This book came highly recommended by Shane, and I was looking forward to getting into a real page-turner. It is the true story of the building of the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, intertwined with the story of a serial killer who used the fair as a lure for many of his victims. Intriguing… But the book was often overly factual, so ridden with real-life accounts that I had a hard time really getting into the story. It was all very interesting, but I’ve mentioned before that I like to really connect with a book’s characters and get lost in the story, and I had a hard time doing that in the midst of so many details and dates. Nonetheless, it was a good read – I can appreciate the feat that was undertaken by the architects who were given just a couple of years to design and construct this miniature city inside of Chicago. And knowing that the things you’re reading about truly did happen certainly elevates the intensity of events, so I guess I’m torn. Fict or fact?
I’ve often wished that Shane had more of an interest in meal preparation, and yesterday I discovered the secret to stimulating his enthusiasm for cooking. We’ve been talking about buying a grill for a couple of years, and yesterday we took the plunge and picked up a great four-burner gas grill to call our own. The fact that Shane was up until midnight last night assembling all 4000 of the grill’s pieces told me that he was excited about the prospect of playing the role of backyard chef.
We decided to take the easy route for our first grilled meal and threw some bratwursts on the grill for lunch. I wrapped a couple of ears of corn in foil and put them on as well. Grilled meal #1 was a success. For dinner, we stepped up our game a bit and put a nice thick filet of beef on the grill, along with some potato wedges brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with rosemary, and wrapped in foil. This was trickier – a steak is so easily under or over-cooked. We decided to err on the side of rare, but after we’d brought the meat in, let it rest for a few minutes, and then sliced into it, we found we’d erred too far – the steak was far too rare in the middle (“still mooing”, as some would say). But the edges were perfect, so we at least got to enjoy a few tender, juicy bites. Lesson learned. Tomorrow we try pork, then fish later in the week. Looks like this is going to be one heck of a meat-filled summer – I better start Googling those recipes for grilled vegetable skewers…
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…
Exactly ten years ago today, Shane drove over to my house in his bright blue Dodge Neon and picked me up for our very first date. We went to the movies and saw Notting Hill, then grabbed milkshakes at a little restaurant down the street from the theater. I remember feeling relieved that conversation flowed so easily between us, thinking that Shane was really cute, wondering if he was going to kiss me goodnight as our evening together came to an end. He did not kiss me, which I appreciated as the sign of a gentleman, but he did call me the next day and ask if I’d like to go out again. Yes, please! We spent much of that summer together, watching movies in my living room while my dad waited up and kept a distant eye on us from the kitchen, wanting to make sure this new guy in my life wasn’t up to no good. We went out and shot pool at the local pool hall, played miniature golf at the little amusement park, and drove out to Turlock Lake to walk along the water and escape the heat. And then, as Summer came to an end, the very first questions about our future together arose. Shane was due to return to Minnesota when his internship was over, so I began to prepare myself for saying good-bye. But when he was offered a full-time job in California, he decided that his days as a Minnesotan were over, much to his family’s surprise. He stayed in town, and we stayed together. Then I began my senior year of high school, and started applying to colleges three or four hours away from home, and more questions about our relationship came to light. Did I really want to get involved with someone, knowing that I would be going away and starting a totally new phase of my life in the Fall? Would I be missing out on some part of my final year of high school by dating someone who had already completed that part of his life, who didn’t know my friends, or care about our school’s football team, or want to go to high school parties or dances? Shane and I did keep seeing each other throughout that year, but I was cautious. I kept my heart under lock and key. When he first told me he loved me, my response was, “No, you can’t.” Ouch, that must have hurt him. But I had never been serious with anyone before, and I found it hard to tread through these unfamiliar waters. Thankfully, patience is one of Shane’s strongest virtues, and he gave me time and space to figure out what I wanted for our relationship. And one year after our first date, I told him that I loved him. I would be leaving for Cal Poly in September, and the thought of having a long-distance boyfriend was scary, but I knew that this guy was just too good to let go. We decided to give it a try. Shane put a lot of miles on his car during those few years, frequently making the 200-mile trip down to San Luis Obispo, and I went through a lot of calling cards as we spent endless hours on the phone. It