Ahh Home Again

Friday night, we all decorated gingerbread houses (we've been doing it for over 10 years) and it finally started to feel like Christmas. It's hard to feel festive when the weather is 60 degrees and sunny. This year, since my parents are in an apartment until their house is finished, they didn't get a Christmas tree, so the gingerbread houses were the only decoration.

We also picked up our dog, Coco, from the vet where she was boarded while we were in Charleston and Savannah. It was great to spend some time with her before we left. She's and old lady now, so all of the excitement of other dogs wore her out. She mostly slept and hung out on the sidelines on Friday and Saturday morning.

We travelled back to Portland on Saturday from my parent's place in Florida and breathed a huge sigh when we walked in the door. Although we had a wonderful vacation with my family, it was nice to come home and sit in my chair, sleep in our bed, and eat at our table. We also came home to an arctic blast that has caused the temperatures here in Portland to linger in the mid 20s -- I was pretty much assured by numerous people that it never gets this cold in Portland, and snow is a rarity. Yesterday, we were pleasantly surprised to wake up to big puffy flakes. Finally, it feels like the holidays.

We took a walk yesterday just before sunset to pick up some basic food items -- our milk went sour while we were gone, so I was forced to put ice cream in my coffee for breakfast Sunday morning. Our walk was cold and very, very icy. I was shocked that the streets hadn't been salted at all. This morning the roads look like a nightmare, all of the black that you see (that looks like melted snow) is really just a giant sheet of ice. It certainly is pretty, though.

I'm glad I made a giant pot of chili to keep us warm for the next couple of days. I think the cold will linger for a little while.

1852 Rowhouse

Our apartment in Savannah was located in a 1852 row house that's listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The exterior is impeccable and has been well-kept. The inside, while clean and spacious, is crammed with knick-knacks, do-dads, and lots of lace. The master bathroom had a tub that was large enough for our entire family and there was a baby grand piano in the parlor.


The walls were clad in red damask wall paper that was punctuated by an array of prints ranging from classic impressionist paintings and rather strange posters from a bygone era. If we had chosen to soak in the family-sized tub, we could have set our sights on this scantily clad butt during our soak.

The lady (with clothes that somehow were run through a paper shredder) greeted us every day when we came home from touring the city. The shredded lady was sandwiched between a 1920s ad and a movie poster for Gone with the Wind. I'm not sure if Scarlett O'Hara would approve.

Unlike Charleston, Savannah was warm and balmy. The temperature hovered right around 65 degrees during the day, but the humidity hung in the air and made our hair unruly and our shirts damp -- even while just strolling along the streets. Despite the fact that it was the middle of December, the city was still beautiful. The fountain in Forsythe Park was still running and the trees hadn't yet lost all of their leaves.

We didn't tour any of the houses in Savannah, instead choosing to take a trolley tour. Our legs were tired after all of the walking around Charleston and we decided it would be a lot more fun to see all of the city and just hop on and off the trolley when we found a site that looked interesting. Of course we walked by the Mercer-Williams house that was a prominent setting in the book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Even without the history behind it, I think the house is pretty amazing.

One benefit of the accoutrement in our row house was the opportunity to channel our inner child. Katie and I had lots of fun on our last night in Savannah playing dress up with items we pulled off the walls, mantles (from the 5 fireplaces scattered throughout), as well as our bedrooms and the parlor. Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls in the dining room? Heck, why not?!

Jesse opted to watch rather than play along -- especially since the only thing left for him to wear was the undergarment to my lacy negligee. The woman who owns this house must be seriously out of her mind, but the lacy bedstead, flowery towels, and bizarre sense of style made for a pretty good time in Savannah. I don't think I've giggled this much in a very long time!

Christmas Vacation

In the wee hours of the morning on Saturday (4:15 am to be exact), J and I walked to the Max Red train bound for the airport. We had a very non-direct flight to Jacksonville, FL, first stopping in Minnesota (14 degrees), then Cincinnati (23 degrees and snowing) before landing at our destination. We took a puddle hopper from Cincinnati to Florida and because the plane was so short we had to board on the ground. It was cold.

Sunday morning J, my mom, dad, sister and I piled in our rented minivan and set out on I-95 toward Charleston, S.C. After stopping for breakfast, we were ready for the near 4-hour drive. The trip was relatively uneventful, except for J picking on my sister (like a true member of the family) and the traditional game of finding as many different license plates and yellow cars as possible.

From there, Charleston was literally a series of walks and meals. We took a night tour of the historic district that focused on crime (promising pirates, prostitution, and murder). I was pretty excited about the pirates. However, we mostly learned about ladies of the night, "Marys," prohibition, and Charleston's most hated serial killers. Apparently, Charleston didn't take prohibition very seriously and you could get your doctor to prescribe "weekend medicine" in case you couldn't possibly go Saturday and Sunday without your whiskey or gin. It's funny, we have a bunch of weekend medicine at home. Also, we learned the roots of the phrase "tap the admiral". I think that one has to be an urban legend.

