Our pretty Nova

Grandpa Jerry took these pretty photos last week. Amanda tells us Nova is standing up by herself for "seconds at a time." Those first steps are coming soon...
She's thinking about where she wants to run first!

All in a name

I'd like to have a job dreaming up new flower names for the catalogs. You know...the names that make gardeners order more plants they don't need?
Like these iris:

BEWILDERED BEAST: a mottled, ugly/beautiful hyena striped thing
HARLOT: frilly pink blouse, black skirt, trashy
PRIDE OF IRELAND: chartreuse, of course
FIT FOR A KING: two-toned purple, an old lady outfit
FIRE BREATHER: solid gold
IMMORTALITY: pure white

And so on--you get the idea. And that's just the bearded iris page. How about a Batflower or some Red Wind Forest Grass? And I might have to order the Purple Prince Trumpet Lily, just because. PURPLE PRINCE!
Bulb catalogs are nothing new, but when it comes to marketing to gullible gardeners they're a brilliant combination of the visual and linguistic. Almost like flower soft porn...

A person can easily get carried away, and before you know it you've mailed in a big order. Anyway, the fantasy is over when that box of dry sticks and roots arrives in the fall, and you have to figure out where to plant "Bewildered Beast" in your jungley beds.

The Age of Anxiety

Our last Seattle Symphony for this season was a tribute to Leonard Bernstein. No "West Side Story" tunes-- instead we heard his compositions The Chinchester Psalms and The Age of Anxiety, based on a poem by W.H. Auden.

Above is an old photo of Leonard Bernstein at the piano, looking pretty anxious himself. He was an immensely talented teacher, bringing "classical music" to television in the 50's, and famous for his recorded young people's concerts. Bernstein was a superb pianist and conductor, but above all he wanted to be remembered as a composer. He lived from 1918 until 1990, when the chain smoking finally caught up with him.

Describing modern classical music is difficult. I like Auden's poetry, but I've never read the book length "Age of Anxiety." Both Auden and Bernstein were interested in religious and ethical themes. When Bernstein read it in 1948, he found the poem "fascinating and hair-raising." Of course, that was a fascinating and hair-raising time of history. Like the poem, his symphony is divided into six movements which blur into each other (I tried to keep track on the program notes, but couldn't.) The piano (played by Misha Dichter) represents the quest for meaning, faith and love against a wild backdrop of woodwinds, horns and percussion.

Anyway, here is a beautiful photo (borrowed from the Getty Archives) of the poet Auden on the beach in 1946. Angst and cigarettes...

Consider the lilies...

OK, after the third call to the Punjab, I'm a bit grouchy about Amazon customer support. My Kindle is very cool (thanks, John) but it seems the battery won't hold a charge more than 4 days. This pretty much eliminates the point of the whole thing. I might as well tote around a paperback, which won't go black on me in the middle of a sentence.

So yesterday morning I explained the problem once again from the start, and heard once again how the Amazon "software engineers" will "investigate" and get back to me in 3-5 business days. Which means I can look forward to another conversation with the Kindle support sweatshop on the other side of the globe.

Well, I had to step outside and take some flower pictures to distract myself.

The roses are at their peak, and the lilies just starting. The garish orange ones are always first. Unlike the finicky and fragrant Orientals, these Asiatics are tough as nails and come back every spring like clockwork.

Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not; they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Luke 12:27

Wild kingdom

I was sitting at my desk yesterday morning enjoying the early summer peace and quiet, when a flock of noisy crows descended on the big tree across the street. It was the most gosh-awful racket you could imagine. Crows are smart and don't do anything without a reason, so my first thought was "eagle." Crows despise eagles, but surely a raptor wouldn't be dumb enough to sit in a tree and be heckled by crows?

