Fall is in the air, which means a few things: bundling up in warm layers, building crackling fires in the wood stove, preparing slow cooked meals from a hearty summer harvest, mixing up spiced beverages of the boozy variety, and watching the colors change as people return from their summer vacations. But, this year it means something else for me: this year fall is the beginning of my spiritual renaissance.
It's hard sometimes to remember to slow down amidst work, friends, family, appointments, errands, and they day-in and day-out chores that can leave us all feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. Prioritizing life becomes difficult when you feel the weight of all these things bearing down on you, and making time to nurture and care for your own self is often lost under all these layers.
Even the most conscious minded individuals, the ones who make an intentional effort to cultivate their spirits, can forget - and I'm just as guilty as anyone else. But this year something is different. Maybe I'm settling into adulthood, or maybe I've just grown tired of succumbing to standards less than what I've intended for myself. When I think back on my childhood and the imaginative, creative-minded little girl that I was, I cringe to think that somehow I've buried and forgotten her in some abyss below all the peripheral things in my life. Not only did realizing that I was absentmindedly losing myself startle and scare me, but it made me feel sad, lonely even.
So I changed a few things. This summer for instance, I decided to take a few risks, and the result was, well, shocking. Surprising yourself can be both scary and invigorating. It can be tiring and evoke feelings of hopelessness at times, too. But the alternative to this is a life built on regret, which is really the most frightening feeling I think a person can have. People always say when you look back on your life, you won't regret the things that you did, you'll regret the things that you didn't do. I won't say this is a phrase I would live by, but it certainly does ring some truth.
Sometimes the lives we want for ourselves cannot be achieved by simply jumping at opportunities. More than often we have to set ourselves up for those opportunities to even present themselves, and that can be a lot of hard, and even stressful work. But the gratifying thing about this struggle is that at the end of the day, you can smile and relish in your handmade success. And, just for clarification, success is different for everyone. Sure, there's the stereotypical version of success that they teach you in school, but as far as I'm concerned, that version of success has exhausted itself as boring and mundane. Get a good job, buy a nice house, etc. To me success is living each day well and knowing that my conscious, physical life was spent brimming with a fierce and fiery richness. And the best thing? When you approach your life with this kind of perspective, whatever goals you set for yourself may be achieved, but there is no end in sight - it's just one beautiful thing flourishing into the next, on this long and enchanting journey.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
Growing Pains
Several weeks ago (minus my Hawaiian hiatus) I would not have imagined falling off the wagon with my blog. I mean, the very purpose in birthing Wild Gift was to create a public platform that would encourage me to write often. Well, it certainly did something, because all I do now is write. I write articles, I write correspondence, I write cover letters, all day long I write these things. I build my portfolio, I network, I schmooze, I essentially whore myself out to whoever will take... um, hire me, publish me or at the very least give me the time of day.
And really, it all started with this blog.
A few months ago I decided that what I had spent one year of my life working towards was nothing more than a backseat copout. Yes, I would enjoy being a teacher. The work is rewarding, the benefits are good, and the pay is decent. But if I had gone forward with my seemingly failsafe plan, I know it would be my first, and hopefully only, regret. Not because I wouldn't enjoy it, but because I was denying myself the opportunity to explore something bigger, something I have wanted for as long as I can remember.
So I took a chance. I took a chance on that little girl who would scribble notes on any corner of paper she could find and sneak them into pockets and envelopes. I took a chance on the child that dreamt up movies and books and wrote them all down, as silly as they seemed. I took a chance on the angsty teenager who wrote prose when she should have been writing math equations. I took a chance on the girl who all throughout college was happiest when she was writing, no matter what it was. I took a chance on myself, to live up to, not the potential the world imagined for me, but the potential that I imagined for myself.
