Helsinki!

one week from today

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

Marmitetoasty wrote in and said it's so cold in the UK she needs a good cup of hot soup. Okay. We aim to please.

For Mel

1 lovely big ham hock

1 lb. split peas

2 qts. water

6 carrots, diced finely

1 large onion, diced finely

6 stalks celery, diced finely

Thoroughly wash peas and combine all ingredients in a slow cooker. Season liberally. Cook on low for 24 hours. Guaranteed to please.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

I've been asked to post my gazpacho recipe because it's just the thing for these hot July nights. If I remember, I do not puree the cilantro and parsley, but stir them in before chilling because the gazpacho then retains its beautiful red color.


GAZPACHO
for the tomato days of summer


3 1/2 cups tomato juice

8 plum tomatoes, seeded, cut into 1/4 inch pieces

1 English cucumber, cut into 1/4 inch pieces

1 red bell pepper, cut ino 1/4 inch pieces

1 medium onion, chopped

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

3 T fresh lemon juice

1 green onion, chopped

1 1/2 t minced seeded jalapeno chili

2 cloves garlic, minced


Combine 1 cup tomato juice, half of tomatoes, half of cucumber, and half of bell pepper in blender. Puree until smooth. Pour into large bowl. Stir in remaining tomaotes, cucumber, and bell pepper; add onion, cilantro parsley, lemon juice, green onion, jalapeno, and garlic. Transfer 1 cup mixture to blender. Add 2 1/2 cups tomato juice to blender and puree. Pour back into large bowl and stir to combine. Thin with additional tomato juice, if desired. Season with salt and pepper. Cover; chill 2 hours. Serve cold.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

WHAT A BABE! She's a bon vivant...

Yet a thinking, cerebral woman...

A trickster...

An adoring cousin...

A patriot...

Friend to all...

Possesses superior dental hygiene...

Superb athlete...

A helluva dancer...

Always wearing the exact right thing...

Rode the Hiawatha before it WAS the Hiawatha...

Conquers every older man she meets

Never at a loss for a lap...


SHE'S THE PEEDY QUEEN!

Happy Birthday Peedy!

Was there ever a little girl more cherished and adored by one and all?

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

uh oh!

scanner won't work.....

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

Being of sufficient opinion and cheek, it seems perfectly meet and right that we comment on the Coeur d'Alene Garden Tour of today, July 8, 2007. We haven't been to the tour since the garden club boated everybody across the lake to The Hag's, where His People got 40 roses from Tower Perennials on the Palouse Highway, put 'em in the ground and pronounced it a rose garden. Boys and Girls, we have been to gardens of the world (read that: 'Stourhead') and they ain't in Casco Bay. Not that we don't think the Coeur d'Alene Garden Club is well intentioned; we do. We just don't trundle out on a 90 degree July afternoon to see another spoiled millionaires' wife's latest indulgence. Read that: it takes a lot more to build a garden than "help" and "bushes". So off we go today to Coeur d'Alene because we see they are featuring some gardens in our old neib, that being the Central School neighborhood.

First stop: 901 Bancroft Avenue. Our old friend Debby lived down on Bancroft, which strictly speaking was on the other side of the tracks. It has always been a working class neighborhood, featuring well built little houses on tidy lots. Many of these homes fell into ruin as Coeur d'Alene followed the national trend of flight to the suburbs, in North Idaho it's the subdivisions, and only in the last several years are people buying these wonderful houses and painting and repairing and getting storm windows back on them. It is a fabulous neighborhood. We would live there in a second as it's an easy walk to Tubbs Hills, Sanders Beach, downtown Coeur d'Alene and yum! the new Coeur d'Alene Public Library. So this garden that wraps around the house that sits on the corner is quite divine, thank you very much. It is a proud garden featuring fruit and vegetables, flowers and grasses, trees and shrubs; thoughtfully laid out and with all small gardens, an expert, ingenuous use of the space. You enter the garden through a lane bordered with tall green grass that has been bunched for a lovely, artistic effect and you involuntarily owoooow! delicious! as you scrunch your shoulders; not of course, in your out loud voice. This garden is chock full of small, luscious artistic effects that launch you right into bliss. And you continue on your way, sighing contentedly. So you walk straight into the raised vegetable garden planted with the precise perennials and annuals that will attract the beneficial insects that will in fact, protect the vegetables as they bloom, set and mature. Fabulous. They know what they are doing here. There are raspberries along the back fence and espaliered pears on the other back fence. You turn the corner and go up the other side of the house and pass lovely vines, roses, little arbors and smashing uses of a variety of hues of green. They have got green everywhere, of many, many shades and it's a plaid that might exist elsewhere only in The Land of Oz if it even exists elsewhere. This garden has it all: a tri-color beech, shrub clematis, an exquisite English rose and a deft, sure touch that's unmistakably green. We love this garden. We give it FIVE SPADES.