was hard at times, but we got through the hard times and reveled in the good times. We were making it work, and I was falling deeper in love. But during my fourth year of college, when I was studying in Paris, those pesky questions about our future began to arise again. Shane came to visit me in May of 2004, and I was ecstatic to see him. Being in Paris with the man you love is enough to put anyone on Cloud 9. But then, one afternoon as we were sitting along the Seine, talking and dangling our feet near the river, Shane threw me for a loop when he reached into his pocket, pulled out the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen, and asked me to be his wife. To say that I panicked would be an understatement. Yes, of course I loved this thoughtful, generous, wonderful man, but was I really ready to commit to forever? I had spent the previous eight months living alone in Europe, embracing my independence and freedom. Marriage was not at the forefront of my mind. And so my answer was, “I can’t answer you right now.” Double-ouch. Shane was hurt, and my heart broke as I saw his heart breaking. But I just knew that I wasn’t in a place where I could make that kind of commitment. The next year was a tough one, as we both wrestled with discerning God’s plan for our relationship. I kept waiting for that moment everyone talks about when “you just know”. It didn’t come. And although Shane is patient, that question can only be kept on the table for so long. I had been offered a job up in Seattle and knew that the indecision timer was running out. Finally, after much praying and talking and counseling and growing, I decided to take a leap of faith, and in July of 2005 I asked Shane to please put that pretty little ring on my finger. We got married the following May, and now, a couple of weeks after our third wedding anniversary, here we are. And “here” is a very good place to be. Bit by bit, I have given my heart to this man, and he has treated it unbelievably well. So, cheers to our first of many decades together – can’t wait to see what the next ten years will look like.
We spent most of this weekend down in Portland, enjoying some much-needed time with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece. It had been over 3 months since my last visit, and I was itching to see how Elise had grown and changed. She is crawling all over the place now, attempting to take her first steps, although the spill that she took a couple of weeks ago, and the subsequent broken ankle and cumbersome cast, have set her back a little bit walking-wise. She is incredibly good-natured and has many sorts of smiles – after waking up from a nap she will tuck in her chin and look up at you with a bashful little grin; when you lift her up into the air or tickle her stomach she will squeal with unrestrained laughter. She is also eating all kinds of new things – veggies are clearly not her favorite, but she has recently discovered the joy of spaghetti, in all its glorious messiness:
Such a darling, loving, fun little girl…Â And once again, I am left wondering, “When can I see her again?!”
This weekend was proof that summertime is just around the corner, as I enjoyed: slicing into a perfectly juicy watermelon; taking in a Sunday afternoon baseball game; seeing our little front yard garden grow by the hour; drinking several glasses of chilled white wine; jogging along sparkling Lake Washington; barbecuing in the backyard with neighbors; waking up each morning and opening all the windows in the house; wearing tank tops and flip flops; reveling in the feel of sunshine on my shoulders. ‘Tis the season for all these warm weather pleasures.
Unfortunately, ’tis also the season for busy-ness, with long hours at work and weekends spent preparing for my next licensing exam. But I will certainly be taking time to stop and smell the spider mums… (Flowers courtesy of Shane.)
Liking collage. And paint. Mixed media fun…
blue (2009.05.04):
village (2009.05.08):
skyline (2009.05.09):
country (2009.05.10):
damask geese (2009.05.12):
I love this man. Three years of marriage, and he still makes me smile every single day.
In honor of our upcoming third anniversary, Shane and I treated ourselves last weekend to a great little getaway to San Francisco. It was a whirlwind couple of days, filled with amazing food, lots of sunshine (I’ve got the pink shoulders to prove it), a good dose of baseball, plenty of sight-seeing, and good times with old friends. The highlights:
We arrived on Friday morning, checked into our cute little room at the Mosser, and headed straight back out the door toward Golden Gate Park. We were both eager to check out two of SF’s newest museums – the de Young by Herzog and de Meuron, and the recently remodeled California Academy of Sciences by Renzo Piano. Both buildings were stunning. The copper panels of the de Young were sleek and gorgeous; the glassy lobby and hilly roof of the Academy of Sciences were simple but incredibly thoughtful. We grabbed lunch at The Moss Room in the Academy of Sciences and then spent a couple of hours wandering through the museum, taking in the lushness of the miniature rainforest and the wonderful colors and shapes of the sea-life in the aquarium. I felt like an awe-struck little kid, excitedly grabbing Shane by the arm every few minutes to point out some cool little butterfly or crazy swimming seadragon. Awesome.
