Saturday began with coffee at Barista – reputed to be one of Portland’s finest coffee shops.  I went with the standard latte (although it was much better than ‘standard’), but Jack pulled out the big guns and ordered a cup of their specialty vacuum pot coffee.  Watching the barista brew this cup of coffee was like taking part in a chemistry experiment – I couldn’t begin to explain the entire process, but I can tell you that these people take their coffee seriously.

Post-caffeine fix, we headed over to the Portland Farmers Market to pick up the fixin’s for an afternoon picnic.  This market is a-mazing.  Row after row of brightly colored berries, mouth-watering baked goods, artisan cheeses, yum, yum, yum…

We walked away with a bag full of goodies and pointed the car south – destination: wine country!  The region just south of Portland is home to some of the Northwest’s most beautiful vineyards, and we spent the afternoon sipping some fantastic Pinot Noirs amidst the rolling hills of vines.

We headed back into the city late afternoon and spent some time just lounging on the grass at a nice little part in Northwest Portland, people-watching, sun-soaking, and building up our hunger for our much-anticipated dinner at Tanuki.  This tiny little restaurant, tucked away among all the other storefronts on NW 21st, doesn’t look like anything special from the outside.  In fact, even after a round of drinks and happy hour appetizers, I was not overly impressed.  Then we ordered our dinner (actually, we didn’t really even ‘order’ dinner – we just told our server what we wanted to spend as a group and asked her to bring us a compilation of things that would fit that bill).  And then the food started coming.  And coming.  And coming.  She must have brought us 12 to 15 different plates, from Unagi to quail eggs to Chinese sausage, to a whole slew of things that I didn’t recognize, but readily ate.  We finally had to ask our server to just stop bringing us food – otherwise, we were in danger of not fitting out the door.  That was a meal.

We ended the evening with drinks with Mitch at Crowbar on Mississippi – wonderfully chill, after such a full day.  I fell into bed that night with a perfection-induced smile on my face.

Jack and La V headed back to Seattle early this morning, and Shane and I stuck around for awhile to spend some time with my brother and his family.  Elise is turning into such a beautiful little girl, full of new questions and new expressions.  She still adores her Uncle Shane – while running around at the playground, she bonked her head and began to cry.  She ran right past everyone’s offers to comfort her and right into Shane’s lap, gazing up at him with that irresistible little smile through her tears.  Precious.

And far too soon, it was time to hop back in the car and head back to Seattle.  Au revoir, weekend…

I rolled out of bed on Saturday morning to head down to the lake to cheer Jack on as he finished his 1.2-mile swim and transitioned into his 56-mile bike ride.  It was a beautiful morning, and exciting to watch the swimmers emerge from the water to run toward their bikes – felt kind of like a Baywatch episode, but with full-coverage wetsuits.  Jack finished his swim like a champ, and was off on his bike in no time.

As Jack was biking, Shane, La V, and Jason were all running in the Chelan 10k.  Here’s the crew pre-race – you can see that J has his serious game face on…

A remarkably short time later, Nancy and I stood at the finish line and cheered on our runners as they each breezed past us.  I love my friends, but they sure can make me feel lazy!  What a bunch of studs.  This picture of La V is great – like she’s saying, ‘Yeah, I just ran 6.2 miles.  Ain’t no thang.’

During all of this, Jack was still biking, on his way to transitioning into his 13.1-mile run.  Incredible.  A couple of hours later, we were all back at the finish line, waiting for our all-star to round the corner and complete the journey that he’s been on for months, with countless hours logged in preparation for this moment.  I think all of our chests swelled up with pride as he gave us a wave on his way to the finish, and we said to ourselves, “Wow, I actually know that stud!”

I figured Jack would want to spend the afternoon stretched out on the couch with an ice pack and a tall glass of water, but, true to Jack form, he had other plans.  Just a short while after his race was done, Jack was driving us out to the nearby wineries do some tastings (to ‘rehydrate’, of course).  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised – this is the same guy that convinced Shane it would be a good idea to pop over to a Mercer Island winery to do some wine tasting in the middle of one of their first really long bike rides (just to ‘rest their legs’, of course)…

The rest of the day was perfectly chill, spent grilling out on the back porch, playing games, and welcoming Brian and Nicole, who arrived at the condo late that night, to say a farewell to us all on their way to Colorado.  Sunday was Lake Day – we staked a claim on a perfect patch of grass right near the shore, spread out our beach towels, and spent a couple of hours alternating between sun-bathing and swimming.

