Tangletown Tourist

Wow! I've had the hardest time thinking of a blog topic for the week. I tend to be drawn to travel posts, sharing my discoveries of interesting places and activities. But this weekend, I stuck close to home. No bus trips, no car rides - even my one bicycle journey was less than 2.5 miles roundtrip.

And yet, there was never a dull moment. I am extremely fortunate to live in a neighborhood with activities galore. Saturday commenced with a run around Green Lake. I live less than a mile away from this Seattle destination and enjoy watching the myriad dogs, kids, and exercisers. I'm always surprised if I don't run into people I know while I'm there - from the neighborhood, church or the library world. My favorite sight this weekend: two photographers in a Tai Chi pose trying to capture the majesty (and oddity) of a heron on a log.

After Green Lake, I managed to cajole Trent to join me at the University District Farmer's Market (I have a not-so-secret-fantasy that I am a vendor of pastries or produce there) for lunch. My choice: a veggie quesadilla from Patty Pan Grill, which I had been craving since a Wednesday night visit to the Wallingford Farmer's Market. Trent's selection: two salmon sliders from Loki. Loki's prepared food is a more recent addition to the market and I will have to give it a try next time around. Of course, a springtime visit to the Farmer's Market would not be complete without a half flat of strawberries, sugar snap peas, asparagus and a growler of Rachel's Ginger Beer. Our newest must-have is Greek yogurt from Ellenos Real Greek Yogurt - super decadent, this is much more like ice cream than your typical yogurt.

We parted ways, but reunited for iced coffee at Chaco Canyon, our local hippie cafe, which touts the fact that they cater to high-maintenance menu needs. Vegan? Raw? Gluten-free? They've got something delicious for you. Got a compact florescent light bulb to dispose of? They'll recycle it for you. Unlike most local coffee establishments, they serve their ice drinks in a reusable cup, which totally appeals to my environmental side.

Dinner contained a number of local home-made options - wheat berry salad using some of the wheatberries remaining from last year's Local Choice CSA and chorizo sausages from Skagit River Ranch grilled up on the George Foreman and served with Trent's sister's homemade walnut mustard.

We finished up the evening with leftover rhubarb crisp (a classic Betty Crocker recipe with rhubarb from last week's market) and Jeopardy re-runs on Crackle.

This morning after weights and church (for me), we headed out to lunch and were disappointed to note that Hiroki had completely run out of savory options (we often eat a turkey egg gruyere roll or a sausage caraway roll), so we dined at Zoka instead (which has superior coffee, but inferior lunches - at least for a husband who hates caprese sandwiches) and returned to Hiroki for a chocolate pot de creme. Another quick walk to Green Lake before returning to my front yard to bask in the sun and wait for my book club to arrive for further merriment.

I feel exceedingly lucky to have so many wonderful cafes, restaurants and bars to enjoy without leaving the confines of my neighborhood. What are some of your neighborhood treasures?

Favorite Books (so far) of 2014

I can safely say that I am addicted to books. Earlier this year, I committed to slowing down my reading pace, yet I have still read 79 books - not including picture books - since January 1st. While I will likely not hit the 212 books of 2013 or the 253 of 2012, it still gives me a lot of great choices to share with my friends and family. And as a firm believer in using library resources, all of the links point to SPL's site, unless otherwise specified.

Fiction
The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert. 1800s female botanist goes to Tahiti to try to solve the mystery of her husband. If I believed in synchronicity, I would think the world was pushing me toward a visit to the South Pacific.

The Way Men Act by Elinor Lipman (okay, this one is out of print, so you'll have to get it elsewhere - but locally, Sno-Isle Libraries owns it). Malinda moves home to her small town, feeling a failure at age 30. I adore Lipman's flawed and witty characters and the way she writes relationships.

The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion. Charming - professor with Asperger syndrome embarks on "the wife project" and finds someone completely opposite of his plans.

Non-Fiction
Wild Tales: A Rock & Roll Life by Graham Nash. Crosby, Stills and Nash (with or without Young) is the soundtrack of my childhood and boy, can Nash tell a story! While I read this in print, I would suggest (based on listening to the Fresh Air interview) listening to this in audio.

