The sun is soaking into my skin and I can't help but crave a little country, some cut offs, sweet tea and a long flat drive. I'd thought perhaps I was over country music, maybe it had all gone flat - thought maybe Beau had gotten to my music taste, drugged me with a distaste.

Nope.

That loves still going strong, it was just waiting for a warm ray and a new worthwhile song to make my foot start swinging.

And I'll win Beau over, if it's the last thing I do.  The man's from Boise and loves a cold bud light, mountain biking and girls who bake him homemade pies.  But he hates country and called the first ball cap I saw him wear a "costume."  This guy.  All I can do is continue to spam his Spotify inbox.  :)

I'm itch'n for the 75 degree weekend - 7 hours and counting.

I want to keep my sweater on.  I can feel the heat on my face, and water sounds better than the hot cup of coffee before me.  But I want the comfort.  The clouds are deep in the sky and from a glance out the window, you'd be convinced it were chilly and crisp.  So my mind registers: Fall.  You need your sweater, with its warm soft knit sleeves folded around you.  And you need that cup of coffee, seeping happiness and strength down your throat and into your soul.

Only, I'm sweating.  And it's muggy.  And I might even be dehydrated.

But I won't give in.  I'm on Pinterest, searching recipes.  I used my crockpot last night and made a magical, delicious impromptu chili.  I don't know if it is really chili, but it had beans and chicken and a tomatoesque sauce, so we called it chili. The perfect "fall" meal.

Pinterest is amazing.  You type in "crockpot recipe" and hundreds of pins come up.  You type in "400 calorie meal" and dozens upon dozens fill your screen. Today, I'm going to type in "400 calorie crockpot recipes"  - I'm pretty confident Pinterest will be up to the challenge.

My arms feel naked - I'm putting my sweater back on.

PS - The berries killed last night.  We won something like 5-0.  And even scored while playing a man down.  Magically, somewhere in the second half, we learned to pass, and communicate on the field. About an hour in to a tied match, we just transformed.  And I loved playing soccer again!!! After 2 blown attempts, I placed one, left footed, it just felt right.

I went sailing for the first time last night.




Oh yeah, and I came home with a concussion.  Not the first time.  Safe to say, not the last.

Beau says he hopes it doesn't turn me away from sailing for good (there's a great little pun in there, if only you knew).  I informed him he doesn't need to worry - I've received a concussion from most of my favorite activities.  Queue the Kelly motto... "We take a lick'n and keep on tick'n." 

I know all my family members are already working on the jokes they are going to make in regards to my first sailing trip.  But, I'll have you know, when I ashamedly admitted the tale to my sailboat owning (and competition racing) coworker, he informed me the injury was sincerely not my fault.

Portland

Remember how last month, or the month before last, we went to Portland?  

Well, I'm ready to talk about it now. 

In all truthfulness, I'm just finally in possession of my iPhoto again, and a few moments to upload them. 

We took off early from work and caught a train.  My first train.  (One of my 25 Goals for 25 no less.)

Union Station

I am honestly having a difficult time remembering the order of events.  I know we stayed with his friend the first night, Bryan.  I've had the opportunity to meet him before, but we were hoping to get time with his wife and daughter too.  No luck.  They had friends in from out of town.  John & Bryan had recently gone to Sweden together and this provided the first opportunity for us to scan through all of Bryan's photos.  I also believe that Friday night we drove first to a Creole Restraurant famous for it's Mac 'n Cheese.... and we wandered around some.... freeway underpasses?  I wasn't yet impressed by Portland.  (Minus the mac n' cheese.  It was darn good!)

The next morning, after breakfast and and goodbyes, we headed down to the Pearl District.  We sipped some of the best coffee in Portland at Barista, wandered shops and boutiques and then headed off for a hike.

That is water.
John thought it funny to pour water all over himself...
 he's regretted it since he realized he looks like he was drooling in all the photos.  ;) 

Saturday night we got rooms at a cool hotel downtown, where we showered and cleaned up for the rest of our adventure - and the main part of my surprise.  (If you remember - I basically knew nothing about the weekend.)  He'd told me to dress somewhat nice, but comfortable.  I knew we'd be outside for part.

We got ready, and drove to Powells, where he told me to pick out a book.  In the end, we each walked out with a small pile.  

First time to Powells. I get it now. 

