Hydrangeas

The fluffy blue hydrangea flowers usually just turn brown after they bloom, but occasionally they'll semi-dry on the bush in these gorgeous autumn shades.  I don't know what kind of weather causes it.  After so many fresh flowers all summer it's fun to scrounge around and cut a few special last bouquets.The prettiest of the year, in some ways.

I don't garden-think much in the summer, because I'm too busy keeping up with watering and weeding. But yesterday I noticed there's only a few plants still alive from when we first moved here, over 30 years ago.  The indestructible laurel hedge, of course; an enormous holly tree that once blew over but sprouted back from the stump (I guess that counts) and a couple of scrawny hydrangea bushes that have survived decades of pruning abuse and water neglect. They may be in the twilight of their years.  Once Amanda and her little friends would pretend they were cheerleaders with the ripped off pom-poms, there were so many.

Other than those relics, everything else in this rampant yard, including a fine selection of invasive species, was planted over the years by Yours Truly.  I've lived long enough to see sticks turn into immense trees, shrubs and bamboo thickets. 

P. Allen Smith (known as the Martha Stewart of the South) has a method (of course) for drying hydrangeas.   Sorry, Allen--  I think Nature still does it best in a dry lucky summer.

Urban flooding

The fairies moved out of their garden home just in time. Flooded. Saturday was the wettest September day on record in Seattle. In November, an inch and a half of rain isn't too unusual, but in September it breaks records.  Totals were even more impressive further south, and nearly 3 inches fell in Olympia.  Out on the soggy peninsula near Potlatch in Mason County, they reported 7 inches of rain -- just an estimate, because that's all the gauge could hold before it overflowed.

Sunday afternoon in Seattle. Still raining.

The fairies have gone inside

 The best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born.  

The odd uneven time.

-Sylvia Plath

This past summer, record dry in Seattle, took countless gallons of expensive water to grow flowers like this. (Actually, someone was counting the gallons, in order to send us a big water bill.)  Now we're in for free water, big time.  Just look at this wet and windy blob out in the Pacific, headed our way.

A couple of powerful wet Pacific storms for late September will
impact the region this weekend. The Saturday system will unload
heavy rain on much of the area... especially on the southwest
facing slopes of the mountains. Another storm will quickly follow
on its heels on Sunday for more heavy rain. Total rainfall amounts
of 4 to 8 inches are predicted for the mountains during the two-
day period... with 1.5 to 3 inches anticipated across much of The
Lowlands.
Read more at http://www.wunderground.com/US/WA/508.html#025GSDiuGxth6mYs.99

A couple of powerful wet Pacific storms for late September will
impact the region this weekend. The Saturday system will unload
heavy rain on much of the area... especially on the southwest
facing slopes of the mountains. Another storm will quickly follow
on its heels on Sunday for more heavy rain. Total rainfall amounts
of 4 to 8 inches are predicted for the mountains during the two-
day period... with 1.5 to 3 inches anticipated across much of The
Lowlands.
Read more at http://www.wunderground.com/US/WA/508.html#025GSDiuGxth6mYs.99In a dry summer, it takes countless gallons of expensive Seattle water to grow flowers like this. (Actually, someone was counting the gallons, and sent us a big water bill.) Now we're in for some free water. Just look at that wet, windy blob out in the Pacific, headed our way this weekend. 

It's unusual to have major storms here in September. It usually happens later, in November. According to the weather experts, over the next few days we'll get a similar amount of rainfall as Colorado did a few weeks ago.  The rivers will rise and possibly flood, but the damage will be far less because the rain will come slowly and our terrain is used to heavy precipitation. No kidding. Still they expect to break some daily rainfall records.

The fairies have moved into the shed for the winter-- their garden is empty and ready for Mary and Joseph's arrival in December.

I did a back-breaking, marathon clean-up in the big bed one morning last week.  Coming back from vacation, after a few weeks of neglect, it had never looked worse.  Invasives spreading everywhere, bad grass sprouting in good grass, rotting things, falling over dahlias, dead flowers, etc.

All gone. Well,  at least it's a "neat" ugly now.  But I have to get the beds mulched or the weeds will grow right back.  For those of you who don't live here, Seattle is very green in the winter. There's only a few weeks when bad things stop growing.

I'm going to splurge and call Mr Le next week to see if he can bring a big load of compost mulch and have his boys spread it around.  I just don't have the energy for the leaf hauling thing this year...

