No, no I did not.

..

Nice try, Spongebob.

What happens when Charlie goes out of town.

Charlie has been in Challis, Idaho for the past week (or so). And I have been so productive.

Of course, I miss him. The cat is a mediocre cuddling substitute what with the claws, the raspy tongue, and the tendency to gnaw on your hand when it's time for breakfast (Charlie only possesses two of the three qualities listed above).

So. SO. What have I been up to?

Sharpening kniiiiiivvvveeeeesss.... (but more on that later).

Taking a few pictures, for starters. I've been giving the camera a little rest this spring and summer. I'm not totally sure why, but the inspiration switch has been off. That's not to say that the joy is gone, or there there isn't good subject matter - but I've been trying to live a little more within my own life rather than outside it looking in. Hopefully the hiatus will be over soon and I'll be back to it. You know how those things go.

Anyhow, all that said, I got a few pretty pictures over the weekend of the sunflower that I sprouted in our back yard. It's far taller than my head, and catches the evening light in the way only a sunflower can.

I also picked us up a compost bin (sparing you any pictures I may have taken of THAT - we'll save those for the loamy brown earth phase that comes later). See, when Charlie leaves town, Ariel's flower child roots start to show. I'm still shaving my legs, but I may be eating things like quinoa and bulgur, roasting beets, sauteing polenta, and liberally loading everything up with chevre from our local co-op. And composting. And making zucchini bread (a big hit at work). And kicking off a couple small-scale sewing projects.

More on all of those later.

Best of all, a package arrived in the mail from my mom today. Enclosed, with just a short "love-you!" note was a book and another present. I'm thrilled about the book (here we go with the flower child again): it's about preserving! Yay! (Did I mention that I haven't used a blow dryer since Charlie left, either? See? As if you needed proof about me. Admit it. You knew it all along.)

But.

The other present.

A knife sharpener.

I know this is a really domestic thing to get excited over, but slicing a perfect wedge out of a peach with a newly-sharpened knife? I felt like a real badass. I may have to sleep with one under my pillow just to show how tough I am (uh, a knife, not a peach) (don't worry, Sue, I won't - that would be a little too weird).

I do wish we were having thunderstorms tonight, because I really wanted to tell people at work that I spent the evening SHARPENING MY KNIVES IN A THUNDERSTORM.

That'd earn me some respect. Or something?

Starting anew

It's possible that in the days to come, I'll try to find a way to migrate the old posts from Spudward over to this blog, but for the meantime, this is our new home: a blank slate that hopefully we'll feel the incentive to fill.

Welcome to Spudward, take two.

Old posts can be found here: http://spudward.blogspot.com

Adventures at state agencies.

"You have got to be kidding me. Seriously. SERIOUSLY?"

You can always expect a long wait and some curious people-watching, but never have I had an experience at the Social Security office as I did the other day.

Now, I'm a pretty patient person, and after a couple years of commuting to work on Portland's public transportation system, I'd like to think that I have pretty tolerant attitude toward the public at large. Stinky people? Oh well. Life happens. Rude people? I've got my "ignoring you" and "disinterest" faces down pat. Crazy people? Just part of the community; be polite, but try not to engage.

You definitely utilize those skills when you have a hang out at a public services office.

So I am sitting there. Minding my own business. Waffling between reading the book I brought and checking my phone for the best, newest things on the internet and e-mail. Typical waiting behavior.

The room was stuffy and redolent of people with a lower-than-average idea of hygiene. Yuck.

When I came in, the hyper-friendly security agent informed me that I wasn't allowed to have my coffee mug in the room, and that I had to leave it on the counter by the door. Bummer. Now I'm a little undercaffeinated, too.

The room is slowly filling up when two men come through the door. One guy is a small, wiry, whip-skinny fellow, the other (The Lenny to his George) is tall and pretty overweight. Tall enough, that when I was seated, and the two men took the seats next to me, the big guy's hip was at the same level as my head.

The big guy identifies a friend across the room, and stands up to talk to him. First, however, he turns to talk to the skinny guy. The rows are close enough together, that I had to turn and make room for him to stand and make his way down the aisle. I'm turned away, as, due to the architecture of his frame and my seated position, his butt is right next to my face. I'm trying to be polite, and just ignore the situation as best I can.

That's when I noticed a slight odor.

Phew, poor guy. He also must fall into the "poor hygiene" category, because MAN he smells like... well... POOP.

Being polite. Just minding my own business.

The smell intensifies.

Wow. I wonder if that old lady in front of my ripped one - sometimes old people aren't too conscious of controlling those things.

And it continues to get worse.

All of a sudden it hits me (like a wave of rotten eggs and a meal that didn't agree with someone)... this guy just farted in my face.

He stood there.
With his butt.
In my face.
And let one go.

They couldn't call my number fast enough.

By the way - with regard to the name changing (the purpose of my being there)? We decided to go with Varhol. What do you think?

Saturday mornings

There's nothing quite like a lazy Saturday morning when the weather outside is dreary, the air inside in chilly, and you have nothing (absolutely nothing!) on your agenda.


Sleeping in until 10, warm people wrapped in a dense, heavy cocoon of blankets.

The warm, roasty smell of brewing coffee.

Dragging chairs and laptops into the warm kitchen and sharing internet clips and funny blog posts we wait for sweet popovers to "pop" in the oven.


This American Life weaving curious, inquisitive stories on the radio.

Yes, friends. This is the homebody life that a wintery morning demands of a newly married couple.


Here's a link to the popover recipe we used: Sugar-Crusted Popovers.
Let me offer a tip or two: if using a muffin tin, heat it in the oven while you blend the batter. Put a pat of butter (just a tiny, bean-sized one) in each indentation. Add the batter once the butter is completely melted. Don't worry about brushing them with melted butter (it ended up being TOO rich for us). Dust them with sugar or another topping. We like: powdered sugar and lemon, honey butter, lemon curd, cinnamon sugar, jam. Anyhow, use his batter recipe, though. It was perfect.

Winter in the desert

Snow, cold; cold, snow. Wind, clouds, sun, cold, snow, snow, snow.

Winter has settled in on Boise. We've had a few days of snow tempered by melty, 40 degree days, sunshine, and rain. The good old back-and forth. Rumor has it that the foothills trails are a mucky mess, so our options for shot dayhikes are slim. We've been eyeballing the snow depths in the nearby mountains, and our snow shoes are burning holes in the wall. Maybe tomorrow.

I know, you probably want to hear about the wedding and the holidays. As several weekends spent almost entirely in our pajamas evinces, we still feel like we're catching up and recovering.

Since our last update we've honeymooned in Mexico...

And enjoyed Christmas with all the various permutations of our families.

Now, with the last long slog of winter ahead of us (though the days are getting longer again!), I guess it's time to buck-up and address those real, grown-up things that we've been putting off for the last few months (bank accounts, name changes, etc. JOY!).

In some respects it's a little relieving - we now have the time and wherewithal to actually settle into somewhat of a normal life again. And that is a good thing.

That said, knowing us, chances are it won't be altogether TOO normal.