little black journal

Happy, happy Friday!  Looking forward to another chill weekend at home.  And we’re off to a perfect start – just pulled a lovely peach pie out of the oven and we’re heading out the door in a few minutes to share it with friends. Shane and I have committed to taking advantage of our plan-free day tomorrow and doing ‘something out of the ordinary’, but we’re not sure yet what that is – I’m hoping it involves dessert.  Or maybe a good foamy latte.  Or a new pair of shoes.  So many possibilities…  Other than that, I’ll be working on an art project or two, getting caught up on the latest episodes of Project Runway, and taking one final stab at sprucing up our backyard planter beds before Fall officially sets in.  And I suppose I should get around to sewing the missing buttons onto my two favorite coats – looks like t-shirt weather is gone, gone, gone…  But pie weather is definitely here, so I’m still a very happy camper.

Bon weekend!

Despite frequent hopeful gazes out our living room window, I was unable to track down even a hint of blue sky today – seems that we have moved into a season (or seasons, plural, as is the case in Seattle) of gray skies and rainy afternoons.  Summer felt so fleeting this year.  I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve spent so much of the past several weeks on the go, or because this Summer was cooler than typical, but I’m having a hard time accepting that this season is really over.  Do I really have to bid farewell to Saturdays spent working in the garden, evenings spent spent drinking wine on the back porch? The forecast (rain for six of the next seven days) seems to be telling me a definitive ‘yes’.  At least this overcast weather was perfect for curling up on the couch and finishing up the book I’ve been reading, which turned out to be one of the best novels I’ve picked up in a long time.  Set in the midst of a traveling circus in the 1930’s, Water for Elephants was full of drama, action, romance, and suspense, carried out by characters you love dearly and hate passionately.  It’s was fun to be so absorbed in a book that I couldn’t put it down – especially during a weekend like this one, when I didn’t have big plans or sunny weather vying for my attention.  This will be a tough novel to top, but as I pull together the stack of books I’d like to finish before the end of the year, I will remain optimistic – here’s to hoping that Chang-rae Lee, Chris Cleave, and George Orwell do not disappoint.

When I first came to Seattle and started looking for a place to live, I began evaluating neighborhoods based on criteria like proximity to downtown, rent prices, sense of safety, etc, etc, etc…  But in the end, it all came down to the coolness factor, and Capitol Hill had me at hello.  I chose a small-but-comfortable studio apartment at the west edge of Capitol Hill, loving the fact that I could walk to work, walk to the grocery store, walk to any number of stellar cafes, walk to the bars, walk to the park, walk to my art classes at Seattle Central – I had just about anything I could possibly need right at my fingertips.  On average, I must have put about 15 miles a week on my car.  It was fabulous.  Plus, by living in such a hip, urban area, I was able to convince myself that I was actually cool by association (whether this is true or not is still TBD).  Once Shane moved to Seattle and we got married, there was never really any question that we would stay in the ‘hood, and we scored a perfect one-bedroom apartment in a lovely old brick building, just three blocks from where I had been living.  Life was good on Capitol Hill – we went out to dinner at Chez Gaudy or La Spiga on a moment’s notice, I spent my Saturday mornings Bauhaus Cafe, and on sunny afternoons, I would grab my book and head over to Cal Anderson Park to lay on the grass and watch neighborhood residents splash in the fountain.

Nearly a year after we’d settled into our apartment on Union Street, when we started looking to buy a place in Seattle, it was hard to make the decision to leave the Hill and transport all of our belongings four miles south to our spacious-but-not-nearly-as-hip townhome in Columbia City.  In the end, I really believe it was the right choice for us, as we have fallen in love with our home and our neighbors and our greater neighborhood, but still, I think I left just a small piece of my heart back in Capitol Hill.

