly put together. First, was a stop at Chop (shows up as Tasty & Sons on the map because it's in the back) for fresh sandwiches and other necessities for a picnic. Then we headed to Peninsula Park to enjoy it all.

Peninsula Park has an extensive rose garden on one end, just there and open to the public. No gates, no fences, just a gorgeous manicured garden with a fountain at its center and benches all around for people to enjoy. How incredible is that?

It's beautiful any time (especially summer and fall), but the day could not have been more perfect, which made it wonderful for a picnic. And for a stroll afterwards, with of course lots of flowers for sniffing and taking pictures of.

Because he's incredibly thoughtful, Sal remembered that I've always wanted to stop at the Beverley Cleary Sculpture Garden, so he included a little side trip to Grant Park. We took a stroll through the park and sat for a bit at a table near the statues of Ramona, Ribsy, and Henry Huggins while kids played in the fountains that are part of the sculptures.

the Burnside Bridge with the Steel Bridge behind it, taken from the Eastbank EsplanadeThen we were on to the Eastbank Esplanade for another stroll -- there was a lot of strolling taking place on our day of Portland -- up the river a bit. It happened to be the first day of the Waterfront Blues Festival across the way at Waterfront Park, which meant lots of people, as well as boats and yachts all anchored near the shoreline to hear the music. Lots and lots of people, since summer basically exploded all at once that day after months and months of no spring and summer.

And because we really haven't had a spring or summer, I wasn't in the habit of remembering sunscreen. Which meant that I had a pretty snazzy sunburn happening by the time we finally headed home. Thankfully, we'd spent as much time in the shade at various parks as we'd spent in the sun, so it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. But I definitely got an overdose that had me a little too pink for a week or so.

For the rest of our vacation, we simply enjoyed being at home with the good weather, all the windows open and making the most of the yard (FINALLY) being fit for civilized people. We read books on the porch swing, played in the studio, brewed some beer, wrote some more chapters, took late afternoon naps, watched movies, and just generally relaxed for a few days before it was time to jump into the routine again. That's the nice thing about making your home your castle: you don't have to go anywhere to get away from it all.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• crockpot stew -- potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, kale, fava beans, roast pork
• steamed broccoli
• cherries, cashews, dried mango, and dark chocolate covered raisins

title taken from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickenson, Part Two: Nature, "LXIII"

sisyphus is my homeboy

Just last week, we were here. Sigh.Why is it that coming back from vacation entails working extra hard just to turn the piles on one's desk from "OMG ON FIRE SRSLY SOMEONE GET A HOSE" to "does anyone else smell smoke"? Oy.

Joking aside, it hasn't been as bad as I feared, and even the damage in my email inbox wasn't so bad. For relative values of bad, obviously -- when you're used to several dozen emails per day, a few hundred emails piled up while you were on vacation is a downright miracle. Boulder, mountain, etc. etc.

Sal's return from vacation coincided with the start of a new group of students, which has made it easier for him to ease back into work, as well. So we haven't suffered as much as we might have otherwise from that unpleasant malaise that usually sets in when vacation is over and it's time to get back to the regular routine. Oh, we're still looking forward to our next getaway with relish, I won't lie. But not counting down the minutes hours days or anything.

(Okay, maybe I'm lying a little bit.)

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• Thai BBQ chicken skewers
• steamed broccoli
• jasmine rice with fresh sugar snap peas (and a bit of teriyaki in the little condiment cup to add a bit of flavor)
• carrot sticks
• cashews and dark chocolate covered raisins with a bit of dried mango as baran

brought to you by the letters o and m and g

I only got a few more bites past this before I had to concede defeat.This post comes to you from beyond the grave.

I sat down last night after dinner, while waiting for dessert, to write (or start to write) a post about the last few days of vacation in all their vacationy glory. Because these last few days have been glorious, oh yes, and there are pictures to show and adventures to tell.

But as I began, Sal brought in the dessert he'd made for us, and set a plate before me at my desk. And you guys? I don't even...I mean, the human capability for language is insufficient to describe the utter divinity of what he placed before me.

We had peaches to use up, and some cherries from our bin, so he decided yesterday afternoon to make peach-cherry handpies to top off our magnificent little Independence Day feast. A Feast for the Fourth for Two, if you will. What started out as an intention to make multiple hand pies became only two massive half-pies, or as he called them, monster hand pies. Which, I guess is true if the monster in question has hands the size of dinner plates.

