At least we have pumpkins

So, it almost goes without saying that without our cozy spot in the Valley we were not producers of food this season. There is a heavy weight on my heart that comes with this realization--mostly that someone else was enjoying my raspberries and blueberries and such. I also really missed having our own pumpkin patch. We spend a good weekend or two prepping and processing pumpkins each year and I was unwilling to give that up. So we put on our 'kid hats' and headed out to the corn maze/pumpkin patch/petting zoo.

I forgot how much I like pretending to be a kid--but I did remember to allow the kids up front when looking at the piglets and petting the donkeys and such.

We had some folks over for pumpkin carving and shenanigans--I hope the results don't get smashed on the street, because they're quite fun.

I'm especially nostalgic for fall things--apples, pumpkins, cider and so on--as I travel between the valley and the high desert each week and prepare for my journey into the cloud forest (39 days and counting)...

I'm also keen to prolong fall because the snow is nipping at my commute--I met this scene last Monday morning, which meant a beautiful, if slow journey across the mountains.

Food as 'high culture'

In the Sunday review (online early I surmise), there was a cheeky op-ed about how we've traded foodie-ness for high culture. Rather than sit around and discuss the true authorship of Elizabethan plays or the new installation at the museum, we wax philosophical (and starry-eyed) over grass-fed beef and truffle oil.

I found some proof in the pudding, as it were....I have had long concern at 'good food' being taken up as a fad and thus made into something that is for a select few. And remember, this is FOOD we're talking about here.

And perhaps it is true, as the author points out:

“A good risotto is a fine thing, but it isn’t going to give you insight into other people, allow you to see the world in a new way, or force you to take an inventory of your soul.”

Perhaps not, which signals that our concern with food has gone off the wrong end…
That said, here are some foods—oranges perhaps, or lettuce, or coffee—which should make people pause, if not ‘take inventory…’

Gendering drinks

I was going to ask, "when did drinks become gendered?" but then I remembered every superbowl commercial with scantily clad women selling sex beer.

But this is less *subtle* (if you had to choose a word).
I drove by a billboard yesterday proclaiming this new flavor of soda only allowed the "10 manliest calories" to remain in the can. I can't find an image of it yet, but stumbled upon other, similar marketing which is equally obnoxious:

How can calories have a gendered identity? Oh, right, if we socially construct one.

Not only do our calories now take on gender roles (does this soda make me look fat?), apparently so do our beers:

The new ad line-up for this beer, features a "him" that is 'cold and sweaty,' 'likes to party' and if in can form, wants you to 'crush him.' Our beers now have a persona too. It's not just the beerholder, soda drinker or juicebox that defines you--you now give life to another persona through your purchase.

And I must then too ask, what image are we trying to portray? Manly calories, not for women. Oversexed, bitter; less shrinkage, lager. Machismo comes to mind. Being macho, sexist and lewd is apparently in fashion.

I suppose stupid was at one time too.


Later generations, or possibly alien scientists are going to see some serious signs of psychosis.

The close of summer...

...has brought a number of changes.
Finally, and frankly most importantly, Joe and I were reunited under one roof. And it's a newer roof--so we only made a few changes.

Bookshelf wall (before)

Pocket did not eat the paint this time...but he was tempted

Bookshelf wall (drying)

Perhaps you cannot tell that this is bright orange...

Leaky faucet removed.

Finally unloading the fiction!

Bookshelf!

Getting rid of the shocking lime green

White door.

Green door--same as new outside accent color

Outside accent--only half done, we need a taller ladder

Improvisation

View from back porch (before)

New tree!

Smith Rock - and wildfire

We also took some time off to enjoy the close proximity of both of my sets of parents and our beautiful landscape. The landscape had different ideas though and we've sustained more "patchy smoke," over the last 10 days. 

Baby fish!

Trekking through the Obsidian flow (aka Mordor)

 

"Oh Sam!"

Canoodling--of sorts

We journeyed up north this weekend for a brief sojourn at the lake. We had two purposes in our trip (besides attempting to relax): 1) build a kegerator for Pat; and 2) take ceremonial possession of a canoe that Pat built for Joe.

The possession was ceremonial because we do not yet have a space to put said canoe--this coming weekend we should, but as of yesterday, not yet. This did not stop the gents from putting it in the water and testing it out though.

I think it is turned upside down for some final epoxy drying

Flip--it weighs about 65 pounds

The detailing on the oars--also weighing about 65 pounds (kidding, only slightly)

Walking to the lake

The matching outfits were unplanned

The inaugural voyage

In its full glory

Upon our return trip home, in which we enjoyed listening to a book that I put on a thumb drive (oh I love new stereo technology for low-end users!), we also spotted some of the fires that have been creating our smoky areas forecasts. There are currently two fires bordering us, which has made it difficult to see the mountains...I find the wildfires quite intriguing--from a distance.

This fire was quite a spectacle and we were not the only vehicle stopped on the side of the road to take it in. It is really rather spectacular in its own rights--started by lightening (unlike the other), the terrain is making it extremely difficult to contain. We saw the marshaling of the fire crew at the small airport in the area--helicopters were in abundance.

