The fig eaters

 

The starlings and squirrels aren't the only ones who like a fig treat in the fall. This mama racoon and her baby came through this weekend and helped themselves to the fallen bounty. She looked at me like I was trespassing on their picnic. And in many ways, I was. 

"Let us live out our days with grace and humility, then let the wild things inherit the earth." 

 From "The High House," by Jessie Greengrass. 

 

Aw. Check out at these not-so-wild best friends. Animals possess this wonderful quality of always being in the present moment, and they help us spent time there.

Fall finally decided to show up here, with daily rain in the forecast for the foreseeable future. 

The final mow

 

We've been busy around the old homestead. John did the last mow of the year, and doesn't that look neat and tidy. Frankly, I'm ready to batten down the hatches and head indoors.

 Have a good weekend. 

 

 

A hack job

 

 

This amazing stretch of October weather goes on. It really feels more like September. 

 

I went nuclear option on that flower bed yesterday, using the weed eater to whack off the tops of invasive violets and Creeping jenny. I haven't kept up on the weeding lately, so that was a visually satisfying quick fix. Of course the roots grow back, but that's a problem for another season.  

 

 

It's been warm and still, so lots of stuff needs to fall down and make a mess, including the pecked figs left from the starling feeding frenzy. The squirrels are busy, busy, busy in the yard. Our resident window spider, Charlotte, gets fatter and fatter. They know something is up. This weather can’t last forever. 

 

Today is National Nut Day. BTW, walnuts are the oldest cultivated tree food, dating back to around 10,000 BC. 

 

Our grandmother made a good, heavy black walnut cake, a Pennsylvania Dutch specialty. I should try this recipe, something you can't make from a box, so Maya approved. Walnuts have a complex and memorable flavor profile. 

 

John had a wonderful slice of walnut cake once at the Tate Museum Cafe, and you can bet he never forgot  it. That may have been the highlight of our London trip for him, certainly in regard to food, most of which was memorable in another way. 

Cool or creepy?

 

John got an iPhone 18 Pro for his birthday, and he likes to show off the new features, compared to my old 17 model.

The reader mode which he uses for articles now has a new summarize feature. This is powered by Apple intelligence and it condenses large amount of text data, giving you an instant summary. Kind of like an automatic Cliff Notes. 

It also works on my individual blog posts, and yesterday it came up with the summary below. Since I never actually wrote "time and age has mellowed me" (which may or may not be true) I found it somewhat creepy how it made that conjecture from a narrative of sitting outside looking at the garden. 

Summary

Time and age mellowed the narrator, who now accepts a decaying garden in Seattle’s warm October. A spice cake with walnuts prompted laughter about Maya’s baking standards; John eats it. Past energy on the land contrasts with present quietude.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time changes all

 

 

Including us...

 

I was sitting on this bench yesterday afternoon and thinking about how I can't remember ever doing that in mid-October. By now, the dark wet curtain has usually slammed down in Seattle. 

 

It's been a warm and dry October. Who knows what winter brings our way, with that giant Pacific El Nino lurking offshore. 

 

 

 

 

I also thought about how 20 years ago, I could have never sat there on a fall afternoon, enjoying the slanting light and languidly looking out at that mess of a fall garden. 

 

For years, I would cut everything to the ground then covered the beds with layers of leaves all carted over from across the street. Many carts. Oh, the energy I've put into that postage stamp of land. 

Now I can appreciate the sight of a gently decaying garden, sad but beautiful at the same time. And wintering birds and insects love it. Time and age mellows us and hopefully, we finally let go of unimportant things. Or maybe we just get lazy. 

 

I did cut off the flopping dahlia and pulled out the straggly tomatoes pots-- too depressing a job come February. Speaking of February, those first false spring days are my favorite time to putter around outside, cleaning up the mess. Hopefully I'll be doing it again in a few months. I take nothing for granted these days.

 

 

 

It was a quiet weekend. We are getting to be such homebodies. I made a spice cake gussied up with toasted walnuts on top. We laughed about Maya, who puts her nose up at cakes from a box. Our granddaughter is the master baker in the family and a bit of a cake snob, for good reason. 

 

But John will eat it, and it's better than anything from Safeway. Those of us who grew up in the 50’s and 60’s had moms who took full advantage of convenience food and hungry kids gobbled it down without complaint. 

Speaking of baking mixes, I wrote a blog once about the history of our local Krustez brand. Wish I could still buy that flatbread pizza mix. 

Keep playing

 

That's a screenshot from a Seattle Times article featuring our West Seattle Ukulele group. Unfortunately I haven't gone much this summer, between travel and health issues, so it was nice being there yesterday, although chilly sitting outside on the patio at C&P Coffeehouse. A hardy group-- coffee and beer helps. 

WSUP started four years ago with a handful of people looking for a safe outdoor place to play during the pandemic. 

It was informal and we airdropped the music to each other, calling out song requests. Now the group uses a slick app called "SongPro" with playlists put together in advance by our leader. He's partial to 80's pop songs, some of which sound better than others arranged for the uke. But all in good fun. My playing ability has neither improved nor declined-- these days, I'm happy with stable anything. 

Over 50 players often show up for the Thursday jam, and the group performs several times a month at different venues and events. There is no lack of opportunity to hear (or play) ukulele music in West Seattle. 

 

It is apple pie season for sure, and I made one yesterday with a recipe from the NYT that called for cooking the filling first, instead of piling crunchy raw apples into the crust. It was good, although like many recipes from the NYT, involves some extra fuss and bother. 

Have a good weekend.