little black journal

The past couple days might very well go down as one of the best weekends of 2012.  I know, it’s still early in the year, so I might be jumping the gun, but we did some serious lovin’ life and livin’ large this weekend.  On Friday afternoon, we hit the road with Jack and La Verne and headed east to snowy Leavenworth for a big-bash weekend to celebrate Jack’s birthday.  La Verne had found an amazing house and loaded the car with food and wine, and from the moment we opened the door, set our bags down, and watched Jack pop the sugar-crusted slow-roasted pork in the oven for dinner, I knew: this would be epic.  The rest of the party people trickled in as the evening went on, and by 10:00, all fourteen of us were sitting around the living room, enjoying the warmth of a fire and the company of good friends.

It was dark when we arrived on Friday evening, so I was happily surprised when I awoke on Saturday and found that the house was perched on a ridge overlooking a river on one side a pear orchard on the other, in the midst of serene, snowy, pine-covered mountains.  I took one look out the huge living room windows and was ready to move in.

In addition to the incredible views, the house came with its very own ukelele – I couldn’t resist snapping a pic as La Verne strummed its strings and Shane gazed pensively out the window.  Such a Zen kind of morning…

A few of the guys headed out to hit the slopes at Stevens while the rest of us cozied up for a day at the house.  I changed out of my pajamas around 11 am and did a little yoga with La Verne and Alice, then showered, napped, read, had a living room dance party with little Gryffin and Isaiah (I would understand if Nancy never forgives me for introducing her boys to Britney Spears…), and generally reveled in the joy of a warm mountain cabin.  The clouds parted in the afternoon and Shane and I took a short walk to check out the orchard and the amazing little terrace overlooking the river.  We sat on a bench and took in the view while the sun warmed our faces – it was, in a word, perfection.

We all convened in the kitchen once the skiers got home and feasted on hearty helpings of spaghetti and meatballs – this was Mike and Alice’s first weekend away with the group, and I believe Mike used the phrase “eating like kings” at some point.  Welcome to life with Jack and La Verne, dude!  It’s goooooood.

We sat around the table and ate and played games and drank and laughed, eventually making our way to the living room to build a fire and sprawl out on the couches and floor for more laughter and story-telling.  Sometimes I wish I had a tape recorder for our bizarre, hilarious late-night conversations.  Then again, some things are better left unrecorded…  I went to bed that night with abs sore from so much giggling.

Sadly, we had to check out on Sunday morning, but not before enjoying a few more precious moments in the snow.

I’m so glad I documented Brian’s beard-stache combo while it lasted – he showed up on the doorstep on Friday night in a brightly wrapped box, and when Nicole told Jack to open his present, he found…this:  Brian had carved away at his beard and styled his facial hair extra-fancy just for Jack (who has admitted to a total inability to cultivate anything more than a patchy fuzz on his own baby-skinned face).  Sometimes you have to get creative when gift-giving for the man who has everything – well done, Brian.  Well done.

The birthday boy and his rockstar wife…

We stopped in the town of Leavenworth on our way home, saddened to have said good-bye to our party pad, but finding consolation in beer, brats, and gelato.

We made it back to rainy Seattle mid-afternoon, the weather here fitting for the post-party funk I quickly fell into.  On the bright side, I have so much to be thankful for in the friendships we’ve found in this funny, close-knit, brilliant group of people.  We have already declared this trip an annual tradition – and I’m counting down the days to 2013.

As much as I loved being home for the holidays, we were all ready for a little mini-break once Christmas was over, so on Monday morning Shane, his parents, and I hopped in the car and headed north to catch the ferry to Victoria.  Almost six hours later, we checked into our lovely rooms at Magnolia Hotel and set out in search of lunch.  We ended up at Bard and Banker for some pub-style fare and then spent some time wandering through downtown’s charming little streets.

As soon as the sun set, I was eager to check out the Inner Harbor, since I’ve heard the Christmas lights there are beautiful.  Indeed, it was like a different world at night – the distinguished, old Parliament building took on the character of a gingerbread house, and the dreary, wet streets we’d walked that afternoon now glittered with brightly colored reflections.

