I really enjoyed this morning's ULI Seattle breakfast: The City in 2050: The Infrastructure of Innovation.
The speakers included: the Washington State governor from 1965-1977, Daniel J. Evans - Wonderful speaker - Here's a man who lead this state before I was born, and I felt like I could relate to what he said more than many current government leaders; David Brewster, and Uwe Brandes.
The entire breakfast was motivational and challenging. I really appreciated the message of citizen leadership that echoed during the discussion. (A conversation I could have listened to all day.)
A few interesting thoughts...
By the year 2050, it is projected that Seattle will absorb the equivalent of the entire population of Portland, OR. Imagine everyone in Portland getting in their cars, hopping on buses, trains and planes, and coming here. And staying.
When Metro was first proposed to this region, it was considered Communist. Just sayin'.
Second only to Austin, Seattle has a very high population of more recent transplants. Trying to find the exact stat online - not successful yet. This doesn't surprise me. I often find myself the only person in a group of people who is from here. I can only name a handful of other people who fit this description.
On a similar train of thought... Seattle used to be where people stayed. They had experienced bigger cities and smaller cities and found Seattle to be "just right." Now, Seattle is a "first city." We attract college graduates, who aren't necessarily tied down here.
Our world population is at a threshold - there are more people living in urban environments than rural.
All of these thoughts shape how we govern. There was talk of "de-centralizing" city government, and, although it seems paradoxical, perhaps we will see a renaissance in political involvement. The idea is to promote district/neighborhood level leadership.... hmmm...
It also shapes how we plan and build the future city of Seattle. How we create neighborhoods that discourage driving and offer people what they need. How we allow people to age in place.
The take away from this morning's breakfast is The City in 2050: Creating Blueprints for Change. I'm excited to read it.
Mashed Potatoes with Leeks. Steamed Rainbow Chard
As I've mentioned before, I've been loving having a small box of New Roots produce delivered every other Monday. I love that it's mostly local and organic (occasionally they will arrange to have produce sent up from California when it isn't in season here.) It forces me to prepare and eat many vegetables I may not be in the regular habit of eating. It's convenient and nutritious.
The challenge is that we lead fairly busy schedules. I find solace in cooking, but I get off work a little later than many. And one of us has soccer 3 nights a week. Which typically means smaller, lighter dinners. Don't want to run around for 90 minutes on a full stomach. And don't want to eat a big meal too late.
Last night was a perfect example of this. Jed went to soccer and I wanted something simple. My mission was to basically only eat New Roots vegetables. Not a problem.
I had 3 potatoes and some leeks from my sister-in-law. (Yep, it came with the eggplant!) I lightly peeled (I like a little skin left in) the potatoes and boiled them in water.
I sliced the leeks, focusing on keeping the whiter parts.
Then I sautéed them with some butter in a skillet.
I mashed them with some sour cream.
They went nicely with the steamed rainbow chard, sea salt and fresh ground pepper.
Simple. Filling. Nothing fancy, but a very satisfying little meal.
The challenge is that we lead fairly busy schedules. I find solace in cooking, but I get off work a little later than many. And one of us has soccer 3 nights a week. Which typically means smaller, lighter dinners. Don't want to run around for 90 minutes on a full stomach. And don't want to eat a big meal too late.
Last night was a perfect example of this. Jed went to soccer and I wanted something simple. My mission was to basically only eat New Roots vegetables. Not a problem.
I had 3 potatoes and some leeks from my sister-in-law. (Yep, it came with the eggplant!) I lightly peeled (I like a little skin left in) the potatoes and boiled them in water.
I sliced the leeks, focusing on keeping the whiter parts.
Then I sautéed them with some butter in a skillet.
I mashed them with some sour cream.
They went nicely with the steamed rainbow chard, sea salt and fresh ground pepper.
Simple. Filling. Nothing fancy, but a very satisfying little meal.
I am...
excited to:
refinance my loan.
attend counter uncorked.
attend a ULI bfast.
play soccer.
attend a few political forums.
attend the seattle chamber lunch.
take rosy to the woodland park zoo.
see baby snow leopards at the zoo.
pick up freshly laminated art.
receive a couple impsandmonsters prints in the mail.
boat around lake union while learning fun historical facts.
participate in the Bridge Talks Back.
celebrate our new website launch.
attend a WCV breakfast.
spend a weekend in leavenworth.
go to thailand.
refinance my loan.
attend counter uncorked.
attend a ULI bfast.
play soccer.
attend a few political forums.
attend the seattle chamber lunch.
take rosy to the woodland park zoo.
see baby snow leopards at the zoo.
pick up freshly laminated art.
receive a couple impsandmonsters prints in the mail.
boat around lake union while learning fun historical facts.
participate in the Bridge Talks Back.
celebrate our new website launch.
attend a WCV breakfast.
spend a weekend in leavenworth.
go to thailand.