We spent the evening enjoying a decadent dinner at Perbacco, and then headed to District wine bar to meet up with some of my old friends from college for a drink. It was good to catch up – B and I lived together for two years in college and were both in Paris for our fourth year abroad. So many memories together, and so many details to share about our post-college lives! I would have loved to stay up all night chatting, but the wine, the heavy pasta dinner, and the rich chocolate dessert were all beginning to put me under, and so we headed back to our hotel, tired but satisfied with a perfect day in the city.
Saturday we had just two main missions: enjoy a fantastic brunch at Citizen Cake and take in a Giants game at AT&T Park. Mission number one was accomplished as I polished off an amazing egg/avacado/gruyere breakfast sandwich at our nice little corner table by the window. And a couple of hours later, we were well into mission number two, as we grabbed our seats at the ballpark, bought an ice-cold lemonade, and sat back to cheer on our favorite team. The Giants, unfortunately, were no match for the Mets that day, but nonetheless, it was a well-spent afternoon.
Saturday night we headed to the Marina to get dinner at A16, then bussed south to grab drinks at Bix – a small bar that came highly recommended to us by a good friend. Bix was awesome, from the perfectly prepared cocktails, to the uber-cool jazz band mellowly jamming out in the corner, to the friendly guy that sat next us and bought Shane and I each a shot of good tequila in honor of our anniversary. This place has been added to the list of must-hits for our next return to San Francisco.
Sunday began with a visit to the Mission district. We picked up a couple of tarts at Tartine and walked over to Dolores Park to munch on our treasures and enjoy the view of the city. Lovely.
Our weekend of gluttony continued as we headed to the Ferry Building to try out the notorious oysters at Hog Island. Being near the water was wonderful – the breeze that blew in from the bay gave us a welcome break from the heat. Our final sight-see of the day was to visit the sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf. I love these animals – I could watch them bark and flop and laze for hours.
One final bar stop to enjoy a beer with some good friends that were in San Francisco for the day, and our time in the city had come to a close. And so the planning begins for our next trip back! I had somehow forgotten or just never realized what an incredible place San Francisco can be. So much to see, so much to eat, and so little time…
I have undertaken the task going through the nearly 3000 photos I took during our two-week vacation, picking out some of my favorites for printing or sharing here. It’s a slow process – so many to choose from, each one coupled with a special memory. I’ll sporadically post a few on my blog as I’m sorting – here are the particularly special ones I came across tonight:
By the end of our time in Paris, Shane was rolling his eyes as I stopped to take my 200th picture of Parisian roof lines. Can’t help it – even though buildings like this are found all over the city, I am still enamoured with each and every one of them. So lovely…
Lampposts were also a favorite photographic subject – it’s all about the little things (although the sight of the Eiffel Tower in the background certain helps the composition).
More roof lines – this one was taken from the terrace of the Pompidou:
Signs of springtime…
Rue Montorgueil – one of my favorite streets in Paris, lined with cafes and cheese shops and little markets. Shane and I had a nice leisurely lunch at a little pizzeria on this street after our trip to the Pompidou.
Place des Vosges – one of my favorite public squares in Paris (I’m starting to notice that everything in Paris is described as “my favorite…” – bear with me). We stayed just a couple of blocks away from here and frequented this spot. Great place to sit on a bench, eat a sandwich, and people-watch.
Yowsers:
Already our time in Paris and Portugal feels like it was so long ago – I’m ready for a repeat! But for now, my memories and my thousands of photos will have to do, which isn’t so bad – there’s satisfaction in reminiscing about such a perfect trip…