A little break

Here's a nice 10-minute break from stress and reality.  This time lapse was filmed by photographer Stephanie Campbell.

You can also watch it full screen by clicking HERE for Scott Sistek's excellent Northwest weather blog.

Some of the locations include:

• Snoqualmie Falls
• Snoqualmie Pass area trails
• Blewett Pass
• Mount St. Helens
• Orcas Island/San Juans
• Whidbey Island and Deception Pass
• Along the Columbia River near Orondo, WA
• Dryden,WA
• Ocean Shores

Turkey antidote

Frying up a steak indoors is no big trick, but finishing it with a nice reduction sauce is a little extra challenge and work.  The work part is cleaning the gosh-darn stove afterwards because the wine and grease splatter everywhere in a fine haze.

When I still had my Viking I made reduction sauces all the time. Maybe I had more energy then. It was also quicker because the burners ran like blow torches.  It was also great for searing meat and it had a thrilling hot infrared broiler.  I have never gotten over my love affair with that professional stove. But you know the story-- the Viking was overpowered for my little galley of a kitchen.

My current gas range doesn't have that kind of oomph, but I don't worry as much about burning down the house.  It does all the same things, you just need a little more patience.  For a steak, I heat my indestructible cast iron skillet on the hottest burner for at least 10 minutes.  (This is not a job for your fine cookware.)

I like my steak medium-rare and John likes medium-well, so I shoot for the middle ground.  Yes, we share a big steak between us and try not to fight. The cook gets the bone. Those days of gobbling down one apiece are over.


After the steak was cooked and resting, I added about 1/3 bottle of red wine and let it boil down until it was almost syrupy...

Then threw in a handful of finely chopped parsley and scallion....

Finally, a big pat of butter. The magic finish in all reductions.

When all is said and done, you'll wind up with about  quarter cup of delicious glaze. And a big mess, of course.  But worth it, once in a long while.

Ho, ho, ho

Amanda sent this picture of the family visiting Santa. They were in Winthrop this weekend for the annual "Christmas at the End of the Road" festivities, a country cowboy event with bonfires and a night hot air balloon glow.

This is the first Santa picture where someone isn't crying or covering their eyes in fear.   When I asked Maya about that on the phone she said, "Nana, only babies do that."  So true. Our little ones grow up too fast.

And here's those big girls out for a Thanksgiving day walk with friends.  From Nova's expression it looks like winter has arrived in the Methow Valley. 

A little Christmas

I've scaled back the Christmas decorations this year. We have different holiday plans and the kids won't come over to Seattle as usual.  We'll miss Christmas morning with the little girls, but Amanda and Tom are looking forward to a cozy Christmas at home for a change.  Who can blame them?  They always make a long, tiring drive on Christmas Eve to get here in time for Santa Claus. 

Anyway, the 10+ tubs of decorations are staying up in the attic.  Skipping a year might make us appreciate that stuff all the more next time. So far I only miss my old nativity sets, the funny elves and John's favorite (gaudy) candle holders. Other than that...

Still it seemed sad doing nothing to brighten the house with a few cheerful new things, which of course was a nice excuse to go shopping. 

John kinda sniffed at the fake tabletop tree I found at True Value for $20.  He's spoiled!  A Christmas tree doesn't always have to be a 8-foot messy fir covered with hundreds of ornaments and thousands of lights.  A full days' work for the decorator, I might add.  This one took about 20 minutes to set up and I think it looks pretty on the side table.

Also a new set of battery operated candles from Costco, complete with remote control.  I'll buy a poinsettia next week and call it done.  Hey, I could get used to this.

We had a nice Thanksgiving with delicious food, fine wine and interesting conversation. Thank you Julie for the wonderful meal, not to mention the 40-pound bag of leftovers including the turkey carcass. I couldn't cram all the bones in the pressure cooker, so I simmered them in my biggest pot with every vegetable in the fridge.  Today I have a wonderful broth all ready for turkey noodle soup.

Last night we were all turkied out, so I made a vegetarian pizza and we ate the rest of Mary's kale salad. The weekend of food continues.  I'm going to the gym this morning.  I might not want to be home while John watches the Ohio State-Michigan game.  There could be a lot of swearing.

Happy Thanksgiving

"Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Winter roses and cranberry chutney

It's been so warm the roses are still covered in flowers and buds. I was outside with the weed-eater cutting bamboo (again!) yesterday.  We haven't had a night below 40 degrees yet. 

But now the latest weather prediction is for "colder than usual" in late December and January with a good chance of lowland snow. It's been several years since our last snow.  Snow is considered a natural catastrophe in Seattle and shuts the city down.

We have a friend from Ohio visiting around Christmas, and he usually brings along an exciting weather event like an epic windstorm, heavy snow, etc. (Sorry Mark, but history proves this true.) 

Speaking of snow, there's a storm coming this weekend with a good dump for the mountains.  That's good news for the snow pack, not so much for cross-state travel. Our little family is staying home this year, and although we'll miss them I'm glad they won't make that arduous night drive across the passes. 

John and I are looking forward to having Thanksgiving dinner with friends in Redmond. What a treat just making some fun stuff: cheesecake, Pennsylvania Dutch potato dressing (Grammy Bleam style) and cran-apple chutney from an old Sunset magazine recipe.

I make it every year and it's a good condiment on both turkey and ham. And it makes the house smell delicious.