I watched from the porch for a while, and there it was! The tail of a young raccoon high in the branches. By using zoom and then cropping the image I got a pretty good picture of his hind end with my little camera.
In fact, I've seen several teenage coons lately, wandering around in broad daylight. I think their Mams have just cut them loose, and they're out in the neighborhood learning life's lessons the hard way. This one was sure getting lots of unwelcome attention...

He tried to tough it out, but an hour later the crows were still having a fit. They eventually badgered him down, because he ran for cover across our overgrown front yard. I got another quick picture before he gave me a dirty look and ducked into the hedge.

And he still wasn't off the hook-- one of the crows stood guard and squawked at him for another hour, just for good measure.

I want one

Don't you hate the way watermelons roll around in the fridge and on the cutting board? Not to mention the trunk of your car?
Leave it to the Japanese to invent a square one, by growing each melon in its own box...
Never believe everything you see on the Internet, but this one was so wild it had to be true. Thanks for sending, Dr. Jean!
:-)

Trader Joe's

After years of wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin' we're finally going to get a Trader Joe's store in our part of Seattle. No more driving across town for our favorite goodies!

The photo above shows the sad, empty car dealership where the new store will open in 2011. It's next to the "Hole Foods" hole I wrote about last year. Now it seems even more unlikely a fancy supermarket will ever be built there. But who cares?

If you don't know much about Trader Joe's, this cute little video says it all. We never get tired of watching it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdB7GDZY3Pk

And here's the artist's conception of our beautiful new store:

Pioneer princess

There have been complaints on the blogosphere lately about the lack of "Nova" on Feathers and Flowers. OK, Nova fans-- here's your next fix. And how cute is that?

Amanda took her to Ms. Kitty's Old Time Photo Parlor in Winthrop, where you dress up in old-fashioned clothes and have pictures taken looking like a Victorian lady or pioneer girl. It's pretty hard to take a bad picture of Nova, but this was her first professional photo shoot. It was a wonderful Father's Day surprise.

Summer Solstice

Morning Sun
Edward Hopper

Today there will be 24 hours of daylight north of the Arctic Circle, and 24 hours of darkness in Antarctica. Seattle is not close to the North Pole, although sometimes it feels like it. Still...the summer days are longer in the top left corner of America.

An insomniac will notice faint light in the eastern sky before 4 am. Then the insomniac will hear the birds start up. But at 9:30 pm, when the early risers are trying to get a few hours of sleep before going to work, it's still full light out.

The Summer Solstice on June 21st is a celestial event which results in the longest day and shortest night of the year. The Northern Hemisphere celebrates it in June, the Southern Hemisphere in December. Without this tilt of the earth's axis, there would be no seasons north and south of the tropics. Of course, near the Equator the warm climate and amount of daylight is pretty much the same year-round.

Seasons changing is old news to all living creatures, but still interesting. And it reminds me of why I like the tropics. To the human body rhythm, there's something regular about 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of darkness.

Sol + stice is a combination of Latin words meaning "sun" and "stand still." As the days lengthen, the sun rises until it seems to stand still in the sky.
For centuries, most civilizations celebrated the first day of summer with dancing and bonfires to help increase the sun's energy. Pagan spirit gatherings or festivals were common in June, and the Christian church joined in deciding to celebrate St. John's birthday on June 24.

At old Stonehenge, thousands still gather on Solstice Eve to dress up in funny clothes (or take them all off) and watch the sunrise after a night of serious partying.
We've had one of the coolest and gloomiest springs I can remember in Seattle. It feels like summer hasn't even started yet, but beginning tomorrow the days will be getting shorter as we head oh-so-slowly toward the winter solstice in December.

Peacefully
The quiet stars came out,
One after one;
The holy twilight fell upon the sea,
The summer day was done.

Celia Thaxter

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to Sam in Colorado, and John Sr. in Ohio. And special wishes to Tom, the newest dad in our family. We hope your day looks something like this:

Here's a couple of family photos, salvaged from a very old box:

Under the Christmas tree together...