 So the surprise.  I'd been trying to figure it out all month.  Whatever it was, it only happened during the month of September.  John had insisted we go in September to see it.  I thought perhaps it was a big play in a park our some kind of show or group experience.

It was in a park.  But even after we'd picked up our bag of picnic goodies and bottle of wine.  I had no ideas.  Even upon strolling up to the elementary school yard and finding the hillside covered with hundreds of people... sitting down on our own blanket and looking around.  I still had no clue what we were all there for.  I let him tell me.  It was for the Swifts.  The tiny little birds you might notice all over in the sky below.  Thousands of them gather around dusk every day in September, swirl around, and eventually after a very impressive show, they all dive into that chimney.... like a giant syphon.

 After the swifts had packed in for the night, we packed up our blanket, cheese, and wine and headed off to the next place.  The nickel arcade - home of John's favorite game ever.  He doesn't even know the name, or any of the directions, because it's all in Japanese... but he knows how to win at it.  I've got to admit, it had a special thrill.  So did running around an arcade with my favorite fellow-sometimes-five-year-old.  We ended the night with more drinks - Spanish Coffees at the oldest restaurant in Portland.  The bartender comes to your table and tosses and drops and throws and lights until a delicious caramelized drink sits before you - no longer in flames, but still warming your throat as it smoothly goes down.

The next day we explored the city in daylight - of course tried some more coffee, took plenty of photos, and wandered the Sunday market.  Before too long, it was time to hop back in the car and drive to our last scene.

You might not know it, but I am dating THE Mr. Corrado.  The very first.  We took a few hours and wandered John's campus (beautiful!), ate at one of his favorite Mexican dives (delicious!), saw his old church... and he even did a little re-enactment of how he became the first ever, Mr. Corrado.  Those hips do not tell lies.

 Lunch at St. John's Bridge (Is that right, Beau?) 

 We finished it all with a train ride home, watching the sun set, sipping hot cocoa and taking turns reading out of our new books.  We couldn't believe how beautiful the timing was -  I must have taken 20 photos.  Don't waste time on the "dinner train" - just catch a train to Portland at dusk.

I'm pretty sure I have the timing all wrong, because I can't imagine how we fit all these things in to one weekend - with a train both ways. :/  There were plenty of other coffee stops and restaurants and little happenings I left out too.   And yet, it felt perfectly relaxing.  With time to wander, breathe, taste and hold hands.  Time to talk and grow past things together.  

I'm so lucky to get these moments, and with a man who is so kind and thoughtful to plan out all the little important parts of a surprise weekend. 

Whenever we drive by a loading dock, John points and says "That's just like that place we had lunch that one time."  And he's right.  One day back in May he surprised me by having new keys made for my car at the dealership (they have chips that have to be programmed).  We'd picked up sandwiches and drinks and grabbed a blanket out of my car and walked away from the dealership to find a nice place to picnic.... in Sodo.  Around the corner and a block or two away, we stopped at an unused loading dock, laid out the blanket and climbed up onto the edge.  Feet dangling and cars passing, we chatted about friendship and life and what the next step might look like for us.  Seeing a guy who just might be as crazy, random and eccentric as me eating his sandwich to my left and talking about the guy he used to know who hopped trains... it's a moment I treasured, then and now.

This morning we bussed downtown together and as we passed yet another loading dock he signaled,  "Hey look, that's just like our favorite spot.  Wonder how the cuisine is."  And then that smile.

There are some things we still need and just haven't gotten.  We really need.  And haven't bothered to pick up.  For one, trash bins.  For two, a kitchen table.  We managed to have dinner company three nights in a row, and not have a kitchen table.  Instead, we served them on two little round tables with screw-in legs.  The first night showed how un-ideal our table situation was, as one of our guests went to set her glass down and discovered there was actually no table quite right there.  Two round tables, under one rectangular table cloth : danger. 

Last night I decided to top the tables with my big picture frame.  It looked cool (I thought) and we were definitely able to claim having provided a unique experience to our guest.... but it didn't exactly offer the stability you need for cutting steaks.   We took turns holding the "table" still.  And we kept all the glasses half-full.  

All three nights have required our guests give us quite a bit of grace and be along for the ride.  But last night was probably the peak.  We'd scheduled to have one of John's best friends over... before we knew that Meg would have accepted a job, started, and had her first event that would go well past 6pm (all within 3 days), and I'd be at an unexpected meeting myself until 6pm. 

