Matt & The Market: Bloggers Unite!

Happy Friday!

Sunrise On The City

(click to enlarge)

A lovely shot of the morning sun on the Seattle skyline when sailing into the city. Just pretty...just because.

True(ly), Mad(ly), Deep(ly)

Did you think I was ever coming back, Kids? I know it was a long absence but I guess it was needed. The holidays came and went without feeling particularly holiday-ish. Quiet and contemplative into 2009. And here we are now...game on! 

Ugh! Doesn't that smack of cliche? "Game on!"? Like the New Year is something to tackle like a football player or a bridesmaid going for the bouquet. I, like most others, typically rally at the end of the holidays and fuel the fires of all that is to be in the upcoming turn of the calendar year. But, for me, not this year. My one resolution is "no resolutions". Somewhere in the dregs of this blog is my resolution list from last year which is likely to contain much of what might get added to the current list...if I were to make one. I am not. Of course, I have goals and aspirations as we head into what may well be a tumultuous year at best. The thing is, in 2009, I really need to get some serious stuff moving. But I need to be easier, gentler, clearer with myself as well. 

This is the year that your Uncle turns the big "40". I have been anxiously awaiting this for a long time as I always felt really good things about being 40. And I still do. But, admittedly, I am not quite where I imagined I would be. Frankly, I feel a million miles away from where I thought I'd be at this point. Sometimes I feel hopelessly lost and other times I feel like fighting furiously to keep steering the rudder through the perfect storm. Sometimes I throw myself a pity party and other times I am kicking my own butt. But, you know what, not anymore. If I feel like I am being guided toward anything right now it would be toward... surrender.

Oh no...not "give up" surrender but "go with the flow" surrender. I have tried to control so much and yet seem to have ultimately maintained control over very little. So maybe it's time to do the opposite? At this point, I don't see a lot of other options. And, you know what, that feels okay to me. Truly...okay. One day at a time and we'll see what comes of all of this.

*********

So how have all of you been doing? Any big plans for your New Year? Hope that the holidays went well for everyone. And "THANK YOU!" to all of the sweet well wishes in my absence. That picture up above ain't no lie, Kids! :) Mwah!

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2009!

A New Year doesn't approach that I don't feel pretty reflective on where I find myself. Don't worry, Kids, you'll be spared my lengthly musings...for now. ;) I've much to ponder and plan and (for goodness sake!!!) DO in 2009! My one resolution for 2009...no resolutions! Yep, that's right! What about you? Are you taking it all on or just going to take it easy? For the moment let me wish you all a VERY Happy New Year 2009, Kids! Hoping for the best for all of us in the coming year!

Yeah, I know. Here I am again anyway. It's late. It's Christmas. And this song has been in my head today. Sure, some of it has been dubbed over in Italian...but the translation is certainly the same (and my favorite scene from a favorite movie). Hope your day was merry and bright. Bye for now, Kids. Happiest wishes sent your way on this frosty eve.

Well, Kids...here we are. On the precipice of the 2008 holiday season! It's been a wild ride of a year but one that we've shared together...along with our hopes for an improving 2009. As things begin winding down to the height of the holidays I figure more of us will be diverting our attentions to friends and families so I will be signing off for a while. I'll be taking the time to decompress a little bit (I hope!) and focus on plans for 2009. So I'll be back again in January. But until we meet again, Kids...thanks for all your loveliness and inspiration, your loyal readership, your patience and perseverance, and for gettin' on and riding this ride with me in 2008! I wish you all the very best holidays and a monumentally joyous New Year!

With a full heart, Your Uncle, Beefy

Dashing through the snow....

Looking down my street.

Kids, if you're perusing any of us Pacific Northwest bloggers you'll see that we're incessantly talking about our winter snow dump. Sorry...we just don't see this often especially around the holidays. Forgive us.

Walked home from work again last night. After a day of delightfully gleeful shoppers, I headed to the grocery store, loaded up on a few essentials (including some wine), packed up the back pack, and began the 50 minute walk home. It was so still and peaceful...okay except for my calves and thighs as they were anything but! However, I remedied the situation by having the iPod going and pretending that it was merely all part of filming the most glorious music video ever. Seriously, if you lived along my walking route and looked out your window, you would have seen a man resembling a cross between an over-sized four year old and a shuffling geriatric dancing (alright, and lip syncing!) his lil' heart out in the snowfall! It was magical! That is until I slipped and fell. And when? Just as I was within the headlight view of the ONLY car to drive by! Great. I mean, the fall I could have rationalized as all part of the video choreography, but the onlookers just shattered my suspension of disbelief.