Baba Ghanoush
We had my brother and sister-in-law over for dinner a couple weeks ago. We had eggplant in our New Roots box that week, so we made a simple dish: sliced eggplant, broiled, with tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese. Over risotto. And we had a side of steamed spinach. Lisanna brought over a leek and an eggplant.
And then I got another eggplant in the next New Roots delivery.
Time to make Baba Ghanoush!
If you know me well, you know I don't really like to follow recipes (or directions.) I think of recipes as inspiration, not a set of rules.
I roasted the two eggplants in the oven for about 20 minutes at 450 degrees.
You know they're done when they come our all wrinkly. Like a big, purple Sharpei.
I probably could have left them in the oven a tad longer (but dinner was ready and I didn't want to be a slave to the oven while I ate.)
I split the eggplant in half and scooped out the fleshy innards of it. Meanwhile, I juiced two lemons and mixed in a clove of minced garlic, a teaspoon of sea salt and a couple big spoonfuls of tahini. I also added a little chipotle chile powder. I may add more to taste.
Put it all in the food processor. (I like black Kitchenaid, what can I say?)
The finished product is a light brown color, smooth and tastes awesome on pita chips!
And then I got another eggplant in the next New Roots delivery.
Time to make Baba Ghanoush!
If you know me well, you know I don't really like to follow recipes (or directions.) I think of recipes as inspiration, not a set of rules.
I roasted the two eggplants in the oven for about 20 minutes at 450 degrees.
You know they're done when they come our all wrinkly. Like a big, purple Sharpei.
I probably could have left them in the oven a tad longer (but dinner was ready and I didn't want to be a slave to the oven while I ate.)
I split the eggplant in half and scooped out the fleshy innards of it. Meanwhile, I juiced two lemons and mixed in a clove of minced garlic, a teaspoon of sea salt and a couple big spoonfuls of tahini. I also added a little chipotle chile powder. I may add more to taste.
Put it all in the food processor. (I like black Kitchenaid, what can I say?)
The finished product is a light brown color, smooth and tastes awesome on pita chips!
A continuation of writing
Last night I gathered with lovely ladies to imbibe lovely beverages and eat amazing food and discuss a book I hadn't read.
Yes, I was totally that girl who went to book club and never even got my hands on the book. But the amazing Lorna hosted. Everything she described in the evite sounded (and was indeed) divine.
I've come to realize just how much I love pork belly. So. Good.
It was a room of people who embrace social media. Twitter this. Facebook that. Oh, and blogging.
I haven't been blogging much lately.
Why? So many reasons. And I vow, at this very moment, not to make this post your typical, "I never write and I need to write, so now I'm gonna write more," post. Because even when I've been blogging a whole heckuva lot, I still am inconsistent. Sometimes I'm inspired to write multiple posts a day. Sometimes I'm just not feeling it, or don't have time for days on end.
I started this specific blog when I moved closer to downtown. And I L.O.V.E. living where I live. I'm actually very content with my life in general these days. Work is going really well. Love life is dandy. Social life is fluttering along. I don't feel like a total newbie on the soccer field. I ran (mostly) my first 10K in August. I'm planning a trip to Thailand in November. I have the coolest Little Sister ever. Sounders won the US Open Cup and are still contenders for MLS playoffs. Life is good.
I think I've (yet again) tried to pigeonhole my writing and find a purpose. Let's face it. I'm not one of those bloggers. I'm not going to try a new recipe every day. I love food, but am not a food blogger. I love films, but I'm not a film blogger. I love Seattle and SLU, but this isn't about what's happening in those areas either. Go to Seattlest, Daily Candy, etc for that. I'm not looking to replicate.
I'm looking to write.
And, in a perfect world, avoid coming across as completely narcissistic.
I'm also playing around a lot more with photography. There's a deep satisfaction I get when I capture something the way I was hoping to. When my vision and reality synchronize. So look forward to more visuals.
Anyway, since this is just me waxing poetic about waxing poetic, I'll stop for now. Next on the agenda is to... write. More.
Yes, I was totally that girl who went to book club and never even got my hands on the book. But the amazing Lorna hosted. Everything she described in the evite sounded (and was indeed) divine.
I've come to realize just how much I love pork belly. So. Good.
It was a room of people who embrace social media. Twitter this. Facebook that. Oh, and blogging.
I haven't been blogging much lately.
