August 2009

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The Best of Youth

August 28, 2009 in Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | Permalink

Have some time on your hands, say six hours or so?  Would you like to learn a little Italian as well as some recent Italian history?  Well then, queue up The Best of Youth and prepare to be dazzled.

The film, originally a mini-series on Italian television, follows the lives of two brothers, both brilliant and quite different in temperament, Nicola and Matteo Carati.  The story begins in 1966, as the brothers  prepare for exams and a summer of traveling the continent with their friends.  Life takes a turn, however, when the idealistic Matteo discovers a young woman named Giorgia victimized by electric shock at an internship.  Rather impulsively (a theme for him), he takes her from the hospital and the brothers embark on a journey to bring her home.

When the plan goes awry and Giorgia is taken by the authorities, the brothers, rather than resume their voyage, part company, both literally and metaphorically.  Matteo abandons his plans to become a doctor, joining the army and later the police, while Nicola travels to Norway, then back to Italy to help with the horrible flooding of Florence.  It is there that he meets and falls in love with Guilia, a pianist with violent communist leanings, while becoming a psychiatrist.

It is a story full of love, heartache, laughter, and surprises, exploring the bonds of family and friendship through the lens of forty years of Italian history (so much I didn’t know!).  A marvelous look at the beautiful people, landmarks, and landscapes, it is a story that will stay with me for a long time.

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Rest in Peace, Mr. Senator

August 26, 2009 in Celebrating, Quoting, Remembering by Colleen | 2 comments

Teddy Kennedy passed away today.  Though I did not always agree with his politics, I most certainly appreciated his passion, wit, and devotion to serving this great nation I call home.  He reached out to people across the country, and more importantly, across the aisle, to create legislation that he hoped would benefit all Americans.

In his own words, what I believe made him a fine man and servant of our nation:

“For all those whose cares have been our concern, the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die.”

“I hope for an America where neither ‘fundamentalist’ nor ‘humanist’ will be a dirty word, but a fair description of the different ways in which people of good will look at life and into their own souls.”

Thank you and rest in peace.

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Friday Evening at Washington Park

August 23, 2009 in Exploring, Watching by Colleen | 2 comments

I am a thrifty gal.  I love getting a good deal, or even better, something wonderful for free.  I don’t mind if I have to work a little for it either.  For instance, last fall, when everyone realized, gosh, this really is a recession and tightened their belts, the Willamette Week started running a series of listings for free, discounted, and cheap goods and services in a column called Cheapskate.  The first, at least that I participated in, was a discount at Music Millennium, one of the top rated independent music stores in the country (lucky us!).  For singing at least one minute from any song in the Sound of Music, I would get a 15% discount.  I could have gotten a whopping 25% off my purchase by showing up in a bikini, cowboy hat, and boots and singing any Johnny Cash tune, but totally lacked the cojones for that one – maybe next time.   Though I practiced for half the afternoon, I failed to remember the opening lines of “My Favorite Things,” so nervous was I.  Thankfully, I recovered, pride undamaged, and walked out proudly with my assorted CD’s.

So, as you might imagine, I keep a pretty close eye on the Cheapskate column.  Much to my delight, last week had a listing for a free showing of Vicky Christina Barcelona at the Washington Park Amphitheater, preceded by live Spanish music, of course.  I called the sweet hubster, and we made plans to go, go, go!

As it had been a while since we’d been to this neck of the woods (last year with my Uncle Chris), I was eager to wander around, take in the heady scent of roses and the beautiful views.  As I mentioned earlier this week, I no longer have roses of my own but remain utterly delighted in their presence.  That there could be such a wide variety of colors, scents, and sizes, all in one magical place, is truly marvelous.

Then there was this light, beautiful and bright, filtered through the evergreens.

Even more special was this tree.  I wish I knew the species, lovely, like a full skirt of weeping branches and fluttering leaves, but not a willow.  This photo is me and my camera lens looking up her verdant skirt.

Covering our sweet lady’s torso, and quite hidden by her skirt, was this “secret” assortment of carvings, years upon years of people wishing to make a permanent mark upon the earth, however small.  Though I would never have the heart to cut into a tree’s flesh like this, there is something beautiful about it, humbling.  Look at all the people here before you, but for a short time and then gone, as you shall be soon.  Where are they now?

Back at the blanket and my bestest Buddy.  We sat here, quite happily listening to songs, acoustic and hauntingly lyrical (I’m sorry I can’t remember the name of the band, oy!), him working his Rubik’s cube, and me reading and laughing along with Christopher Buckley (Losing Mum and Pup) as his parents passed from this life into the next.  Though the text was quite funny at times, I found myself cuddling closer and closer to the man I love the most, hoping our days together stretch far into the future.

