as the crow flies

It's coming up on Autumn. Rapidly. The past two days have decided to put Summer back up on its shelf and await a new year because for now, the winds are changing again.

Watch me eat those very words when we get some spastic, late-September heat wave that leaves me wanting to wring myself into the Willamette River. 

Nonetheless, the air smells different and I find myself wanting to listen to The Frames and Joanna Newsom. And Sundowner - a singular and eternal season in and of itself. With just two days of temperatures below 70 degrees and already I'm ready to trade my leather sandals for boots of the same breed. My bright green asparagus and fuschia radishes for deceptively citrus-colored gourds and squash, earthy mushrooms and toasted hazelnuts from orchards that neighbor the winery. 

Robin sent me a message earlier today while I was running amuck throughout my apartment cleaning ("running amuck" meaning here that I was dodging the landmines of laundry and dust bunnies camping in the 500 square feet I call home):

"How does the air smell to you? Fallish? I think so.... It's so awesome. Can't stop smiling."

The girl was on to something. With my windows and front door open, trilling the Northwestern atmosphere into my home, I couldn't deny that there was something distinctly different from the warm(ish), blackberry scented breeze that I'd only just begun to get used to over the past few weeks. You've heard me prattle about the autumn air up here, and Brigette knows exactly what I'm talking about, but I'll never quite get over it: that ecstatic sensation of inhaling those first few whiffs of the season above all seasons. The Alpha and The Omega of weather patterns. That perfect time of year before the harshness of Winter bites into your life and begins to crystalize your blood and plasma until the next thaw. 

This is not to downplay winter, I love to play in the snow and splash through my fair share of puddles, but the fact that it steals away my autumn pisses me off sometimes. 

Anyway, I count it as no rare coincidence that a few hours later, as I was wiling away a couple of hours at the laundromat waiting for my wardrobe to come back to life, Dean cast a kindred-thought my way:

"I think fall is officially here!!! <3.... It smells and feels gorgeous outside. :)"

(The kid likes emoticons almost as much as I like parentheticals)

Having been inside for about an hour and a half, reading the seasonally appropriate Ray Bradbury,  inhaling only what I hope was Tide with a hint of Downey softener (oh God, please, let that have been the extent of it) I stood up and walked outside. Trees were being whipped ever so by the wind and oh! there... There it was, a flourish of leaves being discarded from their respective perches on the branches of oaks and maples and into the street. Back to the earth, back to feed new life, back from whence it came. 

And so it comes. People all get ready. 

(photo taken last year in front of Powell's, just off Burnside)

waitaminute

There's something funnier than that? My whole world just crumbled.

impromptu dinner party

With new jobs, crazy schedules, boyfriends, friends, car trouble, overtime hours, unexpecteds and, oh yeah, the fact that she lives in Vancouver, it's been a long time since Ashley and I have been able to slow down enough to catch up with each other. And so this weekend when her boy Brandon was out of town, we jumped at the chance to play.

Of course, this past weekend at work left me with my head spinning around like those damn plates Radiohead has been singing about all these years and even when we got our act together and decided "Yes! Saturday night! SAT-UR-DAY NIGHT!" by the end of the work day I was about to fall down and wail helplessly trying to figure out what just happened to the last nine hours of my life ("busy, busy, busy") (Vonnegut point for Moshboy, who probably doesn't even read this... That's fine).

So Saturday didn't work. I didn't have the stamina to make the hour drive from Dundee to Vancouver at that point. Sunday though... Sunday was the day. Armed with a bottle of 2005 Leland Vineyard Pinot Noir (ooooh) I crossed the border into Washington and landed at the Briley/Gamble household. At this point, Brandon was home and dinner was being made (not a bad event to walk into). The menu? Lime & jalapeno marinated tuna steaks on the grill, fresh salad with veggies (most of which were from their garden), oven-roasted potatoes and strawberry shortcake (which gave Ash, who rarely drinks, some trouble there when trying to perform kitchen conversions for the butter and egg components after a glass of wine - entertaining for me though)

Dinner aside (which was amazing) the evening was much needed. I've known Ashley for almost three years; one of my first friends at Living Room and Portland in general. Our initial bond formed when we took that leap of faith and became Facebook friends (isn't that, after all, the true validation of any relationship?) (wait, it's not? I need to go reevaluate my belief system...) and discovered we both had had religious experiences reading Shantaram. As far as I'm concerned, this novel is the perfect cornerstone for a friendship. Fast forward to the past year and that's when I really realized that she had become one of my best friends. A true and solid member of the Portland family I have found myself fortunate enough to be a part of.