Most people spend their whole lives jumping through other people's hoops. It starts when you're young, in school. You have to get good grades in high school, so you can go to a good college, so you can get a good degree, so you can get a good job, so you can buy a nice house, and have lots of nice things, and marry someone who did exactly the same thing, and raise your children to go through the exact same numbing process. Even people who say they reject that way of thinking or that lifestyle are still victims of it. I know I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have devised my failsafe plan and cast aside the one thing that I was genuinely enthusiastic about doing for a career.
It's not popular, and it's not easy, but it's worth it.
I have to thank my mother though. If it wasn't for her I'd probably be in some cubicle with runs in my panty hose and grey hairs bursting from my scalp, making wads of cash (or just scraping by) and crying myself to sleep each night or maybe I'd be too desensitized to cry about it, and would just complacently pass through each day. It doesn't really matter if you get the glamorous end of the stick or not in a scenario like that, because either way you've sold your soul in some form or another, and trying to hold on to your bearings in an environment that tries so devilishly to rape you of your own sense of self wears on even the strongest minded individuals. But my whole life, my mother has always reminded me to stay afloat. I could be sinking, deep and fast, and right when I'm about to slip, there she is to remind me.
I can only imagine how difficult being a parent is. But I don't even know where to begin comprehending how difficult being that good of a parent is.
So I've thanked my blog (which is really a modest way of thanking myself, but really, I'm totally patting myself on the back right now because this was definitely one of the harder things I've committed to in my life, and I've still got a long way to go, so I'm going to need all those back-pats,) and I've thanked my mom, but I also have to thank my husband, Aaron.
Every day when he comes home, he asks me how my writing went, and continues to encourage me to push forward and make those contacts and write articles and apply for internships and jobs. Having that everyday, positive encouragement makes it so much easier to do something as intimidating as this, and to be completely honest, it was Aaron who suggested that I start a blog!
Anyway, I've gone on far too long. But the point is, it's easy to let other people decide what's best for you, or what you "should" be doing, or to fall into one of the infinity number of molds just waiting for you to fall into. But, like most things, it just doesn't count when it's easy.
Right now, today, I'm celebrating being scared, stressed and nervous, but in the good kind of way - like when you're about to go on roller coaster. It's exhilarating, and I'm genuinely happy and excited for each minute of my day, every day. The best part? If by this time next year I decide that it's not going to work out, I can always go back to boring Plan A... but I won't let that happen.
xo.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
A Sailing Tour of the San Juan Islands
Apologies for my recent hiatus. Evidently, blogging bodes itself much more difficult when the extent of your computer and internet access is limited to a less than weak signal being received from a now outdated iPhone 4.
Over an extended four day weekend, I participated in a sailing* trip through the San Juan Islands. Aaron, Mike, Catherine and I set out Thursday morning, from Port Townsend, Washington, for what suggested to be the start of a frightening journey.
Thursday greeted us with gray clouds, rain, and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife. We were soaked and chilled to the bone before we even pulled anchor. With no wind to sail, we turned on the engine and began motoring, with no more than 20 feet visibility. Needless to say, my over-cautious self was verging on the cusp of a nervous breakdown, and Catherine's susceptibility to sea sickness was in full fledge. Most of this anxiety erupted when we entered the shipping lanes, with no way to tell if we were flying solo or seconds from colliding with a container ship. We made it through the shipping lane alive and well, where shortly after the fog began to clear, and my clenched fists slowly loosened.
Still no wind to catch in our sails, we continued motoring until we made it to Lopez Island. The grey sky seeped blue, and the sun's glow warmed the horizon line as we pulled into Fisherman's Bay. After dropping anchor and suiting up with backpacks and sleeping bags, we rowed to shore to find a place to camp. Unfortunately, high season in the San Juan Islands does not lend itself to travelers with small pocketbooks. We found campgrounds (if you can call them that - a large patch of grass neighboring a parking lot is not exactly my idea of camping) that cost $25 per couple. Outrageous! Irritated, tired, and cold, we set up camp in the dusk, and went to bed.
The morning greeted us with overcast skies, but no rain. To this we rejoiced, packed up and were on our way (only after stopping at a delightful bakery where we filled up on flaky, savory pastries.)
