Thanksgiving/Holiday Spincycle

Thanksgiving. Did I give thanks? Where was I? What did I give thanks for? I imagine it had something to do with being fed (over) loved (over) and housed in a warm, safe environment.

So much time has passed since then, nearly a month, and another set of holidays ran right over my slow ass. E and I started a tradition of buying Thanksgiving dinner for a needy family (4-6 individuals, living in transitional or low-income housing) through Compass Alliance. We also sponsor a kid for Christmas through them, but I'll get to that in a minute. The deal with Thanksgiving is I play a game with myself, see how great I can be with bargain shopping, coupon dealing, general thriftery. You buy a turkey with all the sides, dessert, milk or juice and any additional groceries your little heart desires. This year I beat last year's bargain record by spending $40. Yup, I pat myself on the back for my crafty-shopping-ways.

This is just 2/3 of what we bought. There are fresh veggies for salad, pie and a few other things missing from this photo.

We also sponsor a kid through Compass, this year our 12 year old boy had a very simple list-Dallas Cowboys trucker hat, wallet and Nerf gun. I was floored. Most 12 y.o. want (have) X-boxes, blu-rays, dirt bikes, guns and video paraphernalia. This kid just wanted the simplest things. I don't know why, but it broke my heart. The idea of asking for a hat and a toy that every kid I know takes for granted, has multiples of, shocked me a little. We also gave the family movie and grocery store gift cards. Done and done and the heart grows larger. I don't talk about helping out because I want any sort of credit, karmic or otherwise, it's just that it's so simple to do, and when people complain they don't have money to do this sort of thing, there are always a million volunteer opportunities if you don't have greenbacks to spare.


Christmas. I love it, love decorating (sort of) mailing and sending cards (I know, the trees!) and buying little trinkets for the beloveds. It was a good year, nothing terribly exciting received, but plenty of good stuff given. Now my birthday, is another story entirely. The luvah took me around on my special day, doing what I wanted, when I wanted. Luckily, my day consisted of a morning visit with our fave 2.5 y.o. boy and his mum (a bestie) lunch at a new restaurant and a shopping spree at Half-price Books. This is one of my favoritest stores on planet Earth, so much to look at, so many great deals, cards and books and treasures oh my! I could stay in here for hours, and never scratch the surface of it's wonder.

I love the wacky Japanese kid-street style and have for years. I found an older copy of the book for myself, along with some other gift treasures and a Beatles calendar for 2013. Will I ever outgrow the Beatles or silly street fashion? I doubt it. I will just hopefully evolve into a fancy elegant lady, like the ones featured in this incredible blog about style beyond 50-Advanced Style. So I shopped, and he shopped and we came home to rest and recuperate before my big birthday night, which consisted of take-out, NBA on the telly and silly t.v. Yes, it was a great birthday indeed.

Gettin' Down

November's first weekend was a jazz-vaganza (I'm trying to be lazy and combine jazz and extravaganza but that reminds me too much of vajazzle, which makes me cringe whenever I see or hear it) as Seattle's Earshot Jazz festival came to a close and we caught Evan Flory-Barnes at the Royal Room in Columbia City. This photo sucks as Evan is hidden but the dude has some amazing chops. He was quite the storyteller though, (read, you talk too much,homeboy you never shut up) and dedicated nearly every song to a "special lady." He was charming and pleasant though and we really enjoyed his first set of music. The second set wasn't as pleasing to us but we stayed regardless and watched everyone get down.
Sunday was also a treat for the ears as we caught Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra play a Sunday matinee with Branford Marsalis. The focus was on classics and New Orleans jazz so he played like a man who's been playing this music his whole life, which he has. He makes
it look so easy, it's criminal. SRJO are super talented
too, and they were adorable, especially the baritone
sax player who was probably close to 75 or so.

