So Long, Farewell, Auf Weidersehen, Goodbye

Well I guess I should say goodbye after a very long hiatus.  You see, we no longer live in Maine.  Our stint in the Pine Tree State was cut about a year short when we were transferred back to California.  Spike and I are happy to get back to the Bay Area.  So I won't drag this out or make a big "to-do".  I'll just say it's been fun, cold, and we'll never forget the birth state of our first baby.  Maine, you'll always hold a special place in our hearts.

Picking Pizza in Portland

Pizza is one of those things that pretty much everyone loves.  I don't think I've ever come across someone who didn't like some type of version of pizza whether it's deep dish or thin crust, pepperoni or chicken, simple or fancy.  We have a lot of pizza restaurants around here that range from not-so-good to fabulous.  In the year and a half that we've lived i Maine, we've been to several of these places that claim to be the best in Portland.  Two of those really stand out to me as being superior and are on totally different levels.  I'd like to take you on a pizza journey of sorts starting from the worst and working our way to the best.

Pizza Joint: This is the worst pizza I've ever had in my life.  I ordered what would be considered a supreme and went by 20 minutes later to pick it up.  First of all it was HUMONGOUS.  And it cost $33.  I almost had a heart attack on the spot!  The crust was soggy and there were way too many of each topping.  Why so much then?  Each topping was like $3 each, which I didn't know when I ordered it.  And really, should onions cost as much as sausage?  The pizza was too large and we ended up throwing it away after we fought to eat the slices we could stomach.  Needless to say we won't be going back.

Stavros:  This place gets an okay in my book.  We've only been there once and ordered slices.  It's across the street from Pizza Joint and they have other things besides pizza like burgers and subs.  I think we just got basic pepperoni and cheese, but the crust was good and pretty standard.  I'd go again to try it out.

Portland Pie:  Spike and I just went here recently and got a supreme type pizza.  This place has more than your standard toppings.  They have seafood, barbecue chicken, and an Asian style pizza for those who don't want the same old same old.  This was a pizza that I've ordered for people at work before and gotten good reviews.  So we had to go try it for ourselves.  They even sell their dough in the grocery store so you can do your own thing at home, which is pretty cool I think.

Bonobo:  A newer place in town compared to the other pizza places, Bonobo is a place where you could get just a regular pepperoni, but why?  They have some of the most unique combination of ingredients that you can find on a pie.  We had to be adventurous when we went so we got a Morocco which had lamb sausage, feta and goat cheeses, roasted red bell peppers and scallions.  Delish.  Yum.  So good.  You should look at the link just to see what ingredients they put on these pizzas...mmmm.

Otto Pizza:  Now we're getting into my two top favorites.  Otto's is downtown in a TINY itsy bitsy store front.  You can go in and get slices for $3.50 (they're so big it's almost like 2 slices) and take it to go or have a seat next door in their sister restaurant Enzo's where they'll pass the pizza through a little hole in the wall after it comes out of the oven.  They always have a pepperoni and cheese slices for sale, but the other pies' availabilities change depending on whoever is running things back at the ovens.  I've seen chicken, margherita, mashed potato bacon and scallion, and my personal favorite - three cheese tortellini.  Otto's takes pizza and puts it on a higher level.  It's consistently rated the best pizza in Portland and for good reason.  The ingredients are of high quality, prices are reasonable (are you listening, Pizza Joint?!), and the combinations are inspired

Flatbread Company:  If you're looking for a pizza with local ingredients that also happen to be organic, Flatbread is the place for you.  They have a brick oven in the restaurant where you can see the employees stoking the fire and carefully tending to each pizza.  Flatbread's crust is really what sets them apart from the other pizza places in town.  It's incredibly thin but somehow still has a good crunch to it.  For me, the ingredients don't really have to be organic and the pepperoni isn't any more special because it's nitrate free, but everything works really well here.  I almost really don't have any words, but that this is the place we bring people when they come to visit us in Portland.  So...when are you coming??

Does this make up for a few months of no blog entries?  I hope you're inspired to go out and get a locally made pizza and support the small businesses in your community that work hard to keep up with the big chains.  You'd be happy to know that since we've lived here we haven't even thought once about calling Domino's or Pizza Hut.  Spread the word...most of the time, the food is better anyway!

Texafornian??

