Hello Madrid!!!

I have heard that you know you've got good compost when you can get the pile to steam. Well I am hoping for that. Just a little steam would be nice. Really I am just hoping that everything I throw into the bin breaks down into that fertile "black gold".

What excites me the most about this bin I made is that the only thing I had to buy was a box of wood strews. Everything else I found. I still need to put a lid on it though.

the front balcony i have been patiently waiting all winter to inhabit is now more inviting than ever.

a book i have been inching my way though is opened in front of me.

spiced tea is slowly cooling down in a blue ceramic mug given to me by my parents.

the helm of a ship is imprinted on it.

the sun is low but rising.

and i can feel its warmth on my back, but my fingers are still a little cold.

it reminds me of mornings it florida.

the cool nights melting away under the rising sun.

you can just tell its going to be a beautiful day.

have you ever heard someone say that god is not a vending machine? i have. several times. while i'm sure there are great benefits to teaching/preaching that sort of analogy i've noticed that sometimes when i pray i get a guilty feeling when i think i am asking too much. is it really possible to ask too much of god? i've started to wonder about this when i listen to my wife pray. she's pretty amazing by the way. you see, she believes that god cares about the little odd details of our lives. she believes he cares about getting a good grade on a test, getting a date, or scoring a goal in the big game just as much as helping people in haiti or freeing slaves in the sex trade. so when i am feeling like i am asking too much she is busy asking. and its beautiful. freeing. she has taught me that god does not grow weary of us or is limited in what he can accomplish. to her god is fully involved in our lives and is the one she can fully trust to accomplish anything. so she asks. like a simple conversation. she just asks. she knows in whom she believes so she asks. i love it. some days i feel like my prayers are so formulaic. first you adore, then confess, then thank, and then there's the supplication. in that order respectively. but with her there is no formula. it just a friendship. no analogy or acronym. she just talks with god. i want to do the same.

almost twenty years have passed but i still just can't help feeling proud of the new ride.


2010, age 28.


1991, age 10.

recently a building was completed and now stands as the tallest in the world. it's an impressive feat of engineering. i'm sure some praises are due. but with all the forethought and skill required to make something like this stand i've never really been impressed by this particular architecture. to build something tall for the sake of building something tall seems a bit arrogant and tacky. i wonder how this building addresses the environment? how does it address the community? a structure built on the backs of slaves by a country now in a tremendous amount of debt. i cannot seem to understand the appeal. the allure to this architectural culture.

but the other day something happened. something switched on. or off. i'm not sure yet. it felt almost like a chill running down my spine. it was subtle but it was enough to get my attention. it happened while i was downtown. i was noticing the city skyline. how suddenly uninteresting it appeared to me. the lack of impressive architecture. of tall architecture. i began to resent the thought that buildings have remained a certain height so the homes on the west hills could maintain their view of mount hood. for a moment i had an unfamiliar lust for the built form. like howard roark in the fountainhead. i wanted to see massive and impressive buildings. buildings that expressed both power, beauty, and progress. in a city noted for being so creative it sure wasn't represented in its architecture.

and then the chill left and i couldn't help but smile. i felt like i was beginning to understand why tall buildings are built.

tonights menu:

salmon burgers with brown sugar, dried chilies, and bacon
asparagus drizzled with a dijon vinaigrette
raison D'etre ale brewed by dogfish head

i'm pretty excited about this one because the only thing i had to buy to make this happen was the beer and asparagus.
there's pretty much a huge party in my mouth right now.

i'm a bachelor tonight.
mish is at the coast with some friends.
i'm happy for her.
i'm glad she gets to head out there for the night.
its just me and the har-man now.
so whats on the to do list:
wax snowboard
write thank you cards
stain wood frame for vegetable garden
fill out scholarship applications
make chicken curry dish (mish got me a jamie oliver cookbook that i've been stewing over now.
tonight i made a chicken korma curry dish. it was pretty tasty but not nearly as spicy as i was hoping it to be.)
laundry
clean house
drink a nice brew from hopworks brewery
watch some simpsons
wash the dishes in the sink.
maybe get to some homework if i have time.

i think that about covers it.