The three of us ate our tuna, doused our potatoes with Creole seasoning (Brandon's addition to the meal... Hey, these kids are from Louisiana, they know what they're talking about) and finished off the Leland. Leaving us to girl time, B headed off to bed but not before prepping the hot tub for the ladies (here meaning, taking the cover off while we popped open another bottle of wine). And for the next two hours Ash and I alternated bubbling in the hot tub and perching on the edge to bring our body temperatures back down to a normal level. We talked about the classics - love, life, faith and philosophy -  you know, solving the world's problems. We've both found ourselves in similar situations in the past year and both come out better, stronger women for it. Not taking for granted these lessons, we decided that the pits of despair we have teetered on the edges of off-and-on for the past few months were all entirely worth it. and above all else, we are thankful for them - something we were only able to realize here in hindsight.

My point is this: that old saying, "Wherever you are, it's your friends who make your world" is entirely true. My best friends, the ones who make my heart beat and soul strong, are peppered all over the place (here, there and everywhere). My utopia would have them all within arm's reach (alas...) but it's sure nice to know that wherever I go, they'll be there.

cutest nephew contest

Jack

Kamdyn

 I win.

Note: That's a whole lot of ravioli on K's face... And apparently when he sneezed, ravioli came out his nose... Yes, even THAT is adorable.

hunt

First of all, it's a Sundowner kind of day. 

I stumbled into a new blog. Tales of Me & the Husband is the voice of Bridget Hunt (above) and I kind of wish I could be her friend (Bridget, if you're reading this I'm only halfway kidding, but seriously, you and your blog are awesome).

Anyway, just throwing that out into the blogosphere (I think I hate that word).

Now though, I must scamper off to pick up an early birthday treat (Dad knows what I'm talking about!) that I will share, along with too much excitement (no such thing? kind of like cheese!) on here soon.

Love.

football season

This kid is ready. GO COLTS!

sunday morning...

...And this is how I feel.

nikon D5100

This is my new definition of lust.

flame on

"Dispatch tonight, headed to Sisters Oregon. Please pass it on. Don't know much else.... 

I'll keep you updated as much as I can."

And so Smoke Signal is off and running once again! The kid was due to come home in just 6 days after being stationed down in Lakeview, OR since July 14th but I guess I'll have to wait to make that welcome home dinner a little bit longer. Fair enough... Chasing dreams (and raging forest fires) takes precedence over lasagna!

Feel free to send prayers, happy thoughts, good juju, pleasantries and well-wishes to Jared and the whole GFP crew as they run headlong into another adventure!

This summer just got a whole lot more exciting... Again. 

(photo of smokey the bear from the 2010 fire season)

long lost iphone photos

Laura, while you were in labor for 38 hours...

...This is what we were doing.

Maria and Ashley, I adore you two. And Laura too.

an american girl in italy

Love this quick article about the story behind this photo. I've been to Italy, been propositioned/harassed/sometimes flattered by the Italian men, but never quite so photogenically.

"one" more (ha! get it?)

birthday boy

Andrea posted some birthday photos... This kid kills me.

ONE.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that as of today, August 18th, 2011, Mr. Kamdyn Michael has joined the ranks of One Year Olds. He will serve proudly and diligently for his one year term. He will uphold the proud name of "One". He will make his voice be heard. And he will, above all else, be adorable.

Yes, little man turns one today and it's hard to believe that a year ago he was just getting here!

Happy birthday Kamdyn! You are a very loved little boy from coast to coast! Can't wait to see you continue growing into the amazing little person you already are!

let it go

I have a decently vivid memory of a drive out to Bodega Bay somewhere between 8th grade and sophomore year of high school wherein my friends tortured me by playing country music the entire time. Being the wayward American Bandstand-er lost somewhere in the wrong musical generation that I was (in between teenyboppering too of course) I could not bear the twang and "my girl just left me so I'm going to go milk a cow" sentiment to just about every song I heard. Nothing too terribly against it... I just couldn't dig it.

An unfair generalization, yes. But I was thirteen (or possibly fifteen, like I said, decently vivid memory, not  a solid flashback) and had yet to finalize my taste in music.

Anyway, hit the double arrow to fast forward (or arrows and a vertical line to skip a few chapters ahead for the DVD generation) to college, now somewhere between sophomore year and senior year (timeline here more an ongoing thing than a specific incident) (what's that? more parentheticals you say? SURE!) (ok, this one's just for kicks, we're getting off topic...)