Ever since Spike and I found out that we are going to have a baby, we have made some minor adjustments in our life here in Maine.  We've been figuring out the things that we'll do with our son when he's old enough.  We can't wait to take him to the park, zoo, museums, etc. and expose him to all good things Maine.  One thing I'm not too keen on doing just yet is giving him Whoopie Pies.  It's just sugar piled on top of sugar with more sugar.  A blueberry pie I can get with.  Apple picking I can get with.  Whoopie Pies I cannot.

Something else I can get with?  Traveling and taking him to new and exciting places that we've never been to or love visiting.  Take for instance California...San Francisco and San Diego in particular.  Those are two of our favorite cities.  Spike and I had the privilege of honeymooning in San Diego and living in San Francisco for a year before we moved to Maine.  Last week we went back to San Francisco to vacation in the city that has a stronghold on our hearts.  We did everything that we didn't get a chance to do while we lived there, and a few other things that we had to do again.

We visited the Museum of Modern Art and the Asian Art Museum, got a killer burrito in Mission district, got to have amazing German food with my cousin, see and stay with some of our best friends, take a hike in the Berkeley Hills overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and bay, and finally, have dinner at our favorite restaurant of all time.  This trip was about doing what we wanted to do and really enjoying the city in a different way.  I was sad to leave the bay area and come back to Maine where it was much cooler and a bit rainy, but it was great to get back into my own bed.

Hands down the best burrito I've ever had.  El Farolito at 24th and Mission.

Vases at the Asian Art Museum.

Inspriation Point looks out onto the bay and Golden Gate Bridge.

E Tutto Qua at Broadway and Columbus...the best Italian food ever.

Spike in a graffiti covered alley.

Drumroll, Please!!

Monday, Spike and I went get an ultrasound of the baby.  After going into the wrong building and getting a long explanation of how to cross the street by a security guard, we made it to the right office.  We walked back into the room where the tech had me sit down in a chair that I would compare to a dentist's chair, but more comfortable.  She proceeded to recline the chair, but with sterile paper and my body on top of faux leather it was making A LOT of noise.  And the recline wasn't really very fast either.  It just sounded like one big...well you know.  Not that we were nervous about anything, but it seemed to lighten the mood when I wondered aloud if the chair could make a little more noise.

And then it all started.  It was the most surreal thing I think I've ever experienced.  I say that because this pregnancy has been so normal (no sickness, no crazy hormonal stuff) that it's almost like I can't believe I'm growing a human being inside me.  But I am!  As soon as she found the baby, the spine was as clear as day.  A bright white spotted line along the back.  A beautiful sight!  And the head. And the little legs.  And the tiny arms.  There's no way for me to describe it except as awe inspiring.  The tech began taking measurements of the head, heart, and kidneys.  However, the baby was in the position that it made it hard to get the last shot of the heart she needed.  She tried jiggling the device on my stomach, having me turn on my left side and then my right.  This baby was being so stubborn...ornery as we described it.

After walking up and down the hall a few times, rubbing my stomach, hopping little hops, and giving this baby a "heart to heart," the picture the tech needed was finally achieved.  By this time the big question had been answered.  Was this baby a boy or girl?  As soon as the legs came into view, the truth was told...it wass a boy!  I had a feeling beginning about a month or two ago that this was going to be a boy.  I don't know why, but nearly everyone on my side of the family (or at least the women anyway) predicted this little one was a boy as well.  We are completely overjoyed and excited.  Now for the next step, a name...we have nothing yet.

I'll be posting a few of the pictures of the ultrasound as soon as I can get them scanned.  Of the black and white (not 3D) ultrasound pictures I've seen in the past, these are actually recognizable.  You can make out his nose and lips on one and an arm near his face in another.  So there it is...Spike has a drummer for his next band!

It's Been Too Long

I know it's been too long since I've written anything.  I've had a lot on my plate the last few months.  First of all, I should say that Spike and I are expecting our first baby in late August.  That's enough for a "get out of jail free card" on the blog, right?  Second, winter here has lasted MUCH longer than any of us expected and we haven't done that much.  I guess last year when we arrived in March it was chilly, but I don't remember it being this chilly!  We had so much snow this winter that there's still some in the backyard just waiting to melt.  That's insane.  And we had a day when the high was 68 and it's still not all gone!  That's when you know it's been cold.