With no wind (again), we continued our sailing* trip, headed for Deer Harbor and Orcas Island. As we approached the harbor, the clouds began to break, and the bright sun warmed our chilled skin as we pulled up to the dock. Excited to use the facilities, we eagerly jumped off the boat and relieved ourselves. We set out on foot to explore the island, and enjoyed the picturesque nature that Orcas housed. As late morning turned into mid-afternoon, and plans of sailing* to San Juan Island before sundown were still included in our itinerary, we said our goodbyes to the beautiful island and ventured out once more.
Ready for this? There was wind. Actual, real wind. And to sweeten the pot? Sun! Warm, hot sunshine, mixed with cool, soft winds, strong enough to sail to, and gentle enough to bask in. To celebrate, we uncorked a bottle of wine, stripped down to shorts and tank tops, and made our way to San Juan Island, and Aaron's uncle's property on Roche Harbor.
We pulled up to the dock, tipsy and warm, and set up camp. Once set up, we walked into town where we filled our bellies with warm, savory food, ice cream, and played a bocce ball in a community courtyard. The evening brought us cool, sea-kissed air, a roaring fire, and good conversation. In the morning we would be visiting Sucia and Cypress Island.
The wind and sun were gone come morning, but the air was fairly warm as we motored our way to Sucia Island, a small island in the San Juan's that was home to no one, except the wildlife that dwelled in this enchanting park, and the campers who visited it. After touring a bit of the island and making our way back to the boat, the clouds parted, revealing a hot, late summer sun. Aaron, Mike and Catherine all jumped in the icy water to refresh their skin, but I, tending not to be the best at enduring the cold, stayed on board, living vicariously through them.
Everyone dried off, and we pulled anchor yet again, this time headed to our last campsite: Cypress Island.
On our journey to Cypress, we saw harbor porpoises and various sea birds, all illuminated by the shimmering water. The last leg of our journey greeted us with strong winds, and we sailed our way into Cypress. Cypress consists almost entirely of DNR land, except for a small strip of houses on the island's edge. Before rowing to shore, we made a dinner that consisted of whatever hodge-podge of hot food we had left on the boat. After warming and filling up, we grabbed our camping gear and headed for shore. The most beautiful of the islands, Cypress is secluded and nearly untouched.
Despite our stale exhaustion, we built a fire, filled up on beers, and chatted late into the night, before retiring to our tents. We would be leaving bright and early for our return to Port Townsend.
The sun gleamed gently in the morning, growing stronger with each passing hour. There was no lack of wind on our journey home, and we sailed almost the entire way. We made it passed the San Juans, through the shipping lanes, and in just a few, short hours, we were pulling up to Port Townsend.
Tired, weathered, hungry, and dirty, we were excited to be on land. What began as a frightening, stormy trip, turned into a great adventure, but never had the thought of my warm, soft bed been so inviting.
*most of the trip was spent motoring, but we were in a sailboat, so we'll just call it sailing anyway, right?
xo.
Over an extended four day weekend, I participated in a sailing* trip through the San Juan Islands. Aaron, Mike, Catherine and I set out Thursday morning, from Port Townsend, Washington, for what suggested to be the start of a frightening journey.
Thursday greeted us with gray clouds, rain, and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife. We were soaked and chilled to the bone before we even pulled anchor. With no wind to sail, we turned on the engine and began motoring, with no more than 20 feet visibility. Needless to say, my over-cautious self was verging on the cusp of a nervous breakdown, and Catherine's susceptibility to sea sickness was in full fledge. Most of this anxiety erupted when we entered the shipping lanes, with no way to tell if we were flying solo or seconds from colliding with a container ship. We made it through the shipping lane alive and well, where shortly after the fog began to clear, and my clenched fists slowly loosened.