Oh well, I dusted myself off and made it the rest of the way home to the scene shown above. Dreamy. After making it through the 9+ inches and in through the doorway of my lil' house, I saddled up to some pasta, a couple glasses o' red, and, later, s'mores made with my homemade marshmallows and a culinary torch. Life is good right now, Kids. Cold....but oh so good!

Hope your weekend is shaping up nicely. :)

Walkin' In a Winter....

Kids...have a wonderful weekend! Gotta scoot off to work! These are some images taken on my walk to work yesterday. It's clear today but much icier...wish my bum luck in getting to work unharmed! (And don't forget to vote for Erin! See below.)

It's beggining to look a lot like...

Good morning, Kids! Went to bed last night....nothin'. This morning...SOMETHIN'!!! Woke up to a flurry of flakes and it is hard to wipe the 4-year-old-little-kid grin off of my face! We don't typically get snow around the holidays so this is feeling like an extra treat at the moment. I will be walking (NO driving for your Uncle!) to work today, a lot earlier, but a lot lovelier too. Hope your day is off to a happy start. :)

French Baby Monkeys

Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo via oh hello friend
via Joslyn at Simple Lovely.

Today...Joslyn decided to take full advantage of my Francophile heart. It is now broken into tiny bits of French Macarons and love. Sigh.

What? You expected me NOT to say something?
More cupcake love to be found here and here.

Do you See what I Saw...

Got my sweet package from Raquel & Angela at See Saw yesterday! My letterpress calendar, snowflake gift tags, and cards! Just a bunch of lovingly-wrapped wonderful! It was so sweet to see...saw!

A little less or a little S'more?

Don't hate me, Kids. But, my latest weekend baking ~ S'more Cupcake. Making and toasting the marshmallow was too much fun! Sticky but fun. (Careful with your comments on that one, people! Behave.)

Sia...later.

(Lyrics below.)

Yes...okay. It's another one from Sia. She's a freakin' superstar! This one goes right to my heart as well. And, frankly, if I were planning a wedding this would replace the classic "wedding march". If you weren't crying happy tears by the time they reached the end of the aisle...I'd probably want to use your heart to keep the drinks cold. Mmm, hmm...I said it.

(Michael...you've spread some serious joy my way. Thanks!)


Pick me up in your arms
Carry me away from harm
You're never gonna put me down
I know you're just one good man
You'll tire before we see land
You're never gonna put me down

Oh I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day you're not day too soon

Honey I will stitch you
Darling I will fit you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

You'll risk all this for just a kiss
I promise I will not resist
Promise you won't hold me down
And when we reach a good place
Let's be sure to leave no trace
Promise they won't track us down

Now I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah, I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day, you're not a day too soon

Honey I will stitch you
Darling I will feel you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day, you're not a day too soon

Oh honey I will stitch you
Darling I will feel you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

A, B, Sia

Ever since hearing this over at mchl mchl I cannot stop this from running through my head. (And I love seeing how giddy-happy she is at the end.) Oh...and I love her painted hands! Okay...and the official video is fantastic! Me thinks Sia may have a new fan! :)

Cupcakes to Cards...

After rounding out the cupcake brigade... (What? I'm just mentioning it! I'm not showin' ya's more cupcake pics! Jeez!) ...I busted out my screens and got to printin' up some holiday cards to schuck out at Kennedy & Kate (but they're not available from the website...just sayin'). Every little bit helps these days, y'know? But I suppose some sleep would too.

Failure Forward

I have no idea how Denise manages to find the YouTube treasures she does while I just find ones of insane dogs and the Jonas Brothers (eew!), but this was a delightfully uplifting dose that I needed today. Thanks, Denise.