So as I said, he placed before me, still oh-so-dreamy-warm-from-the-oven, a ginormous half circle of pastry, all golden brown flaky wonderfulness and crystal sparkled with a light dusting of sugar and summer-drenched fruity warmth. And though I had no hope whatsoever of eating the thing entire, I knew it would be a blissful death in the attempt. And so. And so.

And so this is why there is not a post today to tell you the great tales of the last of our vacation. Because yesterday, I died a a death of sweet deliciousness and that was the end of me. It'll come soon, once I've been brought back by whatever supernatural culinary ritual Sal decides on for dinner tonight. But in the meantime, I'll die another little death at lunch with a small piece of that heavenly pie in my bento.

lunch, bento colors purple

• chicken skewers in thai peanut and thai bbq sauces; jasmine rice with fresh sugar snaps (shelled by me!) underneath the chicken
• carrots and more sugar snaps in their pods
• cherries and a bit of the aforementioned peach-cherry pie

when the salt and blue fill a circle of horizons

the sun finally appears at the end of a grey dayTonight is the last night of our Summer 2011 vacation at Oceanside. We'll be back in a few months in the fall, and we've been doing this seasonal Oceanside vacation thing for years now, but it never gets any easier to leave.

And I do mean years. As we were unloading our stuff when we arrived at the cabins, one of the proprietors was returning from a walk with a new employee. I was in the cabin putting things away as Sal was coming up the steps with the last load of stuff, and I heard her greet Sal warmly, then introduce him to the new person. "This is Salvatore," she said. "One of our regulars. You'll see him and his wife every three months. Like seasons."

sunlight on the cliffsExcept this year -- we skipped our March/April visit to save up so we could take the Olympic Peninsula trip for Sal's birthday. She noticed, too. When I went to check in a little later*, she remarked that they'd missed seeing us this spring. It's nice to be known like that. To be someone's regular.

*The front office was empty when we arrived. But we come so often that they just leave the cabin to our door unlocked knowing we'll check in at some point. Which is why we were able to start unloading the car and get settled in before they got back.

our vacation spot is so awesome it includes a tunnel to a secret beachWe had mostly gray sky for this trip, and a whole day of rain today, but it was comfortably temperate, warm enough that we could keep the windows open day and night without getting chilled. And we did get several hours on the beach despite the intermittent sun, with little wind. Enough to get a bit of sunburn, even. And today, which was rainy until late in the evening, we squeezed in a pleasant stroll on the sand. We snapped some pics and even made a short jaunt through the tunnel to the secret beach on the other side of the promontory before the tide got too high.

ending in sunburstOther highlights: continuing our tradition of starting a new show, which we watch once it gets dark and we're eating a late dinner or snack; starting a special book saved for the occasion -- The Wise Man's Fear, in my case, which I've been waiting for more than three months to begin and that's a testament to willpower, people, because goddamn, this series is brilliant; afternoon naps with the window open and the sound and smell of the ocean as we fall asleep; Sal's homemade cookies and orange chocolate chip scones; and of course our special crockpot roast stew, which no matter how many times we make it at home never tastes quite the same as it does at the coast.

But then, I guess that's true of a lot of things.

title taken from "North Atlantic" by Carl Sandburg

these good days make us wealthy beyond measuring

We are two* days into vacation and I am already brainstorming ways to become independently wealthy so that we can do this all the time. We win at recreation.

*(Three for me, since I took Friday off, as well. Sal had to work but it was an end-of-semester day, which meant he didn't have to go in until 10 and was home by 4. So half a day for him, really.)

Taking advantage of Sal actually being home on a Friday night, and the newly-arrived nice weather, we headed to the new HUB Bikebar. (Note, that's a bike bar, not a biker bar. As in, bi-, not motor-.) It's nice having a Hopworks closer to the house (especially on Williams, since that area is just awesome anyway) and this one has a more neighborhood feel than restaurant feel. We snagged a seat on the patio and talked about the last few weeks while we ate.

Sal headed to the Organic Brewers' Festival yesterday over at Overlook, while I spent the day in the studio, working on two new art journal spreads. In the evening, we went to Amnesia Brewing so we could again sit outside and enjoy a casual dinner in another one of our favorite neighborhoods. And even though they didn't offer lemonade, the bartender concocted one for me on the spot. And a damn tasty one at that.

Then we decided we wanted to finally try Salt & Straw (in yet another neighborhood we love) after talking about it forever; unfortunately, we didn't have much cash with us so we had to share a cup instead of each getting our own. Sal, ever the gentleman, allowed me to pick the flavor. I of course went with the salted caramel.