Still no wind to catch in our sails, we continued motoring until we made it to Lopez Island. The grey sky seeped blue, and the sun's glow warmed the horizon line as we pulled into Fisherman's Bay. After dropping anchor and suiting up with backpacks and sleeping bags, we rowed to shore to find a place to camp. Unfortunately, high season in the San Juan Islands does not lend itself to travelers with small pocketbooks. We found campgrounds (if you can call them that - a large patch of grass neighboring a parking lot is not exactly my idea of camping) that cost $25 per couple. Outrageous! Irritated, tired, and cold, we set up camp in the dusk, and went to bed.
The morning greeted us with overcast skies, but no rain. To this we rejoiced, packed up and were on our way (only after stopping at a delightful bakery where we filled up on flaky, savory pastries.)
With no wind (again), we continued our sailing* trip, headed for Deer Harbor and Orcas Island. As we approached the harbor, the clouds began to break, and the bright sun warmed our chilled skin as we pulled up to the dock. Excited to use the facilities, we eagerly jumped off the boat and relieved ourselves. We set out on foot to explore the island, and enjoyed the picturesque nature that Orcas housed. As late morning turned into mid-afternoon, and plans of sailing* to San Juan Island before sundown were still included in our itinerary, we said our goodbyes to the beautiful island and ventured out once more.
Ready for this? There was wind. Actual, real wind. And to sweeten the pot? Sun! Warm, hot sunshine, mixed with cool, soft winds, strong enough to sail to, and gentle enough to bask in. To celebrate, we uncorked a bottle of wine, stripped down to shorts and tank tops, and made our way to San Juan Island, and Aaron's uncle's property on Roche Harbor.
We pulled up to the dock, tipsy and warm, and set up camp. Once set up, we walked into town where we filled our bellies with warm, savory food, ice cream, and played a bocce ball in a community courtyard. The evening brought us cool, sea-kissed air, a roaring fire, and good conversation. In the morning we would be visiting Sucia and Cypress Island.
The wind and sun were gone come morning, but the air was fairly warm as we motored our way to Sucia Island, a small island in the San Juan's that was home to no one, except the wildlife that dwelled in this enchanting park, and the campers who visited it. After touring a bit of the island and making our way back to the boat, the clouds parted, revealing a hot, late summer sun. Aaron, Mike and Catherine all jumped in the icy water to refresh their skin, but I, tending not to be the best at enduring the cold, stayed on board, living vicariously through them.
Everyone dried off, and we pulled anchor yet again, this time headed to our last campsite: Cypress Island.
On our journey to Cypress, we saw harbor porpoises and various sea birds, all illuminated by the shimmering water. The last leg of our journey greeted us with strong winds, and we sailed our way into Cypress. Cypress consists almost entirely of DNR land, except for a small strip of houses on the island's edge. Before rowing to shore, we made a dinner that consisted of whatever hodge-podge of hot food we had left on the boat. After warming and filling up, we grabbed our camping gear and headed for shore. The most beautiful of the islands, Cypress is secluded and nearly untouched.
Despite our stale exhaustion, we built a fire, filled up on beers, and chatted late into the night, before retiring to our tents. We would be leaving bright and early for our return to Port Townsend.
The sun gleamed gently in the morning, growing stronger with each passing hour. There was no lack of wind on our journey home, and we sailed almost the entire way. We made it passed the San Juans, through the shipping lanes, and in just a few, short hours, we were pulling up to Port Townsend.
Tired, weathered, hungry, and dirty, we were excited to be on land. What began as a frightening, stormy trip, turned into a great adventure, but never had the thought of my warm, soft bed been so inviting.
*most of the trip was spent motoring, but we were in a sailboat, so we'll just call it sailing anyway, right?
xo.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
My Summer Cottage: Adventures in Gardening and Eating Healthy
Though our vegetable garden is small, it certainly is abundant. Two small beds share a harvest of kale and carrots, while a neighboring planter houses four, ripening tomato plants. We also have a few, thick rows of basil, some mint, and one chive plant.
