Monday, September 29, 2008
Another Sunday market
Best Sunday farmer's market is the one in Ballard, a short bus ride or longish walk away.
Yesterday it was crowded with people enjoying the sunshine and the abundant produce. Among my favorite stands are the cheese makers (especially the one that features small fat drum-shaped crottons of fresh chèvre, plain or herb-crusted.)
Vegetables were definitely the stars yesterday. Here is one I had never seen before - a white eggplant.
And what better picture subjects can you find than tomatoes and peppers?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
And it looked like a thousand ...
I admit to exaggerating. According to Z., surveying the stage from her place in the Chorale, there were only 400 + musicians on stage for last night's Seattle Symphony performance of Mahler's 8th, also known as the Symphony of 1000. (Besides the Symphony and the chorale, another adult choir, a boy choir and extra musicians in almost every section of the orchestra took part.)
Also included: four trumpets and four trombones stationed in a left front box in McCaw Hall, adding their volume at two points in the 85-minute work. (No intermission, so pre-performance lines in the WC were formidable!)
At times volume was ear-shattering, but the piannissimi were as passionately intense, and the audience was as attentive as any I have ever seen at a concert. It was a treat to hear some long-time Seattle Opera singers among the eight soloists, especially Vinson Cole and Jane Eaglen.
Z's sister was here from the East Coast, enjoying Seattle's sudden return to sunshine and warmth. L. took the evening off from settling into her new home on Vashon to join us for dinner and the concert.
Friday night we we paid her a visit at work, as we crowded around a tiny table at Txori. It's her last Friday evening shift for a while, so we weren't the only friends and family to stop by to eat and say a quick hello. Txori features small plates and piquant combinations of flavors. As a starter, L. sent us a plate of small slices of soft ripe goat cheese with a few slices of sautéed apple. From there we managed our own orders to a point, then said to the waiter, "Please ask L. what else we need."
That brought out dessert - a miniature orange-saffron flan and a two-bite dish of chocolate mousse, sprinkled with a few hot pepper flakes.
If there's really an economic downturn coming, no one in Belltown seems worried. On Friday night the restaurant was packed with the young and glamorous, and when we later walked Z's sister back to her downtown hotel, we had to weave through sidewalk crowds. Every cafe with outside tables was full, and a popular small bar had a pileup of people at the door, hoping to find a place inside.
(In reference to the previous post, I'm now cranky with Obama for picking up the "Main Street" tag. But I am still cheering him on.)
Also included: four trumpets and four trombones stationed in a left front box in McCaw Hall, adding their volume at two points in the 85-minute work. (No intermission, so pre-performance lines in the WC were formidable!)
At times volume was ear-shattering, but the piannissimi were as passionately intense, and the audience was as attentive as any I have ever seen at a concert. It was a treat to hear some long-time Seattle Opera singers among the eight soloists, especially Vinson Cole and Jane Eaglen.
Z's sister was here from the East Coast, enjoying Seattle's sudden return to sunshine and warmth. L. took the evening off from settling into her new home on Vashon to join us for dinner and the concert.
Friday night we we paid her a visit at work, as we crowded around a tiny table at Txori. It's her last Friday evening shift for a while, so we weren't the only friends and family to stop by to eat and say a quick hello. Txori features small plates and piquant combinations of flavors. As a starter, L. sent us a plate of small slices of soft ripe goat cheese with a few slices of sautéed apple. From there we managed our own orders to a point, then said to the waiter, "Please ask L. what else we need."
That brought out dessert - a miniature orange-saffron flan and a two-bite dish of chocolate mousse, sprinkled with a few hot pepper flakes.
If there's really an economic downturn coming, no one in Belltown seems worried. On Friday night the restaurant was packed with the young and glamorous, and when we later walked Z's sister back to her downtown hotel, we had to weave through sidewalk crowds. Every cafe with outside tables was full, and a popular small bar had a pileup of people at the door, hoping to find a place inside.
(In reference to the previous post, I'm now cranky with Obama for picking up the "Main Street" tag. But I am still cheering him on.)
Thursday, September 25, 2008
What am I doing right now?
Recently, prompted by curiosity, I joined Facebook. So far I've done nothing more to my page than post a couple of short notes and check from time to time to see what Facebook friends (mostly people met through my children) are doing.
Quirkiest thing about Facebook is a box at the top of the page that says, "What are you doing right now?" You can post an update, an observation, a reminder, a reaction, long or short.
