little black journal

I’ve said it before – I really, really love traditions.  And I especially love sharing those traditions with close friends, our “Seattle family”, watching our relationships change and grow from year to year.  I also love a good party, paired with copious amounts of chocolate and cheese, so when our annual c-group fondue party rolls around each year, I am pumped.  And this year certainly did not disappoint.

We made one minor modification this time around and changed our “post-fondue 5k” to a “pre-fondue 5k”, so the festivities kicked off yesterday morning, when the tried and true met at Seward Park and set off on our 3-mile loop.  The guys left La Verne and I in their dust, but we were alright with that, as we enjoyed a good chat on our leisurely jog.  We spent awhile goofing off at the beach after the run with some photo silliness (we have all decided that Jack’s should win an award for his in-air camera poses), and then headed over to Empire Espresso to kick off our day-long calorie-fest with lattes and waffles.

(photo by Jack)

After a lazy afternoon, we gussied up and headed over to Jack and La Verne’s for the big party.  Shane and I took part in a friendly dual with Jason and Nance over who could make the more exquisite cheese fondue, and after much banter and taste-testing, we ultimately decided to call it a tie.  It’s tough to be super-discerning when you’re giddy with the goodness of wine-infused melted cheese.  However, Jason wins hands-down for best pose for a fondue ad – he could be Gruyere’s poster-child with a gaze like this…

or not…

The evening was pure bliss, full of so much food, drink, and laughter.

The fondue party wouldn’t be complete without our annual white elephant gift exchange.  There are a couple of particularly desirable gifts that pop up year after year – like this crystal-framed kinda-scary photo of Lee.  Jason is laughing on the outside, but inside he’s thinking, “Crap.  Where can I stash this for a year?”

Our active rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas is another old favorite.  Jack kept his role as the guitar-playing “goose a-laying”, and Daniel killed it with his improv version of the “Piper Piping”.

We ended the night with a little Kinect dance party, and finally made our way home just as the cheese-and-chocolate coma began to set in.  What a night…  Cheers, friends – already looking forward to next year.

(photos by La Verne)

When I first moved to Seattle over six years ago, I prayed that I’d find girlfriends here that I could come to know and love and count on through thick and thin; God heard me loud and clear and slowly but surely brought a group of really fabulous women into my life. And I’ve been loving my ladies somethin’ fierce these days, with lots of extra-special girl-fests popping up on the calendar. I was sitting in a movie theater with several friends last weekend, and as we all rolled our eyes (translation: gaped, open-mouthed) and giggled (translation: swooned) together over the latest Twilight movie, I wondered how I got so lucky. It was just so…good for my soul to take part in an all-out ladies night, to sit around a dinner table and share in deep, meaningful conversation, then head to a movie and be silly and young together.

I can’t ever get enough of these gals, which is why I proposed a little a getaway sans husbands to Nancy and La V a few weeks ago. It took all of three seconds to convince them we were due for a night away together, and so we promptly booked a room at the Willows Lodge in Woodinville, scheduled our massages, packed our bags with chick flicks and nail polish and junk food, and yesterday at noon, we were off. It. was. heaven. From the minute we set foot in our room and watched Nancy take a flying leap onto one of the big, fluffy beds, we knew we were in for something good. I think we would have been happy just to put our pajamas on mid-afternoon and hole up for the next 24 hours, but we all had appointments at the lodge’s spa, so we headed back out for our massages and a good, long soak in the whirlpool. Feeling super-relaxed and sufficiently prune-like, we headed back to the room, again thinking we’d be happy to put our pajamas on and call it a night, but instead decided to head down to the hotel bar, where we enjoyed a light dinner, fire-side. The rest of the night was filled with pedicures, Reese’s peanut butter cups, and chick flicks back at the room. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night – could have been the massage, or it could have been Ryan Gosling’s performance in The Notebook, but I’m pretty sure it was actually the time with my girls that had me so giddy. This morning was full of more lazy goodness, with breakfast in bed while we watched Little Women, thoughtfully debating which March sister each of us resembled the most, but ultimately deciding it didn’t matter- we really just wanted to end up with Laurie. Check-out time was at noon, and we grudgingly rolled our bags out the door at 12:01, feeling a little bummed that our epic little getaway had come to an end, but certain that there would be more of these in the future.