We stuffed ourselves with a seafood dinner and then called it a night – I kept my fingers crossed that I’d awake to blue skies the following morning, so that we could see Victoria really shine during the day.  No such luck…

Yep – gray, gray skies and rain all day on Tuesday.  We did the scenic drive along the coast and marveled at the huge water-view houses, and then took refuge from the rain for another cozy pub lunch, this time at the Sticky Wicket.

And rain be damned, no vacation is complete without gelato, so we had one final stop to make before making the long trek home.

It was a perfectly mellow little trip – comfort food in cozy restaurants, Christmas lights strung on trees and buildings and boats, and quality time with family.  Pretty good stuff, eh?

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 was a weekend full of so much goodness, from the overladen table of Indian food we plowed through with Jason and Nancy on Friday night, to the salmon we pulled off the grill for dinner just a couple of hours ago.  And all kinds of summertime perfection in between…

I told Shane on Saturday morning that I was in the mood for an adventure – the sun was shining, our day was wide open, and I was itching to do something out of the ordinary.  However, inspiration wasn’t striking me, and so I figured I’d settle for a stroll down to our favorite ice cream shop for a scoop of salted caramel ice cream (life on the edge!) and a glass of wine on the back patio.  There are worse ways to spend a summer afternoon…  But Shane had bigger, better plans brewing, and as soon as I made it back from my morning run, I was given direct orders to take a quick shower, grab a blanket and a book, and hop in the car.  We were heading east, bound for Rattlesnake Lake for an afternoon picnic by the water.  Not too shabby, for a last-minute mini-getaway!

We spent hours laying on our blanket in the shade, feeling little spots of sunlight make their way through the canopy of leaves overhead.  Shane dodged each ray like it was a laser-beam (he overheats easily), but I was in sunshiny heaven.

We made a couple of pit-stops on the way back to Seattle (one for a mini-spree at the Banana Republic outlet in North Bend, then another for self-serve fro-yo at Yogurtland), and arrived home with just enough time to squeeze in a solid nap before dinner.  It’s surprising how sleepy an afternoon of lounging/eating/shopping can make you (or maybe I’m just lazy?).

We spent last night with our friends Jordan and Belinda – they are moving out of the country in a few weeks and needed some help emptying their liquor cabinet before they skip town.  Shane, being the selfless and giving friend that he is, was quick to offer his cocktail-consuming services.  We kicked off the night with Cadillac margaritas, and I wish I’d snapped a photo before we sipped (er…slurped) them all down.  They really were a thing of beauty – if summer could be captured in a single drink, I think it would be in that fresh, citrusy glass of Tequila-laced goodness.  We sat around the table for hours, chatting and drinking and snacking on the lemon tart I picked up from Whole Foods.  Shane has a new appreciation for Tequila.  And for friends like Jack that let him off the hook when he’s not quite feeling up for a previously-scheduled Sunday morning training run.

I spent much of today in the office (a total travesty), but whipped through my deadline to-do’s quickly enough to still enjoy a couple of sunny hours sitting on the back patio and working in the yard (I suppose the one unfortunate by-product of all this sun is the couple of neglected, dried-out plants that needed replacing in our back planter).  An evening jog down to the lake, dinner on the grill, and it was time to say so long to another lovely summer weekend.  Cheers!  And, sigh…

We spent this weekend keeping tradition alive, taking part in our fourth annual c-group camping trip.  We all piled into our cars on Friday afternoon, and by sundown we had set up our own little tent city in Larrabee State Park as sixteen of us gathered around the campfire to kick off a weekend of eating, lounging, laughing, and outdoors-ing.  Shane threw a whole slew of bratwursts on the grill for dinner, and thus, the feeding frenzy began (good thing I’d spent the previous three days eating light…).

The rest of the night was full of s’mores, beer, and campfire chat.  Is there any better way to spend a summer evening in the Pacific Northwest?

The fire did double duty all weekend, as both heat source and food cooker.  We roasted, toasted, grilled, and flame-broiled, at morning and at night.  Flame-toasted bagels for breakfast?  Mmmm-hmmm…

After breakfast, we headed over to the little stretch of beach near the campground for playtime.  The agenda:  frisbee-tossing, wiffle ball, rock-skipping, lounging.

Shane was thrilled to discover that his best little buddy, the G-man, is a fellow rock-skipper.

