It was dark when I finally got on the road.  My youngest opted to stay at home with the dogs for the first night. My brother lives around the corner so he said he’d drive by and note how many cars were in the driveway.  I wish she had come with me.   I was nervous about driving to a new place in the dark, especially when it was mountainous.  My car is doing this funny thing with the idle.  When I first get in and go down the street, to the stop sign, the car lurches forward, like someone’s adjusted the idle too fast.

I’d been up this road when I went camping with Wally, and the car seemed fine, but it had started to rain hard so if there were going to be walking involved I would get wet. My car’s never broken down before but then again it’s never done this weird idle thing either.  What if the idle is loose and the car thinks it’s set to 50?  I wish I knew more about cars so I wouldn’t make up all this shit.

There didn’t seem to be anybody else on the road that time of night.  It was the first night of spring break though.  Maybe everyone went to the coast.  I’d heard they’d had to close, up at Mt. Hood, because of the warm weather.

It was only supposed to take an hour to get there.  I wound my way further up and finally saw the sign.  Turning right I followed my directions into a heavily wooded forest.  I could see lights at the end of the road and as I got closer there were spotlights on what looked like beautifully landscaped grounds.  There were maybe nine buildings but I followed my directions to the office.  It seemed very modern for being up here.  I guess I had expected something more in keeping with Timberline Lodge, more rustic.  She gave me two keys and I went to find 24C.  I was pleased to see it was the last building, closest to the woods.

I always love this part the best:  the anticipation.  When I went upstairs to the third floor I found  I was on the end.  This would be totally private.  Behind the handsome door I found something out of the early ’60s.  There was a sunken living room with a slate fireplace that took up most of the wall.  I turned away from the fireplace to  floor-to-ceiling windows that went the length of the room.  There was a slider out to the deck.  I must have a great view but it was too dark to see.  Lots of glass here, even the coffee table was glass.  It would have been too cold for me what with the slate entrance and the marble countertops except that they’d laid a wonderfully colorful, geometric carpet throughout and against the dark wood it felt warm.  The lighting was good, too.  I’m big on lighting.  I turned on the pottery with shades, casting a warm glow across the room

The kitchen was kind of like my new house.  There was a big island which surprised me but I guess because it was a two-bedroom, which could sleep up to six, they provided a full-sized kitchen.  It looked like they’d redone it recently.  I’d brought lots of groceries, too cheap to eat out.  Plus I’m trying to lose weight.

Before I went back to the car for the groceries and luggage I wanted to see the bedrooms and baths.  I took the king for myself.  One long mirror sat above the bank of mahogany dresser.  I peeked around the corner, behind the closet.  The bathroom was almost as big as the bedroom with one of those fancy tubs and lots of jets.  I hadn’t had a bath since I’d moved so I was tempted to jump right in.  The bedroom curtains were ugly but other than that I loved the room.  Again, lots of glass and dark wood with a beautiful comforter and pillows in burnt oranges and rustic reds.  The carpet was predominantly purple and just standing in all the color was making me want to have wild sex.  Maybe I could write a good sex scene.

I went to see the other bedroom and it was nice but boring.  There was a chance my brother and his girlfriend might come up so that would be their room.  I was beginning to think my daughter wasn’t coming up at all.  I went back down to the car to get everything, already enjoying having no dogs.  It was going to be a lovely week.

I’m at the library in Sandy and I have 25 minutes.  I wrote the above while I was still in town. What happened was that my youngest decided she didn’t want to go so I was stuck in town over the weekend.  I decided, as a practice exercise, to write about the place as I imagined it would be.  My fiction class had turned out to be more about working on pieces that I’d already begun; things that really happened.  And my teacher said this was fine, but I thought this fantasy condo would be a good chance to see if I could totally fabricate a setting.  And believe me, I wish I were there instead of where I’m really staying.  I didn’t know there would be a library here so I didn’t bring my notebook.  But I have been writing about the real place and what’s been going on.  I ended up driving up here on Saturday afternoon because I couldn’t stand it any longer.  So I have lots to tell you.  But right now I will go read all of you.

Ahhhhh….life couldn’t be better.  I’ve got a chicken burrito –I made a batch for my youngest– I’ve got a bit of a buzz (two Jack and Cokes) and I’ve got my computer back.  What more is there?  After reading brendaclews , I’m all too aware of what’s lacking.

Sitting in my own chair with all the time in the world and a few day’s backlog of things brewing I could go on and on.  Don’t worry, I won’t.  Or at least I’ll try not to.

