little black journal

We were up bright and early yesterday to catch a ferry from Mukilteo to Whidbey Island, to do some sightseeing with Shane’s parents and some catching up with friends we hadn’t seen in awhile.  We spent most of the day hanging out at our friend’s beautiful beach home -  Shane and his dad fished off the shore, while Shane’s mom and I enjoyed lounging in the sun.  I believe there are few things better than the feel of a cool ocean breeze blowing across your face as you squish soft, warm sand between your toes.  Heaven.

Shane was not so lucky in fishing endeavors, as he didn’t catch anything other than a sunburn on the back of his neck and the tops of his feet, but he wasn’t complaining.  Just the act of standing by the water, casting his line in and watching the waves crash, was enough to put a smile on his face.

Not a bad place to park yourself for a Sunday afternoon, huh?

Once we’d gotten our sand and sun fix, we headed into Coupeville for some scrumptiously fresh mussels at Toby’s, followed by ice cream cones from the parlor down the street.  Bellies full, it was time to bid farewell to the island, which we did by way of Deception Pass.  The view of the bay was amazing, but I was just as taken with the lacy structure of the steel bridge that crosses the pass.

And so another beautiful summer weekend in the Northwest came to a close (and I silently cursed the arrival of Monday)…

We got back this afternoon from an absolutely fantastic weekend of camping in the San Juan islands, enjoying the beauty of nature and the company of good friends.  We played on the beach (and laid on the beach), laughed around the campfire, caught a couple of beautiful sunsets, and fell in the love with the tiny little paradise that is Shaw Island.  Scenes from the weekend:

Our approach to the island.  The anticipation builds…

We set up camp on Friday evening and decided around 8:30 that we’d try to jet across the island to catch the sunset.  We made it just in the nick of time as we came across this little bay and west-facing view.

Saturday was a day to play and be lazy.  I spent much of the afternoon lounging in the sand with the ladies, while the boys played on the beach, skipping rocks, hitting rocks, and overturning them to see what kinds of little marine life might lie underneath (boys will be boys…).

That night we caught another beautiful sunset, then spent the rest of the evening sitting around the campfire, munching on s’mores, chatting and laughing, and enjoying the sound of the waves crashing on the beach adjacent to our campsite.

It was truly a perfect weekend in the woods – we are already talking about our next trip back, hoping this voyage to the island is something we can instate as an annual tradition.  It will be nice to sleep in my own bed tonight, but man, I will miss the sound of the ocean as I drift off to sleep…

Shane and I spent this weekend down in Central Oregon at my parents’ place, where we met up with my three closest girlfriends from California.  It was a fabulous couple of days – it was great to be reunited with this group of ladies that I’ve known for over a decade now.  We often don’t do as good a job as we’d like of keeping in touch, but the second we’re all together again, it feels as if we’ve never been apart.

Much of the weekend was spent just lounging around the house, playing ping-pong and board games and giggling ourselves silly.  But we did make sure to get a good dose of the outdoors – Central Oregon is home to some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve ever seen.  On Saturday afternoon, we did the grand tour of Newberry National Volcanic Monument.  This was the breathtaking view from the top of Paulina Peak:

And Shane was such a good sport, hanging out with a bunch of girls all weekend.  Bless his heart for enduring, and even enjoying, two full days of listening to our incessant giggling and reminiscing.

One of our last stops on Saturday was at the obsidian flow in Newberry Park.  Mounds and mounds of pumice and obsidian as far as the eye can see.  Sort of desolate-feeling, but also so beautiful.

And on the way home today, as Shane and I kept catching these amazing little glimpses of a snow-covered Mount Hood, we decided to take a short detour to Timberline Lodge to get a better view of the mountain.  Totally worth the trip – Shane and I walked around in our flip flops and took in the view while we watched geared-up skiiers come flying down snowy slopes.  Bizarre.

I was sad to see this weekend come to an end, but so thankful for the chance to enjoy some quality time with friends and family.  Already looking forward to our next reunion, wherever that may be…

Far too often, I take for granted the fact that we live in the midst of the Pacific Northwest and all its natural glory.  And so yesterday we resolved to embrace the outdoors, as we hopped in the car and headed east for a hike up Little Si (Mount Si’s smaller, less intimidating sister mountain).  I am not much of a hiker, but the 2.3-mile trip to the summit sounded manageable.  This hike wasn’t necessarily the leisurely stroll through the forest that I had imagined – within a few minutes I had broken a sweat and fallen short of breath – but as we pressed on, I fell into a groove and we were soon at the summit.  We found a place to sit on a rock and take in the views of the mountains and valleys and endless blankets of lush green trees all around us.  Well worth the sweat.

