July 30, 2011

sunset beach, part 2

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(crab and I were both startled when I approached him on the beach, and he scurried under this rock before I could show him to my brother)

impending storm

myrtle beach skywheel

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the ladies

meeting of the flock

the mirror maze

gull friend at sunrise

beth gives a talk?

it was so windy I couldn't keep my hand still
(a photo of the wind: one morning we got up early and biked to the east end of the island to watch the sunrise, only to get there and discover that the winds were easily 30-40 mph, blowing so hard I literally could not bike against them. the attempt to photograph my brother's bike ended up only in blurs, because I couldn't hold my hand still.)

feathered
(my sister and I got featherlocks, please pardon my stupid expression)

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last sunrise at the beach
(our second attempt at watching the sunrise, on my final day at the beach, was much more successful than the first)

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sky vs land

good shell day

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I'm back in portland now. on my final day at the beach I awoke at 5, no longer able to sleep. my mom, my brother and I biked to the end of the island to watch the sun rise, and then, after dropping our bikes at the house, walked down to our spot on the beach and went for an early morning swim. with the exception of just two small breaks, I stayed on the beach that day from 6 AM until 2:30 in the afternoon, desperate to squeeze the last drop of every moment I had left.

my mom drove me to the wilmington airport, about an hour from the island. I had showered but on my skin was the chalky residue of sunscreen, and my hair blew curly in the air from the open window. when I reached the airport we hugged and, as always, my mother had tears in her eyes. how do I keep doing this? I wonder. I said some insipid thing like I'll see you at christmas or you should come out for thanksgiving! but it felt trite and false. I loaded up my huge backpack and walked through the airport door with a wave. after I had checked in, I walked briefly back outside to savor for one last instant that weather I so love.

inside the airport, I cried until the plane began boarding.

I feel too old for homesickness, yet here it is, seemingly worse than ever. back in portland, the cloudy mornings give way to sun. scott sleeps next to me. the vegetables in the garden are enormous. but inside me there is a deep gash I don't know how to fill.

July 22, 2011

sunset beach, week one

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(my cousin's stash. apparently it was on sale. we call her room "the liquor store")

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this morning at 8 AM it was 85 degrees. the humidity makes my hair curl. in the mornings there is coffee, sometimes muffins. everything, including the bed, is covered in sand.

a few days ago, a bold crow stole an entire packet of my baby cousin's crackers out of a bag, then hopped five feet away from us and looked at us inquisitively. when little jack ran after him, the crow flew over the dunes with the packet. a few minutes later, we saw him fly idly by with an orange peanut butter cracker in his beak.

vacation: good.

July 13, 2011

to the sunset

in a few hours I'll take a red-eye to wilmington, nc. I'll arrive tomorrow at 8:30 in the morning, and my aunt and uncle will pick me up from the airport and drive me to the beach house on sunset beach. I'll be there for two weeks, the longest time I've spent there since 2006. spending time with me there will be two aunts, one uncle, four cousins (and three of their children), a cousin's friend, my mother, and my youngest brother and sister. there may or may not be a pet hamster in attendance.

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it turns out everything that needs to be said about the beach, and what it means to me, I wrote back in 2009. I truly cannot wait.

July 11, 2011

#19

19. do the fruit loop

hood river's fruit loop is 35 miles of roads that wind around orchards and wineries and fruit stands. I've been to hood river a few times -- to swim across the columbia and to hike -- but have never traveled through the loop. although most people DRIVE the fruit loop, I got the idea that it might be fun to bike. I couldn't find very much about biking the route,  with the exception of a forum posting a few years back that talked about a group ride there. it seemed totally doable, so a certain someone and I decided to do it this past weekend.

scott talks a lot about all the bike trips he's gone on, and has often suggested that we could do one together. secretly I have never believed I was up to the task, because I hadn't biked in so many years and because biking on the road has scared me for so long. cars! they are fast! shoulders are small, and my absolute most petrifying bike fear is of losing control of my bike and crashing into the road in front of a car. also, I still lack finesse when it comes to turning, and I've always been afraid of going at high speeds down hills. but recently I've been commuting pretty regularly in traffic, and we've even gone on a couple of bike dates where we've just meandered along from one place to another. on roads. without spending two hours scrupulously finding the safest bike route possible.

so: the fruit loop.

