butterflydreaming (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
butterflydreaming) wrote2006-01-07 08:29 pm
butterflydreaming) wrote2006-01-07 08:29 pm
Day and Rain
Time wandered with me today. I stopped in two different coffee venues, the first up in Admiral District (Speranza) where I ordered a latte because the barista was giving us the petite fours for free. The pretty little squares were filled with marizipan and white cake, with a light enhancement of raspberry in one. They were left over from Speranza's holiday party last night; she gave them to us to solve the mysteries of their flavors, hoping to find the pattern that was carrot cake. The espresso at Speranza is by Cafe Umbria. The latte was good, adequately drinkable, but the espresso itself had a flat, uninspiring flavor.
From there we walked down Admiral hill to Alki. The rain was light and pleasant on gusts with a sharp, cold edge. There's a small park on the way that is like a drift in thought; it is little more than a path that swirls, a few benches, a low curved wall, and a chunk of basalt that forms a bird bath. Yet this portioned space on a lot between houses has a name -- Nantes Park -- and a sense of place. It removes the traveler far enough from the flowing noise of the road that it has collected quiet. I think it will be a nice place to read when the weather becomes safe for books again.
I'm between books. Only Forward absorbed my intrest through last week, but I finished it last night. For the first time, Michael Marshall Smith hasn't left me sparking with ideas, but the problem is me, not the book. The book was delicious. I started taking the slow bus to work so that I wouldn't have to stop reading when I changed buses (due to the weather and lack of shelter). I have a cozy post-ending buzz of satisfaction from it. The ending doesn't crackle, or train wreck with magnificence; it is, instead, an unexpectedly happy ending. I wonder if those who enjoyed reading China Mieville's Perdido St. Station might like Only Forward.
2046, which I watched last night, followed with a thematic harmony. That was another SIFF movie that I had wanted to see. It's a good movie to watch while nested in pillows, an effectively slow, quiet movie that is nice to watch alone, so I'm glad I waited.
On the Alki sand, in the wind scattered rain, were more gulls than people. I like the peculiarities of beach houses, which come in an excentric variety of architectural styles. There was one on the walk down Lander, like a small brick castle, that I would buy in an instant if I had $700K itching to be spent. We passed another where the owners had rebuilt the fence to give more space to one of the two large cedars on their lot. People who appreciate trees, like people who understand cats, are never all bad.
There are two new restaurants to the crowd of eateries on Alki; one is Thai, and one is Mexican; they are in the same building, upstairs and downstairs respectively. Two-for-one margaritas (and my continuing satisfaction with Tom Yum Koon on California Ave) make me inclined to try the Mexican place first. We're close to the wrong national border for "authentic" Mexican in my neighborhood, but I keep hoping for someplace with good tortillas anyway.
My second cup of coffee would have been at Alki bakery. I was too full from fish & chips at Spud's to want another latte; all I could do was assist with the consumption of a fresh cinnamon roll (yummy cream cheese frosting). Their coffee has improved notably since they switched to Cafe Vita and started using DaVinci chocolate for their mochas and cocoas. They've always had good baristas. I used to order their coffee anyway, but now I'm much happier.
On that strip of businesses, only a few blocks long, there are four coffee places that I can think of: Starbucks, Tully's, Homefront, and Alki Bakery. (Sleepless is more than a mile away, but if you're discerning, worth the distance.) I've lived in the Emerald City long enough for that to seem normal to me.
Tomorrow, depending on weather and when I get out of bed,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
divinityof_fire and I might take the ferry over to Bainbridge Island for Mochi Tsuki. We think the event involves mochi pounding and taiko drumming; beyond that, it's an adventure. I'm kind of either-or about it. Japanese festivals don't seem quite as fun if I can't even wear one of my haori coats.
I'm amazed that it isn't even 9 o'clock. I feel as conscious of today's moments as an embroiderer with her needle is conscious of the cloth's weave.
From there we walked down Admiral hill to Alki. The rain was light and pleasant on gusts with a sharp, cold edge. There's a small park on the way that is like a drift in thought; it is little more than a path that swirls, a few benches, a low curved wall, and a chunk of basalt that forms a bird bath. Yet this portioned space on a lot between houses has a name -- Nantes Park -- and a sense of place. It removes the traveler far enough from the flowing noise of the road that it has collected quiet. I think it will be a nice place to read when the weather becomes safe for books again.
I'm between books. Only Forward absorbed my intrest through last week, but I finished it last night. For the first time, Michael Marshall Smith hasn't left me sparking with ideas, but the problem is me, not the book. The book was delicious. I started taking the slow bus to work so that I wouldn't have to stop reading when I changed buses (due to the weather and lack of shelter). I have a cozy post-ending buzz of satisfaction from it. The ending doesn't crackle, or train wreck with magnificence; it is, instead, an unexpectedly happy ending. I wonder if those who enjoyed reading China Mieville's Perdido St. Station might like Only Forward.
2046, which I watched last night, followed with a thematic harmony. That was another SIFF movie that I had wanted to see. It's a good movie to watch while nested in pillows, an effectively slow, quiet movie that is nice to watch alone, so I'm glad I waited.
On the Alki sand, in the wind scattered rain, were more gulls than people. I like the peculiarities of beach houses, which come in an excentric variety of architectural styles. There was one on the walk down Lander, like a small brick castle, that I would buy in an instant if I had $700K itching to be spent. We passed another where the owners had rebuilt the fence to give more space to one of the two large cedars on their lot. People who appreciate trees, like people who understand cats, are never all bad.
There are two new restaurants to the crowd of eateries on Alki; one is Thai, and one is Mexican; they are in the same building, upstairs and downstairs respectively. Two-for-one margaritas (and my continuing satisfaction with Tom Yum Koon on California Ave) make me inclined to try the Mexican place first. We're close to the wrong national border for "authentic" Mexican in my neighborhood, but I keep hoping for someplace with good tortillas anyway.
My second cup of coffee would have been at Alki bakery. I was too full from fish & chips at Spud's to want another latte; all I could do was assist with the consumption of a fresh cinnamon roll (yummy cream cheese frosting). Their coffee has improved notably since they switched to Cafe Vita and started using DaVinci chocolate for their mochas and cocoas. They've always had good baristas. I used to order their coffee anyway, but now I'm much happier.
On that strip of businesses, only a few blocks long, there are four coffee places that I can think of: Starbucks, Tully's, Homefront, and Alki Bakery. (Sleepless is more than a mile away, but if you're discerning, worth the distance.) I've lived in the Emerald City long enough for that to seem normal to me.
Tomorrow, depending on weather and when I get out of bed,
divinityof_fire and I might take the ferry over to Bainbridge Island for Mochi Tsuki. We think the event involves mochi pounding and taiko drumming; beyond that, it's an adventure. I'm kind of either-or about it. Japanese festivals don't seem quite as fun if I can't even wear one of my haori coats.I'm amazed that it isn't even 9 o'clock. I feel as conscious of today's moments as an embroiderer with her needle is conscious of the cloth's weave.
no subject
I've fighting the winter doldrums myself, and a day like that might have done the trick.