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Lobster Mushrooms with Chorizo and Parmesan Foam

Pulpo

Churros with Hot Chocolate Dipping Sauce

Isn’t it wonderful to have friends?

Last night, I rode my bicycle downtown to meet the hubster for dinner, and, quite likely, our last warm evening ride of the year. We went to Ataula, our new favorite tapas place, which, as it happens, is exactly where our old favorite place used to be, so there was no real need to lament the change, even though I did a little when I saw the space in the midst of renovations.

It is fantastic, with a very knowledgeable and friendly staff, and especially the chef, who personally made sure I got a bathroom key and came to our table while we were eating the lobster mushrooms (from Mt. Hood!) and chorizo with parmesan foam. We were the first to taste it besides him, and he wanted to make sure it was all that.  It really was! And come on, a place with churros and hot chocolate dipping sauce? The height of splendor, peeps, the height! Plus, there was pink bubbly wine and that smile. Jeepers. I am one lucky gal.

More luck in the form of timing. We rode to Chapman just in time to watch the Swifts! It was amazing and awe inspiring. Nature, I am in love with you!

Our route home took us down the Esplanade, where a multitude of like minded runners, walkers, and cyclists in shirtsleeves basked in the warm evening glow, of the moon and buzzing fluorescents. There were photographers with tripods, film makers, one man deep in conversation with Vera, and the awesome hush of reverence that this glorious city inspires. Portland, you are a gem.

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At six this morning, I awoke to dark skies; and later, while outside hanging laundry, a flock of southbound geese skimmed the neighborhood treetops. Change is coming, velvety green grass and skies plum full of drowsy clouds – gunmetal, granite, pearl, with their slow drips, drops, and drizzles. Rain. I love rain, the gleam of light on wet pavement, the gumbo of saturated earth, the sweet tang of sodden leaves. Fall. Winter. Spring. But the all-day dark that chills and creeps under my spirit cloak to weigh me d-o-w-n, that is harder to bear. So I grasp summer with both hands, and we shimmy and spin, skirts fluttering in the golden slant of sun beams. There is raucous laughter, much singing, and the hush of reverence all at once, everything at once: light, whispering wind, parched grass, and lovers holding hands. The last of the blooming flowers, a girl on a scooter, a boy screaming, and me, watching. I am alive. Leaves are falling into fall, summer’s fingertips slipping through mine.

So one last hike before another, I hope: Wahkeena Falls with Bert and Lori (Hi friends!). That’s the biggest slug I’ve ever seen. Then there were the ladies I regret not asking for a picture. A pair of old friends and cute and fit as can be, aged eighty-nine and ninety-two, hiking the trail. I hope that when I am old, I will be as sweet and generous and bright-eyed and have a friend who will hike with me to the falls. Oh! and that fourth picture down, of water with a white stripe? A giant salmon swimming upstream! There were many! The wonder of creation and I witnessed it with my own eyes.

Oh my goodness, how life is good, great, excellent – every single day!

 

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The hubster, in exchange for a dearth of holidays early in the year, gets Fridays off in August, the best of summer sipped like a fine cocktail and making September oh-so-long. We take full advantage on forays near and far. For this final treat, westward-ho to the coast we went, and I fell in love with beach grass, the muted song of fluttering waves and razor sharp points nipping at my bare ankles. Thusly, I renewed my affection for the scent of salt water, roaring sea, and rolling blankets of warm clouds. I also remembered how much I enjoyed the PBS series on Lewis and Clark and decided to revisit it soon.

Marsh’s Free Museum (you probably know why they are famous, but I won’t spoil it with a photo) and the Carousel in Long Beach.

South to Astoria

Trophies and fine burgers (try the Southwestern Portabella!) at Astoria Coffee House & Bistro

Treasures galore at one of the coolest shops ever: Astoria Vintage Hardware

Blue Scorcher Bakery Cafe

Delicious Mochas

Street 14 Coffee

More deliciousness in the form of Almond Pastry

Have a Happy Labor Day!

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We ventured to Eugene yesterday for the Mt. Pisgah Arboretum Wildflower Festival. It was a sweet affair, with booths for selling treats of the edible, garden, and treasure variety. We ate and drank, bought some gifts, and walked the paths to spy as many varieties of wildflower as we could. We saw fourteen in the wild and countless others on educational display, which I wish I had looked at before hiking around, so I would not have gotten quite so close to the poison oak. Thankfully this silly goose only touched the flowers!

That’s Camas pictured above

Columbian Larkspur

This tree was more than 400 years old when it met its demise. The hubster is 6’1″ for reference – the awe of creation!

The Oak Savannah

Wild Hyacinth

Tiny and yellow – I wish I knew the name.

Oregon Iris

Siberian Candyflower

Bracken Fern Fiddleheads

Wild Yellow Pea

Aster

Crab Spider on a Daisy

The hubster teased me for defying the principles of the Prime Directive by knocking the spider off the blossom. Anything for the bees…

Snowberry

Thimbleberry

Cow Parsnip

Straight Beaked Buttercup

Red Columbine

 

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My baby brother visited us this past week. We drove and walked and ate practically ad infinitum.

From Mt. Hood

to Cannon Beach

where we saw barnacles, star fish, sea anemones, a jellyfish, TWO Bald Eagles,

a silent sea captain,

old buildings

and bouys hanging from trees.

We ate seafood, salt water taffy, and fudge.

We saw Ferraris!

They drank beer.

We saw Mt. Adams

and tall trees on Sauvie Island.

And an old advertisement on Fremont.

And chatted late in the evening and early in the morning. And napped and sat under an azure canopy in the back yard.

Life is grand

 

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