Happy Birthentine's Day

Ahh... Valentine's Day. Isn't it sweet? A time to celebrate love. It's a season of flowers and chocolate, of candy and romance, of candles, bubble baths, and expensive dinners.

It's also Oregon's birthday, and this year (2009) is Oregon's 150th birthday, or sesquicentennial for those of you who like big words. I remember Tennessee's 200th birthday, which was in 1996. (Wow, Oregon is a youngster!) I don't remember a whole lot about the Tennessee bicentennial, except that they changed the license plates for a while.

I'm not really all that into history, actually. Honestly, I usually find it pretty boring (especially to read) and so if you fall asleep reading this I'm really sorry. But, how often can you write about a sesquicentennial??!!

Okay, actually, 2009 marks lots of other sesquicentennials. It is also Boulder, Colorado's 150th birthday this year, and the 150th anniversary of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species. Why don't you read some Darwin Awards to celebrate?? (Coincidentally, today would've been Darwin's 200th birthday, as well as Abraham Lincoln's 200th birthday.) Sidenote: Why do people say it "would've been" his 200th birthday? Like, it "would've been" if he had lived an abnormally long time? I don't understand that (even though I just did it myself.) And even though the sesquicentennial anniversary of the Civil War isn't until 2011, the University of Richmond in Virginia is so excited they're just gonna go ahead and start celebrating now. The American Dental Association is also celebrating its 150th year, as is the city of Iola, Kansas. It's also the 150th anniversary of the birth of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (I guess that's how you're supposed to say it, though it is easier to just say "he would've been 150"), and the 150th birthday of America's first zoo - The Philadelphia Zoo. There are actually a lot of others, and I could go on... but I'm kind of bored with it now so I'm sure you are too. The point is a lot of shit was going down in 1859.

During the last paragraph I decided not to write in detail about the history of Oregon's statehood (I mean, seriously, one blog is not enough to cover 150+ years of history, folks.) If you're really interested, check it out for yourself. If you're not really interested I'll give you the highlights: Thomas Jefferson (a.k.a. "TJ") took $2,500 and hired his secretary, Meriwether Lewis (back when secretaries were men) to explore the land the US got from the Louisiana Purchase. Lewis needed some help so he hired a veteran army officer, William Clark to come along and they set out in the spring of 1804. Clark was an experienced surveyor, mapmaker, frontiersman and Indian negotiator so he was well-qualified. (Man, check out those qualifications! I would like to put "mapmaker and frontiersman" on my resume.) They went back to TJ with their reports of the area and how great it was. People gradually started moving west, the Oregon Trail happened, yada yada yada, white people kicked the Native Americans out, Great Britain and the US fought over the territory, blah blah blah, and then Oregon became a state on February 14, 1859.

There are a few really interesting things about Oregon's history, though: for about 90 years (between 1861 and 1951) it was against Oregon law to marry someone of a different race. In 1844, the territory mandated that slavery was illegal, but if there were any "free" slaves lurking around, they had to leave. The largest cities in Oregon (Portland, Salem, Eugene, and Bend) are all extremely liberal, but the rural areas of Oregon are extremely conservative. I, personally, think this political strife makes Oregon a fun and interesting place to live. But some people are not so happy about it. There have been several attempts by some groups to secede from the state.

So, in honor of Oregon's 150th birthday, there are several events going on around town. You can go on a horse drawn elk viewing tour, swim 150 miles, go birding, paddling, or you can attend a spiffy soiree, which currently has 14 confirmed guests on Facebook. Some celebration! But, Seskie the Sasquatch will be there, so it is tempting to go just to meet him in person:



But the thing everyone seems most excited about is the beer. Rogue Brewery has developed a special commemorative brew to celebrate the sesquicentennial. It's a limited edition, so get it while you can. Deschutes is also brewing 2 special beers with 100% Oregon ingredients for the celebration. Hopworks Urban Brewery has also come up with a special IPA, and McMenamins is brewing a special cream ale that will only be served at Saturday's Birthday Bash at the Crystal Ballroom. With all these new beers floating around, I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of beer-drinking going on Saturday night, and not much swimming or romantic dinners.

