Elegantly Random

5 years.

We just got back from a ten-day trip to Hawaii, during which we had a lot of fun and visited Oahu, Hawaii and Maui. It was magnificent. The excuse was our 5-year anniversary, though we definitely are big fans of travel and this had been on our list for a long time. I'm also on a big quest to finish seeing all 50 states by the time I turn 40, and this stop leaves me with just nine more to go. I am excited!

Those of you who know me personally know that I'm something of a control freak and a planner. I'm anal retentive. I'm organized. I get things done and I like them done just so. I make a lot of lists. I think things through carefully (and then think them through several more times) before doing them. It's what I do, and mostly it works for me - though it's not without its downfalls. Upsides to being super organized and anal and control-freaky: rarely have money problems, usually have a job, manage to avoid law-breaking and most major catastrophes due to good planning. Downsides: uber-stressful at times, can be a bummer when things don't go to plan.

Cue our trip to Hawaii.

I had built up this trip for months and months, and without delving into too much personal detail in a public forum (wait, wha? excersing restraint in the over-sharing department? who AM I?) I'll just say that I put several things on hold so that we could take this trip, and I really wanted it to go a certain way. I wanted it to be adventurous, high-energy and romantic. On top of that lofty list of goals and expectations, right before we took the trip, my new coworker said something that made me realize that Jay and I, despite doing a plethora of globe-trotting in the years we have been together, have almost never taken trips that were JUST the two of us. Because we live far from family and friends, most of our trips involve other people - which we love, but when I realized it...it really struck me. Wow. We haven't taken a trip that didn't involve work, family or friends, but was just about the two of us, in YEARS. And so that made me even more determined that our Hawaiian vacation would be perfect.

And then I woke up the morning of our departure feeling under the weather.

As a repeat bronchitis sufferer, I knew that was likely what was coming down the pike, and as we sat on the airplane for six hours on Friday night, I could feel it getting worse. Determined to have a great time and see all the planned sights, I woke up Saturday morning sure that I was better and decided to power on through, and we had a fabulous day of sight-seeing at Pearl Harbor and Waikiki. Hawaii was gorgeous and we were happy. But still, the lingering sickness was there and I knew deep down that it wasn't really out of me. Sunday morning I woke up and knew I was licked, and soon found myself in a doctor's office in Honolulu. We flew to Kona, and I felt worse. Arriving at our rental apartment, I broke down in tears, absolutely enraged and saddened to find myself on my long-awaited, much-anticipated trip...with bronchitis. I went to bed for several hours - cried myself to sleep, even. I was the picture of pathetic.

And then, something magical and very un-Sarie-like happened. I woke up, and I made a decision - not to let this ruin my vacation. Somehow, I said to myself, "Okay. I'm sick. It will take most of the week for me to get better. I will not be able to do all the things I had hoped to do this week. But maybe, if I'm careful and take good care of myself, I can still do some of the ones I wanted to do most, and surely I can still have fun. I'm in Hawaii. I can relax and enjoy the scenery. I can lounge under a palm tree just as easily as in my bed. I just have to avoid getting sunburned, get plenty of sleep and drink tons of water, and make sure to get enough rest."

It was like someone else invaded my body, some other person who wasn't a crazed planner from Planet Spreadsheet. And I did it, guys! I stayed positive. Sure, I caved to frustration for a few hours that afternoon, but after that? No. I had a GREAT vacation. It's true I didn't get to sea kayak as I'd hoped, and I had to modify my hiking and swimming plans, downscaling to manageable activities, and I had to plan in naps and restful activities that involved driving or sitting instead of scaling things and running around on foot. But it was still fun. And by Thursday, I had gotten 9-10 hours of sleep a night, snorkeled with sea turtles and manta rays and hiked through a volcano...and was feeling better. WIN! This is a good lesson for me - as much as it's awesome to be a planner, and I do that well most of the time and as I get older I do it with less stress - I am also able to live in the moment and adjust my expectations on the fly. I was proud of myself. *pats self on back*

Another magical thing about our trip, in addition to me learning to chill the hell out...I spent uninterrupted time with my husband. This probably sounds really stupid, but you know what? When was the last time you spent 10 days with your husband, or your wife, or your boyfriend or girlfriend or best friend or mother or ANYONE during which time you didn't watch a single tv show or movie, didn't get online other than to upload a photo or check a map, didn't do work, kept emails to a minimum, didn't work on any crafts or hobbies or do ANYTHING but hang out - and actually had a good time? I am gonna say I haven't done this with Jay in several years, and it wasn't for 10 days whenever we did it. It was AMAZING. It's funny. Even though I was sick and the trip maybe wasn't so romantic in the traditional sense, what with me hacking and coughing up a lung the entire time, it was ultra romantic in that I remembered why I like him so much, why I wanted to get married. Jay and I get along like gangbusters! Jay is funny! and fun! SO fun, in fact, that I didn't even MISS my television shows or my knitting (it's true, I didn't knit more than 3 rows the entire time I was gone until we flew back) or ANY of the daily circus. And that's how I know this is gonna last a lifetime, that I was smart to marry this dude. Because anyone you can spend 10 days with, sans media and diversions and while sick, and honestly say, "Wow, that was totally great," is a rare find. 

