The pleasure of open windows

 

But not today. We've had the windows closed and both air purifiers running. Not so pleasant when it's in the 80's and you don't have AC. 

John does have a method (when I'm gone) for keeping the house cool, which involves keeping most of the upstairs blinds shut. It's depressing enough being stuck inside without stumbling around in the dark. 

We have seen much worse smoke, but my ukulele group still cancelled the Thursday outdoor meeting. I could have used some fun diversion, but cancelling was probably a good idea, since most of us are in that "sensitive" group (aka old.) You really shouldn't be singing at the top of your lungs in this air. 

Still Seattle has nothing to complain about, compared to eastern Washington where the air is absolutely horrible from the many uncontrolled fires. 

When people visit from other parts of the country, they are surprised how we can leave unscreened windows hanging wide open the summer. Insects have never been much of a problem. But who knows what climate change has up its sleeve next.  

They say tomorrow will be a better day.  

 

The cows come home

 

A blog post without photos? Who wants to read through my rambling text without even a pretty picture? What was once so easy (above) on my laptop now takes a complicated work around process. That only works sometimes. 

Anyway, delving deeper into this photo uploading problem on Google Blogger revealed a giant hodgepodge of a password mess (according to my tech support person.) This is what happens when you allow things to just evolve "organically" letting technology make decisions without any master plan. Things work fine-- until they don't. 

But as Albert Einstein said, "In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity." 

Good morning, Sunshine

 

We call this the “end of the world” sunrise. The air not as bad as it looks, but we will be under the murk for a few days. 

Having a spat with Blogger this morning so short post. 

Gentle times

 

A little photo diversion from all the bad news. 

This is a family gathering on the farm in Bucks County where our dad was born. Everyone is dressed up with cakes on the table, so maybe a special occasion like a wedding. Unfortunately, these long gone relatives are unidentified.

In the 1950's, we had family parties in that same spot in Grammy's front yard. 

They didn't have fancy outdoor furniture, so trestle tables were set up (with tablecloths) and kitchen dishes and chairs brought outside. There was good simple Pennsylvania Dutch food like ham, potato salad, pie and watermelon. 

Food in those days was always passed around in bowls and platters, never buffet style. Seconds were OK, once everyone was served, but it would have been considered rude to pile your plate high. Meals lasted a long time (kids were expected to sit and listen until excused) because people ate slowly and talked. 

My, how old I am. Another aging observation: stuff gets bigger but not necessarily better. 

"A typical 1950s dinner plate (8-9 inches) comfortably held roughly 800 calories worth of food, compared to modern 12-inch plates that can hold over 1,900 calories."

We have escaped the air pollution from the fires so far, but our luck changes mid week when they say it will turn both hot and smoky in Western Washington. Bad combination. 

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, 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