Yesterday I stopped by the clinic before work for a blood draw in anticipation of my annual checkup next week. Because they did not open until 8:00 and I had to fast, I took my time getting ready in the morning. Took a brisk walk and was treated to a spectacular sunrise. People are always asking me why I get up so damned early rather than sleeping in.
This is why, folks.
In any case, I got there promptly when they opened, and was in and out in about 10 minutes. When the nurse stuck a needle in my vein she exclaimed, “Good news – you have blood!” I laughed politely, even though I’m pretty sure this is the exact same thing, the nurse who took my blood last year said. Word for word, even though it was a completely different person. Which makes me wonder if there’s a Making Small Talk With Patients course that’s a prerequisite for graduation from nursing school. I’ll have to ask my mom, who is a retired RN.
Then the nurse mentioned the lab work includes a cholesterol check, and without missing a beat, urged me to get an Egg McMuffin after my blood draw because I had been fasting and she said it would really hit the spot. I found that sort of funny and ironic. Then again, my doctor is a big fan of diet soda – he once extolled the virtues of Diet Coke to me and seemed to pooh-pooh the idea that aspartame is bad for you, so I wonder sometimes whether this clinic is on the up-and-up.
Not that it matters. Next week’s appointment will be my last one with these guys, barring an unforeseen case of the bubonic plague or something.
Knock on wood.
When I got to work I was swept up in a conversation with the web developers, which is weird because my interactions with them are typically pretty limited. They code, and I make sure modifiers aren’t dangling. We run in different circles. What happened was, I was walking by and decided to be a smartass by pretending to crash their meeting. Only they insisted I stay and wanted my input on a question, so the joke ended up being on me. The question was an interesting one, though: they wanted to know what type of technological innovation I am resistant toward. So I thought about it for a minute and answered, streaming.
Not music streaming so much. I’m Team Spotify all the way. I refer instead to video streaming, which I tend to abhor.
I explained that I still have an old school Netflix DVD subscription, and dropping those red envelopes into the mailbox is a time-honored Monday morning tradition to this day. They regarded me with equal parts compassion and amusement. One of the guys said, “They still make those?!” I’m not sure whether he was referring to Netflix DVD subscriptions or DVDs themselves, but it’s not the first time I’ve heard that.
I don’t know what to say, other than, watching TV on a laptop (or god forbid, a phone) just feels weird to me. The screen is too small, the volume’s too low. It delegitimizes the whole experience. To be fair, I do have a Netflix streaming subscription as well, and a smart TV, and just this week I’ve been streaming a WWII documentary, so I’m not completely out of touch with the modern world. I just prefer the old ways, which makes me sound like a grandpa. Whatever.
Don’t even get me started on how much I miss Hollywood Video…
Countdown: 107 Days
With just 15 weekends left until we move, we are in full-on prioritizing mode now. We already have about 1/3 of those weekends planned out, plus at some point we’re going to have to actually start packing. Everything is happening so fast now!
Which is why we drove up to Tacoma over the weekend to visit family. A two-hour drive is a lot more doable than an 18-hour drive, so we’ve gotta take advantage while we can. On the way there, we stopped at the Billy Frank Jr. Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, which is a real mouthful but also proved to be a great way to kill a couple of hours on Saturday morning. We have driven up and down this particular stretch of Interstate 5 pretty regularly for more than six years, but had never pulled over to check out the refuge. I’m glad we finally did, even if approximately 500 other people had the same idea. Seriously, the parking lot was so full we were lucky to snag one of the last spots. The wildlife preserve features a boardwalk that traverses an estuary, salt marshes, and mudflats located within the Nisqually River Delta.
It turned out to be a 4+-mile walk on a sunny but chilly/brisk late winter morning. Tara had read that the best time to visit was 1-2 hours after high tide and, though we missed that by a good 60 minutes, it was still a pleasant stroll. We saw lots of birds (mostly blue herons, bald eagles, and Canadian geese), plus a furtive seal. Naturally, we took lots of photos.
