she's just saying...

Hello?

Really? No one wants to share their summer card-playing memories? Okay then. Moving on.

slap-happy summer

Note: I'm leaving this post up until I get some responses! Summer memories, people!

Up in our neck of the woods, spring came slowly and haltingly this year. It's always slower than everywhere else in the country, it seems, but this year was the coldest, wettest I remember. Summer finally showed up about July 5, and it's been truly lovely. Not too hot, until last weekend. And then the mosquitoes hatched.

The entire town is complaining - it's the number one comment on Facebook this week.

From our local news station:

Four Rivers Vector Control officials say the mosquitoes are overwhelming this year.

"This year we found that everything we looked at was hatching out all at once," said Four Rivers District Manager Chad Stubblefield. "In some places we even found 500 mosquitoes to a dip cup full of water."

You know it's bad when the westside Safeway (the big one) is SOLD OUT of mosquito spray. Really. The shelf was empty yesterday. I had to get some weird left-over brand. Hope it works.

On another summer note, it's been hot and even muggy with thunder and lightning. So it feels like a perfect time to play cards. Didn't you play cards in the summer growing up? War, Hearts, Rummy, Crazy Eights, I Doubt It, Uno?

Henry and I have different tastes in card games. I like a strategic game like gin rummy and thought he'd enjoy a simplified version of rummy for kids. He likes something called "SWAP!" which involves a lot of switching colors, swapping hands with the other player and slapping the discard pile.

So, we sit around these evenings, slapping mosquitoes and slapping cards, enjoying our Oregon summer and making memories. What are yours?

the old and the new

the evil weed continued

Those of you bored by gardening posts or looking for some anti-marijuana polemic can stop reading now. See you tomorrow.

I continue the good fight against the invader on the homefront. The problem is that, when small and not blooming, the evil one looks like a many other benign plants that are growing happily and innocently in the garden. Bee balm looks almost exactly the same, but there's a quality to the evil one that makes it stand out for me, from even a number of feet away. I can't explain how it's different, but I can sense it. Most of the time.

See?

Bad plant (orange hawkweed): 

Good plant (bee balm):

 

And if I pull up a bunch of balm, oh well. It's kind of invasive as well, but more nicely. OK, back at it. Just me and the mosquitoes.

Sunday morning mowdown

A momentous day today: Henry mowed the lawn.

Not all of it, and not quite in the pattern I would choose, but hey, it's a great start.

I'm beginning to see the possible benefits of this whole kid thing.

This is the effect we're working towards. Maybe next year.

Jicama days

First of all, it's pronounced hee'-ca-ma. Not hick-a-ma, like hiccup. Everyone corrects me but I'm right about this one. Irritating. It's Spanish, people!

Anyway, it's a big root.

I first encountered jicama when we lived in Mexico City during my sixth grade. The jicama man would push his cart down the street, and we'd run out and buy a slice with salt, lime juice and chili powder on it. Now that I think of it, that's a pretty odd thing to sell from a cart, as it's about the easiest thing possible to prepare other than peeling. 

So that's how I prepare it, accompanied by a cerveza, chips and salsa. Perfect on a hot summer night like tonight with the ballgame on.

Friday frylet: the birds

Bob better watch his back...

caps at war

caps, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Here it comes again: the most conflicting baseball series of the year.

This year, it's pretty clear cut: the Bosox must win to keep their (slim) chances alive.

So, sorry, Seattle! Let's not be spoilers! KTHXBAI.

Why I love baseball, part 15

The Baltimore Orioles, the absolute worst team in baseball, really stink. They have a .315 record, which means they've lost so many more games than they've won this year. 29 games won, 63 games lost. Pathetic.

They played the Tampa Bay Rays last night. It went to 10-10 into the thirteen inning, with the Orioles finally winning it very nicely on an RBI from Julio Lugo. (Remember him? Uneven shortstop kicked out by everyone including the Red Sox.)

Anyway, it helps that I'm happy to see Tampa Bay lose, especially on a night when the Yankees and Red Sox lost. But you don't need to care about the standings to enjoy a victory like the Orioles had last night. Whoo hoo! Thirty wins! And it's not even August yet!

Meanwhile, Carl Crawford left the game with a "testicular contusion." Reminds me of a story about my freshman boyfriend in college. After a lovely evening early in our dating relationship, we said goodnight and parted until breakfast. He never showed up the next morning and his roommate told me he ended up in the infirmary late that night with a malady we will not discuss further here. Ouch. Never mind. Back to baseball. Play ball!

Oooh, that Jim Palmer! Now there's an Oriole!

