in honor of the return of the sunshine (and my successfully making it through my first week back at work) we packed up the dogs sunday morning, found ourselves some sausage biscuits to sustain us through our long travels, and headed out to cannon beach.
much running, splashing, picnicking, fetching, ball chasing, and getting soaked on the beach later, it was a pretty great afternoon. throw in a stop at the local ice cream shop, and you've got yourself a sunday.
Gary Bettman, the commissioner of the NHL, recently issued a league rule intended to stop the twirling of octopi at Red Wings games. While popular conspiracy theory holds that this was a crap stunt instigated by the crybabies over at the Anaheim Ducks, Bettman attempted to justify the garbage rule by claiming that bits of octopus might fly off of any twirling cephalopod and muck up the surface of the ice.
While many Red Wings fans reacted to the news with shock, horror, and google searches for Bettman's office address so we might fed ex him some stanky octopus in protest, other intrepid souls strapped on their scientist hats and broke out the empirical evidence.
Now give us our danged octopus-twirling back and go do something useful in that fancy office of yours.
oh, springtime dinners outside on the deck, i love you.
(notice the dinner-snatcher hiding under the table?)
do you see me now? that's my linus - ever so well behaved.
and a gratuitous puppy shot, just because she's so damn cute.
In high school & college, Earth Day was an excuse for celebration; a call for a party, even if that party featured vegetarian food and hippie bluegrass bands. It was an excuse to skip class, buy unbleached cotton greenpeace t-shirts, make crafts out of recycled paper, and play outside enjoying the spring weather. At one point, I remember planning an event and congratulating ourselves for relying on a keg of beer (with reusable cups, natch), rather than creating the waste involved in bottles and cans.
Ever since, I've had trouble really taking Earth Day seriously. But this year, I'd like to change that. Because, honestly, I care about the environment. Very much. And frankly, if I could find a way to force you to care, too, I probably would. Because global warming is scary as hell, sure, but also because I care the safety and sustainability of our food supply, the cleanliness of our waterways, the health of our forests. It's a whole package we've got here, people, and even if you think you're too small to take on global warming, you can sure as hell make a difference when it comes to the cubic feet of landfill space you're taking up on a weekly basis, the unholy number of plastic bags you receive in a week, the corporations you support with your purchases, etc.
The New York Times magazine this past weekend offered any number of things individuals can do to make their own small impact. K and I got our vegetable garden in the ground already, and made the switch to totebags in lieu of paper or plastic last year. So, the plan now is to get my act together with CFL lightbulbs for the house, stop using the car for small trips I could easily do on foot or on my bike, continue cutting down the amount of meat I eat (and rely on local farmers for the stuff I do eat so I'm not supporting CAFOs) and start collecting some of the waste water from the kitchen (from washing veggies, for example) to use for watering the garden. Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that really puts the hurt on. But all things that require me to think a little in advance, and go through parts of my day a little more attentively.
I often avoid talking about environmentalism with people, because it's easy to sound like I've gotten up on my high horse and gone the holier than thou route. I hope I've avoided doing that here. But that said, I also hope that I've helped give at least one person reading this a little kick in the ass to green up their life just a bit.
p.s. I know I haven't put all this forward in the most eloquent or persuasive way. But Michael Pollan - admittedly, one of my idols - did a much better job in this column for the Times.
My current favorite string of commercials ends with the tagline "Hockey fans aren't like regular fans." The implication being that we're rowdy, we're bawdy, and we've probably practiced yanking an opponent's jersey over his her head to better incapacitate them mid-brawl. The commercial also -- correctly -- assumes that we think very highly of ourselves and our all-out lunatic fanhood. I think the same can be fairly said about soccer fans. 
Last night found K and I at the season home opener of the PTFC - the Portland Timbers Football Club. My friends, the PTFC fans are amazing. Based on the longing looks in his eyes, I'm pretty sure that K has found his calling as a future member of the Timbers Army - the massive fan cheering section that lodges itself in section 107 of the stadium. Unlike most American soccer fans, the TA is sizeable, serious, and well organized. Their songs are smashing, and their devotion complete. For those of us on the World-Cup-in-2010 South-Africa-or-Bust bus (you know who you are), I think we should ransack and adapt the TA songs for the US national team, so we have something other than "America ... fuck yeah" in our repertoire. (Most of the chants can be found here).
Although the Timbers won last night, it was on a bittersweet note. Last night was the last game for Timber Jim, the Timbers' Icon and spiritual captain of the team. Timber Jim is an actual lumberjack in his mid-fifties who leads every game with backflips and a massive drum, who wields a functional chainsaw, periodically rapels from the stadium rafters, scales an 80-foot pool, and cuts slabs off a massive log to celebrate each goal scored by the Timbers. In short, Timber Jim is awesome; the ultimate soccer fan. 
[That's a very real, very functioning chain saw. TImber Jim does not mess around with props.]
[Timber Jim's timber making its way onto the pitch.]
[The Timbers Army hearts Timber Jim]
the red wings' playoff series starts tonight kids.
time to hit the greek fishmonger, stretch out your throwing arm, break out your favorite octopus prep recipe, and smuggle that bad boy into the joe, and al sobotka's waiting hands.
the ny times has even graciously put together a how-to manual for your first timers.