We headed back to the campsite for lunch, and then staked out a spot in a nearby field where the boys (and the athletically-inclined women) could play a game of football, while the less-inclined women could stretch out on the sidelines in the sun.  I’ll give you one guess as to which group I was in…

All that playing put us in the mood for Happy Hour and so we headed down the road for a round of super-fresh oysters at Taylor Shellfish. Sprinkled with lemon juice and paired with a glass (er…red plastic cup) of white wine, these were perfect.  One slurp and I was rethinking my long-held oyster-aversion.  Maybe it was the scenery, maybe it was the smell of salt-water wafting through the air, or maybe it was the company of such good friends, but wowsers, those were some tasty little suckers.

The rest of the evening was passed back at the campsite.  Shane spent some quality time with his other little buddy, Zebo, Jack grilled a chicken and veggie-kebob dinner that rivaled the meals we’re able to prepare at home in our fully-equipped kitchen, and we toasted marshmallows and told stories until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer (all of that chillin’ had me tuckered out).

It seemed we were all a little reluctant to leave this morning – it was hard to coax Brian, Shane, and Nicole (that’s her feet) out of their tree-anchored cocoons (I’m adding a hammock to the REI wishlist).

We sat around the campfire talking until check-out rules required us to begrudgingly break down camp and let the fire die (but not until we’d ended  s’mores smack-down: round 3, in which Jack completely changed the game with a bacon-chocolate-marshmallow creation).

I’m washing the smoke smell out of my clothes with a sigh tonight, knowing it will be a year before we’re able to embark on another weekend like this one.  There’s some solace in knowing that I’ll shortly be drifting off to sleep in our soft, cozy bed, but there’s also quite a bit of sadness in knowing that toasted marshmallows aren’t on the menu for breakfast tomorrow…

The past couple of weeks have been pretty low-key for us – we’ve stayed close to home, venturing out for game nights with friends or when pizza cravings call us to Tutta Bella, but other than that, we’ve been livin’ the slow life.  Hours have been whiled away reading on the couch (translation: napping with a book resting on my stomach) or watching old Harry Potter movies in preparation for our plans to see HP 7 next week.  These leisure-filled weekends and evenings have been nice, but a couple of days ago, I started to get antsy.  Itchy with the desire to visit someplace new, see something we’ve never seen before, get out and do some exploring.  So when a little instant message from Shane popped up on my computer on Friday afternoon with the words, “Should we go have an adventure tomorrow?”, I thought, “Hallelujah!  We’re skipping town!”  Granted, we use the word “adventure” lightly, as what we ended up planning was a day trip to Vashon Island (which is a 20-minute ferry-ride from Seattle), but still, I was looking forward to checking out this uncharted territory.

We woke to clear, sunny skies on Saturday morning – perfect ferry weather.  We drove right onto the boat after a short wait at the terminal, and we were off!

Shane had done a little research and we had a list of a couple of things to check out on the island, starting with the Saturday Farmer’s Market. Vashon is home to several small farms, and we were looking forward to perusing the local offerings.  I bought a carton of plump raspberries and devoured them with my morning coffee, admiring the piles of leafy greens and freshly-picked beans on the other tables, then feeling our hunger spike as we eyed the cheese stand and smelled the sizzling meat at the little taco booth on the corner.  And so we crossed the street for lunch at The Hardware Store, which we’d heard is the island’s most popular restaurant.  We settled into our table by the window and eyed the appetizing fare on the table next to us – the breakfast special and the fish tacos both looked super-tasty, so we ordered them both to share.  Verdict:  yum.  The food wasn’t fancy, but it was hearty, well-prepared, and just the fuel we needed for an afternoon of sight-seeing.

My expectations of spending several hours cruising a loop around the island were slightly unrealistic, as it turns out you can drive from one tip of the island to the other in 20 minutes flat, but we did stumble upon a jem when our meandering landed us at Point Robinson on Maury Island (the baby brother to Vashon Island, connected by an isthmus).  We walked down to the pebbly beach and found a perfect piece of driftwood from which we could soak in the sun and enjoy the view of Mount Rainer.  Then Shane threw some rocks (never gets old), we checked out the itty-bitty lighthouse (took all of 15 seconds), and walked one of the short trails that took us through the lush, fern-filled forests.  I love being able to experience sunny beaches and shady woods all in the space of 30 minutes – I suppose I was destined for the Northwest.