There are some new shops and restaurants since we were there last, so we wandered as we took turns eating our ice cream. And managed to withstand the temptation of Collage as we sauntered by, if only because they were closed. We did not, however, withstand the temptation of Petite Provence. We emerged laden with a sophisticated bakery box of tarts and treats.

Today was the Sunday Parkways, in which the city closes down a bunch of streets in a part of town for the whole day, and people can take over the spaces for neighborhood parties and bike riding and impromptu basketball games and whatever else they want to do without having to worry about cars. It was North Portland's turn this month, and the network of streets that were closed connected a bunch of neighborhood parks, all of which had activities going on to make the most of the day. Combined with the aforementioned newly-arrived nice weather, it meant there were A LOT of people out (ETA: it was officially the largest turnout since the Parkways began), and it was just generally all the best things about Portland on a sunny June day.

So vacation has started off with a bang, and will continue into awesomeness. Tonight we did a bit of cooking and baking in preparation for a few days at Oceanside. (NOTE TO POTENTIAL THIEVES AND/OR BURGLARS: We have a housesitter and very alert neighbors so don't even bother.) We cleaned out New Seasons of basically every good thing to eat in stock -- INCLUDING OMG AN ENTIRE FLAT OF HOODS OMG SRSLY DELAYED STRAWBERRY SEASON HAS COINCIDED NICELY WITH OUR VACATION Y/Y? -- so we will not be in danger of starving. It's a real worry, you know.

Anyway, we'll get up to our usual shenanigans at the coast and then we'll see what other trouble we can get ourselves into when we get back. And I might just come up with a way to make every day a vacation day....

god forbid i ever run into nathan fillion

another new box, but this one isn't really my faultSo here's a little story about how the internet is awesome.

In a neat timing of coincidence, I received an email from the founder(!) of Lunchbots on the same day I did my bento presentation at work. She was writing to tell me that she liked the lunches I'd put together using the Lunchbot Duo and wondered if they could post one of the pics on their Facebook page.

I may have squealed in nerdy delight.

It was kind of like running into a celebrity at the coffee shop. Not even a really huge celebrity, but just someone you recognize and like. And then you're standing there waiting for your hot chocolate with whipped cream (SHUT UP I LIKE HOT CHOCOLATE OKAY) and you're thinking, "Holy crap, that's...!" but you don't want to be one of those total losers who gets all stupid at any brush with fame, so you try to affect a totally chill attitude and you're all, "...'sup, dude?", but inside you're all, "OMGOMGOMG". You know, like that.

So I waited to email (I hadn't even posted my pictures from that day yet, which happened to feature the Lunchbot as part of the demonstration) and thanked her for asking and said yes of course and that it wasn't really necessary to send me a box but if she really really wanted to, here was my mailing address. Hee. And then two of my lunches* appeared on the Lunchbots Facebook page and I was sort-of internet famous for a day and thus the circle of life was complete.

(*That description of the food isn't quite right. I think what she's calling tofu is actually roasted red garnet yams, cut into flower shapes, and those aren't wontons, they're gyoza, which means it also wasn't a vegetarian bento. But she was right that it was delicious :)

So that is the story of how I acquired my second Lunchbot, the Pico, which is the same as the Duo except smaller (350 mL instead of 500 mL).

I had a very pretty breakfast this morning featuring the Pico, but like a moron forgot to take a picture. So here, have a picture of the two Lunchbots together.breakfast, Lunchbot Pico:

• oatmeal (once I've prepared it, it'll go back in that side with everything mixed in); little salt container tucked in the side for the egg
• dried cranberries with a small vial of maple syrup underneath
• not-very-molded egg half
• cantaloupe, braeburn apple slices, red grapes

lunch, Lunchbot Duo:

• smashed roasted sweet potatoes
• smoked sausages
• another not-very-molded egg with peas as gap fillers
• cantaloupe, braeburn apple slices, red grapes

let the wild rumpus begin

Success! Our yard, which now looks approximately like the wild jungles of Borneo, is about to be beaten into submission. We'll have to pay someone to do it, but we found someone who was willing to take their lives in their hands and attempt to restore it to its benign Pacific Northwest unruliness. Of course, there's the very real possibility they'll go inside and be eaten by wild things with lots of teeth, but better them than us.