A treat from Down Under.

This week marks the beginning of the end of this summer's Parade of Visitors, which has been absolutely epic. But tomorrow, I must begin a new job (yay!) and go back to the real world. To cap off the manic and epic visitation schedule, my knitting friend slash all-around friend Ceylan came to visit. She arrived Friday and just left for the airport a little while ago, and we enjoyed several days of gabbing, sightseeing, shopping, pedicures, eating out, and of course, making stuff. But that wasn't the only reason for her visit.

I think everyone who's been a reader of this blog for a while knows that I'm a big, huge knitting nerd. I make wearable and usable items for myself and loved ones - much of it pretty neat stuff, if I do say so myself. And I get how, to the non-crafter, knitting might seem like an oddball hobby. But I've definitely made some of my closest friends because of knitting.

I've talked often here about Ravelry, which is basically a Facebook-esque social networking and hobby-sharing site for knitters, crocheters, weavers and spinners. It's a great website where you can post your project photos and notes, get ideas from others who have made what you're making, talk to designers and artists, and chat with other makers of things. It's pretty badass.

On the forums several years ago, I made friends with a lovely young lady by the name of Elin. She's Swedish-born, Singapore-raised and a current resident of Melbourne, Australia (and she will readily inform you that Melbourne is the best part of Sweden, bar none). We started chatting online after realizing that we liked a lot of the same knitting patterns and yarns and colors, and overall shared some style similarities and personality traits. We've been chatting regularly for a few years now. (I should mention that this is also precisely how I met Ceylan, who I now share an Etsy shop with). Ceylan and Elin were the first knitting friends I made online, and they also had been chatting for a good long time and are close.

A few months ago, Elin announced that she and her fiance James would be traveling to the United States for a couple of weeks, touring San Francisco, Seattle and New York. I was so excited! Finally, a chance to meet my Australian friend! I'm sure we both felt a little bit nervous at the prospect of meeting in person, but after such a long time chatting and sending each other little packages in the mail and generally getting well-acquainted, I was pretty sure that, as with my other knitting pals, it would be a breeze in person pretty quickly. Ceylan wasn't about to miss out on meeting Elin, so she decided to come up from Dallas for a few days to spend some time hanging out. So, on Monday night, after a few days together, Ceylan and I headed to SeaTac airport to pick Elin and James up...and we were delighted to find Elin every single bit as adorable and fun as we had expected. (Oh, and James is pretty great, too!)

Elin's visit isn't over yet - she and James will fly to New York on Saturday morning - but already I feel so lucky that my far-away friend was able to come to Seattle! We've done some sight-seeing and eating and of course knitting together, but I'm also making sure to give her plenty of time with her future husband, too. It's just so surreal, that this person who lives halfway around the world is finally here in the flesh! Each new friend I make is a gift, to be sure, but it certainly feels like special treat to get to meet someone from so far away. I'm already feeling a little bit sad that when I say goodbye to Elin, I won't see her again for a very long time! 

Which leads me to that all-important question...WHY hasn't the transporter been invented yet?!?! WHY?! I want to just step onto a sparkly platform and tell Scotty to beam me wherever the heck I want to go! That way, when I'm sick of the cold, dark weather in February, I can just get beamed over to Melbourne to hang out with Elin in the middle of her summer. Not to mention visiting all my other friends and family whenever I feel like it. Jay and I could have celebrated my new job by going out to dinner...in Paris!

Elin and I knitting on the ferry to Bainbridge Island, 9/13/2011

The Parade of Visitors

Jay and I do a lot of travelling. And we love it. But it sure is pricy, especially when much of it involves flying across the country now. Back in the fall, we purchased season tickets for the Seattle Sounders FC (pro soccer team). The price was shockingly reasonable, and we're both soccer fans, so we figured this would be a great incentive to spend our summer mostly in town, since we'll have a home game to attend a couple weekends each month. This tactic seems to be working. I will travel to Portland for a girls' weekend in July, and we've discussed maybe spending a weekend in Vancouver, BC, but otherwise we are here through the end of October, when we will have our big Hawaiian vacation (more details on that soon).

As it turns out, saying you're going to stay put for the summer can actually work in your favor when you live somewhere as gorgeous as Seattle. This summer's gonna be epic. We have already had three visitors since April, and will have (counting frantically on fingers) no fewer than NINE more rounds of visitors (solo guests and couples) between now and October 1. How awesome is that?! And one of the best things about all these guests? It's a great incentive for us to do things we've been meaning to, right here in our 'hood, but hadn't gotten around to yet.

In April, I spent a whirlwind couple of days with my wonderful friend Nicole, who flew here to go to a concert (Cut Copy) and hang out with me and our mutual friend Annie. We had a blast, touring the Pacific Science Center and Experience Music Project, two things right in my neighborhood that I hadn't seen yet.