And Suzy with her Dad!

My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
Clarence Budington Kelland

Scallops with pasta

It won't surprise you to hear I'm still doling out scallops from my $20 Costco bag. And I think we're on meal number three. This is one of my favorite dishes, although I suspect John would rather have a bowl of penne with red sauce and sausage. To bad, I'm the cook and on Friday night we usually have seafood.

So, I seasoned the defrosted scallops lightly...
Then put on a pot of linguine to boil.
I used my new steel wok to sear the scallops. Would they STICK?
Nope, they turned nicely and left a good crust in the bottom of the pan.
I added a generous amount of garlic, lemon juice, pepper and a big glug of white wine. Then reduced the mixture for a few minutes on high heat...
I mixed in the cooked pasta, and violated the Italian "cheese-seafood" rule by adding some grated Parmesan. It helped bind the sauce...
It was delicious. John's comment was, "I guess a person only gets four scallops in this house!"
(That's right, John)

Just Joey and friends

You could write a book about the mythology of roses, and literature abounds with references to roses.

Have you heard the Latin term "sub rosa?" It means a strict confidence, or private conversation. According to myth, Cupid used the rose to bribe Harpocrates (the god of silence, bless his heart!) into keeping quiet about Aphrodite's love affairs. Harpocrates is depicted holding a rose in one hand with a finger at his lips. From that myth came the saying "under the rose" which was used to mark secrets.

Our roses are beautiful this year, as they are every June. They don't seem to mind the cool, damp weather we've had, but I expect the leaves will start to drop from black spot soon. Some will bloom through the entire summer, but nothing matches that first June bloom, when they are covered with flowers.



Last May, John gave me "Just Joey" for mother's day, after I dropped heavy hints for years. I love this rose, it's one of my favorite colors...

This is "Brother Cadfael," a David Austin rose and John's favorite. This is the rose in the blog's top banner picture.

And another of our David Austin beauties called L.D. Braithwaite.

It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses-
We plucked them as we pass'd.

Thomas Hood

More museum stories

I was excited when the Museum of History and Industry posted my second "finding aid" on the Northwest Digital Archives. Of course it's not really mine; the photo collection and document belong to MOAHI. But after all those hours of research and writing, it's hard not to feel just a little proprietary. You might remember I work at the Museum archive one afternoon a week, and each collection they give me becomes a little more challenging. The Fred Christensen collection was just a box full of unidentified construction photographs from 1962 World's Fair, so it required a fair amount of detective work. When my finding aid was finally finished, a few of the most interesting photos were scanned by the Museum staff and then cataloged (by me!) It's been a long time since I put my rusty cataloging skills to work.

Recognize this structure? If you live in Seattle, you might-- it's a construction photo of the Space Needle, viewed through the framework of a Science Center decorative arch. Both buildings were completed in the nick of time for the World's Fair in 1962. I like the blasted, surreal look of this landscape that eventually became the lush Seattle Center. This old photo is a masterpiece.


And here's a view of the Science Center under construction, or more correctly the United States Science Pavilion, as it was known during the Fair. This project was funded with federal dollars, and it was full of gee-whiz exhibits to show the rest of the world how technologically advanced we were in the "Space Age."

The scene below shows the Seattle Monorail support columns being hoisted into place. The concrete was poured into wood forms right along Fifth Ave. Four men and a crane. You get the feeling they really knew how to get things done fast in those days...

Click here for more pictures on the MOHAI website.

And Ravel, too

The person I live with, who reads every single word of the blog, pointed out the fact I slighted Maurice Ravel in my post yesterday about the Seattle Symphony. So, I'm correcting that omission here, and also attaching a UTube video (for the first time!) to impress my daily editor.

Ravel's Pavane for a Dead Princess is a lovely piece of music. It was written as a piano solo, and later rearranged for orchestra. When you listen, it's easy to understand why it became immediately popular.

"What fresh hell is this?"

