what happens when it snows for half the week in Portland

Today, I busted out. 

I sprung the joint.

I… Drove to Red Hills Market.

And it



This is how I know I'm living in the right part of the country. We get hit with an "Arctic Blast", call it Snowpocalypse, but in less than a week it's gone and we're back to business as usual.

On that note, I don't think I would do well in those places where it snows all the live long winter simply because it only took four days to push me right up to that little edge where colors start to fade, the hours blur together and the only living things I have any kind of intelligent conversation with are the dogs and quite frankly, even if I started dictating the next great American novel, no one would ever know.

Because the dogs are unreliable witnesses.

And also, I don't say anything that interesting. 

So meanwhile, there I was at RHM, getting heckled by the guys because where I was at one time there almost daily, now I hardly have time to swing by in a sleep-deprived frenzy on my way home from work to grab something and run right back out.

In and out in 10 minutes or less.

It'd make a great reality show. 

But I threw Kyle and Mark for a loop by ordering for here (for there? God, it's been so long since I've written a real post I'm forgetting how to tell a story properly). Regardless, it was a rare treat to be able to sit and enjoy a bite and a beer there without the worry of anything much beyond hoping there weren't any idiots drivers out on the road still afraid of melting snow (spoiler alert: when snow melts, it turns to water and guess what guys? Oregonians should know how to drive on wet roads… JUST PRETEND IT'S RAIN).

Anyway, I was going somewhere with this…

OH! Yeah, so while there was plenty of food in the house here, I was craving fresh. It's actually something I noticed over and over on Facebook and Instagram - all of us had fun filling up on hearty comfort food for days one and two, but by three and four? Desperate for greens. 

And so that little meal today was fantastically satisfying.

Because I needed it. I needed the cold, hoppy bubbles of an IPA pulled from a tap. I needed the fluffy ciabatta and sweet, lean turkey, the tart apple and the fiery bright green arugula attacking my palette.

(turkey, apple and arugula… if you need a taste of crisp and fresh I highly suggest you put these things on a sandwich and go to town!)

OK, so there really wasn't much point to this post and I'm okay with that. 

We'll just call it an exercise in cabin fever and leave it at that. 

And now I have to gear back up because the winery reopens tomorrow and as much as I'm stupidly excited to get back to work, I think I'm already tired with all there is to do.

Just a heads up: we really don't have any free time until April. But on that, I'm going to try and get back to this space as much as I can. 

And not bank on another snowstorm to facilitate that.