"Throwing her hands up in the air as if she doesn't care," is the latest note from one friend, the mother of two lively, intelligent children under 5. Perfectly understandable.
What I'm doing right now is trying to work out why this week's constant iteration of "Wall Street vs. Main Street" irritates me so much, especially when it comes from John McCain.
Part of it is McCain's phony folksiness, his shameless pandering to any group that will help him get elected.
Only a person completely out of touch with contemporary America actually believes "Main Street" still exists, outside of Disneyland.
Let me expand. Once, every town, no matter how small or remote, had a business center - a downtown. Washtucna had a mercantile, a grain elevator, a post office and a drugstore. Wilson Creek had a square-built bank, and several stores. (Washtucna is on the way to Benge and Endicott. Wilson Creek is halfway between Stratford and Marlin. You need a good map.)
Moscow, Idaho, where I grew up, had a flourishing business district, as it was central shopping for the region's prosperous farms and smaller communities. Main Street offered three department stores, two drugstores, a men's store, a women's store, a sporting goods store, two flower shops, two or three cafes, a Chinese restaurant, a book and paper goods store, a furniture store, the state liquor store, a travel agency and at least two real estate offices. You could buy meat, office supplies, shoes, cosmetics, fabric and patterns, mail a letter, pay the electric bill - all within a few blocks.
Little towns lost their business districts to the automobile and population shifts. Bigger places, like Moscow, fell victim to the mall, which sucked major stores away from town centers.
Because it is a university town, Moscow still has a Main Street, of sorts. The largest department store long ago turned into a very dubious club, the book and paper goods store is now the University art gallery, the men's store is a coffee house, as is one of the former flower shops. There is a good book store, and a cafe I remember from high school days is still doing business in its familiar location. The Chinese restaurant never moved or remodeled - the owners have just updated the kitchen equipment and put fresh varnish on the vintage wooden booths and paneling. (The food is good, too.)
It's not bad - just different, and a bit frustrating if you want more than ephemeral fashion, a meal or a cup of coffee. It's also livelier, on most days, than either of the two malls that mushroomed out of former wheat fields sometime in the late 60's. Siphoning business from both malls is Wal-Mart, still further out of town - another familiar story.
So - Main Street, as the mythmakers imagine it, is gone. As a reaction to malls, old downtowns have developed new ways to attract visitors, and one very healthy development is the weekly farmers/crafts market. Old hotels become residences, and small businesses hang on. The tiny towns will never come back, but mid-size places - especially small university towns - remain attractive.
But I still want Republican politicians to stop going on about "Main Street" (unless they are prepared to spend money for infrastructure and education improvement.)
So far, that only happens at Disneyland.
Quirkiest thing about Facebook is a box at the top of the page that says, "What are you doing right now?" You can post an update, an observation, a reminder, a reaction, long or short.
"Throwing her hands up in the air as if she doesn't care," is the latest note from one friend, the mother of two lively, intelligent children under 5. Perfectly understandable.
What I'm doing right now is trying to work out why this week's constant iteration of "Wall Street vs. Main Street" irritates me so much, especially when it comes from John McCain.
Part of it is McCain's phony folksiness, his shameless pandering to any group that will help him get elected.
Only a person completely out of touch with contemporary America actually believes "Main Street" still exists, outside of Disneyland.
Let me expand. Once, every town, no matter how small or remote, had a business center - a downtown. Washtucna had a mercantile, a grain elevator, a post office and a drugstore. Wilson Creek had a square-built bank, and several stores. (Washtucna is on the way to Benge and Endicott. Wilson Creek is halfway between Stratford and Marlin. You need a good map.)
Moscow, Idaho, where I grew up, had a flourishing business district, as it was central shopping for the region's prosperous farms and smaller communities. Main Street offered three department stores, two drugstores, a men's store, a women's store, a sporting goods store, two flower shops, two or three cafes, a Chinese restaurant, a book and paper goods store, a furniture store, the state liquor store, a travel agency and at least two real estate offices. You could buy meat, office supplies, shoes, cosmetics, fabric and patterns, mail a letter, pay the electric bill - all within a few blocks.
Little towns lost their business districts to the automobile and population shifts. Bigger places, like Moscow, fell victim to the mall, which sucked major stores away from town centers.
