A kickstarter that makes my toes curl ;)

Dancin'!
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/925236626/modsock-extraordinary-socks

Our friends at Modsock are starting a line of locally designed socks. They are close but it is the final week.

I do! And she does, too.

Dancin'!
Last Sunday Cate and I got married. The ceremony went off mostly smoothly and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. There are plenty of photos and I will share soon.

Hot days, brown skin...

Dancin'!
I wish there was more beach in this post but sadly it is the softening blacktop and the reflective metal of the car lot I now call the workplace.

There is one heck of a farmer's tan I got going on. No tank tops or sandals in the workplace so no, "tiger feet" this year, either. I try to take my lunch break at the nearby creek, but some days, even a legally mandated rest period seems impossible.

I had an eye exam the weekend before last, a bright, shiny Saturday and I found out I have dry eyes.I have to up my intake of Omega-3*, drink more water, and use artificial tears to help with the irritation. I know it is good to be preventative, but geez, for some reason all this shit makes me feel old.

Most days I arrive at work mid-morning and even with SPF 30 I can feel the creeping heat burn a spot on my neck just above the collar of my t-shirt. That is a summer sensation I could do without.


*I'm already taking fish oil for the heart stuff. I should be downright glossy in a few weeks

Less than three weeks to go...

Dancin'!
To what?
Let me tell you. I have been engaged for the last two years to a lovely girl named Cate. Lots of planning is coming down to the wire.

She proposed to me atop Mount Constitution on Orcas Island. The long hike to the top proved I was physically fit.

One year ago, almost, we had a handfasting in Whatcom Falls Park. That was our official engagement party.

On July 28th we will tie the knot (literally, in our handfasting ribbons) down at Hillcrest Lodge and Japanese Garden
http://www.mountvernonwa.gov/facilities/Facility/Details/4

There is an unintentional thread running through our events of the buildings being built in the 1930's. Old timey goodness and quality construction,

I was stalking my ghost over the previous years on here and while I do not miss the loneliness of that fellow, I miss his voice, his eyes, and the engagement in the community at large.

This cold, drafty life...

Dancin'!
I wore my snow boots into work as they are the most waterproof footwear I own. My feet aren't soaked but are partially immobilized and heavy. My rain pants are starting to reflect my own personal humidity and that's a little uncomfortable.

At five thirty it is very dark so the wash bay I jokingly refer to as mine is useless. The only light in the space is mounted high in a corner and partially blocked by a large wedge used this summer during the Dog Days event and stuffed up there afterwards. The next two and a half hours are going to be spent loitering andr looking busy on the off chance somebody actually walks all the way back here. I will be outdoors or in my unheated tin wash tunnel during this time.

The water on the cars has officially frozen now. I do not want to be out in this weather. I should not be out in this weather, I am older and I did have a heart attack not all that long ago.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

100 Cups of Coffee

Dancin'!
Cup number five... (filled with regret)
Well if I count the total for today this is probably four. Three at home, a siteen ounce hazlenut mocha out. I will need actual food soon as I can feel the shakes welling up in my body.

I miss the immunity I built up over the years slinging 'spro. I miss slinging espresso in general. I haven't been happy at a job for like three, four years. The current job leaves me unstimulated and unhappy. 

Sunday...

Dancin'!
So I was walking home from the grocery store yesterday and was detoured by a red, Estate Sale sign. Estate sales are both interesting to me, and sad. These are usually held in the homes of older folks so I am on the lookout for pipes (& pipe stuff), watches, pocketknives and the other accessories of manliness. But then I start to thinking these things are the remains of a life built together over the years. Dinners, Christmases, good days, bad days, countless cups of coffee...In my head I know these are now just things, the meanings and importance was removed with the passing of the previous owners but it still messes me up a little. I tread softly and head out. The ghosts are new here.

I look our apartment and I can remember the stories behind many of my things. The sunny day I bought, Comics, Comix, & Graphic Novels from Village Books with my book club discount, the red couch I liked when Cathy Lehman brought it to Magnolia Court, how I joked with her about leaving it behind when she moved out and later when I bought it from her when she lived just a few doors down from where I'm living now.. I will take the meaning and the stories of these things with me when I go and the only value these things will have is when they are weighed in the marketplace.

But anyway, the rest of the walk home was under a diffused sun, listening to the sounds of a neighborhood responding to spring. One yard I caught a glimpse of had some upturned earth and a big shade tree and all I wanted was some army men and some Tonka trucks (old school-dangerous metal type) and an hour to be a kid again.

100 Cups of coffee

Dancin'!
Cup number four... A pour-over of The Darkness from Maniac
I cannot remember my first taste of coffee but the smell of brewing coffee in my folks' kitchen was a constant in my earliest of days. The first coffee maker I remember was a white Corningware percolator with blue cornflower design on the side. The black cord ran from the base of the pot, off the kitchen counter and back up to the outlet. The metal guts of the percolator had a chocolatey brown patina from years of service. The brew basket often didn't contain the grounds within so the last cup had the added feature of texture in your drink. The wafting aroma of coffee being made was my wake up. 

In those early years it was a cup of that brew and a Lucky Strike or a Camel to get my dad up to speed. And something similar for my mom as well. The pot was emptied and refilled all day long, more often on the weekends when both parents were home. While I have a collection of travel mugs and a supply of coffee vessels I rotate through during the week, my parents had, at most two mugs they used, the rest, hanging from the curled branches of a metal tree, were for guests.

During our vacations in the national parks or on our trips south, I remember I used to like drinking water from my dad's coffee mug. Cold mountain water in a ceramic mug stained with the memory of hundreds and hundreds of cups of Folgers is a favorite sensory memory. There's a photo tucked away of me and one of the Charlies (a cat) at a camp table in Northern California with that mug.

While I liked the hint of old coffee in my water, I found the actual taste of coffee to be harsh and bitter, nothing at all like the smell of the grounds in the big can. I could never get a good answer as to why there was such a difference*...

At some point in my teens, while on a trip into the mountains to play in the snow I started having an annual cup just to fit in with my friends who were themselves full-fledged coffee drinkers. I felt out of place, behind them, a kid among adults if you will, for having a hot chocolate. I had my one cup for the year and cup was loaded with cream and sugar and cooled on the table while I nursed it after a day of inner tubing in the snow, 

*another story another time

100 Cups of coffee

Dancin'!
Cup number three...
I like taking coffee at home. Granted, with french press and/or pour over brewing it's not in my hands immediately and it's another few items to wash (and I think I have stated my dislike of dish-washing on more than one occasion) but I get to stay home. I don't have to get dressed beyond a robe if I want to enjoy my coffee in the sun. There is no line. There's no unfortunate music selection... I can put Kahlua in my cup if I want. Or chocolate vodka or nothing or anything and there is no disapproving sniff at my selection.

The times of day when the sun is close to the horizon are my favorites. And while I can have coffee in the evening without upending my sleep schedule, I prefer my brew in the earlier part of the day.

Cup number three is The Darkness blend from Maniac via the Markets. I have doctored it with cream and sugar* and set it on the railing next to the chard. It is a beautiful spring morning and the porch is erupting in the green. My little maple seems to have acquired some leaf-chomping bugs that I will have have to find a remedy for. The veggies and herbs are flourishing in their pots.

It took me years but I understand the importance of the morning cup at home. Transition, ignition... The jump start whether it's a day of work, play, or chores. 

Today is a day of chores. I have been feeling out of sorts lately and let the housework slide. But there is still some java left so I should probably take care of that.



*don't judge me!