I’ve mentioned before, I’m big on traditions. Real big. And one of my most favorite traditions is our annual visit to the Christmas tree farm in North Bend. This is the first Christmas that we’ll actually spend at home in Seattle, so I’ve really been looking forward to making our house all Christmas-y, with a tree and sparkly lights and stockings and all that goodness. Project “holiday decor” kicked off this morning as we headed east to find the perfect pine; Jack and La Verne were also in the market for a tree today and joined us on our hunt. It was chilly out there, but dry and with small patches of blue sky over beautiful Mount Si. I’m in the middle of The Hobbit right now, and felt very Bilbo-ish as we meandered among the trees, with “Lonely Mountain” hovering above us. We wandered for awhile before settling on a full, round 7-foot Grand Fir. Jack and La Verne one-upped us with an 8-footer (plus some), and this was after we talked Jack down from the 9 and 10-foot trees he initially had his eye on (I had visions of a tree with it’s top branches bent over at their ceiling, but La Verne’s voice of reason eventually won out).

Our mighty lumberjacks chopped down the trees and we headed to the entrance to get them baled and sip our cider. See that little Honda Civic in the background with the tree perched precariously on its roof? Yeah, that’s us, and it was a slow drive home…

And now here I sit by the light of the tree, glass of egg nog in hand and Sufjan’s Christmas album playing on the stereo, and I am so full of thanks – for good friends, for our cozy home, for the Northwest’s natural beauty, and most of all, for the true reason behind this Advent season. God is good.

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve picked up my knitting needles and rummaged through my yarn bin for the perfect skein of wool or cotton, but as of late, I’m feeling inspired.  Maybe it’s the cold weather, or the store displays of chunky, textured cowls, or maybe it’s just the desire to keep my hands busy as I plow through my usual line-up of holiday movies, but I’m ready for a project.  I’m also feeling the need to justify the yarn-buying binge I found myself caught up in a couple of years ago…

I spent a couple of hours online yesterday prowling for ideas and could easily bust out a super-simple loop scarf  (think Anthro minus the high price tag), but Lord knows I’ve knitted my fair share of scarves, so perhaps I’ll try something new (maybe a variation on this necklace/scarf thingy?).  Whatever I pick, I can assure you that I’ll be spending Sunday afternoon with a pile of yarn in my lap and Little Women playing on the TV.  ‘Tis the season.

Due to all the traveling we’ve done this year, Shane and I decided to forego our usual Thanksgiving trip to Minnesota and instead spend the holiday closer to home, in Portland with my brother’s family.  We arrived on Thursday morning, and from the moment we set foot inside Mitch and Kathryn’s cozy home, the blessings of family were lavished upon us.  Morgan looked up at me with her big brown eyes and I scooped her up in my arms; Elise giggled her three year-old giggle and we quickly started making our play plans.  Mitch put the turkey in the oven and Kathryn and I got caught up with each other’s latest goings-on.  Goodness, these people are special to me – and their home has become a place full of so much comfort and joy for Shane and I.

Since we won’t see the girls at Christmas, and since Elise saw the gifts we’d brought and couldn’t contain her excitement, we opened presents that afternoon.  The blocks we bought for Morgan were a huge hit with both kids – Elise is an expert tower-builder, and Morgan is the queen of destruction (you can guess what happened about three seconds after I snapped this photo).

Post-presents, we put the finishing touches on the big Thanksgiving feast.  Elise has taken after her parents and loves to cook – she was eager to help with meal preparations and whipped up an extra-special soup for Uncle Shane with a few miscellaneous cupboard finds: oregano, raisins, and dried chili peppers in warm water.  Shane is smiling on the outside, but inside, he’s thinking, “How do I get out of having to eat this?!”

Morgan also loves being a part of the cooking action – she excels at: trying to climb in the dishwasher, finding anything that fell off the cutting board, and opening cupboard doors and drawers.  But seriously, how you not want this face in your kitchen?

We ate until our stomachs couldn’t hold a single bite more, and after the dishes were washed and the kids were tucked into bed, I stretched out on the sofa and thanked my lucky stars for apple pie and baby girls.

We all went out together on Friday morning to do a little shopping, and then spent the rest of the afternoon cozied up indoors.  Living room tea parties, rounds of Candyland, and snuggle time with little Morgan.  Lovely.

We spent this morning at Cathedral Park before hitting the long dusty trail back to Seattle.  After spending the previous 48 hours lounging and eating, it felt good to get out for a walk.  Elise skipped among the leaves and Morgan enjoyed the view from her stroller.

As I reflect this weekend on things that I am thankful for, family both near and far, is at the top of my list.