In May, my sister came out for a few days. She'd been here before, so she had a bit of the lay of the land. But we took her to a Sounders game, to our new fave hole-in-the-wall Tibetan restaurant, and we caught the Broadway tour of Mary Poppins! Update: I forgot to mention our streaker-visitors, Joan and John, who were here and gone on the fringes of their fabulous Vancouver vacay! We were glad to share a Yankees loss at Safeco Field with them. :)

This past weekend, for the June installment of the Parade of Visitors, our friends Cheryl and Josh came up from Athens, GA for a few days. We were hit with a brilliantly warm, sunny weekend - the first four-day stretch of warm weather we've had this season - so we took them all over the place: across the Cascades to the high desert, along the Columbia River Gorge and into Portland, and then on a boat trip to the northern part of the Olympic Peninsula and Port Angeles. Awesome! We saw all the big mountains - Baker, Glacier, Rainier, Adams, St. Helens, and Hood - in all their splendor. We also explored the International District and found great dim sum and other delights.

In a few weeks, my work contract will end - just in time for the next round of visitors, friends from North Carolina who we plan to entertain with soccer, locally brewed beer and the great outdoors. Other summer visitor entertainment plans include trips to Rainier & St. Helens' National Parks, and hopefully some hiking in the Hoh Rainforest out on the Peninsula. Both our parents will come out for their first visits, as well as friends from San Francisco, Madison, Boston, Dallas, and even Melbourne, Australia!

Loving summer in the Pacific Northwest! Feeling so lucky to have friends and family willing to travel so far to see us and help us explore.

Pretty good year.

A couple of weeks ago, on February 28th, I celebrated the one-year anniversary of my new life in Seattle. Pretty amazing, huh? I can't believe it's been a year already. And look, ma! I didn't even get SADS!

The past 12 months have been insane. INSANE. I quit my job in Charlotte, I drove all the way across the country. I spent six (amazing, luxurious, fantastic, epic) months unemployed and started a handspun yarn shop. I flew to Paris, Warsaw, Maine, New York (twice), Charlotte, Washington D.C. and Dublin (whew!) and visited something like 18 or 20 states - more travel than in any other year in my life, I think. Two international trips in one year? Who am I, Paris Hilton? I took a new job, which has been imperfect but still good. It's been crazy!

Moving to a new city always involves a lot of adjustment. This is the seventh state I've lived in, and the eighth town, and with every move, things change. One of the greatest benefits to moving, as I've said before, is you get a chance to adjust things about your life and even your personality - the way you dress, the food you eat, the kind of work you do. You get to start over. And that's pretty thrilling for a lot of reasons. Those of you who know me know that I've changed a lot in the past year. My clothes are different, I'm more relaxed (no, really), I don't drive a car anymore, I've gotten up close and personal with the local crazypants population...all KINDS of things. And I've loved it all. Even the weather.

Yes, this rainy, depressing place I live in, as it turns out, is 100% perfect for me climate-wise. I don't find it depressing, not in the slightest. I've always loved winter above all seasons, and in North Carolina, I dreaded the heat of the summer unless I was at the beach. While I do miss swimming in the ocean, I can't say that I miss much else weather-wise. I enjoy the mild climate of the PacNW - wearing jeans all year is an enormous win, big enough to more than make up for the cloud cover and rain. And to be totally honest, I don't mind the rain. I don't think it's for everyone, but for me, it's fine. Sun is overrated! I'm going to have the most beauuutiful skin in the woooorld when I'm older.

Whenever you move, there's always a window of time when, even though you like your new home, you feel kind of out of the loop, or like you don't quite fit in just yet. You feel keenly aware of the things about you that don't quite work in the new place, and you want to hurry up and join in with the local culture. When I moved to North Carolina, it took about five minutes before I felt like, dang, I need a drawl! Right now! I started saying y'all and might-could just as fast as possible, so people would stop giving me weird looks for saying foreign and formal things like "You should come out for a drink after work." Um, check the memo, Hyde - that's "Y'all comin' out for a cocktail?!" 

In the South, there were lots of things I had to learn. I was too pale. I wasn't thin or athletic enough. I needed waaay more bright colored dresses and skirts made out of summery fabrics, and at least 20 pairs of open-toed shoes. I also needed a floppy straw hat, and a week's worth of swimwear. I never really developed a taste for sweet tea, which kept me on the cusp of acceptance every time I went to lunch with anyone, ever. I don't think a single lunch passed when I didn't get teased for ordering a Diet Coke. Not one. But I sure did learn how to sip a drink or five on a veranda and draaawl my words. I learned to take mah sweeeet taaaaaahmmmm doin' juuuus' about anythin', daaaahlin'. I learned to gossip about people and then say "Bless her heart" real quick to make it sound like it was a well-wish. I learned not to get upset when people were horrified by my politics. Not going to church was a constant issue for me, and made me feel like a freak almost every single day I lived south of the Mason-Dixon line. I'll admit it was a relief to leave that behind, though I doooo miss the juleps, daaahlin'.

After a year in the PacNW, it's hilarious to list the changes and adjustments, and think about how they vary. First of all, most of those bright sundresses had to go. Because even though the summer days are long and there's almost no rain from July-October, it's still not hot. And there's only so much use you can get out of a hot-pink sundress here. And you can go ahead and toss most of those open-toed shoes right along with them. I really should have mailed all that stuff to the Charlotte Good Will because it's probably still sitting untouched in the Seattle one. I ran out and bought myself lots of waterproof items from REI. I stopped sunbathing - because really, what's the point? I rekindled my love of indie music and busted out the old Nirvana and Pearl Jam albums - and damn if they don't actually sound BETTER here than they EVER did in Pennsylvania! I stopped driving and started walking and taking the bus everywhere. I learned the names of all the big mountains so I wouldn't sound like an idiot. I started shopping at the farmer's markets instead of the grocery store. I realized that my body was woefully lacking in tattoos and piercings and set about to remedy that. Hardest of all, I had to stop talking to every single person I passed on the street or encountered during the day - that's probably the one thing I miss most about the South. It was a hard habit to get into living in Charlotte, but now I'm finding it hard to break. I miss every single person being my best friend! Ha, ha.