Because it is a university town, Moscow still has a Main Street, of sorts. The largest department store long ago turned into a very dubious club, the book and paper goods store is now the University art gallery, the men's store is a coffee house, as is one of the former flower shops. There is a good book store, and a cafe I remember from high school days is still doing business in its familiar location. The Chinese restaurant never moved or remodeled - the owners have just updated the kitchen equipment and put fresh varnish on the vintage wooden booths and paneling. (The food is good, too.)
It's not bad - just different, and a bit frustrating if you want more than ephemeral fashion, a meal or a cup of coffee. It's also livelier, on most days, than either of the two malls that mushroomed out of former wheat fields sometime in the late 60's. Siphoning business from both malls is Wal-Mart, still further out of town - another familiar story.
So - Main Street, as the mythmakers imagine it, is gone. As a reaction to malls, old downtowns have developed new ways to attract visitors, and one very healthy development is the weekly farmers/crafts market. Old hotels become residences, and small businesses hang on. The tiny towns will never come back, but mid-size places - especially small university towns - remain attractive.
But I still want Republican politicians to stop going on about "Main Street" (unless they are prepared to spend money for infrastructure and education improvement.)
So far, that only happens at Disneyland.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Closer to the end of summer...
It was bound to happen (I like the French for this: "ça devait arrivé.) Late last week, gray cold weather returned, and yesterday we got rain. Today was mostly clear (fortunately for the Fremont Octoberfest) but serious rain returned tonight.
No pictures, unless I add this one, of the three buildings just below here, so heavily wrapped in plastic that they resemble tents put up for some colossal event. (This picture is from last weekend - now you see nothing but yards and yards of white.)
Under the plastic each building is having a completely new outer layer applied. Reason is the same old thing - dryvit, an artificial stucco. See this for some of the gory details.
My building is ALSO faced with dryvit, but so far (another great French expression here - "porvu que ça dure" - meaning, roughly, "let's hope we keep dodging this bullet,") we've escaped a major resurfacing. (We did have a falling tree that wiped out a couple of balconies, but that is another story.)
For something completely different, if you're an archaeology fancier, check out this blog.
And did you know there is a Facebook group called, "I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin"?
No pictures, unless I add this one, of the three buildings just below here, so heavily wrapped in plastic that they resemble tents put up for some colossal event. (This picture is from last weekend - now you see nothing but yards and yards of white.)
Under the plastic each building is having a completely new outer layer applied. Reason is the same old thing - dryvit, an artificial stucco. See this for some of the gory details.
My building is ALSO faced with dryvit, but so far (another great French expression here - "porvu que ça dure" - meaning, roughly, "let's hope we keep dodging this bullet,") we've escaped a major resurfacing. (We did have a falling tree that wiped out a couple of balconies, but that is another story.)
For something completely different, if you're an archaeology fancier, check out this blog.
And did you know there is a Facebook group called, "I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin"?
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Difficulties about the moon ...
All I wanted was a picture of the lovely, almost-full moon rising over the lake. The result is not so spectacular as the original (the eye reads the moon as MUCH larger than it appears here) but it's a record, of sorts.
Our warm late summer continues. This afternoon a couple of my neighbors ushered at a sparsely-attended production of a new, somewhat impenetrable, play. They agreed it was much more interesting to talk about afterwards, over wine on the deck. On evenings like this, no one wants to go in, because soon enough there will be little incentive to sit outside.
Weather is perfect for the boat show this weekend, and for all the activities at the Center for Wooden Boats.
The center is adjacent to the new park at the foot of Lake Union, which incorporates a former Navy facility (including the armory.)
There is plenty of dock space for boats of all sizes - including my favorite, the Virginia V. She's a steamship, last of the so-called "Mosquito Fleet" that used to carry passengers all over Puget Sound, now restored and available for charter. The distinctive blast of her whistle punctuates summer weekends.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Not quite the end of summer ...
About halfway through Labor Day weekend, summer returned for a brief encore here in the NW corner.
All the better to observe a convergence of birthdays and anniversaries, most of them happy.
Best place for this is Vashon, where last weekend my son celebrated his 40th. Although I lost track of just how many friends filtered through the cabin during the weekend, I do know we set 17 places for Sunday night's dinner. Guests ranged in age from 3 weeks on up. Nice to have a couple of 8-year olds running in and out, taking semi-supervised outings to the beach below the house ("Stay where we can see you!") and returning with handfuls of shells and "really interesting" stones. Puzzles and games that have been on the shelves for 30-plus years still have power to attract, even when a TV and videos are available.