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we followed this route from hood river, south to parkdale, then back north. we stopped at a couple of fruit stands along the way but didn't choose to detour to any of the ones off the main course. (although we did leave highway 35 for a couple of miles in order to bike on a less-trafficked road).

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mt. adams through the orchards. we were there last summer!

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a certain someone on his bike

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mt hood looming close by

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a paraglider! he/she was SO HIGH UP. presumably they'd ridden the air vents. insane. there were two of them; the other one was much lower.

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making it look easy

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fortunately you can't see the steady trickle of sweat on my face in this photo.

the ride was the hardest I've ever done -- a lot of climbing (for a novice), a lot of fast cars going by, a rough road. there was one hill -- the last, not long but on the steep side -- where I thought, "if I can't see the top soon, I'm gonna cry." but I made it! at several intervals on the climbs scott very kindly waited for me to catch up (and catch my breath) before we continued upwards.

he also tells me that the conditions were probably about as bad as it gets on a bike ride, so I guess I'm ready to go on bike rides now! look who's all grown up.

July 6, 2011

summer, so far

item #1:

today I biked 3 miles home in flip flops; with a bag not designed for biking slung VERY awkwardly over my neck/shoulder, messenger bag style; holding on one wrist a half gallon container of milk in a grocery bag, which I bought forgetting that I'd be biking home and which wouldn't fit in my shoulder bag. the headwind was atrocious, and my shorts -- not really bike friendly -- kept blowing up my leg high enough to give people a show. BIKE COMMUTING SKILLS: ACQUIRED

item #2:

sellwood pool

pool day

sayonara, number 23. we've had a string of nice weather FINALLY OMG THANK YOU PORTLAND so I drove over to sellwood pool, brought a book, and lounged for a few hours. they heat the water to 84 degrees, so despite the fact that it's only now gotten warm outside, the pool was the perfect temperature. there were about a hundred thousand kids there. I ate an ice cream. pool admission cost me four dollars. everything about this story is awesome, guys.

item #3:

the pea trellis fell over.
pea-mergency
trellis disaster

it happened sometime between monday morning and yesterday. we've had a pretty steady north wind these past few days, and the pea trellis is, as I have mentioned, super janky. two of the wooden supports simply snapped from the weight of the peas. this comes literally on the heels of my thinking dreamily on monday, these peas are the most successful thing in the garden so far. go figure. I had to leave them when I discovered them yesterday, but today I bought a couple of heavy plastic stakes and tried to wire them to the existing supports. it's hard since the stand of peas is so thick. I have a suspicion their season is beginning to wane, so hopefully the thing will hold up long enough to harvest the last of them.

it was a good run. we have probably a 3 or 4 pound bag of peas in our fridge right now. I love eating them straight off the vine, but we have so many that I'm going to have to can them or pickle them or feature them in several recipes this week.

item #4:

the rest of the garden hums along.

big beautiful italienischer heads
italienischer lettuce heads, bigger than dinner plates

greens <3!
the whole greens bed. salad 4eva

that fennel is seriously out of control
herbs. the fennel is spreading everywhere, including into neighboring plots, oopsies. and it's like 4 1/2 feet tall

strawberry runners
strawberries & their runners. they, too, are beginning to take over

one tomatillo
one tiny successful tomatillo. there are three other plants, but none with flowers, and since tomatillo plants flower each other in pairs, I may not get any this year. HURRY UP DUDES

various peppers
peppers. right now they don't look so good so somebody remind me to google pepper problems, k?

pole beanies
the pole beans are climbing very enthusiastically up the trellis.

edamame
the edamame is bushy. but not yet beany.

wee sunflowers
teeny tiny sunflowers! they need to be fertilized. hell, everything needs to be fertilized.

item #5:

the finished product

I cooked the first of the chickens from the slaughter. I made the marinade from smitten kitchen's thai-style chicken legs, plus the accompanying mango slaw, and I pretty much want to eat that dinner forever and ever. In fact, although I've already had dinner, I now feel compelled to go pour some hoisin sauce on some peas and call it good.

official portland summer: so far, so good.

June 22, 2011

the right to be a carnivore

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on tuesday, I drove down to help friends keith and rachel, who own provenance farm, butcher some of their broiler chickens, to be sold in stores and restaurants around the corvallis/portland area. once a month during the season, keith and rachel invite friends to help them process the birds. I've wanted to go out there since I met them last summer, but since they butcher on tuesdays and I am usually working, I haven't been able to make it until now.

it was a picture-perfect first day of summer, abundantly sunny and warm. the processing facility is at afton field farm. it's a nearly open-air building based on the designs of joel salatin at polyface farm in virginia, whom you may have read about in michael pollan's the omnivore's dilemma or seen in food, inc.

