use real butter

Now it comes down to it… we are on the final segment of our trip. But wait, I haven’t told you about the rest of the middle section of our adventures! Again, this will be quick because I am running on fumes here. You might have guessed by now that vacation is the equivalent of being sleep-deprived for me (big surprise!), but I prefer it that way :)

Wednesday activities: Shot sunrise on Mono Lake. Drove to Mammoth Lakes and caught shuttle to Agnew Meadows. Backpacked in to Thousand Island Lake. Explored Thousand Island Lake.

sunrise over tufa

morning wildlife at mono lake

Wednesday observations: Mono Lake is bigger than you might think. Mammoth is full of yahoos even in summertime. Not a fan of boyscouts in the backcountry. The sun was brutal.

Thursday activities: Packed camp at 4 am. Shot sunrise over Thousand Island Lake. Hiked out to Agnew Meadows. Drove to Mecca Patagucci Patagonia Outlet in Reno and scored mad loot! Dinner in Truckee. Drove to South Lake Tahoe. Camped.

banner peak over thousand island lake

the kind of retail i can get behind

cooling off with a little caffeine in my sugar

pad thai special - not so special

thai beef salad with your yearly supply of sodium

Thursday observations: The wilderness is far more pleasant when boyscouts are asleep. Avoid the River trail in the future when it is going to be ass hot. Nevada is not my kind of place. Thai food in Truckee was overly sweet, salty, and everything else. Campgrounds are a perfect venue for observing how stupid people behave when they perceive they are “out in nature”.

Friday activities: Packed camp at 5 am and got the hell out of Dodge (Tahoe). Drove to Berkeley. Visited The North Face outlet. Met Cindy for lunch. Drove on to San Jose. Began weekend with Grandma.

cindy’s lunch

and salad

mi torta with amazing delicious fabulous pork

why are we standing here? why aren’t we skiing?

Friday observations: Bay area drivers suck at driving. The North Face Outlet is so ghetto compared to Patagonia’s outlet. One hour to meet Cindy for lunch is too little time. Love Berkeley. Before we rushed off in our separate directions, Cindy presented each of us with a box of… cookies! It was maybe 5 minutes in the car before I busted into a box and fed Jeremy (and myself) a wonderful homemade iced ginger cookie from Cindy’s kitchen. Such a sweetheart.

Well, I’m not really coherent anymore, but it was delightful to meet Cindy in person and I loved our lunch at Tacubaya. She makes me laugh just as much in person as she does on her blog! And now she knows one of my debilitating weaknesses… pretty lunch menus written in green chalk.

This is my last post of the trip. Plenty of pics coming up when I get home (and yes, more recipes). Until then, have a great weekend! End Communication.

I shuffled through a half inch of snow this morning on my way out the door. I told you the weather in April is psycho around here. Halfway down the canyon to Boulder, the sun was shining as tiny grauple pelted the windshield. Yay spring! I met with Beth for brekkie at the South Side Walnut Café. The menu is très Boulder with plenty of veggie, vegan, and omnivore eats on the menu. I chose the quiche. I chose poorly. The quiche was fine, but my digestive system can’t handle green chiles quite as well as it does when healthy. Okay, but it’s the company that matters most.

Just a few days ago, Boulder was full of nearly naked people sauntering about the downtown pedestrian mall because of the warm temperatures. Today, folks donned hats and down jackets to ward off the cold, wind, and light snow. It looked like a typical day in January at the Boulder Farmers’ Market - except the market isn’t open in January…

love the cello

My first exposure to a farmers’ market was in Pasadena, California at PHS. Boat loads of produce, fresh fish, breads and baked goods, honey, plants, tamales (oh, the tamales!). One of my favorite things to buy was a 10 lb. bag of oranges for $2. These oranges were green-skinned from the San Joaquin Valley, but when you sliced them open you were treated to jewel orange flesh that was as sweet as sugar and juicy beyond imagination. Perfect for those weekend grass double volleyball tourneys.

a splash of floral color

When we moved to Ithaca, New York, I was surprised to learn that the farmers’ market (like most) is seasonal. That is, it isn’t open year-round. I guess living in Southern California warps your perspective on the seasons seeing as there are only two: pleasant and bloody hot - and things grow year round. I have to say I was rather disappointed in the Ithaca Farmers’ Market. It was heavily weighted in the arts and crafts vendors than people selling actual food. Well, people sold prepared food, but the presence of farmed produce was paltry in comparison to the bounty of So Cal.