Vegging Out

So, when I first started this blog, one of my intentions was to write about my goals to become healthier and more active. Aside from my brief excursion into running, I haven't really lived up to this task, especially given this, this, and this. (Not to mention the chocolate pecan pie with bourbon I mentioned here, and the recipe for Mississippi Nilla Mud Cake I mentioned a while back but have been too ashamed to post.) After all, you can take the girl out of the South, but can you take the South out of the girl?

Tennessee was ranked 47th in the list of healthiest states in 2008, and Oregon was 16th. This study takes a lot of things into account, like access to health care coverage, etc. so it's not really a fair comparison. So, I will also quote the American Fitness Index for 2008, which ranks cities according to how active and fit their citizens are. Portland is #7 on the list, Nashville is #23. So, while the cities do rank closer together, there's some obvious room for improvement.

I did not grow up on a healthy diet (don't worry Mom, it's not your fault). I was the world's pickiest eater and have a vivid memory of sitting at our dining room table in the dark after everyone had gone to bed because my mom told me I couldn't get up until I ate all my green beans. I absolutely hated green beans with a passion (and anything else green for that matter) until I was in college when I started eating green beans by the can because it was easy and cheap. (Of course even then, they were boiled on the stove for about 30 minutes with 2 or 3 cubes of beef bouillon, but that's beside the point.) Finally I think my mom gave up and just started making the same 3 or 4 meals every week: Hamburger Helper, Tuna Helper, Salisbury Steaks with gravy and rice, and spaghetti (notice - not many veggies, and certainly nothing fresh.) I refused to even TRY new foods, including salad, and I didn't eat my first salad until Justyn and I were dating and I was 22 years old. (He refused to date a picky eater, lucky for me.)

Now that I live in Oregon, it's easy for me to blame the state I lived in for my sorry diet and lack of exercise, but it's not really fair. The truth is, it's just the way I grew up. I was never particularly active - I didn't play team sports or even competitive sports. I tried gymnastics for a while but it didn't stick, and I really wanted to be a cheerleader but that didn't work out either time I tried. I grew up in Louisiana and we spent most of our time poking around in the creek for crawdads, or fishing, riding our 4-wheelers around in the mud, or pulling each other around in cardboard boxes (yes, we really did that). Anyway, my point is that while Justyn was in Colorado skiing and snowboarding and kayaking, etc., and eating every vegetable his mom could figure out how to cook, I was in Nashville trying to figure out how to make my bangs stand up higher, dancing around my room to Debbie Gibson and spritzing myself with Exlclamation! perfume while the smell of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese wafted down the hallway.

I mentioned around Thanksgiving that Justyn's mom came to visit and that she is an amazing cook. Honestly, she has mad kitchen skills that I never even knew existed. The amazing thing about her is that she can just look in the refrigerator and make up stuff using what is available. I have never been around anyone like that, and it is crazy to watch. I truly think that watching her in the kitchen is equivalent to watching Picasso paint a masterpiece. She made some impressive meals for us while she was here, and so after she left there was a definite void. So, I decided that I could also do these wonderful things. But then we started traveling for the holidays, yada yada, (insert excuse here) and I lost momentum.

Then a few weeks ago, I saw this video by Mark Bittman (the guy who wrote the How to Cook Everything cookbooks) and it blew my mind. Note: This video is long (20 minutes) but it is SO WORTH WATCHING. I'm not going to get into the crazy statistics he mentions... just watch it... PLEASE. My regular readers know I'm a self-professed tree-hugger, and to be honest (and admittedly stupid) I have never linked what I eat with the environment. Soon after I saw this video, I was reading one of the many food blogs I follow, and he started talking about being a "part-time vegetarian". Now, Justyn has always told me I would make a great vegetarian (remember the chicken truck incident)? So when I read this, I thought it was a pretty good idea for me.

