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my favorite shot from minneapolis

From a window in the Guthrie theater.

my port townsend

I know that I complain a lot about being stuck in a small town when I'd rather be living in the city. It just so happens, though, that my particular small town is one of the most gorgeous places I've ever been. From the deck of the new Northwest Maritime Center, you can see both Mt. Rainier and Mt. Baker when the conditions are right (like this morning). That's hard to beat for sheer scenic magnificence.

There are lots of smaller beauties to be found as well.

So while I jet off to a far away city and get my urban fix, I leave you with a link to a blog by a local photographer who captures all the gorgeousness here very well indeed: please enjoy My Port Townsend. And keep in mind that most people here think I am absolutely nuts for even thinking of the city when this is my home.

ps

While we're talking about Minneapolis, I think I ought to mention that the song "Minneapolis" by Lucinda Williams has to be the saddest song ever, by a woman known for writing sad songs.

land o' lakes

My sister, due to a quirk of her profession, maintains two households. Sadly, they are both far away, but they do happen to be in places that are interesting to visit. One of those places involves donning strange clothes and walking around like this:

 

But the other place is somewhat less exotic. Although there is abundant water, I'm willing to bet that nobody ever goes snorkeling there, especially not in November. But I am going there in 48 hours, and I'm very excited. I'm on my way to Minneapolis.

I kind of get a look when I tell people how enthused I am about my upcoming trip to the midwest in November. What they forget is that I am a city girl down to my bones, and I'm in small town exile, so the thought of going to any city, especially one with interesting museums and lots of fun restaurants sounds like heaven. Plus, I get to hang out with my cool sister. After much research, she even found the place to go for coffee (which happens to be in St. Paul). 

Can't get much better than that.

present times two

I got some lovely birthday presents this year. One of which was a plane ticket, which has to be the best kind of present. While I busy myself at work and home getting things settled so I can use said plane ticket later this week, I would like to share another one of my presents.

A co-worker surprised me with three bars of soap, each wrapped in heavy botanical-themed paper. This was my favorite design: bold and colorful, yet not too fussy. On a side note, is that really how you spell "pomegranate"?

headless halloween

Hijo knew from the start that he wanted to go headless for Halloween. He had some ideas about how to do it, but I confess that I wasn't so sure we could pull it off. About half our linen closet is stuffed into the shoulders of that jacket. There was much experimenting on my part, including some ill-conceived attempts at cutting up cardboard boxes to use as support. In the end, simple was best. I think the ordinariness of the rest of the outfit adds to the surprise of not seeing a head where one should be.

There was a perfect Halloween sky: the moon was large and bright and the clouds scudded across it like ships in the wind. The costume was a big hit and Hijo enjoyed the attention as much as the candy. When we got home he promptly sat on his bedroom floor and sorted everything into little piles based on type. Almond joys here, Starbursts there, Milky Ways there, etc. This behavior baffles me, as I had no desire to organize or sort or do anything with my Halloween loot as a kid except to scarf it all up, and quickly.

For Hijo, knowing he has it is almost as much fun as eating it. He hasn't even asked to have any for breakfast.

just now

I heard a knock on the door this morning, just a few minutes after Hijo left for school. He forgot something, I thought. I opened the door and there he was.

"There's a full moon in the sky!" he said. "Come see."

I walked out into the yard in my shirtsleeves and bare feet. "Look, right up there." He pointed. "Who would think there'd be a full moon in the morning?"

And there it was, bright and shining, and I looked up at it and felt the cool air all around me and Hijo ran off to catch the bus.

chameleon boy

I made one of our favorite fall dinners this evening: delicata squash soup.* The bits of produce leftover from the prep inspired some silliness.

*I added roasted garlic and used Italian sausage instead of bacon. Extremely tasty.

bounty

I love the farmers market at this time of year, the slight golden cast of the light makes all the produce even more enticing. There are few things more picturesque than piles of winter squash in all their variety and bulbousness piled in a wooden crate with a small white-lettered sign written in chalk telling the price per pound. I bought two delicata, which do indeed have a delicate flavor and are especially tasty when grilled.

I also bought some plump cherry tomatoes and a pound of green beans, a ball of fresh goat's milk cheese from Mystery Bay Farm, and a loaf of organic walnut cranberry bread, a slice of which I'm eating now topped by - yes - the chevre. I might eat nothing else all day.

I find the market very therapeutic. It's best to go early, before the tourists wake up and when the selection is best. This being a small town, I see lots of people I know. The market is a good place for social chit chat, and nobody expects you to stop for too long before moving on to fill your shopping bag. (Of course you must bring your own bag.) I love it that most of the farmers are young people, many of whom have babies strapped across their chests. That organic farming is seen as a desirable way of life for young couples raising a family gives me hope for humanity. I love the clichéd beauty of the displays of produce in wooden crates or lined up on a table shining like jewels. There is a calm to be had walking through the market in the morning, even though there is activity all around.

Women weave, girls hand out dog biscuits, a man sings and plays guitar; the coffee wagon is busy, the lines at the bakery tent and the taco truck are long; the barbecued oyster stand sends salt-scented steam toward the bright morning sky. I gather my bounty and then I take it home.

papers on my desk in the morning sun