I always kind of figured that we would have a baby while we were living in Maine.  The joke was that the first words out of the baby's mouth would be something like, "Waa, ma.  Waa."  No exclamation point, no real feeling to the cry...just "Waa."  The pregnancy has been going well.  I never had morning sickness, I've been gaining weight steadily, exercising, and eating voraciously.  Just don't tell me that I'm eating for two...if I had another person growing inside me with the appetite that I've had, I'd be scared.  I just eat about the same amount at meals and have sensible snacks throughout the day to supplement the hunger that comes around every few hours.

The next big step is finding out if the baby is a girl or boy.  I have a hunch about what it will be, but I'd like to take a poll.  What do you think?  Take the survey at the top right of this page.  I don't get feedback on who specifically votes which way, but I think it would be a fun way to see if you're right in the end.  And I promise I'll have some more things to talk about Maine once it starts to warm up a little more!

It's Wintah...in Maine!

As a Native Texan, winters were something I always dreaded.  I wasn't used to the 40-50 degree weather, and I prayed for a snow day at least every time the meteorologist said it was going to drop below 32.  Alas, that didn't happen very often.  Try about once every four years in Houston.  Dallas provided us with more snow/ice days - about once a year right around Valentine's Day.  Texas isn't capable of handling the snow or ice so they just ended up canceling school, and most people got the day off from work.  It's too dangerous to get out there...almost like Californians driving in the rain.

All that seems to be a distant memory these days.  The average temps around here the last few weeks have barely even pushed above freezing.  Getting out there isn't as easy as one might think.  Sure, they plow the roads and salt and sand them, but they can't keep up with a heavy snow storm.  So what is a heavy snow storm then?  Before we left for Christmas there was 4 inches of snow on the ground and that was a "dusting."  To be honest, they all seem like heavy snow storms to me, and we should all stay home from work instead of going out on the roads.  The snow looks so much prettier when you're at home and not at work.

To be fair, this season has been much worse than winters Maine has experienced in the past few years.  I'm not sure of the total inches we've had so far, but I think it's already surpassed the average for the whole season.  Everyone keeps saying, "Just wait til February" meaning that it will only get worse.  Well I'll tell you what.  You can take your February and keep it because I want no part of it!  I'm sick of snow.  I'm sick of having to bundle up when I go outside.  I'm sick of having to struggle to get up our hill of a driveway just to get in the garage.  I'm sick of having sand and snow stuck to shoes, and consequently, in the house.

BUT!!!  It sure does beat the heat.

The path from the back porch to the driveway...see the angle of the car?  I wasn't lying about the hill!

Our street

The neighborhood

The park that had tulips last spring (Blog: April Showers Have Brought May Flowers)

Check out how tall that snow bank is...and how buried the Stop sign is

The Whole Enchilarda

I've already discussed in a blog from last year how Maine isn't going to be garnering any spots on the "spiciest places to eat tour" anytime soon.  And one of the reasons is because the Mexican food up here is virtually non-existant.  Oh sure, Thai and Indian food have the corner on spice market, but there's something to be said about a really good salsa that kind of sets your mouth on fire and dares you to come back for more.

I think Spike and I have tried about three "Mexican" (and I use the term very loosely) restaurants around town, and only one of them deserves going back again and again - El Rayo.  It's in an old gas station with more outdoor seating than is available than inside.  So you can understand why this place would be packed in the summer.  We've been quite a bit since we've moved to Portland, and it hits that spot even if it's not always super spicy.  Trying something new is always in order when we go and we're not usually disappointed.  I've tried the chilequilles, the Mexico City corn on the cob (exceptionally good), tacos, quesadillas, rice and bean bowls...the list goes on.  EXCEPT!!! they have no enchiladas on the menu, which is disappointing, but I guess it's not that kind of restaurant.   

But the whole reason I'm here pouring out my thoughts is because today at work they were serving "Enchilardas" for lunch.  That's right, enchiladas with an R.  Of course, it's just the woman behind the sneeze glass who writes the day's offerings on the chalk board and doesn't know how to spell the word.  I feel that's what we're working with here in New England: Restaurants that don't serve enchiladas and people that can't spell it.


That's why I just have to accept that the best Mexican food is in El Paso and I can only have it about once a year when we see Spike's family.   