Next: 822 Garden Avenue. This place, sits on the corner, is up the street from our teacher, Mrs. Driessen, who God rest her soul, read us 'Charlotte's Web' on those hot first days of the third grade. She could do no wrong thereafter and was arguably our favorite. So we are at this darling white house on her block that features the quintessential shady front porch that flies the American flag. This ladies and gentlemen, is our childhood. We take a shady path on the side of the house to her back garden where we break into full sun patio. We are immediately frustrated because we want to be at a party here and we want all these people to be our oldest Coeur d'Alene neighbors and pals. They aren't. We don't know who the hell these people are but this garden is still simply scrumptious it is sooo inviting. The Head Gardener here has built privacy screens with flowers boxes built in that feature inviting and happy annuals and she also sports architectural pieces with pots and garden memorabilia and accessories. She has an old 9th Street street sign that hangs on her fence; our eyes narrowed and squinted when we saw this. We would commit a felony to have the same old sign from our street, just 3 blocks up. It would read, of course, Pennsylvania Avenue. And that we would make a brazen pitch such as this with our birthday mere days away is disconnected completely to this whole conversation. Completely. Okay, back to the garden: as fabulous as her patio with that incredible old table that could seat 20 easily was, it was the alley that sealed it for us. We had alleys in Coeur d'Alene, in the Garden District, and there was all sort of activity and negotiation that went on in those alleys involving every member of the family. God, we'd give anything for an alley at Bellemaison. She has hers planted with variety of perennials and vegetables, sunflowers! and she composts here, too. The exposure is perfect. This is a killer use of the ground. We give this garden FOUR SPADES.

Across the alley: yep, that's right. 823 Wallace Avenue. The garden club chose back door neighbors for the tour,something we don't think we have ever seen. It was terrific to trip across the alley into the neighbor's back garden, the path flanked by tall sunflowers. These people built this garden with and for their kids. They speak of the sandboxes and big wheels going and the little vegetable gardens coming as the kids grew up. Pottery fashioned by every member of the family abounds in this garden. These people and their values are transparent and form a charming garden experience: they make a wonderful vegetable garden that runs parallel to the alley. Again, that hot, full sun exposure will set and ripen that fruit by August with no problems at all. They make a delightful dining area where barrels full of multi-colored lettuces form the boundary for the next garden room where they display family artwork and sculptures. We were mentally car-jacked when we spotted plastic lemons on a plastic lemon tree tucked back into a corner off a pair of french doors. Whaaaaat? Even though these people are organic, we deduct a whole spade for the plastic and give them only THREE SPADES. What the heck are they thinking? We were damned distraught when we got back to the car and headed up to midtown.

930 5th Street. This, of course, is the Dingle house. We stood next to the current owner as she chatted with another tourer. She has not lived in the house long and and was saying that when she inherited the garden, there were sooo many shades of green, this is true, that it's her intent to put some color in the garden. Her greens are all shade greens and don't give off the green sparks like the garden on Bancroft. She said further that mostly she just wants to honor the garden and keep it in good form for the next owner. Utterly lovely woman. She really does have a sense of color as she put this whiskey barrel full of annuals on this stump. The barrel and the stump were the same color and texture. The garden features magnificent, old deciduous trees and it was a wonderful, cool haven on a hot July day. We give it and the owner FOUR SPADES.

