Halloween at the White House

Did you catch this adorable picture on the news? A toddler dressed up in a "pope-mobile" pushed by his "secret service" dad. 

The Obama's handed out trick-or-treats to military families and the Pres declared the costume winner.

It's a stormy weekend in Seattle with lots of rain in the lowlands. Up on Mt Rainier, 10 feet of snow and 60 mph winds! Winter arrives in the Northwest mountains. 

Trick or treat

Princess Nova and Little Cow Maya

A dark and stormy weekend ahead for Seattle. 

Happy Halloween!

Ta-da

Now, that's what I call a fence.  Of course we need some landscaping, but I have all winter to think about it. That's the fun part.

So the long and painful bamboo saga is finally winding down...

 A desperate bamboo rhizome

The rhizomes that spread through the backyard seem to be getting the message. Since August, I've been cutting off every single shoot.  I'm on patrol daily with with my clippers and now the new growth looks tired and puny. Their monster, nourishing mother plants are dead and gone.

(Well, not dead, just gone-- they were carted off and replanted on other people's property.  Job security for the the bamboo removal company.)

Bruce the Bamboo Man said the roots should eventually give up and die. He did not define "eventually." He also said bamboo is unpredictable and never underestimate its lust for life.  We shall see if Spring brings new surprises to the Terrible yard.

It's interesting that the rhizomes are buckling and rising to the surface of the grass.  They don't look happy. When I'm snipping away, what comes to mind is a bunch of unhealthy snakes writhing around under there.  Yes, that is a nasty metaphor. 

"Is there anyone so wise as to learn from the experience of others?"

Voltaire

Pushing the limit

In Seattle, residential fences can be a maximum of 6 feet tall, not including a decorative top, such as lattice or arbor.

Most fence builders simply cement the wood fence posts below ground and call it a day. It takes a few years, but eventually they rot or warp, especially in this climate.  We've had more fences than I can count in 35 years of living here, some home-built jobs that did the trick for a while, and other professional jobs we paid good money for that just didn't last.

All-City Fence Co. uses a "post on pipe" construction method. A steel pipe is cemented 30+ inches into the ground, and the wood posts are bolted on top above ground.

As you can see, using longer pipe allows them to set the bottom of the boards a foot up, level with the alley, not the yard.  This makes a very tall fence indeed-- six foot plus one foot plus 18 inches of lattice, to be exact. But hopefully (unless an urban village busy-body complains) it's still perfectly legal along the alley grade. 

It's funny what a person can get used to.  Our little private garden world was exposed for months, and now it feels odd to be suddenly closed in again.  Quite honestly,  looking up from the yard level this feels a bit like the Berlin Wall!
But looking out from the deck and kitchen window, it's perfect. When they finish up today, all we'll see is the tops of houses.

And now I have an interesting landscaping challenge! 

Fence me in. Please.

I was looking forward to posting new fence pictures this morning. I hung around the house all day yesterday waiting for the fence company. The day had finally arrived!  Then at 2 pm, I get the phone call saying they were behind schedule and couldn't make it.  Why am I not surprised?  They promised they would come this morning. I'll believe it when I see it.

In the meantime, here's a fun video Amanda took of Nova's first barrel race (or I should say, pumpkin race) riding speedy "Homer."

Way to go, Nova!  I'll show you this again in 10 years, when you're racing the barrels at the Methow Valley Rodeo.

E.O.G.

Statler and Waldorf

We've been watching the TV series "Portlandia" on Netflix, the comedy show that makes fun of the city of Portland, Oregon.  Just like Seattle, there's plenty of satire material in Portland, especially lampooning the hipster culture.

The show stars Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen, who play different stereotypical Portland characters. In the episode called "Health Care"  Fred and Carrie (playing themselves) seek medical advice for a series of vague ailments. Then Fred is diagnosed with E.O.G. or "early onset grumpiness."  He hates the Urban Village: crowds, street markets, silly festivals and standing in line for breakfast.  When they leave the house, he shouts things like "Who ARE all these people?"  