Festive Sweater Fest 2010

What do you get when you gather a group of people who have crazy aunts and grandmas with "beautiful" sweaters that they loaned/gave you to go to a Christmas party?

Festive Sweater Fest, that's what.

Yes, there are ugly sweater parties popping up all over the country during this season, and we decided to jump on the bandwagon too.  These kind of parties have given us a new way to celebrate Christmas without having to spend a lot of money.  If you can dig through your or your relatives' closets to find these gems, you could be in for a treat.  Prizes are often offered, and we weren't going to let our guests down.  Trader Joe's, a type of Whole Foods specialty food store for those of you who aren't in the know, just opened here in town about a month ago.  People are nuts over this place so we decided that a $10 gift card to Trader Joe's was in order...worth way more than most of the sweaters.  Can you guess who won?

Joanna is in a winter wonderland and Amber is the Cat Lady

Michelle was into bunnies, Lauren looked lovely in snowflakes, and Brad's too short teddy bear sweater was perfect. 

My sweater was intricately crocheted and Spike pulled off Liz Claiborne quite well if I do say so myself!

Warren pinned a stocking on and Sabrina had bears as part of her ensemble.

Tyler, Mark, and Spike laughing about how ridiculous they look...or maybe something else.
Tyler's sweater had a walrus and polar bear among others and Mark was decked out in moose and trees.

Amber with her straight-laced man Mike in a gingerbread and plaid get-up.  The glasses are totally classic!

Run for Your Life...or Warmth

That's me in the gray vest!

Thanksgiving Day I ran my first race.  Some friends from work convinced me to run with them, and being easily persuaded I agreed.  I've been running more since late summer and was ready to put all the days of training at Back Cove to the test.  This was the Portland Thanksgiving Day 4 Miler.  Granted, I'd never run non-stop for 4 miles before and I knew I wouldn't be able to do it this day, but I still thought it would be fun.

My friends and I met up at one of their apartments to stretch and warm up.  We had bananas (lots of potassium for muscles) and cranberry bread for sustenance to carry us through the race.  I had one banana and half a slice of the bread.  There is a reason I'm telling you this...keep reading.  We walked down to the start line with 2,000 of our closest friends.  And some of these people were a little too hardcore for me.  I saw quite a few running in their shorts and t-shirts, which is fine for a spring day run, but it was 31 degrees outside!  Really though, once the race began my attire was perfect.  The most important thing to me was to keep my core and ears warm.  The legs and arms were going to be moving enough that I didn't need extra layers.

About 3 times I had to stop running to regain energy that was zapped on those hills, and there were plenty of them.  Luckily, the planner of the race had the decency to make the final stretch downhill.  My friend Elizabeth and I began to pick up the pace to finish strong.  We were nearly sprinting when we crossed the finish line and I almost got sick.  I just kept thinking, "Please, please don't let me throw up in front of all these people!!"  Luckily I was able to keep my composure, but I guess the lesson was to only eat half a banana in the future!

I love that cities all across the country have a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning.  It makes eating all that food easier to justify.  And our Thanksgiving had lobster.  Yeah, I'll go ahead and rub it in.  It was sooooooo good.  How else are you supposed to celebrate the holiday in Maine?

All Set?

There are a few things that always tend to stick out in my mind when I think about sayings people have in the Northeast.  "All set" is definitely at the top of the list as it's the catchall for anyone in the service industry whether it's the waitress at dinner or the cashier at the department store.  The Texas equivalent to this would be "I'm good," which we'll get to shortly.

The phrase seemed to seep its way into my brain after Spike and I had been out to dinner several times and the waiters and waitresses would ask if we were ready to order.  But the thing is they didn't say, "Are you all set to order?"  It was just, "All set?" and we used our context clues to determine that we were expected to give them our order.  When the food would come it was, "All set?" again.  This time it would mean, "Do you have everything you need?"  And so it goes when the plates were ready to be taken away and when the check was to be paid.  It was always "All set?"  On the flip side, if the the waiter actually asks if I am still working on my plate, I could say, "I'm all set" meaning "You can take it."  I could also tell them I'm all set if they inquired about anything else I might need.  The whole thing didn't strike me from the very beginning because "all set" is phrase that everyone has used.  It only caught me when everyone everywhere was saying it.  When I brought it up to Spike, he thought for a second and agreed.  It's like we can't escape it.  Even that movie "The Town," which takes place in Boston uses the phrase a few times...now that's authenticity for you.