12582 Strahorn, Hayden. Dear, dear, dear,dear. This was the northernmost leg of the tour and was your quintessential gauche garden experience. Had the gate, the lake, the lawn, the waterfalls and the bronzes. Had every silly touch of a wanna be/poser a garden could have. The head gardener here has probably moved 1,000,000 yards of soil onto this place. But let's start at the beginning: they hand you a separate program at the beginning of this tour that pedigrees both owners and the house. Do I care about these people's careers? Hardly. Not only that the program does not use the botanical name for the prodigious list of shrubs and trees they have planted, which is a taxonomy foul with no forgiveness. To be fair, maybe the labels at Home Depot don't give you the species and genus. The house is an utter yawn, a nouveau riche yawn. Dear god, they claim it's reminiscent of the houses in Southern France and Northern Spain. Clearly, as pedigreed as these owners are, they have not actually been to Southern France or Northern Spain. They do not attribute their art, they say it's unknown and although they refer to the artist who built Grandma's Tea House, they just don't give credit by name. And actually, that's the whole deal with this garden: the back patting and self congratulatory good ones! of this bizarre horticultural outpost are deafening and to hear them tell it, these gardeners were, are and will be real garden in the area for all time. I don't think so. We give them ONE SPADE. They use llama manure and oddly, given their pedigree, can't spell it. These people have much more money than sense. Or taste.

2484 East Woodstone Drive, Hayden. This is a lovely home in a posh development. The Head Gardener here uses a plethora of pink geraniums to create a terrific curbside vignette. She uses lots and lots of petunias in front of flowering shrubs in all her beds. In fact, here's the program for this garden, in total. April: prune the shrubs. May: plant and fertilize the petunias. October: pull the annuals out and toss. This is not a garden, but well maintained grounds. The Head Gardener on Woodstone has put in yet another water feature, apparently there's code in North Idaho that says that you absolutely must have a water feature on your property or your children will be mocked and scorned and will never amount to a thing. To be fair, this water feature is quite lovely but good god! she had plastic lotus! Enough said. This gardener/groundsman has such an eye for color, why doesn't she really do something with these grounds? I give her TWO SPADES. She needs to mix it up and get dirty.

1256 Bogue Court. This was another sub-division garden but this Head Gardener dropped in some dazzling touches. First, we must chide her for keeping the flower beds parallel to the lines of the property. She is so creative; why is she doing this? She employs a great mix of perennials and annuals in her beds and plantings, along with flowering shrubs and a few trees. Bravo on the imagination. And her water feature has a big nasty red orb! God, what the neighbors must think of this rebel! She also sneaked into our heart and laid down roots with her scarlet runner beans climbing along the fence; we just didn't see that coming. But it was the home stretch that made her a man among equals, those equals down in the Garden District that is, again blind siding us with some dazzling garden magic. We turned the corner to exit the garden and found this:

This is the space she carved out for the children in her life and it completely rocks. Best kid area of the day. We give this garden THREE SPADES. This garden is only three years old; we are expecting great things from this Head Gardener in the coming years.




We love the irony of the finest garden of the day being the smallest garden and costing the least to build. We love the surprises that can lay in the subdivisions. (note: don't count the suburbs out.) We love the renaissance in the old neighborhood and gratefully (okay, tearfully) thank the new neighbors. You rock, too. We're out now. It's cooled down enough to barbecue here. Another gorgeous North Idaho day, in the books.

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan, EWA

From my cousin, a new immigrant, to his family back to Germany:


June 22, 1846
Indiana, USA

" I deem it my duty to let you know where I am and how I am faring. In the first place, there is but little to write concerning the voyage, because these voyages are so frequently described . We were on the ocean for seven weeks, suffered and experienced many heavy storms, and yet the danger is by no means so great as people imagine. I would advise no one to give up his intentions of coming to America for fear of the voyage which I have discussed with many and the majority were satisfied...

All men are equal here and no one thinks that he should have greater respect shown him or that he should enjoy some higher title than his neighbor; it is all the same whether he fills some office or whether he lives by hard work. All stand on common footing. Officials are chosen for one or two years from among the people. The president of the country is elected for four years. Every man who has lived here five years can become a citizen. It costs him one dollar and he can vote on all questions and help elect public officials. There are two parties; democrats and aristocrats, the latter known as Whigs. There is great excitement when there is a governor to be elected, the excitement becomes greater at the time of a presidential election, for the election depends on the majority of votes. As you all know what democracy means, you may know that the greater number here are democrats because they have never been aristocrats anyway. There was a presidential election last year at which the democrats were the victors by a considerable majority. It was said during the campaign that if the Whigs should gain the victory, no German could thereafter become a citizen after less than a twenty-five year residence. Indeed the views of the Whigs are such as to limit our freedom.