Which is why, when I found myself with a wide-open afternoon yesterday, I decided there was nothing I would rather do than grab my camera and spend a couple of hours strolling down Pike and Pine, pretending once again that I was one of the cool folks that actually belonged there.  I had read a good review of Porchlight Coffee on 14th, so I started there, then proceeded to wander toward Broadway, detouring through Cal Anderson Park, then Value Village’s book aisles, and slowly making my way back east.  It’s a little disappointing to see several not-so-charming vanilla condo buildings popping up around the neighborhood, but the underlying fabric of old brick storefronts, poster-plastered telephone poles, and trendy coffee shops on every other corner still exists, and that makes me happy.

Cool/uncool, hip/unhip, young/old, etc, etc, I suppose Capitol Hill’s greatest charm is in its ability to draw me in and make me think there’s no where else I’d rather be sipping my latte.

Woot!  I slipped out of the office early when no one was looking and so my weekend starts NOW.  Shane and I have a relatively plan-free weekend at home ahead of us, which I usually look forward to as a chance to run errands/do housework/get ‘caught up’ (what does that mean, anyway???), but I’ve firmly decided that this time, I will enjoy the break and not dwell on tasks that should get done.  Then again, I am obsessively compulsive about making lists, and find an unhealthy amount of satisfaction in checking things off said lists, so I’m indulging my neurotic tendencies and have made a list of things to do, without actually getting anything done.  I’m hoping the next three days will look something like this…

* Sit in a cafe with a latte and read my unbelievably good book.

* Buy a watermelon.  And eat it.  Just ’cause.

* Watch the sun set.  Preferably over water.  Or mountains.  Or the silhouette of downtown Seattle.  I’m not picky.

* Sit on our back porch and drink a glass of white wine.  Or two.

* Enjoy the flowers we have growing in our garden.  Just in case summer is on it’s way out (which is a fact that I am consciously choosing to deny).

* Remind Shane that I love him, and that quality time with him means more to me than checking anything off of any to-do list.

Ready, set, RELAX…

The past few weeks have been busy – lots of long hours at work, miscellaneous events on the calendar, and nights spent falling asleep with my ‘to-do’ list flashing before my eyes.  Which is why I was indescribably thrilled to hop in the car after work on Friday and head toward the little lake-side house we had rented for the weekend with a couple of friends.  And I was overjoyed when we pulled into the driveway and found that ‘lake-side’ truly meant lake-side, with a back porch and hot tub that looked right onto Mission Lake, a little dock, complete with a canoe, a row-boat, and a paddle-boat, and a fire pit that screamed to me “Eat s’mores HERE!”  Within minutes of our arrival, I had slipped into the sweatpants that would become my weekend uniform, Shane and Jason had tossed dinner on the grill, we had cracked open a bottle of wine, and I was thinking, ‘Life is good’.  Once darkness fell, the gentlemen got the fire started and we dessert-ed on s’mores under the stars.  I fell into bed that night with a smile on my face, reveling in the feeling of all of my “to-do’s” being very far away.

Shane was up at dawn the next morning, eager to explore our new digs – he and Jason had already taken a spin around the lake in a canoe before I had even considered opening my eyes (which is why I must credit him with the photo below – the sun was much higher in the sky by the time I got out of bed).

Saturday was spent sitting on the dock with my book and my mug of peach tea, napping on the couch, paddling around in the canoe, soaking in the hot tub, rinse and repeat.  Everything a vacation should be.

Grilled kabobs for dinner, another bottle of wine, and the day came to a close with us sitting at the table, talking, drinking, laughing, eating… Over the past few months, Shane and I have spent countless evenings sitting around the dining room table or standing at the kitchen counter chatting with Jason and Nance about…life, I guess.  Our conversations flow so freely that it’s hard for me to pinpoint what exactly we talk about – I just know that at any moment I may be asked a soul-baring question, or I may be laughing out loud over Jason’s attempt to rap along with 2Pac.