Frank Brown, the [NHL's] vice president for media relations, said: “Every so often, an octopus slips out of someone’s hands, and Al is right there to take care of the matter. And he cannot be blamed if, as it tries to break free from Al’s grasp, the octopus lifts Al’s arm and twirls itself in the air.”
let's go wings!
thanks for all the love for ursula. as you might imagine, we're pretty smitten with the newest member of our little pack.
although the weather in portland has kept us on our toes lately (something about the coldest weather ever recorded this late in the year, complete with periodic bouts of snow and hail in between sunny 60-degree days), we capitalized on the nicer weather this weekend and made it out to the opening day of the massive farmers' market at the PSU campus. much like opening day at yankee stadium, it was clearly the place to be on saturday, though, unlike the former, the market had significantly more in the way of artisan cheese, and far less in the way of steroids (we like our meat hormone free, thank you very much). there aren't many vegetables to be had yet, but we found fantastic fresh tamales, cheese, and a saintly man who is willing to sell me a pig - whole or half, my call. my friends, homecured sausages and bacon, here we come.
on sunday, we packed linus off to forest park for a five mile walk in the woods. one of my favorite things about this part of oregon is the number of shades of green that color everything around you. we finished off the weekend a very muddy, happy trio.
(all of these pictures get bigger if you click the thumbnail).
three month old SBP* looking for family to play with and chew on. must have puppy sized laps, sunny yard, snacks, and ample bare skin for licking. older dog to torment a plus. interested? contact the oregon humane society and ask for ursula.
Update: Taken.
meet the newest member of the family ... 
she's a bouncing baby pit bull - full of puppy spazzmatazz, and the
ability to fall asleep (preferably in your lap) at a moment's notice.
linus will tell you that's she's pretty put out by the appearance of this interloper, but after a couple of days of watching them together, i think they''ll manage to do just fine ...
i wasn't going to go all hard-sell on you guys. i figured i'd throw some pretty beach pictures in an entry from the middle of march, and sprinkle some fun portland facts in here and there, and let y'all figure out for yourselves how perfectly great this place is, because -- as k earnestly told me whilst coming in the front door after walking home from work on friday -- "dude! we moved to utopia!" he was excited about the nice weather and nascent sunset just starting to light up the west hills and reflect off the waters of the river. i was excited about the trees and gardens bursting into bloom everywhere, and the fact that cari had just dropped off a fresh-from-the-oven challah. [sidebar: lisa, you need to come visit and stalk cari for her recipe. this challah kicked the crap out of the very best squishy challahs challot we scrounged out of UFM for shabbat dinners in college.]
on saturday, we took advantage of an incredibly warm sunny day and got the garden beds mostly in. to keep marauding cats out of the vegetable bed, we're going to lay chicken wire over the soil, and we put in a conestoga wagon-style dome of mesh over top. tres oregon trail, no?
we also put in a rectangular bed to house the asparagus patch. this was my job, until i was ousted by the boy for failing to install garden pavers with the precision required by the task. take a close look at the picture there -- by his left hand, on the brick -- do you see the level? clearly that boy missed his calling as an engineer. he puts my type-A virgo perfectionism to shame. because there is no chance i would have broken out the level for one of those pavers, much less all thirty-odd stones. that said, the finished garden bed looks beautiful, and much sturdier than the version i was installing.
all of the neighbors seemed to be outside playing on saturday, including the neighborhood chickens.
i found these ladies going for a stroll along the sidewalk.
sunday brought with it a cold rain, which ultimately killed our plans to go hiking in the columbia river gorge. instead, we took a pretty drive up the gorge, hoping that the rain would break, and, when it didn't, came home to pick up the fixins for an easter feast. we didn't manage to do the damage we inflicted last easter when, aided by thirty or so of our favorite people, we laid waste to a smorgasboard of food and a couple of cases of wine, but we did well by ourselves nonetheless. local lamb with a dijon mustard crust, mashed potatoes, field greens and strawberry salad, lacinato kale sauteed with shallots and balsamic vinegar, and a strawberry rhubarb crumble to make sure that we stuffed ourselves silly. it was delish.
happy spring, all!
xo - h.
we made it. a week and just over three thousand miles after we set out from brooklyn in our uhaul, boy, girl, and heavily-sedated dog pulled up to our new home in portland. the drive went about as well as could be hoped, given that we were piloting a uhaul across the northern half of the country in winter (white out conditions in wyoming, anyone?), but portland was a welcome sight when we finally pulled into town. an even more welcome sight was cari out on the sidewalk as we pulled up to park. yay neighbors!
we've officially been here two weeks now (this post has been delayed until the arrival of the cable/internet guy this morning) and i'm liking our move to utopia. the house is great, the neighbors friendly and the neighborhood cats abundant. the latter like to park themselves on our porch, tempting linus through the front windows. she's in heaven. k and i have been largely focused on the mundane - unpacking, organizing, dealing with utilities, etc. - but we managed to load up the car last weekend for a trip to the coast. after letting linus run her little heart out on cannon beach and a pair of tillamook creamery ice cream cones, we hit the state park for a hike along the oceanside cliffs. the fact that all of this good stuff was an hour's drive from home was the perfect reminder of why we moved here. we're all still missing the good friends and good things left behind in nyc, but we're also incredibly excited to keep exploring here and transition into making portland truly home.
*all photos from our day at cannon beach. click on the thumbnail for big pics...