Well, I took that to heart somewhat, since I'm showing signs of E.O.G. myself. All the things that were once fairly simple, like going to the grocery store or post office have become stressful and difficult, navigating multiple construction zones, threading through congested streets and parking in a garage, just to pick up a carton of milk.  I suppose I could walk six blocks.  In any other big city, I'd think nothing of it.

I came home the other day and declared that "elevators in grocery stores should be made illegal!"  Anyway, I have to watch it or I'll become just another old lady who goes around looking like Grumpy Cat. 

But here's something to smile about on this rainy Monday morning.  After so many delays and frustrations, our new fence (to keep out the urban village) is going up today.
Or, so they say...

Hey Dad and Mom

Marge and Sam

Out for lunch yesterday
Bronco Billy's Casino

I'm home! It was great seeing you.

After freezing fog, wet snow and generally yucky weather in Cripple Creek, Colorado finally put on a happy face when I left this morning.

It was a sparkling bright sun-glasses-required drive back down to the airport in Colorado Springs. Pikes Peak was beautiful with the first big snow of the season.

And hey, thank you Alaska Airlines (if you're listening) for the new 12:10 PM direct flight from Colorado Springs all the way to Seattle. Who cares about that small plane?  It flies. Hope you fill it up soon.

First thing I did when I got home was attack the bamboo shoots and cut some roses. Then we called out for pizza and settled in to watch the Buckeyes.

Up on Cripple Creek

The weather has certainly been a mixed bag.  A slushy, sloppy snow fell yesterday morning, but by afternoon the roads were bare and dry.  Now the sun is out for the first time, but more snow is predicted for tonight.  Of course!  I have to drive down to the Colorado Springs airport tomorrow morning. Winter has arrived at high elevation and it won't rain in Cripple Creek again until June.

Dad and I did a few errands yesterday and stopped at the Cripple Creek Heritage Center, a first class museum and interpretive center on the hill outside town. For some reason, I'd never been there.

It's a beautiful building with great views of Cripple Creek far below. There are interesting exhibits about historic mining and Colorado natural history.

Sam meets Jurassic World

After that, a sobering drive on the back road from Cripple Creek to Victor. Pictures really can't do justice to the massive scale of the gold mining operations.  This area was once lovely high county meadows and forests.

Hey, what happened to my pasture?

If you grind an entire mountain into rubble and then pour cyanide on the top, some gold will eventually leach out the bottom.  It's that simple.

Take your picture. Then turn around 360 degrees to see what we've lost forever.

Changes

This is our parent's original home in Cripple Creek...

And here's a picture I took yesterday of where it once stood.  Change is inevitable, but driving by there still gives me a pang.

A few years after gambling was legalized in Cripple Creek, their old house was torn down to make way for a giant casino called The Wildwood. The sleepy, semi-derelict mountain town my parents choose for retirement was gone.  They moved to a new house in another part of town, but we all have fond memories of their original home in the bird-filled meadow.

When Coloradans voted in 1991 to allow gambling in three mountain towns, they were led to believe that "limited-stakes gaming" didn't mean Las Vegas style casinos.  The state would supposedly use the tax revenue from a few slot machines for historic preservation, and Black Hawk, Central City and Cripple Creek would be revived.

Of course that tuned out to be nonsense, and outside money soon poured into these small towns. In Black Hawk, there was plenty of room to build, and big glitzy casinos erased the historical town.

Cripple Creek Bennett Avenue
(yesterday)

I think Cripple Creek fared better. Much of the credit goes to our Dad and his colleagues serving on the City Council in the 1990's.  They put into place strict regulations to preserve the historic structures and prohibit new outdoor neon lights.

Along Bennett Avenue, the crumbling brick buildings were gutted, expanded and joined to create picturesque gambling "storefronts."  Once you step inside however, you'll find yourself in a cacophony of lights and noise like a miniature Las Vegas casino.  It's a jarring juxtaposition behind the facade of an old Cripple Creek.

The Cripple Creek marketing campaigns show beautiful young people, but the typical Cripple Creek gambler is a senior citizen and conservative player. Sound familiar?

Well, I'm drinking coffee and watching the snow flurries this morning.  It's much prettier than the fog and cold drizzle we had yesterday.  The top of Pikes Peak is getting good dump of snow, which should be a spectacular sight when the weather finally improves and sun comes out. That will happen (of course) when I leave on Saturday.

