Category: Places

Categories
Places

Bean Town

Yes, I am packing, but catching up with emails and weblog visits first.

Rogi asked why Boston is called Bean Town. Well, sit down dears, I have a story to tell.

In the golden old days of New England when they would burn you as a witch for working on the sabbath (or was it the dunking wheel?), anyway, all the women in the community would make these pots of beans to be left at the Bakers. During services, which lasted all day, the beans would bake. At night they would have these beans with the traditional brown bread that still accompanies these tasty legumes.

The beans, mixed with molasses, became a favorite primarily because Boston was awash, as they say, in this dark, syrup (treacle to you from other continents) — a main trade commodity, unfortunately associated with slavery. These beans were such a favorite with Bostonians (probably because they’re cheap, and Bostonians are nothing if not frugal), they were called Boston Baked Beans. Hence, Bean Town.

More at About New England.

To make this an even stickier story, there was the molasses flood in 1919 that killed 21 people, a dozen horses, and one cat.

Categories
Travel

Where in the world is Burningbird

Kick self in butt. Time for adventure, Orange Woman.

Saturday morning, in the early hours, I am finally getting in Golden Girl and heading out on the road. Final destination: Boston, with select points in between. I figure if I’m writing, I can do this just as easily from hotel rooms in the evening, and spend the days getting out in the world.

Can I afford this? Hell, no. But I’ve never let that stop me in the past, why should I let it stop me now? I am an American! I have credit cards!

My direction? Not sure. As in the movie Chocolat, I plan on following that old wind, seeing which way it goes.

So check back for installments of Where in the Weblogging World is Burningbird.

Categories
Places

Calm Waters

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The water of the Bay is remarkably calm today, almost glassy in spots. A very rare occurrence.

There was a sailboat fairly close to shore, and I could actually see it’s reflection in the water. It was a very pretty sight.

Unfortunately, the lack of wind that helped calm the waters also calmed the boat’s sails — my joy in the sight of the boat probably suffers in comparison to the curses of the sailboat captain who must now turn on his or her motor in order to continue.

Enough distraction, back to MT.

Categories
Places

Oregon Weather

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Jonathon likes the weather he experienced in Portland Oregon. I lived in Portland for four years, and in Seattle for nine years — after a time the drizzle and overcast can get a bit wearying, especially if you live in the city.

Out of the city, though. That’s where the mist comes into its own.

Cannon Beach, Oregon — one of my favorite places. Grab a slicker and walk the beach during a rain. You’ll have the waterfront to yourself, and the mist combined with the surf is oddly peaceful, tranquil.

Or the San Juan Islands — the mists there are almost a veil, tossed carelessly across the waters and islands. In the winter you can find stretches of area where you’re alone on the water, you, your boat, and maybe, if you’re lucky, a Killer Whale or two.

We don’t have that much drizzle in the San Francisco area, but overcast and rain is pretty common in the Winter. The best, though, is the Summer fogs. Driving along the peninsula you can see the fogs roll in from the ocean, soft, thick, beautiful. I would deliberately wait for days when fog is in to walk along the beach by the Golden Gate Bridge.

The fog cuts off the city and obscures the bridge, and its you, the beach, and pelicans and sea lions hunting fish close to the shore. Out of the mists you can hear the Bridge fog horms, and you can almost feel the large container ships passing along the waterfront beside you.

Nice memories. Thanks for triggering them.

Categories
Places

Krispy Kreme

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I had this most horrible nightmare last night.

I dreamed that I was on a deserted tropical island, and the only thing I had to eat and drink was blueberry bagels slathered in Vegemite, with room temperature, flat Foster’s to wash them down. And it was in color, too. Shudder What does it mean?

I’ve heard enough about Tim Tams to know that I must try them. I live in one of this country’s most sophisticated and urbane cities; only 8% of the population that live here can afford to live here. Surely there must be some shop somewhere that sells a cooky labeled as “sexy mass-market”. That description fits San Francisco so well!

I kept trying to think if there was a particular food item that has similar universal appeal and fondness in this country. One that can also generate the same wistful thoughts, prolonged discussion, and copious drooling from even the most hardened weblogger. Just before I went to bed last night it came to me: Krispy Kreme.

I have seen weblogs devote an entire week to nothing but postings about a new Krispy Kreme that opened in the neighborhood. Cars can line up for blocks waiting to get into a Krispy Kreme outlet. Little old ladies with blue hair will run people over with their shopping carts in a mad scramble to get the one remaining box of Krispy Kreme’s.

Why, in certain parts of this country, if you come between a Man or a Woman and their Krispy Kreme, they’ll shoot you.

And on that bit of cultural exchange, I think I’ll sign off and get to work for the day. Beautiful clouds across the Bay today, as shown in this photo snapped with my handy Nikon 995 digital.

P.S. Just joking about that shooting part. Really. Honest. Cross my heart.