Where Ground Meets Sky

This is where I go
when I want to be
on the edge of the world
floating
flying
the quiet of the earth
the hum of vastness
alone and away
in a crevice where ground meets sky
straddled between all there is
and all there ever was.

 



 

 

Apple Festival 2012

Saturday October 20, 2012

I said it before and I'll say it again: I freaking LOVE the Apple Festival.

And Autumn.  I freaking.  LOVE.  AUTUMN.

<3

Heh.

Breathtaking!

This is why I live here.

A Week of NOMM

The Boyfriend's mom was in town last week visiting from the midwest-ish.  I like when she's in town because it's the perfect excuse to eat out a lot and delight in the company of others.  (Not that I need much of an excuse to do so normally, but the spending money part is the usual hurdle.  If it's in the name of visiting out-of-towners, then how can I NOT oblige?)

We went to Ringside Steakhouse in the middle of the week.  I'd never been there before, and neither had my accompaniment, so I was unexpectedly astonished by the prices on the menu.  Without getting too gritty, I ate the most expensive steak I've ever eaten in my life -- and you better believe it was the tastiest, too! -- that cost what I might consider spending on a one-way plane ticket.  A 6-ounce filet mignon with roasted brussell (how the eff do you spell brussel anyway?! Brussell brussel brussels brussells Brussell's Brussel's No matter how I spell it, the red squiggly line says "No, bitch."  YARRRGGGHHH THE MADNESS) sprouts and cauliflower, an enchanting glass of pinot gris, LOBSTER MASHED POTATOES -- yes, they were ri-freaking-diculous, a salad with the most amazing balsamic I've ever tasted (THIS is what balsamic tastes like?!?), and not one but TWO desserts to top off my feeling like a raging food-a-holic.  

(Which I most certainly did.)

It didn't take a genius, a mathematician, a priest, or a small psychic child to figure out that I have rather the penchant for high-quality -- dare I say, bourgy -- fine cuisine.  The feasting event made me feel high as a kite, happy for hours and hours and into the following day.  How is this possible?  It's just FOOD, right?!

No.

It's an experience.

And it was mine . . . 

What a snob I've turned into.

Anyway, the next night we got down and durrrty at an Ethiopian restaurant by my house.  If you've never eaten Ethiopian food, you MUST.  And if you've got children, this place is awesome because you eat with your hands and stuff your face and drink awesome tasty beverages and leave smelling like spices and jalapenos and it's just marvelous.  This was much less catastrophic to the budget, so don't worry.

On our final afternoon, we found ourselves at Prost! on North Mississippi.  A German pub, they have lots of yummy German beers on tap that I can't pronounce and a menu composed primarily of meats and sour things.  I can't wait until the warmer months arrive.  They've got a fatty garage door inside that opens out to a spectacular deck, nestled under bright sunshine and the hum of the street.  

Note to self . . . 

Cucumber salad.  

Ho-hum, you say?  NO. FREAKING DELICIOUS.

Apples and some sort of liver pate that I forgot the name of with some rye bread.

I didn't actually try it, because the Boy -- He With Stomach of Steel -- 

had a difficult time making his tummy agree.  Yeahnothanks.

A sausage thing with more rye and two mustards.

YUMMM.

Bavarian Pretzel hot from the oven with salt and more mustards.

Beware the sweet one -- it'll punch you in the throat riiiiight at the end.

We also had Bratwurst, another something-wurst, sauerkraut, and more rye.  I walked out of the beautiful building feeling (still) like an angry aholic wishing I'd paced myself better on the gigantic sausages and mountains of bread and kraut.

Ohhh, regret . . . 

No, I take that back.  No regret here.  Maybe for a minute, but HOT DAMN I've had some good food in the last week and it helped me remember how freakin' awesome this silly town is.  Funny how it takes visitors from other cities and states to help us remember why we live here in the first place.

Prost!

Apple Tasting at Portland Nursery

The Apple Tasting Festival might be my favorite event in the city.  The Greek Food Festival comes in a close second.  I think because it’s simple and wholesome, and the tasting itself is free YAY.  I paddied up the Boy and the Brother, got them loopy off the hard cider tasting, and the day took us away!

More Fall Things, Because I’m a Glutton for Fall Things

Ma sent me a picture of Autumn as it looks in Ohio.

