Oh! Town Grab Bag

Some "Friends" I Left Behind--Look In On Them For Me?

2011-06-07T21:04:00.000-07:00

On 23rd Street between Adams and Jefferson.

http://www.homelessveterans.org/

http://youtu.be/KIo5xNyP4HU

Crossing The Pond For Cornishons

2011-05-27T22:38:00.000-07:00

I like sour pickles so much that sometimes I can't prevent myself from taking a swig of the juice--even before the pickles are all gone. By "sour pickles" I don't mean any kind of dill pickle. A dill pickle is a dill pickle and a sour pickle will turn your mouth inside out! I can get $5.00 sour cornishons (French for "no dill") for 2 bucks at this fallen-off-the-truck grocery store over by the old stockyards--you know--by the landfill across the 24th Street viaduct? Lots of other real-deal steals, too, by the way.

You just have to be willing to cross the mote to get there!

New Harmons in Farmington--Boffo!

2011-05-20T00:19:00.000-07:00

I don't even have to buy anything to enjoy shopping here; although, I have bought a few things since it's opened.

Pink grapefruit sorbetto and cherry amaretto gelato. Smoothe.

My favorite mango stilton in this section.

Sushi chefs create these little beauties fresh daily...glistening pink salmon roe missing from this picture, but trust me, it was Right On.

Kobe beef for under $20 per pound! And cuts of dry-aged beef for even less. No, those are good prices and won't stay this low once people catch on to the delectability of dry-aged beef. Don't worry, other meat prices seem more normal. Nice, really fresh seafood selection, too, offering calamari steaks and oysters in the shell, crab legs, scallops, clams, etc. Almost makes you wish for Christmas Eve so you can make your traditional "seven-fish" supper. Oh yeah, a pretty variety of firm-fleshed whole fish in this section, too.

And here we have a lounge upstairs next to the cooking school.

I didn't get pictures of the cafe or the florist's area. Or the salad bar, or the pizza bar or the wok bar...or the very colorful produce area. I've been there a few times and have yet to have time to check out the "regular" grocery aisles. The place is ginormous! And big, too. Really, a whole marketplace called a grocery store.

Hey Trees...A Penny For Your Thoughts!

2011-05-14T08:59:00.000-07:00

And Please! What IS This Thing?

2011-05-04T11:45:00.000-07:00

Are We Alone...In Ogden?

2011-05-02T18:54:00.000-07:00

Now you see 'em...

Now you see them just a little bit less...

And suddenly they are not there at all!

(View of the police station from my back window.)

I Love A Summer Night

2010-08-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

Especially in the hood!

Well, my hood, anyway.

Came out of Peery's Egyptian Theatre the other night after a trip down Memory Wild West Lane...a bit thirsty from all the dust being kicked up at Hole in the Wall...and was quite refreshed by these sights!

Film Festival At The Egyptian: A Knock On The Hippocampus

2010-07-20T15:06:00.000-07:00

The year was 1965. Our family had just moved to Syracuse, Utah from Farmington, New Mexico. One state away and what a difference a state line can make! For one, who ever heard of putting ketchup on hamburgers!? To the five of us kids, (elder brother already moved out, younger brother not yet born) having to make adjustments to a new place should have been, by now, old hat, having experienced a rather itinerant, literal sojourn on earth. But we were kids and uprooting was hard. Every time. No matter how many times we had done it before.

Something that was always a comfort, for me especially, was "going to the show." And go to the show, we did.

Peery's Egyptian Theater where I first saw this rollicking romp, which I must have seen at least seven times in as many days, (remember when you could stay and watch a movie over again without having to leave the theater?) is screening it again this week! It's part of the Pharoah's Phamily Phun Philm Phestival. They're showing other movies, too, like "High Noon" and "Shane," and "Gigi" which I think is a really ugly movie. But, that's beside the point. What is right ON the point is that I get to go see Cat Ballou with my sister and my daughter, at the historic Egyptian in Ogden, Utah. What would you call that circuitous kind of serendipity?

http://www.peerysegyptiantheater.com/events/film?layout=category

"Come And See...The Moon Is Dancing"

2010-03-15T15:47:00.000-07:00

http://www.mambazo.com/

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=faXBr5H9QMc

http://http//www.utah.com/database/events/event32979.htm

"For more than forty years, Ladysmith Black Mambazo has married the intricate rhythms and harmonies of their native South African musical traditions to the sounds and sentiments of Christian gospel music. The result is a musical and spiritual alchemy that has touched a worldwide audience representing every corner of the religious, cultural and ethnic landscape. Their musical efforts over the past four decades have garnered praise and accolades within the recording industry, but also solidified their identity as a cultural force to be reckoned with."