And speaking of Pacific Northwest unruliness (oh, I kill me with these segues)...Saturday night was the Naked Bike Ride (link is SO not safe for work, but this one is). Ostensibly, it's a protest against fossil fuels, or a way to highlight the vulnerability of riders on the road, depending on whom you talk to, but it's mainly an excuse for people ride around the city letting it all hang out. Which is always hilarious if you happen to be out and about and suddenly a bunch of naked people on bicycles streak past (that's happened to us a few times). Guaranteed to make you smile and giggle and be glad for a bit of gentle absurdity. But this year was notable because Sal decided to join in. And had a blast, so I suspect this will be an annual activity at Hall House. Don't worry, there won't be pictures.

I can't boast anything quite so daring for my weekend. Did some writing, some art, made phone calls, avoided work stuff. I also made the mistake yesterday of not bringing lunch in with me. Well, the mistake was Sunday night when I didn't make one to bring, for no real good reason at all, and then yesterday...well, yesterday was the kind of day that makes a person glad they don't happen very often. It was merely coincidence that it also happened to be a Monday, but it certainly didn't help Monday's reputation for sucking.

Anyway. Today has to be better because I have both lunch AND breakfast, my replacement debit card finally arrived (srsly, what a PITA), and our summer vacation (mine and Sal's) commences Friday. Eleven whole entire days of not being at work. Such luxury! And with the yard finally restored to order, we don't even have to go anywhere for it to be awesome.

breakfast, cute animals sidecar:

• molded egg
• cantaloupe
• red grapes

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• taco filling -- seasoned ground beef and rice, shredded colby, and a bit of sour cream in the little condiment cup
• flour tortilla and red leaf lettuce for the taco
• carrots and red grapes
• cantaloupe
• dark chocolate covered raisins and candied almonds (courtesy of Chef Sal)

conveniently dependent

Several Michaels crafts stores in our area were recently hit with a massive PIN-stealing scheme, including the store that's just down the road from my office. In the last week, there's been a rash of people reporting fraudulent charges on their bills or being notified by the fraud department of their bank of attempts to charge, including several people in my office. I've certainly visited the same store multiple times in the period mentioned in that article, so I've been monitoring my account closely. But while I was fortunate not to be hit by any illicit charges, I discovered yesterday that my debit card had been cancelled by the card company.

It was done as a preemptive measure across all their accounts that were on the list of compromised cards (which means my card was cancelled but Sal was unaffected), but just the sheer number of accounts involved meant that notifications are taking longer than they would normally.  Which meant that I discovered it when I tried to renew an online account and called the bank.

So grateful that what could've been Very Bad has become nothing more than inconvenient, with minimal hassle on my part. But yesterday was definitely a lesson on just how dependent I am on my debit card. I never carry cash and the couple of credit cards I carry are emergency-only. I don't really purchase much except for semi-regular trips to New Seasons for groceries, but it would be no hardship to curb those until my new card arrives.

Or so I thought. On my way to an appointment yesterday, it suddenly occurred to me I'd have to use my credit card. Annoying, but whatever. But then at the parking meter, I was stymied. I did just happen to have cash (one of the rare times I do) but it was a $20, which the machine wouldn't accept and I didn't have enough in coins for the length of time. Did I really want to put that couple of dollars on my credit card? I didn't really have a choice.

Even Sal had a hard time making the adjustment. Upon my relating the unexpected challenge of being without my debit card until a new one arrives, he suggested just getting cash back the next time I was at the store. "Um...I don't have a debit card...?" I said. "...oh, right," he said.

Funny how incorporated into our lives this convenience has become, that we would be so challenged when it disappears, however briefly. And a good lesson that maybe I need to make it a habit to carry at least a little cash more often.

breakfast, bento colors mini green:

• oatmeal with maple syrup and raisins
• blackberries and half a red grape (trying to make a sort of flower), with more grapes underneath
• mandarin sections
• molded egg half, with more mandarin sections underneath

lunch, deli club:

• mini sausages (with carrots underneath)
• steamed string beans as "grass" and carrot flowers for garnish
• molded egg half, with more carrot pieces underneath
• grapes on picks
• mandarin sections

a sudden realization about treats

I was up very late last night working (on stuff for website clients, not my day job), to the point that I convinced myself that I wasn't going to take the time to pack a lunch. Too tired, no leftovers to scrounge, no starches/carbs, too much work, etc. etc. The usual. But our organics delivery had come earlier in the day so I certainly didn't lack for veggies, and eggs are always an option, and no starch/carb wouldn't be any big deal. So I ended up putting one together, as well as a small breakfast sidecar. I even molded a couple of eggs and cut out a few carrot shapes. It was so late by the time I was putting it all together I just figured in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Tuesdays include a very long meeting, one that goes from morning until lunch, sometimes past lunch. So as I sat during our meeting eating from my little breakfast sidecar, I was thankful that I'd taken the time the night before.  But our meeting went longer than usual and rather than order out, we decided to finish the meeting at a nearby restaurant (Macaroni Grill). Damn, I thought. I could've just saved myself the hassle of making lunch last night if I'd known. A silly thought, since of course there was no way to know that we'd decide on the spur of the moment to make it a lunch meeting, but I thought it nonetheless.