A couple of powerful wet Pacific storms for late September will
impact the region this weekend. The Saturday system will unload
heavy rain on much of the area... especially on the southwest
facing slopes of the mountains. Another storm will quickly follow
on its heels on Sunday for more heavy rain. Total rainfall amounts
of 4 to 8 inches are predicted for the mountains during the two-
day period... with 1.5 to 3 inches anticipated across much of The
Lowlands.
Read more at http://www.wunderground.com/US/WA/508.html#025GSDiuGxth6mYs.99

A couple of powerful wet Pacific storms for late September will
impact the region this weekend. The Saturday system will unload
heavy rain on much of the area... especially on the southwest
facing slopes of the mountains. Another storm will quickly follow
on its heels on Sunday for more heavy rain. Total rainfall amounts
of 4 to 8 inches are predicted for the mountains during the two-
day period... with 1.5 to 3 inches anticipated across much of The
Lowlands.
Read more at http://www.wunderground.com/US/WA/508.html#025GSDiuGxth6mYs.9

Maya and Nova

These pictures could break the cute-o-meter!  They were taken by Uncle Bill last weekend...

Muscle memory

Learning to play an instrument is hard and humbling.  A lot of people believe the brain isn't as "plastic" in older people, and the prime window for learning is long gone.  So why bother?  In reality, the brain is still able to change at any age.  It may not be as easy to learn something at 60, but it can be done.  Children's brains are forming, but adults have to work with the brain cells they have left, and create new connections, or synapses, between them.  Playing music is fun, and great mental exercise-- they say it keeps brain cells alive that would otherwise wither and die.

But at first it feels like you're trying to learn Chinese and ice skate at the same time. Hunched over that ukulele (or any instrument) you're using fine hand muscles and most of your senses. And your brain is working really hard: reading the notes, counting out the rhythm and trying to keep a steady beat and make it sound something like the simple melody you've known your entire life.  I think it helps if you're willing to settle for less than virtuosity, but for many of us, the tendency is to just give up when we can't be really good.  But here's a reason to keep practicing:

Lutz Jäncke, a psychologist at the University of Zurich, said: "Learning to play a musical instrument has definite benefits and can increase IQ by seven points, in both children and adults.

We found that even in people over the age of 65 after four or five months of playing a instrument for an hour a week there were strong changes in the brain. The parts of the brain that control hearing, memory, and the part that controls the hands among others, all become more active. Essentially the architecture of the brain changes."

My ukulele didn't go along on vacation, and I missed my hour or so of daily practice. And I wondered, after taking time off, would it be like starting over again? Surely I would just give up!  I read a Wiki article saying that "motor memory" has two stages, and the first stage of learning is fragile. I'd been trying so hard. Maybe too hard?  But it must have actually helped to suspend effort for a bit, because I was surprised that I could play all my ditties as well (or maybe even better) after a week off.  There is something mystical about learning. Maybe our brains sometimes need a little vacation to sort it out? 

 

Horse moves

We moved Spanky and Skeeter to a new barn this month, called Elk Run.  It's a small peaceful place with only 7 horses, a few miles east on I-90 from Snoqualmie, where we boarded for many years.  It is a big change for all of us. They don't call it Elk Run for nothing, because hardly a day goes by when you don't see these enormous creatures enjoying the free amenities of a horse farm, like pasture and left-over hay.  Elk can jump over a 6 foot fence in the blink of an eye.

Moving horses can be hard, but they all seem relaxed in their new home and soon got used to having other big herbivores hanging around.  The only problem with elk is they like to jump out on the trail and startle your horse. Eek!

Speaking of trails, enticing ones like this lead off the property into the wilderness.  Elk Run is only 20 miles from the summit of Snoqualmie Pass, and a strong rider with a good sense of direction could go all the way to eastern Washington.  A mighty cold and wet ride in the winter.  Dolly and I are content with short loops near the barn.

And last but not least.  September 25th is the third bittersweet anniversary, and the day when memories of my irreplaceable old partner are especially vivid.  Below is a wonderful horse poem, published in the New Yorker magazine a while back.

Sizzle, Amanda (and Nova!)

Equine aubade
by Bob Hicok

Consider how smart
smart people say horses are.
I love waking
to a field of such intelligence, only pigs
more likely to go to MIT, only dew
harboring the thoughts of clouds
upon the grass and baptizing
the cuffs of my pants as I walk
among the odes. Long nose
of a thousand arrows
bound together in breath, each flank
a continent of speed, this one
quiet as a whisper
into a sock, this one
twitchy as a sleeper
dreaming the kite string
to her shadow has snapped. Old now
to my ways, they let me touch
their voltage, the bustling waves
of atoms conscripted to their form, this one
even allowing my ear to her side
so I can elope
with her heartbeat. I often feel
everything is applause, an apparition
of the surprise of existence,
that the substances of life
aren't copper and lithium, fire
and earth, but the gasp
and its equivalents, as when rain falls
on a hot road
and summer sighs. Or the poem
feels that, it's hard to tell
my mind from the poem's, the real
from the lauded horses, there's always
this dualism, this alienation
of word from word
or time from thrust
or window from greed. I am eager
to ride a horse out of the field, out of language,
out of the county
and to the sea, where whichever one of us
is the better swimmer
will take over, in case you see a horse
on the back of a man
from where you are
on your boat, looking at the horizon
in the late and dawdling company
of a small but faithful star. 