I walked in the door (my door) at 6:30pm to smell all sorts of wonderful things.  John was seasoning steaks and mixing drinks.  Michael was standing in the kitchen with him, having brought wine and excellent music to share.   The fellas had taken care of it all.  I promised that  usually, when we invite guests over, we're usually home to greet them and we typically don't make others cook for them.  We also don't typically feed them on a giant picture frame.  Or, one day that won't be typical.  Hopefully.  Probably soon.  I'm just grateful we have friends who are willing to indulge us and play along at our Bohemian game.

We ended the evening with music and poetry on our little lawn.  Meg and I sipped wine while the boys enjoyed their pipes.  Byron, Keats and The Civil Wars.  It wasn't a bad summer night.  Not at all.

I have a dangerous habit. I tend to pick out recipes I've never made before whenever I have company coming over.  I find myself in the kitchen with a handful of ingredients, googling "How to wash a leek" and thinking, This could all go very wrong.  Monday - Wednesday we are having someone over each night for dinner and when I sat down to write out the menu, I determined Salmon and Quinoa sounded delicious. I blame this largely on Kaylee who is constantly posting these amazing looking photos of quinoa creations she's concocted.  I decided lime and mango type flavors (not original, but sounded delicious).  From there, I did the next important thing - texted Kaylee, who gave me encouragement that I could do it.  And then began my All Recipes search.  I settled on a mango salsa that had a lot of great reviews - and went with the suggestion to replace the habaneros with bell peppers.  While I also discovered mid-cooking that I didn't have a peeler for the mangos, a pyrex big enough for the salmon, or any foil.... and John got to run around from store to store... and my guests showed up before anything was in the oven even, it was an incredible night.  Thankfully my guests were the Sittigs, and things are allowed to go wrong or be late when you are entertaining close friends.  We ended up wrapping up the meal preparations all together, and intentionally I'd picked a quick-cooking meal.  Before you knew it we were sitting down (at our not-so-kitchen-table) to quite the tasty meal and already laughing hysterically.  I love summer nights that allow for new cooking adventures and close friends.

Bright-Eye-Blueberries

Going to miss our littlest Berry.  She's the sweetest of them all.

We celebrated Em's last game with a pre-game potluck and a post-game jump...swim. 

There's no one like the Blueberries.

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I feel like everything has taken on a sort of enchantment.  I set out my blankets and snacks and lantern and couldn't quite believe it was real.  I've tried every year to have a wonderful viewing party for the Perseids.  It usually ends with me sitting alone someplace, staring at a half-cloudy sky.  Somehow, this year it happened.  So easily and comfortably too.  All the sudden it was dusk, the car was packed, and we were driving through the mountains - heading East for a few hours just to see the stars from a better angle in our tiny world.  We were like the Little Prince, moving our chairs to watch the sun set once more and the stars come out in a quieter land.  It was real life.  I was laying under stars, listening to a story, counting fires in the skies.  Sipping whiskey with my heart's friend.

And meanwhile, I knew others were doing similarly.  They were in big houses by the beach, laughing and eating and enjoying a hot summer eve.  They were telling stories and making stories.  And when I'd read them later, I'd read them all with that same odd feeling of enchantment.  Summer has a way of doing that.  Especially the last days of summer, when you begin to realize that it's all about to disappear.  And here in Seattle the magic is all the stronger.   It's a friend who's only just arrived, and already you are dreading the day they pack it all away and drive across the East. 

How summer does this to me each year, I don't know.  Just as I've committed to giving up, it silently lays itself out all around me and leaves me a in a quiet mood of contentment.  It makes me fall in love with my life, with my city, with my dreams.  It makes me fall in love with itself.  Summer, you are a terrifying Enchantress.  And I dread the day you'll wave your hand and disappear again.  But in the meantime, I love you, because you make me feel every minute. 

"To People Who Read Hemingway"

I really like these people.

How to make a Hemingway:

To create a Hemingway one must have champagne and absinthe that can be combined in a glass that can be drunk from, but more importantly they must contain within themselves that quality of character that both refines and challenges and at the same time accepts the moment with all the beauty and pain and Fremont dirt that abounds in truth all around them.   It is only then, when a person can take what is and while not requiring it to become something more, let it be what it might that they should taste a Hemingway.