The newspaper men really control the situation, especially in a presidential election. Everything comes of reading the newspaper. I wish greatly that the people of Germany might be able to read newspapers of this kind so that they might appreciate the future action of the Whigs. It is certainly necessary, therefore, that the presidential candidate must be a man of spotless, blameless character, for each party tries to belittle the candidate of the opposing party, and even the record of his earliest youth is carefully studied to discover whether he had made any serious mistakes or committed any wrong. At the last election the Whigs went so far as to publish a caricature representing their candidate as a fox, because they thought their party would be successful, and that of the Democrats as a rooster which was already in the clutches of the fox. The Democrats were not frightened and awaited the results. When the election decided in favor of the Democrats, the processions that usually turn out to celebrate such an event marched through the streets and instead of hurrahing, they all imitated the rooster's crowing and the foxes retreated to their holes.

Independence is the greatest of earthly blessings, and when one goes in to the cities on the Fourth of July, the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, one finds such festivities going on as excel all similar celebrations in Germany. It is a celebration that declares Independence over again, speeches are held in English and German, and the people exhorted to do all in their power that this freedom may be preserved; a heartfelt tribute is paid to the men who gained the precious freedom of our land. After the conclusion of the speeches, it is not the custom to give three cheers for the public officials, but all affirm that the United States form a nation of sovereign citizens who recognize no superior power but God. Expressions of this character are so numerous that they might fill whole pages and everyone is filled with enthusiasm, especially a German who hears all this for the first time. It seems impossible to him that there is really a country on earth where the worth of the individual is so recognized as it is to him a delight to hear people say, "Thank God, I am an American!"..."

Finally he closes as I do on this most special of days:

"Many thousand greetings to you from me, my children, and my friends as well as yours. My dearest wish remains that we may soon meet. "





JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

I'm packing heat.


Here at Bellemaison we take great pride in the fact that we are herbicide and pesticide free. We allow no chemicals to be used and rely on natural predators to keep noxious pests in check and use hot water and salt to eradicate weeds we pull with no success. We The Man. As a result, Bellemaison is home to all kinds of creatures that live in peace and harmony and that breathe freely. Until today.

We have a hundred or so newly hatched baby birds at the moment; they arrive when the roses are in full bloom and I have been lucky to get some wonderful pictures of them in their greediness as Mama scurries around Bellemaison, collecting their dinner. I was awakened early this morning by the dread sound of The Horsemen of The Apocolypse, the garden crows.

The crows come and take the baby birds from the nest as they cry for their mother. It is a fearsome sight to witness and the one and only reason why we have 75 birdhouses. The birds will still nest in the trees and in the tangles of roses but at least I know it was their choice. The crows came to raid this morning and when I rushed down to the garden, it was eerily quiet except for the raucous cawing of these demons. The squirrels are the only other sound and presence in the garden, making that strange chirp they make as they run up and down the tree trunks giving the birds latitude and longtitude of the black beasts. You do not see nor hear a bird or their babies; ; they are tucked into the houses that hang everywhere. And how the mothers quiet them fascinates me. But they do. The birds are safe as long as they stay in the houses.

There were eight crows who hung around here all day, screaming and calling and intimidating the very air. The Chow Nation paced and were restless. Sunday is a big sleep day for them and they didn't sleep all day as the harrassment of the crows continued without ceasing for the entire day. At a point, I would go out into the garden and angrily confront the crows; they were sooo scared of me. They just perched higher in the trees. Until Joe Montana came home.

