Into the City

I finally made it into the city the other day. I hitched a ride with my brother-in-law who insisted on driving to work in spite of the dire warnings on the A.M. news reporting treacherous driving conditions. So off I was for a snowy Seattle adventure. My first stop is a Pioneer Square Starbucks where I checked e-mail and up dated my OSU blog ‘Cowboy bites’.
This particular Starbucks is located on First Ave. right smack in the heart of the square. Across the street is the famous Pergola which photo decorates many a postcard showing off of this historical area of the city. The black decorative iron benches most often taken by the homeless now sat covered in pure white clean snow. Truly this is a sight I have never in my life seen. It looked like the winter wonderland of years past (many, many years past).

It was at this Starbucks that I became acutely aware I was indeed in the city. Upon finally receiving the key to the unisex bathroom (which was earlier called the men’s room but had to change names because the woman’s room was out of order) I realized at a most inconvenient moment that this restroom was not being properly maintained. At all! No not in the slightest. Not a scrap of toilet paper was to be found nor even a shred of paper towel. I had waited an awful long time and had already drank countless cups of coffee so going out and facing the baristas that were deep in customers to announce that I …. Yes I needed toilet paper, just seemed out of the question. Plus by time I realized what I was up against I was already mid stream, so fuck it! It would just have to drip dry this time Joe. I’ve done it plenty of times behind some patch of tall Jonson grass out in the field. Hasn’t everyone?

I sloshed down the sidewalk walking north on first toward my next stop Pike Place Market. Nothing has changed much about this amazing Seattle blessing. It’s still bustling with extraordinary life. It was made even more magical with the snow. I have such a history with this place. When I walk around the corner and see that famous red neon sign it’s like coming home. I first make my rounds to say hello to all the fish mongers I have met throughout what I refer to as “the restaurant years”. Standing at attention is Richard from Pure food Fish which is by far my favorite place to shop for crab. Richard doesn’t quite recognize me at first bundled up like I’m in the depths of the Alaskan outback. But soon enough were on tract and he’s cleaning my crab while we catch up with the last year.

My next stop is World Spice Market this is where I buy my stashes of Himalayan sea salt and Hawaiian sea salt that I like to introduce to people back home on the farm. Somehow this act assures me I still have some sort of sense of the gourmand in me. (Dusting my breakfast of farm fresh eggs and homemade goat cheese with freshly grated Himalayan sea salt, yup, I still got it!) Next is the fish bar for a halibut sandwich and then to the souk the small 12X24 shop that specializes in rare spices and ingredients for middle eastern cooking.

I take pictures just like a tourist even though every square inch of this place is ingrained in my memory and when I am in Oklahoma I can visit it in my mind any time I wish. But imagining doesn’t replace the sounds and the smells and the fantastic talent of the musicians that fill the public areas with joyful sounds. I stopped to listen to a bluegrass duo called The Tallboys.

http://www.thetallboys.com

Fantastic! I purchased both of their CDs.

The bus ride home was full and rich with colorful conversation, beer drinking (not by me) loud cell phone users and the person sitting next to me explaining expressively to a friend seated behind her that the reason she didn’t think she would get the job is because; girl, she had gotten her 14 felony charges……… I did what any one would do turned on my Ipod and pretend to be asleep.

I’ve got six more days here and as much as I miss the farm I am having a great time. Been really appreciating my family and being in my sister’s house even without her here with us, I still feel her very strongly. I am the designated cook for our Christmas Eve dinner. My brother-in-law strangely requested brisket. Apparently I made a convert out of him in Oklahoma.