A couple weeks ago went went to Seward Park and had some pictures professionally taken of the pregnant belly. Here's one of our favorites.
Not long now... 5-1/2 weeks left.
Showing posts with label Stacie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stacie. Show all posts
06 May 2009
19 April 2009
The Kid, cont.
“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life's realities.”
- Dr. Theodor Seuss Geisel (1904-1991)
Stacie went for another ultrasound this week and happily the placenta prævia is completely gone! And Sennet keeps growing, we've got less than 10 weeks to go and he's 16˝ and 5lbs 6oz. Stacie is doing good, but wonders how her belly could get any bigger...
Meanwhile, I've been working on some paintings for the baby's room. With apologies to Dr. Seuss, I'm enlarging two of my favorite childhood stories: The Cat in the Hat and One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. These are painted on board with acrylic, about 2 feet by 3 feet. I'll also be doing four smaller pieces to hang above the dresser, probably 8˝x 10˝. Thinking of the Star-Bellied Sneetches, "Thing 1 and Thing 2" from Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs & Ham, and Horton (from "...Hears A Who" fame). Later on I'll start working on some of my own ideas for some more paintings.
Not much longer now...
KJT - Seattle (2009)
16 March 2009
Big Baby
Placenta prævia is an obstetric complication in which the placenta is attached to the uterine wall close to or covering the cervix. It can some times occur in the latter part of the first trimester, but usually during the second or third. It is a leading cause of antepartum haemorrhage (vaginal bleeding). It affects approximately 0.5% of all labors.
We just returned from another ultrasound, and the news was all good.
In an earlier ultrasound, we discovered that Stacie had placenta prævia, where the placenta is covering the cervix, potentially making for a complicated birth or a C-section. On today's ultrasound the doctor said the prævia was diminishing on it's own and would probably be gone in a few more weeks. That was the news we were hoping for. We'll have one more ultrasound at about 34 weeks.
We also got a couple more pictures, and learned that Sennet looks like he's going to be a BIG BOY. We're at 26.5 weeks right now and he's already 13 inches and over 3.5lbs. Not overly surprising considering his father (moi) is 6´5˝ and about 230lbs, my father was about 6-foot, Stacie's father is 6´4˝ and I've got two cousins who are over 6´6˝. Big runs in the family.
To date we've had four parenting classes: Infant Safety and CPR, Conscious Fathering, Breast Feeding, and Newborn Care. I now know the proper rhythm for giving CPR to a baby (the same beat as "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees), the correct way to swaddle and sooth a baby, the proper way to 'latch on' to the breast, and how to (try to) have the Happiest Baby on the Block. I think we're ready to move on from the classes and try it for real.
Three months left to go...
KJT - Seattle (2009)
18 February 2009
To Snip, or Not To Snip?
Male circumcision is the removal of some or all of the foreskin (prepuce) from the penis. The word "circumcision" comes from Latin circum (meaning "around") and cædere (meaning "to cut").
So that's the debate we're having around the house these days. Do we have Sennet circumcised or not? (He's not due till June).
Neither one of us has terribly strong feelings either one way or another, so I thought I'd get some opinions.
Right now I'm probably leaning toward not having it done, since it's natural to have it (the foreskin), so why remove it.
I've done a little bit of research, including speaking with our OB-GYN, and it's no longer considered a medical necessity. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), global estimates are that 30% of males world-wide are circumcised. Seems the prevalence of 'the snip' varies mostly with religion and sometimes with culture. The WHO and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention give evidence that male circumcision significantly reduces the risk of HIV acquisition, but still only provides partial protection and is not a replacement for other disease prevention techniques. Duh.
The American Medical Association states, from 1999: "Virtually all current policy statements from specialty societies and medical organizations do not recommend routine neonatal circumcision, and support the provision of accurate and unbiased information to parents to inform their choice."
So there's my question to you:
Mothers: if you have a son, or have had the discussion, what do you think, yes or no?
Fathers: which decision did you make for your son? Or would if you had a son?
Ladies: have you been with "both kinds"? Any opinions on performance, presentation, grooming, friendliness?
