Happy Birthday, You sassy little thing!

This year one of my favorite things is turning 60! The one and only Runza! A Google search of Runza recipes yields over 17,000 results mostly from people that have moved away from Nebraska and are trying to produce these little meat pies in their own kitchen, just like I did this weekend.

Although I don't actually ever eat the real deal anymore, since I don't eat meat, my Mom makes great vegetarian Runzas for me when I come home. Here is what I was able to pull off with the few things that aren't guacamole in my fridge.

Sara Holmes Sandwich Part Two:

One pack of frozen white dough (I'm imitating fast food, not trying to rule the world)
Small bag of dried mixed mushrooms, soaked in hot water to rehydrate and drained
Half a cabbage, a white one
Onion, also a white one
Fake meat, the more, the merrier
Big chunk of Tillamook smoked black pepper white cheddar

Okay, here is what I did. I set out the dough and let it rise earlier in the day. Came back to it and portioned it out into lady sized handfuls. Saute onion,then add shredded cabbage and do a little more sauteing. I let mine brown a little but kept it crisp. I added a lot of salt and pepper. Add fake meat crumbles, I used Yves brand and I added two packs because they are small and I wanted the sandwich good and meaty, "Just like Grandma used to make." Pull mix off the stove and transfer to a glass bowl, here I shredded the chunk of cheese into the mix, slowly and stirring often to distribute the shreds evenly. Lastly, I mixed in the great mushrooms my brother hunts for with this little Hungarian mushroom expert lady. I laid out the fistfuls of dough and flattened them out to make a little envelope for the stuffing.
Next, I folded the dough packets over and placed them, seam side down onto a greased cookie sheet. Bake for 20-25 minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven.
I like to eat mine with ketchup like the good old days when ketchup was my favorite food.
Happy 60th Birthday, Runza sandwich! Oh, and Happy 150th Birthday, Oregon. You're pretty good too. Love, Holmes Was Wrong!

Best window in town!

This is my all time favorite Portland waffle store, the Waffle Window in the alley at Bread and Ink. It really makes me miss living in SE Portland and making my 6 mile early morning treks with Gambit on Sunday mornings. The waffles are candy coated and delicious and the toppings are homemade and genius. My all time favorite is the Huckleberry/Lemon Curd. Yesterday I tried the Bananamisu which had coffee mascarpone (most of which my niece bummed off me) bananas and chocolate drizzle. It was like a waffle with melted ice cream. My favorite part of the window is the man that runs it. He always forgets my coffee and is always so happy and chatty.The lady in the picture is his wife, who is also lovely and sweet and sometimes pops up to hand out coffee with icing coated hands.

Kale Chips! Sounds gross but it ain't. Trust Holmes on this

1-2 big bunches of kale
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon oil
coarse salt (to taste)

Directions:

Pre-heat oven to 350.

Wash and de-stem kale. Chop or tear into "chip" size pieces.

Spread onto baking sheet. Pour the apple cider vinegar, oil and seasoning (1-2 tablespoons) onto kale. Mix to coat all pieces.

Bake for 10 minutes or until crispy. Serve immediately!

Serves: 3-4 or just one hungry lady

Preparation time: 3 minutes

Pistols at Dawn. Irving Street.

Dear Neighbor, I would like to take this corner of my blog to publicly apologize for winking at you at the market that one night. I really didn't mean it in the "hey, you have an eye patch and that is why I recognize you" way. I'd also like to apologize for the treadmill challenge I instigated at the gym for no reason. Please stop playing with my dog on the sidewalk but ignoring me. It's so awkward. Would you like to have a duel to settle this up?

The real Katie Holmes. The best Katie Holmes. My little sister, Katie Holmes

I've been listening to Updike read his own poetry a lot lately. He had such a comforting voice

Returning Native

by John Updike

What can you say about Pennsylvania

in regard to New England except that

it is slightly less cold, and less rocky,

or rather that the rocks are different?

Redder, and gritty, and piled up here and there,

whether as glacial moraine or collapsed springhouse

is not easy to tell, so quickly

are human efforts bundled back into nature.