An Island to Oneself: the Story of Six Years on a Desert Island by Tom Neale. One of our readalouds, I was disappointed to have to turn it in before we'd finished it and overjoyed to find it on my sister's book shelf on my last visit.

Writing is My Drink by Theo Pauline Nestor. Memoir of a writing life - of finding your voice with tips and writing prompts. This is the writing book that got my gears turning. It doesn't hurt that Nestor is a local author.

Delancey: A Man, a Woman, a Restaurant, a Marriage by Molly Wizenberg. Reading of the opening of this Seattle restaurant makes me want to dream big (and also finally head out there to try some of their famous pizza).

Children's Books
Lord and Lady Bunny: Almost Royalty by Polly Horvath. Horvath has a quirky and acerbic humor that wins me over every time and this sequel is no exception.

Counting by 7s by Holly Goldberg Sloan. I wanted to resist this "heartwarming" book about Willow, an orphan with some social disorder finding new family - but it won me over in the end.

Looking over my list, I'm surprised that no teen fiction has made the cut - but I haven't been reading as much of it lately, though I'm sure I'll pick it up again later in the year.

What books should I read this summer? I choose through most books through blogs and reviews, but I'm always looking for personal suggestions.

In Search of Cinnamon Rolls

Though the forecast called for rain both days, this weekend was surprisingly lovely. I have a resolution to take advantage of "good enough" days for sailing, rather than waiting for the elusive perfect day with both sun and wind. So when I noticed the wind at 11 knots on Saturday morning and rain not forecast until late afternoon, we jumped on the chance for a quick day sail to Eagle Harbor in search of lunch and cinnamon rolls at our one of our favorite bakeries.

The wind died again shortly after we got out to the water, but we were able to sail quite a bit (dropping from 5 knots per hour to 4.5 to 4 to 3) before deciding that we needed lunch and that there was still a possibility of making it to Bainbridge Bakers before they closed the kitchen at 2 - but only if we started the engine. While I hate to shatter the calm, I get hangry when my blood sugar drops - and trust me, you don't want to see me when I get hangry. Summer hours had begun, so the kitchen was actually open until 4, but we would have been there just in the nick of time either way.

We got dessert first - a cranberry pull-apart cinnamon roll. Trent ordered the last meatball sandwich. It was a bit too messy to share, but I trusted his report that it was "good". I chose the turkey pesto panini, which comes on thick delicious bread alongside potato chips and a pickle spear. Yum, yum, yummy! Last time I ordered the same thing and made the tactical error of eating all but a bite or two. This time, I saved half for later. Apparently only about half the people who order it succeed in eating the entire sandwich in one sitting. My mocha with light whip was decadent without the cloyingly sweet flavor found in so many sweetened drinks.

Two rounds of Bananagrams later, we headed home, just in time for erratic winds and a sprinkle of rain. We motored to avoid the frustration of flying a spinnaker at glacial speed. What a day!

What is your favorite Saturday adventure?

What a Difference a Week Makes

What a difference a week makes! Last Saturday: Tahoe with the family. This Saturday: the Tour de Cure with friends. Forty miles of riding in Woodinville and Redmond in the chilly grey, which turned to rain midway before drying off again. We rode together last year as well in the annual fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association, but last year was sunny and warm and I had been training. This year, I took a few rides around Green Lake and along the Burke Gilman to Fremont, but not much more than eight miles at a time. While I can get on a bike, ride forty miles and survive without training, I can't say I recommend it. There was also a part of me that longed to downshift to the twenty-five mile event, but I didn't want to let my friends (or myself) down.

Though I started the morning out reluctantly, by the time we reached the start line at Chateau Ste. Michelle, a smile erupted and my heart sang. After a reminder that "this is a ride, not a race" we set off. I realized immediately that my front derailleur had jostled out of place in the car ride up and I could no longer adjust the big chain ring. While I wasn't quite sure what I needed to do to fix it (I really should take a bicycle maintenance class rather than relying on Trent's expertise), my savvy friend got me shifting normally again in two seconds. By this point, we were still ahead of some of the folks in our wave, but less than five minutes later, our other riding partner got a flat tire. I was impressed by how fast he fixed the flat - my fingers were already numb with cold and would not have been cooperative - but by the time we got on the road again, everyone had passed us. My friends very kindly kept my glacial pace, which meant that we passed few people on the route to the finish.

