Pancakes c/o M. Lady

So I arrived in Philly on Tuesday and on Thursday I departed for Chicago, arriving very late and after a two hour stupid delay. M. Lady was gracious enough to host me and said something that made my heart smile...basically that my being there seemed normal. Implied in the statement was the 'not that you've been gone for two years'. We went to a nearby bar for one beer and then returned back to her abode, where we went to sleep with dreams of sleeping late and shopping on the tips of our brains. The next morning M. Lady made pancakes for us. The recipe she used made me skeptical but unnecessarily so, a wonderful way to start what ended up being quite a nice day.

Frissee Sald c/o Kite and Key

I got back in town on the ninth, and promptly found myself at a loss. Suddenly I had a roommate. Suddenly all the birds were sparrows or robins. Suddenly spacing out wasn't quite as peaceful. So when B. texted me to let me know that some of the gals from the office were going to Kite and Key, I was quick to seriously consider joining them...especially since there was nothing in the house to eat. I went and ordered one beer and the frissee salad (all the ingredients of a salad lyonnaise under a different name). Unfortunately the quality of the lardon was lacking, and the dressing (in my humble opinion) was too cloyingly sweet to go with the other components. It was better than nothing, but a little bit of a let down.
I think the transition from country to city, from basic solitude to the majority of my coworkers, was maybe not the best thing; it just made me miss where I had been, not be happy about where I was, which, if I think about it, is pretty much my constant issue with Philadelphia. I'm having a very hard time accepting the here and now.

A Little Purty on the Go

I drove out of Staunton in a timely fashion and headed back up to Philly. Here are a few shots I took while driving (sorry mom) and listening to Terri Gross interview Iggy Pop.

Seriously gorgeous. That is all.

Ribs Etc c/o Mill Street Grill

Since my 2007 car crash I have been far more aware of the risks of driving long distances, especially with a cat involved. One result of this increased understanding is my choice to break up trips longer than 8 hours. So, on the way back from Tennessee I, once again, stopped in Staunton. Because I am who I am, I had already done some research on a place to eat while in town and decided upon the Mill Street Grill. Situated along a small creek in what seems to be the heart of Staunton, the restaurant is one of two businesses in what appears to be a converted flour mill. I was drawn by their claims of having the best ribs...and an artichoke appetizer that sounded promising.
I have found that dining as a table of one sometimes leads to unsatisfactory seating. I understand, in one way, why one individual doesn't get to sit at a four person table, I do. But why the placement and lighting of the smaller tables must, necessarily, suck so much is beyond me. My seating was across from a line of booths with faux stained glass windows depicting scnes from what looked to be an Amish farm. My view? A wall with a fire extinguisher. The booths, as well as the tables two steps down and next to me, all had track lighting trained on their tables. I had the residual light from the plastic glass. If they had seated me in almost any other spot, the resulting images of the food they cooked would have come out far better. Now, I could have asked to move, but I didn't. The artichoke hearts, stuffed with homemade boursin and then fried were not as delicate as I had imagined they would be...I think I was imagining a tempura-like batter, whereas these were more heavily battered and heartily fried...in some way they reminded me of overfried crab rangoons. Their accompanying dipping sauce also had a Chinese restaurant taste to it (that hot mustard plus something). The ribs were good, almost two sweet in that first bite but with a sneaky heat to them. I do not, however, think they were the best ribs I've ever had....the leftovers did come in handy the next day when I had to trick Zul into taking a tranquilizer.

Hurt Feelings

House Dreaming For Poor Me

It's happening again, this insatiable desire to picture myself in a different place.

A nice little stream, a few acres, the bathroom looks cute too. I wonder why they don't really show the outside of the house.

This one looks good in the snow and in the sun.

I could finally have my own chicken coop.

If I knew how to fix things, this would be a great deal.

This river bungalow continues to haunt me...this one too.

I'm interested in more southerly locations too...can anyone think of any warmer climed areas with the same beauty of the mid-Hudson Valley...and the same great food culture? Country or small town preferable to city...though being within two hours of a metropolis would have its uses.

Last Night in Sewanee: Lake, Steak and Hamment

Later on I met up with J.D. It was our respective last nights in town as J.D. would be departing for Africa the next day and I would be heading back north. J.D. was still pulling all his stuff together for his two month visit to Malawi, so I got to see some of his gear...like this tent hammock. A tentock. Or a hamment.
His sister was also going to Africa, so in the days leading up to their departure J.D. had been giving some her a few language lessons.
After he got a few things done, we went to the Clifftops lake and swam across it and back...then rewarded ourselves with a steak sandwich J.D. prepared, as well as a shandy.
We fed some of the sandwich to eagerly awaiting fish.
It was quite pretty and we were the sole swimmers/dock sitters, which (like most all things) made it that much prettier. Other people blow.
It isn't very often that I spend so much time with people from my past, it's usually a weekend here or a dinner there, so to see J.D. in a more casual way, and over an extended amount of time, was quite nice. I have dreams of getting other people down to Tennessee so that it's not such a solitary existence, but somehow I can never entice anyone and maybe it's just as well, since I do like to be alone. Or do I? I think I do, but I think I like being alone because then I can engage in all my worst habits (too much television, wearing a slip as a dress, drinking at 3, dancing with my reflection in a window, spacing out etc) without anyone being the wiser.