last night i was sitting in my building systems class listening to a lecture on foundations. you know stem walls and footings and things of that sort. and i started thinking about foundations in a more relational way. i started thinking about stability and about the things that foster or prevent it. and i began to think about how we so often chase after things that bring instability. that cause anxiousness or worry. my professor kept talking about certain issues builders run into during the initial building process. he said its hard to convince home owners to spend a little extra on soil test, structural engineers, etc. when people really just want the money to go towards kitchen counter tops or hardwood floors. then i thought about how this can sometimes be a reflection of our relationships with others. how most often we want to skip over the laborious part because it seems difficult or boring. i don't know. i think multiple thoughts are beginning to collide here and I want to avoid that. it just makes my heart heavy when we opt for things that bring instability.

some think of it as the element that corrodes their car. strips the paint off their home or burns their eyes. but for me it does much to purify my lungs. to assuage my soul. to me the sea teems of life and it's contagious. I need to be near it. to breath it in. to hear it. it brings me life.

garden state of mind...

A recent email has gotten me thinking and reminiscing a little bit. About what? Well...

I remember the house in bridgewater. A house thats held the same name for over 4 decades. I remember the long drive up the gravel driveway that ran beside the house. Anxious to see my Grandparents. I remember stepping out of the car and immediately enveloped by the scent of pine. I remember an awkward little traffic cone that sat in the middle of the backyard. I remember seeing deer in the backyard. Building snow forts in the backyard. I remember we never used the front door. Never. In fact, for the longest time I'm not sure I knew my grandparents had one. We always came in through the door by the garage. My Grandpa would scramble to punch in the alarm code while we squeezed by with our luggage.
I remember the den which seems to be where we spent most of our time. The rifle on the wood paneled wall. The antlers above the fire place and a little machine by the tv that just rewound vhs. I remember playing with my dad's gi joes and hess trucks on the furry area rug. Grandpa snoring in his recliner. I remember NIck at Night (we didn't have cable growing up) and getting up early to watch Nick jr.
I remember hearty breakfasts that would start with my sisters and I reluctantly eating a bowl of fruit my Grandmother had so selflessly prepared. I say reluctantly because we had to in order to get to the crumb cake and cornmeal muffins. Once we were done pushing our fruit around the bowl it was go time. I think breakfast might be my Grandfathers favorite meal. He always seemed to have such a commanding presence at the table. He sat in the same place every time. To his right sat the toaster oven and microwave. Directly in front of him sat the cutting board. And on this cutting board lay a slab of Hackensack, New Jersey's finest. The B&W Bakery's crumb cake in all its glory. We placed our orders with Grandpa. A buttered cornmeal muffin here. A slice of the crumb cake there. Grandpa was so fluid, so seasoned, so flawless. A true master.
After breakfast I remember spending hours in the basement. A mysterious accessory to us native texas kids but a common occurrence in the design of northeastern home. In the basement we were pool sharks or kings of ping pong. Table hockey junkies or just spectators. I remember the basement being divided somewhat naturally into a place to play and they place where the "monsters" lived. You would always turn right at the bottom of the stairs. A right turn led to the pool table. A turn left would lead you to the ill lit half of the basement scattered with bulky tools, shadows and inevitably monsters. I always tuned right. I remember there being a freezer down in the basement that stored the famous crumb cakes. I would always make it my responsibility to check the inventory of frozen cakes. Leaving the basement was always a rush. With the way the light switches were fixed you had to make sure all the lights were out except for one remaining light near the stairs. I remember switching one light off and then the next. The basement slowly disappearing into a damp dark void. Till one little bulb remained at the bottom of the stairs. Then I'd burst up the stairs as fast as I could so the monster couldn't catch me. Switch the last light off and close the door behind me.
I remember lying awake in bed christmas eve night. I was alone in what was once my uncle jim's childhood room. I remember getting up and tip toeing to the window. You had to tip toe at night because of those creaky wooden floors. I looked out the window. Snow. White flakes swirled in the flood light perched by the garage. So vivid against the black backdrop of the winter night sky. Tomorrow would be a white christmas.
I remember coming down the stairs on christmas day. The living room filled with family and presents. I remember tins of cookies and cabinets filled with candy bars. I remember a dining room table that some nights stretched into the living room. Surrounded by family. Reverend Bob would say grace.
I remember a forest that back my parents house. When I was little the forest went deep. There was no promise of return if we ventured out too far. The risk was always worth it. As I got older the forest grew smaller. I soon discovered that our exploring really only took us from one neighbors backyard to the next. Still it was nature. It was quiet. I remember going sledding down a hill my dad used to sled down when he was younger. I remember standing at the top of the hill and he would show me how far they used to be able to ride.
I remember catching lightning bugs. I remember having a toothbrush with my name on it. We all had toothbrushes with our names on them. I remember day trips to the city. All the bedrooms upstairs. Old photos of my parents, aunts and uncles. The house always felt so warm. As a grandparent's house should.