At first, I thought well, I'll just save my lunch for dinner, then. Consider lunch a treat, even though a part of me was bummed that the especially colorful lunch I was looking forward to would have to wait until dinner.

But once I got there and looked at the menu (which was perfectly decent food, if a bit heavy), I changed my mind. I wasn't very hungry yet, thanks to my little breakfast, and my pretty lunch was waiting for me at my office, packed full of veggies and food cut into cute shapes. I knew I'd feel better afterward if I ate that instead of the pasta and cream sauces. (HAHAHAHA ORDER A SALAD WHAT IS THIS CRAZY TALK?) My bento was my treat, I realized, and suddenly nothing on the menu could compare.

breakfast, cute animals sidecar:

• heart-shaped egg (with a small container of sea salt)
• mandarin sections
• fresh blackberries and raspberries

lunch, bento colors purple

• mini sausages*
• peas w/carrot shapes on top
• two halves a star-shaped egg
• corn
• carrot sticks
• green beans
• mandarin sections
• red grapes

tales woven of enchanting yarns

Saturday, a friend I met through Prompt came over for dinner, which necessitated getting the house whipped into some semblance of presentability, since it would be her first visit and I think we all know how important that first, er, introduction to my home is to me. The side benefit of which is that the house looks and feels so great, which we then get to enjoy for however long we're able to keep it up. (I always have to laugh at myself, because when the house is all clean and nice and pretty, I tell myself that this time, this time, I'll be better about putting things away and staying on top of the chores like dusting and vacuuming that make such a noticeable difference in how the house feels. Even as I know that my best intentions aside, I'll inevitably peter out and then start wishing for a magical housekeeping fairy to just come keep my house clean for me.)

She arrived, beautifully arranged basket of flowers in hand (flowers that she picked from her own garden and arranged herself), gorgeous mohair pashmina thrown over her shoulder.  The weather obliged with warm air and clear skies so we could sit on the patio (for the first time this year) to enjoy cheese and Sal's handmade crackers(!) and breads while we talked.  Then dinner, which she was uniquely suited to appreciate since she once worked as a professional waitress at a famous NYC restaurant. And Sal made a great dinner, not overstated or pretentious, but just what he does best:  exceptional ingredients thoughtfully put together.  (And dessert was totally amazeballs fantastic:  mini chocolate bombes with a ganache coating and two decorative tuille cookies artfully placed on top, with fresh berries and a berry coulee arranged around it on the plate.)

My friend has two qualities (among many) that make her a delightful dinner guest: 1) a life straight out of a book, chock full of eccentric (and obscenely talented) characters and extraordinary adventures; and 2) a storyteller's gift for the well-told tale. By the end of the evening, I felt like we'd been given some secret treasure and fully expected her to fly off on a magic carpet. No magic carpet, but she must have sprinkled some kind of enchantment around while she was here because here it is Monday and the house is still in perfect order.

lunch, Paris slimline:

• Yucatan roasted turkey breast
• steamed broccoli
• corn
• blackberries
• raspberries
• Pink Lady apple
• cashews and dark chocolate covered raisins

fleet week

guided-missile destroyer USS Shoup (DDG 86), taken at the 2009 Rose Festival; U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Maebel Tinoko [Public domain], via Wikimedia CommonsWith the Rose Parade on Saturday, the military and historic ships started coming in yesterday, with the really big ones coming in today. I didn't see any coming down the river yesterday although I did make it a point to go out on the porch periodically to check. But, I did see the Broadway Bridge go up, so I know there was at least one going by me when I was downtown.

The river is usually about seven feet above normal during fleet week, necessitating some bridge lifts so the bigger ships can pass. This year, however, the river is 17 feet above normal (and still rising), which has meant bridge lifts for pretty much everything, and that's been true even before the fleet started coming in. It's translated into traffic backups all over the place for the last few weeks, which is something you don't really think about until you live in a city of bridges.

