Happy Easter

It's a beautiful spring weekend and the family got here safely yesterday afternoon.  Nova slept in the car on the way over from eastern Washington, and when she woke up in Seattle, Amanda told us the first thing she was, "Everything is so green and yellow here!"

We all walked up to the neighborhood pizza parlor for an easy dinner last night.

Maya looked almost ready for a slice of her own!

The house is still asleep this morning (except for Nana) but I think I heard the Easter Bunny rustling around last night.  Have a wonderful and joyous Easter Sunday.

Good Friday

Still Life with Breath

Lara Orchard

We know what happened on Good Friday and there wasn't anything "good" about it. The incongruous name may have evolved from the more ancient "God's Friday."

The new pope just held an unprecedented ceremony on Holy Thursday, washing and kissing inmates’ feet at a prison in Rome.  It was the the first time the ritual happened in a prison and included women and Muslims.  “Whoever is the most high up must be at the service of others,” says Francis.

My family members indulge me because I like Roman historical movies at Eastertime.  The habit came from the dark ages of television, when you watched whatever seasonal movies the handful of channels played. Remember checking the TV Guide? That's when Ben Hur, The Robe and Demetrius and the Gladiators became Easter traditions while the ham was cooking.

Now these movies are out on DVD, sometimes in Blu-ray "collector's editions." John gave me Ben Hur for Christmas a few years ago, and more recently Spartacus (1960) and The Bible: In the Beginning (1966).

I love Blu-ray, and the painstaking restorations make them look better than they did on the big screen. When you see a "cast of thousands" it's real people, not computer-generated nonsense. I will say though, movie audiences had more patience in those days. I know John must truly love me if he sits through a three-hour Biblical epic.  But you can't beat the stories...

Antonio Ciseri

Pontius Pilate presenting Christ to the people  

A couple of small things made me irrationally happy yesterday.  It was so warm I left my fleece jacket in the car and walked around Target in a T-shirt. I felt light as a feather, especially when I realized I wasn't using the cart as a walker.  (Other than a twinge now and then, my ankle is finally feeling better.)

And best news of all, our family will be here tomorrow afternoon.  I can't wait to see the little girls!  And Easter Sunday is still on track to be the warmest day of the year.  

Swamp cabbage

Lysichiton americanus

I was so busy messing and fiddling with my technology yesterday morning I didn't even have time to write a blog post.  Go figure. I suppose I could learn to blog from my iPhone on the go, but the folks at Firefox (my preferred browser) don't get along with the folks at Apple.  It's complicated.

Skeeter

I was also out of the house early-- Dolly is away this week and I've been checking on the horses.  It was warm, calm day in the foothills.  I've been going out there for many years and it's nice to see familiar things happening in the same place each spring.  Skunk cabbage blooming down in the creek, and this clump of daffodils always by the arena.

The trees are  just starting to leaf out and the horses are going crazy for the lush grass after a winter of hay.  I rode around an empty pasture yesterday on Skeeter but he would rather have been in there eating.

From the field I could see the Snoqualmie River across the road, looking pretty ravaged. Each spring there's a completely new riverbed scoured out from winter flooding.

This morning it's raining hard in Seattle, but we're being promised a warm and dry Easter weekend.

The cherry now

"Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide"

Today is the birthday of A.E. Housman (1859-1936).  Housman was one of the greatest classical scholars of all time, but he's best remembered for those beautiful "cherry blossom" lines from a set of poems called A Shropshire Lad.

A fellow don described Housman as being "descended from a long line of maiden aunts."  He would intimidate his students to the point of tears and didn't even try to remember their names, claiming that "he had burdened his memory by the distinction between Miss Jones and Miss Robinson." Here's another Houseman quote:

Knowledge is good, method is good, but one thing beyond all others is necessary; and that is to have a head, not a pumpkin, on your shoulders and brains, not pudding, in your head.

You get the picture. A Shropshire Lad was a favorite poem of Inspector Morse on the fictional TV series, which makes perfect sense because Morse was another brilliant but fusty old curmudgeon.

A.E, Housman

I always think about those cherry tree lines when I'm driving around our neighborhood this time of year. Someone at a nursery once told us we live in the "banana belt" of Seattle, which may be true.  The streets around here are lined with pink and white flowering trees that good people planted years ago.

It feels like spring, although the rest of the country is still freezing cold. The temperature this morning is 15 degrees warmer than it was this time yesterday.  Window-washing day is here.

First mow

Grass mowing machine

1830

What a difference a day makes. Snow flurries on Friday morning and by Sunday afternoon the neighborhood was buzzing with lawn mowers and hedger cutters.  