As I type this my Grandparents have now recently moved from the house in New Jersey to live closer to family in Massachusetts. Hence the long reminiscent blog on the house in bridgewater. I have nothing but good memories from that place. I am blessed to have had those experiences. It's sad to think I will probably never go back there and that the house will hold someone else's name. I hope their experiences there will be just as good as mine.

When Fridays become Mondays…

Working retail can have its benefits.
Like getting a day off in the middle of the week.
A day which I used to go snowboarding with a friend of mine.
We were able to avoid the weekend crowds.
Park up close.
No lift lines.
The park was ours.

But working retail can also have its disadvantages.
Like having a day off in the middle of the week.
I’ve been getting Wednesday and Thursday off lately.
Which hasn’t been all that bad except that having a schedule like this messes with a normal week.
My Wednesday and Thursday become my Saturday and Sunday.
And well my Fridays become my Mondays.

So here I am on a Friday night at the start of my week.
I opened this morning at peets and I’ll open again tomorrow.
That means a 4:30am wake up call.
So I’ll stay in tonight.
Like most “Monday” nights.
I got a good deal on a food chopper at fred meyer and I’ve attempted a few hummas recipes.
I rode my bike over to the Belmont station and picked up a brown ale brewed by a brewery I kind of like.
Played guitar and read.
In bed by ten.
Not bad for a Monday I mean Friday night.

when beggars become choosers…

(I’ve just over steeped my chai tea for the second time.)

Last night mish and I hit up the bagdad restaurant and pub.
Its become our favorite nothing-else-is-open-right-now-and-I’m-really-hungry place to go.
It’s only a couple blocks from our place so we put our shoes and jackets on and headed out the door.
Bagdad sits on the corner of 37th and hawthorne.
Last night also sitting on the corner of 37th and hawthorne is Arthur.
Arthur has been walking along the street of hawthorne much longer than I have.
He carries an old acoustic and will play you a song for spare change.
If tipped he replies very humbly “blessings”.
I don’t know too much about Arthur.
if he has a home, job, family friends.
I know he likes to play a mix of punk and jazz.
He listens to a little bit of everything.
And when tipped he replies “blessings’
Mish and I are now standing on the corner of 37th and hawthorne.
With out even looking up from where he was sitting Arthur asks if we could spare some change for a song.
I told him we were heading into bagdad and I asked him if we could get him something to eat.
He said yes but to my surprise he made a little request when I asked what he would like.
Some hummas maybe or something vegetarian. Just nothing with eggs.
Okay.
I got him the hummas plate.
I was kind of tickled by that.
Only in Portland will the people on the street request a vegetarian meal.
I brought the meal out to him and without looking up he said “blessings”
blessings

so this is the new year...

I think its hard to not make resolutions.
Even if they’re just short and simple or a little vague.
Like saying you’re going to start eating better.
There’s just something about the new year that sort of begs change.
Or improvement.
I’m trying to be more intentional this year.
Intentional with my time.
Intentional with my wife, my walk, my friends.
Intentional with my thoughts.
Intentional at work.

With all that being said we are twelve days into the new year and I’ve finally gotten around to doing a few things I’ve been putting off.
Today I went for a run around the neighborhood.
There was a break in the rain clouds and the sun peeked through so I laced up the running shoes for the first time since we’ve moved to Portland.
Just a quick jog through Laurelhurst park and then back home.
I don’t feel it now but I’ve sure tomorrow will remind me of how long it’s been since I’ve been running.