We are talking about conquering Mount Si later this summer – now if only there were a Margarita stand at the top…

Shane and I embarked on our third annual Christmas tree hunt yesterday.  We stayed true to tradition and went to the same tree farm out in the North Bend that we’ve enjoyed so much the past two years.  We bundled up, grabbed a saw, and spent nearly an hour wandering around the farm, in search of that perfect tree.  After examining all of the possibilities and asking each other, “Is that one too tall?  Too short?  Is it full enough?  Too full?  Are all of these starting to look the same to you?”, we settled on a 7-foot tall Douglas Fir.  Shane hacked it down with a few swift strokes of the saw, we paid our bill (while helping ourselves to some complimentary apple cider – mmm…), and the tree was ours.  The next task at hand was getting this thing home – in previous years, we’ve put down the back seats of our Civic and jammed our poor little tree inside the car.  This year, we were bold enough to strap it to the roof of our Honda Civic, despite the fact we don’t have a roof rack.  Twenty minutes later, we had it all tied up, but since neither one of us have our knot-tying badges, we were a little anxious about just how secure the tree actually was.  The parking lot attendant’s last words to us as we left were, “You’ll be ok, if you don’t drive fast.”  Ummm… we had thirty miles of freeway separating us from our house.  To the chagrin of all the other cars on I-90, we drove 50 mph the whole way home.  But we made it, with tree still in tow.

Then came the fun of stringing lights and decorating the tree.  My mom and dad have been giving me a Christmas ornament every year since I was a kid, so opening up the ornament box unlocks all sorts of fond memories.  It’s fun to think that I have been unwrapping and hanging some of these same ornaments for over 20 years.  I will sacrifice a perfectly decorated, color-coordinated tree any day for a tree with meaning.  And all of of my varied little angels, and glass kittens, and plastic snowflakes are quite lovely, actually…

Today was a Great day, with a capital G.  We had a leisurely morning, worked in the yard a little, and then headed out to North Bend (about 30 miles east of Seattle) to check out a pumpkin patch I’d read about on-line.  I am embarassingly nostalgic and have tried again and again since Shane and I have been married to instate new “Schnell family annual traditions” – activities we’ll continue to enjoy for decades to come.  In rare instances (ok, make that instance, singular), my idea has seemed to stick – we head to a tree farm east of here every December to pick out and cut down our own Christmas tree.  Today’s visit to the pumpkin patch was another attempt at beginning a new tradition, and after just a couple of hours out at the base of Mount Si, I can tell you that we won’t be letting another fall go by without a trip out here.  I can only pray that we’ll have weekend weather like this during Octobers to come.  So fantastically beautiful…

My little punkin’ head…

Our wagon full of loot – we came in search of just one single pumpkin to put on our front porch, but walked away with five.  I knew I had a weakness for cute shoes and good chocolate, but now apparently I have one for perfectly shaped pumpkins as well.

And a trip out to the country just wouldn’t be complete without a pasture full of cows… There is something so serene about this shot.

And so, I have moved on from mourning the passage of summer – fall is looking pretty spectacular right about now.  And we’ve discovered the perfect way to celebrate the beginning of autumn.  I realize that this single visit to the pumpkin patch doesn’t quite deserve “tradition” status, but I’m hopeful that this is a place we’ll enjoy going to for years to come.  Stay tuned for fall rituals, part II: “Shane carves a jack-o-lantern”.  Should be good.

Shane and I have been talking about a getaway over to Eastern Washington’s wine country for awhile now, so when Jack and LaVerne invited us to head over to Walla Walla with them for the weekend, I thought, “Good wine?  Fantastic weather?  Time with good friends?  Yes, Please!”  And we were off…

Our first stop on Saturday was at Hightower Cellars in Red Mountain.  The wines there were good, but I found myself particularly taken with this wall constructed out of planks cut from old barrels.  Very cool.