Sunday was more of the same, which was perfectly ok with me.  I lounged, wandering from the couch to the dock and back again.  And Shane got to spend some more quality time with his best bud, G-man, which is always a good thing.

Sunday evening, we all piled into the rowboat for a cruise around the lake.  The tour-du-lac took a bit longer than expected, since Shane and Jason spent more time rowing us in circles than rowing us forward, but still, a good time was had by all, and our captains eventually navigated us safely back to the dock.

I put a lot of ‘effort’ this weekend into resting, while Shane and Jason chose to focus their energy on playing.  Seriously, these boys played hard this weekend.  Whether it was darting off to the frisbee golf course for a ‘quick’ round of 18 holes, mad-ballin’ at the hoop in the driveway, busting out the croquet set buried in the front closet, jumping in the lake (then the hot tub, then the lake, then the hot tub…), or trying out the assortment of boats at our disposal, it was so fun to just watch ‘boys be boys’.

Sunday evening meant another dinner fresh off the grill, more talking/drinking/laughing/eating, and one final soak in the hot tub.  It was hard knowing that we’d have to bid farewell to our little lakeside paradise the next morning…

And sure enough, despite my resistance, Monday morning rolled around we were off to catch an early ferry back to Seattle, so that I could get back to the office to work toward my Monday night deadline – the phrase ‘back to reality’ smacked me right in the face with a string of stressful meetings and a thirteen-hour work day.  Yuuuuuuuuuck.  But the peace and calm was certainly nice while it lasted, and the upcoming three-day weekend holds some definite relaxation potential.  Even if our own little backyard doesn’t have a view quite like this:

Yes, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted about a book.  Fact is, I took a bit of a ‘literary detour’ and spent the first part of this summer wrapped up in the Twilight series.  And I won’t apologize for it – I was in the mood for something quick, easy, and just a little bit trashy, and that vampire saga fit the bill perfectly.  But once I got my fill of teenage romance, I was ready to flex my reading muscles and so picked up Till We Have Faces, my book club’s August pick.  This is C.S. Lewis’ interpretation of the classical myth of Cupid and Psyche, set in the far-off pagan land of Glome.  I’m not going to lie – this wasn’t a ‘fun’ read, but it stretched me, and encouraged me further explore deeper themes of selfish love, self-awareness, and frustration over a seemingly distant God.  And I like when a book stumps me, keeps the wheels in my head turning after I’ve put it down, forces me flip back through it in hopes of catching something new.  After doing some Googling and reading a couple of book reviews sent to me by my fellow stumped book-clubbies, I’m just scratching the surface of what Lewis may (or may not) have been getting at.  I’ll leave you with this passage, that seems to grow more powerful each time I reread it:

” ‘Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that’s the whole art and joy of words.’  A glib saying.  When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about joy of words.  I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer.  Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean?  How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”

Oh, this weekend was so perfectly ‘weekend-ish’, full of good food, good times with friends, and a good dose of relaxation.  I didn’t have my camera with me at all over the past couple of days, but my handy iPhone captured the highlights:

Shane and I celebrated the end of the work week Schnell-style, and met at a bar downtown for some Happy Hour action.  Penn Cove mussels, garlic fries, and frothy pints of beer – these are the reasons it’s called ‘Happy Hour’.

We spent the rest of the evening with our friends Jason and Nancy, feasting on Jason’s tasty home-baked pizzas.  This one was my favorite – olive oil, onions, avacado, arugula, mmm…

Saturday morning was my monthly book club meeting with the ladies – which means a latte and buttermilk biscuit.  I’m afraid the book is secondary, really.

We spent Saturday afternoon at my office’s summer picnic, eating burgers and putt-putting a round of mini-golf.  Turns out I am terrible at mini-golf, but Shane can putt like a pro.  Go figure.

After church this morning, Shane and I headed over the Ballard Farmer’s Market.  Seemingly endless rows of fresh produce, brightly colored flowers, and locally made specialty foods.  And mini-donuts.  Let’s not forget the mini-donuts.