Knock, knock

Old Man Winter hasn't quite arrived in the Colorado high country, but he's sure knocking at the door. I missed the aspen's beautiful show, so it was a bonus to see a few golden trees left along the road when I drove the last 20 miles from Divide to Cripple Creek. I stopped to take this picture and the sky was dry and cloudy.

But the weather has a real bad attitude, like:  "I'll probably rain today, but I'll snow when I darn well feel like it." The transition between seasons is pretty abrupt up here at 10,000 elevation.

The guest connection at the casino hotel is slow, although I can't imagine there's much competition for the Internet service.  I heard doors closing after midnight and doubt anyone else is up this early tapping away on a laptop. (Insomnia is one of the short term effects of rapid high altitude adjustment.)

Anyway, my trip couldn't have gone better yesterday.  However, at various check-in counters they asked if I was "traveling alone."  Maybe I've entered the age when people treat you like an un-escorted kid?  Ha!  Might as well take advantage of AARP generation perks and move to the head of the line.

The folks are doing well and look good. It was wonderful seeing them waiting for me yesterday afternoon.  We have some simple but enjoyable things planned for the next few days, but will mostly enjoy spending time together.

Up, down, and then up again

I'm flying to Cripple Creek early tomorrow morning.   Or to be more correct, I'm flying to Colorado Springs, and then driving up to that familiar ole' mining town on the back side of Pikes Peak.  I'm looking forward to visiting my parents for a few days. 

Also, time for the first hit of winter in the Rocky Mountains, so I'll bring snow.  Pick the month, it doesn't matter when I go to Colorado-- February, May, April, September, October-- it snows. The ski areas should fly me around for free!

Anyway, if the Internet gods are favorable I'll check in later in week. 

For a Sunday morning

 A lovely short video from Olympic National Park.  Just across the water, but so far away from Seattle.

The one road...

Now

What can l say, now that summer’s gone,
with the weight of its heat,
its thick blanket of humidity,
the cacophony of zinnias, marigolds, salvia?
Now the sky is clear blue and cloudless, that sure one-note
that can only mean October. You’re gone.
The leaves turn gold
in the calendar’s rotisserie, giving up their green,
and the burning bushes
have ignited, struck their book of matches.
It’s enough to make the heart break,
isn’t it?
We keep going down the one road,
there’s no turning back.

By, Barbara Crooker

Blondies

Nova and her friend Ingrid

Aren't they cute?  And Nova has two loose teeth, so she's ready for a great Halloween smile like Ingrid.   We're looking forward to seeing Amanda, Nova and Maya on Friday.  They're coming to Seattle for a big weekend play date with their cousins.

Tempus fugit

The repair a.k.a money pit

Oh, Bertha.  Has it really been two years since you blew out under the Seattle waterfront?  It's taken that long to dig an access pit, haul you to the surface, figure out what broke (more than they thought) and then make repairs.  Your front end is still in pieces along the waterfront and the new start date to resume digging is November 23, which is three months after the goal set by Seattle Tunnel Partners.  Well, what's another delay?

Even the lawsuits are delayed.  Washington DOT announced they are suing the tunnel contractors for "failing to fulfill its obligations."  They said this lawsuit will spare the taxpayers from having to pick up the tab, although I guess we'll be paying for the lawyers.  Anyway, we won't know for some time how this turns out. For the sake of "cooperation" during construction, the state asked the courts not to hear the case until the tunnel is done. 

March 2018 is now slated for the grand opening for traffic to enter the four-lane, tolled (of course)  Highway 99 tunnel.

Here in Seattle we are trying to be optimistic, but once Bertha is back in the ground and the pit is filled over, there isn't a contingency plan if she jams or breaks again.  Bertha has only tunneled 1,019 ft or 11%, of the total 9,270 ft. We still have a long way to go before we drive through our fancy new tunnel.

 

Rescue dog

I found this beautiful guy at the Goodwill, and not even the regular Goodwill.  I rescued him from their outlet store where stuff is sold by the pound.  This is where the donations go that aren't good enough to sell in the main store. I'd never been there before and will probably never go again, but I was passing by and went in out of curiosity.