We hopped back in the car and headed over to the other side of Maury Island – Dockton was one of the larger words on the map, so I figured that must be where the town center is located, but in the 8 seconds that it took for us drive through Dockton’s main drag, I didn’t even see a post office, so we shrugged our shoulders and headed back toward Vashon.  We pit-stopped at Vashon Coffee Roasterie for ice cream sandwiches and a cold drink on the Mayberry-esque wood porch.  I think I saw Opie walk by (then again, I may have been delusional with the atypical dose of Vitamin D I’d gotten that day…).

We passed the rest of the afternoon visiting with our friend Michelle at her grandparents’ house on the island.  Michelle’s grandpa showed us around their impressive garden, full of corn and berries and quickly-sprouting beans, and then we all sat out on the back porch and chatted over cold lemonade and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies (seriously, her grandparents belong in the hospitality hall of fame).  Life out there seemed so peaceful, so un-rushed, so good.  Shane and I are already making retirement plans…  And honestly, who wouldn’t want to get their milk from a store that looks like this?!

Before long, it was time for us to catch our ferry back home, so we bid farewell to Michelle and to Vashon, knowing that our first visit wouldn’t be our last.  Our little “adventure” turned out to be of rather mellow proportions, but it turned out that just living the slow life island-style was still perfectly fulfilling.

It’s been kind of a garbage dump of a week, so I’ve had my sights set on this three-day weekend for the past few days.  Since Monday, I’ve been making my Saturday plans:  sleep in, roll out of bed only for a latte and a scone, and then roll back into bed for an afternoon with Harry Potter and Season 6 of Lost.  I believed it was just what I needed.  But then my more adventurous, more fun-loving better half turned to me on Thursday night and said, “What if we woke up on Saturday morning in a different country, instead?”  We quickly Price-lined a hotel in Vancouver, packed our bags, and as soon as the whistle blew on Friday afternoon, we were Canada-bound.

It wasn’t until I started looking online for things to do near our hotel that I realized July 1st was in fact Canada Day, so we would be in the thick of the country’s annual ‘birthday’ celebration.  As soon as we got into the city, traffic slowed to a crawl, as the streets were swarming with people clad in red and white, waving their maple leaf-adorned flags as they danced to the music of any number of bands that had set up shop on the street corners.  We snaked our way to our hotel, gladly ditched our car at the parking garage, and set out in search of 1) good food, and 2) general merriment and festive-ness.  Jack and La Verne had recommended Zakkushi for dinner, a cozy little Yakitori joint just a few blocks from where we were staying.  We snagged a couple of seats at the bar and promptly began ordering to our heart’s delight – items on the menu were about two dollars apiece, and we wanted to try to try just about everything.  For the next hour, the waitress brought us plate after plate of pork-wrapped asparagus, grilled quail eggs, and miscellaneous chicken parts, paired with cold, refreshing pints of Sapporo.

Happy and well-nourished, we waddled out of the restaurant and followed the throngs of people to the waterfront in hopes of catching the big fireworks show.  We staked out a little spot at the harbor’s edge and watched bang after bang of red and white lights.  I marveled at how unknowingly perfect our timing had been in our last-minute decision to make the trip up to Vancouver – you don’t see this every night!

Post-fireworks, we headed toward Gastown to check out the Pourhouse – an allegedly ‘legit’ bar where bartenders respect and know their cocktails.  Shane was determined to verify such rumors, so we plopped ourselves on a couple of barstools and promptly ordered our fist round of drinks.  Shane was impressed with his Fernet-laced Toronto, and my Golden Fizz (gin, lemon, egg, soda water) was perfectly creamy-but-light. Verdict: this bar was indeed legit.

By the time we left Gastown, it was nearly 1 am, which is pretty late for an old married couple such as ourselves, so we cabbed it back to the hotel and fell into bed with a couple of food and drink-induced smiles on our faces.  It had been a very good night.

I was delighted to see sun shining through the curtains early the next morning – I peeked outside and took in the view of the harbor and mountains, pleased that it would be a perfect day for touring the city.