Quite impressive!  Last year she sent me a picture of a GIGANTIC leaf she found in her yard.  She’s got some huge old trees on her property that produce some real big fatties.  She scanned Mondo Leaf with a “mere mortal leaf” and it was like looking at a semi truck next to a scooter.  Absurd!  And the Autumns in Ohio really are something special, if you’ve never been.

To satiate my monster Autumn appetite: a golden tree aflame!  The photo is no measure of this tree’s energy and magnificence.

And, uh,  if you couldn’t already tell, I’m a sucker for trees.  And flowers.  And planty things.  I must get it from Ma.

Autumn in Portland

is why, I’m convinced, people move here.

Of course, every time the season changes I say that, but this time I really mean it.  Autumn is where it’s at.

I took this while driving.  I don't recommend it.

Birch trees = my *favorite*

My favorite little cheapy shoes, unraveling even as we speak.  I tell everyone I know not to buy Target shoes ’cause they’ll fall apart, and what do I do?  Fall in love with some.

Puuuuuuuurple !

I found the sun hiding in this puddle.

I Thought There Was No Possible Way

I could ever again miss the rain.


I was wrong.

 

Oh hello, MOST STUPIDLY PERFECT LATE SUMMER DAY

Do They Arrest You If You Don't Show Up?

The room was hot, then cold, then too cold.  My back started hurting not ten minutes into the thing and I wished I'd brought a better book.  (The current one is starting to feel trite and cliche.  I won't tell you which one because I don't have the energy to back myself up.)

I read a Cosmo. 

I doodled.

I wrote some bad poetry.

It was also Teal Day but I didn't get the memo.  Flaming, outrageous teal with bright obnoxious purses and over-processed hair.

I'm not sure I own anything teal, anyway.  My wardrobe is getting blacker by the minute.

And I think I dislike people more and more each day.  Not you, of course, but everybody else. 

I did, however, enjoy wearing my fancy Banana "work" pants that I haven't worn since the last day of my last job.  I thought I'd be busting out of them by now but it turns out they were looser than before (boo-yah).  All my cheese eating, wine sipping, weekend bendering and chocolate gorging is paying off, it seems.

Oh wait!  I stopped in on the girlies from my old job, too.  I figured it'd be douchey to be right next door and not pop in . . . But not without trying to go undetected.  I sneaked (I first typed "snuck" but the red line tells me it's not a word.  "Snuck" really isn't a word?  When did that happen??) in the back door and startled dear KT right out of her fantastic cobalt blue cardigan and black skinny pants. 

MG and Ula are sooooo pregnant.  They let me touch their bellies and gush at how pretty they are.  I imagine they're probably tired of hearing about how big they're getting.  Yeah?  I have an entire person in my guts, lying in a hammock on top of my bladder?  That's why I feel so huge?

The worst part of my day was probably when I thought I was about to go home but then got called for a last-minute late afternoon trial.  No wait, that wasn't the worst part.  Mildly disappointing, yes, but the worst worst part was when they crammed thirty something potential jurors into a very compact courtroom and then the man next to me start burping up his lunch and then blowing it on me.  Six times I almost ralphed.

Damn right I counted.

He turned out to be really nice and I enjoyed the short blurb he gave about himself, but that does not excuse such behavior.  I would rather not smell AND taste the contents of your stomach, hot and half digested, burning with acid. 

I left after that, hot and headachy, and treated myself to a mini shopping spree where I spent a whopping $31 on clothes and got a brisk four-mile walk in.  Oh, and I ate some sushi too.  And bought more chocolate for my daily recommended dose. 

The Grand MoMare Adventure

         A (painfully)  

Short Story

<ahem>

She arrived.

We ate heartily

nom

and drank (very dramatic) cups of coffee.

We lazed about and chit-chatted

 boop

and sat on sidewalks drinking tea

and swilling beer.

 We got to peruse many a-menu

 because that's what happens

when you eat a lot and are daunted

by giant flatware.

 RAWWRRR

We had fantastic hair

and gesticulated wildly

and made funny faces in public places

  until we nearly peed from laughter.

And even though we felt exhausted at times

oy

that didn't stop us from admiring the flowers

 I think those are weeds

eating radishes the size of baseballs

womp

and flaunting our fantastic bosoms.

yowza

The End.