Why? So many reasons. And I vow, at this very moment, not to make this post your typical, "I never write and I need to write, so now I'm gonna write more," post. Because even when I've been blogging a whole heckuva lot, I still am inconsistent. Sometimes I'm inspired to write multiple posts a day. Sometimes I'm just not feeling it, or don't have time for days on end.
I started this specific blog when I moved closer to downtown. And I L.O.V.E. living where I live. I'm actually very content with my life in general these days. Work is going really well. Love life is dandy. Social life is fluttering along. I don't feel like a total newbie on the soccer field. I ran (mostly) my first 10K in August. I'm planning a trip to Thailand in November. I have the coolest Little Sister ever. Sounders won the US Open Cup and are still contenders for MLS playoffs. Life is good.
I think I've (yet again) tried to pigeonhole my writing and find a purpose. Let's face it. I'm not one of those bloggers. I'm not going to try a new recipe every day. I love food, but am not a food blogger. I love films, but I'm not a film blogger. I love Seattle and SLU, but this isn't about what's happening in those areas either. Go to Seattlest, Daily Candy, etc for that. I'm not looking to replicate.
I'm looking to write.
And, in a perfect world, avoid coming across as completely narcissistic.
I'm also playing around a lot more with photography. There's a deep satisfaction I get when I capture something the way I was hoping to. When my vision and reality synchronize. So look forward to more visuals.
Anyway, since this is just me waxing poetic about waxing poetic, I'll stop for now. Next on the agenda is to... write. More.
on conversation
Few things in this world excite me as much as good conversation. Cafe culture. People gathering and discussing ideas. To me, this is the true essence of public life. It's the reason to go to a pub. It's the reason to invite friends out. It's the reason to live outside of ourselves.
I could eavesdrop on a good conversation and be entertained for hours.
But it surprises me how often our culture doesn't foster good conversation. So often it's dominated by celebrity gossip. TV show recaps. Talking about other people. Shouting over loud music. Another observation about the weather. Activities that require us to be the audience, or the moving body, but not the conversationalist.
I am, therefore, always impressed and inspired by people and spaces that foster conversation.
I could eavesdrop on a good conversation and be entertained for hours.
But it surprises me how often our culture doesn't foster good conversation. So often it's dominated by celebrity gossip. TV show recaps. Talking about other people. Shouting over loud music. Another observation about the weather. Activities that require us to be the audience, or the moving body, but not the conversationalist.
I am, therefore, always impressed and inspired by people and spaces that foster conversation.
Chemicals in the air.
The sun is blinding me as the cold forces my fists deep into my lined pockets. I'm walking into her, as she sets softly behind the Tall White Arches of the science center and eventually the Olympic Mountains will envelop her. The fleeting warmth of sun fading into the clear late winter night. 1962 World's Fair relics frame her golden laser beams.
I squint, my Brow Furled. Deepening the lines between my eyes. Why can't my "laugh lines" be the first to form? These are lines of concentration. Concern.
As I dip under the freeway, on that long stretch of sidewalk on The Mess between Dexter and 5th, I smell something in the air.
I expect to smell bodily fluids escaped from last nights exploits. The drunken smell of Bourbon Street the morning after. Of alleys in Pioneer Square. Toxic and rising.
I expect to smell car exhaust, as vehicles are trapped en route. As drivers brake and go and brake and go. Feet hovering over the gas pedal. Gears shifting. Lights metering the traffic through.
Then I realize what it is. I'm walking along a wall of gray paint over gray concrete. It has been painted out. Layers of stories, erased, covered, gone. Clean. Yet, toxic. Volatile organic compounds looming under the highway. Along the mess.
Quieting as she sets. The underpass further darkens. All that's left is that scent. The scent of chemicals in the air.
I squint, my Brow Furled. Deepening the lines between my eyes. Why can't my "laugh lines" be the first to form? These are lines of concentration. Concern.
As I dip under the freeway, on that long stretch of sidewalk on The Mess between Dexter and 5th, I smell something in the air.
I expect to smell bodily fluids escaped from last nights exploits. The drunken smell of Bourbon Street the morning after. Of alleys in Pioneer Square. Toxic and rising.
I expect to smell car exhaust, as vehicles are trapped en route. As drivers brake and go and brake and go. Feet hovering over the gas pedal. Gears shifting. Lights metering the traffic through.
Then I realize what it is. I'm walking along a wall of gray paint over gray concrete. It has been painted out. Layers of stories, erased, covered, gone. Clean. Yet, toxic. Volatile organic compounds looming under the highway. Along the mess.
Quieting as she sets. The underpass further darkens. All that's left is that scent. The scent of chemicals in the air.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)