Block Party

 Today was our annual block party, which always fills me with a little dread, since being around groups of people isn't really my thing.  

I also had a birthday cake to bake,  for one of my teachers ( I try to make a cake for all the employee birthdays, and simply ran out of steam yesterday and didn't get hers done) and the house to clean, so I had to get up early and face the day with my toughest yoga work out to mentally prepare for what lie ahead- lots of cooking and shopping and delivery of cake!

The block party was started 12 years ago by a couple with lots of enthusiasm for activities and neighborliness, and  while we always participate, we are not really model neighbors.  This year one of my employees happened to move onto my street (a weird coincidence) and when he mentioned not attending, it felt like a terrible thing to do!

You have to come! We all dread it, but we all do it!  

I guilt tripped him enough to have him come over early to help me cook, and move the table, since Mark was helping his sister move, until right when the party started.

We had a pretty nice time cooking and drinking coffee, which is pretty much my favorite thing to do on a Saturday afternoon, anyway. 

The party went well, and Freyja had a blast playing with the neighborhood children and eating tons of candy, and wacking the hell out of a pinata.  

The families that have taken over the organization of the party the last couple of years have made a point of writing NO ALCOHOL on the invitation, which was a pretty weird thing to do, since prior to them writing that, no one had ever brought alcohol to the block party in the past, that I know of -perhaps they just weren't sharing with me?   

This year, many people, in protest,  showed up with wine and beer, and one couple brought a giant thermos of Jungle Juice, in a wagon,  just to be cute.   The winos and jungle juicers had a gay old time playing bingo, which was led by the son of the nonalcohol invitation people, and I don't think anyone was badly offended. I hope not at least.  Mark drank a PBR out of a coffee mug, it was all very absurd.

I made 25 devil's food cupcakes, with cayenne pepper dark chocolate ganache, which is pretty nice for adults, but probably not the best thing to serve to children- the hot pepper had already gone in, before I thought of that angle.

buttermilk mashed, garlic potatoes, with dill and chives

a prune and green apple stuffed pork tenderloin for Mark, with sauteed cabbage and green apples

macaroni salad, for something traditionally block partyish

people slowly gathering in the street.

games for the children & the lady with the jungle juice

our little corner!

Mark manning the pinata

a visit from a vintage fire truck

Mark pretending to be a creepy old Bingo lady

a movie on the front lawn of the people that I suspect that Freyja would like to be adopted by (they have nice grass AND a big dog).

Going down on my permanent record.

I have been on a LOUD music kick lately, when driving in the car, without the children.

Today was all about the Violent Femmes, which I mostly have to listen to when I am alone, due to the lyrics.   
Yes, I have gone all Tipper Gore in my old age, sigh.

a roof over our heads

For years and years we have talked about putting a roof back on our deck (we took the tacky, broken one off when we moved in). 

I recently had some work done for the school and really liked the quality and style of the carpenter, so I asked him if he could make us a deck cover that didn't look too hillbilly, yet not break the bank, which is what he did!

Woohoo!

and while all of that hard work was going on outside of the kitchen, I was busy inside, baking some tarts, win/win baby!

I love my new, old oven! 

raspberries and dark cherries

Marionberry & peach on an almond, oat shortbread crust, of my own invention.

Blue Lake Park

I really needed to get away, so I loaded Miss F into the car early Saturday morning and we drove east, along the Columbia river, out of town, away from phones and e-mail and housework.

We stopped off first in Hood River to pick some cherries and to kill some time until the sun showed up.  I would have kept on driving right on into Idaho, had Freyja not insisted on a destination.  So I made one up.

It was a windy overcast day, and even I needed a sweater!

The farm was sweet and the trees were tiny, the ladders stable, it almost felt like cheating, the ease of picking!

Organic cherries! $2.00 a pound!  We wound up picking 15 pounds, which is a lot of cherries!
Whew!

they provided us with lovely buckets and ladders and low hanging fruit.

Then we headed back west toward the dam, and stopped at the fish hatchery to get a peek at Herman the Surgeon, and pick up a coffee at the gift shop. 

Dinosaur Fish! 

We hit Blue Lake Park at noon, and the water was warm enough for swimming.  This is an idea place to go if you have young children, not a great place to go if you hate children and families, because it is packed with them.  There is a beautiful piece of the lake that is covered in lilypads and waterlilies, just remarkable to look at, but the action is down by the beach, where the sand bottom and shallow warm water make it easy for parents to let their children play in the water.  I blew it by not bringing a friend along form Freyja.

 On the way home we stopped off at Sheridan Foods and bought some things to BBQ for dinner.  It turned out to be a pretty excellent day, all and all!

toys in the attic

I made the mistake of mentioning to Freyja that I had a lot of my old toys stored in the attic.  She pestered me to show her all morning, so I moved a bookcase out of the way, and pulled out one box of dusty old dolls, which seemed to appease her relentless curiosity.  

I also found a vintage suitcase, which I used to use to use to store photos and keepsakes.  I had forgotten about most of those photos, so it was fun to see them after 13 years in the attic.