Okay, okay, don't get freaked out. I know some of you are thinking now I've really gone off the deep end, and my once-subtle liberal tendencies are now spiraling out of control. And I know that Oregon has a reputation for being "the land of fruits and nuts" where a bunch of granola-eating hippies walk around with no bras and armpit hair, but hear me out. I mean, there are some good, intelligent arguments for doing this: it's cheaper, it's healthier, and it's better for the environment. I mean, seriously, how can you go wrong? It's even got a cool name: flexitarianism. Some would say that "omnivore" pretty much covers it (i.e. one who eats meat AND vegetables), but I think "flexitarian" has a nice ring to it. It shows that you are making a conscious decision to be aware of what you eat, and make a concerted effort to decrease your meat and packaged food consumption.

Then I started looking around and I realized I have four (yes, four) vegetarian cookbooks that I have never so much as cracked the binding on. (They were all gifts from Justyn's family, of course.) So, thinking on these things and realizing I had a pretty amazing arsenal with which to begin my foray into veggie-land, I figured I had no further excuses to put it off. I haven't been keeping track of my exact statistics, but I'm pretty sure in the last 2 weeks, I've eaten meat about 3 times... a pretty strong start, I think! Incidentally, and for those of you who are wondering, Justyn used to be a vegetarian before he moved to Nashville. Now he keeps telling me he wants a big juicy steak. I guess you can't take the South out of the man either, even if he only lived there for 6 years.

What's in a name?

The famous Shakespearean quote goes like this:

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

(Romeo and Juliet, II, ii, 1-2)

So, how did Portland get its name? It's actually an interesting story, even for a non-history buff like me. The spot where Portland rests was first known as a 640 acre spot called "the clearing", the flat area between the banks of the Willamette River and the west hills. It all started with a guy named William Overton (who, coincidentally, was from Tennessee where there are a few schools and a county named after him, among other things). Overton thought "the clearing" had great growth potential due to its proximity to the river and the Pacific Ocean, and the large amount of forests nearby. But, he couldn't afford to file a claim for the land. So, he convinced his friend Asa Lovejoy (from Boston, Mass.) to file the claim (for a whopping 25 cents) and they would share it. Tangent: I know it was only 1843, but the guy didn't have a freaking quarter? Weird.

Later on, Overton sold his share to a guy named Francis W. Pettygrove of Portland, Maine. Pettygrove and Lovejoy both wanted to name the new city after their respective hometowns, so to settle the argument they decided to do a coin toss (best 2 out of 3, in case you're curious). As you can deduce, Pettygrove won the toss and now the famous coin used for this toss is on display by the Oregon Historical Society, and is known as the "Portland Penny." (Seriously, what is it with coins in this story?)

Portland has several nicknames, too. The most common one is "The City of Roses" or "Rose City". This nickname is supposed to have started with a guy named Leo Samuel, who grew roses outside his home. He placed a pair of garden shears outside so random people walking by could cut one of his roses and take for themselves. I guess it was a big hit, and then other people started doing it, and before you know it there were roses all over the place. Portland also has an ideal climate for growing roses, and is home to the International Rose Test Garden which overlooks downtown Portland and Mt. Hood. There is also an annual Portland Rose Festival that started in 1907 and still continues (which I am personally looking forward to in 2009!)

Another nickname for Portland is "Bridgetown" for fairly obvious reasons, if you've ever been here. There are a total of eleven bridges crossing the Willamette and Columbia Rivers, and they're all really cool. One of my blog goals is to visit each one, take some cool pictures, and talk about them a bit. This only shows 7 of them, but you get the idea:


The most bizarre Portland nickname is "PDX" and I personally think this one is much more common (at least locally) than "The City of Roses". PDX, for you outsiders, is the airport code for Portland. No, I'm not kidding. The. Airport. Code. For freak's sake, what a dorky nickname! I mean, I can't imagine if Nashville just suddently started calling itself "BNA". And the thing is, it's kind of out of control. I mean, there are coffee shops, art galleries, clothing stores, bars, medical clinics, magazines, non-profits, car dealerships, craft shops, even schools that use it, for crying out loud. (For real, Portland State University's website is http://www.pdx.edu/). I do not understand it. At all.

