adventures


23
Jun 21

Catching up, last Saturday

Here’s the deal, I’m writing this in arrears. We deliberately ratcheted down our screen time for a few days, but we saw a lot of lovely things and I wanted to share them here. The easiest way to do that, I figured, is in sequence. So, yes, this is published for Wednesday, June 23, the day we returned. But this particular post covers Saturday, June 19th.

Do you remember where you were on Saturday? I do. Here’s the proof.

As we previously discussed, we’re on a trip that’s a surprise to me. We flew yesterday, landing in Seattle and spending the night there. But it wasn’t our final destination. And we were on the plane to Seattle, our second plane of the trip, before I learned that much about where we were going.

We got a rental car this morning and visited the famous Pike Place Market.

That’s where The Yankee and I met her second cousin. She lives nearby, and took us out for lunch. It was a family introduction and a family reunion.

She is the author of eight books, meaning she’s got plenty of stories to share. She told us all about her childhood in Alaska, re-meeting my mother-in-law as adults, her travels abroad, her family, history and architecture. It was a pleasant lunch conversation with a lovely woman.

And we did some people watching on the balcony of the Copacabana, a Bolivian restaurant in the market. It’s been a family-owned joint for longer than I’ve been alive. And, on this day, the line to get in was short. In general, there were people milling about, but Seattle is apparently a city still emerging. The market, we were told, did not yet look like the crowded place it would be on a brilliant June Saturday.

At Copacabana, try their fritanga. It had fresh-tasting hominy — from a can, I’m sure, but still good. And the pork was simmered in an Andean cumin sauce. It was nice and mild, and I wish there was more of it. Quite tasty.

I haven’t had hominy in ages. Saw it on the menu and blocked out everything else. Hominy, I believe comes from Mesoamerica. I don’t know when it made it’s way down to Bolivia, but it’s nice that it did. It worked well here. Also, hominy is more nutritious than other corn products. (So grab some today!)

After we said our goodbyes we hoped in the rental car and drove a quick three hours outside of Seattle on a sunny summer day to Long Beach, Washington. You can find it down near the Oregon border.

Our rental condo was just 300 yards through some tall grass and low pines from the beach.

May I present to you, the beach:

I don’t guess I’ve seen the ocean since July of 2019. The seashore isn’t a spiritual destination for me like it is for some people, but even so, two years seems much too long.

Here are some panoramas of the beach. Click to embiggen.

I stood there on the beach making these changes to the photo, admiring a view I’d never see, when the actual beach was before me. And isn’t that a silly thing to do? Once more, click to embiggen.

In the next post, we’ll see a bit of Pacific coast history, and more Pacific Northwest beauty.


18
Jun 21

Travel day

Saw the first headline about the upcoming fireworks shortage. (We’ve got two weeks to set off a series of stories and scavenger hunts.) But if you can’t find some, come on over. Most assuredly our neighbor bought them all.

We sat in the backyard last year and watched, which was much better than having to find the perfect spot and a parking spot, besides.

He had four false finales last year.

(Update: A week later, at the grocery store, I noted they’re selling sparklers on the end caps nearest cashiers. I think we’ll be fine.)

Anyway, we’re on the road. The Yankee has booked us a trip to I-know-not-where. It’s a long weekend, anniversary getaway. She booked it and said something about it being a surprise and we decided to play that out, just to see how it went. She told me what days to take off from work, what to pack and all of that.

I knew we were going to the airport, and the weather, milder than we’ve been experiencing, was the only clue I had. So I figured Pacific Northwest or Maine.

Turns out that Maine was a possibility, but we went another direction. We made it to the pay-to-park lot, to the airport, through security and down to the terminal and I still knew nothing. Out of habit I looked up at the sign at the gate and saw our connection was in Detroit.

I know it’s not Canada, because she didn’t tell me to get my passport. She could have just grabbed my passport. But also, there are still those border-crossing issues related to the coronavirus.