From Red Mountain, we headed farther east and made a stop at L’Ecole No. 41.  This was a very cool spot – the tasting facility was set in an old schoolhouse.  Very charming.  Again I found myself spending more time looking at the building than actually tasting the wines, but that would soon change.  My palette had only been teased at this point, although we were certainly on our way to having an absolutely fantastic day.  Look at those smiles…

After L’Ecole, we headed farther east to an area just south of Walla Walla.  This was where we really started getting into the good stuff.  We popped into a tiny little winery called a’Maurice and I tasted a Viognier that made my eyes get wide and my taste buds go, “Wow!”  K Vintners had a Syrah I really enjoyed and a farmhouse that Shane and I are hoping to retire in one day.  And Waters Winery had a Cab that I will probably dream about next time we are craving a good glass of wine on a chilly Seattle evening.  We hit a lot of wineries and tasted a lot of wine that day (I believe the final tally was 30 pours!), but we somehow still managed to take things slow and soak in the beautiful scenery and warm Walla Walla sunshine.

The fruit on the vines was full and plump and ripe for the picking.  Many of the vineyards were just beginning their crush.  I was glad we were able to see the vines while many of them still held grapes – a vineyard just doesn’t quite seem like a vineyard without these purply clusters.

We kicked off Sunday with a trip to the Walla Walla farmer’s market.  The market was small, but was stocked with some fantastic deals on produce.  We walked away with a heavy sack of plums for $3, and Jack and LaVerne purchased several pounds of tomatoes for just a couple of dollars.  Walla Walla has such a small-town feel to it – quiet, quaint, and full of very friendly people.  The real charm of the town really shone through when the old, slightly overweight Elvis impersonator jumped onto the small market stage and begain his round of Elvis tunes adn 11 a.m.  No one batted an eyelash, as if this were perfectly typical town entertainment.  I have to say, the guy wasn’t half-bad.  And his bright blue, bell-bottomed jumpsuit was an impressive fashion statement.

We hit three more wineries that day, concluding our whirlwind trip with a tour of Col Solare Vineyards in Red Mountain.  We got the insider’s scoop and were able to check out the wine tanks, the cellar, and stroll among the vines.  The view from the winery’s terrace was stunning, and the sun that hit us as we stood there was so wonderfully intense.  I was reminded of California for a moment.

This was such a perfect little weekend jaunt.  I definitely have some work to do on my palette – I don’t feel like I can pick up the subleties of what makes a certain wine really special – but if practice makes perfect, I’m willing to do my homework on this one…

Shane and I returned this afternoon from a weekend down at my parents’ house in LaPine, Oregon (25 miles south of Bend), and though the 6-hour drive was long, the trip was well worth it.  Some of our best times down there are when we just hang around the house – Shane and my dad will engage in a die-hard ping-pong match while my mom and I contentedly knit together on the couch – but it’s also fun to get out and do some exploring.  Friday was nature day, as we drove over to Falls River and did some wandering along the riverbank.  I snapped photos, Shane skipped rocks, and we all did what we could to soak in every last drop of the quickly-vanishing summer.

Saturday we sacrificed a walk in the woods for a stroll through the posh streets of Bend.  I am becoming quite taken with this town: lots of wonderful little cafes and restaurants, a beautiful park that borders the Deschutes River, and several of those want-inducing, but all-too-expensive, trendy boutiques.  We spent some time wine-tasting at a cozy Italian restaurant and then walked through the park along the water, stopping to admire the beautiful homes that border the river.  I have a feeling that Bend will be even bigger next time we visit – hopefully it continues to climb the cool-factor charts as well…

Last night we enjoyed a quiet evening at the house, reading, knitting, ping-ponging.  I convinced my dad to build a fire in the wood-burning stove (whether or not it was really cold enough for a fire was debatable, but he humored me nonetheless), and I found such pleasure in just lounging around with my family.

It was hard to leave after only two days there, but such is the life of a working couple, I suppose…

Shane and I spent the weekend camping with friends over in Dosewallips State Park on the Olympic Peninsula.  It was a perfect weekend to enjoy the outdoors (minus the rain that set in around 11 this morning – thank goodness we packed up camp early).  Sipping Coronas from our lawn chairs in the sun, toasting marshmallows around a blazing fire, waking up to the sound of breeze in the trees…  This is the stuff camping is made of.