Then it was time for the movie to start.  There was a chill in the air, and we wrapped ourselves up tightly in the blanket (do you like sausage?) and laughed and sighed, awed by the stunning landscapes, beautiful people, the story as only Woody Allen could tell it, and a magical night beneath the stars.

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I’ve Got Nothing

August 21, 2009 in Drinking, Exploring, Reading, Shopping, Spotlighting by Colleen | 3 comments

Seriously.  I cannot think of a single movie, book, or bit of musical genius to highlight, so, instead, poor grammar, random thoughts, and silliness will rule this post.

Bridget and I went to the Bagdad last night to see what could, quite possibly, be the worst film I’ve ever seen in a theater.  I won’t glorify its distasteful and utterly stupid badness by revealing the title, for that would amount to free advertising.  Anyway, about one third of the way through, I leaned over and whispered to Bridget, “Do you want to go to Goodwill?”  Were it not for the fact that she was midway through a glass of wine, I think we had some serious potential for an early exit.  Now I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever actually left a theater before the film was over.  I don’t think so; Buddy, have we?  However, this does remind me of the time I saw Henry and June at the Mayan (it’s so Aztec like) in Denver.  I observed a couple leave early for quite a different reason.  If you haven’t already seen it, rent it and you’ll know, too.

After the Bagdad, we went to Powell’s, and I bought books I hope to enjoy.  Please think good thoughts because I have had some duds this summer and haven’t finished any of them.  Here’s hoping these will satisfy:  Bergen Evans’s Dictionary of Quotations, Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, and Christoper Buckley’s Losing Mum and Pup. If the latter is anything like the raucous and witty good time of Thank You for Smoking (film version – I never read the book), I think I will like it, despite the slightly morbid subject matter.  In any case, it will be fascinating to read about what it was like to have William F. Buckley as a father.  I remember watching him on television (Firing Line) as a child, rapt.  I never understood a word he said (then, not now, I’ve grown up some), but, boy, did I love to listen to the man speak.  He certainly had his own way.  Here’s a link to a good example – Buckley in His Own Words.

What more can I tell you? A decaf Americano with heaps of half and half at the Fresh Pot after a satisfying book search (in which there was much discussion about who will buy the book with the cool cover AND remember the conversation if a divorce is ever required) and romp on Hawthorne with one of your best friends in the world is a marvelous way to end an evening out.  Marvelous, I tell you.

Oh, yes!  Thanks for the comments on the new blog header.  I thought it was about time I showed our actual red roof, and I liked the light that evening, so there you go.  Have a super weekend!

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Possibility

August 20, 2009 in Quoting by Colleen | Permalink

Energy rightly applied and directed can accomplish anything.

Nelly Bly

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A Little Bit at a Time…

August 18, 2009 in Being, Cooking and Baking by Colleen | 4 comments

Will you look at these beautiful, picked-this-morning tomatoes?   They are a mixture of Early Girl and Willamette.  An aside, here’s a little rhyme for the non-locals for proper pronunciation of the river valley we call home.  It’s Willamette, damn-it!  While we’re here, I might as well go all the way – this fine state I inhabit is called Ory-gun, not Ory-gone.  Glad we cleared that up; you know, because I’m sure it was on your mind!  Anyway, getting back to what I was saying.  I put the tomato plants in the ground, along with some pickling cucumbers, what seems like ages ago, and slowly, slowly, they made fruits and ripened to this perfect state, ready for canning.  This is my third and largest batch.

What is that you say, largest?  Yes, largest.  With my recovery and putting food by, we take it a little bit at a time.   If it weren’t for those meddling kids, I mean slugs (at least for the cucumber plants) and blood loss, I’m sure we’d be doing better: more cucumbers, more zip.  I learned at my last appointment that I lost 1500ml of blood during my surgery, which is about 1/3 of my total volume (yikes!).  It is also the primary reason they couldn’t complete the procedure laparoscopically and why I’ve been so darn tired!

Despite wanting to get all of my healing done pronto or wishing I could can ONE giant batch of tomatoes and pickles, that just isn’t the way of it.  Besides, who am I to argue with the grand plan?  There is no magic button to make blood or ripen vegetables at the precise moment of ultimate convenience, no siree.  But there is that sense of satisfaction in knowing that there is one more tiny piece out of the way, ready to savor now or at the darkest hour of winter.  And savor we shall.

Speaking of savoring, the roses are from my neighbor’s garden (I’ve given up on growing my own – too much work) and smell like heaven.  The binoculars are for bird watching.  I love this little corner of the world!

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Great Granola!

August 17, 2009 in Cooking and Baking, Eating by Colleen | Permalink

Housed in what once was an adult video store (buy four, get one free!), walking distance from our house, is a terrific little restaurant called Toast.  We first patronized out of sheer gratitude that they had made what was once a rather creepy eye sore into something truly neighborhood friendly.  However, we continue to go back out of sheer delight, for what it lacks in size (a mere eight tables and bar) it more than compensates for in charm and quality.  Not only is every dish I’ve ever had there delicious, but they source nearly all of their meat and produce from around the great state of Oregon, much from within a few miles of the restaurant, including a few small plots right in the neighborhood.