Guys: Do you have strong feelings of your own either way? Why?
Please leave any and all opinions in the comments section, and thanks.
KJT - Seattle (2009) (Picture photoshopped this morning...)
The American Medical Association states, from 1999: "Virtually all current policy statements from specialty societies and medical organizations do not recommend routine neonatal circumcision, and support the provision of accurate and unbiased information to parents to inform their choice."
So there's my question to you:
Mothers: if you have a son, or have had the discussion, what do you think, yes or no?
Fathers: which decision did you make for your son? Or would if you had a son?
Ladies: have you been with "both kinds"? Any opinions on performance, presentation, grooming, friendliness?
Guys: Do you have strong feelings of your own either way? Why?
Please leave any and all opinions in the comments section, and thanks.
KJT - Seattle (2009) (Picture photoshopped this morning...)
18 January 2009
A Chance Encounter
(or "How I Met My Wife")
"Please Baby... Let's get it right
I don't think I can take it...one more night.
I know I love you, I love you, I love you as though the stars are mine
So please Baby, show me you are mine."
- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, "Please Baby" (1998)
In the late 90's I worked as a bartender at the Broadway Grill on Seattle's Capitol Hill. Capitol Hill is an eclectic, sort of arty, bohemian neighborhood - or it tries to be. It's where I lived, and it's also the predominant gay neighborhood in Seattle. The Broadway Grill was one of the main hangouts to see and be seen.
I was good friends with another bartender who worked across the street at a bar called Charlie's. She would come in to the Broadway and drink when she was off work, and I would go to Charlie's and drink when I was off and she was working. At that time she was also dating one of the female servers at the Broadway, and we would hangout for cocktails and whatnot occasionally.
On Valentine's Day of 1998, my bartender friend was sitting at my bar in the late morning. It was a Saturday and she had just had breakfast and was nursing a Bloody Mary. Her girlfriend would stop by and talk to her (and nibble off her plate) while she was working her own section of the restaurant. At one point they asked me what I was doing that night - since it was Valentine's Day. I laughed and told them I had no plans, since I wasn't dating anyone at the time. They invited me to go out with them to the Re-Bar that night. The Re-Bar is a gay (or gay-friendly, at least) bar downtown, just down from Capitol Hill. That night was Lesbians in Love night to celebrate the holiday. I laughed again and asked if they were serious. They both nodded and said that they were just going to hang out and play pool and they wanted me to go along. Since I had no plans, and would be able to hang out with two beautiful women, I decided to do it.
We got there around 9 or 10 pm, got some beers, and retired to the pool room to shoot a few games. After a while I wandered out to the main area, which had a large dance floor and a long bar at the back. I stood off to the side, leaning against the wall and nursed my beer. I watched the dancers and sighed at all the beautiful women who weren't playing for my team. There were a few men there too, in couples or by themselves - so I didn't completely stand out, but was certainly in the minority as a man, and even more so as a straight man. I noticed in particular a redhead dancing by herself at times, and with a few friends at other times. I have a particularly strong attraction to redheads (a compulsion really), and so I watched her with keen interest.
After some time the redhead broke away from her friends and walked directly towards me. She stopped in front of me and said, "Can I ask you something?"
Surprised, I stammered, "Sure."
"Are you gay or are you straight?" she inquired.
I laughed. It was a question I got a lot working at the Broadway. Most everyone assumes you're gay if you work there. But after they'd see me eyeing the female customers or comparing notes with the lesbians (we would give each other a 'head's up' if a particularly striking female would come into the restaurant) - they would often ask me exactly the same question.
"I'm straight," I replied.
"Thank you," she said, and immediately turned around, took a couple steps and yelled to her friends across the bar, "I TOLD you so!"
I stood there stunned and amused as she made her way back to her group of friends. I wasn't sure what to do next. She was beautiful and so I was certainly interested. But I realized with a smile that now I didn't know if SHE was straight or gay. I wandered back into the pool room to discuss the strange happening with my friends. They both demanded that I go talk to her, at the very least to see what persuasion she was. After a couple more beers and some more convincing (I'm a bit shy) I decided that I didn't have anything to lose and that I should at least find out her name and what her forthright question and odd response to my answer was all about.
