Almost time to buy the 2010 Nikki McClure wall calendar…

Almost time to buy the 2010 Nikki McClure wall calendar…

Off to Portland for the weekend with high hopes of stopping at Sweet Pea for banana bread, brunch, something or another:

Being pregnant and considered “high risk” for catching swine flu and it, you know, killing me, my parents are so worried that I’ll contract the virus–the “high-knee” as my dad calls it–it’s become completely nutty. At dinner last night my dad changed his shirt after riding the bus, even though he had a coat on, washed his hands three times before the meal, and made everyone put a napkin over a loaf of bread before cutting.
It’s these sorts of antics that convince me I’m a goner. That irony will win, that of course the high-knee will be mine. Which makes me really, really want a blue knee high right now. Five weeks and counting.
Have you heard?
British singer Morrissey was hospitalized overnight after reportedly collapsing on stage during a concert, medical officials said Sunday…
Signs of life in Upper Queen Anne:

I dreamt D left last night– don’t know why, probably reacting to recent news that friends are sick or displaced.
I was in my old house, in the little pink bathroom, crouched below the sink. I put my toothbrush in this plastic cup with a circus dog face molded on the front and felt, more clearly than most times in waking life, a thick blanket of abandonment and futurlessness.
When I woke up and felt D’s back next to me it was warm, moving away from me and close again.
A kid working for Greenpeace tried to stop me on the street today by saying, “You like babies! Do you like baby seals?”
A little while later, a cop mumbled, out of the blue, “congrats, maam” as I walked by.
Signs that, in case I’m in denial some days, it’s clear to everyone that I am muy prego.
I thought Daylight Savings had to be this weekend, but it turns out we have a little bit longer until, presto, it’s dark in Seattle at 4:30. The fun begins Sunday, November 1 at 2 a.m.
Went to the Old, Weird America exhibit at the Frye this past weekend and completely loved it. The show originated at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Houston and is on its final stop, in Seattle through January. Better yet, the museum offers free admission.
(I almost wrote next, “Killer way to spend a rainy Saturday.” Who am I kidding? I’ve never called anything killer before, but it naturally came out of my head. Next I’ll be saying, “That slayed me.” But truthfully, the show kind on was, well, killer. Ouch.)

I bougt my mom a bottle of tarragon-infused vinegar from Pier 1 in the late 80s. She kept it on the counter as a decorative display for maybe a decade without ever opening it. It’s all shock and awe to me that you can actually make tarragon vinegar that looks this fresh and aromatic:

photo Misty Martinez
and knowing Misty at Lemon Spring tastes even better.
That’s it. I’m headed home to make a batch and next week I’m dousing it over a mound of crispy yukon golds straight from the broiler.
*I’m taking a vacation day Friday, more Weatherspoon Monday!
A few years ago, I peeled a star anise into shreds by the same Indiana river
I used to dream as a kid would swallow me up in a bath of chocolate milk.
Sitting down to dinner tonight, I fixed a salad, plucked mint from its stem
while you set the knives together so they touched at the tip.
If family is a bridge from myself to my mother’s mother, let’s be bridge builders in reverse
so all-of-a-sudden the water moves backwards, turns to spiced milk at the bed where we meet for a stiff drink.
From McSweeney’s: The Door to Hell: Paris, France? Shaken, Not Stirred: Monaco? Tell me more.
I drew this a couple of years ago, imagining how I’d feel when I had a baby someday. But at the time it seemed silly, grandiose.
I’m less than eight weeks away from having a son, and coming across the drawing again I’m surprised at how well it matches the optimism and anticipation I feel just before meeting this person my body made out of feathers and threads.

D just missed a huge dust storm in Eastern Washington while he was driving from Seattle to Idaho Sunday. Cliff Mass explains conditions for the storm. Reminds me that we live in the Wild West!:
Extraordinary winds struck eastern Washington on Sunday, with 30-40 mph winds being commonplace, with gusts reaching nearly 60 mph around Wenatchee and vicinity. The result a major duststorm that closed down I90 for a while and resulted in numerous multicar accidents, sending 11 people to the hospital. Visibilities had dropped to less than five feet at times and the powerful winds knocked down many of the apples still on the trees near Wenatchee. It was reported that the ground at some orchards had turned red with apples.

Image via NASA MODIS satellites
Reading Lorrie Moore’s Birds of America. She used a word in one of the collection’s early stories that melted into my head and keeps repeating: homefulness

On Friday nights in high school I’d drive to the Lutheran seminary in my hometown and listen to R.E.M. tapes with my friends. We’d sit around a big, empty courtyard near half a dozen little fountains lit by yellow spotlights.
Voices talking somewhere in the house, late spring and you’re drifting off to sleep with your teeth in your mouth.
A big lake sat next to the grounds near half-empty dormitories. “That’s where the lonely seminarians live,” my high school boyfriend would say.
A security guard on hourly rounds walks by and we stop the tape until he passes. Sit still in the middle of everything, surrounded by fountain and dorm lights and all that water.
October is officially here. That means it’s time for a winding, back road drive from Seattle to Carnation during pumpkin season at Jubilee Farm. There are a ton of U-Pick pumpkin patches, hay mazes, and farm stands selling gourds and squash in a stone’s throw from downtown Seattle, but I’ve been a regular at Jubilee for years. It’s the sort of farm where you want to help clean carrots and pour cider just because. Plus, the hourly pumpkin throw is cooler than cool.
Here’s pumpkin cowboy Miles Ellenwood at Jubilee last year:
