Nevertheless, I still like things, and sometimes want to tell my friends about particularly good things. So, here’s a post with some semi-enthusiastic recommendations.

Please note that in conformance with recently released FTC rules on blogger endorsements and testimonials, I must disclose that none of the makers of the consumer goods discussed herein gave me a damned thing. They are certainly welcome to do so, however. Actual free samples would be fine, but I’d also be happy with embroidered ballcaps, t-shirts with logos, or other types of schwag.

Arkansas Blacks

I was visiting a New Seasons market, which as a rule have marvelous produce departments, and found a selection of heirloom apples. One of the prettiest of the apples was a variety called an “Arkansas Black”, with a coloration so dark and lustrous it’s easy to see how it got the name.

But better than the way they look is the way they taste. The flesh has a firm, crisp texture that is intensely sweet without being cloying, and just tart enough to match the sweetness. they have so much flavor it puts most commercially-grown apples to shame.

Cypress Grove Fromage Blanc

Also at New Seasons is one of my latest addictions: Fresh fromage blanc from Cypress Grove Chèvre. It’s unbelievably tasty, creamy and mild, with just a hint of the kind of tanginess found in more aggressive goat cheeses. It’s delicious on bread, on fresh pears, or drizzled with a little bit of honey. I’m hopelessly hooked on it.

Raven’s Brew Coffee

Since dabbling with cold-extract brewing, I’ve been trying coffee from various roasters. One of my favorites is Raven’s Brew Coffee. I love this coffee. I love the flavor, I love the artwork on the packages, I love the different blends, and I love the names of the different blends. Especially Dead Man’s Reach (strong enough to wake the dead) and Three-Peckered Billy Goat:

This is tasty stuff. Try some.

Have I mentioned that she’s almost as tall as I am now? And taller than her mother? Oy.

When I have not been pondering my daughter’s rapid ascent to maturity (and my own concomitant slide into senility), I’ve been worrying about NaNoWriMo.

As you probably know (or suspected), my own favorite genre is sci-fi, followed by fantasy. This should not be surprising. There’s a reason the stereotypical geek/nerd/man-boy is always shown on television LARPing his Elven Ranger, or wearing his homemade Mandalorian battle armor. So my first impulse is to write some Epic Space Opera, with FTL drives, hostile planets, and Machiavellian interstellar politics.

And with luck, three people might read it. For whatever reason, sci-fi fans tend to be prolific writers, and in the inevitable and predictable way of Gaussian distributions, most of what they write is utter crap. Even if I were to produce something readable, or even a shining gem of prose, it would never get anyone’s attention buried in that steaming pile of excrement.

On the other hand, I’ve always fancied myself a fairly humorous fellow. I think I can tell a joke well, and I love wordplay. Unfortunately, my sense of humor has rarely translated to the written page. My poems and short stories, even when intended to be a farce or satire, quickly turn grim. Most of what I write ends up in a place that’s very dark indeed, either through the raw emotions involved, or because someone ends up getting eaten by something horrible. Mind you, there’s a place for that kind of literature. It certainly worked out well for Stephen King.

But for this, my first attempt at anything longer than a short story, I thought I should definitely try for something lighter. It remains to be seen whether I will succeed. I’ve been rolling ideas around in my head for about a week now, and have a rough outline with some of the major characters at least initially sketched out. I have a title, and I even mocked up some cover art for my NaNoWriMo profile:

I was nervous, but optimistic about the whole thing.

Then I get an email today that includes “a guide to NaNoWriMo”. It features a timeline for the month of November, which includes such gems as:

As the first full week of writing comes to a close, you will be at 11,666 words. This is more fiction than most people write in their lifetimes, and you did it in a week.

Wait. What?

After the second week of writing, you will be at 25,000 words. This is the approximate length of such legendary works of fiction as The Metamorphosis, Of Mice and Men, and Twilight: The Complete Illustrated Movie Companion

Hey, I’m not trying to draft War and Peace here, just some little piece of fiction to prove to myself that I can. Suddenly 50,000 words is looking insurmountable. Now I’m not just worried about typing that many words, but I’m worried about coming up with enough story to justify that many words.

I guess we’ll see how it goes. T-minus 34 hours and counting.

On the advice of a friend, I picked up a copy of “On Writing” by Stephen King. This was one of the most useful books on the craft of writing I’ve ever read, and I heartily recommend it to anyone who even daydreams about putting words together.

Since the weather was beautiful, I idly said something about taking the dog to the beach. Of course the Girl jumped all over that, and I immediately panicked at having created an expectation I couldn’t fulfill. But after the Wife and I discussed it a bit, we decided it would do me, the Girl, and the dog a world of good to get out of town. So off we went.

So what does an Australian Shepherd do at the beach?

He chases the ball. He brings it back. He stands expectantly, waiting for you to throw it again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Eventually, he collapses into a gasping heap.

We found a strand of kelp washed ashore, and I started cutting it up to show the Girl the inside. Somehow we ended up carving a Kelp ‘o Lantern:

Gus can be highly photogenic sometimes. Like when he’s riveted to the ball in your hand:

And finally, some video of the pampered pooch in action:

Related post: “How to tell you’ve been playing too much Zelda”

I made a batch on Saturday. Unfortunately (but not unpredictably) I was the only family member to really enjoy it. More for me!

It’s difficult to find a recipe for avgolemono that’s at all complicated, but I tried. I used this recipe with orzo. The recipe calls for separating the eggs and whipping the egg whites before incorporation. A word of caution: Don’t get too crazy with the whipping, or you’ll end up with a lot of foam. It doesn’t hurt the flavor, but it looks pretty silly.

Anyway, with the weather getting colder, a nice lemony soup with chewy orzo pasta is just the ticket. Try it and see if you like it.

I just committed myself to writing a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.

From scratch.

That’s 1667 words each and every day.

May God have mercy upon my soul.

It would not be inaccurate to say that Reed played a major role in shaping the person I turned out to be. If I want evidence of that, I need only consider how often I dream about the place. In my dreams I wander from the Commons to the Student Union, searching for a progressive dinner that isn’t progressing, or I’m desperately trying to find someone’s dorm room, going from floor to floor.

My most common Reed-related nightmare involves the mail room. Throughout my years at Reed, I shared a mail box with another student, a mail box that had two knobs, each with a pointer that had to be aligned to the correct position in order to open the door. My combination was something like “first knob halfway between H and I, and second knob three-quarters past L”. I had some small difficulty remembering this. In my dream, I usually wander down to the dark campus mail room only to realize that I haven’t retrieved my mail ALL YEAR — and I can’t remember my combination.

Although the Commons and Student Union buildings have been extensively remodeled, I was pleased to see familiar bits and pieces here and there. Where the mail room USED to be, I found the current incarnation of the MLLL. I was thrilled that it was still in existence, still providing an escape for stressed out students via an extensive collection of bound comics and music.

Above the MLLL, the Student Union building remains intact. To my amazement, a large red illuminated “R” was attached high on an interior wall. The last time I saw that letter was 1987, in the Russian language house. I was friends with the RA (aka “Dorm Dad”) for the Russian house, and I remembered a farewell party we had there shortly before graduation, where the front room was bloodily illuminated by that giant glowing R. I’m afraid it made me a little bit giddy to see it again.

Nightmares aside, and despite the decades that have passed since I actually lived and worked there, I will always consider Reed to be my home. While I was visiting the other day, walking around campus, I felt a lack of stress and tension that is entirely unlike my normal state of being. It’s difficult to explain. They can change the buildings, they can change the faculty, but they can’t change the community. I have a link to that institution forged slowly over four intensive years. I share a bond with those students that starts with the poems of Homer, ends with a Thesis Parade, and is bound throughout by intellectual rigor.

I will always be a Reedie.

If you are one of those people that thinks that I simply have no will power, let me ask you something: Have you ever known anyone that could eat literally whatever they wanted, as much as they wanted, and still never put on weight? Then why is it so hard to believe there are people that can pack on the pounds even when eating “normally”?

So, when I try to diet, I typically have an initially good response. After a few weeks, when I’m tired of limiting portions and not eating anything tasty, I might slip a bit. Unfortunately when I DO slip, my keenly frugal metabolism ensures that every single extra gram I eat gets stored. The resulting rapid weight gain is sufficiently discouraging that I usually quit dieting altogether.

Fun fact: Every single time I’ve tried dieting, I ended up heavier afterward than when I started.

I started tracking my weight again in mid-July. As I’ve mentioned before, in late August I was officially diagnosed as a Type II diabetic. Ever since that diagnosis, I’ve been testing my blood glucose and eliminating sugar from my diet. More than that, I’ve quit using butter entirely, in favor of olive oil. I eat more vegetables and fruits now, and while I try to limit my carbohydrates consistent with what my doctor advises, I’ve also shifted to carbs with lower glycemic indices. I eat much less red meat now, and try to eat meat-free as often as possible.

I can show you my progress on the following chart. Horizontal lines mark 5-pound increments. More than that, I’m not saying.

Weight graph.egg on Aviary.

This is a very familiar pattern for me. My clothes start getting loose and my energy level comes up, and I start to feel really good about myself. Then I start to eat just a little more than I should, and before I know it half the gains I’ve made have been erased. To put it as mildly as possible, it’s frustrating.

However, this time I don’t have the luxury of giving up. This is a lifestyle change, and not a voluntary one. I’d like to see my kids graduate college, after all. Besides, the changes in our diet have been good for the wife and kids, as well.

I just have to get back on that horse, and eat those greens. And I certainly think that publishing my progress like this should provide an incentive to get more serious about what and how I’m eating again. Gotta love peer pressure.