Loving on this chilly Fall weekend…

Classical music:  We’ve visited the two different symphonies over the past two weekends, and for the first time in recent memory, I heard the music, and I really, really dug it.  Maybe Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky are acquired tastes, like wine or coffee – and as was the case after countless glasses of Cabernet and mugs of hot lattes, I think I’m making progress in appreciating the finer things in life.

Boots:  I’ve officially tucked anything sandal-like back into the deep recesses of my closet, and my new black riding boots are getting lots of play these days.  At the risk of sounding much more practical than fashionable, I’ll admit that what I love more than anything is the fact that I can wear my thick, cozy socks with them.  It’s amazing when comfort and style converge in a perfect pair of shoes, isn’t it?

Art books:  I’ve recently added a few new ones to my bookshelf and am really, really loving this collection of works by Yves Klein.  Shane and I saw a big exhibit of his work when we were in Minneapolis last winter, and I haven’t been able to get the image of his ‘fire paintings‘ out of my head since.

Big pots of hearty soup:  Sunday has become soup day in our house.  Which means Monday, and Tuesday, and sometimes Wednesday are soup days as well (which means less ‘cereal days’, which is a good thing)…

Adios, weekend…  And hello, three-day work week – woot!

Yes, it’s been awhile since I gave this old blog some love – work has been pretty all-consuming for the past couple weeks, which meant that many of my favorite pastimes have fallen by the wayside.  I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks, I haven’t read anything other than emails and excerpts from the building code, and I’m in danger of completely forgetting the combination to my gym lock.  But finally, the drawings are out the door, the deadline has been met, and after a day-long, crazy-good stress detox, I am back.  I set yesterday aside as a me-day (kind of a ‘Treat Yo-Self 2011’ for all you Parks and Rec fans) – no work, no chores, just true R and R.  I woke up late, I spent awhile reading at a cozy little table while enjoying a buttermilk biscuit and latte from Macrina, I booked a massage and simultaneously cringed and sighed as the masseuse worked the knots out of my shoulders, and I spent an hour wandering through the mall, enjoying the Holiday displays and running my fingers over stacks of thick, cozy sweaters.  I had moments where I thought, “I should check my work email”, or “I shouldn’t spend money on a massage when I have Christmas gifts to buy”, but ultimately decided that I had earned the right to be completely self-indulgent, so I shrugged my jello-y shoulders, dug into the box of chocolate-peanut butter goodies that Shane’s mom sent us, and reveled in the feeling of guilt-free relaxation.  I remember the first time I heard the words “mental health” day – I laughed a little, because it just sounded so…subjective, and kinda hippy-dippy.  But after seeing what a day off can do to take away the crazy, I’m a believer.  I lived life in the slow lane, and let me tell you, I’ll be keeping the pedal off the metal for as long as humanly possible.

I really, really love Fall.  The anticipation of the soon-to-arrive holidays, steaming hot bowls of homemade soup for dinner, evenings spent cozied up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book or a new episode of Parenthood, and the leaves…O.M.G., the leaves.  Shane and I took a walk through Washington Park Arboretum yesterday and were blown away by the intense hues of golden yellow, bright coral, deep red, and translucent green.  I bet I say this every year, but dang, these trees are more stunning than I’ve ever seen them before.

I remember sitting around a table with a group of friends from church during the holiday season several years ago, and as we took turns sharing about things that made us particularly thankful, one of the ladies at the table quickly piped up and said, ‘Color.  God is so incredible for giving us color.’

Amen, sister.

While Shane and I were in Amsterdam, we got an email from Kathryn with a video attached – our sweet little niece had officially started crawling… I smiled to see Morgan scooting across the screen of my iPhone, and then was immediately struck with panic – how could she be crawling already? What else was I missing? How many more months of true ‘baby-ness’ does she have left? And so right then and there, in the middle of the Van Gogh museum, we made plans to get down to Portland on our first weekend back from vacation.

I looked forward to this visit all week, and as soon as we set foot inside Mitch and Kathryn’s house yesterday afternoon, and Morgan looked up at me with her wide-eyed, two-toothed grin, all was right with the world again. Dang, I’ve missed that little girl. She is cuddly and good-natured and will make you crazy (in a good way) with her sweet little voice cooing ‘hi’ and ‘uh-oh…’ (the only two discernible words in her vocabulary as of yet). I gave her a pre-bedtime bottle last night and then never wanted to let her go as she nuzzled into my chest and fell asleep while I burped her. Seriously, this little one doesn’t mess around when it comes to melting your heart.