I made my way back out to the bar area and scanned the crowd. For a moment I was afraid she might have left. Then I spotted her standing near the bar.
I approached her and said, "Can I ask you a question?" She smiled and said, "I'm straight. I'm just here with my friends dancing."
I smiled back and said, "What's your name?"
"Stacie," she replied.
"I'm Kevin, would you like to dance?" It was the only other thing I could think of to say.
It should be pointed out at this time that I do not dance. Or at least, if I do dance, I don't dance well. I would be the visual definition of the stereotypical non-rhythmic white-guy. I'm probably not as bad as Elaine Benes from Seinfeld - but I'm really (really) not a good dancer. But I had nothing else at that moment, so we danced. I do like to dance, if I'm tipsy enough not to feel too self-conscious. So we danced. And it was fun. She had a great smile, and she, at least, could dance. I shuffled and flapped about and watched her move smoothly to the beat of the music.
The night got late and I had to open the bar the next morning - being there at 7 am. Gotta be ready to serve the morning drunks their Bloody Mary's right on time at 8 o'clock. Even had one guy who would be there at opening to have a straight shot of Rye whiskey. I decided to try to play it cool, and so I told her that I had to go. I told her I wanted her number, but that I probably wouldn't call her. I told her that I would love to see her again and that I worked at the Broadway Grill and that if she came in while I was working I would buy her a drink and we could talk. Then I left.
It was a good walk home, as I felt exhilarated and alive. Happy. The cold February chill sent shivers through my body as I smiled and thought of the redhead.
It was a few days later that she came in to the bar. It was a weekday evening and I was tending alone. She came up and sat at the first stool and said, "Hi, do you remember me?"
I said, "Sure, Stacie right?"
She nodded and I held out my hand and said, "Kevin. Nice to see you again."
She stayed there for a few hours and we got to know each other a bit better. I had one ticket to see "Big Bad Voodoo Daddy" that Friday night at the Fenix Underground, a club downtown. I asked her if she wanted to go with me. She said she would and we made a date to meet at the J&M Café in Pioneer Square that night before the show.
Friday night at the J&M, and she was right on time. We had a couple cocktails (Tanqueray & Tonics - it would become our signature drink) and made small talk for a bit. Then we walked over to the Fenix. I had my ticket and had planned on just buying one for her at the door. When we walked up I saw, to my dismay, that the show was sold out. I asked the door guy if there were any tickets left and he shook his head.
At the spur of the moment I surreptitiously slid a twenty dollar bill onto his clipboard and asked him to check and see if she was on the "guest list." (I think I even used air quotes). He stared at me for a moment, probably saw the pleading look in my eyes, looked down at his clipboard again, and said, "Oh yeah, here she is."
I was astounded. It actually worked. It was like a scene out of a movie. A river of relief flooded my veins. He stamped us both and we went inside. The band was rocking and we danced, laughed, and partied through the night. To this day I still crack a smile when I hear Big Bad Voodoo Daddy play "You and Me and the Bottle Make Three Tonight."
And that, my friends, is the story of how I met my future wife.
KJT - Seattle (1998)
On Valentine's Day of 1998, my bartender friend was sitting at my bar in the late morning. It was a Saturday and she had just had breakfast and was nursing a Bloody Mary. Her girlfriend would stop by and talk to her (and nibble off her plate) while she was working her own section of the restaurant. At one point they asked me what I was doing that night - since it was Valentine's Day. I laughed and told them I had no plans, since I wasn't dating anyone at the time. They invited me to go out with them to the Re-Bar that night. The Re-Bar is a gay (or gay-friendly, at least) bar downtown, just down from Capitol Hill. That night was Lesbians in Love night to celebrate the holiday. I laughed again and asked if they were serious. They both nodded and said that they were just going to hang out and play pool and they wanted me to go along. Since I had no plans, and would be able to hang out with two beautiful women, I decided to do it.