Then the tables turned. He got out his pellet gun, his pellet gun he had on the Rez as a little kid, and loaded it for me and Justice Was Served. OtisGlikes to talk about the Joe and the time he spends there. Now Otis is a nice guy but I seriously doubt he learned to swim, shoot and fish on the Joe like I did. And it's a known and bitter fact that I was the best shot and caught the biggest fish in the family. Except for my dad. So I knew exactly what to do and was completely confident with my gun from the Rez. I sights me some crows sitting side by side on the wire and pfft pfft pfft! Ghandi. I caught the CSs who were perching higher mid air as they were making a break for it. Got off a couple more rounds to signal the Brave New World here at Bellemaison. Circled the patio to see if there was anything more that needed to be done. Seeing none, I put the gun away. The Chows were high fiving.

And this evening the birds sing and chirp as they criss cross the garden with bugs and worms for their babies. Everybody, most of all me, is happy. And I am just about postive you can be organic-certified and still carry a gun. I mean, why couldn't you?


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Wrote this one looking out my office window thinking about the weekend to come. I like this one, too, because when I am in my garden, time really does stand still. I am completely baffled when it gets dark? What happened to lunchtime?

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

The group over at HBO is reading 'Water For Elephants'. I suggested this book because I loved the incredible balance of narrative and dialogue. The story is, despite the degradation and poverty of the American Great Depression, quite hopeful. It's about freedom and captivity. Here is a passage, my favorite of the book, that moved me deeply:


"The food and bedding for the animals arrives shortly thereafter, in wagons rather than trucks. When we cart the hay into the stable tent, the horses nicker and rumble and stretch out their necks, snatching mouthfuls before it even hits the ground.

The animals in the menagerie are no less happy to see us--the chimps scream and swing from the bars of their dens, flashing toothy grins. The meat eaters pace. The hay burners toss their heads, snorting, squealing, and even barking in agitation.

I open the orangutan's door and set a pan of fruits, vegetables, and nuts on the floor. As I close it, her long arm reaches through the bars. She points at an orange in another pan.

"That? You want that?"

She continues to point, blinking at me with close-set eyes. Her features are concave, her face a wide platter fringed with red hair. She's the most outrageous and beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"Here," I say, handing her the orange. "You can have it."

She takes it and sets it on the floor. Then she reaches out again. After several seconds of serious misgivings, I hold out my hand. She wraps her long finger around it, then lets go. She sits on her launches and peels her orange.

I stare in amazement. She was thanking me. "

The need to be understood, and loved, is universal.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

I wrote this one inspired by the syringa that was blooming in my garden. The syringa is blooming now at Bellemaison and I always feel that it is a special, secret gift to me so I remember. Syringa is the Idaho state flower and is everywhere in Idaho. There is absolutely nothing in this world like it or even similar. It is very special. Like the huckleberry. Come to think of it, that's one really special thing about me: I am from Idaho.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan

This was the initializing post, written at PDX Pup's kitchen table in NoPo. Soooo much change in two years....

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Well, it's a pretty chic thing these days. Celebrating that blog anniversary. But I was in Italy last year on my first blog anniversary so this really is my maiden blog celebration, even if it's my second anniversary.

As a child, I loved pen pals. Loved 'em! I had some faithful ones but never one as faithful as me as I was always, no matter the pen pal, the last, the final, to write. I began to write other things in high school, poetry, and so I gradually lost that childhood experience of correspondence and expression that I had so enjoyed. So as an adult, I come to an odd place in the road and I can't tell for sure why it's odd and where I am. It's takes me the better part of two years but then I figure it out: it's odd because I have been here before only under different circumstances. I know this place! It's really changed but it's the same place, I'm positive. It's the pen pal place only now they call it a blog. A blog!

The last time I was blogging was in my bedroom at the house my dad built for my mom when they moved to Idaho after the war. I would sit and scratch away on pretty paper at my little wicker desk and then seal the envelope with a flourish and stamp it and mail it. Oh how I loved laying it all out on paper and waiting to see what came back from far away (Wisconsin!) amazing places. I was the only girl in a family and neighborhood of boys and my amusement and entertainment was created by me, for me. I loved hooking up with these people from all over. Of course, in those days, you hooked up with pen pals through various resources recommended and endorsed by your teacher at school. And little girls wrote to little girls.