You know what makes me feel like the biggest freak now? It's not the fact that I'm pale as a ghost when I used to be super tan. It's not that I still catch myself saying y'all in spite of myself. It's that I haven't got a membership to a CSA. I'm serious - on the west coast, not belonging to a CSA is like a major faux pas. I think almost everyone I know belongs to one. I'm too type A to get a random box of food every week. "What do you MEAN I can't personally select all of my veggies!?!?!? But I have to plan out all my meals several weeks in advance!!!!!" To think that one year ago, my heathenistic ways were my biggest cross to bear, and now it's that I don't get a weekly farm box - that is funny.

Cheers, Seattle. It's been a good year.

If you've made a move, big or small, in your life, I'd love to hear about how things changed for you!

Dubliners

I need to hurry my ass up and write about the Ireland trip before it totally fades from my memory. And let's face it - given the amount of alcohol I consumed on the trip, this is a very real possibility.

First, let me say that I think all the Hydes/Hydebergers would agree that traveling to Ireland together was well-worth skipping Christmas. Jay and I had a nice day to ourselves in Seattle, while the rest of my family was snowed in in Bar Harbor, but by the time December 30 rolled around, the storms had stopped and we all made it to Philadelphia at the prescribed time. We met up at the US Air club and hung out for a few hours, sipping cocktails to ready ourselves for the big flight.

Waiting to fly!

The journey overseas was uneventful...once we got going. After beginning to taxi, our pilot announced we would return to the gate while they TRIED TO START ONE OF OUR ENGINES. Which wasn't firing. Awesome. We were then informed that the plan was to manually crank it to start it and then hurry up and take off. So...basically they gave the plane a hand job to get us going, and we prayed it made it over the seas. Eeeek!

We landed in Dublin on Friday morning, Dec. 31, and made our way to our apartments. We stayed at the St. Augustine Apartments near Christ Church, right along the River Liffey (on the south side). It ended up being so perfect - we were within walking distance (20 minutes or less) of most of the main attractions in Dublin, and walk we did. We got some lunch at Wagamama (Jay insisted) and then took a nap to fight off the jet lag - just in time to bring in the new year!

Siblings ringing in the new year in Dublin

After a really nice dinner at Bang, we made our way to Christ Church, where thousands of people had gathered to hear the bells ring. (Click the link to read about what makes the bells at Christ Church special). That was pretty great. When Dad got hugged and kissed at midnight by a drunken Irishman, we knew the trip was off to a good start. Mom and Dad headed off to sleep while Maggie and Jeremy and Jay and I spent several hours at The Brazen Head pub ringing in the new year with a bunch of drunken Brits who loved Oasis.

New Year's Day was spent somewhat quietly, as a lot of things were closed. After a good long sleep and a late breakfast, Mom and Maggie and I walked through St. Stephen's Green and knit at Neary's Pub while the boys attended a rugby match. Later that night, we got our first taste of traditional music at the nearby Brazen Head Pub, which sort of became our go-to spot for dinner and music. Trad music is probably the best thing about hanging out in Irish pubs.

Sunday we started sightseeing in earnest, spending the morning at Kilmainham Jail (creepy) and then walking around Trinity College. That evening, Maggie, Jeremy, Jay and I attended the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, in which a couple of actors took us around to famous pubs where Dublin's most notable writers once hung out, and performed songs and scenes at each stop. It was so much fun!

Me, avec jaunty hat, at Kilmainham Jail

By Monday morning, we were ready to adventure outside of Dublin. First thing in the morning, we hopped a train to Kilkenny, about a two hour journey, and checked out Kilkenny Castle and the adorable town. The castle, which dates back to 1195, stands along the River Nore and is missing an entire wall, which is pretty interesting. Also in the town are several really impressive churches, including St. Canice's Cathedral, which is the second largest cathedral in Ireland after St. Patrick's in Dublin, The Black Abbey, dating to 1225, and St. Mary's Cathedral. You get a lot of bang for your buck in Kilkenny, basically, and on the way to and from, lots and lots of fabulous green countryside, rolling hills, mountains in the distance, and of course, SHEEP. Monday night was spent with traditional music and pub food at O'Neill's, another favorite pub of the Hyde clan. Our tummies were stretched with Guinness and potatoes by this point.

Kilkenny Castle

On Tuesday morning, we decided to check out St. Patrick's Cathedral and the interior of Christ Church, both in Dublin. Both are gorgeous and incredibly old. St. Patrick's is the largest cathedral in Ireland, and while it's quite impressive, both Jay and I were struck by how pocket-sized it seemed in comparison to Notre Dame and St. Paul's (Paris and London, respectively). Inside both were gorgeous tiled floors, which really stood out. Also inside Christ Church? A mummified cat and rat, once trapped in the organ, written about by James Joyce, and an honest-to-god heart shaped box with a human heart inside. Exciting stuff, kids. This is why we fly across the pond. That and to drink excellent beer.