Where was I? Oh, yeah, country music. Meeting Blake meant the occasional Texan coming out and this in turn meant a dose of country (though to this day I have yet to hear to full expanse of his true Texas accent, despite so many margarita nights). Nights spent spazzed out on Blake's extra-long twin in his dorm room were often to the tune of Enya, various Disney classics or the occasional country classic. "Who's Your Daddy?" became a beloved sing-along with HRH belting it out in his fabulous baritone along with my now personal favorite "My Maria".

But that's a lot of backstory to bring things back around to my point here (bless you for sticking with the post thus far)...

So a friend of mine recently tuned me into Zac Brown Band and in spite of myself, things were sounding pretty good. My genre of choice has fallen into a sort of folk rock/folk punk direction with a little bluegrass thrown in for good measure so with ZBB not being too twangy I quickly found that I was keeping their album on repeat. Song after song I was totally into it and, gasp!, loving it! At first I only downloaded one album but was soon going back for more.

And in that second album, one song in particular hit dead home for me. I was leaving Mari's one night after one of the most meaningful nights of wine and conversation I've had in a long time and popped The Foundation into my car and headed home. The first song on that disc was "Let It Go" and following what Mari and I had just been talking about for the last three hours, I knew that God had carefully crafted this moment for me. He had done it so that I would hear exactly what I needed to hear exactly when I needed to hear it. (Funny how He does that, eh?)

The chorus goes as follows:

You keep your heart above your head and your eyes wide open

So this world can't find a way to leave you cold

And know you're not the only ship out on the ocean

Save your strength for things that you can change

Forgive the ones you can't

You gotta let it go

Well said, ZBB. Well said.

Ever since the proverbial ::cough:: expletive ::cough:: hit the fan back in April, I had been fighting things so hard and I was losing steam. London had helped beyond all measure and adequate adjectives, but there was still that little twinge in the back of my mind/heart/soul that wasn't freely giving up what had been taken from me. Incidentally, that was one of my earlier epiphanies about the whole break-up mess - in it all, I  found myself in no way doubting God's plan, but certainly not understanding what I did to deserve that swift hand of change. But it did bring me closer to Him and in doing so, made me look back over the stories that have comforted so many of the centuries. I returned to the story of Job and realized that if I was ever going to find comfort and peace of mind again, I would have to freely give up this thing that I had held so dear. 

But folks, we all know this is easier said than done (if I've done my job right, there should be a resounding "DUH!" echoing through your homes right now).

But what a thought, right? "Let It Go" had unknowingly just summed up the exact philosophy I was trying to put my finger on in order to move forward. "Save your strength for things that you can change, forgive the ones you can't..."! Wow. You all know the weight and importance that I give words and the power that they have for me, so to hear/read something so simply profound as these lyrics was practically a little religious experience itself! And I was so excited to have it!

And so I'll tuck that sweet chorus away in my canon and keep the advice close at heart. The song references those words being a "message from [his] father"... I think I'll put that thought in a box and show it to my children someday when it comes time for me to pass along a little bit of wisdom. Until then, I'll keep repeating it in my mantras. 

why?

While Brigette and Mac were in Portland a couple months ago for Laura and John's wedding a few more photos were added to the "Brigette-and-Lauren-act-like-idiots-and-hope-everyone-finds-it-endearing" portfolio.

Regarding the second photo, I believe the [online] conversation went as follows:

Brigette: This is why we're friends.
Mac: Trout lips is why you're friends?!?!
Lauren: Yes.

You don't have to understand it. But you should definitely laugh at it.

knowledge is power

Today at work I was heading up a big event with our winemaker Gary Horner (pictured above) and learned a few awesome things about our winery and the wine industry in the Willamette Valley:

1. This is the second coolest, wettest growing season we have had in 117 years
2. The Coury clone, the dominant clone on the Battle Creek Vineyard, is rumored to be a "suitcase clone" brought over to America by Chuck Coury and we don't actually know where it came from exactly
3. Dick Erath's first vintage (1972) was only eight barrels worth of wine

You see? This is what I love about my job - I learn something (or multiple things) every day!

anticipating autumn

It's only the beginning of August, but my autumn frenzy is already percolating. I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes (cue The Troggs) and I'm ready to feel it in my tummy. Here meaning I'm ready to start cooking and/or eating anything containing and//or referencing pumpkin and/or whiskey. (I am delirious and/or too entertained by the and/or concept right now, forgive me).

Anyway, Dean and Robin and I have already begun plotting our seasonal treats which will include, but are not limited to: pumpkin turkey chili, pumpkin apple butter, and now this: pumpkin bourbon cheesecake.

Sweet. Mercy.