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the chickens are brought over to the farm in crates, in the back of a pickup. the kill area consists of a stand of six metal cones, into which the chickens are inserted, head-first, so that they're hanging upside down. the corotid artery is severed -- by hand, with a knife -- on both sides of the neck, and then the chicken bleeds out for a minute or two before being transferred to the scalder. the scalder is a tub of water, lightly soaped and heated to 140 degrees. inside it is a rotating drum that rolls the slaughtered chickens through the water, which helps to loosen the feathers. then the chickens are tossed into the plucker, which is a metal tub with rubber knobbies that spins the chickens and pulls their feathers off.

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the heads and feet are cut off the body, and then the bodies are transferred, through a window, into the processing facility, where most of us spent the day. the facility is equipped with tons of hoses, and rows of stainless steel tables. everything is washed down thoroughly before the processing begins, and water runs constantly as the chickens are cleaned and prepped for sale. the whole place is designed to be hosed off! pretty cool. it's almost entirely windows, so although you're inside, it feels very close to the rest of the farm.

I spent most of the day at the evisceration table. evisceration consisted of the following:

1. make a cut at the base of the tail to remove the oil gland;
2. cut halfway down the neck; remove the trachea and loosen the crop, which is a soft tissue sac where food gets softened and awaits digestion;
3. open up the back end and stick your hand inside the chicken, which, by the way, is quite warm. reach under all the innards and pull them out. if you're good you can do this in one handful but I didn't quite master that.
4. separate the liver, heart, and gizzard from the rest of the innards. discard innards. separate gall bladder from liver (and be careful because if you explode the gall bladder on any meat, that meat will taste like bitter garbage and will be BRIGHT GREEN). throw liver in the liver bin and heart in the heart bin. and gizzard in the gizzard bin. GIZZARD BIN: great band name
5. cut off the vent, which is essentially the chicken asshole.
6. rinse out the bird and pass it to the lunging station.

the lungs are removed with a special scrapey-looking tool, since they are attached quite firmly to the ribs. you know, I always think of lungs as balloon-looking things that are hollow on the inside, but of course they are not! they are spongy membranous tissue that happen to hold oxygen.

after lunging, the chickens are passed to quality control, where they are thoroughly rinsed. they're then checked and double-checked for bits that should have been removed already, like feathers, and also vents and crops, which we occasionally forgot to eviscerate. the birds are also checked for broken wings and legs, for bruises, and for other anomalies. if deemed acceptable (all but 3 or 4 were), a slit is cut in the rear of the bird, the drumsticks inserted neatly into the slit, and the whole bird put into an ice bin.

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that process, done to 276 birds, took us from 8 AM to about 1 PM. then we ate lunch.

you are probably wondering why on earth anyone would volunteer for this job. I suspect we all had different reasons. one family is beginning to raise their own chickens and wants to learn the butchering process so they can do it themselves. several folks work on farms, so this was already something they were already familiar with. some folks might have been working in trade for food -- we each got to take home several chickens and a dozen eggs at the end of the day. my personal reason: I felt very strongly that if you can't bring yourself to kill the animal you're eating, then you haven't earned the right to eat it. barring fish -- which feels very hands-off to me in this respect -- I've never before had the opportunity to kill an animal. nor have I sought one out. but when the chance presented itself, I realized how much I wanted to know if I could bring myself to kill a chicken, and I knew that if I couldn't do it, I'd have to change my diet.

most of the volunteers did not seem to have any desire to try their hand at chicken butchering, although they understood why I wanted to. I waited until we had about 80 live birds left before going outside. I had watched the very first kills of the morning and experienced a lot more sadness than I expected. I sincerely respect the feelings of my vegetarian friends, but personally feel that there's nothing inherently wrong with eating meat provided that the meat is humanely raised and killed. the idea of killing chickens didn't bother me. but standing there, with the crates of chickens next to me clucking madly, was a different story. watching steve, who worked the cones most of the day, carefully carry a chicken over to a cone, stuff it in (for obvious reasons they resist going in, and will try and get their feet in to prevent their heads from dangling out the bottom), and then hold its small helpless head between his thumb and forefinger to make the cut -- it was really sad. the chicken's process of going from crate to death was fast and without ceremony. the chickens relax once they get into the cone, and the death is instant, but five to ten seconds after the cut, the body begins to twitch violently as it bleeds out. it's not easy to watch.