As I said earlier, the phrase "You good?" or "I'm good" is used primarily in the South for whatever reason.  I have used it a few times here in Maine out of habit, and sometimes it's backfired on me miserably.  I was at Whole Foods not too long ago when I bought one item.  The cashier asked if I wanted a bag for it and I said, "I'm good" meaning "No, thanks."  A few seconds passed when he finally asked, "I'm sorry, did you say 'I'm good' or 'I would'?"  If I'd said I was all set, none of that would have happened.  Now I go places and use "all set" at any point to see if I'm using it correctly.  Most of the time I fit right in.

How about from now on, we stop with the idioms and use a simple "yes" or "no, thank you" to get through our daily lives?  Or at least ask a question that is a little more specific?  It seems like it would make life a little easier for everyone, but then again how would you know if you were in the Northeast or the South?

Whoopie Pie? More Like Oops Pie.

A Whoopie Pie is a sweet treat found here in Maine and throughout the eastern US.  It's essentially a chocolate cake sandwich - two small cakes with gritty sugary icing in the middle.  Isn't that just an Oreo Cakester, you ask?  Yes, but Oreo stole the idea from the Whoopie Pie.  When the Cakesters first came out, I bought a box of them because I thought it would be something a little different.  Two of them come in a package, and if you eat more than one you probably have a sweet tooth that's not easily satiated.  Those things could give you a cavity just by looking at them.  

Today I tried my hand at making this northern staple.  I made red velvet Whoopie Pies with cream cheese frosting in the middle.  None of my cookbooks had a red velvet cake recipe so I was left to fend for myself.  I understand that it's just chocolate cake with red dye in it, but I didn't know if there was something different that I had to do since you drop the batter on a baking sheet like a cookie.  As it turns out, not really.

After a miserable first run, I found the groove and baked to my heart's content.  I even had enough batter to make a few cupcakes.    And then I tried them.  They weren't chocolatey enough for me and something seemed kind of "off."  They were pretty flat, not the puffy cake that you might imagine.  What I need to do next time is get a recipe for Whoopie Pies that comes from a place around Portland.  Because apparently this city boasts the best one in the country - from Two Fat Cats Bakery.  They've set the standard and I'm working my way up to it.

The Blueberry Post

Before I ever dreamt about the day I'd move to Maine, I made a blueberry pie back in Texas. It was the first pie I'd ever made, and one of those things I wanted to prove to myself that I could do. Like most things that I do in the kitchen, it took me a really long time from start to finish to get this thing on the table. I made the dough for the crust, refrigerated it, rolled it out, prepared the filling, let it set...you get the idea. I'm sure this thing took me a good 6 hours from start to finish. It was exhausting, but was incredibly rewarding. Spike still goes on about that first blueberry pie, which is pictured below.

Last week was Spike's 30th birthday. And, you guessed it, he wanted a blueberry pie. Of course, Maine is synonymous with blueberries so it only seemed fitting. Since the fruit is only in season during the summer months, I had to go to the frozen section or pay $3.69 for a HALF pint. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but this recipe calls for 6 cups of blueberries! Those better be the best darn tasting blueberries that ever came in contact with my lips. The frozen blueberries were a better deal and from Maine.

The thing about Maine blueberries is that they actually quite small compared with the ones we're all used to (see above). I'd say they're about the size of a pea, sometimes bigger. We can't taste a difference. And the advantage of using a smaller berry is that the pie is jammed full of these things...more berries means a better dessert, right? It's a win/win situation! These days, I take help from the Pillsbury refrigerated pie crusts (mine are still better) and it makes for a pretty decent pie, if I do say so myself. The end result? Spike loved it and that's all that matters!

Leaf Peeper!!

Spike took these pictures of our street

Before the onset of Fall began, I told my co-workers how excited I was to watch the changing of the leaves. The pictures I'd seen and the reports I'd heard from everyone who'd been to the northeast during this season were nothing but glowing. Colors so vibrant and air so crisp that it just had to be amazing. Texas doesn't get that much changing of leaves because of the circumstances of where it's located geographically and the fact that the weather doesn't lend itself to it too well. Botany lesson for today: In order for the leaves to change color, there has to be the perfect ratio of daylight to night and the temperature has to fall between in very specific spots for the right amount of time. Maine's got it - Texas doesn't. It's just a fact.