Shane threw on his running clothes and headed out for a jog around Stanley Park.  I thought about joining him for all of six seconds, and then decided instead to head back to bed for awhile – I just wasn’t quite ready to give up on my plans of a Saturday sleep-in.  Hunger eventually pulled me back out of bed, and we left the hotel mid-morning in search of breakfast.  I followed a recommendation for a good crepe place just down the street, so we grabbed a quick bite and then decided that the sunshine was calling us back toward Stanley Park.  We found a place that offered cheap bike rentals, hopped on our super-rad orange cruisers, and we were off!  It was an incredibly leisurely ride, as we stopped every few minutes to take in the scenery and snap a few photos.  Shane said it was the longest bike ride he’d been on without breaking a sweat – that’s what I’m talkin’ about…

We returned our bikes mid-afternoon and knew that we needed to take advantage of Vancouver’s culinary offerings at least one more time before hitting the road.  We settled on ramen at Motomachi Shokudo, another trusted recommendation from Jack and La V.  And wowsers – these Vancouver-ites don’t mess around when it comes to their noodle soup!  Rich, flavorful broth filled with soft-but-not-too-soft noodles and tender slices of pork.  I dont think I’ll ever be able to go back to those 25-cent packages of Top Ramen that I loved so much in college…

We ended our trip in Yaletown, for gelato and a stroll along the waterfront, then down the charming brick-lined streets.  I love this neighborhood – we’re looking forward to spending more time here next time we’re back.

And with that, it was time to hit the long dusty trail back to Seattle.  Thanks, Canada – our spirits were higher when we left than we arrived, so I’d say our little getaway was a smashing success.

Shane sent me an email while I was at work yesterday that said something to the effect of, “Hey, it’s supposed to be really sunny this weekend.” I quickly replied with, “Really? Time for an adventure?” Within minutes, my all-star trip planner of a husband had mapped out a perfect little Saturday jaunt. We were up early-ish this morning, and after a quick breakfast with Jack and La V at Randy’s Diner in Tukwila (imagine Denny’s, but with an even older crowd, and even bigger pancakes!), Shane and I were off to Bellingham to do a little exploring. Our first stop was Larabee State Park, for some sunshine-absorbing and sight-seeing. We shivered when we stepped out of the car and into the crisp February breezes, but decided we would still brave the cold and take the short trail down to the water. Ten minutes later, we were standing on a tiny stretch of beach with the sun glinting off the waters of the Bellingham Bay, and I knew: this was going to be a very, very good day.  We tucked ourselves into a nice little spot on a rock out of the wind and spent awhile just listening to the sound of the water, breathing in the salty air, shedding the week’s stresses and to-do’s.  It was…perfection.

Post-walk, we headed into Bellingham to check out the town.  The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent eating, shopping, drinking, drinking, eating, and shopping.  Lunch at Taco Lobo, perusing the modern wares at Digs, coffee at Woods, cocktails at Temple Bar, dinner at Tivoli, and, for good measure, a quick stop at the Tulalip outlets on the way home.  Did I mention this day was perfect?  We had a chance to really get caught up with one another after a busy week, I delved deeper into Harry Potter book 4 while sipping an exceptionally creamy latte, we found the finishing touches for our dining room make-over, I discovered a new cocktail Shane can’t wait to mix up for me at home (a variation of the Sidecar:  Cognac, Cointreau, and lemon juice, served in a glass rimmed with cinnamon and sugar), and we both ate and ate till we could eat no more.  Thanks, Bellingham, for being so good to us when we really had no idea what to expect.

There is something so satisfying about a day that is simultaneously busy and relaxing – I’m heading to bed tonight tired, but refreshed.  Amazing what a mini-adventure can do for the soul…

I am often on the look-out for a reason to gather our friends for a little par-tay, and when I realized that my birthday, Shane’s birthday, and our good friend La Verne’s birthday all fell within just a couple of weeks of each other, the scheming began.  Shane and I were into the idea of a little celebratory getaway with the gang, and when we casually mentioned the idea to Jack and La V, they nodded their heads, their eyes got bright, and I knew:  this would be good.  Very good.

We all started scouring the internet for ideal party-house rentals, and Jack stumbled upon a sweeeeet water-front home on Whidbey Island with ample room for all of us.  Thus, Schnell-La-Palooza was officially booked!  And after much anticipation, we all boarded the ferry on Friday afternoon, ready for a weekend of eating, game-playing, hot-tubbing, and generally livin’ it up.  I will admit, I feared that the house might not live up to our high expectations, but I was wrong to worry – nestled into the woods, perched just above what felt like a private stretch of beach, it was perfect.