Carrots and kale from the garden
While it's a bit early in the season to be reaping the benefits of all of our crops, the mint, basil, chives, and even the kale, have proven themselves as delicious and ready for our bellies. My most recent recipe adventure was a Martha Stewart patented kale slaw, which I took the liberty of altering into what is sure to be a new household favorite. My recommendations for this recipe are to omit the sunflower, pumpkin, and hemp seeds, and add julienned beets and diced avocado. If you want to sweeten the salad, try adding apples, pears, or even peaches! By the time I made my second batch of this mouth-watering slaw, I had ran out of the apple-cider vinegar needed for the dressing, and substituted a tablespoon of Trader Joe's Sesame Ginger Salad Dressing. I loved the subtle, spicy fragrance that the ginger added, and would even consider adding fresh ginger next time.
Exploring new recipes is always a treat, but the payoff is much greater when you get to watch your ingredients growing in your own backyard. I'm excited to harvest the tomatoes to be used in conjunction with the basil for caprese salads, homemade pizzas, and rustic tomato-basil bisque.
For other fresh, summer recipe ideas using seasonal fruits and veggies, visit Martha Stewart's Seasonal Produce Guide.
xo.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
A Tour of Heritage Distilling Company
Located in Gig Harbor, Washington, resides the charming, young distillery, Heritage Distilling Company. I recently attended a tour of this distillery and was awestruck by the beautiful abundance of casks that lined the distillery's walls, the deep and bitter aroma that wafted from the wheat, corn, and rye, and the grand, copper-plated, Italian made still that served as the centerpiece for this impressive establishment.
Granted, the closest thing to a distillery "tour" I had ever previously attended consisted of peeking at sketchy, moonshine kits that friends had rigged-up in their basements. Needless to say, this was nothing like that.
The staff at Heritage Distilling Company was welcoming, knowledgeable and friendly. Before beginning the tour, I was given a bit of history on the distillery, and informed about some of the great programs the distillery offers, such as the Cask Club and My Batch, where you get to distill and name your own, signature batch of spirits. Next I was taken on a tour of the distillery's magnificent machinery and the process and mechanics used to still the various spirits.
After the tour I was directed back towards the storefront where I was invited for a complimentary tasting. Because Heritage Distilling Company is still so new, they have not yet released any large batches of their aged spirits (but expect to find an aged bourbon coming soon.)
I had the liberty of tasting the HDC Vodka, HDC Soft Gin, an un-aged Commander's Rye Whiskey, and the Fall Classic Apple Cider Flavored Whiskey. The Commander's Rye is perhaps an acquired taste that I evidently have not yet developed, but the other three were outstanding. I particularly liked the HDC Soft Gin, with its full-flavored spiciness, and satiny smooth finish.
Supporting and promoting local establishments is something that I always take pride in doing, as it strengthens the community in which I live and love. Heritage Distilling Company makes this easy to do by offering a product that is authentic and enjoyable.
While I highly encourage visiting the distillery for yourself, if you are unable to make it in for a tour, you can still purchase Heritage Distilling Company's unique spirits at one of their many vendors, including Harbor Greens and Trader Joe's. For a list of all vendors, information regarding the Cask Club and My Batch Programs, or to schedule a tour, visit their website at http://www.heritagedistilling.com
Granted, the closest thing to a distillery "tour" I had ever previously attended consisted of peeking at sketchy, moonshine kits that friends had rigged-up in their basements. Needless to say, this was nothing like that.
The staff at Heritage Distilling Company was welcoming, knowledgeable and friendly. Before beginning the tour, I was given a bit of history on the distillery, and informed about some of the great programs the distillery offers, such as the Cask Club and My Batch, where you get to distill and name your own, signature batch of spirits. Next I was taken on a tour of the distillery's magnificent machinery and the process and mechanics used to still the various spirits.
After the tour I was directed back towards the storefront where I was invited for a complimentary tasting. Because Heritage Distilling Company is still so new, they have not yet released any large batches of their aged spirits (but expect to find an aged bourbon coming soon.)