Back when Spike and I picked apples in Alfred, the leaves were just beginning to change colors. These days they're at their peak, and the slightest rain or wind can leave them all crushed in the middle of the street looking like trash. If you've never made it to New England in the Fall, consider this your invitation. From the end of September all the way until the 3rd week in October, there's bound to be some good leaf peeping.

Leaf peeping? You read it right. Back when I told my co-workers how I couldn't wait to see the changing of the leaves, they said with disdain, "Oh, you're one of those...Leaf Peepers." I had to explain to them that I'd never seen Fall the way New England does it. I'm not sure how someone could come up here and not be fascinated by the brilliant reds, oranges, yellows, and corals that abound on the trees. I'd hate to get to the point when Fall holds nothing special anymore. These Mainers don't know how good they have it! And Texans, you don't know what you're missing!

The Bridges of Cumberland County

Yesterday I went to a wedding shower for a co-worker at the home of someone else at work. This was that stereotypical kind of Sunday drive where you just want to take your time looking at all the fall foliage and not rush to get to the destination. The directions were simple to get out there...just keep driving until you see the sign for "Covered Bridge Road." Take a left and drive down the winding road in the shade of the all the changing trees (the second part of that wasn't in the directions). You'll get to the covered bridge, cross it, and a mile from that is the house. Let me back up - the covered bridge. I don't think that Texas has any covered bridges. I'm only saying that because I've never been over a covered bridge. Please prove me wrong so I can go across it someday when I'm back in the Lone Star State.

This bridge was old or at least it looked that way. There was a 3 ton weight limit and it was only one lane so it could prove tricky if you came across someone coming toward you. I had to get out and take a few pictures. This was just too perfect. The water under the bridge was so completely still and some of the leaves on the trees had started to change in the background. I almost don't believe that I was there. But the pictures prove it, and it was amazing.

More Apple Picking in Alfred

Johnny Appleseed Ain't Got Nothin' on Me

Back in Texas, my family used to go to Fredericksburg for two reasons: to see my grandparents and to pick peaches. We'd always go to Marburger Orchard and pick Red Globe or Dixiland, depending on which was ripe. The best part was having my grandma's peach cobbler with a scoop of vanilla ice cream most likely from H-E-B. I can still see the casserole dish being pulled out of the oven with the crust just starting to turn golden and the syrup from the broken-down peaches bubbling up around it. I could never understand the people who bought their peaches at the grocery store because if they'd ever had a Fredericksburg peach, they'd never go back to those tasteless, hard peaches.

Today Spike and I went to pick apples in Alfred, a town southwest of Portland. It was the Shaker Hill Apple Festival with craft booths, a silent auction in a barn, and of course apple treats at the bakery. I've never been apple picking before, but I figured it was pretty much like my days picking peaches. Apples in the orchard were $1/pound so we bought as many as we thought we could reasonably eat and some extras so I could bake something. The temperature was a chilly 60ish with overcast skies, but the scenery made up for all that. The orchard is up on a hill looking down on an abundance of beautiful trees made even more amazing because the leaves in the area have started changing colors. We left with 5 pounds of apples, but on the way back to the car I had to have one. It was seriously one of the crunchiest, sweetest, juiciest apples I've ever had. I almost feel like today made my circle complete. I was able to go to an orchard and pick seasonal fruit in a setting that rivals the Texas Hill Country. Nothing can replace it, but it almost felt like home.

Don't Go Down-Cellar Alone

Texas can't have basements because of soggy ground and other stuff, I'm told. But virtually all the houses in New England have basements. Some people call them cellars. Our landlord, when speaking of the basement, will say, "Well, you know, I can't go down-cellar anymore. I can't drag the oxygen tank down with me." He's 85. And he's right - he has no business going "down-cellar."

You know that part in "Home Alone" when Kevin goes down to the basement to do laundry because he's being responsible? And it's dark and quiet and all kinds of creepy? Then the furnace kicks in and scares the living daylights out of him so he runs upstairs just as fast as his legs will carry him? Yeah, our basement is that kind of scary. I also know better than to go down there by myself at night. I take that back. I don't EVER go down there at night, period.