We got there around 9 or 10 pm, got some beers, and retired to the pool room to shoot a few games. After a while I wandered out to the main area, which had a large dance floor and a long bar at the back. I stood off to the side, leaning against the wall and nursed my beer. I watched the dancers and sighed at all the beautiful women who weren't playing for my team. There were a few men there too, in couples or by themselves - so I didn't completely stand out, but was certainly in the minority as a man, and even more so as a straight man. I noticed in particular a redhead dancing by herself at times, and with a few friends at other times. I have a particularly strong attraction to redheads (a compulsion really), and so I watched her with keen interest.
After some time the redhead broke away from her friends and walked directly towards me. She stopped in front of me and said, "Can I ask you something?"
Surprised, I stammered, "Sure."
"Are you gay or are you straight?" she inquired.
I laughed. It was a question I got a lot working at the Broadway. Most everyone assumes you're gay if you work there. But after they'd see me eyeing the female customers or comparing notes with the lesbians (we would give each other a 'head's up' if a particularly striking female would come into the restaurant) - they would often ask me exactly the same question.
"I'm straight," I replied.
"Thank you," she said, and immediately turned around, took a couple steps and yelled to her friends across the bar, "I TOLD you so!"
I stood there stunned and amused as she made her way back to her group of friends. I wasn't sure what to do next. She was beautiful and so I was certainly interested. But I realized with a smile that now I didn't know if SHE was straight or gay. I wandered back into the pool room to discuss the strange happening with my friends. They both demanded that I go talk to her, at the very least to see what persuasion she was. After a couple more beers and some more convincing (I'm a bit shy) I decided that I didn't have anything to lose and that I should at least find out her name and what her forthright question and odd response to my answer was all about.
I made my way back out to the bar area and scanned the crowd. For a moment I was afraid she might have left. Then I spotted her standing near the bar.
I approached her and said, "Can I ask you a question?" She smiled and said, "I'm straight. I'm just here with my friends dancing."
I smiled back and said, "What's your name?"
"Stacie," she replied.
"I'm Kevin, would you like to dance?" It was the only other thing I could think of to say.
It should be pointed out at this time that I do not dance. Or at least, if I do dance, I don't dance well. I would be the visual definition of the stereotypical non-rhythmic white-guy. I'm probably not as bad as Elaine Benes from Seinfeld - but I'm really (really) not a good dancer. But I had nothing else at that moment, so we danced. I do like to dance, if I'm tipsy enough not to feel too self-conscious. So we danced. And it was fun. She had a great smile, and she, at least, could dance. I shuffled and flapped about and watched her move smoothly to the beat of the music.
The night got late and I had to open the bar the next morning - being there at 7 am. Gotta be ready to serve the morning drunks their Bloody Mary's right on time at 8 o'clock. Even had one guy who would be there at opening to have a straight shot of Rye whiskey. I decided to try to play it cool, and so I told her that I had to go. I told her I wanted her number, but that I probably wouldn't call her. I told her that I would love to see her again and that I worked at the Broadway Grill and that if she came in while I was working I would buy her a drink and we could talk. Then I left.
It was a good walk home, as I felt exhilarated and alive. Happy. The cold February chill sent shivers through my body as I smiled and thought of the redhead.
It was a few days later that she came in to the bar. It was a weekday evening and I was tending alone. She came up and sat at the first stool and said, "Hi, do you remember me?"
I said, "Sure, Stacie right?"
She nodded and I held out my hand and said, "Kevin. Nice to see you again."
She stayed there for a few hours and we got to know each other a bit better. I had one ticket to see "Big Bad Voodoo Daddy" that Friday night at the Fenix Underground, a club downtown. I asked her if she wanted to go with me. She said she would and we made a date to meet at the J&M Café in Pioneer Square that night before the show.
Friday night at the J&M, and she was right on time. We had a couple cocktails (Tanqueray & Tonics - it would become our signature drink) and made small talk for a bit. Then we walked over to the Fenix. I had my ticket and had planned on just buying one for her at the door. When we walked up I saw, to my dismay, that the show was sold out. I asked the door guy if there were any tickets left and he shook his head.