Elise is the second reason we couldn’t wait to get down to Portland. She is definitely a three year-old – funny and charming and inquisitive, but also dramatic and moody and a little bit too much like her Auntie Kelly when she’s hungry or tired. One minute, she will try to convince you that life as she knows it is over because she really, really needs cranberry juice and the fridge only contains apple juice. But the next minute, she will curl up in your lap and let you read her a story and remind you that behind the drama, there is still an incredibly sweet, lovey little girl inside.  And the sound of her laughter as she splashes in puddles or gets frisbee-throwing lessons from Uncle Shane is priceless.

Thanks, little ladies, for a truly lovely weekend…

Indeed, yesterday was our last full day in Paris – as is usually the case with vacation, we felt like our trip was ending far too soon. We awoke to chilly gray skies but were determined to make the most of the precious time we had left, so we bundled up and took the Metro up to Montmartre to visit Sacre Coeur and walk the neighborhood’s charming streets and staircases. It was colder than we expected up on the hill, so we warmed ourselves in a cafe and then grabbed a glass of vin chaud (mulled wine) to go, wondering if 11 am was too early to start drinking wine, but coming back to the phrase, ‘When in Paris…’. We snaked our way down the hill, doing our best to dodge the tourists and enjoy the quieter side of Montmartre.

From there, we took the Metro south to St. Germain to visit Patrick Roger’s boutique – he is one of the most famous chocolate-makers in Paris, and I’d heard that his unique flavor combinations are not to be missed. We admired the life-size chocolate gorilla in the window, picked out an assortment of goodies to bring home with us, and then headed back out, thankful to see the sun poking through the clouds.

We had lunch at a cute little alley-side cafe, swung by Sadaharu Aoki for a caramel tarte (I know, I’m out of control), and then walked over the Jardin de Luxembourg to fully enjoy the sunshine that had now completely overtaken the sky.

We sat in our favorite spot and ate our tarte (which was buttery, sweet, salty, and delicious, by the way). I have so many good memories of soaking in the sun with Shane in this park. If I could take a piece of Paris and put it in Seattle, it would be Luxembourg gardens.

I could have sat there all day, but seeing as how we had only a few hours of daylight left, we peeled ourselves from our chairs and walked back toward the Marais, stopping on the Pont des Arts to snap a photo before the ‘So sad we’re leaving’ blues turned those smiles upside-down.

Shane wanted to rest for awhile at the apartment and I wanted to take one last stroll around Ile Saint Louis, so we parted ways and I set out for the little island. Since it was Saturday afternoon, the streets were crowded and busy, so I popped into Eglise Saint Louis to sit for a few minutes and enjoy the quiet of the empty church.

And a final spin along the tree-lined streets, which are so perfectly, quintessentially Parisian.

I headed back to the apartment to get Shane, and then we set out for the western tip of Ile de la Cite to watch the sun set over the Seine. I really don’t believe this spot can be topped on the romance-o-meter.

We had aperitifs on the sidewalk at La Comedie, the bar just downstairs from our apartment. I have really taken a liking to my pre-dinner Kir, and Shane is now a Ricard man all the way.

Our original dinner plans didn’t pan out, but we were happy to stumble upon a Marais cafe that we remembered really liking last time we were in Paris. Our table was cozy, the food was good, and we reflected on the highs and lows of the trip, feeling thankful for the over-abundance of highs we’ve enjoyed over the past two weeks.

We leisurely walked back to our apartment, enjoying the bustle of the Marais on a Saturday night – every seat was filled at every cafe terrace, music and chatter and weekend merriment coming from every bar and cafe.

The jazz club just around the corner from us offered free entry after midnight, so after getting our bags packed and the apartment ready for check-out the next morning, we headed over to the Duc Lombards to see if the band on stage that night was any good. And they were – we scored a great stage-side table, sat back, and enjoyed our last night in Paris with a heaping amount of ‘cool’.

I got up early this morning to take one last walk and say good-bye to the city. The sun had just risen, the streets were quiet, and as I walked past Place Vendome and through Tuileries to the Louvre, I took in Paris’ one-of-a-kind beauty with a little bit of sadness – it’s really tough to see this vacation come to an end. But through the melancholy, there’s a lot of thankfulness and joy, and a hope that one day not too, too far from now, we’ll be back.

Au revoir, Paris. You’ll be missed.