Between 1851 and 1879 Portland grew from 800 residents to almost 18,000. During this period of phenomenal growth, people started referring to Portland as "Stumptown". Trees were being cut to make way for roads, and there was not enough manpower to go back and remove the stumps for quite a while. So, residents started painting them white, and would even sometimes use them to cross streets without sinking into the mud. In modern times, people call Portland "Stumptown" as a joke because there is a lack of tall buildings in the downtown area. I haven't heard this one too much, with the exception of Stumptown Coffee which is pretty popular here.

Another, less common nickname for Portland is "Little Beirut", because of the large amount of protesters that came out when the first George Bush would come to town. "Niketown" is another one, because the world headquarters of Nike are located here (not actually in Portland, but close enough to count, I guess.) "Rip City" is another not very common nickname. This one came from a famous Portland Trailblazers game against the LA Lakers where a Portland player ripped the net when shooting a three-pointer. I say it's not very common, but I also don't watch Trailblazer games, so maybe they use it more often.

So, what's in a name? A lot, I think... I just don't know if things would be the same, had Asa Lovejoy won the coin toss and this place was called "Boston, Oregon." What do you think? It's one of those deep, philosophical questions that will probably keep me up at night.

Weather, Schmeather.

As soon as I started telling people I was moving to Portland, everyone was like, "Oh! You'll love it... I've been there!" or "My daughter lives there and she says it's amazing!" But inevitably after these glowing recommendations, there was a short moment of silence, followed by, "But watch out for the rain!" or "But I hear the weather is just awful." or "Make sure you take your parka and galoshes!" I was so worried, that I googled "Portland Weather" before we moved out, and found no shortage of blogs and commentaries on the horrible-ness of Portland's meteorological predicament. One lady even said that the entire winter, the whole city smelled like a wet dog so she decided to move. Yikes! Wet dog is no good.

When we got here and started meeting people, even they made comments about the weather, but it was more like this, "Oh, yeah, the weather is pretty bad. Most people can't handle it." Or, "Yeah, it's rough... new people have a really hard time." After these conversations, Justyn and I were both pretty concerned... asking ourselves, "What on earth have we done?" But luckily we got here during the amazing portion of the weather, so we just put off worrying about it until the end of October, when it was supposed to start getting bad.

October came and went, and then November, and I started wondering what all the fuss was about. It occurred to me that maybe people who live in Portland want outsiders to think it's really rough living here. There has been a huge influx of people moving to Portland, and I think the natives are getting restless. It's a scare tactic. They want people to think they're tough and strong and that they're suffering.

So, I finally called someone's bluff (namely Justyn's brother, who lives in Seattle where the weather really is horrible). I said, "Seriously. You used to call Justyn and say, 'DUDE... I haven't seen the sun in over a month.' I mean, is that really true? Does the sun really not come out at all? Or does it only come out every few days? You can be honest." After some serious stuttering and mumbling, he admitted, "Yeah, I mean, it will come out every now and then, I guess." I proceeded to ask exactly how often, and he said, "maybe once a week, or once every two weeks."

A-HA! The truth comes out! That's not so bad. There were plenty of times in Nashville where it would rain every day for a week. And it kind of sucked, but you knew the sun would come out sooner or later. After this admission, I stopped worrying about it too much. But when it came up in conversation, the natives would say, "Well, it really doesn't get bad until December." Well, it turns out that December brought a snowstorm that dumped almost 19 inches of snow in the Portland metro area, that which the locals have dubbed "Snowpocalypse", a.k.a. "Snowapalooza", a.k.a. "Arctic Blast 2008". And, I suppose I must admit that if it hadn't been so cold, all of that snow would have been rain. But, it wasn't, and that makes it okay. Because snow is wicked cool, and I feel like there isn't enough of it in my life.

