I read a nice little post on The Blue Hour a few days ago that made me think. It was called “Where I’m At” (thus the name of this post) and was just kind of about sitting back and taking stock. One of the great things about blogging is the immediacy of it: you write something and you publish it and people read it right away. But so often, we’re always making sweeping statements about the seasons, upcoming holidays, food trends, or traditions. Today that’s not going to happen.
There are lots of leaves in the driveway and pacing dogs in the kitchen. I’m waiting for the mailman.
I’m feeling a little restless with a too-long to-do list.
Gearing up for Thanksgiving in New York. Trying to dig my fall sweaters out of storage and figure out a time to get my bangs trimmed. And drinking lots of milky earl gray tea.
I’m craving nachos something fierce lately.
I just bought a new pair of boots I adore.
I’m trying to let the holidays wash over me and take from them what makes me happy, leaving the rest far behind.
In a few days, I’ll accompany my friend to get her nose pierced in the city and buy a crate of apples at the farmer’s market.
I have a little secret I really want to share with you but I can’t quite yet. Soon though. Very soon.
That’s where I’m at.
And while I sit and take stock right here right now, I made myself a large glass of shandy (or shandygaff), my new love. I had a ball jar full of house shandy at Farmer Brown restaurant in downtown San Francisco the other night and rushed right out to buy some ginger beer the next day. Now, I’ve got shandy on my mind. To make it at home, just experiment with a lighter beer that you love and either ginger beer, cider, or a citrusey soda. For my shandy’s I happen to like Bundaberg ginger beer. A lot. I suggest a big ball jar and a spin around the neighborhood before the leaves all drop. And check out Brian’s post when you have a second.
Mix ginger beer and beer together and garnish with lemon wedge. Drink slowly on a Wednesday afternoon–or any day that calls for shandy.
Something funny happens when you live with someone instead of dating them from afar. You learn little nuances about each other's behavior, see the bottom-of-the-barrel sweaters, take out the trash, and buy underwear and shampoo together. Sam calls my beloved furry slippers old lady slippers and, to be fair, they kind of are. And I've become well acquainted with his holey "sick sweater," his eagerness to retrieve the mail in the early afternoon, and his uncanny ability to drink more tea than anyone I've ever known. Also, I'm learning things about myself. Like the fact that, apparently, most people don't eat a whole grapefruit when they sit down for breakfast. According to Sam, they stop at a half.
Waffles. I don't make them often enough and I'm not sure why. Oh, wait: I am sure why. Because they always seem like kind of a slow, slumbery, Sunday thing to make and I rarely have those kind of mornings--even on Sundays. But I found a recipe I've fallen pretty hard for. It's an old-fashioned waffle recipe and you make the yeasted batter in advance, put it in the fridge for 12-24 hours, and it's ready to go in the morning. I've actually kept the batter in my fridge for a few days and just pull it out, put a scoop on the waffle iron, and have a warm waffle to take in the car on the way to work. Beats a granola bar or banana any day.
The early morning view from our hotel Hi from Shanghai! I'm sitting here stealing a bit of Internet on the 32nd floor of our hotel all too early in the morning. The sun's gleaming in through the curtains, horns are starting to honk below, and I'm clutching a steaming cup of strong coffee that Walter has so kindly prepared for me. Walter's the dining room attendant and, for the lone souls who can't seem to sleep much in Shanghai (I being one of them), he'll make you one mean cup of coffee at sunrise. I have so much to share with you: photos & stories. The World Expo was really incredible, the food's been amazing, the streets are lush with leafy trees and wide-open city parks. I've discovered dragon fruit and boiled peanuts, and learned that scooters and bicyclysits don't adhere to traffic laws. We've finally figured out how to say common phrases like "thank you" properly and are logging some serious miles in our Converse.
I am officially on maternity leave and it feels stranger than I'd imagined. I thought it'd be all about catching up on novels, leisurely baking and maybe sewing a little something for Sprout. Going on lots of walks with friends and out to lunch. The reality is that most people are working during the week and can't just sneak away for lunch dates, and sitting around the house aimlessly reading seems to make me antsy. Instead, I find myself deciding that certain tasks have immense and immediate purpose (when they never seemed to before): repotting our house plants, researching new insurance plans, and planning a new product line for Marge for 2016. In the midst of all of this though, I've found some time to catch up on Netflix movies (any recommendations?), went out to Lebanese food with Sam, and finally made it to a cafe on Capital Hill I've been wanting to try for quite some time. It's gotten a bit chilly in Seattle this week so I've been making lots of cider and chai in the afternoons for an energy boost, and there certainly doesn't seem to be a shortage of soup-making or baking -- which brings me to these not-too-sweet, protein-packed blondies that I've taken quite a liking to.
There are some things you don't question or plan for. They're the things that just happen, that unfold throughout the day or week or month. The things we don't always document or discuss because they don't really seem important enough, but that -- all the same -- so often bring us together in one way or another. Patterns or obsessions or phases. Late-night online shoe shopping. Permission to nap at odd hours. Spontaneous cell-phone photo exchanges. Maybe you can relate. Maybe lately you've been doing something similar. As you do. As we do.