Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs, Seattle

Seattle upholds a quiet charm. The suburbs of Craftsman houses with cream picket fences and delicate window shutters are modest and tasteful in their simplicity. Dotted across a city landscape dominated by water, she seems a makeshift city in her own glassy reflection and has a fisherman's village kind of feel I immediately like.

I met Carolyn whilst working in Sydney two years ago. We were two of three to bond over the trials of a stormwater management project that, in Elissa's spirit of acknowledging ''little wins'', drove us to consume Tim Tams and Sauvignon Blanc in equally extravagant measures. Carolyn inspired the cook-up of a seven kilogram turkey in honour of a shindig a long time ago someplace with pilgrims and Indians and, as I understand it, Libby's canned pumpkin pie (in which Carolyn held the kind of steadfast belief I'd thought usually reserved for religion).

A few weeks ago I'd sent Carolyn an email threatening to meet up just as soon as we shared a continent and took her reply, ''you stud'' to be enthusiastic. A far cry from Pymble mate, it is very cool to see you on home turf. You are a doll!

Photographs

[Nostalgic Steph, Pike Place Market at closing]