collectively amazing

Ways I would not like to spend my evenings: smoking lucky strikes, eating a banana and drinking corner store coffee (or who knows what) out of a styrofoam cup.

The morning of our first full day in Copenhagen, we were met with this sight as we left the hostel to go on a coffee expedition. It was simultaneously nauseating* and captivating (hence the need to record it).

We left this lovely scene and went to the Coffee Collective, which is an incredible shop in the Norrebro neighborhood that just happened to be within walking distance of our hostel. The baristas were friendly and made great coffee (I think we had at least 3 drinks a piece every time we went there). We lurked for so long that I'm sure we overstayed our welcome (sorry Annastina! and also sorry if I spelled/got your name wrong). It was hard to force ourselves to visit other shops in the city because we knew just how good the coffee would be at the Coffee Collective.

Eventually I will blather about non-coffee related vacation activities. I promise.

*sorry, smoker friends. I can't and don't usually hide it. I hate cigarette smoke, but I have reasons.

the land before the new york times

The other night at a dinner party, a friend asked me if I wanted to borrow a book, and instead of reflexively saying yes! which I am wont to do whenever this friend recommends a book, I respectfully declined because I actually have too many other things to read right now. When I revealed that those other things included 2 weeks worth of old newspapers, someone else scoffed and said "why? they're irrelevant!" (here's a tip: if you want to make people feel good about themselves and enjoy spending time with you, don't tell them their goals are irrelevant)

You know what? I don't read the news every day. I don't even read the news every other day. Those 2 weeks of newspapers are actually really informative for me, and I have no intention of pitching them into the recycling bin unread. I understand if all of you horrified news hounds decide to leave this blog in the dust and move on to more informed pastures.

All of this is to say that I am instituting Screen Free Sundays in an effort to avoid piles of blue plastic bags filled with prehistoric information. No blog reading. No blog posting. No email checking. No work hub checking. No picture posting. Nothing. Nada. Analog only, with the exception of using my phone, which now has a pretty sizable screen because I finally upgraded to a smartphone, and my ipod because life with a soundtrack is just more enjoyable sometimes.

third time's the charm

I have yet to discuss any of our trip to Europe last fall. I took copious notes in a little black book provided by the wonderful Ester, and I took tons of pictures, but I never figured out a good (and not overwhelming) way to share the experience beyond posting pictures to flickr. I still don't have a concrete idea of what I want to do, so I'm just going to periodically post a picture and a short description because something is better than nothing.

Today's picture was taken at Cafe CK in Berlin. It was a beautiful morning and we rode across the city* to the coffee shop to have breakfast and amazing coffee before heading off to do yet another Fat Tire Bike Tour. We went to Cafe CK 3 mornings in a row because the baristas and the owner were so nice and the coffee was some of the best we had during that leg of the trip.

Two other great shops to try if you ever find yourself in Berlin: The Barn (tasty food, exceptional coffee and Ralf, the owner, is beyond friendly) and Bonanza Coffee Heroes (I'm guessing they just go by Bonanza).

*note to self: do not stay in West Berlin when most of your planned activities are in East Berlin. It's a sprawling city (especially compared to New York) and while public transportation is great, we were attempting to rely on bikes with tires the width of a basset hound, which was not a pleasant experience. We finally gave up and turned our bikes in for the comfort of the train.

growing stains

I find cryptic "exciting or strange things are afoot, but I can't reveal them right now!" updates to be exasperating, so I'm just going to lay it all out there with some points of necessary obscurity.

Large Event Number One: I am now employed by a Very Successful Coffee shop that also employs Charrow*. The job is fast-paced (although I'm told it's usually even faster-paced), engaging, educational, and menial all in one brown-stained package. It feels good to be out in the world, interacting with people and getting my hands dirty (but washing them before helping another customer, of course).

Large Event Number Two: I'm painting for one of the owners of said coffee establishment. It's a huge job that involves kitchen cabinets, high ceilings, and more trim that I can fit into a week's worth of nightmares, but it will look good in the end. If I ever get to the end of it.

Large Event Number Three: is waiting in the wings for now. I've put my website development and dog training business on temporary hiatus. Events number one and two are consuming most of my physical energy, leaving me with fumes to scrape together a functional household, a regular exercise routine, and maybe, just maybe enough mental energy to revive this here blog. I know there is no perfect time to start a business (or have a baby, so I'm told) but I need to get into a working routine and finish the painting job before I jump headfirst into the world of dogs and self-promotion. There may be some behind the scenes brainstorming when the brain has enough juice to storm, but the major creative activities will happen down the road a bit.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a way to get this primer off of my elbows before I head to the coffee slinging.

