Fee fi pho

 

Food is apparently the main topic of interest this week before Thanksgiving. We went to the Fred Meyer in Burien yesterday, a long trek just to "save money" on a turkey and groceries, but at least we had a good pho lunch in White Center along the way.

Fred Meyer (Kroger, actually) gives a 10% senior discount on Tuesdays, and there was plenty of company from our demographic puttering around. An elderly man came up and gave me a handful of coupons, saying "his doctor wouldn't let him eat these things anymore." (Maybe I still looked healthy enough for Haagen-Dazs.)

Anyway, Fred Meyer is one of those vast and awful everything stores, where you can throw some jeans or can of paint in the cart along with the food.

It is considerably cheaper than grocery stores up here on the north end of the peninsula, but I go mostly because they carry products you can't find anywhere else, like Hungry Jack pancake mix. 

What a boring post, I can't believe anyone is the slightest bit interested. 

Blue plate special

 

Sometimes, it's just a meatloaf kind of night. 

The happy woodcutters

 

The farmhouse is already starting to look like home. What a beautiful view from those living room windows, especially compared to downtown Twisp. 

 

The family that cuts wood together, stays together. Ha! They went on a work outing up at their property, and the looks on those teenage faces say it all. 

We were having a different sort of fun yesterday. 

 

This cheerful looking gentleman is the Austrain Anton Bruckner (1824-1896) an oddball and obsessive man with a number of unhealthy interests, including death and teenage girls. 

His 11 symphonies are now considered "monumental" romantic period masterpieces. When I hear that word describing a symphony, the first thing that comes to mind is "long." 

Bruckner's 4th Symphony, which we heard yesterday, runs about 70 minutes. Like listening to Mahler and Wagner, you have to set your brain to a different Bruckner clock. 

Trying to give something undivided attention is surely good for us, especially in these days of being "distracted from distraction by distraction." T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets.

And at least we got out of the house on a truly dreary afternoon. It hardly got light yesterday! Bruckner beats sitting on the couch watching the Seahawks lose. 

 

If Winter comes...

 

 "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?"   

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Amanda sent this grey and drear early morning view of the orchard, looking toward the lights of their house in the distance. I look forward to pictures in every season, the orchard soon blanketed with snow, then covered with spring bloom-- magical. 

Speaking of snow, it is late in the valley, which has been good news for the moving. They finish up at the old house this weekend, and can concentrate now on getting settled in for the winter. Needless to say, this has been a big adjustment for everyone in the family. 

You can take the dog off the ranch, but you can't take the ranch out of the dog...

Born and bred on a ranch, Nica was never much of a city dog. Now in late middle age, she's finally back in her natural element. 

As a puppy, she was thoroughly socialized by the girls into a gentle and devoted family dog. She loves the house cats and is afraid of the chickens, but has always been reactive to strangers. This is a good thing, and if any wildlife shows up, the chase is on. She is fearless to the point of stupidity, what can you say? 

It's been a quiet and soggy week here. We have a Symphony concert Sunday afternoon. Fortunately the Seahawks are playing out of town, so we won't hit the stadium traffic this time.

Have a good weekend.  

 

Make the days count

Yesterday was a gorgeous gift of a day, and probably the last dry one in Seattle for a long time to come. 

I got in some yard work, then gathered up this scrappy fall bouquet of odds and ends. In the mellow afternoon light, it looked like a Dutch master painting. 

 

And why wait for a cold, damp day in December for this chore? 

The new arbor isn't as tall as the old one, much less, crumbling to pieces, so the job was easier. I also put blinding white LED lights in the greenhouse window, so we are lit up like Las Vegas when we eat our dinner in the kitchen. Let's just call it cheerful. 

That's about all the November news. 

Pear creativity

 

 

In a nutshell, that's how to make spiced pear butter, an unusual and expensive treat. I found a online specialty store selling little jars for $10.

Made just like the old fashioned apple butter, except this recipe is spiced with cardamon and nutmeg instead of cinnamon, along with ginger and lemon juice. (An Indian spice, I know our Grammy never heard of cardamon!)  

John did the milling, then the pear puree gets cooked down like jam to the tricky gel point (my job) making a nice mess of the stove top as it blurps away. But well worth the trouble. Think apple pancakes (above) or toast or cornbread or biscuits or even ice cream.

Hopefully the first of many delicious pear concoctions from the family orchard.