{She said} Countdown, or Happy Friday

Remember when you were a kid and your mom bought you days-of-the week underwear?  And it was a momentous occasion to get dressed in the morning and pull out the Wednesday pant!es?  {Or mant!es, if you happen to have that Y chromosome.}  It was a childhood-innocence countdown to that lovely institution known as the weekend.  Remember...when cartoons were worth watching and there was a whole box of sugar cereal with your name on it?  

I'm a few years beyond days-of-the-week underpinnings.  But adulthood does find me with a little clothing ritual that makes me grin as I go through the week.  You see, in my profession I spend a lot of time on my feet.  In an effort to combat gravity and my wretched protoplasm/genetics, I wear these babies every single day I'm on the job:

Yeah, you're seeing it right. I wear nurse socks.  Ugly as can be, but at least my scrubs hide them.
There are just enough nurse socks to get through the week, all lined up in a row like little days-of-the-week soldiers in my sock drawer.  It's a countdown from Monday on, one pair of elastic-laden compression hose at a time.  And at the end of the march of numbers, I experience my own personal little triumph as I reach through the pre-dawn gloom and pull out...

The Friday Socks.

I'll be wearing the blessed Friday socks right now as you read this, grinning my just-waiting-for-Saturday grin.  Cartoons and sugar cereal have given way to time with the husband and a visit to the Farmers' Market, but this momentous day is no less anticipated. May Friday find you with a little spring in your step, too.  

{I just hope you're not still wearing your Wednesday pant!es.} 

{He Said} Nirvana

Nirvana

Utopia

Shangri La

Heaven

In each of us there is a journey that must be accomplished.  There have been numerous names given this place of happiness that we reach throughout history by various writers and religions.  I like to think of it as a place of complete joy and contentment.  With this in mind I make the announcement that I have reached this place recently.

I found PIE Nirvana.

To understand fully we will need to trace the full journey.  A year ago after picking raspberries and blackberries we needed something to do with the plentiful harvest.  Friends gave us a recipe for berry pie from Joy of Cooking and it was fabulous.  Plenty of fresh berry flavor without over the top sugary sweetness.  The crust was made with vanilla wafers so it had a nice shortbread feel.

There was something missing however.  The crust could be improved upon.  It was at that point I added chopped pecans and coconut to the crust.

This was significantly better on the crust however there needed to be a little more to the filling than just berries.  I tried strawberries with a creamcheese and whipped cream concoction that I created underneath the berries.

It needed a little gelatin to add stability but wasn't quite what I was looking for.  Next I tried whipped cream, lemon juice and sweetened condensed milk (sorry no picture).  This became too sweet and needed more heft for the filling.  

After looking on the internet and through all of our cookbooks I came upon pastry cream.  Katie had used this before for a tart (she took a "pies and tarts" class from the local culinary school).  It has a nice creamy consistency, not too sweet, perfect vanilla flavor and enough heft to not puddle when sliced.

My life is now complete.

I can no longer give Katie a hard time for her baking insanity, not without being a hypocrite, anyway.  Oh well, it won't be the first time and probably not the last either.  Love you Wifey for joining my madness.

I sure hope there are these ingredients in the place I end up after I die.

{He Said} A Grand Day Out

This past weekend the parental units came to visit us in Portland.  We had fun showing them all that is weird and wild in the big city.  Given that this was the mission the first stop had to be the Portland Farmers Market.  This allows for some of the best people watching in the city and given my parents have never lived outside of small town Idaho it promised entertainment for all involved.

We had excellent tamales, we had gone to breakfast at Pine State the day prior so I didn't think that I could handle another day of the Reggie (that they were not at the market this day also played a role).  For those of you who have not been to visit us Portland is GREEN.  Not just the color but the mindset.  Because of this we ate our tamales with forks that could be composted.

I do not like compostable utensils, starch is not supposed to be part of silverware!

Compostable forks July 2010 ~ By Katie

We then went to the Rose Garden.  Where we found this couple sleeping on a bench.  It reminded me of the poem of the woman who swallowed a fly.  I am pretty sure I saw a least a couple go down the hatch.

Rose Garden July 2010 ~ By Katie

Now for those of you that are ashamed of me for putting up pictures of couples sleeping on a bench in the middle of a park don't worry, I am related to them.  Should I worry?

Meet my parents.