At the spur of the moment I surreptitiously slid a twenty dollar bill onto his clipboard and asked him to check and see if she was on the "guest list." (I think I even used air quotes). He stared at me for a moment, probably saw the pleading look in my eyes, looked down at his clipboard again, and said, "Oh yeah, here she is."
I was astounded. It actually worked. It was like a scene out of a movie. A river of relief flooded my veins. He stamped us both and we went inside. The band was rocking and we danced, laughed, and partied through the night. To this day I still crack a smile when I hear Big Bad Voodoo Daddy play "You and Me and the Bottle Make Three Tonight."
And that, my friends, is the story of how I met my future wife.
KJT - Seattle (1998)
02 January 2009
Oh Boy!
"Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable."
- Plato, Classical Greek philosopher, mathematician, writer (428/427 BCE – 348/347 BCE)
Just back from the doctor's... and we are going to have a boy!
Introducing: Sennet Tiernan Timmermans.
Sennet, from the French, meaning wise (pronounced 'senate').
Tiernan, from the Irish, meaning lord, master, regal.
Timmermans, from the Dutch, meaning carpenter.
I'm totally psyched, and truthfully, a bit relieved. I didn't really feel like I was leaning one way or the other in gender preference. But now that we have found out I see that, perhaps subconsciously, I really did want a baby boy. Carry on the family name, and all that hooey...
And from the looks of things, both Stacie and the baby are doing great. Again, another big relief.
The adventure continues...
KJT - Seattle (2009)
13 November 2008
Il Bambino
"Kid, my only kid
You look so small..."
- The Pretenders, "Kid" (1980)
Our kid. Just a blip on the radar screen...
The first of what I'm sure will be many
(pictures, not kids!)
See previous post for full details.
- KJT, Seattle (2008)
10 November 2008
Changed Priorities Ahead
"I don't care what nobody says,
We're gonna have a baby..."
- Kings of Leon, "Knocked Up" (2007)
Sitting here in the dark, a glass of scotch in hand (two cubes), rain lashing the windows. The lights of Seattle are lit in refraction through the drops sliding down the outside of the pane. The trees are being tossed in the wind. High clouds sail past the waxing moon. King's of Leon pumping out some grooves on the stereo. The dogs are resting at my feet. Stacie's asleep upstairs. I have a warm feeling inside, much deeper than the scotch can ever reach. My life as I know it is about to change. For the better? Yes, I believe it will be. Going to be difficult, to be sure - but I have a feeling the rewards will be worth it.
(KINGS OF LEON, "KNOCKED UP" Live)
Changed priorities, indeed. We're having a baby. Projected due date: June 13, 2009, six days before our 5th wedding anniversary.
We decided to start trying a couple of months ago after some long conversations. We had hoped we might get pregnant by the spring - so much for that. Didn't even take a month.
Some words associated with this: excitement, terror, anxiety, joy, anticipation, expectation, worry...
So now we take a deep breath, cross our fingers, and jump into the deep end.
A thousand thoughts ricocheting around the inside of my melon:
We decided to start trying a couple of months ago after some long conversations. We had hoped we might get pregnant by the spring - so much for that. Didn't even take a month.
Some words associated with this: excitement, terror, anxiety, joy, anticipation, expectation, worry...
So now we take a deep breath, cross our fingers, and jump into the deep end.
A thousand thoughts ricocheting around the inside of my melon:
How will I ever live up to the example my parents gave me as, well, parents? Wish my dad was still alive. Where can I buy Dr. Suess books? How soon can the kid start eating broccoli? Will I ever figure out how to text on this damn cell phone? Will we have to watch Barney? How soon can we all go camping, or hiking, or swimming? When is too soon to read The Old Man and The Sea to a baby? Or exposure to The Clash? Will the kid like metal, or rap, or alternative, or (gulp) country? Surely not new country. (Johnny Cash or Hank Williams is acceptable). Will the baby be an artist, a writer, a musician, a rodeo clown? What will the dogs think? I know Stacie will be a great mother, I just hope I'll be a good father. Should we look into an Ivy League school or a state university? Is Tom Waits appropriate for young ears? Miles Davis? Monk? Coltrane? Mingus? Will we still be able to travel? Will the kid like Peru? I bet he/she would dig Machu Picchu. How do you say 'baby' in Portuguese? Wait, they speak Spanish in Peru. So that would be 'bebé'. I like bambino better. So Italian it is. The kid will definitely learn foreign languages.
