I know that I complain a lot about being stuck in a small town when I'd rather be living in the city. It just so happens, though, that my particular small town is one of the most gorgeous places I've ever been. From the deck of the new Northwest Maritime Center, you can see both Mt. Rainier and Mt. Baker when the conditions are right (like this morning). That's hard to beat for sheer scenic magnificence.
There are lots of smaller beauties to be found as well.
So while I jet off to a far away city and get my urban fix, I leave you with a link to a blog by a local photographer who captures all the gorgeousness here very well indeed: please enjoy My Port Townsend. And keep in mind that most people here think I am absolutely nuts for even thinking of the city when this is my home.
While we're talking about Minneapolis, I think I ought to mention that the song "Minneapolis" by Lucinda Williams has to be the saddest song ever, by a woman known for writing sad songs.
My sister, due to a quirk of her profession, maintains two households. Sadly, they are both far away, but they do happen to be in places that are interesting to visit. One of those places involves donning strange clothes and walking around like this:
But the other place is somewhat less exotic. Although there is abundant water, I'm willing to bet that nobody ever goes snorkeling there, especially not in November. But I am going there in 48 hours, and I'm very excited. I'm on my way to Minneapolis.
I kind of get a look when I tell people how enthused I am about my upcoming trip to the midwest in November. What they forget is that I am a city girl down to my bones, and I'm in small town exile, so the thought of going to any city, especially one with interestingmuseums and lots of fun restaurants sounds like heaven. Plus, I get to hang out with my cool sister. After much research, she even found the place to go for coffee (which happens to be in St. Paul).
I got some lovely birthday presents this year. One of which was a plane ticket, which has to be the best kind of present. While I busy myself at work and home getting things settled so I can use said plane ticket later this week, I would like to share another one of my presents.
A co-worker surprised me with three bars of soap, each wrapped in heavy botanical-themed paper. This was my favorite design: bold and colorful, yet not too fussy. On a side note, is that really how you spell "pomegranate"?
Hijo knew from the start that he wanted to go headless for Halloween. He had some ideas about how to do it, but I confess that I wasn't so sure we could pull it off. About half our linen closet is stuffed into the shoulders of that jacket. There was much experimenting on my part, including some ill-conceived attempts at cutting up cardboard boxes to use as support. In the end, simple was best. I think the ordinariness of the rest of the outfit adds to the surprise of not seeing a head where one should be.
There was a perfect Halloween sky: the moon was large and bright and the clouds scudded across it like ships in the wind. The costume was a big hit and Hijo enjoyed the attention as much as the candy. When we got home he promptly sat on his bedroom floor and sorted everything into little piles based on type. Almond joys here, Starbursts there, Milky Ways there, etc. This behavior baffles me, as I had no desire to organize or sort or do anything with my Halloween loot as a kid except to scarf it all up, and quickly.
For Hijo, knowing he has it is almost as much fun as eating it. He hasn't even asked to have any for breakfast.