Grass mowing machine

2013

Well, the machines look the same, but lawn mowing fashions have sure changed over the years. You don't have to dress up in steam punk garb anymore.

I love the first mow of the spring. In fact, it might be my favorite gardening day of the year. By that time (John's "tradition" does not allow mowing before daylight savings time) I've already been working in the beds for weeks, pulling weeds and doing other rough work.

The first trim on the lawn and around the border edging is the icing on the cake. You probably know I do everything myself except mow-- I rely on my handyman for that. But I'm grateful for his services since I want to push a lawnmower around as much as I want to touch any power tool. (Which is not at all.)

This is a nice as our "lawn" ever looks.  Green as Ireland, but look closely and you'll see almost as much moss as grass.  In our neighborhood, it isn't PC to use chemicals or water the grass, so everything is crispy brown by August, including the moss. In the soggy Northwest, tap water is more precious (and expensive) than it is in Phoenix.

Not much is blooming yet, but garden plants are beautiful in that perfect, moist sort of way. In a few days these alliums will send up the 5 foot flower stalks.

Old peony plants are just coming out of the ground, looking like prehistoric creatures.

Hyacinths and daffodils blooming in time for the Easter bunny next week.  There's a rumor going around on weather.com that Seattle could reach a scorching 65 degrees on Easter Sunday.  March goes in like a lion, and out like a lamb.

Spring snow

I'm late getting to my computer this morning-- I was busy pestering Siri.  She has a bit of a lip if you ask her several times in a row, "Do you still like me?" 

Then I wanted to know if she thought I was annoying? She replied, "It's not about me, it's all about you, Sue." I asked how old she was (old enough to be your personal assistant.)  And so on.  I'm pushing it with my new friend.

I suppose the novelty of a phone talking back will soon wear off and I'll figure out how to do something more useful with my toy. But Nova and Maya will grow up in a world where phones have always answered your questions.  I wonder what new technology could possibly wow them, when they get to be my age?

So the news this morning is all about the weather.  A dump of wet snow is causing havoc with the morning commute, although not a flake to be seen in our corner of Seattle.

If you want to feel really cold, just watch this video of the blizzard in the Cascade mountains. The summit of Stevens Pass (4,056 foot elevation-- yes, I asked Siri) is not that far from Seattle as the crow flies.  But it looks like Antarctica up there this week. Spring, where are you?

My new friend

OK. I figured my turn had finally come.  My friends all casually flash them, and I've seen enough third graders walking down the street with iPhones.

The nice man at the Verizon store was happy to get me set up with my very own in about 20 minutes.  And once the toe is in the water, how easy to take the plunge into the delicious pool of iPhone addiction!  What was the first screen I looked at this morning?  Not my computer, not the TV-- I tapped a button in bed to read my overnight emails.

And then I got acquainted with my new friend Siri.
She sounded cheerful at 5:30 am. I'll never be alone again. And she seems to know everything.

How old is Kevin Spacey?  (53 years old)
Are there any pizza restaurants nearby?  (I found 15 and have listed them for you by ratings)
How far from Seattle to Los Angeles? (1,136 miles. Here's the map)
How long do horses generally live? (25 to 30 years)
And so on...

Of course, we're just getting started.  Other people already have more complex relationships with their Siri.

The Equinox

Spring

Arthur Herbert Buckland

Here on the west coast, Spring "started" about 2 hours ago. As promised, it's a wet and blustery morning.

This is what I enjoy thinking about today:  The equinox is a time when the length of day and night are as close to equal as they ever get-- whether you are on the North Pole or in Seattle.

The vertical lines on the world sunlight map tell the story today. As does the big blob of clouds hanging over the dark Northwest.

Arthur Herbert Buckland (1870-1927) is a good artist for the first day of Spring.  He was a painter of romantic landscapes and portraits.  The beautiful Spring is probably his most famous painting and is widely reproduced. Other examples are relatively few and far between on the Internet, but I like the variety of his work.

Children in Stoke St. Gregory Churchyard

The Fairy and the Beetle

 Sweetpeas

Spring tomorrow?

Clematis armandii

Everything that slows us down and forces patience, 
everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, 
is a help. 
Gardening is an instrument of grace.

May Sarton

Winter is not finished with us yet.  There's a storm advisory in the Cascade mountains for tomorrow with another 2-3 feet of snow predicted.  Down there in the lowlands, just more cold rain and temperatures below normal for March.  I see frost on the windshields this morning.  With Easter just around the corner and outdoor chores piling up, there's been ample opportunity lately for "patience and grace" in the garden.