I remember last year that the river was abnormally high, and some of the ships couldn't come because they couldn't clear the St. Johns Bridge (which doesn't lift).  The St. Johns Bridge sits 200+ feet above the water, so we're talking about some pretty big ships for no bigger than the Willamette River is. Anyway, the tallest one that they could get through last year just cleared the bottom of the bridge deck by four feet. (And I'll bet they sweated through every inch of that clearance until the ship was all the way through.) I'm guessing they probably had to cancel a lot more ships this year.

The St. Johns Bridge, by the way, was dedicated during the Rose Festival 80 years ago (June 13th, 1931). And that's your fun Portland bridge fact for the day!

lunch, french bistro:

• omelet/scramble/frittata?...whatever, it's bunch of stuff cooked with egg -- spinach, mushroom, caramelized onions, green onions; a garnish of fresh spinach to eat with it
• part of a Braeburn apple, with corn as gap filler and more fresh spinach to eat with the egg dish
• celery pieces (cleaning out odds and ends in the fridge)
• dark chocolate covered raisins

all this time in her city, and I'm finally going to meet her

I'm headed to an SFWA event tonight which will include Ursula K. LeGuin speaking about writing, books, genre literature, and, I imagine, whatever else she darn well pleases. As the kids say today, I am excite!

I read The Earthsea Trilogy when I was, like, ten, and if I could locate the boxed set I had (stole borrowed inherited from my dad), I'd take it with me to be signed. Sadly, I suspect that it was lost in a move at some point. But I can still picture that set, and still remember discovering it on a weekend when I was looking for something new to read and browsing his bookcase. I came to a lot of books that way, now that I think about it....

breakfast, cute animals sidecar:

• oatmeal
• smidge of butter
• maple syrup
• raisins

lunch, Lunchbots Duo:

• half sandwich -- pepper roasted turkey with mustard on sourdough
• string cheese pieces as gap fillers
• lettuce for the sandwich lining the box
• Braeburn apple half
• celery sticks and carrot pieces

the sheer force of sky and the cold magnet earth

this is what the first(!) 80 degree day of an extremely cold, wet, and gray year looks likeFriday was so glorious that as soon as the workday was over (which ends early on Fridays because our company is the greatest), I jetted to a little hideaway place of mine with a book and a late afternoon lunchish/snackish bento (see below). This little spot is tucked into a niche of the Columbia River, in a place where there an island splits the river in half. I sneak out there every few weeks if the weather's nice and I've got a good book going.

taken a month and a half ago, back when the river was high at the time, but nowhere near as high as it is now; and randomly, a pirate ship that just sailed pastThe river is super high right now. Past flood stage, actually, though not currently threatening anything and no worry that it will before it finally starts to die back in a few weeks. Very thankful for that, obviously, since it seems so many others haven't been as lucky in other parts of the country. Still, it was amazing to be out there and see how noticeably different it was from the last time I was there just two or three weeks ago.

We spent Saturday with Sister, Guy, and the Fabulous Miss M at their house, us girls knocking about in the gorgeous weather while the boys brewed. Then later time spent together, just together. And food, of course, because that is what we do best. Mouthwateringly grilled steaks, with grilled asparagus and a special treat of a creamy mushroom sauce for the steak thanks to the morels that Guy picked up at the farmers' market and Sal's handy skill with cream, stock, and exquisite fungi. And later, sampling of the very special French artisan chocolates they'd bought in Montana months ago and saved just to share with us. That's love, people.

sometimes snapping a pic of Miss M is like trying to capture wind in a bottleThe weather held most of the day yesterday, but today is back to overcast and intermittent rain, but at least it's stayed a little warmer than it was. Although now that our yard has had a taste of sun and warmth, the weedy chaos is threatening to explode into overgrown catastrophe. We really need to get out there and get the place whipped into shape, but with so few nice days this spring, it's ever so much easier to go for a bike ride or ensconce onself on the porch swing with a book. Which explains why our yard is in the state it's in, and we're no closer to having it done. Sigh.

lunchish/snackish bento from Friday, Lunchbot Duo:

• parmesan breaded chicken breast pieces on my new picks
• string cheese
• carrot and celery sticks
• raspberries

sweet treat from Friday, matryoshka:

• honey roasted mixed nuts
• two chocolate chunk & sea salt cookies

lunch today, laptop lunch:

• salad greens -- red leaf lettuce, spinach, sprinkling of green onion
• salad fixins -- carrots, snap peas, radishes, celery
• a bit of naan
• chicken sauteed with a bit of salt, pepper, and fresh ginger (leftover from the gyoza adventure a few weeks ago)
• raisins and honey roasted mixed nuts for the salad
• dark chocolate covered raisins in the little condiment container
• on the side: Sal's homemade vinaigrette

title taken from "The Lightning Strike: Daybreak" by Snow Patrol

a charm from the sky seems to hallow us there

Today and yesterday are big anniversaries in our lives. Today marks 21 years since Sal and I first started dating, which...is still boggling to me every time I think about it. How is that even possible? Holy crap. We've been together for well over half our lives. Incomprehensible! It's like trying to wrap your head around the concept of super massive black holes or chaos theory or why Justin Bieber is popular.