These days I correspond with all kinds of people who live much farther away than Wisconsin and who represent a highly diverse slice of life. And I hooked up with them through my blog. I began this blog because I noticed that my children, all adults, corresponded with each other and their friends in a manner that was so different than how I had corresponded with my mother when I was their age. We picked up the phone and talked to each other. Six times a day. We were dead in the water without the telephone. My friends, too. And then my mother died of dementia and there were so many things we never got the chance to talk about and so many things she told me about that I couldn't remember exactly. Her illness was long and slow and we know now that she got sick when she was not too much older than I am now.

So I don't want my children to grieve when they can't remember me. Or remember for sure. I don't want them to have blank pages in their baby books or their instruction manuals. And I want them to know, to know always, that I am with them and that I was in love with them. It was my life's joy and honor to be their mother.

So in the process of making 'Notes From The 'Kan EWA' for my children don't I run into some of the most darling, intelligent, funny, erudite, fascinating people of my entire life? And reconnect with people from my childhood who, once lost, sparkle and shimmer in my consciousness once more? In the process of writing 'Notes From The 'Kan EWA', I live a cherished chapter of my childhood in my beloved hometown all over again. Like deja vu, only with a full tank of gas and a credit card with a high limit.

Blogs. Just never saw it coming.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

She said to me what do YOU Need? I said I need this:

I need somebody who wants to be something; not necessarily be somebody but SOMETHING. What lies in your ambition and what do you want to be?


I need somebody who wants to learn and get better. I went to college with John Stockton and until the day he retired from the NBA with the all time leading assist record, among others, he was working hard .every day. on getting better. His motto was If You Aren't Practicing Someone Else is.

I need somebody who knows that we are Men and Women For Each Other. I need someone who does not need explicit definition of the responsibility we hold for each other. Who have you
stepped up for today?


She said well. I can tell you this: there are no sick days in the Navy. I said That's enough. Let's begin.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

The Mugs Have Gone Up!

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

a former CPA

just one tax season too many

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

The Chow Nation tells me that the inboxes are lit up with questions regarding the Lion Cuts. They say clarification is needed, especially since that whole thing with Paris Hilton. Whatever that means. One final thing from them: despite their new found wild celebrity, they have not newly found Jesus but remain practicing Catholics and relish and delight in the body and blood of Our Lord weekly. Those darn Chows.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

Best of Kalaloch 2007

Best Dinner
Nominees: Copper River Salmon, flank steak, cheeseburgers
Winner is: Flank Steak
Honorable Mention: Potato Salad
Comments: got the salmon in Des Moines and it was straight fabulous, planked on an open camp fire. And the sentiment was run away wild for the cheeseburgers, made with ground sirloin and grilled onions. Total yo! Factor. And the potato salad, the potato salad, a whole turkey roaster full, vaporized. Potato salad. But in the end, And in the end, it was the steak, carefully soaked in soy sauce, lemon juice, and minced garlic all day, cooked hot over an open flame that took the day. The night. One. Word.

Best Movie
Nominees: Oceans’ 13, Inside Man, Casino Royal
Winner is: Oceans’ 13
Best Line: “The nose plays.”
Comments: Steven Soderbergh, Spike Lee and Daniel Craig. It was a damned fine movie week.

Best Unexpected Great Moment
Nominees: guy in ‘82 Chevy S10 pickup flipping us off in Aberdeen traffic, feeding the crows, watching the eagles fish, the big cedar
Winner is: Guy in pickup flipping us off
Comments: although watching the eagles was flat thrilling the guy in traffic just cracked us up royally. Damn Tourists in their fancy cars.

Best Past time
Nominees: cooking, watching the waves, dominoes, scrabble
Winner is: cooking
Comments: Cooking in our DNA and we do it no better on an open fire where utilitarianism becomes the philosophy of universal value and time honored tradition.

Best Dressed
Nominees: British metro-sexual, Aberdeen locals in camou, lion cuts!
Winner is: lion cuts!
Comments: The Chows took all the love this week. They were the Rock Stars in collars.

Best purchase
Nominees: Converse low cut Chuckies, yellow fleeces, Mount Rainier National Park Starbucks mug
Winner is: Yellow Fleeces
Comments: We always buy trip jerseys for the team and these were on sale for $15 apiece at the General Store. They are hott.