I feel like such a turtle - when I purchased my Schwinn mountain bike back in 1998, it had been a decade or so since I'd been on a bike. I test rode a number of choices and felt most comfortable (i.e. least likely to fall off) a bike with a frame that is much too small for my 5'8" frame. It never really bothered me until last year when I noticed people of every age and fitness level passing me with their road bikes. My one saving grace was my endurance - I would catch up at the rest stops and then stop for much shorter periods of time. The next time I saw a reflection of myself bicycling, I noticed the inefficiency of my hunchbacked, squished-up method of pedaling. I debated between a new road bike or a folding bike and I ultimately opted for the option that assisted most in my daily commute. Now I wonder if I should splurge and do both. My helpful husband has suggested that maybe I should just save money by doing intervals to increase my average pace.

While I initially had a hard time staying in the moment, continually glancing at my bike computer, calculating the distance remaining, by the last six miles, it was as though a switch had flipped. Rather than sharing a steep road with speedy cars, we had switched to the scenic (and relatively flat) Sammamish River Trail. Without the traffic noise, it was much easier to visit as we rode along. Had the whole journey been like that, I might have easily gone the 70 miles (though maybe that is a tad optimistic). Food trucks awaited us and we greedily gulped our paleo-food before returning hope triumphant.

Note: I am pleased to report a day later that my body has not actively rebelled against me and I feel less achy than after my first half marathon.

Sistertime!

"Okay, our turn is coming up soon. There's a sign that says we should get in the left lane."
"That's not it, is it?"
"I don't think so - it looks like a driveway."

We continue down the road, now with no other left turns in sight. "I think that was it."

Erin's iPhone rings and I pick up since she is driving. It's Dan, my brother who is riding along in the car with Paul, my brother-in-law. While we have not been caravaning, they have somehow crept up behind us. "You missed the turn!"

"Yeah, yeah, we know - we're just looking for a place to turn around."

By this point, there is a barrier in the middle of the road and we are descending down, down, down to the capital of Nevada. "My car's not going to like going back up this." Erin has a sweet, little grey Hyundai Accent, which is great for getting her where she wants to go, but not necessarily very fast - I believe she said it goes zero to sixty in ten minutes.

We finally see a place to turn and go back up the thousand feet of elevation that we've lost, motioning Paul to keep going - he's got a Hyundai Accent too, but somehow his is a little zippier - maybe because it has a manual transmission. From this side of the highway, the turn is well-marked with a large sign pointing the way. After another uneventful fifteen or twenty minutes of driving we reach our destination - Incline Village on Lake Tahoe.

I have been going through sister withdrawal. My sister Erin moved to California two and a half years ago and I miss playing in our fake band, running into her at the dock, late night happy hour at Ray's, impromptu sailing trips and other last minute get-togethers. That's why, even though I just returned from Oakland, I immediately booked a ticket when she told me she had a week off at the beginning of May. While I had a work obligation today that I couldn't skip, I was able to take Friday through Tuesday off for a long weekend of sister fun. We didn't want to drive more than a few hours each way and neither of us had been to Tahoe.We even extended an invitation to the guys, though they could only stay one night.

Lake Tahoe's beauty is breath-taking - or maybe it is the elevation gain. While it is approximately the same length as Lake Washington, it has almost 6 times the area and has a surface elevation of 6,224' compared to the 16' 1" elevation of our nearest large lake. The water color varies dramatically from brown to aqua to a deep blue and is so delicious that Erin and Paul were tempted to return with several gallon jugs to take home with them. The beaches look nearly tropical, especially Sand Harbor (with its unusual rock formations) - until you notice the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas encircling the lake.

One summer whilst visiting relatives in Eastern Washington, we played a game called "ah, this is the life" where Erin played an heiress relaxing in her mansion, as I, her loyal servant adjusted the blinds and brought over refreshments (yes, I know that it is strange that both of us enjoyed the game). Every once in a while, she would sign and say "ah, this is the life". Well, even without a servant to cater to my every whim, I found myself breathing deeply several times throughout our trip (usually in the hot tub of the spot we reserved from airbnb) and murmuring that very phrase.