Fall arrives

Seattle's Big Wheel

Make much of something small.
The pouring-out of tea,
a drying flower's shadow on the wall
from last week's sad bouquet.
A fact: it isn't summer any more.

From Bounty
by Robyn Sarah

Old Faithful of California

 

Our luxury transport to and from Santa Rosa was a hard-working Bombardier.  Probably not known for quiet comfort, this small plane plies up and down the west coast for Alaska Airlines. Well, everything arrived in one piece, including us. We got home a bit later than expected but as they say, a good landing is one you walk away from. By the time we took the train from N Concourse, John's wine boxes were waiting at the oversize baggage area with the car seats and coolers. Then, a merry hunt began for our suitcases on changing carousels. Good old SeaTac.

Boarding the plane in Santa Rosa, we noticed that smart people "gate check" their big bags and then pick them up right on the tarmac, thus avoiding both the $20 fee and a trudge to baggage claim.  But we finally got ourselves all collected, and soon a teenage taxi driver was speeding us home.

Home harvest

It rained on our grapes all week, but I doubt the raccoons will be too picky about sugar content.These grapes (white concords?) are a weird mixture of sweet, sour and seedy.  No, I've never done anything useful with them.

Useful grapes arriving at Sterling Winery

A good rain fell in the Napa Valley the morning we left, which was unfortunate at harvest time but probably not enough to seriously damage the crop. Anyway, a happy marketing spin is put on every vintage.  But I'm sure some vineyard managers felt smug for safely picking and crushing a few days earlier. We watched a steady stream of trucks arriving at Sterling Winery.

And now, a first! I've figured out how to post iPhone videos to the blog.  That means you might soon be treated to my jerky home movies of Maya and Nova!

But for the thrilling debut, here's our favorite Calistoga tourist attraction, a great spot for a picnic and loafing around in the sun waiting for the "eruption."  This riveting short is the  Old Faithful Geyser of California and John taking a picture of the Old Faithful Geyser of California-- it's one of only three "clockwork geysers" in the world.

Goodbye Wine Land

We're headed home this afternoon.  Actually at this moment we're hanging around in the little Santa Rosa Charles Schultz County airport, waiting for the plane to arrive that will take us to Seattle (two hours late and counting, but things are starting to look up.)  The complimentary wine boxes are checked and we'll be heading into the cute security area shortly.

There were some unusual heavy showers this morning in Calistoga that did not keep us out of the mineral pool for a final dip,  but did make us look like steaming wet rats.  Well, I suppose I should speak for myself.  After a week of non-stop indulgence we're  feeling pretty relaxed.   Tomorrow is the first day of fall, and the first storm of the season expected in Seattle.  Sounds like an afternoon for football and home cooking.

Wine time

"Oh, for a draught of vintage!
that hath been cool'd a long age 
in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green
Dance, and provincial song, and sunburnt mirth,
Oh, for a beaker of the warm South..."

John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale

Mile after mile of vineyards hang with lush, valuable fruit as we drive by in the hot sun.  Each vine here produces 4-6 bottles of wine, with an average retail price of $52.69 in the Napa Valley. It was about 90 degrees today and great for final ripening, but there's a possibility of a little rain on Saturday.  Rain is bad news at harvest time.  Almost as bad as hard freeze a bud break, according to my wine expert traveling companion. Describing it in crude terms, the parched grapes are happy to slurp up water in September, bloating up and ruining a growing season of carefully condensed sugars and the fruit essence needed for fine wine.  It's easy to forget this place is about agriculture on the most basic level. Mother Nature is in charge.

Anyway.  I'd write more tonight but I've been sitting here for an hour and the wireless connection is primitive-- there's only so many hummingbirds I can look at while waiting 20 minutes for a photo to load.  Mineral water is calling. Stories and photos later.
Love from Wine Land.




 

Lunch at the Godfather's

The morning started with a trip to the local coffee shop, then a walk through a stone labyrinth across the street.  John went around the entire thing twice in the time it took me to go once.  Some people are just more efficient meditators, I guess.

We decided to head up the road to Sonoma County and made some stops at old familiar places.  The Italian Swiss Colony was once a Disneyland of Wine in the 1970's, just off Highway 101 near Asti, but very little remains of the original except a historic plaque and some crumbling buildings.

