Verbosity galore

 

I'm finally 3/4 of the way through this dense tome and at this rate, maybe I'll finish by fall. "The Magic Mountain" is not exactly light summer reading. What was I thinking?

The novel takes place in a tuberculosis sanatorium in Davos Switzerland. There isn't much to the 1,000 page story except a young man goes to visit his ailing cousin there, then becomes convinced he is also sick and winds up staying in that surreal and creepy world for 7 years. 

The sanatorium is a closed ecosystem obsessed with disease and death, becoming “ a mirror for doomed European society” before WW1. A single day can run whole chapters, and Thomas Mann packs the pages with dense German philosophy.  Eeek. 

I read this book back in my English major days and found it fascinating. But my brain worked better then and I had more attention span, not to mention, less distractions while laying around with a heavy book on my stomach. Well, I get A for effort. 

It's another stick-close-to-home weekend with Sea Fair in full swing mucking up the traffic. It should be quiet in our neighborhood with everyone elsewhere. 

Eastern Washington is suffering right now under awful smoke, but so far we've escaped that scourge. Just one beautiful day after the other in Seattle. Perhaps a touch of rain tomorrow. 

Have a good one.  

  

And this too shall pass

 

Roma tomatoes. 

Gladiolas. 

 So-so grocery store peaches for vanilla ice cream tonight.

 

 

The neglected blue hummingbird feeder transformed into a chickadee water station. They love it. 

(A brilliant idea, if I don't say so myself.)

Stargazer lilies in full bloom. 

 Simple and pretty Gaillardia (Indian Blanket.) 

And a little nudge saying nothing lasts forever-- a snazzy pair of rain boots ordered from Costco. 

"Your days are numbered. Use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. If you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it."

Marcus Aurelius
 

And so it goes

 

They tore down an old bungalow just down the street from us, and today they started the excavation, making a big racket and dust. 

The soil in West Seattle is sandy and dry as a desert! This is why, in an major earthquake, we would have something nasty going on called "liquification." But that's another story.

As I walked by, he was cheerfully ripping out a blooming hydrangea by the roots and a rather fine Japanese maple. A sad sight dangling from the bulldozer. A good job for little boys with toys who never grow up. 

One more urban patch of bird and insect habitat bites the dust, literally. 

The plan is to squeeze three tall townhouses on that tiny lot. The street in front of our house will soon be a staging area for construction deliveries over the next months. You wouldn't believe the huge trucks they maneuver down the narrow alleys. 

So the summer of relative quiet is over. And as always, our most beautiful season is going too fast. The Blue Angels just arrived in town for Sea Fair Weekend, screaming overhead when you least expect it. People find it thrilling, and I used to, but I'm getting old and crabby. Especially when it comes to our tax dollars burning up the sky.

Anyway, I love August and it is almost here. Summer's last stand and always a bittersweet month. It has a lovely quality that feels heavy and light at the same time. Soon school starts, vacations wind down and fall ramps up. Most people think of autumn as the beginning of the new year. 

Follow the directions

 

 

Not to brag, but this was the best of many pizzas I've made with the NYT simple pizza dough recipe. 

What is the secret? Follow the directions (duh) to mix the dough a day ahead, then let it slow rise in the fridge. This is the same method that gives that wonderful crusty texture in homemade bread. 

No oily salty pepperoni, just vegetables and a mix of provolone and mozzarella. Who says pizza can't be healthy? And for a change, we made it through meatless Monday yesterday with leftover pizza for lunch and tofu stir fry for dinner. 

Other than occasional Thai take out (which I can't make at home) we almost never go out to eat anymore. One reason:

"Washington ranks as the most expensive state for dining out, with Seattle rivaling or exceeding costs in places like New York City."

The restaurant sticker shock is worse for people who remember when a bowl of soup was $5 not $20. And not that long ago. 

I don't mind cooking and John doesn't mind cleaning up the kitchen, so it works out pretty well.  

 

The many colors

 

My friend Tim posted a picture on Instagram of his gorgeous hydrangea blooming in several colors at once, almost like this one in our yard. 

Apparently it happens because soil acidity is rarely uniform across a garden bed, and the plant's roots sit in different areas picking up different ph levels. 

For some reason, our hydrangeas are more beautiful than ever. Two years ago, I pruned them almost to the ground and they did nothing last summer. Now they forgave me. 

Hydrangeas actually bloom best left alone with little or no pruning, but gardeners do like to fuss with them.

For example. I passed by this one many times on my old 2 mile pandemic loop walk. On the same walk recently, it was exactly the same, blooming its heart out over the sidewalk. The yard still neglected and never pruned, watered or dead headed-- so there you go. 

Well, I don't have much news. A heavy cloud is over Seattle after the shooting last night at the Bite of Seattle festival.

Really? What will it take? We ask ourselves again and again but nothing changes. 
 

Supersweet 100

 

 

More like Supersweet "500." The plant is covered with fruit. 

After a few days of hot weather, four months of watering and fertilizing suddenly pays off. This is a good variety to remember for next year. They have that sweet crunchy pop when you bite into them and nothing compares to a warm cherry tomato off the vine. 

Not to mention, the first simple tomato salad of the summer. 

Believe it not, we eat lots of iceberg lettuce salad in this house, and you gotta have iceberg for tacos. 

Iceberg has become rather unappetizing for the time being. It's unnerving how something so ubiquitous could make you deathly sick for weeks. 

We had Italian pasta last night that Amanda brought from Italy. I usually buy whole wheat pasta so this white orecchiette was a nice change. I cooked the whole bag and will do something with the leftovers this weekend.

Yes, the weekend, here again. A slight chance of showers and a high of 75.  So pleasant. 

 My sister Marji in Las Vegas sent this photo yesterday: 124 degrees on her patio in the sun. So dangerous. 

 

The locals down there are smart as desert rats. The tourists, maybe not so much.