the market was busy considering the unseasonable cold

And then we find ourselves in Boulder with a farmers’ market that appears to be an integration of the Pasadena and Ithaca markets with a healthy dose of Boulder activism and weirdness tossed in for good measure. Boulder is also a seasonal market, having just opened a few weeks ago it closes in the fall. Organic is big here. You can buy grass-fed bison and elk meat. One of the booths sells microbe brew - for plants! There is a gluten-free bakery stand as well.

a local csa

Beth and I decided to mosey on through the market after brekkie. One of the reasons Jeremy and I rarely make it to the Boulder Farmers’ Market is because we’re usually hoofing it in the mountains before the Crack Ass of Dawn on Saturdays. But Jeremy’s off mentoring one of his grad students and an undergrad on a giant radio dish across the country this weekend. So it was a nice chance to chill with Beth, who is one of the more mellow people I know.

she is also a little crazy

We wandered through the prepared food vendors’ section and sort of wished we hadn’t eaten breakfast. Each booth elicited a “mmmmmm… hot dogs” or “mmmmmm… dumplings” or “mmmmmm… falafel” or “mmmmmm… tamales” from one or both of us. Beth hovered around the Haystack Mountain tent as did everyone else for samples of their fantastic goat cheese. Good stuff. Local.

beth samples at one of the cheese tents

I’m looking forward to the market as the season matures and brings those lovely stone fruits from the western slope, melons, Asian greens, and I’ll be all over the heirloom tomatoes. It was snowing back home as I topped the canyon and got a splendid view of our beloved (but closed) local ski hill.

it looks skiable to me

We have some well-traveled visitors staying at our house. SIX of them to be exact. Normally six guests might be a bit much, but these guys have been delightful and the easiest guests ever. Naturally we’re going to take anyone visiting in March (as long as they are able) skiing!

from the parking lot of the local hill this morning

Yes, our guests are a half dozen eggs that Hannah of Bittersweet crocheted for a traveling egg meme!! I’d like to point out that Hannah is fricking amazing. This young woman is so accomplished… it’s like she just finished a marathon and I’m still wandering around looking for the starting line with one shoe on! And it was Helen’s sweet and fun-loving nature to set the meme in motion. In no particular order, these adventurous eggs have graced the blogs of: Helen, Peabody, Mary (aka Breadchick), Ivonne, Lisa, and Anita. It says so on the carton, which we all sign. Actually, I know Anita was the last one because she sent them along to me with that amazing package of goodies. *love* Anita. I am honored and humbled to host these very special and adorable eggs.

I had to wait a week until I had recovered enough from treatment so I could show the eggs a proper time in Colorado. Proper = snow.

how many crocheted eggs get to ride a ski lift, eh?

I think the little dudes were scared shitless on the lift, but no worries - they were in good hands all morning. And by good hands, I mean they were in mine.

first evar tele eggs!

They loved it, but seriously, who doesn’t love tele? I guess it’s easy to love when you’re an egg and a tele babe cradles you down the slopes! Of course, in the afternoon I had to introduce them to Kaweah who was quite keen to sniff and lick and chew on them. No way I was going to let that happen, so after a lot of scolding she settled down and the eggs became confident enough to check her out.

why so glum, chum?

thankfully made of yarn and not real egg parts

auggggggggggggh!

The eggs are safe with nary a wisp of dog drool. Kaweah continually walks up to the table they are on and wags her tail. Sorry pup, but these eggs are headed overseas to someplace new, exciting, and… delicious!

We let the eggs rest while we drove down to Boulder to run a few errands. To celebrate that I can eat (and taste) solid foods again, Jeremy took me to The Med for some tapas yummies.

pizza margherita

some bistecca alla genovese (grilled hanger steak)

Then we strolled down Pearl Street Ped Mall to pick up some care-package goodies and what did I see to my utter delight and joy?

PATAGUCCI!

A Patagucci of my Boulder’s very own that opened a mere two weeks ago! I’m no fashion plate, but I do plunk down a pretty penny for good gear and Patagonia has *excellent* performant clothing and a great company mission. In fact, that picture of me skiing above? Every piece of clothing I’m wearing is Patagucci except the gloves (yup, even the clothing you DON’T see). Of course, I’m enough of a bum that I buy most of it on sale (fire sale, that is). Oh, and I do love myself some Italian footwear, namely Scarpa and La Sportiva.

Now if only a Trader Joe’s would open up, I’d really be pleased as punch.