This is, by the way, our first flight since who knows when. Masks are still required in airports and airplanes, but don’t count the number of noses you see, it’s demoralizing. We were doing an over/under and realized, within 10 minutes or so, that we set the number far, far, faaaaar too low. At one point in Detroit I started wondering aloud, for the benefit of the ill-fitting mask wearers around me, how it was that people managed to put their pants on.

It’s really not that much different, I said, a bit of fabric worn over parts of the body that society has deemed, ya know, necessary.

No one answered me. No one ever answers those.

Aside from a few car-borne family visits this is also one of the very first times we’ve been anywhere that wasn’t at least somewhat necessary. And we have lived and worked in something of a bubble. Be it by institutional mandate or county orders or people’s concern, people we’ve encountered have generally taken great care to take great care. Today’s trips through the airports, then, have been an eye-opening “how the other half live” experience.

Anyway, in Detroit I carefully avoided the sign at the gate. No idea where we were headed next. We got on the plane and the flight attendant did the old welcome aboard speech — still the same spiel, even after that long layoff — and before my lovely bride could distract me (She went with a very loud “SHHHSHHHSHHSHHH!!!!”) I heard the guy say we were heading to Seattle.

Which, really, at some point you have to find out. And while I didn’t want to set my expectations for one place or another, the heat index in Indiana was 105 degrees today. We’ve gone the right direction, is what I’m saying.

Even still, that’s not the actual destination. We were to take a shuttle to an airport hotel tonight. It never showed up, so we hailed an Uber. Tomorrow we’ll rent a car and drive a few hours away. The mystery persists.


28
May 21

Showing off, but just a little

Quite day at the office. Most everyone had taken the day off for the long weekend — or they were working from home. I talked with one person face-to-face. So, really, it was perhaps an almost-average day.

Here’s a new thing from work. We’re going to be rolling out a lot of this sort of thing before long, just trying to show off the work of colleagues. (Somebody oughta do it.)

I got 10 or 11 cuts from her on that study and her recently published NCAA book, and we’re going to show those off a lot, of course.

Speaking of showing off, she got on her time trial bike this afternoon. Working through the geometry shakedown rides, so still getting everything finely tuned after the latest round of adjustments. It was windy, she was getting acquainted and wearing this rain jacket — because it is cold and stupid here. That jacket parachutes and adds unnecessary wind drag. And she was still cooking.

I jumped ahead of here in a little bit of a road that suits me better than her. I figured I should get ahead and stay ahead because, when she got all of this figured out she’d go right by me. So for the next 10 miles.

She did not catch me. Today. She won’t do it tomorrow, because I will have a great ride tomorrow, but that bike is so fast and she’s so powerful on it that it’s only a matter of time. We rode the last two miles together, because it is a fun little chase. I was holding her wheel and glanced down to see was doing 31 mph (for context: that’s respectably fast) on that last little strip. I’ve ridden thousands of miles with her, so trust me here: she wasn’t even trying.

I need to install rockets on my pedals in the next week or two.


25
May 21

When everything is too valuable, there’s no value

“I’m going for a walk,” she said just as I came in and sat down. “You’re welcome to go, too, of course.”

Of course I am. Because it’s a free country and all of the outdoors is pretty big and because she likes my company.

Only I’d just gotten in, set my things down, emptied my books and took off my shoes and I was in that first 20 seconds of re-enjoying a comfortable chair experience.

“There’s a house a few neighborhoods over that went on the market, and I want to see it. They listed it at $700,000.”

Which was intriguing enough.

So we walked a few neighborhoods over. It’s similar to ours, but thankfully not ours. It’s a five bedroom house. There’s a small pool. Two-car garage. Brick and siding exterior. Quiet neighborhood. Trees and sidewalks and a driveway and all of that. Newly updated most everything, according to the listing.

It is not a $700,000 house, at least in any rational world.

Let’s look at the pricing history of the house.

In the early spring of 2012 it went on the market for $359,500. In June of that same year it came off the market. It went back up again in April of 2015, now at $399,900. The price was lowered several times, until it finally sold in July or August of 2015 at $379,900.