I think my head is going to explode...
Any and all hints, ideas, and/or wisdom will be appreciated.
Any and all hints, ideas, and/or wisdom will be appreciated.
KJT - Seattle (2008)
(Sign pic by my sister in Oxford, 1996 / Stacie & I, by me in Salzburg, Austria 2005)
08 October 2008
Tejas Bound
"Out in the west Texas town of El Paso,
I fell in love with a Mexican girl..."
-Marty Robbins, "El Paso" (1959)
Well, Stacie isn't Mexican, she's a mix of Irish, French, and American Indian, and I didn't meet her in a west Texas town, I met her in a gay bar in Seattle... but I love, love, love that Marty Robbins song and it's about Texas and that's where Stacie is from... so... anyway, that's where we're heading. To hang with my in-laws for a few days, gorge on some Tex-Mex, some chili, some BBQ, drink some Shiner Bock, have some Blue Bell Creameries ice cream, and then creep up and stay with my sister for a couple days before heading back home.
A mini-vacation.
(And although I say 'meh' to the last couple decades of ZZ Top's music, their 70's stuff rocked. So there.)
KJT - Tejas (2008)
10 September 2008
Surprise, surprise, surprise...
"The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise.
It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us."
- Ashley Montagu, British-American humanist (1905-1999)
So my wickedly clever and wonderfully devious wife leads me to believe we are throwing a surprise party for a friend of ours. It's going to be at our house, in our backyard, and we are having a huge New Orleans buffet feast: red beans & rice, andouille sausage gumbo, fried catfish, shrimp/bacon/cheese grits, seafood enchiladas, macaroni & cheese, strawberry cake, peach cobbler, and we hired a bartender to work the party too.
I'm up for it, sounds fun, etc. Then she tells me that I have to go to the airport and pick up our friend's brother. I grumble at this, whine a bit, but end up going out to the airport. I'm slowly cruising past the arrivals and I see this guy pointing at me and smiling. As he starts running towards me I realize it's an old friend from my Colorado days, who has lived in Tennessee since the early 90's. We still communicate fairly often, but I've only seen him once or twice in almost 15 years. My first thought is, "Wow, he must be out here for business - how random that I see him at the airport." Then he opens the door, throws his bag in the back, and climbs in. "Surprised to see me?" he laughs. I just stutter. "You'd better call your wife," he says. I just mumble, "What, uh, what?" I'm completely confused at this point. He laughs again, "Just call your wife."
Turns out the 'surprise party' is for me, for my 40th birthday. This is quite a surprise, since my birthday is at the end of December. Told you she was devious, and the weather out here in Seattle is much more conducive to parties in September than in December. We had 40 or so of our best friends, including my mother and a few old ones I hadn't seen in ages. Great food (my wife is an amazing cook), beautiful weather (upper 70's), great bartender, lots of mojitos, way too many shots of Jameson and Bushmills (not one for religious discrimination am I), numerous beers, the dogs and cat, the sweet sounds of Dr. John, Rebirth Brass Band, Big Sam, Professor Longhair, and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band. We were all in our cups late into the night (early morning actually).
It was a blast. Wish my sister could have made it too, but she's on secret work detail for the government (very hush, hush!). She called and laughingly wished me an 'early' happy birthday. Good times...
KJT - Seattle (2008) Kaiser guarding the food, pre-dinner drinks as the sun sets...
19 June 2008
El Aniversario
"A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love,
trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity.
The order varies for any given year."