Let me take a minute to comment on Portlanders and their ability to handle a winter storm. I was actually looking forward to witnessing their behavior, after living in Nashville for 20 years where the mere prediction of "a few flurries" sends everyone to their local grocery store to buy all the milk and bread they can fit into their carts. (And can I just say how stupid that is? Why on earth would you go buy 2 of the most perishable items that exist when you think you might be socked in for several days? Grab some canned goods, people!) Now that I live in the Pacific Northwest (keyword: NORTH) I thought I would finally see some people who know how to handle driving in inclement weather. But ooohhhhh no. I was so very wrong. Most of you have seen this video, as I did last year when it circulated through email. The locale? You guessed it, Portland. Had I known that, I wouldn't have expected so much from my fellow Oregonians. This video is pretty funny, too, and is from the most recent storm. To make a long story short, the whole city practically shut down, schools closed for over a week (now they're trying to figure out how to make it up), and tire chains were required on all roads, even ones that were cleared. Which explains why the roads in Portland are so bad. To make matters worse, Portland doesn't own any snowplows or salt trucks that I know of. (They don't use salt here, I guess, they use sand and gravel, which is not so fun to drive on and plus the cars in front of you throw little rocks up at your windshield. Oh, and watch out for rogue tire chains. Those sonsabitches are bad news when they come loose at 40 mph.) I heard they had to borrow plows from Washington State to get some of the roads cleared. But, I digress.

In the latest conversation I've had about the weather with a local, she confided in me that the weather really doesn't get bad until January, and now I think I'm beginning to see a pattern. It has been mostly sunny every day this week, and check out the forecast for next week:

That doesn't look like "bad" weather to me. So, I'm making a prediction. The news stations and long-time Portland residents will start saying, "You know, this winter was really mild. Normally it's a lot worse than this." I guess I can see their motivation. The weather is the only complaint I've ever heard that would prevent someone from moving here. And, if they don't have that, what do they have? If they didn't scare people off, I can just imagine how crowded it would be, because everyone really would want to live here. But I will not be fooled. Portlanders are trying to keep a big secret, and I'm not going to be a party to it.

Either that, or they're all just a bunch of sissies descended from the Wicked Witch of the West that think a little rain will melt them into a little green puddle. But, I don't think so. There are way too many dogs in this city for that to be true, and I'm pretty sure she was afraid of dogs.

Home is.... where, again?

They say that home is where the heart is.

... and they also say that home is where you hang your hat. But which is it? And, who are "they" anyway?

For the holidays, Justyn and I went back to Nashville. It was an odd sensation to be a visitor in a place that used to be home. A place, in fact, that until recently I have still referred to as "home." Like, going "back home" for Christmas. But even preparing to leave, something just didn't feel quite right. I mean, I always get a little anxious about traveling even though I like it. So, I rarely "look forward" to any kind of trip or visit.

I saw downtown Nashville from the plane and I felt nothing. Don't get me wrong, I was excited to see friends and family, but I felt strangely distant from the emotion of being back. Of course, part of me was nervous. It's daunting to juggle time with mom, dad & step-mom, brother, best friends, and other friends, and to fit everyone in the space of just one week. But we had made detailed schedule beforehand (did you expect anything less?) so that helped take some pressure off.

My mom is staying in our house (the one we couldn't sell) so it was sort of like being in the twilight zone while we stayed there. But, I found it oddly comforting, though. Although it was a little unsettling to see someone else's stuff in our house, I was glad to see my mom in a nice place. And better her than some other renter that would trash the place or junk it up with a bunch of crap. We had major landlord problems, though, from the moment the plane landed. From a fried water heater to a leaky toilet, and even some autumn leaf cleanup, it definitely ruined my relaxation goal for about half the trip. It makes me glad to live in an apartment. I do not miss owning a home, much to the chagrin of my husband.