While I won't go into all of the details of the trip, I will share some vital statistics (while I think they might be enhanced by an infographic, I am too lazy to create one, so you will have to use your imaginations).

• Road kill spotted: too numerous to count - I think the springtime has the rodents blinded by love and ignoring the freeway.
• Bears: one, a super-cute design on my mocha from I.V. Coffee Lab - sadly, neither Erin nor I had our cameras with us and when we returned, a different barista was on duty
• Missed turns: 2
• Times in the hot tub: 4 in 3 days
• Ethan Hawke movies watched: 2 (but only after Dan and Paul were away)
• Money lost by me at the slot machines: $1 (I really don't like gambling)
• Beaches: 5
• most Safeways visited in a day: 2.5 (there was a strange mini-mart Safeway adjacent to the Safeway gas station in South Lake Tahoe, which we quickly exited before finding the real store)
• Inedible gluten-free waffles: one, before we switched to pancakes

Where was your last family vacation?

Lessons from Grandma: or Aging Well

Lately, I've been thinking about aging. Just over a month ago, I started my first middle-aged medication (for high blood pressure). It felt like my body betrayed me, especially when I asked if there were any changes I could make. "Well," said my family doctor (who delivered me and still sees my parents), "cutting back on salt or alcohol may help, but you already do everything else. I guess there is something to be said for genetics". My dad started b.p. meds in his 30s and my grandfather had his first stroke in his 40s. Why couldn't I have inherited my mom's healthy blood pressure instead?

At the same time, my father has been going through some mobility issues, needing cast, crutches or a wheely cart to get around. Unfortunately, to enter my parent's house, you have the choice of either a steep hill or precarious stairs. He's been dealing with it and there will soon be a bit of a reprieve, as a longtime family friend is installing a safer set of stairs and a railing (along with some other helpful modifications). In the long-term though, the house would be nearly impossible to make accessible (without lifting on stilts). Hopefully it won't be a problem for decades...

My model of graceful aging is my grandmother. Grandma is in her mid-80s, but you'd never know it. She works from home, tends a garden and is the linchpin of the bell choir at my aunt and uncle's church. She rarely sits still. Up until about five years ago, she cooked the entire Christmas and Thanksgiving spread every year. When the family finally convinced her to accept help, she still cooked everything she always did - we just had more food. On the way home from my aunt's annual New Year's Day dinner, I remarked to one of the other guests, a nurse in her early 60s, "I hope I have the kind of energy my grandma has when I'm her age".

"Heck," she responded, "I wish I had that kind of energy now.

I just finished reading What Makes Olga Run by Bruce Grierson, about a 93 year old track star. "Trent, do you think Grandma would ever do something like that?"

"Probably not". But she could if she wanted to.

Lessons from Grandma:

1. Keep moving with both organized and lifestyle exercises. Not only does Grandma rarely sit still for longer than a few minutes at a time, she's kept up an exercise routine for decades. She does Jack LaLanne exercises (and sometimes does sit-ups even as the cat jumps on her stomach). Gardening is a way of life for her.
2. Eat your veggies - and fruits! While Grandma does have flowers and shrubs, the largest portion of the yard is taken up by berries, beans, corn, tomatoes, zucchini, peas, carrots and more - not to mention the pear and apple trees along the border of the yard that fill a second refrigerator with their bounty in the autumn months.
3. Cook your own food. Grandma enjoys the occasional meal out at Ivar's, but for the most part, she is the chef, enjoying steak and roasted turkey breast. No microwave meals or shortcuts for her.
4. Limit your salt. Grandma just doesn't cook with salt. That probably started to help Grandpa's blood pressure, but it has likely helped her as well.
5. Limit alcohol. Grandma doesn't drink. Period.
6. Work at something related to what you love. While I'm sure that Grandma does not love every moment of her work-life (and the family is convinced that her boss takes advantage of her), her work is linked to her knowledge of plants and gardens. I'm certain she's not just in it for the money.
7. Take up a hobby. Grandma didn't start playing the bells until she was in her 70s. Now she won't miss it for anything.
8. Stay connected. That bell choir also gets her out of the house, meeting new people and spending additional time with my aunt and uncle.
9. Exercise your brain. We all know not to call Grandma between 7:30 and 8 when Jeopardy is on. I haven't watched it with her recently, but I suspect she could give me and Trent a run for our money.
10. Enjoy nature. In addition to gardening, Grandma has extensive indoor plants and enjoys watching the birds at her feeder.
11. Know thyself. Grandma does not like to travel - so she doesn't, other than the occasional trip to Colorado to visit her siblings. When her boss says she should join him in Florida for a visit, she declines, mentioning to us, "I don't want to go someplace with alligators". While I can't imagine a full life that does not include travel, that doesn't mean she needs to go anywhere.