- Paul Sweeney, American writer
We rented a villa on a cliff overlooking the bay. It had five different levels, nine bedrooms, a swimming pool on a wide balcony, a pool table, and came with a cook and a bartender/housekeeper. We invited a small group of our closest friends to fly down and celebrate with us. It was June, the rainy season in Mexico. We were lucky during the days, the sun was out and it was hot. Every evening the clouds and wind would roll in from the west and there would be fantastic lightning storms out over the bahía de banderas. We would all sit out on the balcony in the warm rain, drinking margaritas, Mexican beer, mojitos, and watch the white sheets explode out over the water and slash down to strike the surface. It was beautiful and terrible. The days were spent snorkeling, shopping, deep sea fishing, swimming, and just lounging about. We would read for a bit, and then the housekeeper might ask if we wanted a drink or a shrimp quesadilla and perhaps some guacamole? "Splendid idea," we'd say.
On the afternoon of the 19th, we all went out to Le Kliff and Stacie and I were married in a semi-traditional Mexican ceremony. She wore a beautiful pale pink sun dress and I had on hemp cotton pants, a Mexican shirt and sandals. The short, succinct ceremony was on a promontory out above the water of the bay. Afterwards we all traipsed up to the restaurant above and had a gigantic feast. Lobster, shrimp, chicken, and pork along side fresh flounder, snapper, tuna, salmon and scallops. Margaritas and Sangria in bowls the size of your head. G got drunk and made an ass of herself. We all laughed. She played the fool quite well, and wandered off with a taxi cab driver. Back at the villa, we were all in our cups, jumping into the swimming pool, cracking more beer, laughing, playing, and watching the storm show out over the dark water as the warm rain washed us clean.
Best week of my life.
KJT - Puerto Vallarta, Mexico (2004)
14 June 2008
Friday Farmer's Market
"Let the stoics say what they please, we do not eat for the good of living, but because the meat is savory and the appetite is keen."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, American philosopher/poet (1803-1882)
"I am not a glutton – I am an explorer of food."
- Erma Bombeck, American humorist writer (1927-1996)
Stacie and I walked down the hill to our local farmer's market last night. We took Kaiser along to sniff and nose about. We browsed for something spectacular for dinner. We already had quite a full larder of vegetables, so unfortunately we had to bypass some wonderful offerings. We decided upon fresh homemade egg pasta: one package of Duck Ravioli (with carrot, onion, spinach, Parmesan & herbs) and one package of Goat Cheese and Veggie Ravioli (with bell peppers, zucchini, ricotta & bread crumbs). We also picked up some sourdough bread, some organic radishes to put on our salads, and a cup of fresh made marinara sauce. For a future lunch we also grabbed a package of homemade Jalapeno & Cream Cheese Tamales, and a small brick of Chile Chive Onion Gouda cheese.
Along with spinach salads we shared both pastas, the goat cheese & veggie ravioli with the marinara, and the duck ravioli with a tasty sauce of melted butter, sautéed garlic, lemon zest & lemon juice, oregano & basil. I caramelized a large onion to add to both dishes. Along with the fresh bread and a bottle of Dunham, it was truly a transcendent dinner.
KJT - Seattle (2008)
09 June 2008
El Jefe & the Hounds
"The more people I meet, the more I like my dog."
- Unknown
Stacie, Kramer, and Kaiser, the trinity that keeps me going.
KJT - Seattle (2008)
07 June 2008
Havana Dreaming
"The Floridita was open now and he bought the two papers that were out, Cristol and Alerta, and took them to the bar with him. He took his seat on a tall bar stool at the extreme left of the bar. His back was against the wall toward the street and his left was covered by the wall behind the bar. He ordered a double frozen daiquiri with no sugar from Pedrico, who smiled his smile which was almost like the rictus on a dead man..."
-Ernest Hemingway "Islands in the Stream" (1970)
We started off the evening at the Floridita, where Hemingway used to get his daiquiris. We then walked from café to café in the warm, fragrant air. The exotic sounds of the guajira, son, and changuí music danced and intertwined with the clink of glassware and the low murmur of tableside sonnets. The warm Caribbean wind brought the smell of the sea to the outdoor courtyards and patios. The mojitos, beer, and cigars left us with a heady feeling of tranquility and peace. These were the Halcyon nights of our honeymoon.
KJT - Havana, Cuba (2004)
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