My beloved big sis arrived into town for the weekend and we did all sorts of touristy and not-so-touristy things. Friday we went on the Underground Tour, which was a bit of a waste of time and 16 bones per person. We skipped out a few minutes early to soothe our souls with some steaming hot Pho, that Vietnamese nectar of the gods. Saturday we committed to serving dinner to my niece's squad of soldiers at Ft. Lewis, near Tacoma. The building we served them in was a 100 year old Red Cross building, so totally gorgeous and well-equipped it was a dream to behold.
It was hard work but worth it, the soldiers seemed to enjoy my sister's lip-smacking Mexican fiesta. Sadly, every single thing she made was meat-laden so I had to bring some salad and other stuff from home to feed my own face. We completed the weekend of good deeds by checking in with Joe, the painter, who lives in his car in our neighborhood. The weather turned wickedly cold and I couldn't help think of how hard it must be on those old bones. Turns out he was good with food but needed blankets or a sleeping bag. We found a decent one for 20 bucks (10% off coupon is better than paying tax) and hooked our brother up. I know we can't help everyone, but even helping one person at a time give me giant, warm fuzzies.

November already?

Zoinks, that happened faster than usual. Perhaps while I wasn't looking I was picked up by a spaceship and whisked away for a bit and lost track of October. It could happen, right? Speaking of spaceship-related madness, why are there so many shows about Bigfoot? I understand the draw of paranormal subject matter but Bigfoot, REALLY? That's just plain silly.

Finally got to see my favorite rapper, Brother Ali, a man with a golden tongue and honey-covered delivery of intensely moving and personal lyrics. His rhymes are often catchy and playful but his current album is very political and serious. We finished the week of music with our new subscription to Seattle Symphony's rush hour series, which are six different symphony experiences, just 90 minutes each, without intermission. I LOVE this idea for several reasons, the main one being that you get some good symphony action without a three hour investment.

My beloved niece has been coming to a friend's rescue and watching his dog on a regular basis. We met up with the kids last weekend, and took a nice walk along the Green River trail. Millie is an older lady but has the vim and vigor of a much younger gal. I want to be Millie when I'm in my 70's, spry and excited about the world around me. She didn't even care when we pretended to do our best zombie imitations and bite her head. What a good lady!

Free For All

Like most people I love free stuff. If you are one of those people who don't then you're a freak. Food samples, stickers, Frisbees, plastic bracelets, all these are swell but my favorite freebies of all time are museums.
Here in Seattle we have the fabulous FRYE, and I recently discovered the Frick, a duo of museums in an extraordinary park, in Pittsburgh's Edgewood neighborhood. These beauties are totally, awesomely free, all the time.
There is a small art museum with changing exhibits and a car/carriage museum that was really unique. I knew absolutely nothing about the different carriages that people used back in the day and the exhibit carriages are totally gorgeous and the amount of info given is just the right amount to inform but not overwhelm. You are supposed to touch anything but of course I couldn't resist a quick little trace of the carriage's leather, so luxurious and supple are decades.
Adjacent to the museums is the Frick family home, Clayton. It was restored in the 90's and features over 90% of original artifacts. The Frick family had exquisite taste and the home is a stunner, full of incredible innovations for the time period. Parts of it are a bit melancholy, as the house is covered with numerous photos of the family's deceased child, who was obviously adored. There is a palpable sadness present, but nothing supernatural. It really is a great example of the golden age of decor and elegance.
No photos are allowed but I did snap a couple outside, since that is all that is allowed.

After our hour+ tour we scored a lovely table at the cafe, which uses some of the items grown in the onsite greenhouse in it's kitchen. We scarfed down a sumptuous kale and cashew soup, and this finger-licking good wild mushroom sandwich, which had me literally scraping the plate.

I was worried that the cafe would be overpriced and average but the food and experience were truly enjoyable. I will visit again, both the museums and the cafe, and hopefully if weather allows we'll stroll through the lovely park. 