Earning his keep

Everyone has to pull their own weight around here. Henry does a list of daily chores, Flash barks at random possible intruders, the fish entertains with flips and splashes, Muffin preens and cuddles. And Bob -- Bob brings home the bacon. Or robin, in this case.

This is the scene that awaited me when I arrived home from work today. He was even courteous enough to wait to enjoy his catch until the family got home.

(hint: look on the green chair)

Such a good Bob.

a bald eagle kind of evening

For further proof that I'm not always a sloth, Henry and Dana and I loaded up the canoe yesterday at 5 pm and headed to Sparks Lake for an evening picnic. It was a perfect little excursion.

Henry showed off his mad canoeing skillz and Dana and I went along for the ride.

And to top it all off, we watched a bald eagle watching over the lake all evening. 

The drive (26 miles one way) was so lovely that we did it twice, as somebody forgot his water shoes at the boat ramp and we had to go back and get them. We did the math in the car and yes, that was 104 miles. Very peaceful wilderness miles, but still...

Sloth

A quality I wish I had more of is energy. I never feel energetic. I would even categorize myself as leaning to lethargy.

Yesterday I stayed in bed for half the day with a cold, and began to panic that I'd never get my energy back. It's something I worry about.

I have a little trick for reminding myself that in fact, I do accomplish a fair amount. I mentally keep a running list of all the things I've done in a period of time, say, after work or on a weekend. So, before noon today, though feeling sluggish with this cold, I accomplished the following:

• knit two inches on my sweater
• made an omelet for H's breakfast
• made bread dough (though it's so easy it's like cheating)
• made potato salad
• mowed and edged the lawn
• showered, shaved my legs, washed and dried my hair
• tried on several outfits for a work event tomorrow
• cleaned the cat box
• vacuumed the back half of the house
• finished the Sudoku puzzle
• And, bragged, I mean, blogged, about it all.

So I look at that list and it seems like, wow, I'm a dynamo. But I don't feel that way. I feel like this:

Just think if they were healthy

AP photo

Here's a rundown on the ailing Red Sox, who, even with some of their best players out, are tied for the fifth best record in baseball right now.

RED SOX INJURY STATUS

Player	Injury	Unofficial return date
Jacoby Ellsbury	Fractured ribs, strained back	Minimum 3 weeks
Josh Beckett	Strained back	5-10 days
Dustin Pedroia	Fractured bone in foot	2-3 weeks
Clay Buchholz	Strained hamstring	Next week
Manny Delcarmen	Strained forearm	2-3 days
Jeremy Hermida	Fractured ribs	Week to 10 days
Victor Martinez	Fractured thumb	1-2 weeks
Jason Varitek	Fractured bone in foot	2-4 weeks
Jed Lowrie	Mononucleosis	Rehab in Pawtucket
Mike Lowell	Strained hip	Indefinite

Invasion of the dirt snatcher

 It's baaaack! The evil weed has been spreading secretly through the garden beds on the 16th Street side of the homestead. I spent a lovely July evening digging out its minions, which are popping up faster than I can pull them. It's already ruined the woolly thyme bed by the mailbox, as I've had to pretty much pull it all out to save the area. That's starting to really piss me off, as it took a lot of time (and thyme) to establish.

What mystifies me is that the invader lay dormant for so many years, just being that pretty little wildflower in one corner of the driveway, until triggered by some evil plan last summer. Then it just took off and infiltrated the whole block. 

From the Oregon Department of Agriculture site: No approved biocontrol agent currently available for this weed. Orange hawkweed is an “A” listed noxious weed in Oregon, meaning that is very limited in distribution. All known infestations are under intensive management for eradication or containment.

I guess that means me. I'm on it. Intensively.
 

Top 10 Tues: "summer state of mind" edition

How my life does not resemble a Bud Light Lime commercial:

1. I've never sat on a boyfriend's shoulders and played chicken with another girl
2. I've never danced on a beach in a bikini (and I lived at the beach for years!)
3. I refuse to play volleyball, ever since third grade
4. I don't drink Bud Light Lime
5. through 10.  in every other way as well.

S'mores

We've got a thing for s'mores around here. For those of you who never went to scout camp or just arrived on this planet, a s'more is a graham cracker sandwich made with a melting marshmallow and piece of Hershey's chocolate. You're supposed to toast the marshmallow on a stick over coals, but nuking the whole thing in the microwave works in a pinch.

Controversies surround the proper toasting technique. I prefer the perfect golden melting perfection achieved through careful patient toasting. Then there are those philistines who like to immolate their marshmallow into a flaming sugar inferno, which not only tastes burnt but causes cancer. Seriously.