Best Adventure
Nominees: Chasing the Chows down the road, watching high tide, Beach 4
Winner is: Beach 4
Comments: Not Disney, not Vegas, not anybody or anything can complete with Mother Nature for true o*my*gosh*did*u*see* that????*stuff. Entertainment. Wonder. You gotta love it. Imagine the IPO if Mother Nature decided to license and sell her stuff.

Best Advice from the locals
Nominees are: Wilderness Bob, Mike the Waiter, Chinese waitress
Winner is: Wilderness Bob
Advice: King Salmon start biting when the rains start in October

Best New/Old Observation
Home is where the heart is

Best/Worst Reentry Moment
Wall of mayonnaise at Safeway. Bronx Boy nee Southwark Lad experience a serious stomach roll and a huge wave of nausea

Best shopping moment
AK 47s in the case at Trustworthy Hardware in Forks

Louise Cobain

On Location

Forks, Washington

We’re watching the eagles fish in the ocean in front of our cabin this morning, having spent 10 days here at Kalaloch in the Olympic National Forrest. People whine about the rain, the sodden skies and the cold water on the Washington coast but if we’re being perfectly honest, outside of British Columbia, the Washington coast is the only place in the universe where you can walk your dog on the beach and watch the ospreys’ nest in the old growth timber 100 yards off the surf as eagles soar overhead. Let Southern California have Laguna and Huntington, here we wear fleece on the beach instead of bikinis, drink coffee not beer as we barbecue, and avail ourselves of all the culture Aberdeen, Washington has to offer.

We were in Aberdeen last night, not being the kind of people that would ignore the opening of Oceans’ 13, despite our remote locale. In a wildly ill-advised move, we headed to the King’s Wok Buffet (New York Style) for Chinese food. Oh my. Did we have the plastic deep fried chicken and shrimp in the sweet sauces with 25 grams of trans fat in each bite? We did. We had egg foo yung with the brown gravy, kept hot with a light so as not to congeal right before our very eyes. We drunk called our friends, that party tradition dating back to the days at IDAHO when friends went home from the bars after they closed and called each other at home to say a special good night. Our friends in the new millennium showed proper respect at hearing from Kurt Cobain, Courtney Love and someone named Louise Cobain, whom we don’t really know but who is wickedly funny. Whew. None of us have eaten such bad, naughty delicious food in years and years.

And for culture, there might not be more anywhere at all, block for block, than in Aberdeen. And it’s readily accessible. We walked right into the movie, no lines, no pre-purchase, sat down and waited for the locals to come to this highly touted summer movie event. All seven of them did come at the last moment, but never fully appreciated our take at the movie, particularly when we all went horizontally hysterical over the line “Danny, Cars are driving in and out at all hours. Doors are slamming. Linus is downstairs crying. Tell me what everyone else seems to know.” We thought it was funny.

We love Aberdeen. We love the saw shops, pawn shops, two Les Schwab truck centers, and are pretty blown away at the diversity of the camou. Completely remarkable. As the sign says on the way into town, “Come As You Are.”

So here now is the good bye fete from the beaches of Kalaloch, a family specialty cooked in the dutch oven over a fire on the beach

Heart Attack Mac

8 oz elbow macaroni

8 oz sour cream

2 c cottage cheese

8 oz cream cheese

1 small onion, chopped

S & P

8 oz sharp cheddar cheese, grated

Cook macaroni as per directions on package. Drain. Combine with other ingredients, except cheddar, in same cooking pan and season to taste. Line dutch oven with foil and spray foil with non-stick pan preparant. Spoon the macaroni mixture into the dutch oven and top with cheddar cheese.

Bake in covered dutch oven with 10 gray coals under the oven and 20 gray coals in the lid. When fully cooked, macaroni will bubble around the edges and soufflé. Don’t undercook. Serve with Pollock salad.


Pollock Salad

1 bag iceberg lettuce mix

1 bottle Kraft Zesty Italian Salad Dressing

2 good handsful feta cheese

2 good handsful croutons


Cut top off bag with knife. Combine all ingredients, using full bottle of salad dressing under advisement. Mix well with hands. Serve with icy beer to mitigate effects of dirty hands. If you are celebrating wildly, serve Heart Attack Mac and Pollock Salad with grilled hot dogs. It’s a 100% impressive meal.


Louise Cobain
On Location
Forks, Washington