Real Estate

The next day I drove over to my parents' friends' house. Over the last number of years J. has been building this house on his own and now it's complete. While I was in Tennessee I found myself watching a lot of the House and Garden television show House Hunters and have continued my obsession with the farfetched idea of owning my own home (student debt, car debt and a general lack of savings makes this something to put on the back burner) and seeing all that J. and D. have done to make their home especially cozy just made my brain explode a little.
They've got themselves a pond, and saw a heron.
Then D. drove us over to her friends' house to show me another possible house. They had done a lot of work to make their house a home and it definitely showed...and then there was the view.
And the lettuce.
And the view.
O.M.G.

Foster Falls

My second Saturday in Sewanee shaped up nicely. My cousin, his wife, their dogs and I all went to Foster Falls for another bit of swimming. The two preceding days had brought a fair amount of rain with them, so the water was running cold and fast.
I wished I had my 4x5 to take better photographs of the steep descent to the base of the falls, but I didn't.


Unlike Greeter Falls, which one could easily swim right up to and feel the pounding of the water, Foster Falls' added height and the recent rains made it pretty much impossible. Just trying to swim to the point where the falling water met the pool was an exercise in near futility...basically swimming against a truly strong current. Still, it was refreshing. The water was so cold that when I got out I had a few seconds where my brain and body just sort of went into a coma...of course, I was actually walking and talking just fine...but secretly I knew I was comatose. What?




The light through the trees, hitting the water or fallen mountain laurel was beauty-full.

Official

It's official:

I like Chicago more than Philadelphia. Oh yes, I truly do. I am such a hater.

Woodpeckers Are Heh-Heh-Heh-Heh-Ha

The next day got to see two woodpeckers peck at trees in tandem. Well, not in tandem really. But in trees nearby enough that, if I had the camera up to my face constantly, I could have taken quite a nice photograph...but noooo, they moved. This camera has been through a lot and I feel lucky and guilty and appreciative to have it but the truth is this: its zoom capacity is sorely lacking and its macro function and general focusing ability sometimes seems to be be fading. So these were the best pictures I could take.
This one, it may not be clear, is of the bird flying away. Just imagine what it would look like if I was a better photographer.
These birds never cease to impress and delight me. I think it's a combination of their sheer size, magnificent coloring (when I was in third grade I really, really loved the combination of red, black and white), their bird call, pretty much everything about the way they look and act is good in my book. One time, years back, one of these woodpeckers swooped right up to the house and started pecking at the rock. It seemed like it wasn't thinking too hard about it, wasn't hammering or overly searching like it wasn't really expecting to find anything, just passing the time. Casually- huh, I wonder what the equivalent action would be for humans. Playing with silverware without any intention or interest in eating?

Natural Bridge and Dog

After our walk we parted ways. I took a shower and then started to drive over to my parents' friends' house for a double birthday party. I realized that I was going to arrive a little too promptly, so first went to the natural bridge for a quick few photographs.
It's very pretty, and kind of scary. I didn't want to fall over to my death and have no one realize it was so for days, so I didn't walk across it.
Then as I drove to the party I came around a curve and saw a dog in the middle of the road. For a moment I thought that it was dead, and it really bummed me out to think about moving it or finding that it wasn't dead, just gravely injured. So I was glad when it became clear that the dog was fine, just taking a little break in the middle of the road. Didn't move an inch as I drove completely around it.
It had a Springer look to it, I thought.

Cross Walk Along the Perimeter

Another day J.D., his sister and I walked along the perimeter trail with the end destination being a giant memorial cross. This mission was successful.
It has been raining more this year, which has resulted in stronger waterfalls and creeks than in the last two summers. Woo. This log is becoming petrified maybe? I don't know why, but I'd like to think that's what is happening.
Terrible picture of these cute little red flowers growing in the rock.

The pay off for the not too rigorous, but definitely for me sweat inducing, walk was the great view of the valley and the sheer size of the cross.

J.D. and his sister did some yoga, I did not.

Foggy Doo

More shots of the foggy morning.

A fledgling bluebird.

Fog of Hunger

I have returned to Philadelphia against my will. These are two pictures of a foggy morning that led to J.D. and me not going to Greeter Falls as planned, I think. I forget what I did instead, probably read a book or watched a movie or five.
The problem with not having any food in the house is that there is nothing for me to eat.

I want some food. Sushi would be nice. Or a pizza. Or a sushi pizza. Or a salad full of chunky fresh veggies. Or. Or. Or. Gaaaaaah.

The Cat Exists

I have often referred to Zul as a rebound cat. He suffers for it. Trying to live up to Meow Cat's memory, trying to lessen his origin story, trying to make up for making me such a neurotic mess I crashed my car, trying not to puke and shed all the time. I suffer too. I suffer from my some time ambivalence towards him...or from my some time overwhelming paranoia that he is dying/depressed/insane and ready to eat my face when I die. Neither here nor there, I think that Zul enjoyed his time in Sewanee...far more room to call his own, bugs to eat as snacks (though I always worry that he's going to eat a brown recluse or catch heartworms), a more relaxed and present human being etc. The other night he jumped into my lap, nothing unusual there, and I grabbed the camera for a mini photoshoot.