Shane was thrilled to spend some quality time with his best bud, G-man.

And I have to say, you are never too old for a good ‘group jump’ into the water.  (Photos by Daniel Lee).  Shane is still living down the fact that he completely bailed on us (that’s him, standing lamely on the dock while the rest of us launched ourselves into the water)…

Post-lake, we had time for one more Little-League-esque group shot of our athletes, and then it was time to head back west, toward taller buildings and cloudier skies.  This was a tough place to leave behind!

Peyto Lake was impossible to top, but we made several other stops along the way, hopping out of the car to snap a few photos or skip a few rocks.

We spent the afternoon at Lake Moraine, drinking in the view of more turquoise water from our little rented canoe.

And one final quiet evening at the campsite – Shane polished off the rest of our screwcap wine while I kept the fire stoked, and we thought to ourselves, “This was just what we needed.”

On Friday morning, we made one last stop at Lake Louise on our way out of town, knowing that it could be a very long time before we came across anything this beautiful again.  *Sigh*.

The drive home was loooong, but we made it back to Seattle in one piece on Friday night, eager to wash the smell of campfire out of our hair and sleep in our own comfy bed.  And with that, our week in the great outdoors was behind us.  *Double sigh*…

Then we climbed…

And climbed…

And decided to stop for photos of each other while we were both still smiling…

Climbed some more, and voila!  Victory!  4.2 miles later, we had reached our destination, where we each flopped down on a nice flat rock and sighed a big fat sigh of satisfied pride.  The view was stunning, the air was perfectly crisp and fresh, the deep blue sky was strewn with puffy white clouds, and I think we each said a silent thank you to God for being so amazingly talented.

After catching our breath, we picked ourselves up and made our way down the mountain in record time, stopping at the bottom to get a good look at the way the change in the sun’s angle had altered the color of the lake.

Our aching feet told us we’d earned the right to forsake our cold cuts on wheat bread for burgers and fries in downtown Banff.  And I will not apologize for eating out while camping, ’cause those sweet potato fries were gooood.  The rest of the evening was spent lounging around the campsite, reading, popping open a bottle of screw-cap wine, and keeping the fire stoked.  And I was convinced, we just might be onto something with this whole camping thing…

Anyhow, after a long drive, we arrived at our campsite Monday afternoon, tired but eager to set up camp and then explore the sights.  Sadly, just as we began to unpack our tent, raindrops started to fall, and though it never poured, it sprinkled on and off throughout the evening. Thankfully, it was still dry enough for us to have a fire, so we warmed ourselves by the flames while we munched on grilled corn on the cob and bratwursts, followed by s’mores.  Turned out to be a pretty decent night after all…

We awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of birds chirping, and I could tell from the glow of the roof of our nylon tent that the rain had passed and we were in for a beautiful day.  After a short walk down to Lake McDonald to take in the sparkling water, we packed up camp and hit the road once again.

We had decided to take the scenic route up to Banff, via ‘Going-to-the-Sun-Road’ – 53 miles of winding, mountainous glory.  It was an amazing drive, and we ooh-ed and ahh-ed all along the way, from the rolling green hills up to the snow-capped glaciers.  Thank God Shane was driving, because there’s no way I could have kept my eyes on the road with sights like this around every bend!

Our first big encounter with Glacier National Park wildlife:  this guy was just chillin’ by the side of the road, nodding his head to the cars as they passed.  Awesome.

And with one final gander at the beauty of Glacier, we were off to Banff, wondering if Canada’s mountains could top what we’d seen in Montana.  Stay tuned to find out if they did!  (How’s that for a cliff-hanger?!)

After a couple of hours leisurely picking our way among the lupines and fresh Spring growth, we arrived at our destination, where the ladies grabbed a seat and took a rest, and the boys skipped stones and scrambled over logs.

The rest of the day was wonderfully lazy, with a nap, and lots of just loungin’ around the campsite – the G-man was our little camper-in-training.

Nightfall when camping means one thing, and one thing only: S’MORES!  And we are a group of people that take our dessert very seriously, so standard s’more fare just wouldn’t do – I was pretty proud of myself when I put together this perfect marshmallow-peanut butter cup sandwich.  Oooooooh yeah.