Local Boy Bakes Good

Good Monday morning, Kids! So how was your weekend? Hopefully, it was a good one with a little early holiday shopping (from fabtastic independent retailers?) and some much-deserved relaxation and down time. As you all know, I was bustin' it out baker-style with my Saturday morning cupcake marathon session. All in all...273 in total! We managed to deliver all of them to Sarah in one trip with only 3 casualties in the process - two to the laws of awkward movement and gravity and another to a rogue coat zipper. What was on the menu? Chocolate Cake with Coconut Milk Buttercream & Toasted Coconut, Yellow Cake with Fresh Strawberry Buttercream, Lemon Cake with Pomegranate & Blueberry Buttercream, and Orange Cake with Fresh Cranberry Buttercream. All from scratch, no flavorings or artificial colorings, fresh fruit...and a whole lot o' deliciousness! (I'm just sayin'.) ;)

Am I going to show you pictures...you ask? Honey! If you asked a Grandmother to show you photos of the grandkids d'you think she's gonna say, "No, not now."?!! Of course I'm gonna show you photos! More than you may be able to stand! But after today, I promise, it'll be a good while before I subject you to these again.

Haley (loveliest employee and all-around-person in the universe!) and Sarah putting the finishing touches on the table o' treats. By this point, I was a little sick of my sugar trip but I made very good friends with that champagne punch...I'll tell you what! Woo woo!

Le Grande Finale!

Kennedy & Cake!

Well, Kids...I know I just said I'd be signing off until after the holidays. Hello...LIAR! Here I am again...already! But I just thought I'd throw it out there to any of you Seattle-area readers that if you happen to be out-n-about this shopping weekend, your Uncle will be in attendance this Saturday the 29th at the Kennedy & Kate Holiday Open House on Bainbridge Island (map here!). I'll be pumping out my fresh cupcakes while Sarah pours the Champagne punch! Because we all know everything is better with bubbles...and "Beefy" too! ;) (Right? ... I SAID...RIGHT?! Hee-hee!)

Frostitution

If you're liking the title I can't take credit. It's from the line "Legalize Frostitution" from Seattle's Cupcake Royale. But these are some styled shots of my weekend's baking escapade. Since this will be the larger focus of my week you may even get subjected to more, Kids. But what's an Uncle to do? I mean, c'mon, they're just too damn cute! (Good lord...it's like they're pictures of my kids or something! Anyone have a referral for a good therapist?) Okay...and I must say, they're pretty tasty too if I do say so myself.

What the cup? Cake.

Based upon this evidence...I am still a better baker than a photographer.
All things in time.

I think I've used this title before? Yeah...a bit cheesy and I guess I can put away my Pulitzer acceptance speech, but it's Monday. It's super foggy here but the temperature is quite nice. Should make for a nice dog walk this morning but it's not going to get me out of work. I'm a bit bushed. And I didn't manage to accomplish or get to a number of things I wanted to do this weekend (sorry Carol!). But I did bust out my recipes and my cupcake pans for a Saturday morning baking bonanza. I whipped up a few large batches, along with a few minis, of my chocolate cupcake with fresh coconut milk buttercream and toasted coconut, and yellow cake with fresh raspberry buttercream. (Yes, all from scratch. It's your Uncle here, Kids!) Apparently, if some have their way, I am meant to go into the cupcake business. Hmm. If so, I'd better think of a good name. Somehow I'm guessing that "Beefy" and "Cupcake" make about as delightful a linguistic combo as "Jagermeister" and "Bride".

Today is one more day of non-rain before the inevitable deluge starts. So I'm going to be hauling myself out for a bit of yard work before the wetness starts or my neighbors begin to picket...then off to work. So this is an easy start to the beginning of what I hope will be a splendid week for all of us!

Misfit

Kids. This will likely be one of the most difficult, and yet heartfelt, posts that I will ever write here at the Bedlam. I would like it to be understood from the beginning that what is to follow is based on my own personal experiences and viewpoints and is in no way a reflection of the viewpoints shared by anyone linked to on this blog. Nor do I expect that my opinions are a blanket generalization necessarily shared or agreed to by a wider group. This is about me...plain and simple.

I have given much thought to this posting and its relevance here at the Bedlam and this has not been a reckless decision but a passionate one. This does not reflect an overall change to the tone or subjects that I will write about or feature but what I believe to be an important topic. I will most certainly return to my usual inspirations that more often pertain to inspirations as opposed to aggravations. But to not write about this subject simply did not feel like an option.

I have felt a personal shift since the election. It was an extraordinary moment that I feel privileged to have witnessed in my own lifetime. The reality is that we are now facing a larger shift in the world order to some extent and I pray that it is for the better. This is forward momentum. However, the results of certain other propositions and initiatives in parts of this country left me with a sense of disappointment and disturbance that I simply cannot afford to pass by in silence.