I thought I was going to hear Anne Lamott tonight at Powell’s.  And I told officeconfidential  I would be there at 7:00 to get a good seat.  Not that I know her.  But she lives in Portland and when she’d made mention of it she’d asked if anybody was going.  I’m a huge fan so I said I was.  But when the youngest got here –She was supposed to be at her dad’s with the oldest one in charge (yeah, right)  Sorry for this aside, I suspect there may be many tonight. ( their father is in New Orleans probably engaged by now and the arrangement they cooked up was that the oldest would stay at “the family residence” so the youngest wouldn’t have to drive ALL THAT WAY to school every morning.  So the youngest shows up after school and I say I’m going to be gone tonight but she still wants me to cook dinner so I do and I get to Powell’s at 7:05.  Had I gotten there at 7:00 I could have gotten in.  But at 7:05 they closed the doors.  The thing was to start at 7:30 but It’s Anne so I should have known better.

Because I thought I might be meeting Officeconfidential I made an effort.  You know:  hair, make-up, clothes.  I looked pretty good except that my hair is practically black.  That’s a whole ‘nother story.  So as most of you know I don’t go out a whole lot anymore.  And from the time I left Powell’s I started wanting a plan B; you know, all dressed up and no place to go.  I crossed the Burnside Bridge and got on McGloughlin and thought a little about West Moreland but by myself at a neighborhood bar.  Really, at any bar…I just kept driving.  When I was almost home I thought What the hell.  I decided I was going to stop at this place that isn’t too bad.  And it was empty.  Everyone was downtown.  So I got a chance to sit and talk to people who I ended up liking.  It wasn’t too smokey.  Hell, there were only six people in there and it’s a huge place.  Perfect night.

The couple I sat next to –Well, I talked to the g  I’m going protected…

Let’s Talk Cake

It’s my favorite thing to eat.  But, because it’s so hard to find a single good piece of cake, I’m forced to go without for I refuse to make a whole cake just for myself.  Once a year I make a chocolate cake for my youngest. 

Back when I was a foodie I spent a fair amount of time researching cakes.  I did it backwards, though.  I started with the frosting.  More accurately, I started with the decoration:  the rosettes, the piping, fancy lettering; I had a tip for everything.  I took all the cake decorating classes so my girls had some pretty fancy-looking cakes in those early years.  They didn’t much care what was inside as long as the filling wasn’t raspberry. 

The whole cake decorating thing happened because the bakery didn’t have the right kind of filling, according to my oldest.  So I said I could certainly figure out how to make a cake but I would need help in the decorating department.  I can taste the icing now.  I think I must have been the only one who didn’t bake because nobody else ate the icing.  When it would squirt out and get all over the place, I would have to clean it up with my tongue. 

I told my husband, “think how much money we’ll save with me making the birthday cakes.”  That’s how I talked him into babysitting every Monday night, in addition to my Friday nights out.  He was always out of town during the week so he didn’t mind or maybe he just felt guilty and obliged.  I’d leave my messy house and walk into the magic of the cake store.  I loved that smell as I entered the back room with my classmates and all our cakes.  It was shocking to discover some of them brought dummy cakes. 

It was always a struggle getting my cake done in time for class.  I remember the wedding cake.  We were supposed to make a tiered cake using dowels.  Somehow, as I was driving to class, the top tier slid off, onto the floor of my car.  But other than that my cakes always turned out surprisingly well. 

One of the things I loved most was learning how to mix colors.  Art was not my thing but being a seamstress and a gardener I had definite ideas about color.  It was a little frustrating at first but toward the end I was able to come pretty close.  I would make roses the color of the ones in my garden and the leaves would look real, too.

Once I’d mastered frosting I turned my attention to filling, and finally to cake.  I was reading everything I could get my hands on and each week I’d try out a new recipe.  My favorite cakes are lemon buttermilk with strawberries and a lemon, cream-cheese frosting, gingerbread, white cake with lemon curd filling and seven minute frosting, carrot cake, chocolate fudge and banana cake with whipped cream and fresh sliced bananas in the filling.  I also perfected recipes for poppyseed cake, cheesecakes, angelfood, strawberry shortcake and quickbreads.  But I never got around to learning about spongecakes.  There’s an orange one with a glaze made out of orange juice that I am going to make.

I’ve got the chocolate birthday cake in my refrigerator and I’ve been eating it every day.  My daughter was only here long enough to eat two pieces and this is why I don’t make cake:  I can’t leave it alone. 

The cake is light and moist when it first comes out of the oven but once it’s refrigerated in becomes very dense.  I use two 10 inch pans and then slice those in half.  I fill those with Bavarian cream and then put the ganache in between the two halves.  I beat the remaining frosting (ganache) until it is a lighter brown and creamy and then frost the whole thing.  The frosting in the center is the consistency of a truffle while the outside is almost fluffy.  The tastes are all close but the constancies supply a nice contrast.  The silly thing is that I do not decorate it.  I take my spatula and dip it into hot water, sliding it across the frosting until it is as smooth as glass.  It’s a nice, clean look, very tailored.  It took me a full year to perfect this recipe taking three different recipes and combining them. 

I’m curious, what’s your favorite cake?