After exploring the wildlife refuge, we hit the road again for Tracy and David’s apartment, less than a half hour up the interstate. We had a nice visit and Tara made chicken paprikash for dinner. In case you are unfamiliar, paprikash is a traditional Hungarian dish of chicken and dumplings. It also happens to be my dad’s favorite meal, but because it is a heavy and labor-intensive meal, my mom only makes it once a year, on his birthday in January. A few years ago she handed the family recipe down to Tara, who – I am happy to say – has perfected it. She even tweaked the recipe a bit by replacing the sour cream with plain Greek yogurt, which lightens it up a bit and adds protein. I can’t even tell the difference. My great-great-great-grandparents would be proud.
To make the dumplings, she used the practically-antique dumpling maker I inherited from my grandmother. We all gathered around and watched as she was toiling away, ha. In our defense, it’s not every day you see homemade dumplings coming to life, and this was the first time Tracy, David, and Annie had tried paprikash. Anthony was being a typical 5-year old and insisted on frozen pizza instead. Hey, his loss! Everybody else raved over it, and rightfully so. It’s so good!
Sunday morning we visited for a couple of hours before driving back home. Stopped for lunch at an unassuming little family-owned burger joint just off I-5 in Toledo. We used to eat here fairly often when we were making regular trips to Seattle, but it had been a couple of years since our last visit. Mrs. Beesley’s might not have been on our official Farewell Tour list, but we definitely wanted to stop in one more time before leaving. As usual, it did not disappoint.
Countdown: 110 Days
I can’t believe the Olympics are over now. They’d been a near-constant companion for 2+ weeks, and I’ll miss them. And when I say “constant” I mean that. This has been the view from my desk at work:
I even had to move my coworker’s plant out of the way, as she rudely had it sitting atop her filing cabinet and blocking my view. The nerve of some people! Our IT department (that may be a generous description given that it’s really just one guy) was kind enough to hook up a laptop and play highlights from the previous day’s events. I was especially thankful for this after realizing I’d somehow missed the initial broadcast of the men’s snowboard cross, the one event I was most looking forward to. The games were a nice little distraction during the day, and we watched quite a bit at home, as well. Now, onto Beijing in 2022. How different my life is going to look then!
I’ve mentioned from time to time Mark & Tara’s PNW Farewell Tour, a list of things to do and places to see before we move. We settled on 26 items and have been able to cross off 11 so far. On Sunday we completed another – lunch and a movie at Kennedy School, one of the McMenamins flagship properties. We met up with our friend Chris for lunch and cocktails, then Tara and I saw “Star Wars: The Last Jedi” in the theater there. Afterwards, we grabbed a few more drinks at one of the onsite bars before calling it a day. Great way to spend a rainy Sunday.
I know we’re focused on and excited about our move, but I would like to devote some of these blog posts to our favorite places in Portland/Vancouver. I don’t want anybody to think we won’t miss things around here – that certainly is not the case. Now’s the perfect time to discuss one of those places – or in this case, a chain of those places. We are big fans of the McMenamins mini empire, a family-owned chain of pubs, breweries, hotels, theaters, spas, and music venues. Portland brothers Mike and Brian McMenamin opened their first cafe in 1974, founded a hospitality company in 1983, and acquired additional properties over the years. They focus on handcrafting their own beer, wine, cider, liquor, and coffee, and serve up terrific food – in fact, they are one of the 50 top craft brewers in the U.S. Their locations now number in the dozens, and they have been expanding into Washington state in recent years.
McMenamins is a unique place to spend a a couple of hours or even a whole weekend, if you are so inclined. It can best be summed up as an “experience.” Their larger properties, like the aforementioned Kennedy School and the Grand Lodge in Forest Grove, are a labyrinth of bars, theaters, and restaurants. Our favorite is Edgefield, a sprawling former county poor farm in Troutdale that features a winery, golf course, distillery, and amphitheater, where we have caught many a summer concert on the lawn. Bonus: the hotel is haunted. We can personally vouch for that!