(Thanks to Mary for the pictures!)
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Patriotic interlude ...
Playing tourist in your own city is always fun, especially when you can reach some really nice places on public transportation.
Today I went to West Seattle, specifically Alki Beach, where a reduced-scale replica of the Statue of Liberty was unveiled as part of a community festival.
The statue was first erected in 1952, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the arrival of the Denny Party, first European settlers in Seattle. Boy Scouts and Sea Scouts raised money for the original statue, and they were present in force for today's celebration. Very important to the effort to recast and remount the statue was a man who took part in the original ceremony when he was a Scout. Today these Cub Scouts were intent on their beach catapult, lobbing small water-filled plastic bags at the troop members in the canoe! It was definitely a sanctioned activity - the bags were small, not many reached the canoe, and the cubs no doubt learned many valuable skills while building the catapult!
Near the beach, a wedding party drifted here and there. "We've lost our photographer," said the bridesmaids I met along the walk.
"We can't go on the beach," they said to the little girls. "We have pretty shoes on."
Because they were so decorative, I offered to take their picture.
And since this is Seattle, and a public occasion, and a lovely day, a troupe of cyclists wearing nothing much more than body paint and helmets whizzed by the crowd, drawing a few cheers (and a bit of eye-rolling.)
More about West Seattle here.
Today I went to West Seattle, specifically Alki Beach, where a reduced-scale replica of the Statue of Liberty was unveiled as part of a community festival.
The statue was first erected in 1952, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the arrival of the Denny Party, first European settlers in Seattle. Boy Scouts and Sea Scouts raised money for the original statue, and they were present in force for today's celebration. Very important to the effort to recast and remount the statue was a man who took part in the original ceremony when he was a Scout. Today these Cub Scouts were intent on their beach catapult, lobbing small water-filled plastic bags at the troop members in the canoe! It was definitely a sanctioned activity - the bags were small, not many reached the canoe, and the cubs no doubt learned many valuable skills while building the catapult!
Near the beach, a wedding party drifted here and there. "We've lost our photographer," said the bridesmaids I met along the walk.
"We can't go on the beach," they said to the little girls. "We have pretty shoes on."
Because they were so decorative, I offered to take their picture.
And since this is Seattle, and a public occasion, and a lovely day, a troupe of cyclists wearing nothing much more than body paint and helmets whizzed by the crowd, drawing a few cheers (and a bit of eye-rolling.)
More about West Seattle here.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Is it November 5 yet?
I'm sorry, but this, the longest campaign on record, is beginning to lose me. Of course I'll vote, but until then could we please have some conversation about the real problems facing the country, as opposed to mindless shouts of "USA! USA!" Not to mention tiptoeing around the Republicans' VP choice because she is a woman. Any woman who refers to herself as a pit bull should be prepared for newspaper interviews, at the very least.
All week I've taken advantage of HD radio to avoid convention broadcasts. (What - it was on TV too? Amazing.) But last night, returning from choir practice, I flipped on the car radio, just in time to hear JM shouting above the roaring crowd, "Stand up and fight! Stand up and fight!" Commentators said other parts of the speech were offered to an audience almost reverently silent, but you cannot prove that by me.
Is this America 2008 or Germany 1933?
Earlier this week NPR flashed back to the 1964 Republican convention, and Barry Goldwater's famous assertion that "extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice..." Etc.
That summer I worked in SF, for a small film company. Our cadre of free-lance cameramen - all WWII vets, all passionate New Deal Democrats - worked the convention, and their unanimous opinion, after a week of listening to the rhetoric and being pushed around by overly zealous security people, was, "This is America's Munich."
All week I've taken advantage of HD radio to avoid convention broadcasts. (What - it was on TV too? Amazing.) But last night, returning from choir practice, I flipped on the car radio, just in time to hear JM shouting above the roaring crowd, "Stand up and fight! Stand up and fight!" Commentators said other parts of the speech were offered to an audience almost reverently silent, but you cannot prove that by me.
Is this America 2008 or Germany 1933?
Earlier this week NPR flashed back to the 1964 Republican convention, and Barry Goldwater's famous assertion that "extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice..." Etc.
That summer I worked in SF, for a small film company. Our cadre of free-lance cameramen - all WWII vets, all passionate New Deal Democrats - worked the convention, and their unanimous opinion, after a week of listening to the rhetoric and being pushed around by overly zealous security people, was, "This is America's Munich."
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