I thought I might give you an idea of what our basement looks like. It's been partitioned off so we have half and our landlord has the other. It would be very large if it weren't for the fence/wall in the middle. The first picture is of the stairs leading down - with no handrails mind you. The second is of our half. Down there is a 200 gallon tank used to hold oil since much of Maine is on top of granite. Granite is too hard to drill through, which means none of the houses have gas. It also means that we have to check the oil level in the tank every few months so we don't run on sludge. The last picture is of the furnace. And let me tell you, that thing will definitely have you screaming like Macaulay Culkin if you're not expecting it when it kicks in. I've been known to high tail it out of there on a hand full of occasions.

We're Still Here

This Labor Day weekend, Spike and I thought it might be fun to head down to New York City to see some friends - even if our friends didn't really have that much advance notice. The point of the weekend was to get out of town. I had a four day weekend and Spike had a 3 1/2 days off. Perfect for traveling, right? Wrong. Hurricane Earl had to make his appearance along the eastern seaboard, but it wasn't really an appearance north of Virginia and the Carolinas. But the Coast Guard wanted its people to stick close to home in case anything happened. So we stayed put.

The thing is, I knew we weren't going to be hit by this hurricane. I heard on the news last night that hurricanes hit Maine about once every 50-100 years. There is a downside to this, though. People freak out when they hear about it coming even if the forecast says that it will brush by. We had a tropical storm warning! And do you know what we got? A little rain Friday night. The streets were damp on Saturday morning, but we never heard wind gusts or the pelting of rain against windows. You know what would have happened in Texas if the weather had been like this? Nothing! Now I realize that the experiences and circumstances are different here, but most people wouldn't cancel big plans if the forecast was predicting "a brush with the weakened storm." That's like people putting their life on hold in Houston because there's something going on in South Padre Island or Brownsville. Ridiculous!

So yes, we're still here. In both senses of the word. We're still alive after a short rain on Friday night. We're also still at home trying to figure out how to spend the rest of this long weekend. Maybe we'll head down to New Hampshire where there's no sales tax or take a walk around town and enjoy the (still) beautiful weather.

Bring Out Your Inner Slovak

Something that Spike and I have come to realize is that the weekends in Portland don't always necessarily mean that we'll have a ton of things to do. In San Francisco, we could take the train into the city and find some new restaurant or activity to experience every time. Portland isn't that kind of town - it's small even though its Maine's largest city.

This past Friday was no different. We'd finished dinner and were sitting on the couch watching tv at 8:00 when the feeling of being bored and lame came to us both at the same time. We asked ourselves, "When did we become some boring? What's wrong with us?" It is understood that we don't find each other boring, just the situations that we've found ourselves in lately. So Spike went back to the New York Times article (posted in the entry before this one) and suggested we go bowling. Sure, it seems like one of those last resort kind of things, but we were desperate to get out of the house.

Bayside Bowl is a fancy looking bowling alley that doesn't bring back memories of those seedy types you remember from being a kid. No obnoxious carpet, no cigarettes allowed, no arcade games, and certainly no soggy nachos with fake "queso." This place has a real kitchen with a menu and a full bar. Not to mention a stage with a band playing there that night! We were in for a treat. We put our name down to reserve an alley and got a beer while we waited.

The band that was playing that night was Slavic Soul Party. I can't liken it to anything specific because I really think they're the only band that does this kind of music. Take a New Orleans funeral procession. Now make them white and add one hispanic dude. Now make them play eastern European music, but put a funky soul beat behind it. Now you have the band. These guys killed. The drummers came off the stage a few times, trumpeters and trombonists soloed and the accordion player serenaded. We cancelled our lane and just listened to the band. And danced. And smiled. Now does anything like this exist in Texas? I don't know, but I'm just glad they came up to entertain us for the evening so we didn't have to watch "Bruce Almighty" on Fox.

Only Going to be Here for 36 Hours?

Ever wonder what you could do in Portland if you came to visit Spike and me? Well the New York Times has it all planned out for you! I realize that there's quite a bit listed, but you could do whatever you wanted. The best part is that Portland is so small that you wouldn't be in the car for most of the time. Check out the article here!