I had the liberty of tasting the HDC Vodka, HDC Soft Gin, an un-aged Commander's Rye Whiskey, and the Fall Classic Apple Cider Flavored Whiskey. The Commander's Rye is perhaps an acquired taste that I evidently have not yet developed, but the other three were outstanding. I particularly liked the HDC Soft Gin, with its full-flavored spiciness, and satiny smooth finish.
Supporting and promoting local establishments is something that I always take pride in doing, as it strengthens the community in which I live and love. Heritage Distilling Company makes this easy to do by offering a product that is authentic and enjoyable.
While I highly encourage visiting the distillery for yourself, if you are unable to make it in for a tour, you can still purchase Heritage Distilling Company's unique spirits at one of their many vendors, including Harbor Greens and Trader Joe's. For a list of all vendors, information regarding the Cask Club and My Batch Programs, or to schedule a tour, visit their website at http://www.heritagedistilling.com
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Narrows Brewing Company Launches Wholesale and Retail Distribution
On Wednesday, July 31, 2013, Narrows Brewing launched their wholesale and retail distribution by delivering their first keg, a cask of Imperial Red Ale, to neighboring restaurant, Boathouse 19. This event was celebrated by the Narrows Brewing Company as a landmark achievement, commencing the expansion of their market.
Narrows Brewing part-owner Scott Wagner notes this event as being a “milestone” and is pleased to announce that, “the brewery is now fully ready to self-deliver one-half barrel and one-sixth barrel kegs for wholesale distribution.” Kegs are also available at the Taproom for retail sales.
Excited to see Narrows Brewing's craft beers featured in popular restaurants and bars across the South Sound, Wagner encourages establishments and individuals interested in purchasing kegs to contact the brewery directly. Distribution information, including pricing, will soon be available on the brewery's website.
Head Brewer Joe Walts with Narrows Brewing's new keg washer
Since their grand opening on July 12, 2013, Narrows Brewing Company has not only started kegging for wholesale and retail distribution, but has also introduced three new brews. In addition to the IPA, Pale Ale, and Golden Ale featured at their opening, you may now enjoy their Belgian Blond, Stout, and Imperial Red Ale. Next on tap? Head brewer Joe Walts has a Rye Bitter in the works that will be available soon.
Want to try Narrows Brewing without purchasing a keg? Not a problem. Narrows Brewing Company's six delectable brews can be found at the Narrows Brewing Tap Room, located at the historic and scenic Narrows Marina.
Outfitted with a repurposed, antique church pew and blown-up photographs representing Tacoma’s rugged, maritime history, Narrows Brewing’s Tap Room also features a 55-foot bar made from salvaged wood originally used as part of the Day Island Trestle Bridge. Narrows Brewing is not just a contemporary fixture to Washington’s growing collection of craft breweries, but a tangible testament to the importance of celebrating and preserving the past.
Whether you come by land or by sea, Narrows Brewing invites you to enjoy the picturesque South Puget Sound while sipping on one of their six featured craft beers.
For distribution information or to place a keg order, please contact Mary at (253) 327-1400. Brewery tours are now offered every Tuesday at 7:00 pm. For more information and upcoming events, visit www.narrowsbrewing.com or www.facebook.com/NarrowsBrewing.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
A Visit to Port Townsend, WA.
Located on the northeastern tip of the Olympic Peninsula resides the charming town of Port Townsend. A small, tight-knit community of sailors and artists, Port Townsend has taken care to preserve its cultural history, as evident by the still-standing, antique architecture that adorns the town.
While in Port Townsend you may enjoy the dining and shopping on historic Water Street, touring the local Farmers Market, attending Shakespeare in the Park, or visiting one of Port Townend's beaches or parks, including historic Fort Warden.
