Great Pumpkin

Our little princess carved this. Can you tell what it is?

Trick Or Treat?

Deadlines

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I don't know where she got it, probably Grandma Sue, but every time we'd drive past a cemetery Carli would blurt out, "People are dying to go there-->". Yea Carli, maybe it was funny the first time, not anymore.

We weren't dying to go, but yesterday as we drove along the fence of the Lone Fir Cemetery in SE Portland we stopped in for a visit. No Joke!

We walked through the wrought iron gates and were greeted by several people, hauntingly alive, dressed in costumes portraying long dead famous Portlanders. Cool, an outdoor history museum!

Here among the towering pines and fallen leaves lie pioneers of the Oregon Trail, Civil War veterans, and former Mayors. I recognized the names of Portland streets on the headstones, like Dr. Hawthorne who once oversaw a hospital for the insane. Mayor Lane, the Father of the Rose Festival, is buried here. And yes, Mr. Lovejoy, a founder of Portland, who famously lost a coin toss to name the city. Imagine Boston Oregon, Keep Boston Weird, Boston Trailblazers??? I can't.

So if you happen to be on this side of town, drop by the Lone Fir Cemetery. You might enjoy it as much as the people buried here are enjoying their final resting place. It's true, you don't need to be dead to go there. Now is the perfect time. Or perhaps, Thursday night...

Lumber Jack- A life"cut short"

The Fall Classic

With 70 degree weather, dry streets, and Pubsters still sipping their beers on outdoor picnic benches, it doesn't seem like Fall here in Portland. Yes, the trees are colorfully shedding leaves but it wasn't until I heard that familiar voice of Tim McCarver that I knew it was definitely Fall. The St. Louis Cardinals and Boston Red Sox were in the World Series-The Fall Classic.

While I hadn't followed baseball throughout the season, I do pay attention during the playoffs. Interestingly enough, I found myself rooting on the Dodgers to beat the Cardinals. Grown up a Giants fan, rooting for the Dodgers, unspeakable? No, not this year. The Dodgers had an incredible season. The kind of season they haven't had in a number of years. The Cards, they seem to reach post season every year, kind of a lackluster white-collar team. Gotta a go with the Dodgers~ Sorry guys.

Needless to say, the Cards are in, the Dodgers out. So now I'm going with the Red Sox, and here's why:

I'll start with the Cardinals~ They dropped the ball last night! Memories of my fifth grade farm team.

The Red Sox~ Fenway Park is arguably the best place to watch a baseball game: throwback(back to 1912), the Green Monster, the passionate blue-collar fans, better beer, better beards, scruffy and scrappy.

But the biggest reason I'm cheering on the Boston Red Sox tonight is this hand painted mural in my fan cave~~~

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The prior owners of the house must have been big fans, so naturally, I am too.
 

One Sentence Story

Hali and Carli recently took a trip to Chicago for a Disney audition. Obviously a visit to Chicago is not complete without a surprise "un-Birthday Party" celebration. I wonder what Grandma Catherine has up her sleeve? Well, I wasn't there so it's hard for me to comment so I asked Carli to write a one sentence story about her surprise dinner?? at Moto restaurant in Chicago.

Post Modern Gastronomy

Thank you Iron Chef for the artfully created dishes you served in 14 courses, but I'm still hungry.

Iron Chef Homaro Cantu

Probably a good thing I wasn't there for three reasons: One, it would be near impossible for me to write a one sentence story on an art museum disguised as a restaurant. I'll save my one sentence story for the COSTCO cafeteria. Two, I too would still be hungry. And three, I'd have fallen over when the bill came. Would've settled for a deep dish pizza at Gino's East.

The irony: I sold my chefs jacket and hat the same week to someone looking for a Halloween costume. Must be dressing up as an artist.

 

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Comment For The GOP

Better get your foot out of your mouth before you shoot yourself in the foot. Jest sayin'...

Pardon Me Kid, Can You Spare A Quarter?

Rex fished through his pockets for a quarter in search of the only state left to complete the U.S. State quarters map- Michigan. Wow, after ten years of collecting the state quarters we finally had all fifty. Now what?