And yesterday marked our 9 year house-iversary! Happy House-iversary, Hall House! How far you've come and how much you've changed. You were in need of more help than we initially realized, but you've been a bigger reward than we ever could've imagined. (Except for that whole water line incident. Let's not do that again, kay?) Thank you for being a castle and a sanctuary and a house of dreams.

breakfast, bento color mini green:

• mini frittatas -- mushroom, onion, spinach
• mini blueberry pancakes
• raspberries

lunch, Lunchbot Duo:

• 4-color raddiatore (tomato, carrot, spinach, regular) tossed with a bit of oil, herbs, and salt
• asparagus sauteed with mushrooms and caramelized onions
• red garnet yam patties*
• pepperoni -- the last from our visit to Dick's Brewing
• corn
• raspberries

*This is a new invention. Although someone probably thought of it long before I did.  So new to me, I guess. Anyway, I had some leftover roasted yams from last week so I mashed them up and mixed them with a little maple syrup, them put them in a lightly oiled pan (to keep them from sticking) on high heat. The result? To die for.

title taken from John Howard Payne's "Home, Sweet Home"

and day was breaking, a panoply of song

on the way home, a glimpse of the foot of Mt. Hood via Hwy 26REMEMBER THAT TIME WE WENT TO THE DECEMBERISTS CONCERT AND IT WAS PRETTY MUCH THE BESTEST EVER IN THE HISTORY OF CONCERTS AND/OR THE UNIVERSE?

Hahahaha guess what we just saw them again. Yes, it has been three months. Yes, we are becoming whatever the Decemberists version of Dead Heads are, or like those people who follow Phish all over the country (Phish Phans?). Other people aspire to elected office, or getting a Ph.D. We have achieved three Decemberists concerts in nine months. Our parents are so proud.

Rodrigo y Gabriela tearing the hell out of those guitarsIt wasn't intentional, mind. February's concert at the Schnitz was so freaking fabulous that we were satiated for a good long time. And we had already been quite content after the September concert at Pioneer Courthouse Square. But then I found out that they'd be at the Memorial Weekend concert series in Bend, AND. AND. It was really the AND that was the clincher. AND...Rodrigo y Gabriela would be opening for them.

I just. You guys. The laws of physics, you can't escape them. You just have to resign yourself to the laws of physics. That's why they're, you know, laws.

Okay, see here's the thing. Way back in prehistory, like, four or five years ago, The Decemberists were on this tour called "The Long and Short Of It" Tour. In which they would play two nights of concerts at each venue, one night of some of their long songs, and the one night of their short songs. But in one venue on that tour, they would actually play three nights, and that third night would be songs that ticketholders for that show had requested. And that special venue was, as you have probably guessed, dear reader, the Portland venue.

A'LKSJDFLDAKJ;LFJA;JLDKJA;JFAJSLJFLASJDFKLA;DJ

Well obviously, we had to go to this thing. And it was dicey, because you had to buy tickets for each show separately and those shows sold out in minutes. But because my concert ticket fu is second to none, I snagged us tickets for all. three. nights. And yea, there was much rejoicing.

the railroad bridget that goes over the 300 foot chasm at Peter Skene Ogden State ParkBut the Universe had not finished smiling good fortune upon us. A week later, I found out about a Rodrigo y Gabriela concert that would actually be about three weeks before that, and despite the fact that we had used up our entire concert budget for the year on the Decemberists' tickets, this was another concert that could not be passed up. I mean, have you seen that thing Gabriela does for percussion on guitar? Again, concert ticket fu, and I emerged victorious with tickets, and holy crap, we were mighty chuffed about these concerts to look forward to.

About a month later, the Decemberists tour was cancelled due to serious illness. And lest we try to take comfort in the other concert, the Rodrigo y Gabriela dates for Portland were cancelled due to illness. Pride goeth before the fall and all that crap.