I miss my friends the most. I mean, of course I miss my family, too, but they're family so I know they'll come visit me and keep in touch. But friends, they're different. We went to visit some really good "couple-friends" of ours, and it was like we'd never left. It was after midnight and we had been there for almost 8 hours, plus we still had half an hour drive home. But it was still the hardest thing to just get up and say, "Well, guys... I guess we should head out..." Even though we've made some friends here, nothing will ever compare to our friends in Nashville. They're the only people I know that can discuss men who lactate and an Amazonian fish that swims up your pee-hole all in one dinner conversation. I'm not much of a cry-baby, but I did cry after saying goodbye to Amy... and that was the only time.

So I guess the conclusion is that I miss the people in Nashville, but I don't miss Nashville itself much at all. I think that's why I haven't really gotten homesick all that much since we left. We've been in Oregon for 6 months now, and I think I've reached the displacement phase. Because, Portland doesn't really feel like home yet. But Nashville definitely isn't home anymore either.

So, is home where the heart is, or is it where you hang your hat? I guess for me, it's somewhere in between. Like, somewhere in Nebraska.

Oh Christmas Tree (The Green Kind)

I know, I know... here I go again with the trees.

My dad and I always went to a local tree farm and cut down our own tree, going as far back as I can remember. As far as I know, we didn't do it for the experience, really, but more because my dad said that trees sold on lots or in stores were "bad trees" and that as soon as we got one home it would turn brown and lose all of its needles. He would say, "You know sweetheart, they ship those trees from all over the country so by the time they get to those lots you have no idea how long ago they were cut." My dad is all about value, you see. He wants to get his money's worth. My dad and I followed this tradition until I got married, when Justyn and I selected our first tree from Home Depot.

You know by now that I have a thing for trees. I wasn't so sure about the Home Depot thing, because I am my father's daughter, as well as a natural skeptic. But, while looking around at the various sizes and types, a tree that was propped up in the aisle fell on me with no provocation. Seriously, I was the only one there. So, of course, I went to find Justyn, running through each aisle, huffing and puffing, until finally I found him and I said, "Honey!.... (huff and puff)... You'll never believe it!... (huff and puff)... I found our tree!... or actually... (huff and puff)... it found me!!!" And so then I figured, if that tree wanted to be our tree badly enough for it to reach out and grab me, then it must be a good one. And, it was a good tree. It certainly didn't disintegrate 2 days after we got it home. (I tried to find a picture for you, because I do have one somewhere and it's funny because Justyn is wearing a Howard Dean for President t-shirt. No luck, though.)

After that, Justyn and I started buying our trees from a high school tree lot near our house. We figured that was okay, because the money went to the school. But you see, every year, they jacked up their prices. So the first year we got our tree, it was like 45 bucks. Then the next year for the same tree, it was $60. That year, it just so happened that Justyn (who is NOT a football fan) happened to be wearing a Denver Broncos hat that he bought out of necessity to keep his head warm. The guy selling us the tree says, "That'll be $60." Justyn says, "Wow, really? Last year it was only $45." Guy looks at him, sizing him up and noticing the hat, and says, "How 'bout those Broncos?" Justyn made some vague remark, like, "Yeah, how 'bout 'em? I used to live in Denver." (Or something like that having nothing to do with football whatsoever.) The guy says, "Okay, I'll give it to you for $50." Honestly, after that we should have gone elsewhere. But, it was so close to our house. So we kept going. The prices kept creeping up (due to gas prices, they said) and the last year we were there we ended up paying $70 for our tree (they tried to charge us $80).

So, I was actually pretty excited when the season rolled around this year. I know that a lot of the trees sold nationwide come from Oregon, so I was hoping we could get a screaming deal. We went to a little nursery close to our apartment, and scored an awesome tree for only $45!! AND it's taller than our previous trees because we have higher ceilings now than we used to. Granted, it was the first place we went, and we did not shop around at all. In fact, we were driving around the next day and I saw the same kind of trees for only $30. So next year, I know what to look for.