I indicated in my previous posting that I am not generally a private person. I have lived a life that has warranted levels of social maneuvering and masquerading that I often find the need to be discreet, secretive, or subdued difficult to swallow or stand by. That said, I also feel myself to be one that does his best to disclose or edit as is necessary by event or association. Essentially, I have made great attempts in my life to keep the comfort level. But not now. With the recent passing of various legislations in the states of California, Arizona, Florida, and Arkansas, I have felt a compulsory need to speak candidly in a way I have never felt before. What I am about to share with you is my story. And I can only hope that you will allow me the momentary grace to share it with you and that you will read it in its entirety. It won't be short but it won't be unimportant either...not to me anyway.

The fact is...I am a gay man. This is a revelation that I typically keep to myself not because of shame but rather as a means to be thought of in broader terms and not immediately relegated to only one aspect of what it is that comprises me as a human being on this planet. I have never been comfortable with the idea that my identity would be comprised solely based on who I happen to be attracted to sexually or, more important, drawn to love. But I have found a large part of my life being relegated to such categorizations by people outside of myself, both gay and straight. And, frankly, I am sick of it altogether.

Arkansas recently passed legislation barring anyone who is single or unwed from adopting or fostering children. While the theory of this law is applied to those general terms, the proponents of such legislation have been most public about their primary intent to prevent gays and lesbians from adopting or fostering in an effort to "protect the welfare of our children". As a person who has long felt the desire to be a father I find such ignorance and bigotry abhorrent at best. I personally have never felt inclined toward notions of surrogates or concepts of co-parenting as I feel these options may be more complicated for the children involved. I feel that there are plenty of children needing loving homes that would trump any need for my own genetic gratification. So adopting or fostering a child has always been what I've considered...and dreamed. I'm not interested in sharing my DNA as much as I am interested in sharing my heart. Period.

But there are those in this country who continually and insistently want to sum up every aspect of a vast and varied group into a singular deviant box. For them it is a concept based upon their perceptions of religious morality. And, in an effort to help shore up their belief systems, they latch onto and perpetuate stereotypes and falsehoods. They make every effort to put a face on a community that is as inhuman as humanly possible. That is why I am coming forward to put my face, an individual's face, on a situation that is more prone to generalization over personalization.

************************************

As a young child I tended to be quite shy. Few would believe it now but that was pretty much the case. Generally, things went pretty well for me as I was an excellent student and, based on my parents rearing, most respectful of my elders, teachers, and any type of authority. But at the age of 9...things in my life began to shift with the presence of a boy named Kelly. He would tease me while we waited for the bus calling me "faggot" repeatedly. I couldn't understand what precipitated these events and only knew that whatever a "faggot" was...it wasn't good. Eventually, things started to move towards more physical confrontation and he'd push me around while relishing the mockery that came from his vile mouth. One day...I pushed back. But I was the one reprimanded for my behavior without any chance for explanation or retribution. This was the beginning of what would be a pattern of events that would last for close to the next 10 years.

After 4th grade my parents moved us out to the country thinking that this would add to our quality of life and education. They had no way of knowing that they had moved me into what would be tantamount to living hell. Fifth and sixth grade were no picnic for certain, but starting in 7th grade I began to experience treatment that would lead me to suicidal thoughts from the age of 12 years old and on. There were guys who began to mock me during P.E. (Physical Education) classes. The 8th graders who would threaten me with physical violence and hurl Chinese throwing stars at me in the hallways when all was clear. There was Cindy who would openly and repeatedly call me "Faaaaaaaaaaggg!" during math class without so much as an indifferent level of discipline on the part of the teacher. I did everything I could to become either less and less noticeable, retreating into myself as much as possible, or as much like the others to blend in...neither worked.

By Freshman year of high school I made great efforts to attend boarding schools overseas but seemed to continually get roadblocked by red tape and wound up in the local high school. The educational quality was great but sadly did not manage to develop any sort of intellect in a number of the student body. I had a free period for one hour every afternoon where I would go to the library to attempt to work on homework. However, for the duration of that entire first year in high school, I spent one hour of every single day being threatened and mocked by two comrades, Todd and Todd. Their names only hinted at their collective stupidity and didn't even touch upon their shared cruelty or sadism.

