Fire! {Navy Strength}

I have mixed feelings about bars and restaurants where the drinks can be unequivocally categorized as strong. The drinks at Navy Strength (sister bar to No Anchor) definitely fall into that category. While I certainly appreciate getting a great value, Four glasses of champagne? No problem. Calm, cool collected. Three Navy Strength cocktails and you’ll likely find me under the table. It’s taken me a couple of visits to figure out my rhythm here, but after a few visits, I think I finally have it down. Two drinks max and I have my favorite.

“Weird Beer. Rad Food.” {No Anchor}

No Anchor does a better job naming this post with their tagline than anything I could come up with on my own. “Weird beer. Rad food.” That about sums it up. Chris and Anu Apte Elford who brought us famed Seattle Belltown cocktail den, Rob Roy, have created something totally different and equally awesome in No Anchor.

Predictability {Via Tribunali Queen Anne}

B and I aren’t exactly spontaneous people. It’s not that we don’t enjoy the occasional adventure. It’s just that we find a great deal of comfort in routines that we enjoy, in looking forward to going to the places and having the experiences that we know will make us feel good. Last month, we had a pizza craving and decided to head up the hill to Via Tribunali. They have four locations, but ours is on Upper Queen Anne. We’ve been going there for years, but our visits are generally sporadic. I wouldn’t have called it a favorite so much as a place we really enjoy when we go there. Our visit in January was a little bit different, though.

“Do not go gentle into that good night” {marjorie}

At a loss for what to do today, on this day of mourning, we did what we know how to do. We went to Marjorie because when all hope seems lost, we subsist by seeking refuge in spaces where love and light abound. I leave you with words far apt and more eloquent than any I could write.

 

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-Dylan Thomas