More than slightly yummy

The Wall Street Journal might say vodka is passé, but The New York Times counters that it ain’t dead yet. Me? I’m usually indifferent to the tasteless liquor. Which is probably why we have a nearly full bottle of it in the cupboard.

The upside to tasteless, of course, is that it works well as a base spirit, letting other flavors shine. The Spokane Examiner published a most excellent cocktail called the Tuxedo, which features vermouth, absinthe, orange bitters, and maraschino liqueur. It’s slightly sweet, slightly herbal, and more than slightly yummy!

Tuxedo

2 oz. vodka
1 1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1/4 tsp. absinthe
1/4 tsp. maraschino liqueur
3 dashes orange bitters

Combine all ingredients with ice in a mixing glass. Stir well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a maraschino cherry or twist of lemon.

Clematis explosion

I’m a low maintenance gardener, meaning stuff gets planted and if it does well it’s due to no effort on my part. This year, our spring was unusually cold. Our clematis must have liked it, because it climbed right up and over our porch railing and has produced way more flowers than it ever has before. The flowers are starting to fade a bit, but it’s still the best part of relaxing on the porch in the afternoon sun.

Annette Lake

Last Thursday I did a quick hike up to Annette Lake. The forest walk was cool, but the bugs at the lake were ferocious. I didn’t stay too long, preferring instead to munch on my sandwich as I made a hasty retreat down the trail.

They don’t make bridges like this very often. This one was simply carved out of a big tree that fell down.

That’s not dirt on my legs

You allegedly learn something new every day. Today, I learned that it’s really hard to photograph your own legs, especially if you want to show just how bruised they are. That’s right folks - those dark patches all over my thighs are not shadows or dirt smudges. They are evidence of just how determined I was to push myself this weekend to get better at mountain biking. Or, they are evidence that I could really benefit from some pads while I’m learning to crash.

For the record, I cut open my shins twice on the pedals and christened my white bike with splashes of red. 

Sunset on Mt. Hood