Tickets are $20.00 and $16.00 for students and seniors. Student rush tickets will also be available for $15.00 one-hour prior to the performance at the Egyptian box office.

Tickets are available at the Peery's Egyptian Theater Box Office, by calling 800.888.TIXX or at smithstix.com

Phone: 801.689.8700

Event Hours: 7:30 pm

Admission: $20/$16/$15 student rush

Location: Peery's Egyptian Theater

Address: 2415 Washington Blvd, Ogden

Jonesin' For Winterfest!

2010-02-12T14:38:00.001-08:00

ARE YOU READY? Ogden Winter Fest begins tonight. If all I get to see are the toboggan parade and this event,

I will be this happy:

2010-02-12T14:38:00.000-08:00

Be There Or Be Square, Bear!

2009-12-28T21:22:00.000-08:00

Ogden's First Winter Fest

http://ogdencitymayor.blogspot.com/2009/12/announcing-ogdens-first-winter-fest

http://www.winterfest.ogdencity.com/

Feb 12-14 (cozy way to celebrate lovers'-day!) A three-day snow party! You might choose to enjoy the fireworks or the toboggan races or the ice sculptures or the concerts or even wear your own snowshoes to make your way down 25th Street (I hear they're hauling in snow for this blow-out.)

Me? Not gonna be too picky about who I might have to knock over with my ski poles to park my Radio Flyer on the front row of that skiing-behind-horses event! Forewarned is forearmed, folks

http://www.winterfest.ogdencity.com/

Queen Of The Rink, Anyone?

2009-11-28T21:32:00.000-08:00

These ladies represented at the parade tonight! (You know, the Ogden Electric Light Parade, fireworks and Christmas Village Opening--where were YOU? It wasn't even cold.)

I had no idea they even existed until I saw their float. An endearing piece of my past has just come back to life. I don't know, though. They said they couldn't throw the competition over the rails (because it's a flat track and there are no rails) OR elbow them in the breadbasket, (but I know they still have breadbaskets.) I'm calling "WIMPIE." What do you think? Is everything just getting too watered down in this oh-so-politically correct world?!

Local First, And Then Again

2009-10-29T12:05:00.000-07:00

Because there is such bounty here in the Cradle of the Wasatch!!
Sweet Charity at the Washington Heights Baptist Church ginormous craft bazaar and Gathering Place event.

Fresh, hay-fed turkeys just down the road. You can pick up your order Mon., Tues., or Wed. of Thanksgiving Week. We're going on Wednesday just because that's when it's the bustlingest time. All that last-minute activity gives credence to the crackle in the air.

I put up some green-tomato mincemeat pie filling with local ingredients and you know what they say about Utah tomatoes. Used Woodyatt's dried cherries, too. Haven't made the pie, yet, so no picture for you, but wait for it.

HAPPY HARVEST

Echos of Eccles

2009-10-20T12:50:00.000-07:00

Bertha Eccles Community Art Center. (Well actually, it's just called Eccles Community Art Center since 1976, but I don't like leaving Bertha's name out of it. I know that whole Eccles clan has given beau coups gifts to Ogden and vicinity, but I still really appreciate Bertha's contributions!)

All-kyna things going on here. Sculpture gardens, classes, plays, exhibits, music, restorative yoga.

I was selling tickets to a play here the other day. Just sitting at my post, minding my own business, which is like UNHEARD of if you know anything about me. But I really was. I had already done all my traipsing and snooping to find good pictures. I was just sitting there and noticed that the window across the room had a certain photographic appeal. It reflected the painting inside while reflecting something from on the porch and at the same time, the street lights shined through.

Snap! Nice, huh? Especially that little blue circle right in front of the radiator behind the table.

See? Right there...

Isn't that a pretty little blue ball? But wait...I don't remember seeing that there before I took the picture. And when I looked back from the camera to the window, it still wasn't there. Let me take another picture to see if it shows up again. Something reflected on my camera lense, or... No. It wasn't there in the next picture, either. And it never came back.