In fall, the trees turn yellower—

hard maple, hickory, and oak

give way to tulip poplar, black walnut,

and locust. The woods are overgrown

with wild-grape vines, and with greenbrier

spreading its low net of anxious small claws.

In warm November, the mulching forest floor

smells like a rotting animal.

A genial pulpiness, in short: the sky

is soft with haze and paper-gray

even as the sun shines, and the rain

falls soft on the shoulders of farmers

while the children keep on playing,

their heads of hair beaded like spider webs.

A deep-dyed blur softens the bleak cities

whose people palaver in prolonged vowels.

There is a secret here, some death-defying joke

the eyes, the knuckles, the bellies imply—

a suet of consolation fetched straight

from the slaughterhouse and hung out

for chickadees to peck in the lee of the spruce,

where the husks of sunflower seeds

and the peace-signs of bird feet crowd

the snow that barely masks the still-green grass.

I knew that secret once, and have forgotten.

The death-defying secret—it rises

toward me like a dog’s gaze, loving

but bewildered. When winter sits cold and black

on Boston’s granite hills, in Philly,

slumped between its two polluted rivers,

warmth’s shadow leans close to the wall

and gets the cement to deliver a kiss.

I want school kids on buses singing his name!

Today is my best friends birthday!! Happy Birthday Spencer. I love this guy so much. One time I took a train half way across the states to see him. The great part about Aim Trak is you can bring anything you want on board. They encourage bringing alcohol, I think. The bad thing about me is I never buy new stuff. To an outsider it would seem that I go out of my way to buy the dumbest, oldest junk out there. Take the thermos for instance, that I filled to the brim with red wine that spilled out into my waterproof bike bag packed with books and magazines for my three day train ride. I spent the first two days trying to slowly dump the liter or two of wine onto the floor of the train because there was no other option. If you have a bag of wine, you are a lady in trouble. It is in no way portable. You take one step and you are the lady from the movie Poltergeist, sloshing with each step forward. I was sweating every second until each drop was out of my possession. Anyway, there was a rail fire. I ended up in a bus in the middle of no where. On the bus, there was a stabbing. I ended up somewhere in New York state. My cell phone was dead. I kept writing postcards to my Maud. Somehow, lying to her that everything was okay was the only way to prevent myself from believing the fact that we passed being okay back at the rail explosion. But I digress, I made it to NYC and I would do it again. Why? Because I love this kid more than anyone else! Let's hear it for S. Yeagley on his 28th birthday!!!!

While I was away....................