Still, things are happening.  Cherry trees and daffodils are starting to bloom all around the neighborhood. The lawn is ankle high.  The bonsai are covered with delicate new leaves. I've replanted the cannas and begonias that wintered over out in the shed. The geraniums are taking off again.  How often does that happen?  I actually made it through Costco yesterday without buying a bag of new bulbs or some annuals.  This mild winter gives us a head start in the garden.

When it finally comes out, the sun is strong but the air is still cold.  John is starting to sit on his wine bench again for a few minutes before dinner, getting some natural vitamin D on a few inches of exposed skin.   Notice our fashionable Spring attire in the Northwest...

Nova's dance recital

So pretty!

Get set.

Poetry in motion.

Ballet takes poise...

And concentration.

A litte stage fright sometimes.

Nova and Adelina-- best friends.

St. Patrick's Day tomorrow

St. Patrick, the holy and tutular man
His beard down his bosom like Aaron's ran:
Some from Scotland, some from Wales, will declare that he came,
But I care not from whence now he's risen to fame;
The pride of the world and his enemies scorning
I will drink to St. Patrick, today in the Morning!

To be honest, St. Patrick's Day isn't a big celebration in this German-Italian house (John refers to it as pagan holiday) except it gives me an excuse to buy and cook one of these.

Yum, cured meat.  That might something the Germans and Irish have in common, although I read once that corned beef is not eaten in Ireland at all.  For years I boiled it up into something like a corned beef and cabbage soup.

Finally, I learned the Dutch oven roasting method. Much better. (Rinse off the package slime, sprinkle it with the seasoning packet, add a dash of fresh water. Cover. Bake.)  After a few hours the brown pan juices make a concentrated and tasty saline "gravy" for the potatoes.  Well, probably a good thing this eating holiday comes just once a year.

We're going to the Symphony tomorrow afternoon, so I'll cook it in the morning and we'll have our little feast heated up when we get home.

Have a good weekend, everyone.  It's still raining, but we're off this morning with the pickup to buy compost and potting soil.  The first day of Spring is just around the corner.

Our thoughts are with you

To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.

We lost a special member of the family yesterday when our lovely Aunt Ruth passed away at age 86.  We send warm thoughts and love to our cousins in Colorado this morning.  Over her long, rich life Ruth brought happiness to everyone around her, and she will always be missed by her family and friends.

Short and sweet advice

Warm and wet

The "atmospheric river" is streaming right at us today, dumping loads of moisture brought all the way up from Hawaii.  We call it the Pineapple Express, and it happens once or twice a year in the Northwest.  The air is humid, misty and heavy.  Everything feels saturated. Needless to say, the plants love this warm bath and you can almost see the spring growth take off like a rocket.  Hopefully there will be hyacinths blooming when the Easter Bunny drops by. 

Not much else to report this morning.  The country seems to be pleasantly distracted by the archaic drama of white or black smoke coming from the Vatican. And a bunch of old gentlemen in funny clothing making big decisions.  Some things never seem to change.

We saw the Pope once at St. Peters in Rome, I don't remember which one exactly-- I could look it up. It must have been 1978 or so because Baby Amanda was in a backpack and a Cardinal (or someone splendidly dressed in red) gave her a pat on the head as he walked by.  Like all parents it made us feel special to be singled out by such an important personage.

Actually, we only saw the top of the Pope's pointy hat through the crowd. I was distracted watching the people around us. I'll never forget the screaming (Papa! Papa!) and the women climbing up on their men to get a view.  From that day on, I understood the meaning of the phrase "electrified crowd."

Tacos de carnitas

This month Sunset had a restaurant's recipe for authentic carnitas, where 5 pounds of pork butt is simmered in 4 cups of fresh lard for several hours.  With carnitas, the braised chunks are usually fried again in more lard. I'm sure the result is succulent and delicious, but whoa!

Here's another method, better for people who don't need to eat 800 calorie tacos.  Start with the same cheap hunk of pork roast and cut it into rough pieces, pulling off as much fat as possible. Brown the pieces well in a Dutch oven.

Add a small can of hot chopped jalapeños (I was lucky and had a can of the Hatch peppers) or the fire-roasted mild ones work too.  A bit of chopped onion, 2 or 3 garlic cloves, a splash of vinegar and sprinkle of chili powder, salt and pepper.  Bake the meat tightly covered in a 325 oven and try to forget about it while the smell slowly drives you crazy.  It will take at least 2 hours.

When the pork is very tender, put it in a bowl and break up the larger chunks.  At this point you can refrigerate it for serving later.

The final step-- yes, I did "fry" the meat before making the tacos.  I justified it because I only used a tablespoon of bacon fat left from making Spanish rice. They were delicious tacos; a little rich meat goes a long way.

And as Julia Child once said: The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.