The author Dorothy Parker is jokingly referred to as the "Patron Saint of Tech Support Workers." When her train of thought was interrupted to answer the phone, she would pick up and shout:
What fresh hell is this?

I guess anyone who solves other people's problems for a living would find that witty. Dorothy also said this:

I require three things in a man; he must be handsome, ruthless and stupid.

And this:

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

Afternoon of a Faun

The Symphony last Sunday was an all French program: Debussy, Saint-Saens and Chausson. I like daydreaming through classical music with a beautiful melody and story, so Debussy's "Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun" is a favorite. We heard it in the first half, along with Saint-Saen's Piano Concerto No. 2 played by a Macedonian pianist, Simon Trpceski. The newspaper reviewer described this Concerto as a "blistering difficult piece that is catnip to audiences." At intermission, the handsome young pianist was busy selling and signing his CD's.

A Faun
Pal Merse

But back to Debussy's fauns. It was completed in 1894, and inspired by a notorious poem written by Stephane Mallarme. The poem describes the daydreams of a young faun, a mythical half-man and half-goat. On a warm afternoon, the faun lounges around imagining encounters with woodland nymphs.

Faun Whistling at a Blackbird
Arnold Bocklin

Debussy is referred to as a musical Impressionist, and he was the master of conveying mood and theme through ambiguous melody and orchestration. Apparently, the poet himself was pleased with Debussy's Faun interpretation. But at the time it was first performed, the piece was bizarre and confusing to musical audiences, just as Impressionist painting was to the art world.

Rain + Heat = Bamboo

Whoa!

I measured the 48 hour growth on one of the Henon bamboo culms. An astonishing ten inches in two days. Henon is one of the scarier bamboos; you won't be surprised to hear we planted it in our wild (some would say, irresponsible) garden. At the time, a 30 foot bamboo seemed like a good plan to hide the view of those power lines in the backyard. Now it's coming up through the floor of the shed and under the fence. Honestly, I'm hope I not here long enough to see it crawl under the pavement and pop up in our neighbor's lawn across the alley.

Fortunately the growing season for bamboo in Seattle is short, just a couple of months, or it would have taken over the house and property long ago. If you Google "Henon bamboo" you'll find many photos of this incredible plant.

Saturday excursion

Nope, we didn't strike it rich yesterday at the Snoqualmie Casino. In fact, we only stayed long enough for a slot machine to eat my $5. This view from the upper level restaurant makes it look like a ski lodge, and in fact is the nicest thing about the place. The local TV commercials show a glamorous clientèle and establishment. Well, we're not casino people. And the fact they allow smoking didn't make us want to linger inside losing money, so we had lunch elsewhere.
Then for some fresh air, we headed down the road to good old Snoqualmie Falls, a sight you never get tired of.
And a final stop on our way home at the Community College rose garden in West Seattle. It was the first warm day in weeks, causing the drivers on our congested roads to go crazy and rush around like a giant anthill. It was nice to get home by 2 and enjoy peaceful afternoon. John mowed and I puttered around the garden planting sale geraniums.

Rose garden

Rebirth
Four days
Her petals furled
Gainst chilling wind and rain.
Came sun, and rose disclosed her heart
Pure gold.
-Emma Berthelot

What a change to wake up to clear, blue skies this morning. By 4 am (don't ask) the first birds were already yammering and it was getting light. After all the rain, it will be a day of lawnmowers and power tools in this neighborhood. We decided to take a little drive to the foothills and check out Snoqualmie Casino. Will we come home rich?

Wilson's warbler

It isn't often I get to add a new bird to my Life List, but last week we saw this little guy on the power line in the backyard. The Wilson's Warbler is here just for the summer, and my Seattle bird book says they like "well-planted backyards." In June and July during nesting season they're secretive and conceal their nest sites. Hopefully they made one in our overgrown laurel hedge. Their song is described as a "hearty chatter."