All McMenamins properties are decorated in artist-commissioned hand-painted murals that can only be described as whimsical – even exposed pipes don’t escape the artist’s paintbrush – and they sell a passport book in which you collect stamps that are later redeemed for prizes. Quite frankly it’s a brilliant business concept and always a great way to spend a day. And I haven’t even mentioned their legendary Cajun tots. There isn’t anything else quite like McMenamins. It will be missed!
Countdown: 117 Days
I spent three hours this morning working on a blog post for a medical practice association. The topic: office romance. Oh, and the kicker? It was a poem.
Nobody can ever say my job is boring.
This is my third poem for these guys in the last year. How I became the office bard is a bit of a mystery. I remember a brainstorming session on blog topics in late 2016, and I suggested holiday party etiquette. I joked that it should be written as a parody of The Night Before Christmas and things kind of took off from there. For the record, I am most definitely not a poet, but I can crank out a decent rhyme, I guess. Here are a few lines of what I came up with:
Sally and Jack worked for Company A
Their friendship grew a bit stronger each day
Innocent talk about movies and weather
Soon led to them eating lunches together
After a while they started to flirt
They were both single – what could it hurt?
Their risqué behavior deserved an R rating
They justified it because they were dating
A few of their coworkers went to HR
Saying the relationship had gone too far
Further developments fueled the commotion
When Sally was handed a big, fat promotion
The other employees went on the attack
“She got this position because she’s with Jack!”
Keep in mind, this is a professional organization with dues-paying members. Because of that, I had to scrap my first draft, which contained the lines,
“This just isn’t fair!” they shouted in anger
“This wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t bang her!”
Personally, I thought that version was a much more compelling read. But tempting as it was, I just couldn’t bring myself to turn it in. I joked that I could end up being the first person in history to be fired for sexual harassment who didn’t actually sexually harass anyone.
Bonus points if you picked up on my pop culture references. I like to throw little Easter eggs into my work, just for fun. That’s kind of my trademark, as the holiday etiquette poem contained characters named Michael, Stanley, Phyllis, Oscar, Jim, Pam, Toby, Dwight, Meredith, Andy, Ryan, Kelly, and Creed. Suffice it to say, there’s a fair amount of creative leeway allowed on these blog posts.
Is it any wonder they’re among my favorite writing assignments?
Countdown: 120 Days
I had an unexpected snow day today!
Well, not exactly. I still worked. I just did so from the comfort of my recliner at home, thanks to a rare late February snowstorm. How rare? It’s been 23 years since we’ve had this much snow (3.5”) after Valentine’s Day. And they’re predicting more tonight. What a strange winter it has been. We were in the 60s a couple of weeks ago and it looked like Spring had arrived early. When Punxsatawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter at the beginning of the month, I thought to myself, the groundhog has lost his freakin’ mind.
But the shadow never lies.
It actually snowed pretty much nonstop all day yesterday, but the temperature hovered right around 34 degrees and the ground was too warm for anything to stick. After sunset the temperature dropped and the snow picked up, so Tara and I found ourselves walking around outside right in the midst of the heaviest of it. I call that “South Dakota research.” This morning when I opened the blinds in our bedroom, I was greeted with the following sight:
Gorgeous, huh? The sun was rising next to Mount Hood, and its rays cast a warm glow on the snow-flocked branches. Even Tara seemed to enjoy the magic of last night’s snowfall (or at least pretended to). Normally I’m the one gushing over frozen precipitation while she is rather blase over it all. We may just have turned a corner.
The funny thing is, Rapid City got a bunch of snow on Monday and I was jealous. Not anymore!
We got an email from HR this morning stating that the office was technically closed and we could come in at our own discretion or make alternate arrangements with our managers. I was planning on working from home anyway, because there is absolutely no need for me to do this job in an office (hint, hint!), so that worked out nicely. I’m always more productive working from home anyway. Got an early start too, so I’ll be logging off at 3:30 and heading to WinCo for groceries. Not because another storm is bearing down upon us; Wednesday is just our designated grocery day. Hopefully the store isn’t a madhouse.