At the Goodwill Outlet everything is thrown willy-nilly on tables. Customers paw through and then their bags are weighed and priced at the cash register on the way out.

What a place!  Some people were sitting on the floor guarding their huge piles of stuff. Were they just resting, or waiting for new shipments to be dumped on the tables?  I noticed the smart shoppers were wearing masks and gloves, so they must have been regulars.  Oh yes, and the smell was that familiar Goodwill smell, times ten. 

It probably seems out of character that I would take anything to my fussy clean house from such a place.

But how could I resist this spotless stuffed dog?  And how did he ever wind up at the Outlet? He's an expensive Melissa and Doug brand toy. There isn't even a smudge of dirt on his WHITE feet, for heaven sakes.  And of course he looks just like "Roger" our favorite family Aussie.

I think he weighed in at about $1.29.
Nova and Maya will love him.

Here's some photos of the feeding frenzy:

Weekend news

Taking out the bamboo grove was a hit to our bird habitat, and the back yard is empty and silent. We're still waiting for a new fence, which will at least give the human inhabitants here an illusion of security and sense of enclosure. I'm tired of looking at the alley and a tall fence should block most of that "view" of cars and concrete.

But everything takes so long.  With the urban village building boom going on in West Seattle, the contractors get around to small projects on their own sweet time.  I have to remind myself it's only been two months, but it feels like much longer.

Fortunately, in the front yard we still have the laurel hedge, palm, overgrown shrubs and the big holly tree, which the birds especially love. I put a sunflower seed feeder up and was surprised at the number of different birds when I was out working early on Sunday morning: Chickadees, red-breasted nuthatch, juncos, finches, towhees, wrens, white-crowned sparrows etc.

So the birds haven't all deserted us, just moved their business to a different part of the yard.  A fat squirrel climbed right up that slippery thin pole (how do they do that?)  then gave me a dirty look when he fell off.  I'm sure he'll figure it out.

Not much happened this weekend.  I'm slowly working on garden clean up and carting leaves over from across the street to mulch the beds.  John came down with a cold, which I hope he doesn't give me, because I'm going to Colorado next week.

Yesterday the Seahawks gave up an impressive early lead and then lost to the Bengals in overtime, which is always more depressing than just a plain old loss.

After the game I went to the monthly SUPA meetin' and it cheered me up, strumming and singing "Beer Barrel Polka" and "Monster Mash" with a hundred other enthusiastic ukulele players.  Driving across town, the city seemed subdued. We had chicken soup for Sunday dinner, and now the new week starts.

Today is Columbus Day, except in Seattle, where it is called "Indigenous People's Day" by order of our Mayor. He signed a proclamation last year changing the name.

Tis the season

After such a hot summer, it's nice to be doing some fall cooking-- braising and roasting, making soups, stews and baked desserts. I think I went to the grocery store every day this week, including a stop at Trader Joe's. Those colorful outside displays are like a magnet.

I told John at dinner last night that I seem to be thinking about cooking and eating all the time!  He said that was just fine with him, as he tucked into a pile of chicken curry covered with chutney, cashews and peaches.

These adorable individual casseroles are from the Ben Frankin store in Monroe. I stopped there when I went up to the quilt retreat.  I wish we had a store like that in Seattle. It's impossible to pass up something so cute and BLUE, but what to do with them? 

They are perfect for baked apples, a wholesome dessert (if you don't get too carried away with the butter and sugar and ice cream and brandy :-)   This is simple to make, although you need one of those clever apple corers to hollow out the inside.  These are Fuji apples, not too tart, not too sweet. Peel them about half way down and stuff the inside with raisins, walnuts and brown sugar.  Then sprinkle with cinnamon and put a pat of butter on top. Bake covered until very soft.

Ice cream, whipped cream, cool whip or just plain? Your choice.
 
OK I'm already thinking about dinner tonight. Barbecue pork with biscuits, spinach salad and baked squash. I'm headed to the gym for water aerobics class or I'll soon be as round as one of those pumpkins!

Have a great weekend.

Happy Birthday, Maya

Our Maya is three years old today.  Where does the time go?