*yes, we work in the same shop, and no it's not weird or causing any problems. It's actually pretty fun. I get to hang out with someone I really like while giving people coffee that they really like and there are jars filled with money at the end of the day!

frozen apple pie

It's snowing. AGAIN.

In an effort to self delude, I'm posting a picture from last summer's apple picking expedition. We spent the morning sweating and eating our way across the picking area and then we took a fortuitous trip down Skunk Lane where we found this beachside park on Little Peconic Bay.

Today's mantra: it's summer somewhere, damn it.

wintry mistress

Is it possible to fall in love with chicago in the dead of winter? Maybe it was all of the legal stimulants I consumed. Maybe it was the good company. Or maybe it's just an awesome city with an unfortunate climate.

haphazard mouseketeers

As I was eating breakfast today, I noticed that the cats were nowhere to be seen. Usually after her morning eat-a-thon, Fatty sprawls out on the carpet and stares at me while I try to read the newspaper (at least a week old because I'm perpetually bad at reading it the day we receive it). I asked Charrow if she had seen the cats and she said, "yeah, they're both laying in the bathroom."

You might think, "oh how cute. They're having a slumber party." Do you know what I think? VERMIN. As in, a 4 to possibly 8-legged intruder has crossed the threshold, and they are hunkered down in a stakeout with an intent to maim, kill, and eat whatever they find.

I went into the bathroom and found Fatty in a crouch, staring at the cabinet that houses the 19 tubes of toothpaste I bought on amazon subscribe & save. I aimed the flashlight at the baseboard behind the cabinet and sure enough, I saw the distinct curve of a mouse tail.

My bright idea was to catch him. Charrow thought it was futile. We armed ourselves with square tupperware, barricaded the crack under the door with a towel (how awful would it be if we tried to save the mouse from imminent slaughter and then accidentally shuttled him out of the bathroom and into the cats' death pen?), and blocked the closet door.

Charrow moved the cabinet and the mouse moved with it. I saw the flash of a tail, but the mouse remained hidden in Fort Toothpaste. There was just too much surface area for him to stay under while the cabinet moved, so we didn't have any hope of catching him that way. Charrow was ready to give up the hunt, but I refused to leave it up to the cats, so I suggested we squirt him with water to flush him out. She humored me and squirted in the mouse's direction a few times, but instead of seeing a flash of gray streak across the floor, all we heard was a disgruntled squeak.

The next strategy was to lift one end of the cabinet, but then charrow would be rendered useless, and I would be responsible for catching the mouse. Neither of us thought that was a good idea, so instead, she started dramatically shifting the cabinet around. The mouse ran past her feet, around the litter box blocking the closet door, and disappeared. We thought he had somehow managed to squeeze into the miniscule crack beneath the closet door, but that seemed impossible, so charrow poked at the towel covering the escape route under bathroom door. Sure enough, the mouse was tucked into a fold of the towel. Charrow tried to get her tupperware around him, but the wily little guy managed to zip right out from under her and back to Dry Goods Manor. In a moment of weakness, I said "what did you do?!" which could have turned the expedition into a sour finger-pointing game, but Charrow took it in stride, and I realized it was ridiculous to think that I could have done a better job.

At that point, we both surveyed the futility of the situation. Large bumbling humans. Tiny, lightning fast rodent. But I couldn't bring myself to let the animal kingdom decide the winner of the game, so we kept at it. A few more nudges of the cabinet, and the mouse was back out in the open. I screamed involuntarily because this time he ran towards my side of the bathroom in an attempt to get out the door, but he got caught between the towel barricade* and an industrial sized bag of baking soda (for the litter box).

I don't know HOW she did it, but when the mouse found a way out of his corner and was headed back to the safe house, Charrow threw her tupperware over him and viola! the hunt was over. The mouse ran in frantic squares under the plastic cage, and then just sat there while Charrow slid a magazine under the tupperware to seal him in for the release portion of the expedition. We took him up the street a couple of blocks to the wooded area that divides the neighborhood road from the main Grand Army Plaza thoroughfare. Thankfully, the city that never sleeps isn't early to rise on Sundays. We didn't pass a soul in the elevator or on the street. When we got back to the apartment, Fatty was basking in the glory of the living room rug like nothing had ever happened.

*This would have been a very different story without that towel. It's a small apartment, but can you imagine trying to find a mouse the size of a lemon before two bloodthirsty hunting machines?