Saturday, January 31, 2009

Random late night radio stuff

While driving to the Daytona airport at 4:00 a.m. I heard a bunch of cool shit, including "Born to be Alive," "Heart of Glass" and "Electric Avenue." I think most of my middle aged peeps would be giddy to hear this mix.

Yes, I'm talking about you.

The view from my flights home

This is the entirety of Daytona Beach's airport. If you click to enlarge the image you will see Gate 6. That's as high as they go. There are no crowds as it is 5:45 a.m. EST on a Saturday and I think my flight to Atlanta is the only flight for a few hours, but this airport, with its free WiFi is entirely manageable.

Much angst yesterday trying to get my boarding passes printed, slight angst this morning checking my bags (it's probably too early for me to assign the gate agent the word "bitchy" but that's certainly how she came across--she was clearly unhappy that I was traveling on 2 different tickets and I was happy I printed my receipt for pre-paying the checked luggage fee). I don't know where in NY she is from, but I'm willing to bet somewhere [or possibly New Jersey]).

Happy to be leaving Florida and even happier to be going to Oregon.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The view from my morning commute (Edgewater vol. 1)

Posting a little out of order--I will need to organize the videos and pics from Laura's, so coverage of Charlotte, Henry and Boomer will follow. In the meantime, above is New Smyrna Beach from a mid-morning visit with my dad.

Below is a shot from Canaveral National Seashore. The warm ocean breeze is a nice change from snowy Portland. I still miss my dogs.

Saying goodbye to an angel

There is no explaining what an easy-going dog Barry is (was). Here he is getting crushed by brother Gryffie with not a care in the world (unless that's the hint of an eye-roll there).

I distinctly remember his Aunt Rita borrowing him to teach "T Touch Therapy" and as she was talking about it, Barry was laying near me, but hanging half off the couch just, hanging. Off the couch. And I told Rita that was unfair. That someone with a crazed puppy was going to be despondent that he or she was doing something wrong because they're trying to do what she was doing to make Barry so mellow and it wasn't working with their dog. Barry was also the mellow side-kick.

He'd been around with Sonya for 15+ years, but it seems like forever. He will be missed. And missed. And missed.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Cooking with Michelle

This is a Paula Dean recipe for Gorilla Bread. Well, it started as a Paula Dean recipe. Now it's the 8th or 9th attempt at an alteration.

I helped my mom try another variation on the basic recipe. Let me say that "10 minutes prep time" is just another Internet lie. 2 people working together took 20 minutes. Sigh.

Anyway, except for being undercooked a little, it's damn good. But since no one's been able to get it "right" thus far (and believe me, in about 12 hours this thing is half gone, so nothing is holding me back on chowing down) I believe Paula Dean is a lying-ass bitch!

I am inspired to test some variations when I get home. And when I do, Paula will get NO credit. Except maybe if I call it the "better than Paula Dean" recipe.

BTW, who IS Paula Dean anyway?

Minutiae of my Ormond visit

This is my Nana's house. This is where I'm spending the first half of my trip.
This is my somewhat stylin' Mitsubishi Lancer rental car. Sleek. With a LOUD license plate (when you close the trunk).

I've got crabs (well, just the one)

A flock of seagulls

Trying to make the point that Ormond Beach on a sunny Sunday is an okay place to be.

The view from my morning commute (Ormond Beach beach)

Okay, so yes, I hate being away from my dogs. And it's a little boring staying with my mom and grandmother. And OMG is that couch uncomfortable, and M*A*S*H reruns get old quick. But, well, 67 degrees on an empty beach... it could be worse.

The views from my morning travels (Atlanta to Daytona)

You can tell how eager I am to get some where (or somewhere else) by how early I am for my flight. Out of paranoia the lines would kill me, and a general need to be some place different, got to Hartsfield about 3-1/2 hours early for my flight.
This gave me time to have biscuits and gravy at Wendy's. Where, if you DO NOT receive a receipt, the meal is not free, but is "free" which probably means they still charge you some amount. So really, it behooves you to get that receipt.
The security lines were manageable (more or less) and can't really be seen from this picture. What can be seen is that hot ensemble of the woman putting on her boots. I often take pleasure in Portland's general lack of concern for apparel, but sometimes I miss the women who dress for "church." Or for travel. I don't know where she was going, but god I hope she had a good time when she got there!
Sun comes up and it's still gray and rainy. That's the plane that got me to Daytona. Sans Xanax this time (I had a row to myself).