Not only are the trees here less expensive, they are the epitome of every perfect Christmas tree you've ever imagined. Seriously. No Charlie Brown trees here. I remember trying to select a tree in Nashville, and each one had some sort of defect. "That one has a big bald spot on one side." Or, "The top branch is crooked so we won't be able to center the tree topper." Or, "The trunk on that one isn't straight." Or, "That one doesn't have very many needles on it." (I know, I'm picky.) But Oregon trees are different. They're picture perfect, every last one of them. Talk about value! Dad would definitely be proud. See?

Our first Oregon Christmas

So anyway, I have to talk about the environmental impacts of buying a real tree. You see, I've often wondered which is better: to buy a real tree (meaning it gets cut down and has to be replanted) or a fake tree (which means no trees get cut down, but they end up in landfills and have tons of chemicals in them). I decided to do some actual research this year. Here are my results:

Fake trees are generally made of PVC (polyvinyl chloride) which is nasty stuff. It has made its way into a lot of consumer products (from yoga mats to children's toys) and the process they use to make PVC is extremely dirty and bad for the environment. I won't get into all that here, but you should know that most artificial trees contain PVC. Not only that, but apparently lead is used to stabilize some PVC products, hence the label on your fake Christmas tree box warning you against inhaling or eating any bits of lead dust that may fall from the "branches". Doesn't that sound like a bundle of holiday joy? I'll bet that would create some fun Christmas memories for you and yours.

A real tree can be a poor substitute also, if you don't choose wisely and act responsibly. What I'm getting at, is that our Home Depot tree purchase probably wasn't the smartest. It's best if you can get them from a small tree lot or a local grower or farm, like my dad and I used to. You know they'll replant them, and that's important. You should also know that trees are just like any other agricultural product, and can contain insecticides, pesticides, and all that other funky stuff. So if that's important to you, ask about it before you buy.

In addition, after Christmas I see an obscene amount of Christmas trees on the side of the road or in garbage cans. People! You can recycle your tree! We used to take ours to a local park where they would chip them up and use them for mulch or trail building. You can call your city's waste management office to find a recycling center near you, or the Earth911 website has a search tool that can be helpful. Just make sure you take off all your decorations! (Speaking of decorations, have you changed your tree lights to LEDs yet? Do it! They use less electricity, and won't scorch your fingers since they don't get hot!)

So, in my opinion, a real tree is the best way to go if you're smart about it. Make sure you support local,make sure it will get replanted, get pesticide free if you can, and recycle. Of course, if you're really concerned about it, don't get a tree at all. In the interest of full disclosure, that's really the most environmentally responsible thing to do. But, I just can't bring myself to give it up.

There'll be some radio silence from me while I'm traveling, so I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season, fake tree, real tree, or no tree at all.

How I Spent My Thanksgiving

Hi Folks,

Sorry it's been a while. I've had family in town for 2+ weeks and just couldn't find the time. So, here's an update on what I've been doing the past couple of weeks.

My dad came to visit. I love my dad and we have an awesome relationship. But it was a tough week when he was here. You see, my dad is a southern man, through and through. He doesn't like to be out of his comfort zone, and trust me: Portland is definitely out of his comfort zone. The first morning he was here, this is what happened

Dad: "You hungry for breakfast?"
Me: "Sure, I have whole wheat english muffins, eggs, cereal, oatmeal.... what do you feel like?"
Dad: "Actually, I was thinking maybe we could go to Hardee's."
Me: "Hmm.... I don't think we have Hardee's here. Or, I think it's called Carl's Jr. But I'm pretty sure it's the same." (Thinking to myself, that I don't' really know this for sure, because I've never set foot inside a Carl's Jr.)
Dad: "Okay, let's go there."

We get in the car, and find the nearest Carl's Jr., go inside, where my dad proceeds to order biscuits and gravy.

Guy behind the counter: "Sorry, sir, we don't have biscuits and gravy."
Dad: "You don't HAVE biscuits and gravy??"
Guy: "No sir. In fact, we don't have any biscuits."