The secret to assembling IKEA furniture (and by this I mean assembling it CORRECTLY, not just ending up with something vaguely boxy with zero 90 degree angles) is to forget you are an American, and adopt the mindset of a Scandinavian.

In short, put away your machismo, your testosterone, and everything you’ve ever seen in a Western. Become organized, attentive, dutiful, modest, and slightly effeminate. (It might occur to you that most women and some gay men will have an unfair advantage in this. This is true. Get over it.)

Open the Box

Let’s say you’ve been shopping at IKEA, and you’ve brought home one or more flat and incredibly heavy boxes full of pressboard. As soon as you have it laid out on the living room floor you will be seized by an irresistible desire to grab your box knife and/or multi-tool and gut that puppy. You MUST resist this impulse.

You see, unlike goods packaged for American purchasers, IKEA products are designed to utilize every single square centimeter of space in their boxes. This means that as you joyously run your box knife down the side of that box, you will be simultaneously gouging a trench in your nice new bookcase.

Think like a Swede. Fastidiously set your blade length to the minimum possible setting, and then delicately open the box by slicing down along one edge, where two sides meet. In this way you will have much less chance to damage the contents.

Read the instructions

IKEA products come with a detailed pictographic manual showing precisely how to assemble each piece of furniture, step by step. As an American, you will be sorely tempted to glance through them quickly, and then start slapping parts together as appropriate. This WILL lead to failure.

IKEA relies upon the fact that their customers, like any good Scandinavians, will carefully, nay, slavishly follow their instructions. By scrutinizing every single picture of every single step, the Swedish purchaser will notice that the side panel used in step 5, unlike the 13 other side panels in the box, has an extra hole in it. An extra hole that will become critically important in step 17, after the furniture is 96% assembled.

Be Gentle

In addition to patience, and attention to detail, you must control your gorilla-like impulses to drive every screw and attach every fixture with enough force to create diamonds from Kingsford briquettes. Either Swedish wrists are thin and frail, or no true Swede would be rude enough to turn a screwdriver with enough force to actually grunt with the effort. In any case, you need to aim for something just slightly beyond finger-tight. Ignore this advice at your peril, for excessive torque WILL result in splintered pressboard and cam screws driven so deeply that they simply will NOT engage with their corresponding cam locks.

So, go slowly, methodically, patiently, and attentively. Enjoy a pickled herring. Nibble on a krumkake. In no time at all your finished piece will stand gleaming, looking both terrifically modern and utterly out of place in your double-wide mobile home. There’s only one thing left to warn you about. Hubris.

Humility

Your average American male will mark every achievement, no matter how minor, by beating his chest, popping the top off of a beer, and bellowing “Who da MAN?!” at all and sundry. But a display like this after furniture assembly will surely offend the spirits of IKEA, which hail from a land where the men take a deep and abiding pride in their capacity for modesty (no, it’s true). At best, your new piece of furniture will spontaneously collapse. At worst: mange, scabies, impotence, and a pernicious infestation of tiny jovial red-cheeked people wearing red pointy hats.

No, the best way to announce that you have finished assembling IKEA furniture is to make a cup of hot, black coffee, take a sip, and quietly say “Well, I finished dat dere cabinet from IKEA. I probably put it together all wrong, but I reckon it’s good enough fer us, you betcha.”

Top portland or Blogs

If a certain Ms. Angelina Mizaki is to be believed, my readers have voted for PAgent’s Progress to become one of Portland’s Top Blogs at the The Daily Reviewer.

This is a great honor. One for which the only appropriate response can be “WTF WERE YOU THINKING??”

It’s weird enough to get listed on Alltop Portland, but I assumed that was mostly based on outgoing links to various Portland-area websites, and being friends with some movers and shakers in the Portland tech community. But this? I’m left shaking my head.

Let me tell you why this is so odd:

1) I don’t write much Portland-centric stuff anymore. When I do, it’s pretty much earmarked for publication at OurPDX, and frankly I haven’t been all that active over there, either; and

2) I don’t write much of anything that’s truly worth reading these days. The most recent posts are predominantly administrative FYIs and whining. (Okay, most of the posts in the entire BLOG are whining. I’ll grant you that.)

What gives? Hey, if you want to read Portland-area blogs that are actually worth reading, there are quite a few. For example,

BikePortland.org – Jonathan Maus does a tremendous job staying on top of all things bike-related in the Rose City

The Dingleberry Gazette – What working in downtown PDX is REALLY like.

The Miracle in July – This is one of the most ambitious efforts I’ve ever seen, telling a story in full multimedia. Amazing.

Cafe Mama – This is Sarah Gilbert’s blog. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She recently got the bike-through policy at Burgerville changed. And she can write. With, like, real words.

Almost Fit – This is a blog about getting fit, but more than that, it’s about making the changes in your life, in the way you think, that will allow you to get fit. And besides, Metroknow is a buddy of mine.

And these are just the ones that occur to me off the top of my head. Trust me, there are more.

Frankly, I don’t know if I can handle this kind of pressure.