"When The Trees Are In Voice"

2009-10-12T11:31:00.000-07:00

(Robert Frost)

Deere Johnny Jumped Up And Made Some Ice Cream

2009-08-28T14:52:00.000-07:00

With this old Deere! On the southwest corner of 25th and Washington. Peaches are in season, folks. With the loss of Country Boy's peach pie shake in North Ogden, maybe we can find a replacement of sorts here.

The sign says, "Watch this old John Deere make ice cream."

"Short Days Ago We Lived..."

2009-08-01T16:10:00.000-07:00

Travelling Viet Nam Memorial Wall Replica in Ogden, Ut weekend July 31- Aug 2, 2009 with 2600 American flags in the Healing Field to pay tribute to fallen soldiers.

The Patriot Guard Riders

2009-08-01T13:00:00.000-07:00

2009 Gathering of the Guard in Ogden, Utah weekend of July 31-Aug 2.

From all over the country--hundreds of them.

Gideon'z Gold

2009-07-27T11:37:00.001-07:00

The kid's name is Gideon and this is his honey. He lives in Riverdale and tends the hives with the help of his father. I asked him how his honey is so light and he said the he lets his bees work with white flowers, only. Funny kid.

Check out the honeycomb logo on his label--he said he and his father came up with that on their own. Isn't that a good one? The "G"s formed by the cells of the comb and using a "z" instead of an "s" to make you think "buzz." (Yeah, I explain jokes, too, just in case you don't get the obvious.) Clever kid.

I found this sticky gold at the Ogden Farmer's and Art Market a couple of Saturday's ago. They sold out and weren't there the next Saturday, but rest assured they have my name and phone number to call me when they have a new harvest. The honey tastes as sweet and refreshing as it looks, with a message from the wild flowers still attached to the background. Really, really good honey. Very enterprising and cute kid.

Ogden Pioneer Days Rodeo 2009 Weeeee!

2009-07-25T15:03:00.000-07:00

Just pictures this post.

The Three "O"s

2009-07-22T16:53:00.000-07:00

Ogden's Own Obon.

And the Taiko Drummers?
Oh-so fantasutikku!

Ogden Buddhist Obon Festival This Saturday

2009-07-17T09:18:00.000-07:00

THAT'S TOMORROW, FOLKS! Saturday, July 18, 2009 4-10 pm. I'm a bit slow on the uptake here and I regret that, because this is one of my favorite Ogden summer activities! It's usually in August. I had to surf for these pictures, but I will be there for sure taking some of my own to post later.

Food, dancing, drumming, fun in the sun!

It's hot.

Obon (お盆) or just Bon (盆) is a Japanese Buddhist custom to honor the departed (deceased) spirits of one's ancestors. This Buddhist custom has evolved into a family reunion holiday during which people return to ancestral family places and visit and clean their ancestors' graves, and when the spirits of ancestors are supposed to revisit the household altars.

Also called the Feast of Lanterns, it has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years and traditionally includes a dance, known as Bon-Odori.

Taiko means "drum" in Japanese (etymologically "great" or "wide drum"). Outside Japan, the word is often used to refer to any of the various Japanese drums (和太鼓, 'wa-daiko', "Japanese drum", in Japanese) and to the relatively recent art-form of ensemble taiko drumming (sometimes called more specifically, "kumi-daiko" (組太鼓)).

Ogden Taiko Drummers rock and rattle the earth when they get going. You can feel it rumble in your chest just as you sit, watch and listen.

Ogden Buddhist Church - www.buddhistchurch.com

155 North St, Ogden - (801) 392-7132

Bigger Than A One-Horse Town

2009-07-15T14:16:00.000-07:00

Hi-yo Multi-color and away!

Yes, I know. If you live here, you've seen these painted wonders already, all over the downtown streets...the flowerey one, the pink and purple harlequin one, the marble-looking one that, if you were a receptionist at a countertop manufacturer in the 70s, would look more like "classic onyx" to you, the outdoor adventure one...and with any horse sense you can imagine what the other 90 or so horses might look like.

This is my favorite--a cash cow counterpart.

And then my next favorite:

Let's get both sides of this one.

