Heatherly

sweet sassy molassey

farm fresh fava beans just arrived at the farmer's market near work. holla.

would you believe me if i said that i've been waiting for this for almost a month now? yes, you would -- y'all know that i am a big nerd.  i recommend you go out get your hands on some ... i've now got two pounds sitting on my desk, destined to become my favorite pasta from frankie's spuntino on court street. (sigh, brooklyn). fresh pasta, garlic, red chile and favas topped with pecorino and toasty bread crumbs? yum.

the only downside is that i'll be watching my beloved red wings in game three of the cup finals tonight, so dinner will have to wait until tomorrow.  until then, wing nuts forever!

proud of you, california court

it's a great day today in california.

now let's the rest of the country get our act together. equal protection is a beautiful thing.

sunday, avec beach and dogs

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.

you can't argue with science, gary bettman

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.

Eat this Bettman. And this.

Now give us our danged octopus-twirling back and go do something useful in that fancy office of yours.

nice.

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.

Do something.

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.

You're going home in a Portland ambulance

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]

Bonus comic coverage of the Timbers Army.

let's go red wings!

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!

greens

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).