My favorite destinations while in Port Townsend? Sirens pub for delicious grub and tasty beverages, watching the boats sail by at the Port Townsend pier, and historic Fort Warden State Park and the Point Wilson Lighthouse, located at Discovery Bay.
Aaron and I had the luxury of spending the past several days in this beguiling little hamlet, visiting good friends. We arrived empty-bellied and exhausted late Friday evening, sharing stories over good food and beer at Sirens pub. After resting up for the coming day, we set out on our first sailing excursion of the season, on the Kittywake, a 27 foot Cal Jensen sailboat that my husband had purchased the previous summer with two of our friends.
Though the sun was in full-fledge that day, the chilling sea breeze encouraged the eruption of goose bumps and shivers as we sailed around the bay. Excited to be on the water again, catching the wind in our sails, we anxiously began planning an upcoming trip to the San Juan Islands, which I am eagerly anticipating.
A trip to Port Townsend is never complete without the drinking of wine late into the evening over a rivalrous game of Settler of Catan. All friendships are off once the gameplay begins, as opponents deceitfully attempt to attain victory. Per usual, I was less than triumphant in my efforts, but held my ground with a solid forth (out of six) place.
The following day was spent indulging in mouth-watering breakfast foods at a favorite greasy spoon, The Courtyard Cafe. As a side note, while most of their menu items are better than good, I highly discourage ordering the Beer Cheddar soup, unless you want to choke down spoonfuls of what is reminiscent of melted Velveeta cheese (yuck!)
With full bellies and an abundant amount of sunshine, we headed for the pier to watch the boats and dip our toes in the cool water. Just past the pier you will find a sandy beach, perfect for soaking up rays.
As the coming work week was upon us and we still had an hour and a half drive ahead, we grabbed our things and said our goodbyes, with lighter hearts than usual, knowing that in just two short weeks we would be back. This time, to set sail (literally) on our voyage to the San Juan Islands.
xo.
While in Port Townsend you may enjoy the dining and shopping on historic Water Street, touring the local Farmers Market, attending Shakespeare in the Park, or visiting one of Port Townend's beaches or parks, including historic Fort Warden.
My favorite destinations while in Port Townsend? Sirens pub for delicious grub and tasty beverages, watching the boats sail by at the Port Townsend pier, and historic Fort Warden State Park and the Point Wilson Lighthouse, located at Discovery Bay.
Aaron and I had the luxury of spending the past several days in this beguiling little hamlet, visiting good friends. We arrived empty-bellied and exhausted late Friday evening, sharing stories over good food and beer at Sirens pub. After resting up for the coming day, we set out on our first sailing excursion of the season, on the Kittywake, a 27 foot Cal Jensen sailboat that my husband had purchased the previous summer with two of our friends.
Though the sun was in full-fledge that day, the chilling sea breeze encouraged the eruption of goose bumps and shivers as we sailed around the bay. Excited to be on the water again, catching the wind in our sails, we anxiously began planning an upcoming trip to the San Juan Islands, which I am eagerly anticipating.
A trip to Port Townsend is never complete without the drinking of wine late into the evening over a rivalrous game of Settler of Catan. All friendships are off once the gameplay begins, as opponents deceitfully attempt to attain victory. Per usual, I was less than triumphant in my efforts, but held my ground with a solid forth (out of six) place.
The following day was spent indulging in mouth-watering breakfast foods at a favorite greasy spoon, The Courtyard Cafe. As a side note, while most of their menu items are better than good, I highly discourage ordering the Beer Cheddar soup, unless you want to choke down spoonfuls of what is reminiscent of melted Velveeta cheese (yuck!)
With full bellies and an abundant amount of sunshine, we headed for the pier to watch the boats and dip our toes in the cool water. Just past the pier you will find a sandy beach, perfect for soaking up rays.
As the coming work week was upon us and we still had an hour and a half drive ahead, we grabbed our things and said our goodbyes, with lighter hearts than usual, knowing that in just two short weeks we would be back. This time, to set sail (literally) on our voyage to the San Juan Islands.
xo.
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