Inside St. Patrick's Cathedral

That afternoon, we trained from Dublin out to the nearby town of Malahide to check out Malahide Castle. Jeremy and I decided we would basically like to have it for our own. On Tuesday night, Jay and I decided to go on a little date all by ourselves, and we had a glorious feast at The Winding Stair restaurant (the famous bookshop is below, and Mom and I checked that out the next day).

Jeremy and I at Malahide Castle

On Wednesday, our party split up. Dad, Jeremy, Jay and Maggie adventured out to Galway Bay and took in many ruins, a fairy fort and the stunning Cliffs of Moher, while Mom and I adventured around in Dublin and shopped for souvenirs, toured Merrion Square Park, had a delightful lunch at an Italian restaurant, and generally relaxed. Also on the Sarah-and-Mom agenda was locating a suitable tattoo parlor for Sarah and Maggie's planned tattoo-getting outing on Thursday. That's right - the sister and I had decided to get tattoos while in Dublin, matching tattoos of the Celtic trinity knot or Triquetra. We're Irish and we thought this would be a really neat way to a) get tats (something we've both been interested in), b) remember our trip forever and c) bond in a sisterly fashion. But it was somewhat amusing for me to be touring tattoo parlors, having never been inside one before. Fortunately, I located Dublin Ink, which was hip, trendy and most of all, CLEAN, and made us an appointment. We all met up that night when the tour bus returned and had yet another pub dinner. By this point in the week, we had downed MANY a Guinness, each of us.

The Cliffs of Insanity! (for real!)
i.e. The Cliffs of Moher

Thursday rolled around - our last day, boo! In the morning, Jeremy and Jay went off to sightsee and Mom, Dad, Maggie and I checked out the National Museum of Ireland, particularly the Arts & History building. After a light lunch, Maggie and I went off to be inked, and despite my nerves, it ended up being not too painful and a really great experience. Dad wanted to come, but we vetoed that, so the boys headed off to the old Jameson's distillery instead. Maggie and I were pretty excited about our tats!

Sarie avec tattoo

After the tattoos were complete (watch me and Maggie get inked!), we had a celebratory drink and then went once more to The Brazen Head for a final evening of pub food (finally had my fish and chips!), last Guinnesses (they taste so much better in Ireland!) and traditional music. It was a perfect ending to a great week.

Jeremy and Mom enjoy final night at the Brazen Head

A few overall thoughts and impressions: Ireland is gorgeous, even in winter. It didn't snow on us and it barely rained, but I think that might have been luck. The weather was cold, but clear for most of our trip. And so green. Everything green. It reminded me a lot of Seattle in that regard. Also, the people were hands-down the nicest we have encountered yet. Everyone was so jolly, so proud to be Irish, and so in love with their country. It was nice to go places and meet people who were excited to see us and to tell us what to go see. Beer is a must. I usually don't drink it, but in Ireland, you gotta. And it was delicious. And also, if you like old things (castles, churches, ruins), Ireland is your place. Seriously, there's so much old stuff, you can't even blink or you'll miss something that dates back to like the 8th century. :)

If you want to see all the photos and videos (at least, all the ones I uploaded, you can check out my collection on Flickr. And if you haven't traveled overseas yet, for goodness' sake, skip Christmas and DO IT.

The holiday twist.

As many of you may remember, I've spent the past several years trying to sort out my feelings about the Christmas holiday. I've come to terms with my religious views (re: I don't have any, I'm agnostic), but it's still been a bit of a stumper how to enjoy the holiday season. I want to partake in the lights and the festive mood, but sans Jesus. Is that doable? I don't know...and I have a Jewish husband to bear in mind, too. We're working on it.

Also on the brain for the past few years has been the issue of gift-giving. I love giving gifts, and while I like the idea of someday having some kids and letting them wake up to a Chrismakkah morning full of dreidels and presents, something about it feels so commercialized and gross, you know? All that money spent mostly on things that are forgettable. It's something my family has been talking about for years now - maybe we should skip the gifts and just BE together and see how that feels. One thing we'd always talked about was maybe taking all the money we would have spent on gifts and transportation to be together for the holidays and instead taking a trip together.

Well, friends, this is the year. The Hyde family is issuing a moratorium on gift giving for the 2010 holiday season, in favor of (drumroll, please...)

 

HOLIDAY IN DUBLIN!

Yes, that's right, friends. The Hyde clan will be traveling to Ireland to ring in the New Year! I'm pretty pumped about this, I don't mind tellin' ya (said in an Irish accent, of course). There will be much revelry - and ale! So much ale! And stouts, and porters, and WHISKEY! In pubs with Irish people! Let's look at some more droll pictures, shall we?

 

Cool architecture!

 

PUBS!

 

Castles!!!

So you may be thinking, January? Ireland? Won't that be cold? In a word, YES. But friends, my parents live in Maine. It doesn't get much colder than Bar Harbor, Maine at the holidays, so really, it's sort of a toss-up. If I'm going to be cold, I may as well be cold in IRELAND. 