I would arrive home on the bus. Our house was located at the end of a very long driveway and I made the most of the walk to our front door. Often, I would wait for the bus to leave and any other kids to retreat into their homes before beginning my trek down to the house. As soon as I was alone I would begin to unleash the pent up emotions. I would walk down the gravel drive stumbling over uneven stones and unstoppable tears. But as soon as I reached the house I would quickly pull myself together and walk through the door as though nothing was wrong. What my parents did not know is that between Algebra homework and dinner I thought about suicide... a lot. I prayed to God even more.

Fortunately enough, one of the "Todds" left at the end of the year as he was a Senior and given that the other "Todd" was hot for my sister (who functioned on a different level of the social stratosphere) the intensity of my experiences waned a bit but certainly did not subside. For the next three years I found myself eating lunch in the art room as it was often the case that I would have food thrown at me in the cafeteria. Once, while walking across the campus, I had an apple thrown at my back with such force that the welt and the subsequent bruise would last for weeks. I would walk through the hallways being taunted with the usual "FAG!" or "fudgepacker" or "queer bait" and, not uncommonly, getting spat upon. I received an art award at an assembly in my Senior year but instead received infinitely more "faggot"-laced jeers than congratulations. But somehow, by someone's good graces, I made it through to graduation... barely.

So now high school was behind me. I was moving on to the beginnings of adulthood and a new experience on life and off to college...on the other side of the continent! I ensconced myself in a quaint college town in Eastern Canada. What a relief this was...for a moment. Within two weeks, the dormitory house I lived in had been planning our big day of initiation with a house party to follow. I engaged whole-heartedly into the spirit of the occasion even agreeing to volunteer as bachelor #2 in a party version of "The Dating Game". The day found me being doused in ice water, crawling through a swamp, and getting hosed down publicly in underpants. Not exactly my idea of a good time but I loved finally feeling part of the group. We prepared for the party setting up a stage in the student lounge, getting bottles and kegs rared up and ready to go, and praying that our livers would see us to another day.

"Knock, knock, knock!" I opened the door to my dorm room being told that they were ready for the bachelors to come out for "The Dating Game". I lined up with the other two guys outside the door to the lounge while we waited for our cue. One by one, we were brought in and up to the stage. Within a few minutes, this game went from fun to frightening as I became more aware that this was the beginnings of a "witch burning"...and I was the witch. It escalated from individually shouted cruelties to an entire room of perhaps 150 or more people chanting, "QUEER! QUEER! QUEER!" It was more than I could handle.

I finally launched from the stage, pushing through the crowd and their laughter, and out the door. I made my way to the cathedral where I denounced God at the top of my lungs not understanding what I could have possibly done to have warranted His abandonment. Then I told Him that if this was the life He had intended for me...I would be the one to take it! I made my way toward a bridge in town. There had been serious rainstorms recently and the river was over-flowing and turbulent. With the number of fallen trees and branches in the water I felt certain that it would take little time or effort to be caught up in the current and off to wherever it was God wished to send my soul. But I knew it was unlikely to be worse than where I already was.

As I walked onto the bridge I heard voices from behind. A couple of guys from "the party" had followed me. They asked me what I was doing by myself and that I should come out with them and grab some more beers. I quietly refused wishing them on their way. But "no" was an answer they weren't taking and they inevitably lured me away from what I intended to be my own funeral. What I later realized is that they knew. That they had followed me out through those dormitory doors, heard my tirade in the church, and waited. They waited to spare me the embarrassment of my own emotions and drag me away from my own despair. Two strangers from Newfoundland would be the first to ever throw me a life line. That night, I believe, is when God showed me that I hadn't been abandoned by Him but rather by those who would speak in His name. And, as far as I am concerned, He sent me two guardian angels by the names of Harold and Corey. And I will forever thank them and Him for their intervention.

From that moment on my outlook on life had changed. It was "sink or swim" and I was determined to learn the backstroke! I still continued serious moments of ups and downs but spent much less time suppressing myself. The next two years at that college would find me move from "odd man out" to being the "odd man in" on campus as I strove to stand in my own truth. Ironically enough, I would form some great friendships with those who initially mocked me. It would be years later before I found the courage to come forward and "out" but that is where the foundation began to be built.

I would return to the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. to finish college. I began by entering the Women's Studies program with my newly-found friend Sarah. I spent time coming to understand in greater detail all the ways that many had historically suffered under the restraints and restrictions put upon them because of their gender, their race, and/or their orientation. Having gone through my own experiences, it only further developed my empathy and my compassion for all people. I came to understand the richness and complexities of being part of a world community. It deepened my understanding of how uncomfortable it is to have to be conformed into someone else's discomfort. It taught me the value that being myself didn't require that others had to be just like me but rather to be themselves as well.

