Grown Up Vacation: MAUI!

At the ripe old age of 30 (32 for Dylan) we finally got our act together and managed to save up for a grown-up vacation (no scholarships or parental subsidies involved!). After a one-stop flight from Portland, we landed in the tropical paradise of Maui and promptly headed out... in our convertible!

The convertible was entirely Dylan's idea. Back in Portland, during the planning phase, I told him, "Sure we can rent one if you find it for $250 for the entire week"--assured, of course, that this was an impossible feat. Five minutes later, I heard Dylan exclaim on the phone, "We'll take it!" It turned out to be the shittiest convertible on earth--with mirrors that didn't move and visors that were falling off, but we had the wind in our hair and the sunshine on our faces, so we didn't care much. Who needs visors, anyway, when you have a sexy convertible hat (purchased especially for the trip)!

We started our week in paradise by driving the twisty, winding road to Hana, filled with waterfalls and gorgeous views of the coastline. ("The pavement was very beautiful," adds Dylan, who couldn't really look at anything else while he was driving). We made the mistake of not arriving at our final destination while it was still daylight - and braved a terrifying drive in the dark on a cliff-edged road, with oncoming local drivers who clearly had no fear of death. We arrived at our "resort" at night and were warned not to step on any toads on the way to our rustic, private cabin. The toads got lucky. We headed straight to our cabin and tucked in under a pretty-but-annoying mosquito net.

We were pretty pumped when we woke up the next morning to discover this sunrise view right outside our door!

The most spectacular part of this post thus far (for those of you who know me), is the word sunrise. Yes, that's right, I arose, entirely of my own volition, at an hour that I normally consider "the middle of the night," and I even managed to crack out a smile for the camera. Clearly, I had a time zone change on my side.

We then walked around the property--several acres of beautifully landscaped grounds dotted with private cabins--and found the communal kitchen, where several aging hippies had congregated. They ate chia seeds and vegan lasagna, talked about the energy healing they had just had done, and lectured us about how to compost pineapple.

We bonded the next day with a couple from San Francisco who also did not like vegan lasagna, and felt much better about ourselves.

Given the early hour, we made a beeline for the road and beat the crowds to the Seven Sacred Pools (aka, O'heo Gulch), which we had nearly entirely to ourselves.

This picture does not do any justice to the magnificent pools, which cascade into one another before finally flowing into the crashing ocean waves. Good thing we went early - a few hours later it was crawling with tourists. On our way back we ran into a giant banyan tree, which is well known for its climbing and limbo-ing properties:

"It's like the earth is sprouting up to support the tree," says Dylan, who marveled at this unique medley of earth and plant. (***Warning: Pretending to be a koala bear while clinging to a banyan tree root may result in giant, painful, long-lasting, purple bruises on your inner thighs.)

(To be continued...)

Spring is in the Air!

After a leisurely Saturday breakfast of eggs and soldiers (soft-boiled eggs and toast, a tradition I picked up while honeymooning in Ireland), I peeked out the window and noticed that all the clouds were... GONE?!?!? Hmmm. I had been planning on recovering from my harrowing week by lounging around on the couch all day, but this rare gem (a warm, cloudless Saturday in Portland) was a little too rare to pass up. Drive out to the coast, I thought? No, I wouldn't make it past Beaverton, since half of Oregon would have had the same brilliant idea. Glancing around my living room, I took inspiration in my birthday present from Dylan. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Pepper (above).

Pepper is a Schwinn beauty, so named for her "salt-and-pepper" coloring, the "S" on her seat that looks like it belongs on a salt shaker, and her feisty spirit. Pepper is a looker. She turns heads and garners comments from total strangers along the lines of, "Nice Cadillac ya' have there!" She even gets me compliments! I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "Nice seat!" and "Look at that coloring!" Sometimes people even get really inappropriate and say things like, "Now doesn't that look like a comfortable ride." Sheesh.




But I digress. After spotting Pepper sadly tucked away in our living room corner, I decided it was time to take her out for a springtime jaunt. We squeezed into Emmy Lou (my car) and drove half an hour out to Sauvie Island. Sauvie Island is indeed an island, though unusual in that it is surrounded by two rivers. It can be accessed via this bridge:

Sauvie Island is yet another reason I love living in Portland. It's so close, and so charming! It boasts a quaint countryside, featuring farms and livestock,

 
beautifully symmetrical rows of (some sort of) produce,

and photographic opportunities aplenty (especially for those with fancy cameras, unlike my point-and-shoot--but hey, it held up pretty well!).

You can even see Mt. Hood in the background!!!! (Sigh.) Indeed, it was such a beautiful day that it seemed every living creature had made its way out to Sauvie Island to play.