Also, it is absolutely true, we're finding, that we can go to Ireland for less money than it would cost us to go to Maine and buy gifts for the family. Amazing, no?

Jay and I will likely ring in the new year on an all-night flight across North America and the Atlantic and land in Dublin on the morning of January 1. We'll probably stay a week, and the family will all gather and make merry.

So if any of you have traveled to Ireland, I would love tips for things to do and see in Dublin - especially if you were there in the winter! And I'm also collecting information about their transportation options and things to see nearby. We Hydes like castles, and also pots of gold, if there are any to be found.

 

Weather report!

It's time for a weather analysis from the chick who just moved to Seattle! Yay! Da daaa da da daaaa...

Five months ago, while we were gearing up to move, we were bombarded with concerned looks and head shakes from our Southern friends who were quite positive that we would become seasonally affected by the grey gloom and doom of the Northwest. "It rains all the time!" "It's cold!" they cried. "You will freeze to death and be overcome with chronic cases of SAD!" After four months in Seattle, I can tell you, this is not so. 

However, toward the end of June I did make the mistake of saying, via Twitter/Facebook, that I was ready to see the sun. I got some shit about that from friends who were all too eager to point out that I had claimed to like the rain. "Aha! You DO miss the sun!" they chortled with glee. So, let's chat about Seattle's weather. First, the Myth and the Facts.

The Myth: It rains all the time, it's constantly cold and grey, and everyone is walking around with SADs.

The Facts: It rains more in North Carolina and the Northeast than it does here. It barely ever snows. What we get is cloudiness most days - not all day long, every day, but every day there is a chance of rain and clouds. Most days you wake up and it's cloudy, and drizzly, a fine, misty drizzle you can usually walk around in with no umbrella. And then sometime in the afternoon, the sun comes out and it's beautiful. Or the reverse occurs. But most days you do see the sun a bit. Also, it's gloriously green, the air is clean, despite it being a big city, and it smells amazing. The sun (rumor has it) is out for most of the summer with almost zero rain.

It is that last statement that led me to make my comment on Twitter about the weather. Hold on, let me dig it up for accuracy:

i don't like complaining about the weather, but i am ready for the sun to be out for a couple of days.Thu Jun 17 2010 12:31:30 (Pacific Daylight Time) via web

Now, I would make the argument that making one quasi-negative comment about the weather in the past 4 months is pretty darn good. Also, at this point, it was mid-June and people had been whining and whining about summer not arriving. It was unseasonably cool, like around 55-60, rainy - not drizzly. And you know, I can dig - if you only get 2 months of really perfectly sunny weather, I can sort of understand feeling a little pissed off and cheated if the warm days arrive late. So yeah, by that point I was ready for a little sun, not a lot, just you know, a little.

That said? I hated the heat of the south. H.A.T.E.D. it. Unless I was parked on a beach, I couldn't abide walking out my door to a 90 degree day, every single day. Or worse, because more than half the summer down there is over 100 degrees. Eff that! I hate being uncomfortably hot, and I can start feeling that way in the 80's usually, especially if it's humid.

But let me tell you a little story about 90 degrees here in Seattle, which it was yesterday and will be again today. 90 here is not like 90 there. 90 here feels like 80, because we are on the water, and because there is zero humidity. Also, our air quality is so incredible that the sky is BLUE. Not white, BLUE! It's amazing! Yesterday, Jay and I ate lunch outside and it was like the whole city had sprung to life. Everyone was smiling, wearing floaty skirts and cargo shorts and skateboarding and feelin' happy. It looked like a street scene in a musical right before everyone bursts into song. It was awesome.

So here's the deal. I fit well here, because I'm not a summer girl. I'm an everything-but-summer girl, and particularly, I enjoy bundling up in front of a good fire in a cozy sweater and some slippers with a stiff drink and a good book and some knitting. It's possible that a week ago I told Jay I was totally ready for fall. So the drizzly, damp weather we get here 80% of the year is okay with me. I'm liking it. It's not so wet you can't go outside, and it's not so cold you can't feel your toes either. I can deal with cool and damp, especially when the tradeoff is the amazing scenery we get.

But today, I'm enjoying this 90 degree day in which I don't break a sweat!

Crazy town.

A few days ago, residents in my building were informed that a series of fire alarm checks would be performed today in the new office suite downstairs. We were advised to vacate the premises and make arrangements for our pets, as they often become agitated when subjected to deafening alarms. So I decided that I would pack up a nice tote bag with a big beach blanket, some knitting, my Kindle, some homemade granola and a travel mug of tea, and take my dog to hang out in the park a block from my building.

It started out well. Dog and I headed out to Denny Park around 8:45 this morning, bag packed and ready to chillax. Ashley did her thing, going #1 and #2 and then minding me patiently while I found us a patch of grass in between the dozen or so homeless people dreaming away the morning.

That should have been my first clue, as we spread out in the morning sunlight and I sipped my tea. Denny is notoriously home to many a vagabond Seattleite. Just about every day of the week, you'll find anywhere from one to a baker's dozen of them camped out a-snooze beneath the shady trees, or sometimes even dozing on a park bench. 