Home Away From Home Part Two

My heart lives in Seattle but there are a couple other places I've called home, if need be. Part 1 is San Diego, the original stomping grounds that grew my heart and soul into the grand things that they are, though I know I wouldn't want to call it a permanent hat-hanger, ever again.
Part 2 is Pittsburgh PA. I treasure the vibes here, the still-striving for cosmopolitan-cred city with a heart made 50% of gold the other half of steel.
My beloved sis lives in a charming 'burb about 30 minutes away, close enough to spend time perusing but far away enough to enjoy the changing kaleidoscope of Fall colors without sacrificing one's personal space.
Arrived super late on Friday night, the airport bubbling with travelers, mostly clad in their black and yellow finery, as the Steelers game was just two days away.

Lazy Saturday morning trip to the Sewickley farmers love share, a pint-sized farmer's market that crams a great selection of organic food and deliciousness, into a small space. Balancing organic fruits and vegetables with handmade pastries, bread, handiworks and other treasures this place ROCKS. There are certainly larger markets but this one has loads of heart. The agenda for this trip is a combo deal of action and leisure, some museum hopping and culture skimming, whenever the schedule allows. Speaking of culture, a dear friend of my sister's invited us over for a gorge-fest of handmade Greek delights, scratch-made and heavily dosed with both love and garlic. There were several courses but the highlight for me was the
spanakopita, an elegantly layered pie of phyllo, feta, spinach and spice. So succulent, wish you could all have a taste.

It's good stuff man, the best there is. What beats home-cooked delicacies coupled with new friends sharing stimulating conversations? Nothing I say, not a thing.

Sometimes I Dig Through Crap

                                                                            

For the last three years I've been digging through piles of clothing, searching for the best pieces to fill a boutique that is used by the residents and friends of Jubilee Women's Center, an amazing organization that offers transitional housing for women, along with a multitude of services.

 One of the key services is a boutique that offers free clothing to residents and homeless and low-income women. Sometimes the women leave dangerous situations at a moment's notice, and only have the clothes on their back. Other times they are homeless, and have only a spare change of clothes or two at the most. Individuals and stores in the neighborhood donate, and local businesses will often have clothing drives, to get the garments and accessories to fill our shelves and racks. When things come in they look like the above photo, a total hot mess, stuffed in bags and boxes, often wrinkled, covered in lint or worse. I know that people mean well when they donate but having your 80's denim jumpsuits and moth-eaten sweaters aren't what we need, we need wearable clothes, in good condition, that the women can launder then wear immediately. 90% of our donations are just that, and the rest we donate to other charities, who might make better use of those old 80's shoulder padded, Dynasty silk suits.

We dig through the goods to get the most current and wearable clothes (according to season of course, no swimsuits in December or wool coats in July) and we stock our little shop, not of horrors but of wonders, clothes that make you feel good about yourself, proud of your appearance. That is what a resident told me yesterday, said that she showed up with the clothes on her back and now has a small stockpile of things to wear, things that make her feel proud to go out, able to conquer whatever the world throws her way. I never tire of hearing those words, that a women feels good about herself, and good about the way she looks.

Art with Heart

Driving home from the neighborhood Freddy's we spotted this homeless cat selling his art by the side of the road. Joe works on paper, canvas and wood, because that's what's handy and free.
The piece we bought is a still-life, vibrant and bright and dirty, complete with fingerprints and various smudges from the street-side of life. Joe is a big, African American guy who wore multiple layers of clothes, complete with heavy overcoat, despite the balmy, late summer warmth. He spoke slowly and deliberately, and when my beau offered him some art supplies he perked up considerably, "Yeah man, I'll take whatever." Eric asked if he preferred one medium over another, and he simply said, "Color. I want color."
One of the things that impressed me about him is his willingness to put himself out there, open to rejection, ridicule, whatever. I suppose when you're living in your car (on the street) you've probably experienced some of the worst that life has to offer, and some lousy art criticism will be the least of your worries.

 I want to keep up with Joe, bring him supplies when we can, even though what I'd really love is to help him find a permanent home, a place to hang all those masterpieces.