On HGTV, ceiling fans are portrayed as outré, but Barbara and I like them. Years ago, we invested in a Hunter anniversary reproduction of one of their 1930s-fans, an enamel-coated cast-iron monstrosity that we kept in our garage for a couple years, then had to take down and re-hang after we’d first put it up when we renovated our living room.
I’ve always wanted to get one of this type of multi-fans that I saw in a bar tonight, where there is a main rotation bar with a fan on either end of the bar. Not this particular one, but a much more industrial version I spotted at the old Lights Plus when we were shopping for light fixtures. Aside from the cost, we don’t have a room big enough for it.
We’ve got ceiling fans in the living room, the office, and the Situation Room (Wolf Blitzer isn’t there, and it’s really more of a hallway than a room, with entrances to the bathroom, the back hall and kitchen, the hall to the living room and office, and the stairs to the second floor) on the main floor, and in the main bedroom upstairs. Mom found a slim-profile extra-quiet fan for the bedroom that doesn’t chop off my head under the low ceiling.
Anyway, no multi-fans.
Both of the cats are eighteen-and-a-half years old. We’ve got so many pictures of them as kittens where they were together, but for a long time they’ve gone their separate ways. This was really no exception, but Tiger Lily decided to jump up on the chair despite knowing Jasmine was up there, so it was a chance to get a rare photo together.
Barbara likes what she likes. And I try to make her birthday full of likes.
She likes the beach. For a number of years, we’d head to the coast on the weekend closest to her birthday. A little over 20 years ago, we started going to Astoria nearly every year. We’d stay at different places, but we settled into a routine that included a trip to The Bowpicker for their tuna fish and chips, and a Friday night dinner at Mary Todd’s Worker’s Bar & Grill (now just Worker’s Bar) for a burger (Barbara) and prime rib (me).
She also likes Chinese food. Our go-to spot for going out to dinner used to be the Hunan in downtown Portland, where she without fail would always order Shredded Beef with Spicy Sauce, a glorious spicy confection of tender meat and crunchy vegetables. But it closed at the end of 2014, after we’d been going there for over 25 years, and Barbara—who’d never found another restaurant with that particular dish—managed to get the owner to give out a recommendation, which is how we ended up at Lake Oswego’s Hunan Pearl, which has a nearly identical dish (not too surprising, considering one of the chefs came from the Hunan restaurant).
We need to get back to Astoria one of these days—what with the pandemic and all, it’s been a few years—but this year was a trip to the Hunan Pearl.
My selection tonight: Szechuan Shredded Pork, which is the only item on the menu where the description says “Hot, hot, hot!”. My fortune makes me worry that I’m due to end up in a refugee camp.