The homeless folks in the Pacific Northwest are generally pretty harmless; oftentimes they're so bundled up you can't even see any skin, and most of the time they're just passed out. But there are also some certified crazies in Seattle, so you never really want to take any chances. I'm talking about the people who aren't sleeping - the people who are up and about, muttering to themselves, being generally weird. Like the chick I saw a few weeks ago downtown who was wearing cargo pants, a big backpack and no shirt. Like, topless. Or the old man I passed the other day who looked exactly like Gollum, complete with hissing and talking in the third person.

So, even though homeless folks in Denny Park are par for the course and I see them each and every day, I don't approach them, and I don't make eye contact, because you never know when one is going to wake up from his/her slumber, sit bolt upright and then rotate his/her head 360 degrees while projectile vomiting. Stranger things have happened.

Case in point: this morning. We'd been seated maybe 15 minutes. The dog was snuggled up at my side, I was knitting a baby sweater and reading Pride and Prejudice (again). And some weird guy just walks up to me and sticks out his hand. "I say hello to everyone I encounter, ma'am. May I shake your hand?"

Um, no. Remember the rules - we don't make eye contact, and we CERTAINLY don't make physical contact. Ever. No touchy the homeless person. So I sort of shake my head (sans eye contact) and say, "No, I'd rather not, thanks. Have a great day." Sounds like a dismissal, right? Not if you're BAT-SHIT CRAZY! Dude proceeds to pop a squat next to me (not on my blanket, thank God) and starts asking me whether or not I think he should quit his job, because he wants more than two weeks to do whatever he wants. He thinks he should be able to just get up and do whatever the spirit moves him to do that day, and his manager is a DICK who just doesn't FUCKIN' UNDERSTAND THAT! And more crazy jive talkin' happens, I ignore him, keeping one hand on the dog, who is looking at me like, "Uh...mom? Who the hell is this dude?" Finally I say, "Dude, I'm just trying to read my book here." And he gives me this pained look and goes, "This job is sucking away my spirit. Just like you are trying to suck my spirit RIGHT NOW!" And he runs away.

CRAAAAZAY TOWN!

Ok, fine, back to knitting/tea sipping/granola eating. MISTAKE #2. Do not bring food to the park! The homeless are like pigeons, and will swoop in begging for eats! Some random dude comes up to me and asks for a handful. I was like, "Uh, no, sorry." And he starts cursing and swearing. Really? Is this how my morning is gonna be? Fortunately a park employee happened by us and escorted the crazypants away.

After that it was smooth sailing for a while, UNTIL! Crazy person #3 walks into the park , passing just in front of me. I get this bad feeling that he's going to try and talk to me, so I pick up the phone to call my husband. While the phone is ringing, this man stops, backtracks a few steps to a bushy area, turns his back to me, OPENS HIS PANTS AND STARTS PISSING. RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. PISSING. I COULD SEE THE STREAM OF PISS BETWEEN HIS LEGS. OMG. I almost died right then and there. Seriously. This guy was no more than 50 feet in front of me, PISSING. And another lady was sitting on the bench just another 30 feet or so away. A nice, normal-looking woman, and she didn't even react! TO THE PISSING! THE PISSING THAT WAS HAPPENING RIGHT NEXT TO HER.

At this point, I'm thinking I've died and gone to Toon Town or something, because it surely can't get any more weird than it is, right? Until that same guy finishes his piss and saunters over to the center, nay, the very AXIS of the park, the circular area in the middle with a glorious flowerbed and benches all around. And there in nucleus of Denny Park, Seattle's oldest park, a beautiful public space, this man removes his shoes and socks, and his pants, YES, HIS PANTS, and stands there in his boxers and his jacket, cleaning his pants and socks and shoes over the garbage can.

Folks, it's official. I have arrived. I live in a bona fide BIG city, complete with an overflowing proportion of crazy. Seattle has now reached New York levels of crazy. Yes, it's true. All the stuff you normally chalk up to being "stuff that only happens in New York" happens here too, and although New York has more people doing weird shit constantly, the crazy sticks out more in Seattle because it's not as congested. So if you wanna see not only gorgeous scenery but some legit insanity, COME ONE, COME ALL, TO SEATTLE!

What would make me feel better right now is if some of you would tell me some of the crazy crap you've witnessed, so I can feel less cold and frightened and alone.

Destination: Adventure

In my twenties, I set a goal for myself to travel as much as possible, and I feel really good about the results. I just checked my tally, and I have made it to 40 states. Forty! All but Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, N. Dakota, S. Dakota, Nebraska, Idaho, Nevada, Alaska and Hawaii - and I'm betting I can knock at least 5 more of those off pretty soon, given my current locale. I visited London, England, Paris, France and Warsaw, Poland. I also lived in five states in my twenties - Ohio, New York, Missouri, North Carolina and Washington. These are not shoddy numbers, people.

My goal for my thirties is this - and it's inspired by a lot of my friends: Ceylan, who recently hiked the Inca Trail in Peru; Marianne, who is currently biking through Tuscany. My goal is to participate in active, adventurous travel. Not that the travel we've done has been lazy, oh no. We have put so many miles on our feet. But my goal for this decade is active travel. I want to bike through Europe. I want to hike through national parks like Yosemite and Redwood and Arches and the like. I want to use my body more to explore new and different things. I want to commune with nature, people! Plus, the more active you are, the more you can eat and drink, which is always a huge motivation for me. (And fitness, that too, yeah yeah...)