but. I did it. steve very patiently walked me through the whole process, and then I went through every step. I apologized to the chickens as I picked them up. my first kill wasn't as clean as I would have wanted, because I wasn't sure how hard I had to push the knife and didn't want to cut the whole head off. but steve gave me some pointers and the next several chickens were very clean kills. I took their bodies to the scalder, and then to the plucker, and then I had experienced the whole process.

not for the squeamish:
chickens in the kill area

after lunch, we came back inside to bag 1-lb bags of hearts and livers, to open up gizzards, and finally to bag, tie, weigh, and store the chickens. the whole process was finished just after 3 PM.

it was a long day, full of hard work, but it was incredibly satisfying. I am feeling homesick lately: I haven't been home to maryland during the summer in two years. I love portland but, as you all know, the weather at this time of year is so hard on me. I grew up in a place where in june it is humid and sticky and warm, and there are great fields of grass and muddy rivers to tube down, and iced tea in the fridge. afton field has a farmhouse and a second building which houses their interns. the intern house is where the bathroom was, so I walked there a few times. the covered cement walk from house to house opens onto a small backyard area which overlooks the property. it's shaded and lightly landscaped. as I passed it the first time, I paused to take in the view and thought sincerely that I could have stood there for the rest of the day, or maybe all summer. something about the gentle clutter of the farmhouse and the sense of small-town community between the volunteers (some of whom were k & r's church friends), coupled with that beautiful day -- I'm not sure I can explain how it felt. it reminded me strongly of my favorite place to be as a child, which was my aunt and uncle's five-acre property, where every summer I would roam the woods and pond and long gravel driveway with my three cousins. I kept thinking, I kind of wish this was home.



for more details on how to butcher a chicken: http://butcherachicken.blogspot.com/2007/09/introduction.html

for a partial shot of that beautiful backyard: http://highheelsinthebarnyard.wordpress.com/2011/04/01/peaceful-morning/

June 10, 2011

the list.

30 things to do while I'm 30.

1. bike to the island.
2. lookout.
3. finally start wearing my new glasses.
4. go by rail!
5. throw a surprise party.
6. hug.
7. renew my passport and
8. leave the country SERIOUSLY THIS TIME GUYS
9. pay a debt.
10. rehab.
11. worship at the church of elvis.
12. go to the desert.
13. make elaborate homemade ice cream.
14. get to 250 hours.
15. more boozetues!
16. float.
17. 50 books.
18. go chinese and japanese.
19. do the fruit loop.
20. go see the rollers.
21. watch a movie outside.
22. naked bike ride! *
23. head to the pool.
24. ride horses on the beach.
25. bridge pedal.
26. shanghai.
27. see the planets!
28. brave the nude beach.
29. plant a letterbox in forest park.
30. climb mt. st. helens.

June 4, 2011

"superbly situated," robert hershon

you politely ask me not to die and i promise not to
right from the beginning-- a relationship based on
good sense and thoughtfulness in little things

i would like to be loved for such simple attainments
as breathing regularly and not falling down too often
or because my eyes are brown or my father left-handed

and to be on the safe side i wouldn't mind if somehow
i became entangled in your perception of admirable objects
so you might say to yourself: i have recently noticed

how superbly situated the empire state building is
how it looms up suddenly behind cemeteries and rivers
so far away you could touch it-- therefore i love you

part of me fears that some moron is already plotting
to tear down the empire state building and replace it
with a block of staten island mother/daughter houses

just as part of me fears that if you love me for my cleanliness
i will grow filthy if you admire my elegant clothes
i'll start wearing shirts with sailboats on them

but i have decided to become a public beach an opera house
a regularly scheduled flight-- something that can't help being
in the right place at the right time-- come take your seat

we'll raise the curtain fill the house start the engines
fly off into the sunrise, the spire of the empire state
the last sight on the horizon as the earth begins to curve

April 8, 2011

a dirge

earlier this week, the SSO filed for chapter 7 bankruptcy.

Syracuse Symphony Orchestra will file for bankruptcy, board announces

I managed to only read one page of the comments before I closed the window. because what is the point.

so, now back to our regularly scheduled garden photos, horse angst, random musings, and occasional opera talk.