So you see now why we had to go to this thing? Even though it meant traveling on a holiday weekend, something we try to avoid? And it would be at an outdoor venue in Bend, Oregon in late May, which would be the opposite of going south of hell in August? And that this May in particular was likely to be freaking freezing thanks to the bizarro world weather we've been having all winter/spring? DO YOU SEE HOW THE LAWS OF PHYSICS ARE IMMUTABLE AND UNFORGIVING?

sitting at the park, eating our breakfast and watching the ducks and geeseSo to Bend we did go. And it was goddamn fucking cold as hell, and they confiscated our camp chairs for being too tall so we had to sit on the cold ground without a blanket or anything, and there was a wind blowing, and NONE OF THAT MATTERED BECAUSE IT WAS GODDAMN FUCKING PERFECT OKAY. Rodrigo y Gabriela were mindblowingly amazing and they tore that place up with nothing but two acoustic guitars, and then The Decemberists came out except it wasn't Colin it was Rainn Wilson pretending to be Colin and then they busted out into "The Infanta" and they finished with "The Mariner's Revenge" in the first encore again and then did Sal's favorite "June Hymn" for the second encoure and srsly? OMG SRSLY I LOVE THEM FOREVER AND EVER THE END.

the Deschutes River @ Drake ParkWe also managed to finally hit Deschutes Brewery for lunch prior to the concert, despite a one hour wait, so we can finally say we've been there. (Good burgers, though it was all a bit overhyped, imo.) And while we waited, we stumbled on a nifty geeky used book store with a special love for geeky collectible toys and action figures and a whole comics section and a very nice selection of fantasy for being such a tiny store. And for breakfast before leaving town, we hit up a wee coffee shop hidden in an alley that roasts its own coffee, thanks to a tip from our neighbors. And we picked a lovely park in the Old Bend neighborhood to sit and eat our breakfast, right there next to the Deschutes River.

But I'll have more pictures about that tomorrow.

lunch, origami squares:

• crab
• sushi rice
• peas
• corn
• cherries
• mango

never underestimate my ability to overdo it on a project

SO TODAY I DID A ONE HOUR PRESENTATION ABOUT ALL THINGS BENTO AND IT WAS KIND OF THE BEST THING EVER. As in, lots of people showed up, and everyone was enthusiastic, and I had plenty to fill the time. Srsly, I had a PowerPoint presentation and two picture slideshows and visual aids and food samples and a handout and a live demonstration. I AM A MONUMENTAL DORK OKAY.

Sal and I made fifty gajillion gyoza (which entailed us being up ridiculously late for the last two nights) and he also made the sauce stuff that goes with them, both of which were a huge hit with everyone. Oh, and he made bento-sized chocolate chip cookies, which I handed out at the end, just to cement the ranking as the best bento presentation ever done at my workplace in the whole history of forever. That's a pretty competitive field, if you didn't know.

Oh, and I got to do a show and tell about my bento boxes! Making my inner kindergartener positively giddy. I may no longer feel the need to bore random visitors with all the intricacies of single-tier versus two-tier, and the challenges of the round and square versus rectangular boxes. You all can breathe a sigh of relief now.

But because I am both A) a masochist, and B) crazy, I even packed a bento box right there in front of everyone. Which...I mean, I planned all along to do that, but because I am all about preparation, I had also planned to practice the night before to ensure prevent any unexpected mishaps. However, helping to cook up seven dozen gyoza in the wee hours of the morning will mean that you don't have time to practice packing your bento box to ensure doing it live won't result in embarrassment. Yet, despite my lack of preparation, I plunged recklessly ahead. AND! I even let the group choose which bento box I'd pack, just to add an extra degree of difficulty. BECAUSE I THINK WE CAN ALL AGREE I AM TOTALLY ABOUT LIVING ON THE EDGE. Thankfully, even that potential disaster turned out well, and I managed to prove that you can indeed pack a pretty and delicious and healthy compact lunch in no time at all.

And so now, I have a bunch of coworkers who are all talking about bento boxes and egg molds and there's talk of everyone going in on an order together to save on international shipping and it was totally fun and great! And also a lot of work! And I'm never doing it again because I am way too lazy! So it's a good thing it was pretty much the awesomest!

lunch, Lunchbot Duo:

• sushi rice
• asparagus sauteed with green onions and mushrooms (which I unintentionally hid completely underneath the asparagus)
• roasted red garnet yam shapes
• two gyoza (stuffed with pork (seasoned with soy sauce, ponzu, and other things I've forgotten), green onion, ginger, garlic, cabbage)
• steamed broccoli, corn (mostly hidden under the gyoza), and peas
• fresh mango and cherries