This horse was rolling around in the warm dirt. I was tempted to join in.

I like to think that we made a connection, as he later on stopped by to say hello (then again, I suppose it could have been the fistfuls of grass in my hand that attracted his attention).

Cows lounged lazily in the shade,

except for this guy, who apparently fancied himself Ferdinand the Bull:

Photographers were out in full force,

as were cyclists:

All of the cyclists who passed me were friendly enough, but I'm pretty sure they were either snickering with derision or overcome with waves of nostalgia as they witnessed my blatant lack of spandex:

Twelve miles into my ride (that is to say, at the end of it), I figured I had earned myself a picnic lunch consisting of an apple, cheddar-with-chives and turkey on a baguette, and the tasiest water for miles around:











Special thanks to Tee for the phenomenal water bottle, which kept me well-hydrated.

(Ahhh, that's more like it)

I wrapped up my adventure by driving out to the Sauvie Island beaches, where I didn't pay for a parking pass and, mercifully, did not get a parking ticket. Rumor has it that tucked away between these wholesome, family-friendly beaches there is a nude beach. I've yet to find it.

 

And that's all, folks. You're always welcome to join me and Pepper on a leisurely ride!

 

P.S. I have not-so-secret fantasies about living in a tiny little house like this one, in a semi-remote place like Sauvie Island, where I can bake bread every weekend, sow my imaginary garden, and tend to my three chickens, Isabelle, Betsy, and Fluffers.

Raise a Glass to the Irish!

Here's to you, Dave and Rachel, bearers of sweet nectar from the gods! I'm talking about Irish mead, also known as honey wine. Dylan and I received a jug of this divine stuff as a wedding gift, and we finally broke it open for our 2011 St. Patty's Day dinner. Little did we know the delight that was in store for us. Witness the progression:

Mmmm! Oh, this is rather tasty stuff!

OMG, it's AMAZING. Dylan, you'll have to wrestle this from my cold, dead body!

Aaaaarghhhhh!!! Yummm m m m m mmuuuummmm!

Daaaaavvveee.... Damn you, Dave.

  Erin go Braugh!

Sry guys, wife agro.

That, my friends, is what Dylan typed immediately after this conversation:

Me: Whatcha up to?
Dylan: 'Bout to do a quick raid.
Me: Oh. ...
Me: Do you have to do a raid right now?
Dylan: Uhhh... nooooo?

And then, after an awkward pause, he proceeded to apologize to his fellow gamers for having an "agro" wife. He was met with sympathetic remarks all around.

My immediate reaction was hysterical laughter. Apparently an event such as this one is so commonplace in the world of online gaming that they have a code for it!

But after a second's thought I realized I was being cast as the "agro" wife--not so appealing. It implies that wives are angry, nagging people who crush their husband's dreams. (In fact, I had much more pleasant activities in mind, the details of which I won't go into here as I can already sense my brothers squirming in discomfort). Dylan then explained that "agro" doesn't necessarily mean "aggravated" or "aggressive." A better translation of the phrase would be, "Sorry, folks, I have to go now because I need to spend time with the people I love who do not game." Ah, well, that I can get on board with. Maybe their new code should be, "Sry guys, sxy wife way btr than elf toon."

P.S. Dylan, for his part, deserves credit for being a wonderfully responsive partner who was more than willing to switch his game plan (Ha! Get it? Game plan? .... Right. Sorry.). He's the bestest!

Confessions of a Hand-Licker

Yes, my friends, Bailey has a hand fetish. This is how he insists on waking me up every morning:

 

And recently, how he felt he could best contribute to the blogging process:

 

Just the hands. So weird!

Doing My Part: Part 1

For those of you who don't live in Portland, there is an ongoing campaign amongst the locals to Keep [It] Weird. Observe:

It's such a popular and well-known slogan, it has even inspired spin-offs:

(Evidence for the success of both campaigns can be found in this Portland Monthly Magazine article.)

At any rate, as a budding Portlander, I feel it is my civic duty to help ensure that this city is totally whacked out (OK, that's just a convenient excuse to justify the ridiculous things I would probably be doing anyway). I even roped my sister, Vanessa, into helping out when she came out to visit recently. As we walked home from the grocery store, we encountered an opportunity we just couldn't pass up:

                                                         

We had soooo much fun being whimsical and spontaneous! Right, Vanessa?

Ahhhhhahahahaha! Oh, how I love this photo. While trying to be whimsical and spontaneous was sort of fun, it wasn't until I saw this that I collapsed on the sidewalk, seizing with laughter and wiping the tears from my eyes (for the record, so did Vanessa). I think it's safe to say we've done our part, for now.