And finally, an afternoon spent doing some shopping, followed by a quiet Sunday evening at home.  Did some housework, some reading, and a yoga session that I will pretend can counteract the french fries, the pizza, the buttermik biscuit, the burger, and the mini-donuts.  Right.

Since the opening of my art show last month, I’ve done almost no art-making.  And I suppose that’s ok – I’ve come to accept that sometimes my creative endeavors will take a backseat to things like work or home projects or time with friends, but still, I’ve missed the feeling of a paintbrush or a pen in my hands. So when a friend asked me if I wanted to join her for a 3-hour figure drawing session at a gallery in Pioneer Square, I cleared my schedule, grabbed my sketchpad, and settled in for an evening of art-ing.  This was my first-ever figure drawing session, and I will admit, I went into it with a little concern over the awkwardness that may come from drawing a nude model, but once that big, lovely woman dropped her robe and we all started sketching, any reservations were put to rest.  I immediately became absorbed in my drawing, studying the model the same way you would study a landscape or a bowl of fruit or any other artistic subject.  The structure of the session was really good for me, as the bulk of the poses were only two to five minutes, so I didn’t have time to get stuck in the details or try to make anything perfect.  The length of time that the model stayed in any one pose gradually increased, and we wrapped up the night with a couple of 15-minute poses.  I walked out of there with a fat stack of sketches and a smile on my face – a totally fabulous evening.

FYI, these sessions occur on the third Tuesday of every month at La Familia gallery in Pioneer Square.  Entry is only 10 bucks (and well worth it!).

As of late, I like…

Sunny evenings spent sitting in the backyard, drinking wine and eating slices of baguette topped with Brie.  It’s our little homage to our fondest memories of Paris.

Rainy afternoons (’cause in Seattle, those sunshiny days don’t last for long) spent holed up inside, playing board games with friends. Yesterday, I discovered my love/hate relationship with Settlers of Catan (loved playing the game, hated that I lost…).

This project in Berlin – a building with a completely blank exterior, which is constantly transformed with artistic installations.  I love the idea of using a building as a canvas.  Carsten Nicolai’s installation is exceptionally cool, with its opportunities for public interaction and chance.

My ‘Hipstamatic Prints’ iPhone app, which applies different lighting and coloring effects to iPhone photos.  Shane is not with me on this one, as he seems to be a bit of a ‘purist’ when it comes to photography, but I think it’s fun, and perfect for spur-of-the-moment shots.

I am also loving my Mint Melange tea, paired with a chapter of Till We Have Faces, so I will be wrapping up the weekend accordingly.  ‘Night.

Our p-patch plot, planted 10 weeks ago with tiny little plants in neat little rows, has recently turned into something of a jungle.  We’ve had boatloads of lettuce, summer squash that seems to double in size overnight, and crisp, sweet snap peas that are usually munched on as we make the walk from the garden back to our house.  Just call me Farmer Kelly…

The tomatoes and strawberries aren’t yet ripe for the pickin’, but they show definite promise.

All in all, we feel like we’ve done pretty well in our rookie year of veggie-gardening.  But there are definitely things we’ll do differently next year – a couple of words to the wise:

– Don’t assume that one of those dinky little 2-foot stakes is all you need for your peas – our vines outgrew those things in a matter of minutes, and everything would have been much simpler if we’d built a trellis from the get-go.

– 12 lettuce plants is far too many for a two-person household.  I’m sick of salad.  I was actually relieved when some of our plants started to bolt and needed to be removed.

– Squash and zucchini plants grow freakishly fast and get freakishly big.  Just sayin’.

– Gardening is rewarding and fun, but watch out – it can cause marital tensions; I got very defensive last week when Shane accused my squash plant of crowding his strawberries.  How dare he.

Keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll be seeing more signs of red next time we go out there!  I’m ready for a good, juicy tomato.