The entire weekend was fabulously chill, as we strolled on the beach, soaked in the hot tub, and got some serious mileage out of La Verne’s new X-Box Kinect (imagine Dance Dance Revolution meets Nintendo Wii, then triple the awesome-ness).  There were times when I enjoyed the quiet of curling up in the sun-room and reading Harry Potter, and there were times when all 14 of us sat around the dining room table together and laughed hysterically.  It felt very much like being on a family vacation – we were all free to do our own thing (a tree pose on the beach, in Shane’s instance), but at the end of the day, we all really wanted to share a meal together and just enjoy each other’s company.

Shane, Jordan, and Bees did a little beach-combing, and came back to the house with a dead jellyfish and a piece of driftwood shaped like a Moses staff.  One ocean’s trash is another man’s treasure, I guess…

The hot tub was a favorite hang-out for a few of us.  102-degree water with a view of the ocean and a beer in hand – life does not get much better…

I think La Verne took the X-box prize as dancer with the most style.  Jason took the prize for ‘most animated’.

When Jack mentioned that he had something special in mind for our birthday dinner, he wasn’t joking – hand-made pasta, topped with a perfect ragu (imagine little strands of heaven wrapped around a fork…).

After our perfect meal on Saturday night, we sat at the table for another couple of hours, playing a rousing game of True Colors, where we pinned people with title’s such as ‘best character for a scorchy romance novel’.  It’s been awhile since I’ve laughed so hard for so long.

We awoke to rainy skies on Sunday morning, which I suppose was appropriate, as I was seriously bummed to be packing up our things and bidding farewell to our cabin in the woods.  **Sigh.**

And so…Schnell-La-Palooza (dare I call it the first annual???) came to a close…  As if the weather gods knew I needed cheering up, the clouds parted as we crossed Deception Pass, giving us one final, beautiful view of the island.

Shane and I just returned from a weekend with my parents at their home in Central Oregon, enjoying a perfect dose of relaxation.  Mornings spent sleeping in, afternoons spent enjoying the great outdoors, and evenings spent cozying up by the fire in the living room and watching baseball on TV.  Lovely.  Some highlights:

After doing a little shopping and eating lunch in Bend on Friday, we headed over to Tumalo Falls to take a stroll and enjoy the scenery.  The waterfall was beautiful, as were the glowing-gold aspens set against full, bushy evergreens.  Shane skipped stones in the river, I found a perfectly seat-shaped rock to perch on and soak in the sun, and we all thought to ourselves how there’s nothing like a sunny, crisp Fall day in the Pacific Northwest.

Saturday we pointed the car south toward Crater Lake, in hopes of deepening our love affair with beautiful Central Oregon.  Success!  We ate lunch at the lodge (French onion soup in a cozy, log-walled lodge on a cool Autumn day = mmmmm…), then slowly wound our way back around the lake, stopping every few minutes to absorb the breath-taking view, snap some pictures, and marvel at how the color of the lake seemed to change with each viewpoint we stumbled upon.  I found it impossible to capture the magnificence of this collapsed-volcano-turned-lake in a single photo, so you’ll have to settle for these snippets of greatness.  Really, though, it was stunning…

(this photo courtesy of Shane’s iPhone handiwork) :

We spent Saturday evening at the house, watching the Giants crush (ok, barely squeak by) the Phillies in game one of the League Championship.  Bam!!!  Shane was so jazzed after their win that he challenged my dad to a 5-game ping-pong dual, which proved to be quite the aerobic workout for the both of them.  It was a battle to the end, but eventually they both emerged from the game room, sweaty and out of breath, my dad grinning and Shane hanging his head low (ok, it wasn’t quite that dramatic, but still, it was rather intense for a ping-pong game)…

I also spent much of the weekend cuddling with my parents’ lovable Mini Australian Shepherd, Bernie.  He is a total sweetheart of a dog, and if not for our busy work schedules and Shane’s unfortunate dog allergy, I would be scouring the internet now for a puppy to call our own.

And now, we’re home – bags unpacked, laundry in the washer, and preparations for another typical week underway.  The weekend was so very, very good while it lasted…