To be overpowered by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
Beverly Nichols
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Tags: Quoting
The Portland Chinese Classical Garden, in celebration of ten years in the heart of the city and the changing of its name to Lan Su (Garden of Awakening Orchids), offered free admission for ten days, starting after the new year. The hubster and I took advantage, as we hadn’t visited the garden since it’s inaugural season. It was as beautiful and tranquil as I remembered, and quite thankfully, they limited the number of people in at a time, so it did didn’t feel at all crowded, save in the line out front.
The flow of water creates the unique shape of a Lake Tai Rock.
The dragonfish swallows all evil influences and protects the building from fire.
I have always admired paths like these, so beautiful and precisely laid. And, just in case you were wondering, no one stepped on my blue suede shoes.
Bamboo is a friend of winter, bending in storms, but not breaking – a reminder of perseverance.
The Chinese believe that a view within a view creates the illusion of infinite space.
The Yin reflection of the sky is mirrored on the Yang of the earth below.
I have always loved this sign, but it would not be our final stop for lunch.
Being who we are, we decided an Irish meal at Kells was on order. Fish and chips (the BEST), soup, and salad.
And, of course, a little Guinness, too, with hard cider to make a Snakebite. A fine winter day.
Hey brother. Happy Birthday!
Tags: Portland, Restaurants
So, I’ve got quite the hodgepodge for you today. First off, isn’t this a gorgeous sky? It was like the heavens couldn’t make up their mind, sweet, soft, and ethereal pink or menacing grey. A bit like me, sometimes I just can’t decide.
Take, for instance, my sugar addiction. One moment I am not at all interested in eating one more bite of it, and I get a little haughty, feeling, “Oh, I’ve really licked it this time!” Then, I drive by Pix, pull over the car and eat half of a St. Honore before I am dumbstruck by what is happening. Shoot! As for this very moment, I am feeling, more than anything else, like I need to let the obsession go. I am a pretty healthy person, all things considered, knocking on wood, etcetera, etcetera. Why fret about it? My cravings ebb and flow, like a river or the sea, just let it be.
Speaking of being and the flow of the sea, today my yoga practice involved a new, and rather exciting video (at least to me – it’s been out for a while) Shiva Rea: Yoga Trance Dance. I’m pretty sure I have mentioned that I LOVE to dance, in a crazy, unscripted, primal, and occasionally, um, nutty, kind of way, really taking the rhythms to another plane, both physically and mentally (quite unlike my graceful ballerina friend Mara). Thankfully, this DVD fully embraces these qualities, really engaging the practitioner in a dynamic and energizing flow, riding the waves of grace, energy, and movement. I highly recommend it.
Now, a bit more of the sea, in a shopping and decorating note. How about this painting gracing our bedroom? There used to be a poster of an old map of Paris, but we had grown tired of it, and then I got, in a semi-paranoid state, to thinking that if the big earthquake comes while we are in bed and knocks it off the wall, we’re goners. So, the other day at the Goodwill Bins, I found this. It is an original oil painting by H. Walker. I know nothing of this person, but bless his or her heart, the sea is right, and I got a bargain that will not kill me, my precious spouse, or cats, all for $20, including the frame. Not bad, not bad at all my precious peeps. Now if I could center the bed under the painting, my anal-retentive self would be super happy. One thing at a time…
Finally, the last of the summer tomatoes. We’ve had quite the season around here – I canned nine pints, made a big batch of Spicy Tomato Chutney (Zowie – I posted this recipe one year ago TODAY!), and eaten and eaten to my heart’s content. These are the Sungold cherry variety from our rather prolific vines. I sliced them, sprayed them with olive oil (using our refillable pump – love this gadget), followed by a sprinkle of salt, and two hours at 200 degrees in the oven. With my instructions, because I didn’t want to stop watching the news and get off the couch (sometimes I refuse to budge), the hubster made this pasta dish. Easy, delicious. Why don’t you try it? This serves two and is yummy!
Pasta (we used brown rice fettuccine, as we avoid wheat when we can)
1 handful pine nuts
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
3-4 fresh sage leaves, sliced fine, as in a chiffonade
1 handful raisins
1 large handful of sun or oven dried tomatoes
salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes, to taste
While your pasta is cooking, toast the pine nuts in a dry skillet until light brown, shaking the pan to evenly brown. Set aside. Add butter and olive oil to pan, bring to a slow bubble, add the sage and raisins, cooking until the raisins puff a little, add the tomatoes and gently stir, just until warmed through. Once your pasta is finished, toss everything together. Season with salt, fresh ground pepper, and red pepper flakes.
If you have some green tomatoes left in the garden, fry them up! We sliced ours to about 1/4″, dipped them in Ener-G egg replacer (regular egg will do), dredged them in brown rice flour (more crunch, but wheat will do), corn meal, salt, and pepper, and fried in enough sunflower oil to cover the bottom of the skillet. Fry until golden on each side and voila, yummy (I can’t find the photo, sorry).
What a day! Enjoy yours.
Tags: Cooking and Baking, Decorating
After what seemed an interminable twenty-eight days without rain, of living in a vastly foreign version of Portland, the skies finally opened up. I was watching television yesterday afternoon when I was hit by one of the most glorious scents – the first drops of rain hitting pavement – wafting through the air. At last!
Thankfully, the the initially fleeting sprinkles were only a preview of what was to come. As the hubster and I ventured out to the show, as my Grandma Frances would say, to take in The Brothers Bloom (more about that on Friday) on two-for-Tuesday night at our very favorite movie house, The Academy (two movie tickets + popcorn + Reese’s Pieces + hard cider for the hubster + tip = $16!), the rain began again. By the time we arrived at the theater, the drops had grown larger, more certain of themselves.
Much to my delight, the rain held steady through the gorgeous film, the tarred roads puddle filled and shimmering with moisture in the evening light. At bed time, the gentle patter of drops on the tin shed roof lulled me into sweet slumber. Thankfully, the rain has yet to cease, the sky a radiant combination of sun, cloud, and brilliant blue. Portland, no longer foreign, is home again.
Yesterday was a great day. I felt the strongest I have had since my surgery. Feeling rather invigorated, I walked around the block twice without any discomfort and lifted some light weights. I could even shimmy well enough that I decided I would be fit to drive today. It didn’t matter where – the grocery store, lunch, anywhere. I was determined to get in the car and G-O. Too bad my body had other plans, for, despite a very good night’s sleep and a lovely bath this morning, I am exhausted, mentally and physically. I can only stand for brief periods without feeling woozy, and my large incision feels as though someone has taken a rather dull needle to sew it up again. On top of that, even though my narcotics consumption is limited to one pain pill when I go to bed, my mind is very much like mush. What the heck happened?
Then I saw all the splendor out in the garden and came upon this quotation by Ben Okri:
“Don’t depair too much if you see beautiful things destroyed. Because the best things are always growing in secret.” Suddenly, I felt better. Not like I could drive or miraculously be pain free, but lighter in spirit, because I know this is true.
For those of you who haven’t visited our red roofed house, we have an old fence surrounding the back yard, nearing the end of it’s life in several places. Next to this fence is the rocky area where we park the Subaru and, despite our best efforts, cultivate many species of dandelion, clover, and vetch. I am the first to admit that it isn’t the prettiest sight to see. But duck under the low apple branches and open the gate and there is loveliness in every corner: flowers blooming, food growing, birds chirping, and bees zooming.
Then I thought of my own precious body and the secrets it’s keeping from me, even when I feel destroyed. It is healing and growing in its own time and its own way. I need only patiently wait, and all will be revealed.