"Steeds, steeds, what steeds! Has the whirlwind a home in your manes?"

Nikolay Gogol

If George Jetson Didn't Design This...

2009-07-13T10:22:00.000-07:00

Who did?

And will you be my friend and help me with my next Atomic Tea Party?

Pan Handlers Closing

2009-07-07T13:51:00.000-07:00

Oh say it ain't so!

But, my daugther called me here in Montana to tell me they had some good close-out deals, so you might want to get down there in the next little bit.

Ben Lomond The Brave

2009-07-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

What other high school has a Bagpipe Corps for their school band? Even when one lone student goes out at lunch to practice, the sound of those drones is quite stirring, don't you think?

Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy, Cherry Pie Days of Summer

2009-06-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

Really?

These...
come from this?

And aren't we glad they do!

Especially glad we have this place righcheer in our own backyard.

Just a short drive north on Highway 89 on your way to Brigham City. You can buy buckets of frozen pitted Montmorency pie cherries or bags of dried pitted cherries. You probably think I have a tendency to say everything is the best of the best, but I really don't. If I say something is wonderful, it is probably more than wonderful -- just like these cherries.

You probably haven't had cherries this good in your life, I don't care what kind of memories you have of picking Bings, Queen Annes or Raniers in your grandmother's back yard, sitting in a tree-house and spitting the pits out over the railing onto the hard, dry ground...or of drooling over the ones your uncle marinated in vodka that your mother wouldn't let you taste. Well, maybe the way you imagined they would taste might possibly taste better than Woodyatt's cherries, but only because you haven't outgrown your desire for the forbidden fruit.

If I were going to be around over the July 4th holiday, I would think seriously about making a really scrumptious mango/lime cherry pie for you. You would probably like it a lot.

There Must Be 50 Ways To Say "No-sir-ee, Buddy!"

2009-06-22T20:58:00.000-07:00

This isn't even the wildest ride at Lagoon, is it?

But I still say, "Oh the hell no!"

That's what these fools should have said. Do those look like happy faces to you? What? You can't see their faces? That's because THEY GOT LEFT BEHIND IN G-FORCE LAND! HELLOO!

Home Is Where Your Stuff Is

2009-06-18T20:26:00.000-07:00

This is someone's home in West Weber--not a store, not one piece for sale!
And yes, I asked.

Zydeco On Steroids

2009-06-13T09:40:00.000-07:00

Even on sports shooting mode, I couldn't get a good blur-free picture of these Hell Raisers! That pose right there of Alex, on frottoir--scrub board bib--is the split second he landed on his feet before lift off again. He was like a little twig caught up in a tornado, but totally in charge of the energy zapping through his limbs and rubber neck.

Alex came out on stage before the Doop-meister (my choice of appellation) appeared, to get the audience revved and ready for Dwayne Dopsie (pronounced "Doopsie,") to come out and show us why Les Haricots was created in the first place.

If you weren't there last Friday night at the Ogden Amphitheater, I hope it was because you were at the Blue Grass Festival at Fort Buenaventura. Also, if you weren't there, you won't be able to get even a sense of how good this was from anything I can write about it. But let me just say, that Doopsie-guy can ZYDECO!!

http://www.dwaynedopsie.com/ Don't pass up a chance to experience this if it ever comes your way again.

http://www.dwaynedopsie.com/

Come On In...Take Your Shoes Off...Set A Spell

2009-05-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

A Fox On The Run in Ogden, Utah

2009-05-17T09:24:00.000-07:00

Ogden Friends of Acoustic Music
Welcome to the Second Annual Ogden Bluegrass & Acoustic Music Festival
http://www.ofoam.org/

"OFOAM was formed in January of 2008 by Michelle Tanner and her mother Dottie Vernieu with a mission to bring more live music to Ogden, and to provide music opportunities to the youth of Ogden. This notion came after attending a music festival in Flagstaff, AZ, “Pickin’ In The Pines” where they saw the Kruger Brothers.

By partnering with United Way of Northern Utah, OFOAM was able to acquire 2008 R.A.M.P. funds for Kruger Brothers concert June 11, 2008 at Peery’s Egyptian Theater. OFOAM has compiled a talented board of local music consultants and a committee of dedicated volunteers. Due to the success of the Kruger Brothers concert, efforts were aimed towards a yearly Ogden bluegrass and acoustic music festival in June.