Despite the temptation to sit around the site and eat/drink/chat/doze/be lazy, we did decide to burn off some of those s’mores by taking a short hike on one of the trails in Olympic National Park.  Every time I get out into the woods, I am reminded of how much I love the color GREEN…  I was especially taken with the moss that crawled and dripped over the rocks and trees.

And Shane is reminded of how much he loves to skip rocks (seriously, this guy could go at it for hours).

This was a great little getaway.  But I’ve discovered that I’m definitely just a weekend camper – I always enjoy myself, but by Sunday afternoon, I’m ready for a shower, a hot cup of tea, and an evening on the couch.  Watching the rain fall from the comfort of our living room feels pretty good right now.

After weeks of talking about how much we want to/need to get out of town, Shane and I finally pulled a plan together and headed to Vancouver, BC for the weekend.  A very uneventful drive and border crossing brought us into the city around 11 am yesterday.  The weather was fantastic, and so we headed straight to Stanley Park to soak up some rays and bask in beauty of all these wonderful shades of green.  The size of the park can be a little overwhelming at first, and so we just picked a destination on the park map and headed in that direction, sure that we would enjoy whatever trails we ended up on.  Our destination was Beaver Lake, which turned out to be more of a marsh than a lake, but it turns out that a sea of lily pads can be just as pretty as a sea of water.

After our nature-dose, we went over to Yaletown for lunch.  We stumbled upon a Thai restaurant with an all-you-can-eat lunch special and a patio in the sun, and so we grabbed a table and started ordering away.  Spring rolls, yellow curry, cashew chicken, garlic pork, rice pudding…  I am always a little uncertain about what kind of quality to expect from anything that is all-you-can-eat, but the food was actually quite good.  We practiced restraint as best as we could and left feeling satisfied, but not over-stuffed, and ready for more sight-seeing.

We checked into our hotel downtown and spent a couple of hours wandering around the downtown core.  Strolled down Robson Street, but again, in the name of restraint, I did not go into any stores.  The sidewalks felt a little crowded in this part of town, and so we decided to head over to the Seawall and enjoy walking along the water.  Vancouver has so many great places to sit on a bench and take in the scenery, which is just what we did for the first part of our evening.

Once our Thai lunch was fully digested (which took several hours), we walked over to Gastown to grab some beer and food.  Found a great little bar/pub with a small terrace area and spent a couple of hours drinking, eating, chatting.  Shane and I hadn’t realized how long it had been since we’d spent an entire evening just focusing on each other.  It was good to catch up.

After dinner, we spent awhile strolling around Gastown.  This neighborhood is somewhat reminiscent of Seattle’s Pioneer Square, but it’s a little more touristy and a little more “rough around the edges”.  I love the character of Gastown’s old brick buildings, but in between those beautiful old buildings are some super-sketchy alleyways…  The recommendation of a trusted friend led us down one of those sketchy alleys and into this amazing little tucked-away wine and cheese bar called The Salt Tasting Room.  Our time here was probably the highlight of the weekend.  Clean, simple decor, dim lighting, and a chalkboard wall filled with listings of their current meat and cheese selections.  Not being cheese connoisseurs by any stretch, we asked out waitress to surprise us with a sample platter of her recommendations, paired with whatever wines she thought best.  I have always liked cheese, but after last night, I have found that I actually loooove cheese.  She brought us a creamy blue cheese, which we drizzled with honey, an aged cheddar, and a Compte that made me go “mmmmmmm…” every time I took a bite.  The wines were fantastic as well.  My only wish is that we would have had room in our stomachs to sample some of the meats.  Next time, I guess (and there WILL be a next time at this place).

Our room had a great view and the perfect end to a perfect day was laying in bed and looking out the window at this.  Not bad…

We spent this morning at Granville Island, wandering through the huge public market and checking out a few of the local shops and art galleries.  I could have spent an entire day at the market, indulging my senses.  Granville has this great little water park right next to the market, where kids can romp around the fountains while parents lounge on the nearby grass, and though we are neither kids nor parents, we still enjoyed spending awhile here, just checking out the scene from our shady bench.  This part of town is definitely another thing on our “revisit” list.

It was a hard to leave after getting just the smallest taste of all this city has to offer.  The question now is: when can we go back?