To top it off, the people who work there are they type you look for in a neighbor: kind, knowledgeable, friendly, and funny.  Take, for example, my favorite breakfast item, the Hippies Use Front Door Granola, no one without a good funny bone would give a clever tongue-in-cheek name like that, and good golly, is it ever yummy!   It’s crunchy, not too sweet, with lots of nuts – perfect.  Topped with ice-cold milk (or yogurt) and seasonal fruit, it’s a breakfast of champions.

Though this isn’t their recipe, it is the one that makes me just as happy to prepare and eat.  Hopefully you’ll like it, too.

Great Granola!

4 cups rolled oats (not quick cooking)

1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut

2/3 cup chopped almonds

1/3 cup wheat bran

1/4 cup flax seeds

1/2 cup neutral tasting oil (I like sunflower)

1/3 cup honey

1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1/2 teaspoon molasses

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup dried fruit (Optional – I like cherries and diced apricots)

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  Toss the oats, coconut, wheat bran, flax seeds, and almonds together in a large bowl.  Set aside.  Combine the oil, honey, sugar, molasses, vanilla, and salt together in a small bowl.  Stir well to combine.  Pour over the dry ingredients (don’t add the fruit yet).  This is where it gets fun.  Take off any rings, watches, or bracelets, and thoroughly mix with your hands.  Spread the mixture on a large baking sheet.

When you’re done, have a little fun, and lick your fingers.  Place the pan in the oven and bake for 40 minutes, stirring every 8-10 minutes.  Stir in the fruit during the last ten minutes or so.  Added any earlier, it will be really tough and a serious workout for your jaws!  Remove from oven, and allow to cool.  Store in an airtight container.  It will keep for two weeks, but I’ll bet you finish it much sooner.

Enjoy!

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The Brothers Bloom

August 14, 2009 in Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | Permalink

I lead a very privileged life.  The kind that makes me want to shout from the rooftops in ecstatic joy at all I have: a perfect-for-me husband who is as handsome as can be, a great circle family and friends, a lovely home, cute and cuddly cats, and cinematic gems like The Brothers Bloom.

It’s the variety of story that made me fall in love with the art of film making in the first place: beautiful cinematography and that magical combination of wit, suspense, humor, and yearning.  It doesn’t hurt that one of my long-standing movie star crushes, Mark Ruffalo, plays one of the leads, or that people fall in love, either.  I’m a big fan of love, but I think you knew that already.

The Brothers Bloom are con men from way back, childhood, in fact, weaving the quite literary Stephen’s droll tales into brilliant, theatrical cons of world renown.  The problem, as there always is one, is that Bloom, Stephen’s sensitive younger brother, has never liked the game and wants out, for good.  This isn’t the man he wants to be.  Longing to write the story of his own life, he leaves Stephen and their pyrotechnic expert of a side kick Bang Bang to be alone.  They find him months later and convince him to do one last con.

What ensues is a sweet, tender, hilarious, and nail-biting adventure as Stephen, Bloom, and Bang Bang engage the naive and wise hobby-collecting Penelope.  Globe trotting, the story grows more complex and unpredictable, as Bloom falls hard for Penelope, and the brothers are threatened by their former teacher and arch nemesis, The Diamond Dog.  It had me on the edge of my seat, in delight and trepidation, wondering just who was conning whom.

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230

August 13, 2009 in Quoting by Colleen | 1 comment

Whatever the eye sees, the heart will not forget.

Armenian Proverb

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Raining…

August 12, 2009 in Celebrating, Decorating, Gardening + Nature, Receiving by Colleen | Permalink

After what seemed an interminable twenty-eight days without rain, of living in a vastly foreign version of  Portland, the skies finally opened up.  I was watching television yesterday afternoon when I was hit by one of the most glorious scents – the first drops of rain hitting pavement – wafting through the air.  At last!

Thankfully, the the initially fleeting sprinkles were only a preview of what was to come.  As the hubster and I ventured out to the show, as my Grandma Frances would say, to take in The Brothers Bloom (more about that on Friday) on two-for-Tuesday night at our very favorite movie house, The Academy (two movie tickets + popcorn + Reese’s Pieces +  hard cider for the hubster + tip = $16!), the rain began again.   By the time we arrived at the theater, the drops had grown larger, more certain of themselves.

Much to my delight, the rain held steady through the gorgeous film, the tarred roads puddle filled and shimmering with moisture in the evening light.  At bed time, the gentle patter of drops on the tin shed roof lulled me into sweet slumber.  Thankfully, the rain has yet to cease, the sky a radiant combination of sun, cloud, and brilliant blue.  Portland, no longer foreign, is home again.

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