Fort Buenaventura was chosen as the site due its beauty, and close location to downtown Ogden while still having a secluded feel. On-site camping provides a great opportunity for jammin’ and fun.

The line-up was chosen for it's talent and diversity. From the beginning, a dream has been to have a festival with many styles of music represented. Thus the name Bluegrass & Acoustic Music Festival. The variety comes in the Acoustic part. Acoustic does not mean unplugged, it simply means playing instruments the way they were intended to sound - without synthesization or distortion. This broadly encompasses many genres. A possible future theme for the OFOAM festival may be a BLUES-GRASS festival, in the true spirit of Don Baker, music promotor extroidenaire who has gone on."

The Cistene Chapel, It Ain't

2009-05-05T19:43:00.000-07:00

But still very interesting, don't you think?

Ogden's "Wall Art."

All around the town,

through the trees,

in the lane,

(You know these are bottles, right? I used to try to take pictures of this wall from full-on front and I could never capture the essence--no matter the light or time of day. I think it looks better from an angle like this.)
off the wall--literally and very literally. You can see this bizarre tiger-bunny as you drive down Wall Avenue. Maybe a distant cousin to Jack-A-Lope. I think Homey Jack's got competition!

A bit of a divergence, here, since this mural detail (the whole wall a Tuscan-like village) is painted on an inside wall. This is my not-a-drop-of-Italian-blood-in-him kid brother represented as a capocuoco on the wall in Ligori's Pizza and Pasta Restaurant. It wasn't in memorium when it was painted, but it became that when Michael died almost 20 years ago. He's the Scottish redhead, sporting the Celtic jig pose. He had aspirations to open an Italian Restaurant in Australia.

The cowboy who almost wasn't.

His dad didn't want him riding in the dangerous rodeos, but somehow he managed, quite secretly, at first, to make himself and his horse, Mad Max, famous on 24th--street and of July!

This one is more like a billboard, but it's on a wall and baseball has a place in my heart, so I included it here.

In true mural form, this one must be political, but I can't read the word. Can you?

Another indoor picture sublimely enhancing a wall. Awww..., huh?

Where Can I Buy An Abelskivver Pan?

2009-05-03T13:12:00.000-07:00

Right here at this family owned specialty shop on H25.

The thing they are most proud of in this store is "Mother's trivet collection."

Now if I just knew someone who could make me some abelskivvers!

Pupusa World

2009-04-28T14:00:00.000-07:00

Bright, colorful and kitschy.

And right here in Ogden.

You've no doubt seen the place on your way to Macey's grocery store. It looks like a dumpy little tacqueria, barely bigger than the taco stands downtown, and I must have driven by it more times than I can count before I read the sign calling it a pupuseria. I LOVE PUPUSAS! How come I didn't know we could get them in Utah? Probably because I didn't read the sign until a couple of years ago.

Here's the real story, though:

Not a quesadilla, at all. Not even a Gordito, as much as it might resemble one. Made with masa flour and something like farmer's cheese, these gems are mucho-muy delicioso. Emphasis on mucho-muy delicioso. (Hey, if Latin restaurants can be kitschy, I can coin corny adjectives with their lingua.) Hot and greasy, too. Of course, that's coming from someone who revels in the ambrosial flavor of grease sandwiches.

Only a couple of bucks, too.

The fillings are not just cheese. We have two choices here in Ogden:

1. Cicharones or bacon-like fried pork bits, very salty and surprisingly tender,

and as with everything I tout, there is a little surprise thrown in...

2. Loroco. See the green bits in the picture above? Not onions or peppers, but chopped vine flower buds.

Woa, huh?

These are my favorites for a couple of reasons:

I like the way the sound rolls off your tongue:

Con loroco.

Con chicharones is pretty fun to say, too, but it just doesn't sound as lilty and lyrical.

And although I like salty and intense, the pupusas con chicharone at El Nueva Almanecer are just a tad too that.

Not to worry, though, because they come served with a fresh cabbage slaw that refreshes almost as much as the horchata or the piña, or in my case, the Diet Coke.

And the third of my couple of reasons for prefering the flower-filled pupusa is because it's a flower filling. Because that's just cool.

You Can Lead A Horse To Beer

2009-04-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

But how much will you let him drink if he is your ride?