But then Jordan had to one-up me with his feat of marshmallow-Reese’s engineering genius – we all drooled as we watched this skewer turn into a gooey, chocolatey mess.  And we all groaned when he held it over the fire just a second too long and half of this fell in the ashes.  Sigh.

Sunday I awoke the pitter-patter of raindrops on the tent roof and groaned as I pictured us spending breakfast time huddled around the picnic table, trying to cook our stash of bacon and eggs in the extreme dampness.  Ick.  The thought was enough to make me squirm a little deeper into my sleeping bag and go right back to sleep.  Fortunately, we had a super-selfless camper in our midst, and as the rest of us stayed huddled in our tents, sleeping our way through the raindrops, Jordan was expertly stringing a 20-foot tarp over the picnic table, so that we would have a dry refuge from the rain.  It sure pays to camp with people who know what they’re doing…

We ended the weekend with a bang, heading out to Boudreaux Cellars, tucked away in the woods just outside of Leavenworth, for a round of winetasting.  We tasted five tasty wines and got the VIP tour, complete with a stroll though the wonderfully musty underground cellar.

And with that, we pointed our cars west and all headed back to Seattle, eager to wash the smell of campfire smoke from our clothes, but satisfied with a weekend well-spent.

I was up and at ‘em first thing on Saturday morning to head over to West Seattle for my work day at the encaustic studio. The instructors of the workshop I took in March have a great space set up over there for renters, where I had everything I needed right at my fingertips in order to make a lovely little mess. It was a productive day for me, as I finished a couple of pieces and got started on a couple of others, but still, even after nine hours in the studio, I wanted more. These sorts of intense art sessions are exhausting, but completely energizing at the same time. Can’t wait to get back in there. Here’s a sneak peek – more photos to come when I have the whole ‘collection’ done.

Yesterday we zipped down to Portland for a long-overdue visit with my brother and his family. As I’ve said after every trip down there over the past two years, I can’t believe how Elise has changed since I saw her last. She is taller, faster, chattier, and showing major signs of favoritism toward her Uncle Shane (I won’t hold this against her).  One of her favorite toys these days is the Magna-Doodle that Shane and I bought her for Christmas, and she spent quite a bit of time on my lap this weekend, drawing to her heart’s content.  Whatever I asked her to draw, whether it was an elephant, a penguin, or a picture of her Grandpa, she responded enthusiastically with, “OK, sure!” (her latest catch phrase), and proceeded to give it her best shot.  Granted, all of her doodles bear a striking a resemblance to one another, and I’m not sure I could differentiate her giraffe from her representation of Uncle Shane, but she gets an A+ for effort.  She also loves to read, and had a lot of fun pulling books off the shelves left and right during our visit to Powell’s this weekend.  I like to think of her as a future book club member-in-training.  Goodness, I love this little girl!

And so, another weekend come and gone (sigh).  But it was so, so good while it lasted!

Any good getaway includes plenty of indulgent food, so after fish ‘n chips and beer at the Harbour Public House, we zipped right over to Mora for ice cream.  They have 48 flavors there.  My lifelong dream is to try them ALL.  Post-ice cream, we headed over to Fort Ward Park for a little afternoon nature walk.  The sun was shining, the wind was whispering the trees, the woods were rich with just about every imaginable shade of green, and so the stage was set for a perfectly sappy hand-in-hand anniversary stroll.  Lovely.  A snake temporarily startled me out of my bliss, but he seemed much more interested in the slug he was trying to devour than he was in us, so we continued on our way.

After our walk, we were ready to check into our cottage, crack open a bottle of wine, and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.  Our accommodations were perfect – cozy, quiet, and nestled in among the trees…  Ten minutes there, and I was ready to move in.

We had a fabulous dinner at Agate Pass, and after a spontaneous 20-minute detour to check out the casino we passed on the way back to our place (I won $15 at my first slot machine and decided to quit while I was ahead), we were ready to call it a night.  Turning in at 10 pm is another sure sign that we’re on our way to becoming an old married couple.

Sleeping in is also a crucial part of a good getaway, and so we did just that on Friday morning, rolling out of bed in time to devour the delicious homemade breakfast that was delivered to our door.  Fresh-baked scones and French-press coffee, enjoyed from a little table next to a window that looks out into the forest?  Yes, please!  I really was enamored with the woods – ferns and moss and green, green trees as far as the eye can see.  I can feel myself becoming more and more of a Northwestern-er every day.