I like looking at photos of my old apartment on Broadway drive, and impress myself with how much work I did with so little money on that old shack.

My mother and I painted every inch of the place, wallpapered extensively and sanded down the floors (which had been painted over for a hundred years) we replaced glass in windows that had been painted black (who needs curtains, right? ) we put a drain board in the kitchen and shelving underneath to create a countertop.... It was a dump when I moved in, and a pretty spiffy dump when I left in 1991. I am pretty impressed with my 19 year old self, and my handywoman skills!

this red futon was the first piece of furniture I ever bought, it cost $200 and I thought I had lost my mind.

The poodle was a gift from an old boyfriend, the poodle stayed with me for 17 years, the boyfriend was gone within two.

My college roommate J, showing off her tough motorcycle burn, and dish washing skills.  We had a lot of laughs in that apartment, although she accused me regularly of trying to turn the place into Daisykingdom, and she hated my red wainscoting.  I did have then and still do today have a lot of knickknacks, I like my stuff, what can I say.

sometimes you bite the bear and sometimes you watch "the big lebowski"

The tailend of another long week, left me lazy and tired and ready to have someone else do the cooking, someone that knows how to make steaming hot corn tortillas... we ate at Casa Del Sol, AGAIN, way out in the hood, complete with a toothless lady of the evening marching in and complaining about the Pinesol smell (it was a bit much, in her defense). 
I am madly, insanely in LOVE with those tortillas.
What can I say?
They are that good.

We had something stupid arrive from Netflix, and I asked Mark for the big lebowski, which he rummaged around and found in the basement.  I love that film, A LOT, even if they didn't play my favorite song at the end, but they do, so I love it a lot more.

not much of a joiner

I made the mistake, or misstep of enrolling in this newish program for "childcare professionals" that is designed to recognize all of our unrecognized hard work in a field that no one takes seriously. 
There has been a great bit of hay made over this program in the past few years, and as usual I have pretty successfully ignored it, as I am really not much of a joiner and am generally dubious about any organization that might want me for a member.
Last November I was awarded a scholarship for a piece of this program, a sort of distant cousin, and it turned out to be a pretty lovely experience, I even gained a slick certificate to post on my office wall, so I thought what the hell and went forward with my application to be further immersed.

Initially I was told that I was IN, which despite a life long hatred of organized stuff, clubs and committees and the like, felt pretty dang good.  So I mailed off a modest stack of stuff to the governmental agency overseeing things, and waited.
The first discouraging letter came about three weeks ago, followed by two more.  At first I furnished more information, provided a $10 fee and felt bad inside, for my lack of accumulated certificates and memberships to organizations and affiliations with societies and clubs.  Then I became irritated and finally I gave up, but I happened to chat with a woman that works with the program I worked with over winter and she fired up a tiny flame of hope again and I was back to photo copying and begging and pleading my case, just like that.
Today I got a e-mail from a very genuinely nice lady requesting a course description from a sociology class that I took the fall of 1988! I have no memory of the class and no clue as to where I would put my hands on an old catalog, so once again I am letting it all go and trying no to feel too foolish and done in, at not having saved my old syllabuses from the 80's, because clearly, at this point in the game I will never be able to make something of myself, even if I try!

going dental

So my crown is back on, which is a good thing, but my mouth remains super NUMB after three hours, not such a good thing, considering I need to leave soon for a meeting where I will be expected not to drool.

I scream for ice cream

After an ass kicking emotional week, I needed some big diversions.

Homemade ice cream and salted chocolate caramels were the thing, but never one to leave well enough alone, some berries would be good too, and perhaps some caramel sauce, and nuts?
Why not a soup?
Oh, and Freyja needs a bath after all that  berry picking, and there is vacuuming to be done,  and shopping at three stores and, and, and. I just really needed not to think about work any more. 
So there was the diversion I needed.
Everything went well, until one of my crowns came off a back tooth.  If you know me at all, you know I have  a deep fear of losing my teeth, I am a compulsive tooth brusher, so while it didn't hurt, it was a big source of anxiety having a missing crown.  My dentist phoned me back at 8:00pm and promised to squeeze me in on Monday.  He talked me down very sweetly and I managed not to freak out, too much.

She's baaaack!

Freyja came home from three weeks with grandma in San Francisco with red streaks in her hair.

cooling caramel with sea salt.

The finished and packaged product.

carrot & red pepper soup

Ripley taking liberties with Rolf's loose parenting.

I used the same table setting scheme two weeks in a row. Can you tell I have been stressed out?

Freyja & Rolf's bountiful harvest!

Our very rickety old ice cream maker, doesn't look like much, but works like a charm. 

I highly recommend inviting young people to dinner, then forcing them into hard labor.

is it possible to have too much desert?

Mr. Goody two shoes, declines both caramel ice cream and pie, and instead eats melon. 

a camera shy guest

the finished product!

sugar coma

a bit of music

Ripley sunning himself inside a hula hoop as if it were the most natural thing in the world.