Christmas at the Kokomo on H25
(Well, actually, the day after Thanksgiving in parade gear)

We were just strolling down the street after the parade last winter when we saw these two go into the bar. I said, "Dang, I wish I had a camera!"

And Stephanie said, "I've got one!" and pulled it out of her pocket.

The horse's schnozzola poked through the door in the bar didn't give me as much pause as what followed when they walked away.

A woman came rushing out of the club exclaiming, "Wait. I haven't talked to you in months!"

Naturally, I thought she was addressing the Christmas Cowboy, but when I turned to be nosy, myself, for a moment, there she was carrying on what sounded like a sober conversation, catching up with the Holiday Horse, because, after all, she hadn't talked to him in months.

Just A Little Cruise Through The Clouds

2009-04-19T15:51:00.000-07:00

Hop a freight, grab a star, swim or fly to get to this restaurant!

Or, there are other modes:

Not all as classy as this, I'm sure.

And if parking is tight, there's always that sweet spot by the back door!

Once, a little family climbed down out of a plane, the little kids still in their jammies, and they filed into the restaurant for breakfast.

However it is you get to the Auger Inn at Ogden Hinckley Airport,

it will not disappoint.

Nothing especially unusual about the fare, except it that tastes so dad-gum good, you can't get it out of your head for more than 30 years. My sister used to waitress here in the 70s and we went back the other day hoping that the hamburgers were as good as memory promised. You know, sometimes Memory lies and you have to watch out and her sister, Hope, can mess with your head, too, but this time they were right on.

How could that be, though? Most restaurant burgers look good, right? Even as good as this one looked. I wondered what specifically made my hamburger taste so good, but I didn't want to stop eating it long enough to ask my sister what she thought makes these things taste so good. I even had to comment on the crispy, sweet onions that seemed bigger than the beef patty without overpowering it.

Well, I don't know. It's a puzzle but somehow this food tastes like the past. Oh wait. I know what it is. NO KETCHUP. Who puts ketchup on their hamburgers, anyway?! (I think that was one of the biggest culture shocks my family went through when we moved into this state many long years ago. Forget about religious differences, these people couldn't keep from messing up a perfectly good hunk of meat by putting ketchup on it! I had a friend in high school who would take the Heinz jug out of her mother's refrigerator and haul it with us when we went to Hardee's for lunch. She didn't like their ketchup and ask for her burger plain so she could "fix" it when she got it.)

However, I must say, I had to try Auger Inn's ketchup on those fries, just for authenticity's sake, don't you know. Not bad, and I'm not a fan of ketchup--oh, you knew that did you? It was in a Chef Dave's from Texas bottle and the label was washed out and worn down, some. You can do what you will with that information.

And as we are at the fries, now, yeah, yum. Hot and crunchy on the outside, hotter and soft on the inside.

I asked owner Paul Cromwell, "Remember when Robert Redford came through here?"

He laughed and said he remembered it well. SLC was fogged in and Redford had to hole up in Ogden for a while. He asked Paul if he could hide out in his kitchen, because the runway out back was littered with all these commercial and news planes.

"That was a big mistake. All my girls just went crazy in that kitchen!"

My sister was one of his "girls." He changed her name. "That table's waiting for service over there, Suzy."

"My name's not Suzy."

"It is now."

Suzy

(Well, this was maybe a couple of years before Suzy worked with Paul.)

The restrooms haven't changed that much, either.

A Farr Better Beacon in the Cold Cold Night

2009-04-16T17:54:00.000-07:00

Well. What do you think? Think it bears repeating?

OK, how's this?

And this?

Right. You get the picture.

But do you get the aroma?

They should call it Vanilla Waffle Warm. It has steamy little tendril-like fingers that waft up to your nose and pull you through the door.

Oh. Mmmmm...

I counted, oh I don't know--a gazillion deep? There are little heads in that crowd that you can't even see when you're in the store. And this was on a cold Utah winter's eve.

They're waiting for cherry chocolate chip, or moose tracks (with miniature peanut butter cups,) or some outlandishly chunky strawberry ice cream--if they can make up their minds, that is.

But what am I telling you for? If you live anywhere in the vicinity, you already know about Farr's--it's about like 80 years old or something.