I also began knitting today.
Mish got me some needles and yarn for Christmas.
If I can figure this out everyone is getting scarves next Christmas.

winter ale anyone?




i think mish and i will be getting a little radio soon so we can join the ranks of NPR listeners.
I'm currently getting my news from the local patrons of peets coffee and tea and did you know that there was a hurricane off the coast of oregon this weekend.
well, at least thats what they said.
but despite the gale force finds i had a pretty good weekend.
it started friday night with christmas card making.
mish's new job has tons of cool paper and great craft ideas so we've been taking advantage of what they have to offer.
i worked saturday morning but afterwards i took the bus downtown with jay and megs to the holiday ale festival.
we tasted a few brews.
some good, some not so good.
i bet you can't tell me how many BTUs are in the Sinterklaas.
after the festival we had dinner at that portland city grille.
the happy hour is really cheap and the view of downtown from the restaurant on the 30th floor is amazing.
our next plan was to catch the bus back home.
but the bus wasn't going to arrive for another ten minutes.
it was too cold to stand around so we hiked some 30 blocks in the rain back to jay and megs apartment.
we did manage to make a stop a voodoo donuts on the way back.
yum.

i'm learning that despite the rain the normal every day activities still go on.
i felt like such a portlander today when i jumped on the old bike and trekked across town for a work meeting.
it was a six mile round trip in the rain.
what's cool is that you can show up smelling like a wet dog and that's ok.
nobody cares.
however i think i might be investing in some rain pants soon.
jeans just don't dry very fast.

my walk to work takes less than five minutes.
it's something like three or four blocks.
but in that short stroll i've been asked so many different things by different people.
some of which include

do you have spare change
do you have time to talk about mercy corp
do you care about polar bears.
do you want some good weed
do you want to legalize weed
do you want to support our basketball team
do you have the time
did you vote
do you have a smoke
do you have a light
would you like to buy the homeless newspaper
do you want to toke up
would you like to buy this guitar
(i'm told its a classic)
do you have a light
do you have a light
do you have a light


most days i have to say no.

i'm excited for two reasons.
well, maybe more.
but two of them are because my mother-in-law is coming in this week
and, because she is, we are all going to make the pilgrimage to the mecca downtown that is Powell's Bookstore.
there is a powells a few blocks away from where we live but you don't need a map to navigate it.
i'm pretty excited.
i'm going with a list.
maybe mccarthy's no country for old men
or the omnivore's dilemma.
i'm really in need of a good book.
got any suggestions?

coffee 101...

today i went to a coffee class for peets.
we talked about what coffee is.
where it comes from.
we tasted different kinds from different growing regions.
slurped them down and used descriptive words like

toasty
wild
biscuity
buttery
fruity
clean
bold
and
balanced

after three hours of sippin my hands where shakin.

i'm really enjoying my job.

i've decided that i really shouldn't be drinking an 8 cup presspot of coffee on my own.
i've also decided that eggnog is not for lattes.
it looks good on paper but we need to seriously rethink that.
have you ever tried to steam eggnog for a latte?
i came home this morning from work with bits of nog in my hair.
this holiday i will take mine cold thank you.
with a little rum.

mish and i rented the wendell baker story this weekend.
it had all the wilson brothers present and accounted for.
kind of seemed like a bottle rocket reunion of sorts .
but not really.
not nearly as witty.
but the movie takes place in austin and i think watching it made me actually miss texas a little.
of coarse i miss my family and friends like crazy but i hadn't missed texas all that much.
until this weekend.
i got to admit that there is a little bit of pride in my voice when i tell someone i've moved here from texas.


mish is out helping a friend tonight paint some walls in their basement which is in the process of being finished out.
i'll be heading to work in a little while for our holiday meeting where i will be presenting this years holiday blend.
exciting.
it is sort of embarrassing how bad some of us nerd out on coffee.
you should hear some of the things my co-workers say.
some of the things i now say.
its crazy.

i'm a sucker for gyros.
they're the perfect sandwich.
the sauce, the seasoned meat, the pita.
it's all amazing.
so when we found out that the greek orthodox church nearby was having a festival we just had to go.
we had a good time.
watched some students in the church youth group do some traditional greek dances.
we exchanged our dollar bills for some talents and bought gyros and greek pastries.
i think the highlight of the night was the big banner that said that alcoholic beverages are not permited off church property.
that made us all smile.
a microbrew was only 5 talents.

i've had to work most of the weekend.
it's the morning shift though which is nice because i'm done by 1pm.
sunday afternoon mish and i caught a free movie at the bagdad theater.
we keep hitting up the deals.

i just got promoted to a shift lead at work.
pretty exciting.
moving on up.