Multnomah Falls July 2010 ~ By Katie

The next day we went for an afternoon drive and where we found a beach.  Just as I was getting ready to pull over we saw this sign.  I didn't think I should introduce this much of the big city to my parents so we just kept on driving.

Portland July 2010 ~ By Katie

Thanks Mom and Dad for coming.

{She said} Berry, berry good.

It turns out that there are some pretty amazing things about summer here in Oregon.  Feast your eyes, folks:

Obsidian blackberries ~ Oregon, July 2010 ~ by Katie

Last week, I skipped out on work a few hours early one afternoon and joined El Husband for an afternoon of berry-picking out in the sun.  I had never encountered honest-to-goodness fresh blackberries before moving here, and I will just tell you that the smell...oh, my goodness, the smell is sensational.

Standing next to Bart in a shaft of sunlight, listening to the thump of our pickings into the buckets, I realized that I was more content than I'd been in a long time. And that is a superb feeling. 

The Husband ~ Oregon, July 2010 ~ by Katie

I think I just may go back tomorrow for more...

{He Said} This week brought to you by the letters F and U!

Growing up it was the superstition of the parental units that all things come in threes.  The weekend started with this.  At least no one was hurt.

On a recent date we saw this sign (there are street car tracks all over the city) and had a chuckle with "there has to be a reason they put the sign up".

Well we now know why there is a sign.  Saturday we were enjoying a nice trip down to the waterfront after a Farmer's Market run for fresh produce.  Pulling up to a stop light (and street car tracks) I hear a crash behind and turn around just in time to see Katie going over the front of the bike.

Now those of you who know my sweet wife will also know her first thought after the wreck.

"Did anybody see that."

We got her safely to the sidewalk and as she is leaning against her bike she passes out into some bushes.  She proceeds to roll over and starts to spit all of the dirt out of her mouth (later she tells me that her first thought was "why are you waking me up from my nap").

After she passes out one more time and has a seizure like episode the inner doctor is now going through all of the possibilities of what went wrong.  None of them are good and all of them have some component of blood seeping around her brain/needing to go emergently to the operating room/going to die on me within the next hour.  

After a couple of hours at the University emergency department she was sent home with some very sore muscles.  Of note prior to going to the hospital Katie had to change out of her jeans because "I like these jeans and I don't want the ER to cut them off".  There was also eye makeup that had to be applied (no it was not mine).

This has taught me a couple of lessons:

1.  Never laugh at signs

2.  It is easier to be doctor to people you don't know

3.  Nothing can ever happen to Katie, I was a basket case on the inside

As for things coming in three's.

Feast your eyes on what I came out to in the parking garage.

At least we are safe now.

Unless things really happen in four's.

{She Said} That's just...swell.

I am genetically predisposed to a rather violent temper. 

{Case in point: the time my dad went berserk and brandished a firearm at some smart-aleck teens in a parking lot. 

In front of his mother and his two oldest daughters. 

But, hey, this here is a family-friendly blog and that's another story that we will not be telling at another time...

I'm just sayin' there may be a probable wellspring for these rants.}  

So, anyway, you may permit me the bit of rage that surged up when I walked out to the car for my drive to work this morning.

Minding my own business.
Juggling the purse, the lunch bag, the keys.
Reviewing the to-do list.
"Remember to do those co-worker evaluations/schedule the dermatology appointment/make sure that new suture arrived/am I on call this weekend?/ask April about book club/wonder how my patient from yesterday is doing...awwww, man.

Seriously?

So, today's checklist veered away from my previous to-do items and instead populated itself with:
"File a police report/call the insurance agent/find a glass repair shop/get resoundingly lost in Vancouver, Washington while trying to find the glass shop in north Portland, Oregon because I am NOT genetically predisposed to a good sense of direction and Mapquest has some outdated exit numbers and some effer stole our GPS from its well-concealed spot in the car/contact the adjuster with some serial numbers/go find myself good chocolate."

Ahem.  So the violent temper is now on a quiet simmer {lucky for the smash-and-grabber that they are anonymous}, and I'm off to see about that chocolate.

Hope your weekend starts off nicely, folks.

{She Said} Dinner is Served

Sometimes when my husband gets home from a long day, welcoming him home is my priority.  Maybe next time I should put the main course on the back  burner before the smoke alarm dinner bell brings me back to the domestic tasks, eh? 

 Dinner. May 2009, Portland.

{Yeah. The leaping flames were rather impressive. As for the stovetop, the hazmat cleanup crews have been summoned.}