I'm practically drooling at the thought of it. This is the Pavlovian Response old Ivan never thought of. Those dogs have nothing on a few Autumn Children with an overwhelming affinity for epicurean delights.

Much as I adore summertime in the Pacific Northwest, there is nothing like the coming of autumn (the best season of all). Brigette and I are notorious for our autumnal exploits (she's right here with me in this train of thought; we are kindred spirits) and through her I first discovered Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. Our fervor is perfectly summarized with this passage (albeit with more childish delight rather than eery darkness):

“Beware the autumn people. … For some, autumn comes early, stays late, through life … with no winter, spring or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the only normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No, the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks through their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles—breaks. Such are the autumn people. Beware of them.” 

If ever I jump on the Portland tattoo-train, I would immortalize those words - Beware the autumn people...

And so, I will savour these warm summer days, the cloudless skies, the majesty of a pristine Mount Hood and the coming of my coveted August blackberries. But by September, the winds will change, the air will be crisp and weighted with the delicate scent of decaying foliage as it dissolves back into the Earth... And I will be the happy little lamb sitting in a pile of leaves with a orchard-fresh apple in one hand and a hot toddy in the other!

(photo by Smitten Kitchen)

noone-ing off

There's a part of me that desperately wanted to make a joke about it being 12 o'clock somewhere and having that translate to "noon" and somehow lining that up with Peter Noone....

Er, yeah. I'm not sure it's even possible. And if it is, I'm definitely not that clever.

Enjoy the classic quality of 1960's music videos though. This song has been in my head for days.

genetics

Gee... Do you think they're related?

second city

Newest single from my old buddies Ryanhood! The video was hand drawn by Cameron (the "Hood" in Ryanhood) - how cool is that?

Pay special attention when he stops writing lyrics and offers up some words of wisdom and inspiration!

thanks dad

In a recent email from my dad, he closed with these remarks:

Meanwhile...eat well, drink well, sleep well...be well!

Love,

Dad

Father, you've taught me well.

Thank you.

belly laughs

laughter is the best medicine from lauren jean allece on Vimeo.


Andrea had posted this a while ago and I couldn't figure out how to share the squealing cuteness until now. Don't you just want to squeeze him! I love this little man!

TIP: enlarge the video to full screen for full hilarity! (little four-way arrow next to the "vimeo" logo)

a boy & a puppy

Though his birthday isn't until the 18th, Kamdyn is already enjoying his 1st birthday present!

(photo swiped once again from Andrea's page)

eavesdropping

This movie looks hysterical. It reminds me of this. I wish my neighbors were more entertaining.

if ever i stray

New Frank Turner video... I'm in love. So is Dean. Probably shouldn't let Frank in on that last part. Also, fun fact: Frank had finished shooting this video just days before I saw him play in Whitley Bay and said how "f****ing freezing" that water was. 

Frank Turner, thank you for all you do. You are what you believe. 

splish splash & giggles

Not the best quality because I had to take video of video with my phone, but that doesn't detract from the "ohmygodIcan'tstandithe'ssocuteI'mgoingtolosemymind"-ness of Mr. Kamdyn Michael.

I just want to squeeze him!

jam hands

When living in Oregon, it becomes crucial to put fresh produce to good use as often as possible. This is an unwritten law understood by all inhabitants. Happily, living here has instilled in me an obsessive need to take the state's bounty and make it into things that are by definition "yummy".

And so, I made my first attempt at jam! I used fresh blueberries, lemon juice, sugar and voila! Jam! 

I can highly recommend this recipe for simple jams (I'm anxious to try a version of it with the Oregon blackberries once they ripen!) especially when paired with Trader Joe's Almond Butter on whole wheat toast!

campout

the barn

some tents

the offices (where jared is camped out)

the other guys' tents in the barn

the "kitchen"

oh, and the boy himself!

So Jared, known as "Doc" to his GFP crew thanks to his sweet EMT skills coming in handy down on the New Mexico fires, has been staging down in Lakeview, Oregon since mid-July waiting for the next dispatch. It's nothing fancy, and he's dying for more fire, but he seems to be having his own brand of fun hanging out at their camp.

Last week the guys got together and bought some new toys (a Total Gym, some free weights, etc.) so he said it's kind of gone from refugee camp (what with all of them living either in tents pitched inside the barn or, like Jared, commandeering one of the old offices) to prison yard. Nice.

As it stands now he will be down there until at least August 30th, unless they get a dispatch then it's all up to Mother Nature.

So keep praying and sending the good juju his way! He's having a blast doing what he loves!