And then it was time to bid the island farewell and cruise back toward to Seattle.  And yes, that means heading back to work, and the house, and the daily grind, but it also means heading home with the man I love.  Candles and wine and afternoon walks in the woods are all good things, but I suppose there’s also romance to be found in an evening spent on the couch together watching a baseball game, or a quick kiss good-bye on our way out the door in the morning.  So until May 20th rolls around again, I will be savoring the goodness of the day-in, day-out, which is really what’s gotten us through the last four years, and will carry us through the next forty.

First off, hot damn!  This place is beautiful!  From the sandy beaches to the lush jungles just off-shore, I was constantly struck by the magnificence of the landscape.  I don’t know if it’s the vastness of it, or the never-ending rhythm of the waves, or just our innate human desire to be near water, but the ocean has a draw to it that is unlike any other force I know.  And with most of our beach experiences being along the chilly Pacific of the California Central Coast, it was such a treat to set foot in the water at Sayulita and find that it was perfectly suited for swimming.  We were constantly in and out of the water during our whole week in Mexico, hopping in with a boogie board when the waves picked up, grabbing a snorkel mask when they died down, and then popping in just for a quick dip when the sun got too hot.  And seriously, how can you top waking up to the sun rising over the ocean?

Second, sometimes it is good, and perfectly acceptable, to spend a few days just being supremely lazy.  I wouldn’t really call Shane and I ‘beach-people’, but after a full day spent just camped out in a lounge chair under a shade umbrella in the sand, we were sold on the merits of beach-bumming.  On one of our last days there, with absolutely nothing on the agenda for the day, we left our room with a couple of beach towels, our books, and some bottled water, walked out onto the beach, staked our claim at a couple of lounge chairs, and, with the exception of jumping into the ocean for the occasional swim, did nothing but laze around to the sound of the waves for a good eight hours.  It was heaven.  Now if only we could get used to falling asleep to the chirping of the geckos darting across our ceiling, and if only we didn’t have those pesky jobs to return to, I bet we could find a beach-front villa with our name on it (preferably with a bathtub like this one).

Third, I loved being able to get a small taste of Mexican culture while in Sayulita, but there is no denying that this is ultimately a tourist town.  On the one hand, there is comfort in knowing that most shop and restaurant owners know how to speak English, in seeing other Americans crowding the tables of a restaurant and taking that as a sign that the food is ‘Gringo-friendly’.  But I would have liked to have been pushed slightly further out of my comfort zone – to have been forced to recall my bits of broken Spanish, or to have witnessed the customs and traditions that are integral to life in small-village Mexico.  I don’t know exactly what I was looking for, and honestly, I don’t know if we’re quite bold enough to go that far off the beaten path, I just know that there is cultural richness that has been somewhat suppressed in Sayulita.  I guess I want to have my flan and eat it, too – I want all the comforts of a tourist-friendly town, without the presence of all those other tourists…  Nonetheless, the town was still full of charm.  I especially loved the bold use of color – in the storefronts, in the banners strung over the streets, in the beach bags being sold on the sidewalks.  Everywhere I turned, I was greeted with a new shade of orange or blue or gold.  Seattle could take a few lessons from Sayulitans on brightening things up.

And now, as I sit here on the couch, cozied up in a blanket while the rain falls outside, Mexico feels so very far away…  But how blessed we are to have a week’s worth of beach-side memories.

From the Lincoln Memorial, we walked over the Vietnam Memorial, which is nothing short of stunning.  So simple, but so powerful.  I could have sat in front of this wall for hours, just reading the names and watching the reflections of passing people in the shiny black granite.  Do you know that this memorial was designed by Maya Lin as part of a design competition she entered when she was only 21 years old, and a student in architecture?  Brilliant.

From the Vietnam Memorial, we headed back toward the Washington Monument, then over to the White House to say ‘what’s up’ to Barack.  He was nowhere to be found, so we were relegated to just standing at the gates with all the other tourists, like a bunch of kids at the zoo’s monkey cages.  The appeal of this wore off in about 5 seconds, and then it was time to wind our way back to the car.

We enjoyed our walk back toward the Tidal Basin, but it was hard to leave the city, knowing that there was so much more to do and see.  We barely scratched the surface of a few of the monuments – I’d love to head back and check out the DC’s many neighborhoods and museums.  Someday, I suppose…