What lessons have you learned from your elders?

Recipe for a Relaxed Brunch

I've always longed to have a welcoming house - the type of place where friends and family feel comfortable to rummage around in my refrigerator when a sudden craving arrives, where "mi casa is su casa" and entertaining feels effortless.

Alas, that is not the case. I've become the adult keeping a watchful eye on the crystal and china anytime a toddler visits. And I once had a terrible fight with my brother when he tried to bring an extra couple over for dinner (in my defense, I talked to him after already buying ingredients and before listening to his phone message where he said he was bringing extra appetizers and desserts). I anxiously eye the pork tenderloin, hoping to cook it enough to avoid giving trichinosis to my guests without giving them meat dry as sawdust. In short, fun Mary-me disappears when I'm entertaining and fussy Martha-me appears in a sort of Jekyll and Hyde switch.

But today was different. I invited my parents over for Easter lunch, hoping to pick a meal where I could just relax. At first the worry kicked in - can I make something relatively healthy that both of my parents with polar opposite tastes can enjoy that will not negatively impact my father's blood sugar - but then I lighted on the perfect solution: lentil soup. How can you go wrong with a Caesar salad, a loaf of sourdough bread and a pot of the dish that Esau sold his birthright for? (Wow, two biblical references in one blog post - but it is Easter). So I bought ingredients and started some vegetable broth from my freezer bag of veggie scraps before heading out to 8:30 a.m. choir rehearsal. Returning home at 11:30, I still had time to chop veggies and sausage (Hempler's Andouille), toss a salad and share a Mighty O apple fritter and Zoka mocha with Trent (quite a treat, as we normally frequent doughnut happy hour, when doughnuts are half price and the fritters are long since sold out).

My parents were 15 minutes late - stuck in traffic - but who cares when you've got soup, which only tastes better the longer the flavors meld. We sat, told stories and laughed for 45 minutes before sitting down to dine. Afterwards, we talked until my dad looked as though he was about to fall asleep on the couch. And while I still served them beverages, I like to think that they would have felt comfortable enough to get their own.

No-stress Lentil Soup

Dutch oven full of vegetable broth

1 lb. lentils

2 carrots, chopped

3 celery spears, chopped

one onion, diced

3 Yukon gold potatoes, diced

3 sausages, chopped

pinch of thyme

pinch of marjoram

salt to taste

Fill Dutch oven with vegetable scraps.  Carrot peelings, onion tops and skins or leek tops and celery ends are good. Add one bay leaf and a half dozen peppercorns. Cover with water. Bring to a boil. Turn down heat and simmer for at least a half hour. Let cool enough so you don't get steam burns and strain vegetables.

Saute sausage in a no-stick pan. Add vegetables and continue to cook until onions are translucent. Add broth. Pick over lentils (okay, I actually don't spend very much time doing this, as I have never once found a stone in the bag) and add to soup. Add thyme and marjoram. Bring to boil, then reduce to a simmer for about an hour or until potatoes and lentils are soft. Salt to taste (which for me isn't much, because of the flavor from the sausage and my tendency towards high blood pressure). This soup will thicken into more of a stew. I suppose you could add more broth or water, but why would you want to?

Serve with crusty french bread, fresh ground pepper if you want to be fancy, an honest smile and a sigh of relief.

Serves four, with lots and lots of leftovers to take to work throughout the week. It will develop an even more complex flavor as time goes by.

What is your favorite low-stress recipe?