Mt. Hood from the south

Photo Book

Click here to view this photo book larger

I made this photo book 2 years ago and never printed it--but I got a note saying they're discontinuing this book and would I like to share it--so here it is. This whole social networking thing is outta control!

Different forecast

This is new:

I'm guessing our forecast is due to a fire north of us. Apparently there are quite a few fires this season--yet they are so prevalent the local news barely reports on them. Which makes me think "I get the news I need from the weather report."

A good use for a lawn

Taking in a concert from the warehouse lawn.

Fluvial Bliss

I have spent 3 of the last 4 days, and 2 of the last 2 weekends on (McKenzie and Metolius), or in (Deschutes) different rivers.

Not a huge fan of jumping into cold water, I discovered the bliss that is rafting and floating.

The McKenzie

When rafting, there is zero choice in getting wet--with tubing, I can soak my feet (and my backside becomes the cooling center of my little world). With temps 90+ this weekend, I cannot think of a better way to cool down then to float the river.

Not dreaming of a 'white' birthday

I am a 32 year-old kid now!

For my birthday celebrations this year we went off grid (and local). I've been out of town/country for my last two birthdays and it was really quite nice to be able to celebrate it with others--well mostly Joe.

We decided on backpacking/car camping/hiking in the Sisters Wilderness, which is quite literally in our new backyard. It was incredible.

Also a 32 year-old kid.

We had intended to take an alternate (read: less popular) route to the famed Green Lakes. However, we got snowed out! We started at a meadow trailhead, which only had a couple of other vehicles parked at it. It was rather a bit more chilly than we expected, but absolutely beautiful. We encountered only a few people along the way, a forest service person who chatted with us and asked to see our permit--she noted that the trail was covered in snow a bit further on, but was encouraging regarding our ability to locate it. The meadow was only about 5 miles in from the trail head and we still had about 5 more miles to cover to get up to the lakes--

South Sister from Park Meadow

We didn't linger at the meadow, which was gorgeous and full of frogs (or perhaps it was toads). Instead we started to look for a better way to cross over the creek to get to the trail on the other side. Even though it is now late July, it's really spring in this area, so the waters run high and there is still a substantial amount of snow on the ground. Joe found a precarious limb to leap from, I just gritted my teeth and walked through the skinniest, shallowest bit I could find, boots and all. So I sloshed through the next few hours.

Covering my ears in mosquito hell.

The next group of people we ran into was a group of young boys who had been trying to find Golden Lake--the one that the guidebook says "only experienced hikers with a compass and a good map should attempt." They had lost the trail and the turn off in the snow and had decided to trailblaze up the creek. Confident in our own skills at trail finding (heh heh, I know, right?), we carried on. And we found the snow. And we were misled by other footsteps and we found three more guys wandering in circles looking for the trail. They also gave up and headed back toward the meadow. We marked our steps (er, some of the time) and took up where they left off. After several missteps and false starts, Joe found the trail. He called to me, "it even has a sign," which thrilled me, because I had begun to seriously doubt that if we did find the trail again, that we wouldn't just keep losing it in different snow drifts.

I did not take a picture. The sign said "Golden Lake."
So, we found the hard to find spot...and lost the official trail. We decided to throw in the towel as well. Back to the meadow...but which way? We spent a few minutes in mild panic and then found our footsteps in the snow again. We probably tacked another 4 miles on in our effort (although I wager a guess that I walked a full mile more than our trails counted on due to always being moving so as to not be mosquito food--pacing during lunch, dinner and so on).

We forded the creek again, this time, sans shoes (I don't think my feet have ever been so cold)--I didn't even put my shoes back on, just wandered in my dripping wet, frozen socks on the sun warmed pine needles. We camped at the meadow, which was mosquito paradise and spent a quiet night munching on our packed in goodies and enjoying a birthday bourbon.

The next morning, we packed back out and went in pursuit of a campsite adjacent to the next days trail.

I'm stumping for Nalgene.

Wildflowers--mountain Lupine I think...

We picked a site about a mile down the road from our Friday trailhead and immediately across the road from our Sunday one. We reveled in cold water and beer from our cooler that we had squirreled away in the trunk early Friday morning. And we did a lot of this:

View from our site: the high point on the right = Sunday destination.

Almost accidentally trod on by me...

Ahhhh car camping...

Our Sunday morning dawned fairly early with the sun, Joe busied himself with breakfast--coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches--and I started to pack up. I went to get water from a creek close to our site and ran into some friends from Eugene--what are the chances of that?! They had been on the rim trail (which Joe kept calling Tamarind paste) the day before and warned us of snow--but promised that following the footsteps would not lead us astray. It was a pretty steep start, but then a gradual assent--it took us a bit to get to the first viewpoint, but what a reward:

Jefferson--almost floating in the sky

Joe views the peaks

Middle and North Sisters

South Sister

Broken Top

It was rather windy at the top...

The view from our wind-break, lunch location

flowers!

Bachelor and a married man

One of the many snow fields--much more fun going down

Looks like Entmoot to me.

All in all, it was a spectacular three days. I'm sore and I have more mosquito bites than I can count, but it's nice to have such a great playground to take a few days getting (literally) lost in.