I bought s'more makings for our family gathering last week and we enjoyed watching three 20-somethings turn into 11-yr-olds again along with the actual 11 yr-old in attendance. My cousin Rafe had the toasting technique down - I was quite impressed.

I also learned that it's really hard to shoot a pure white object next to a pure black object with a point-n-shoot camera.

artsy

Weeknight Caesar

One of my go-to meals is Caesar Salad.

(BTW, it's one of my pet irritations to see Caesar spelled wrong on menus. So annoying.)

I've made CS since I was in college and it's always a hit. It's a 10-minute recipe, perfect for the casual-but-impressive spontaneous entertainment meal you want to be known for. So, in the spirit of giving back to my wonderful supportive readers, I'm sharing it here.

(This is actually the classic Caesar recipe - I just explain how to cut corners and make it quick.)

Quick-but-Authentic Caesar Salad

all amounts are approximate - adjust to your taste

• 3-4 anchovies, smashed, or 2 tsp anchovy paste
• 1 coddled egg (see note below)
• 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• juice of 1/2 lemon (or more - I like a lot of lemon)
• 1/2 tsp dijon mustard
• 1tbsp garlic (I use jarred minced)
• salt and pepper

• head of romaine, ripped into bite-size pieces
• 1/2 cup grated parmesan
• croutons (optional)

Place first eight ingredients into a jar and shake hard. Pour over lettuce, add cheese and croutons. Serve with more salt/pepper. Done!

You can top with chicken, shrimp or salmon. 

Note: to coddle an egg: tuck it into bed with a blankie and a cup of tea. Or alternately, boil it for about a minute. When you crack it open, it should be just starting to emulsify - you'll need to mash up the whites a little. If you don't like to eat raw eggs, you could chop a soft-boiled egg, but it won't be the same. Can't help you here.

Note #2: We keep a mouli grater pre-loaded with parmesan in the fridge in a plastic bag. It's always ready to go for fresh grated parmesan.

Family memory: When Doctor Sister was pregnant and living in Princeton and I was in NYC, she'd beg me to come down on the train on the weekend to make Caesar salad to satisfy her anchovy craving. Funny.

blog, lady, blog!

In case you missed it, this comment came in from my friend Sami (regarding Wed. post):

"This kinda makes me sad. You're a mom! A knitter! An employed person! You have daily dramas! I like to think of you growing and learning and having hilarious life experiences to share every day. Please don't stagnate! Write it up and spit it out, lady -- daily!"

Well, OK! I've been told! So I'm back at it. Sami's making me!

Coming up next: a recipe! (the fallback post for domestic bloggers)

Being and Nothingness

I read that book once, in the original French. It meant nothing to me in a foreign language.

I got nothing these days. Nothing going on, nothing on my mind, nothing to post about. Everything that has happened to me this summer I've already written about last year or the year before, and with more energy.

I've entered a state of being, not blogging. Not a bad place, really just one of nothingness. So now what happens to the blog? I could:

1. Scan the blogosphere for popular memes and copy them (unlikely)
2. Develop a clever survey soliciting content ideas from y'all (too much like work)
3. Take a lot of showers (where most of my inspirations hit)
4. Just re-post the good stuff from the last two summers - would anyone notice? 
5. Declare the era of the personal blog over and shut 'er down.

Ideas, anyone? Or have I already lost you all?

youk!

2010 Final Man All-Star MLB.com Ballot

Kevin Youkilis is my Final Vote. (One of 5 players up for the last spot on the 2010 American League All-Star team.) You can vote until Thursday, July 8 @ 4 p.m. ET. Vote now. Brought to you by the shills at MLB and Melissa.

life in the south

Well, hello there, y'all (spoken very slowly). Sorry I've been out of touch - I've been on vacation at my parents' in North Carolina and the outside world has kind of faded away. Maybe it's the humidity, maybe it's the south, maybe it's because I don't have my computer, but I never seem to be able to post from here.

Things move slow here, including me. It's hot and muggy. And even when it's not hot it's muggy. I'm always amazed at the humidity, coming from the high desert. It's like living underwater. Everything is limp. Paper, clothes, cereal, my brain, the cat. With the notable exception of my hair, which is having a party all by itself.

Plus I've been busy. We've been cooking, hanging by the pool, knitting, comparing mosquito bites, making huge pots of food, buying groceries, cooking more food, pulling weeds, discussing dinner, cleaning up after dinner, marveling at loathsome bugs, writing shopping lists, reading, making lunch, watching soccer and tennis, stopping at various farm stands for more vegetables, sewing, going to the supermarket and oh yes, cooking. See? Way too busy to blog.

How does anything ever get done in the south? I'll post after I get home and dry up.