Something to drink?

I am developing a discerning attitude towards coffee. I was drawn to it late in life, mostly through paper cup envy and not the drink itself. In Iowa I would show up for class sheepishly holding a water bottle while everyone else held a steaming cup/mug of "something much more chic." Momentarily casting aside all thoughts for my health and the environment, I decided to trade in my morning water for a small cup of joe from the Java House. What better to go with yet another round of Bach recits and Marie's home baked goodies? After a couple of days I realized I had clearly been missing out. I soon discovered my favorite blends of brew (no espresso in the morning for me, thank you) and learned to take it without sugar or cream.

Now I live in the coffee capital of America, and my taste is becoming more refined. I still won't drink Starbucks home brew. I agree with my mother-in-law in that it is too brackish. My current favorite is the daily blend served by Forza, a South Sound local chain. Forza serves me well for both its dark, smoky coffee and fine dissertation-writing environment, complete with fireplace and cheesy-sounding-but-actually-quite-classy indoor Italian fountain. I also recently discovered the best cup of espresso known to man at Tacoma's new Satellite Coffee. I swear I have never tasted anything so smooth, and without the odd Teriyaki taste that accompanies the so-called best espresso served at Blackwater Cafe. (I should add that I also don't have the necessary prerequisite number of tattoos to allow me entering Blackwater without a significant turning-of-heads in my direction...) My environmental sensibilities have returned from that momentary lapse in Iowa, and I generally drink at home or at the cafe out of a mug rather than the paper cup. (Tully's has started serving coffee in 100% compostable cups--hurrah for the crunchy Northwest!)

As my dissertating becomes more intense I look forward to my coffee more and more. Not for the caffeine--truly, as I generally do half-and-half or entirely decaf post-noon--but for the comforting taste. Or is it for the fact that preparing a perfect cup requires a significant break from translating old Flemish at my computer? I must boil the water, grind the beans, locate the perfect biscuit, open the mail, admire my Christmas tree, read another chapter in my non-Peter Philips book, and, oh, what time in dinner? Better get that started ...

Long Autumn

The subtly changing seasons in the Pacific Northwest are starting to feel normal. September days alternated between what I heard as called "extreme summer"--sunny and temps in the upper 70s--and "nearly winter"--cloudy and temps in the 50s. The leaves started to change then, and now, at the end of October, they seems to be in no rush to finish up. Many trees are still green, many are bare, and many still cling to brightly-colored-but-increasingly-soggy leaves. The long season (and the fact that the majority of our trees are evergreens) prevents us from having the spectacular display of colors I remember so well from three years in New England, but we do have time to enjoy the passing into winter.

Early in October I managed to get out to Tacoma's beautiful Point Defiance Park to grab these photos. I thought I would need to rush before the rain pulled down the leaves. Little did I know that they would hang around for several more weeks





(Don't be fooled, I didn't catch this beast "in the wild", merely grazing from within the fence of Point Defiance's wonderful zoo!)

(overly-dramatic) SIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHH

How 'Bout Them Apples?

He had us nervous for a minute, but Borowski pulled through with the save.

Indians win!

Poor A-Rod. His team just lost . . .

And this kid? He can't wait to see the Indians in Boston. And even though they won't be there, "Yankees Suck" will still be heard thoughout Fenway.

Thoughts of Home

Cleveland has been much on my mind lately, with its unseasonably warm temps in the 80s (while those of us out here in the PacNW shiver with the early onset on winter-like gray and 50s!) The Indians are kicking butt in the playoffs, and those quarter-beer days on the 1980s seem a distant memory.

I grew up just outside of Cleveland in a then-small-now-monstrous suburb called Strongsville. My parents still live there, active as ever in local theater groups, various landscaping and car-fixing projects, filling me on all the details of the neighbors, the football team, and the mall. My sister A has, like me, abandoned the suburbs in favor of urban living. She lives in West Cleveland with her husband J and their daughter L in a funky little neighborhood called Tremont. Within a several block radius of their house they can dine at Mexican, Polish, African (I think!), or visit the best year-round market in Cleveland.

In mom's most recent letter she described my little niece L, aged 20 months, as having "a huge belly and no butt!" Her description of her pants sliding right down around her legs has still got me howling! This letter was soon followed by a phone call from my sister in which she lamented the fact that she and J had better stop swearing in front of L. The most recent incident: while grocery shopping L accidentally knocked something off the shelf. She looked down, looked up at her mum, shook her head and said "Dammit."

L is ready to do battle with one of grandma's garden gnomes.

Chilling out at the local fair.

Z and I went to two Indians games while we were there in June.

A New Addition

(I have to get one more entry in before the next month!)

Meet the newest member of our humble driveway:

We call him Shitty Blue.

Belgium For Sale

While seeking-out-then-catching-up-on international news, I discovered that Belgium is for sale. If you have the financial means I highly recommend considering this worthy investment. If not for the culture, history, and wonderful people, than at least for the food and beer!