You can buy allkynna sherbet, ice cream that looks like playdough, old fashioned Iron Port or retro Root Beer, creamy scoops dotted with little surprises and real teddy bears, too.

This place is mere steps from my front door, but that's all right because they have the best "no sugar added" vanilla ice cream and they pack it tough down into the little pint carton that I schlep home with, vowing to make it last longer than five minutes.

And I do. Because you know--a vow is a vow, after all.

Hot On The Boot-Scootin' Trail

2009-04-01T17:17:00.000-07:00

You've been here. Hot pots at the mouth of Ogden Canyon,

furnished with cup holders,

syphoned from a concrete collection system above the pools.

But did you go there on a snowy day? Scoot up and down the really dangerous, slippy-slidey, narrow little trail, leaving jack-rabbit-like foot prints?

Were you so dedicated to getting your own "authentic" pictures, that you just inched up the trail,

and waddled down the trail,

at times without even picking up your shuffing feet...

just to get your own picture of the hot mineral water pouring out into the river?

At my age?

Didn't think so.

Right On The Tip O' My Heart

2009-03-27T19:51:00.000-07:00

Was it memory or imagination... or age... that made me hanker after a loaf of that old Monastery bread? And if it was memory, what of it? The taste? The place and time I first tasted it? The cache of experiences collected and contained in my nineteen-year-old sensibilities? I don't know, but over the years I have been visited by sparkly flashes of memory that distill in the word part of my brain as "Monastery Bread."

I volunteered during the early shift as a "Pink Lady" at the county hospital in Roy, Utah, walking across the street from my backyard without first taking time for breakfast. After helping a few patients with their morning meals, I could take a break and head to the dining room for my own snack. I'd been smelling that hearty, yeasty, toasty aroma all morning and now I could go get my free slice, (volunteers get some perks!) slather it with peanut butter and strawberry jam and forget I was even on the earth!

I ended up taking a full-time paying position at the hospital as an over-worked, under-paid, trod-upon lowly nurse's aide and stayed for a full year, in part because of that bread. Not that I couldn't or didn't have resources to go buy my own loaf, but some things are just not the same taken out of their contextual homes. As a matter of fact, doing winter restoration work at Camp Utaba up in the Valley, I could slip over to the Abbey and buy some bread and honey, which memory also entertains me at this late date.

Drive,

drive,

ARRIVE

But no one toasted it like those little kitchen ladies at the hospital. My mother remembers when she was a patient herself St. Benedict's Hospital (Old St. Ben's) up there on the East Bench just below Mt. Ogden Park. She had an appendectomy and for five days survived on jello water and clear broth. Her first post-surgery bite of real food was toasted Monastery bread. She still claims that she must have "died and gone to heaven!"

Until very recently, I had given that memory a special place in the Cave of Never Coming Out Again and was hoping for an archival photograph of the monks making bread--just for fun, because googling is great fun for me. I happened upon a site http://www.gallagherstravels.com/States/UT/abbey/ which had a story about the Holy Tinity Abbey in Huntsville and this is what I read:

Although the monks no longer sell their fabulous Monastery Whole Wheat Bread the monk who was the baker has developed a recipe for homemakers who wish to bake their own wheat bread from the monastery recipe. Sweetened with Holy Trinity Abbey liquid honey, this wheat bread is delicious.

Could it be? Dare I scroll down and see if he posted the recipe?!

Here is the recipe...

OH MY HEAVENS, YES!!

(I won't re-post the recipe here, but it's still at that link above, if you want to try it--or ask me for it and I'll give it ye. Oh, and, well duh! They have the recipe right on their own website, but that would have been too logical and not convoluted enough for me to figure out early on: http://www.holytrinityabbey.org/recipe.htm)

I'm not silly enough to have expected it to be the same, even if I could make it just like the monk used to make it for me. (Yes, he made it especially for me until they took him out of the kitchen and sent him to work the farm.) I tried to prepare for the eventuality of at least a little disappointment. I tried to know what my brain knows. I made an adventure out of expecting, plotted the way I would photo-chronicle the process of following the recipe as closely as I could, imagined what I would say to people as I told this story.

But I still sort of hoped in a little hopeful heart, a little tiny bit, that it was possible to loosen that gleaming gem from the crusty, dusty rock of "real life."

So I drove up to Huntsville to get some honey and some pictures.