Well, that map has been laying under Carli's bed ever since, collecting, not any more quarters, only dust. That's why it was time to cash in. 

Let's do the math. Math 20. Fifty states times twenty-five cents = $12.50. Time to sell this ten year investment. Sold $15, to a third grade kid studying the United States and it's Capitals. No commission fees.

For Carli, $2.50 profit on $12.50. A 20% return. For the kid, a U.S. map for his report and $12.50 in his pockets. Well done.

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Friend Finders

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Walking through the neighborhood park with Carlos, I came across these. I picked them up and was about to throw them in the trash. I didn't want some young kids getting their hands on them. Just as I was about to toss them, I thought, wait a minute, I'll be in Ireland next week, these might come in handy.

I don't smoke, never have, and wasn't about to take it up in a Dublin pub. So I stashed them in my pack of postcards and little gifts and took them along on the trip. 

Conversation in a crowded Dublin pub with a local lad and translating a thick Gaelic accent could be challenging. So I'd whip these out, offer one up, and we'd head outside with our pints. No one ever even noticed, or maybe they were just being polite, that I wasn't smoking. 

As is customary in Ireland, a fair shake was indeed in order. Next pint was on my new found Irish buddy. And we carried on...

An Old Flame

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This lamp belonged to my grandmother. I remember it sitting on a table in her pine paneled cabin on the lake in Ely Minnesota. I remember the haunting call of the loon. I remember the aroma of cinnamon buns and picking blueberries. I remember cane fishing from the pontoon boat for sunfish. The bunk house. The bear club. I have fond memories of my grandparents' cabin on Eagles Nest Lake, but I don't ever remember turning this lamp on.

This is an old oil lamp with a tank that leaked. I brought it home from my mothers intent on fixing it up and lighting an old flame once again. Sure enough, it did just that, just in time for the holidays. Sitting atop the piano, that lamp was aglow again. New life to an old flame.

A couple weeks later, I found it lifeless, broken on the floor. The hand painted glass bulb shattered. How it tipped over, after sitting on the piano for several years, remains a mystery. An aberration? The haunting call of the loon?

Stowed away in a box for nearly a year, it is now in good hands with a couple that refurbishes these old oil lamps. Despite its short life in my home, I will always remember that old lamp, fixed up, alight in all its glory.

Stickin' Your Neck Out

Growing up in California our history lessons in grade school included studying the Mission Trail-El Camino Real. I remember the architectural masterpieces of the California Missions made in class with sugar cubes, popsicle sticks, toothpicks, and modeling clay. The memorable field trip to Santa Barbara exploring inside the mission walls, and our sack lunches. But the most lasting memory I have of Santa Barbara is of the giraffe with the crooked neck at the local zoo.

Gemina the giraffe

Recently some friends of mine took a road trip down to Santa Barbara. Before they left, I asked them to send a postcard or at the very least, send a picture of the peculiar giraffe with the crooked neck at the Santa Barbara Zoo. That giraffe might make a good story. Well, apparently after a long life at the zoo, that giraffe had died a few years ago.

So instead of sending nothing, Bev sent this...

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Captions anyone? I'll start~~~ Friar J-Bird

Hands on Hops

I rarely pass on a beer function here in Portland especially when the sunny days are waning and craft beer events evolve into the darker seasonals. Last chance for big hoppy beers was at Oaks Park, and on this gorgeous day along the river, I was pouring beer. Fresh hopped beer.

I learned from a local hop grower that hop roots were brought to America in 1622 on the second Mayflower. It's no wonder those Pilgrims were so friendly with the natives. With westward expansion, Oregon became the leader in the world for hop production. Last weekend was the Fresh Hop Festival, and Oregon's finest brewmasters were featuring their beers with hops, fresh off the vine.

 Hands on Hops

At 8pm the taps turned off for the guests and on for the volunteer servers-the Brew Crew. As a member of this crew, I had the opportunity to rub mugs with local brewers, hop producers, and beer SNOB's(Supporter of Native Oregon Beer). And the best part, sampling most of the thirty something beers on tap. The best fresh hopped beer in the world, hands down.