It's been a really weird weekend this week and I have had a lot of ups and downs. Let me explain this by playing a little game my friend Megsie introduced to me in her last letter. It's called Proud/Not Proud and I am so proud of her for inventing it. Okay so here is what I have to say for myself. Saturday: Ran 10 miles really early in the morning (Proud!) Talked to my friend Jen on the phone (Proud!) Considered taking out a second library card to avoid paying my ever growing fine for losing the complete third season of Family Guy (Proud, at first and then really Not Proud) Phone dies in middle of conversation while I am half way to the supermarket (Not Proud) It is dead because I wanted to have my phone in my bed so I wouldn't have to get up and walk on the cold floor to turn the alarm off (Proud of plan, Not Proud of consequences) Tried to explain myself to a bum (Not Proud) Got into a long conversation about why he feels the continent is about to strip itself of borders and the U.S., Canada and Mexico are all going to be one thing and something blah, blah, blah(So Unproud) Told him I am unemployed and live on oatmeal (Proud) Hid my Whole Foods bags behind my back (Proud) Let him explain to me for a very long time how easy it would be for me to become a pot dealer (Unproud) Became sort of convinced (Unproud) Asked him if by 225 he meant two hundred and twenty five (Unproud) Told him I would read up on a raw food diet (Proud) gave him a high five (Proud) Came down really hard on my tail bone when I was sliding off the newspaper vending machine I was sitting on during the lecture (Unproud) Gave him one more high five for pretending not to notice the way I nailed myself on the metal box (Proud) Realized it was probably a good idea to try to start over, made an amazing plan (Proud) Decided to buy a box of Nutter Butters (Proud) Change back into my pajamas (Proud) make some coffee I got at the shop I worked at in college (So Proud) and watch Rushmore with my dog laying on my collarbone (Proud) Fell asleep spooning Gambit(Proud, I taught him that!) and woke up two hours later throwing up and really thinking that I had been poisoned by the fake peanut butter in the cookies (Unproud) Fell asleep on my bath mat wearing pink running shorts from high school and clutching a book about raising ducks in urban areas (It's kinda half and half, the ducks were really cool but if anyone would have walked in and saw me my reputation as a totally awesome person would have been wrecked) Woke up on Sunday morning and realized I had missed a call at 6:30 pm on a Saturday night because I was fake poisoned by peanut shaped sandwich cookies(Unproud), missed a text to go to a free hip hop dance party at a bar in my neighborhood with the dudes (Unproud) and wouldn't in a million years be able to make it to secret catholic club with Quentin (Unproud) Texted Q and told him and Aaron to pray for me (Proud) Went bed in my bed instead of my bathmat (Proud) Missed The New York Times and whiskey with Q (Unproud)Missed waffles with my brother and the babies (Unproud) Went to Pilates (Proud) Called Maud and listened to a story about making a pot roast (Proud) I think things are going to be a lot better for this lady this week. Proof you ask? Let me explain that by the numbers:
Number of dollars I found running in Washington Park this morning: 1
Number of nickels I found in my jacket: 1
Number of Salt Bagels I bought for 1.05: 1
Number of high fives Gambit offered me, without me asking: 879
Number of seconds it took him to eat his half: 2
Number of people I saw before 9am with eye patches:2
Can't argue with the cold, hard numbers. This is my Week!

Remember when we were famous that one week, Andy?

I Saw You...: Comics Inspired by Real-Life Missed Connections

by Julia Wertz

Synopses & Reviews

Publisher Comments:

This anthology of comics inspired by real-life missed connection ads posted on Craigslist and in local papers around the country will tug at your heartstrings and make you think. Lonely hearts, romantics, and even cynics pore over missed connection ads in search of love, to gawk and giggle, or out of curiosity. These posted stranger sightings and chance encounters lay bare the truths and oddities of real-life loneliness and attractions and bring out the voyeur in the best of us. I Saw You takes this phenomenon and makes it even better.

Julia Wertz has gathered the stars and soon-to-be-stars of the graphic art world, including Peter Bagge, Jesse Reklaw, Tom Hart, Sam Henderson, Laura Park, Emily Flake, Keith Knight, Janelle Hessig, Gabrielle Bell, Aaron Renier, Austin English, Corinne Mucha, Jeffrey Brown, Alec Longstreth, Minty Lewis, Joey Sayers, David Malki, Kazimir Strzepek, Ken Dahl, Shannon Wheeler, Shaenon Garrity, Rodd Perry, Abby Denson, Damien Jay, Sarah Glidden, and dozens more, to interpret these plaintive, hopeful postings in drawings that range from laugh-out-loud funny to disarmingly strange.

When Andy and I first moved to Portland and I was still green enough to think that jobs were found in newspaper want ads, I happened upon the I Saw You section of the weekly free paper. I happened upon it because one of the headlines was "Andy and Sara From The Mill". Whoa! Fame the second week in town. The ad said that the secret admirer had seen us walking on Hawthorne by The Baghdad, so it has to be true. We always did stuff like that. Andy is forever mad at me for not cutting it out for his diary or something but it really happened. Andy K. and Sara H. had their day in the sun! Probably their last. I really should have cut that ad out.

As an apology to Andy, and a fond nod at our days of eating Hawaiian food on Clinton Street and reading personal ads to each other, we will be found at Powells this week, reading the new book to each other, pretending to eat food that is mayonnaise based and wondering which of the faces around us is creepy enough to take the time to put into print such weird shit in a free paper.