I walked into the gift store and asked casually of the man sitting behind the desk,

"Honey's the only thing you still make up here, eh?" (I know, I know--I'm a dreamer. Maybe if I asked it the right way, he would say, "Oh no. Didn't you know? We make bread, too!")

But he didn't. He said, "We make monks. That's harder than honey."

We talked, Fr. Patrick and I, about the bread and the honey and my daughter and a wonderful scripture that I could even quote without having to look it up! ("Inasmuchasyehavedoneituntotheleastofthesemybrethrenyehavedoneituntome.")

Twice, Fr. Paddy gave me a message to relay to my swell gehl of a daughter.

I should have stopped right there. What could be better than such friendly, casual banter with a stranger, meeting someone I wish I could really call a friend because he was so lovely and engaging, feeling so connected just by having yesterday's bread and honey in common? Or was there more to it? Did my search for a piece of the past lead me down a winding path of spiritual connectedness? Well, okay...I'll rein it in a bit.

But I really liked this brother.

And actually, the bread didn't turn out half-bad, either.

http://www.holytrinityabbey.org/ Visit this site for more information about the Monastery, including the ascetics' prayer time in the chapel, retreat information--yes, you too can repose and reflect in the mostly unspoiled mountain location--history of the order and, well, you know, other things monastic.

The Story of a Gehl and a Fella

2009-03-24T21:13:00.000-07:00

This really cute and cool gehl works on H25 in a boutique called Ume, that no one really knows how to pronounce. You say it "You May" because it's a clothing boutique where "you may" purchase your dreams. This gehl likes this job because she gets paid to try on clothes. Once in a while, she will look out the front window and see this really cute and cool fella trying to make his way down the street:He supports himself on the window ledges along the way and walks like he's an "L." Ghel runs out to offer assistance and sometimes Fella is going to the barber shop on the corner where he will announce, "Willie. I'm so poor. I have no money. I spent it all on whiskey." (It might be a joke; it might be true.) And Willie will laugh at him and say, "I know. Sit down and get a hair cut."
He wonders aloud whether the person taking pictures is an American. Why would an American be out there on 25th street taking pictures? He's puzzled, she's wise, because my daughter knows me and she knows I just bought a new camera and she knows I've been bit by the blogging bug.

Sometimes he is going home from the barber shop.

Fella says he is 91 years old and ready to "go home any day...Many moons. I'm just waiting. Been waiting many moons."

"Yes'm, old friends is always best, 'less you can catch a new one that's fit to make an old one out of." ~Sarah Orne Jewett

This Is A Fine Town

2009-03-18T18:26:00.000-07:00

I read it with my own eyes:

"Ogden has become Utah's little sweetheart.

I have a lot to say about Ogden, myself, but I know it's pretty much been said by bigger and better sayers: National Geographic, The Salt Lake Tribune, The Wall Street Journal, New York Times. They have all written about "...the adrenalized adult's version of Disneyland," in some form or another. So good for Ogden.

I like it for some other reasons, too, not the least of which is this Star Noodle dragon, a photographer's dream of a sign. As with a lot of people, Ogden and I go way back. I wasn't born in Ogden and I'm not a native Utahn. Got dragged here with my family when I was a kid, but not even to Ogden. Syracuse, actually. Onion fields, flooded ditches and Stimson's market were our playgrounds, then, until we grew up a little and found ways to get into town on our own.

Got our vinyls at Woolworth's, hot dogs at ZCMI snack bar, ham salad sandwiches at Kiesels on the corner and suede moccasins at Cross Western Wear. We tried on clothing at Auerbach's, but didn't buy much there. A little too rich for our blood at that time. We were lucky to find peasant blouses to fit our budget in the Bon's basement.

We still have the Egyptian, but we went to more movies down the street where we watched "The One and Only Genuine Original Family Band," "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "Camelot" and (still a favorite of mine) "To Sir With Love" at the Orpheum.

Then I grew up, moved away, came back, moved away, came back, moved away-away, came back...well, who's counting? I'm here now. I've been through some growing pains with Ogden and have developed a nearly sentimental loyalty to the place.

I'm developing this grab bag blog just to chronicle snap shots (literal and literary) of places and things, people and surprises about living in this cradle of the Wasatch. For fun. Because I want to.