So here we are, years later, the 21st century. Steps have been taken forward and, sadly, steps have been taken back. But I stand here with my own history and the story that I bring to the American table. And I am sharing it. I am not forcing it and I am not delivering it with the expectation that others have to follow it or change their personal lives for it. I am not giving it as propaganda or to support some fictional "agenda" nor am I giving it as a means to convince you to be like me but to understand the preciousness of being able to be oneself.

So to those in California, Arizona, Florida and Arkansas... I am not asking you to recognize my life and beliefs by summarily rejecting and denouncing your own. I am not telling you to deny yourself the right to visit your beloved in the hospital or, in the event of death, to allow your possessions to be absconded by your partner's family with no legal recourse whatsoever. I am not on an "agenda" to do anything to a child other than to let them know that they are important and loved no matter who he or she is or turns out to be ~ I don't want to cultivate a "gay" child, I want to cultivate a kind and happy one. Most important, I am not asking you to be like me. But I will not be like you either. I will always strive to be myself and no amount of legislation will ever prevent that because you do not ultimately write my story...I do.

************************************

The following is from a book I wrote based on
some of the aforementioned circumstances.

Bitterness is a strange fruit.
The less you like it



the more you eat.
But it's the meal of a misfit.



A heaping portion of self-pity & cynicism
and there's always seconds.



A man but a misfit
trapped on the Island of Misfit Toys



because no one wants to play with you,



but you don't even want
to play with yourself.



You're too gay
to belong to a straight world,
too strange and self-hating
to belong to a gay world.
So you engross yourself
in the Women's Movement
just enough to feel
perfectly out of place.

A sadomasochist in search of vanilla,
you long for a quiet escape.
Yet sigh at the impending boredom of it all.

But at least you can dream.
And so you do.
Through the bottom
of an empty cocktail glass
or the smoke of your last cigarette.

You dream of far away.
Of the bracing cold
followed by the sting of the sun,
knowing you only need
look down the barrel,
pull the trigger,
and go.

But you're too alive
to belong to a dead world.
So you just go on being

a misfit.

Wrestless

Post Haste

Good morning, Kids! A cool and overcast NW morning today thankfully made richer and warmer with the colorful leaves. Decided to treat myself to a breakfast of something more than coffee and whipped up some waffles for a cozy morning-time meal. And surely you know that this was something involving more than a toaster? Yes, your Uncle makes them from scratch! Such a nice little self-imposed treat. (No...no photos because I needed to eat them waffles hot and had no time for styling! And I can assure you, the "after" shot of bits of syrup dripped down the front of my shirt didn't seem like such stylish fodder! Eew!)

I also wanted to let you know that I will be working up some "guest blogger" posts for sfgirlbybay over the next couple of days. I'll see if I can't give y'all a lil' somethin' of your own over here but can't make any promises at the moment as you probably know how your Uncle tends to fly by the seat of his pants! (And I am entrusting you all to leave that comment right where I put it!) So if I don't appear to be around tomorrow...you'll know where to find me. Happy Tuesday!

'Cause I'm a Gambler

Took a little day-trip over the weekend with my sister to Port Gamble, a step-back-in-time town on the Olympic Penninsula. This is one of the best times of the year to go out to this quaint little spot as the multitude of changing leaves just adds to the overall atmosphere. There isn't a lot to do in Port Gamble aside from perusing through the few antique stores, the local yarn shop, or taking some tea (which my sister graciously treated me to...but your Uncle had to check his masculinity at the door!). Always a lovely spot to recharge one's afternoon batteries.

Perfect Pix

Some delightfully delicious "pics" of "Pix"...Pix Patisserie in Portland! Kids, Pix is across the street from Ink & Peat, next to Lark Press and creating some of the tastiest French Macarons! (And, to be clear, I have been to Laduree in Paris.) It has a fun atmosphere that nods toward a kitzch-French sensibility but maintains an urban vibe. Kristine went decidedly more savory than Bob or I did but I just can't pass up those sweet little macarons. But it was ALL tasty and Francophile-satisfying. The orange-colored one was passion fruit, the tan-color was salted caramel, and the brownish-black was Ouzo (And a SERIOUS favorite! Perfection!). Mark it down, Kids...Pix is a Portland keeper!