Where better to sip a Hemingway, then after dark in a public park?  The Troll.

I was at a barbecue the other day when I heard the bartender spin around to a group and ask, "Did someone just say Thoreau?!"

I was sitting outside where I don't think any of them could see me, and I smiled pretty big and thought to myself, "Now there's a guy I could really like." 

Better yet, I don't think anyone had even mentioned the good ol' Henry.

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Dresses.

How I love thee.

(For a few hours.)

Have you noticed how many amazing dresses are around right now?!

Summer has come to mean Tennessee for me.  Nearly every summer since high school graduation has brought a trip to Nashville.  Days like today, where the sun starts to pour through the windows like the country music pouring through my headphones, my heart starts to wish for those back roads and green hills.  Knowing that two of my very good friends are currently there, sipping coffee at Crema and filling up on sweet tea and pulled pork and fried corn just makes it that much worse. 

Every trip to Tennessee reminds me who I am, and seems to remind me where I am.  I come home from each visit so much more comfortable in my identity, more confident.  Something about their air puts me at ease with life and all its uncertainties, struggles, and blessings.  It's just a place I love.  And of course, it's home to two of the most special people in my life. 

It's as if every trip I'm spending quality time with three people I love:  Kimberly, Jason, and Tennessee.  My heart needs each of them.  And I'll be eagerly awaiting whenever I next get to visit.

PC: Adam Carpenter

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I have this strange affinity to things I can eat from the yard.  Not just tomatoes carrots and other things gardeners typically grow in their vegetable garden.  No, as a kid, my mom showed me a number of plants I could and could not put in my mouth.  Why? I don't really remember, but it probably had something to do with all the "salads" Elise and I would make for Tyson and Robert to "eat" - you know, the magically healing kind that restores great warriors from deadly battle wounds. 

Whatever the reason was, I learned that foxglove (the bell-like flowers scattered around the borders of our house in purple spotted hues) can stop your heart, pansies are safe as a piece of lettuce.  Rose petals are fine. Mint, obviously, just rinse and chew.  Somehow this came up in conversation last weekend, and I proceeded to make Meg share a pansy with me. 

Of course, I love picking rosemary, mint, basil, tomatoes and the array of other greens we've planted over the years too.  There is just something lovely about gathering from your own garden and tossing it in a salad, or on a cake, or in a tea.  That is why this weekend, I am definitely hoping to sneak away to the May Edible Plant Sale. 

Come to our May Edible Plant Sale and take advantage of the largest selection of organically, sustainably and locally grown vegetable plant starts in the Puget Sound region. The May Edible Plant Sale is FREE and takes place on Sat. and Sun., May 5 and 6, 9 a.m.-3 p.m at Meridian Park (4649 Sunnyside Ave. N, Seattle 98103). 

If any of you have been considering home brewing, it's also a great spot to pick up some hops (says the office home-brewer who shared this event with me). ;) 

About this time of year everything begins to change about "coming home."

The car may be in the drive, but the house is empty.  I walk in the front door and can smell it - the back yard.  The kitchen door is open, the heat from mom's tea garden (our "beer garden") pouring into the kitchen like her tea into a porcelain cup.  The afternoon sun sneaks in through the lace curtains.  This is my home in the summer.  A peak down that dark stairway shows you the back door is wide open - always is.  Mom's hands are buried deep in dirt somewhere.  Dinner won't be ready until 9pm - or much later, once the sun has gone down and she's remembered herself.  By then, the frogs have come out.  I don't always remember there being so many frogs at night, it seems to have happened over the past few years.  Two nights ago I stood at my door and just listened.  It's spring and even the ponds have remembered how to sing. Me and the stars, we listened.

This summer, we are going hiking someplace Kristin went years ago - where you can jump in and swim part way up. I've been trying not to think too much about it, because when I do, I wish it were tomorrow!! So excited for this. I wish I had more free days during the summer to enjoy the outdoors.

I think I would be willing to work 6-day work weeks during the winter, so I could have 3 day weekends all summer. Seriously, why hasn't any company ever proposed that? If I run a company some day (and I just might), I will likely have some unconventional rules of play. I'm all about finding what makes people come alive - because people truly alive are far more creative, focused and productive.  And I'd like my employees to be all of those things.  Not to mention, they're just more fun to be around, and if you're going to be spending 40 hours a week with them....(give or take 8 depending on the season...teehee).