In March of 2017, it went back up again, listed this time at $409,900. Less than three weeks later, they lowered the price. Three more weeks, another reduction. And they removed the listing, now at $389,900, in July of that same year.

Now, a word about this market. It’s wacky, even in the best of times. Purchases are often seasonal, based on academic schedules, and you apparently have to act fast, even when there isn’t a crunch. When we came up to shop for houses the majority of what we picked out in the days and a week or two before were off the market by the time we got here. Ultimately, we got perhaps our top realistic choice — everyone has that one they’d try to rationalize over-extending for, right? — and only then because the timing was just, just so precisely right. Another day, either side, it might not have worked out.

Also, and this is important, we don’t have a $700,000 house.

And if I was somehow interested in buying a house for $700,000, I would want a little more space in the yard and privacy as opposed to what this little quaint neighborhood domicile will provide. Also, this is a college town. There are two substantial industries here, and not that many folks, I would imagine, are looking in that range. Good luck to them, but given that locale’s history, and the comps around them, it just doesn’t seem plausible. That price is substantially above the tax assessment, as well. So I’m sure their neighbors are all pleased at this development.

Nice house. No way in the world, in a rational world anyway, it is a $700,000 house. But what even is rational in the housing game at this point?

Low interest rates and market exuberance will keep prices up for a year, maybe two or three. And then there will be some pain. That’s my economic prediction.

My other prediction is that the price on that particular house is going to be lowered.

Last Thursday I mentioned a little project I was working on. Here are the fancy fruits of my minimal labor.

These are homemade cufflinks, in a chain style. There’s a little chain and a non-distinct button on the back to hold a French cuff sleeve together.

So my wrists will look dapper.

And I have quite a few more to make with more cool fabric I have. When you’re making your own, I learned right away, they are terribly inexpensive to make in big batches. So, after I finish another long-running project or two, I’ll have to make a fancy drawer for storage for all of them, eventually.

That ought to raise the property values around here by four or five bucks, right?


7
May 21

Friday in the garage

Slept in, enjoying a day off. Fiddled around catching up on the day’s reading until lunch. Had a sandwich and then went to the garage.

I have been trying to get into the garage all week. But events, and timing and desire and other things, so events, have conspired against me. Today, though. Nothing on the calendar, so to the garage!

Moved the car out so I could get to a saw. I had some wood scraps that needed to get trimmed down. Do away with the pointy bits and save the better stuff on the end.

Ahh, the smell of sawdust! Smells like progress!

And then I straightened things up along that wall of the garage. It needed it. It needed cleaning more than I realized.

Doing that I found a piece of lumber that would work for something my beautiful bride asked me to make for her. So I cut that down to size. And then cut it again. And then tried to square it up. And cut it a 1/16th of an inch off the desired dimensions. Fortunately that’s not integral to the project. Nor is the squareness of all the ages. Somewhere there’s a 1/32 inch of a wave in the thing and we don’t care.

And then I sanded and sanded: 100, 150, 220, 400, 600. It’s almost furniture quality.

It’s just a rectangle of pine. It took no time, but the grain is clean and has some nice character when you can see it up close. Most importantly, she’s pleased. Next The Yankee will stain it — she likes the staining part, everyone does. Then we’ll put some legs on it to make a nice monitor riser on her desk.

This evening we went for a nice walk in between the rain drops. Standing on the cement garage floor and then walking three miles or so. I was starting to feel that. Thanks, old sneakers!

Ribs and re-runs for dinner this evening, and then an early morning for a bike ride. All of this makes for a nice way to start a weekend. Still didn’t get to some of the projects I’d imagined for myself last weekend. But it’ll keep.

And this will have to, as well. I’m taking a few days off from here. So this may hold us over until May 17th. There will be plenty of things to see here then.

Until then, though, you can keep up with things on Twitter and check me out on Instagram, too. And did you know that Phoebe and Poseidon have an Instagram account? Phoebe and Poe have an Instagram account. Follow the cats.