Dinner anyone? (hint - read Aug. Seattle Mag)

Carl and Tania's Wenatchee Wedding Celebration

Stories with Pictures

Hello out there.... So - I haven't posted in a long time, and I have been playing around with the idea that I would make this a picture blog. I have wanted it to have a theme and I also want to keep working on my photography skills so there ya go. I am going to try and post only a title and let the pictures tell the story all on their own. I am a pretty talky person so this will be its own challenge. We'll see how it goes. First post coming up.

So... my cat's officially a teenager

As many of you know, I have occasionally been noted as a neurotic pet owner. In the first couple years of owning a cat, my approach went like this - since my cat cannot talk to me and tell me what's wrong, if any little thing goes wrong I better take him to the vet so she can tell me what's wrong. Well, after a few drop $100 visits to find out nothing much was wrong (I even took him to the pet emergency room once because I was sure he was going blind), I finally stopped running to the vet every time he sneezed. However, I did create a bit of a princely cat (as seen in this pic).

Well, I have been traveling a lot for work (I am determined to write more about that later) and Hope has not exactly been a happy cat about this. Carolyn and Stephen have been great, friendly pet sitters, but sometimes he just gets mad about me being gone and he gets a raging rash to make sure it's clear to me that he is peeved. I have been really good - REALLY - and I let him have this little skin irritation and let it heal with no vet visits. Well, I decided to take today off and he has had a really bad "rash" near his mouth that refuses to go away and I couldn't help myself and I took him to the vet. Guess what. He doesn't have a rash at all! He has PET ACNE. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I have acne medicine for him and I am supposed to wash his face every few days to make sure his and yes I quote "skin stays clear". My cat is a full on teenager. What's next, will he come home dunk and break a chair on his way up to his room?

the Damn Garage Door

My condo is above the garage door and when it opens and closes, there is this low hum that can be heard in my condo. Today, I was out all day shopping and hanging out with J and when I got home, the garage door was going up and down. This in and of itself is not that crazy but I got home 2 hours ago and it has been going up and down continually since I got here!

hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(3.4 seconds)
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(3.4 seconds)
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(3.4 seconds)
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(10 seconds - is it done???)
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
NOPE!!!!!!!!!!
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I think I am going insane. This hum is all I can hear.... oh, let it go away, away, away!

Christmas on Brentwood Road

This is my 34th Christmas on Brentwood Road. It will be my last one here. I thought this would make me very sad, but so far it has been relaxing, fun and somewhat nostalgic. It all took a turn for me a few days ago when my mom and I were decorating the Christmas tree. We had these god-awful brightly colored, 1970's christmas ornaments (you know - the kind that are gold with a bright red spot on them) and every year, I attempt to get my mom not to use them. And every year, she tells me we have to because they remind her of when I was young and she and my dad bought the fake tree at Sears a week before Christmas and all Sears had was this one tree left and they had to undecorate it and pack it up to take it home and re-decorate it. All the while, yours truly, a two-year old who was loving to run was making tracks all over Sears while they attempted this. So every year, I try to remind my mom that I am still young and if we can get new ornaments, I would be happy to run around Sears to remind her of that day in 1974. She laughs and makes me put these god awful things up.

So -- this year, we open the box and for some very fortunate reason (at least for me, my mother was devastated with our discovery at first), the damn things are completely rusted and chipped. THANK YOU moist cellar! I finally convinced my mother that it was time to get some new ornaments and let these go out with the trash. She reluctantly agreed. Once this task was done, we put up all the gifts, six kid made, your the best grandma ornaments we have and I thought our tree was looking pretty great. My mother however, was mortified and said that our tree looked and I quote, "naked". Mind you, we had over 100 ornaments on the tree.

We sat looking at it, me very satisfied, her not so much, and I told her a story about my friend J in Seattle who collects ornaments.... I might even say she is obsessed with collecting ornaments. In fact, I said, we only put about half of J's ornaments on her tree when we decorated it a few weeks ago. My mother told me she wished J was not on the other side of the country because our naked tree needed some ornaments.

Let's just buy some I said. This was a novel idea to my mom - we hadn't bought any ornaments since that day in 1974 at Sears so she wasn't exactly sure how we should go about this. I suggested a ride out to Concord -- which if you are not familiar with Massachusetts history is where the famed "the British are coming" bit occurred -- and where now we have lovely boutiques and shops. So, we took a ride out to Concord and we bought about 35 beautiful ornaments (i even bought one for J but don't tell her), and when we got home we put them up on the real tree (the fake one having gone in the dumpster with the rest of 40 years of stuff) and last night my mom and I felt very happy.

As we sat there looking at the tree I thought to myself, see, we can make new memories and get past the old things that we held dear and it can still be great and it can still be home. So, for now, the tree is beautiful, and my mom is healthy and that's all that matters.

Traveling with a Cat

Monday night I am taking the red eye to Boston for the Thanksgiving. I am taking Hope the Cat along with me. He will have an extended holiday there, being spoiled by my Mom through Christmas. Now, about an hour ago, this whole traveling with a cat scenario started to make me panic. Here's what I picture:

1. He jumps away from me as we go through security and I have to chase him around the airport.
2. He meows all the way from Seattle to Boston and the lady seated next to me bonks his case to make him be quiet.
3. He pees in his case and smells up the entire airplane.
4. He gets another blasted bald spot from the stress.

I love this little tyke and I just want this 10 hours that he has to spend in his cat case to be stress free for both of us. Maybe everything will be ok and we will just settle in and watch our Jetblue TV all the way home.

Sunday Morning at Café Septieme

For the last eleven years, Sunday mornings have meant sitting with a book to read, some eggs, and some coffee for hours on end at the Café Septieme. This particular restaurant has always been popular but not too popular so no one ever minded if I stayed for a couple hours. They would keep coming by to refill my coffee and if it slowed down, the nice waiter that I got to know would stop by and ask me about my book. I love this restaurant. Despite my friends that pick on it because they say the service is a bit snooty and the restaurant just seems a little full of itself. I love it. It has dark red walls and mirrors and they rotate local artists work on their walls. I love it because Capitol Hill was my neighborhood for 10 years and this was my neighborhood restaurant. I am a creature of habit and let’s just say that I have seen my fair share of Sunday mornings looking out on Broadway from Café Septieme.

Ok, so now we have the background. And from my other posts, I think it’s clear that there has been a lot of change over the last year. Last weekend, I was feeling this sense of change swirling around a lot and so I decided to drive up to Capitol Hill and have breakfast at Café Septieme. I brought my book. It was raining outside. A perfect Sunday morning.

I got there and it was packed. My favorite waiter is still there but he was working the smoking section and I can’t stand that (it will finally be going away from Seattle!) so I sat on the other side. I had some new waiter. I ordered my breakfast without opening the menu. I opened my book and waited for my bowl of café au lait to arrive. It was delightful. My breakfast was good. I was managing my coffee consumption so as not to overdue it and I was just starting to relax when this new waiter came over and asked me if I was planning to head out soon. You see all the tables were full and “what if someone comes in and wants one”. I AM SORRY? WHAT IF….. Well, I was very gracious and I paid my bill and just as I was leaving another table emptied out -- so now they had room for two tables of what ifs. When I got in my car and closed the door, my face wet with rain, I felt very quiet and also somewhat content. I guess if everything is changing and it’s time to shake it up, it might as well reach all the way to my favorite neighborhood restaurant.