Countdown: 122 Days
I realize 1″ of snow is nothing, and that I’m going to have to get used to a lot more than this. But it sure does make for some pretty scenery.
Bloody Marys, a “Curb Your Enthusiasm” marathon (thanks to a free HBO weekend. I can finally watch the newest season – yay!) and even a little snow in the air. Translation: not a half bad Sunday. It would be even better if I had tomorrow off like a certain unnamed female in the house does. Well, technically three females in the house have Monday off if I’m counting the cat, but whatever.
It’s been a pretty nice weekend. Originally Tara’s friend Betsy and her son were supposed to come up for a visit – they live in Vegas – but she inadvertently booked the trip for the wrong weekend and it would have cost something like $700 to change her ticket, so that visit is on hold. Which is probably a good thing, as the weather isn’t great. It took a while, but winter finally decided to arrive. Friday evening we went back to Shanahan’s. Last week we actually had to walk out and come up with a Plan B because every seat in the place was taken, but this time things were back to normal. We got our regular table (I joked that they should put a plaque with our names on it to commemorate our faithful patronage over the years) and enjoyed fried pickles and other wonderful pub grub. I am going to miss the hell out of that place.
Saturday we drove into Portland to kill a few hours. We’ve been stocking up on things we won’t be able to find in Rapid City, like Wild Roots vodka and Jacobsen sea salt. With only four months to go, it’s time to take this stuff seriously. Afterwards we headed over to my parents’ house. They are still out of town and won’t be home for another six days, so we borrowed their grill again and cooked up some chicken and asparagus. Drank wine and cider while listening to Crosby, Stills Nash & Young and Paul Simon. It was a very nice evening.
Speaking of Paul Simon, I just bought us tickets to see him. His farewell tour is swinging through the Moda Center in Portland on Saturday, May 19. I was on the fence, because honestly it’s kind of a pain in the ass dealing with arena concerts, but I grew up listening to Paul Simon because my dad was a fan. The fact that it’s a weekend show, not to mention his farewell tour, sealed the deal for me. Our seats may be in the nosebleed section but this will be our last big concert before we move and, therefore, totally worth it.
Today I am making chicken noodle soup and plan to finish up Season 9 of Curb. It is otherwise a very chill, low-key day.
Countdown: 125 Days
Last night Tara was wrapping things up in the kitchen, so I told her I’d meet her in the bedroom. Halfway there I realized I’d forgotten something on the dining room table, so I turned around and retraced my steps. She was not expecting me to return, and as soon as she saw me, hid her hands behind her back.
Suspicion level: 10.
“What do you have there?!” I asked.
“Nothing,” she replied.
Suspicion level: 11.
Clearly she was hiding something from me. Upon further interrogation, she confessed to adding a handful of salt to the coffee grounds. I preprogram the coffeemaker every night so a fresh pot brews automatically when we get up the next morning, but salt is never part of the equation. She explained that Alton Brown, in her eyes the quintessential expert on all things cooking-related, swears that a little salt in your coffee grounds cuts down on the bitterness, and wanted to try it for herself. Odd as that sounded, I accepted her explanation and we went to bed.
While showering this morning, it occurred to me that this is how spouses commit murder. You turn your back for a second and your significant other furtively adds something to your beverage. Next thing you know the doctor is pronouncing you dead and Keith Morrison is devoting 60 minutes to exploring the mystery behind your final days in all his velvety smooth-voiced glory. It was a rather unnerving thought.
I mentioned my realization to Tara this morning, and she accused me of watching too much Dateline NBC. Guilty as charged, but that’s beside the point. I wasn’t accusing her of trying to kill me or anything, simply stating that the salt could have been arsenic in the hands of somebody with murder on their mind. Good thing our relationship is solid!
Or was until I almost called her a killer.
Speaking of Keith Morrison, here’s a video of him reading from the telephone book. Why? Because, that voice!
Countdown: 128 Days