Being partial to dog themed beers, I'll mention just one sample from Lucky Labrador Brewery. The Munich style Biergarten in SE Portland, where Carlos(my lab-mix mutt) and I fell in love. After harvesting a variety of hops from their hop picking party(dang dawgs, next year invite me), the brewers came up with The Mutt- a true mixed-breed beer. My favorite, paws down.

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Some Say Tomayto...

                                       

After a good summer harvest of ruby red tomatoes, the last three days of September brought in the cold and over six inches of rain in Portland. Fall had arrived. The last of the tomatoes still on the vine, still green.

It took the Italians hundreds of years of growing tomatoes before they began using the green tomatoes. They would leave the green fruit on the vine as decoration in the garden, like their wine grapes. In Mexico, they use tomatillos for salsas and stews. And we all know what they do with green tomatoes in the Deep South. Like everything else, they deep fry them.

No sense throwin' em in the composter. I'm pickin' em, puttin' em in a salsa verde, and slatherin' over a pork loin. Then I'm roastin' it.

I've got about three pounds of green grape and heirloom tomatoes. Cut them in half and lay on cookie sheet. With a couple green chilies, roast in a hot oven for 15 minutes. While you're roastin', cut up a few cloves of garlic and a white onion.

After the tomatoes and peppers have been roasted, bring out the food processor. In batches combine the tomatoes, peppers, garlic, and onion. To this you'll add the seasonings: salt, pepper, cayenne, cumin, oregano, cilantro. Juice a whole lime and to the batch add a couple tablespoons of white vinegar. Blend the salsa a few pulses so that is not chunky not purée. 

There you have it, green sauce, or for the fancy pants chef, salsa verde~Ooh fancy~Slather over a pork loin and roast at medium until the middle reaches 145*.

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Stay tuned for my simple butternut squash side. The perfect accompaniment to this pork dish.

'Tis The Season For A Seance

In our uncluttering efforts, I scour Craigslist wanted ads just about every day. It's amazing what people are looking for, and if we have it, don't use or need it, we'll get rid of it. We are no longer married to our toys in the attic. Toys covered in cob webs.

As Halloween approaches, the requests get more weird, even creepy. The other day I saw a post: Looking for Ouija Board. 

So I replied back: I have one.

A day went by before hearing from this~ wanted poster~ and the virtual dialog went like this...

He says, I have one but it doesn't work. What kind do u have?

I respond back, I've got one. It works excellent. My mother-in-law was levitated 4 ft. away from the table then suddenly dropped to the floor. She survived, but gotta tell you, I still laugh at the sight- it's yours for $5.

A day goes by, then he writes back, Really, witch model, witch year? Do u have a picture?

Okay, this person?? was creepin' me out. Last thing I want is some random Craigslister with MY Ouija Board.

Made in Salem, Mass.?? OOH, Spooky~

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Go With The Underdog

It was just over two short years ago, I thought we might be an owner of a black, three-legged dog. I started reading three-legged dog forums(yes, it's true) online just for support. Get it? Three legs? Support? Woof, Woof!!(Not Funny). Seriously, I did get support and it was very positive. In the end, it all worked out-tail's still waggin'.

 X-ray of fixed-up foot

Carlos snapped a tendon from his right ankle down to his foot like a rubberband. This happened without warning and without cause. Timing couldn't be better for this 10 year old dog. Not only was he in great shape, we were less than a week away from traveling in Europe, a day away from Carli's High School graduation, and a houseful of visitors.

Just like Underdog, Mormor saved the day. Carlos was due to spend a month with Mormor(mother's mother) in Bend Oregon while we were away. She's dealt with surgically repaired legs on dogs and boy, did Carlos and Mormor's heroic response come through.

After 6 weeks in a cast, the rehabilitation started. Short leashed, brief walks several times a day. Restrained play with his best friends, including me. No more bike rides, no more off leash hikes. At least for a year. Very difficult for an active dog in an active household. But we did it, and here we are a couple years older, frostier muzzle, with our fixed-up, four-legged friend.

Super Dog, CARLOS, bionic foot to boot.

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