I've never been a big outdoorswoman, really. I love camping, and as a kid we did a lot of what I like to call "Pennsylvania-Style Camping." This is where you visit a mediocre Pennsylvania wilderness or recreation area (in our case Pymatuning State Park or, if we were feeling CRAZAY, the Shenango Wilderness Area) and you "camp out" - in a tent, yes, and with a campfire, yes, and with campfire-cooked foods, but with plenty of facilities and RVs around. I loved it. I always craved REAL camping adventures, and I had a few when I did my cross-country drive back in 2002 from St. Louis to the Grand Canyon. But I'd like to do more of it, and look where I live, dudes! The opportunity is ripe. I'm down with getting dirty, sleeping on the ground and roughing it a little, communing with nature, peeing outside, eating trail mix. Bring it on.

I've also never been a real hiker, per se. Once again, I'll take you back to my childhood, the bulk of which was spent in a pretty but uninteresting (geographically speaking) part of Western PA. "Hiking" meant we got in the car and drove over to Woodcock Dam, which is apparently now lovingly referred to as Woodcock Creek Lake, and "hiked" on the Orange Juice Springs Trail - which is apparently formally called the Bossard Nature Trail (why is adult life so much less fun?!) - or just went roller skatin' across the mile-long dam.

I'm not really knocking it - we had a good time camping at Pymatuning and roller skatin' at the dam. My parents made the most of where we lived, and they made sure we saw everything there was to see for miles around. They also took us on trips to see other things, like Yellowstone National Park. But what we did growing up in Ohio and PA and NY, it was not REAL camping and hiking. As an adult, I've slowly begun to foray into real hiking, but it's way hard, man. You need gear, and stamina and shit. Living in North Carolina, I got into really good shape and attempted several hikes with my husband, who is very, very into the sport, but found myself limited by season. I just couldn't stomach a hike on a 100 degree day. Could you?

So it occurs to me - in between trips to Glacier National Park and Tuscany, I can live this adventure in my own back yard. In case you haven't noticed, the Pacific Northwest has some mountains. Big ones. 

 

 Mt. Rainier, el. 14,411 ft

And they're close. Rainier, part of the Cascade Range, is just 80 miles from Seattle. The Cascades in Washington also include Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Baxter and Glacier Peak (over 10,000 feet).

Olympic National Park, over the sound, is 84 miles away. 

 

Olympic Mountain Range from Seattle

These are my favorite mountains. I love how they look rising over the Puget Sound.

 

 

 

Mt. Olympus, el. 7,965 ft.  

I live in the Pacific Northwest, surrounded by amazing mountains - some of the best scenery the United States has to offer, really. And I sort of decided, I'm ready to hike. For realz. I recently suited up with some new hiking gear suitable to my climate - sturdy, waterproof boots; breathable, convertible hiking pants/shorts; breathable rain jacket; proper backpack for shorter hikes. I've been working hard in the gym. I'm ready to go. Now all I need is a goal - and I have one.

This August, when we spend a week in Maine, my brother and my husband are planning to hike Mt. Katahdin. And I'm going with them.

 
Mt. Katahdin, el. 5,268 ft. 

 
Knife's Edge, Katahdin

It's small by PacNW standards, but tall by what-Sarie-can-hike standards. The tallest mountain I've ever hiked was Grandfather Mountain in North Carolina, at just under 6,000 feet. But by all accounts, Katahdin, the origination point of the Appalachian trail, is a much harder hike. Plus, it just might involve an overnight camping trip, depending on how we time it. And I've got 2 months to get ready. More than likely, Jay and I can get a hike in once a week leading up to the trip at the end of August. Think I can do it? Tips for preparation?

Let the adventures of my 30s begin!

Within a mile.

Two weekends ago, Jay and I kicked off our Friday night with a really enjoyable walk around our neighborhood, South Lake Union, which is the first 'hood north of Seattle's downtown area. It was a beautiful spring afternoon - 55 degrees, sunny, and lots of flowers out in full bloom. Camera in hand, we set out trying to document some of the cool stuff we see every day.

We started by walking up the hill behind our apartment building, where we saw the streetcar going past the future Amazon campus (under construction here).

 

 

On the way up the hill, there's a building with a giant music-themed mural that I love.

 

 

We passed the community garden...

 

...and another mural that's still a work-in-progress.

 

  

We paused to catch our breath (the hills are steep!) and took in the view to the south.

 

By this time, we were just about to Jay's office building.

  

 We headed north, then turned west and back downhill, making our way toward the lake (which is just about 3/4 mile north of our apartment, but we were going the circular route). Along the way, we passed a sign that highly entertained me.

 

We made our way to Lake Union, thinking how much fun it would be to live on a boat like some of these folks do.

  

 

I braved the blustery wind for a photo opp.

 

A little squinty! We admired the Center for Wooden Boats, a historic business on Lake Union, looking forward to a warmer day when we'd go kayaking.

 

Then we turned south and before we knew it, we were back where we'd begun.

 

 

I still can't believe I live here.