On Monday, J had to sit in on a conference call for work, so my mom, sister and I walked down to the Charleston Market and checked out the local artisans. I found this cool basket and decided that it would look great in our apartment. (Disclaimer, it wasn't made in Charleston, but rather a group of women in Uganda.) Merry Christmas to me! It has been several years since I visited Charleston, so I was happy to just soak in the atmosphere and partake in the delicious cuisine. That leads me to the three highlights of our stay in Charleston:

1) Lunch at Magnolia's. J had the Low Country Bouillabaisse, which was out of this world, and I had Parmesan crusted flounder over Carolina rice cooked in a shrimp stock. This was the meal that displayed the pinnacle of southern cooking -- fresh ingredients, slow cooking, and delicious sauces. Also, rice isn't just a side dish here in South Carolina, it's a state of mind -- someday I hope to perfect my technique.

2) Lunch at Hominy Grill. On our way out of town on Tuesday, we stopped in to have lunch. The Hominy Grill is a little more "down home" cooking than Magnolia's, but no less tasty. I had a sesame-crusted catfish over fried cheese grits with sauteed okra and a geechee peanut sauce. J had a low country purloo, which is a rice casserole with sausage, shrimp and chicken. MMM!

3) Our stop at Middleton Place, which was an 18th-century plantation. We learned about the plantation through brochures found in various places in Charleston, but also when we visited the Old Slave Mart and learned that the beautiful French-inspired landscape was largely executed by slaves over the course of a decade. The skill required to create the terracing, the ponds and gardens was incredible. We spent over two hours walking around the grounds. Even in the middle of December, the landscape was breathtaking and I can only imagine how it must look when all of the trees and flowers are in bloom. I took tons of photos, but they'll have to wait until later.

No Time for Blogging, Dr. Jones!

I never got around to blogging about our Thanksgiving in Santa Cruz. We spent a wonderful week with J's family and I stuffed myself on delicious food and desserts. It was great to catch up with friends and share a holiday that I have yet to spend with his family. However, the details will have to wait until another time. Today is an unbelievably busy Friday that will only continue to get more hectic.

We leave for Florida to visit my parents tomorrow morning at 4:30am (so we can take the Max to the airport). Once we reach Florida, we will celebrate an early Christmas with my mom, dad and sister in Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA. There we will also stuff ourselves silly on delicious food and desserts. In another stroke of brilliance, I have yet to pack my things. In fact, I haven't even thought about packing my things. There really isn't any reason other than the thought of taking my clothes out of our suitcase, refolding and then putting them right back in has been physically painful. Ok, I exaggerate -- it's mostly because lately I have honed my procrastination skills in the absence of a real job. Now that I've left the packing to the last minute, the task will literally be physically painful. The whole right side of my body feels like it's been steamrolled from my little bike mishap yesterday. I groan when I sit and can't really lift my arm past my waist.

Oh and the reason this week was sucked into a black hole? Both of my contracting jobs decided they wanted to start on the same day, STAT! This week has engulfed me with mounds of paperwork, multiple security forms and background checks, as well as planning and scheduling with two different companies. I have a meeting this afternoon at 3pm, so this morning has been preparing (or rather refreshing my memory) to talk about stuff I knew really well 3 months ago. I'm not complaining. It's really exciting, but also poorly timed. I had more free time than any human being should be allowed all through September, October and November. December, however, is already jammed with travel.

J is also starting up a new job (just part time) with a company here in Portland. Even though he's only working a small amount of hours, they've been very welcoming and included him in the office holiday celebrations. I'm happy that we have a holiday party to attend this year! It's a pretty exciting time for us both. Things that we hoped would happen right after we moved are finally starting to materialize.

Bike vs. Erin 1:0

Today I ate pavement on my bike, or rather, my bike threw me onto the pavement. Don't worry, I'm alive and relatively unharmed. I protected my face with nearly every other part of my body, so my knee, elbow and palms hurt, but not nearly as much as my pride. My Electra Townie is certainly an ungrateful wretch, given that just minutes before launching me onto 10th Avenue, I had installed blinky lights for riding at dusk and filled up its tires for maximum coasting potential.

The real culprit? It's one of the things that I fear most, which is riding next to the streetcar rails. I tried to cross over the track and my wheel got caught in the groove. Instead of my bike heading to the right, it stayed put. Unfortunately, my body didn't get the message and kept going in the intended direction. The whole thing happened in slow motion -- I know this because I had an entire monologue in my head:

Dear god, not my face! We're taking family photos in just a couple of days -- not that I haven't taken plenty of photos with visible bruises and scrapes, but as an adult it would be embarrassing -- will I never outgrow my insane clumsiness?! Oh shit, flying to Florida with a concussion is going to suck, especially if I have to wear bandages on my head. Son of a @!$%^ I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon! How do you accessorize a head injury? Oh well, at least I didn't wear my good jeans and we didn't stop by the grocery store to get eggs. Shut up! Protect the face!

Now my bike looks a little worse for the wear (like someone unleashed a large dog in the basement and it found comfort gnawing on my seat and right handlebar).

Oh, and also, I ripped a hole in the toe of my 14-day-old shoes and nearly tore through my jeans. Now that I think about it, my big toe hurts as well. Overall? Shitty outing. However, I'm oddly not terrified of going back out again. Just pissed at myself for being a dumbass. Next time, though, I will insist on taking a different route.