Panic ensues. Dad starts slowly backing away from the counter with a deer in the headlights look, like... "where the F*** am I?" He looks at me expectantly.

Me: "You want to go somewhere else?"
Dad: "Yeah.... let's go..... somewhere else."

So we walk outside, where I spot a McDonald's across the street. Now, if you know me, you know I don't eat at McDonald's. Like, never. I hate it. It's gross. So, I jokingly say:

Me: "Well, lucky us... there's a McDonald's right across the street!"
Dad: "Cool, let's go there."
Me: [jaw drops] "Uhh.... okay."

So I ate at McDonald's. Yippee.

That's pretty much how the visit went. But, we did have some good talks, and I took him to the coast which was cool. The very next day, Justyn's mom flew in for Thanksgiving. I got one night of a break between, which was much needed.

Justyn's mom is a really cool person. She's really energetic, really intellectual (about most things), and she's super healthy and active. So, it was a nice change from my dad's visit. But, she totally stresses me out. And, since I'm not working and Justyn doesn't have time off, I had to entertain her by myself for THREE days. Ugh. I was NOT looking forward to it. She's the kind of person that needs constant entertainment, so there's a lot of pressure. But, overall, I have to say it was a really good visit. Probably the best I've ever had with her.

Except, of course, for this kind of stuff, which she likes to sprinkle throughout most conversations:

Her: "So, you don't cook much, huh?"
Me: "Yes, actually, I really like to cook."
Her: "Oh, but you don't have dinner ready for Justyn when he comes home from work?"
Me: "No, he doesn't usually like to eat that early."
Her: "Oh, well... he seemed pretty excited about it when I told him we'd have dinner ready for him today."
Me: [speechless]

Then every time she cooked a meal (which was often, and she is an amazing cook), she would look at me and say, "see, cooking doesn't have to take a long time!" Ugh.

And this:

Her: "Do you want to make a pie or anything for the big dinner?"
Me: "Sure, I'd love to. I have a great recipe for Chocolate Pecan Pie with Bourbon."
Her: "Okay, what do you need so we can make a list?"
Me: "I think I have everything except pecans and dark corn syrup."
Her: "Oh..... corn syrup?? That's really bad for you. You shouldn't eat it."
Me: "Yeah, I know, but it only calls for 1/2 cup which isn't bad. Or, do you know of something else I could use as a substitute?"
Her: "No, I don't think so. I guess I shouldn't ask what's in it or I won't eat any."
Me: [speechless]

I made the pie anyway, by the way, and it was delish. Everyone loved it (it was the first one to get depleted). And, I'm pretty sure she was sneaking bites while we were all asleep. Every morning there was a little bit more missing.

About the meal: almost everything was from the farmer's market, including the turkey which was awesome!!! Here's a picture:

Before

After (Yep, that's Justyn carving the turkey!)

Everything was soooo good, especially the turkey. I'll never buy anything but a fresh turkey again. Yum. And, there was enough leftover for me to make white chili so that was great, too!

We had our feast on the day after Thanksgiving due to some schedule issues with some of the family, so on Thanksgiving day we were going to the park (Justyn's step-dad is a professional photographer so we were going to snap some photos). It was really foggy and on the way we passed a huge cemetery that's close to our place. We decided to stop there and I got some really cool pictures:



If you want to see more pictures from the week (including some amazing foggy sunset pictures at the coast), click here.

So, that's it. I spent my Thanksgiving in a cemetery with my in-laws. It was cool. And, I realized how lucky I am. I'm extremely thankful to have the opportunity to go on this journey, and it has been so rewarding for me. I'm so fortunate to have a great family (by blood and by marriage). I'm happier and healthier than I've ever been, and for that I am grateful.

I miss my family, though. I'm glad I'm coming home for Christmas.

Other things that happened over Thanksgiving: I became a volunteer leader with a local non-profit, I was on the local news (twice!) for my volunteer work, and I had a job interview that went really well.