There's a different winery on the site now, but the property is still beautiful and natural. I found a "neglected" arbor and helped myself to a snack of ripe grapes. It has a more agricultural feel in Sonoma County, so different than the ritzy and congested Napa Valley.

We had the place to ourselves...then back on 101 for a very different experience--The Francis Ford Coppola destination winery.  It's not "just" a winery, but a living shrine to a great living genius, filled with artifacts from his life and movies.  I wonder who his archivist is? You can hang out for the day, rent a pool cabana, eat, shop, drink to your heart's content or until your wallet is empty. Think of it like an Italian Swiss Colony for the new century. 

A fancy lunch outdoors, and an important picture of Marlon Brando's desk from the Godfather movie. By then we were starting to miss Calistoga and headed back over the mountains to the Napa Valley. 

A final stop and look at the Clos Pegase Winery art collection.  This is an old favorite place of ours near Calistoga,  but the winery was just sold,and the art will not be going along to the new owners. So this may be the last time we get to see "our thumb."

Mud baths, and such

This isn't me, but you get the picture.  I was happy to see my favorite bath attendant Trina this morning, and we remembered each other from past visits to Dr. Wilkenson's.  All I'm going to say is, hauling yourself out of the mud is not a pretty (nor co-ed) sight, but Trina has seen it all.  John hit the wine trail for two hours while I was buried, bubbled, steamed, wrapped, rested, released.  Ah.

After that, John suggested lunch at the CIA (Culinary Institute of America) bakery.  What a good idea!  Except there were no parking places left in the lot. So we lined up for hamburgers after a traffic jam in St Helena.  That's the Napa Valley in September.

Then on to Sterling Winery-- the starting point being a fun gondola ride up the mountain.  The thing hanging on my neck is the "silver pass" entitling us to a special tasting on the very top deck.

I have never been to Greece, but guess I really don't need to go after this.  Sterling was modeled on a Greek Island, and maybe even better, because we were treated like royalty instead of tourists.  Between you and me, I think it might have to do with the "wow effect" of John's white Panama hat.

Enjoying the tasting...

And the best views of the Napa Valley.

And down below, real work going on with the crush coming in.  Someone has to do the work so the rest of us can drink wine all year.

First 48 hours

Hard to believe, but we've been coming back to Dr. Wilkenson's Motel in Calistoga for over 20 years now.  The warm mineral pools are always about the same, and a couple of dunkings is all it takes to shake off the trip down from Seattle. We don't have wireless in our bungalow, so I'm sitting the courtyard now watching the hummingbirds, which is a lot nicer while blogging than staring out the window at a wet hedge.

Here's John, enjoying the retro indoor therapy pool...

Our first full day was Sunday, and the Napa Valley was hopping with visitors up from the Bay area.  The highway was bumper to bumper. Eating lunch at Mustard's Grill is a treat, and we got an early table.  They call it "classic American truck stop food."  Ha, what a menu! Decisions, decisions...

This would win the prize in any Seafood Tostada contest.

But John says the creme brulee is the best thing going at Mustard's Grill.

After lunch, a lazy stop at the historic Inglenook Winery, one of my favorite places remembered from the rough old 70's, now owned by Francis Ford Coppola. Nothing rustic about it these days...bring lots of money if you set foot in the gift shop. 

 Another day, another gorgeous winery.  This is Chateau Montelena, just outside Calistoga.  They're famous for what is known as the "Judgement of Paris" when Montelena's California Chardonnay whipped a bunch of fancy French whites in a blind tasting.  The rest is history, and the owner now flies over his kingdom,  supervising from his helicopter.  John got us tickets to a vineyard tour there this morning, and a sweet young man drove us through the fields in a golf cart.

Beautiful views on a perfect morning, and complimentary grapes to sample.

We'll take it!

Going in style

We have a non-stop flight to Santa Rosa, California, on Alaska Airlines. This should be a treat, compared to flying into Oakland International, then driving 60 white-knuckle miles up to the Napa Valley like we usually do. 

If the aviation gods are favorable, the flight will plunk us down in the early evening, about a 20 mile scenic drive from Dr.Wilkinson's in Calistoga, at the north end of the valley.  Fire up the mud bath! 

We will be flying south in one of these little things: 

 In comfy seats seats that look like this:

Well. There won't be a doting stewardess lighting cigars, but Alaska does allow each passenger on this flight to bring a case of wine back to Seattle.  Wow. When was the last time you got anything "free" from an airline?

I'm traveling low-tech, but hope to check in next week on the blog with some vacation pictures if John lends me his laptop.  If you don't hear anything for a few days, just assume I've turned into a lazy wet noodle from sitting in hot mineral water and mud. Ciao!