1 Granny Smith apple, chopped
1 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup chopped onion
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup cider vinegar
1 tbs. mustard seed
1 tbs. minced fresh ginger
1/2 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes

Combine everything in a saucepan and add 2 cups water.  Bring to the boil then simmer, stirring often until thick and most of the liquid evaporates.   Makes about 2 cups.  You can double this recipe and it freezes well. 

Pretty music day

St. Cecilia with Angel

Orazio Gentileschi

Today is the Feast of St. Cecilia.  She became the Patron Saint of Musicians because she sang to God while she died a martyr's death.  It looks like Cecilia could pick up and play any instrument, probably even the ukulele, except it hadn't been invented yet. She was born to a noble family in Rome near the end of the second century A.D.

Many poems and compositions have been written in her honor, including Ode to St. Cecilia by Henry Purcell and George Handel's Ode for St. Cecilia's Day.
 

 St. Cecilia at her Death

John Waterhouse

Thanksgiving wine

Beaujolais Nouveau is a red wine made from Gamay grapes in the Beaujolais region of France. The Nouveau release is always in November, regardless of the start of the harvest.  Not by accident, the French now release the wine exactly one week before Thanksgiving, so it's promoted as a drink for our holiday dinners. 

The region of Beaujolais has always made a vin de l'année to celebrate the end of the harvest, but until World War II it was only for local consumption.  When the rules were relaxed in 1951, selling Beaujolais Nouveau  became a way to move lots of vin ordinaire at a good profit within just weeks of the harvest.

The vintners came up with the idea of a race to Paris carrying the first bottles of the new vintage. This attracted a lot of media coverage, and by the 1970s the release had become a national event and spread to neighboring countries.

When we lived in England back then, lucky people traveled to France on special wine trips for the release. They quaffed down big quantities on the spot and then brought back as many bottles as they could.  The wild traditions continue to this day with gimmicks like "wine spas" popular with Japanese tourists.  Not on my bucket list.

No, thanks

It's kind of amazing that just weeks before this wine appears in American supermarkets, it was just clusters of grapes on a vine. This is a triumph of marketing, promotion and distribution, mostly due to the efforts of Georges Duboeuf, a tireless promoter of Beaujolais and Beaujolais Nouveau.  The artsy label design changes each year, adding to the anticipation.  

In November John always buys me a bottle which I appreciate, more for the tradition. Don't get me wrong, this is an easy-to-drink, fruity wine.  It will never get any better in the bottle than it is right now. Which is a nice metaphor for Life.  Noveau is meant to be drunk young as a cheap and cheerful drink. I'm not especially young or cheap or cheerful these days, so where's the corkscrew?

Pairing the right wines with Thanksgiving dinner always gives the serious oenophile angst. I don't know why because we'll wash down all that turkey, dressing and yams with just about anything you put in front of us.  

When Amanda was young, we often went to Mom and Dad's for Thanksgiving, and I remember her delicious, old-fashioned dinners served with little glasses of White Zinfadel or "Chablis" out of a jug.  Let's raise some toasts this week to simpler, sweeter times.   

Island get-away

My name is "Moe"

I had a nice break from routine yesterday. I went over to Vashon Island with my friend Maryanne.  She keeps her horse at a boarding stable there, and wanted me to see a Quarterhorse whose owner is out of the country and needs help taking care of him.

Vashon Island is close but a world away.  The Fauntleroy ferry dock is 15 minutes from our house and the ride to the island takes 20 minutes.  Then the barn is 10-minute country drive on the other side. About an hour total if you time it right, but compared to our manic freeways it's a stress-free commute.

Vashon Island still feels rural with lots of open space and farms.  The only town is funky and kind of artsy, but not in that posh way.  There are no big apartment buildings, chain stores or housing developments. Yet.

The islanders want to "keep Vashon weird" but there's a big influx of new money and development all over Puget Sound.  In 25 years, Vashon will probably be another tony Bainbridge Island.  The island is too close to Seattle to hold off development for much longer.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what we're losing in this country and it fills me with dread for the future.  I suppose all the more important to enjoy the treasures that still exist. 

It was another beautiful, strangely warm November day.  We rode along a quiet road then into a large park for about an hour without encountering anyone.  I never realized Vashon was such a horse friendly community-- Maryanne said there are trails all over the island and even places to ride on the beach.

I didn't take any pictures from horseback because I was paying full attention to my new mount.  But we had great views of the water and Mt. Rainier, and riding open terrain felt completely different from the dense forests in the Cascade foothills.

"Moe" was a pretty good boy. He has a couple of quirks, but he's been a dude horse and a beginner lesson horse so I think I can handle him :-) He was quiet and felt safe on the trails, the most important thing.

We haven't worked out the details, but hopefully Maryanne and I can ride one day a week this winter. Vashon Island is a nice little break from reality.

Vashon Island ferry

Make much of something small

Bounty
by Robyn Sarah

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.

Say that December sun
is pitiless, but crystalline
and strikes like a bell.
Say it plays colours like a glockenspiel.
It shows the dust as well,

the elemental sediment
your broom has missed,
and lights each grain of sugar spilled
upon the tabletop, beside
pistachio shells, peel of a clementine.

Slippers and morning papers on the floor,
and wafts of iron heat from rumbling rads,
can this be all? No, look – here comes the cat,
with one ear inside out.
Make much of something small.

Another season, another reason

These dark November days, just the beginning of this darkest winter, it's hard to remember Spring returns. In a sad daze,  I walked past the half price bulbs display at Home Depot this week and thought, why bother?

Crocus are fragile flowers that only bloom for a few days. The squirrels like to snip them off.  Well, we need beautiful and "useless" things more than ever now.   So I planted all 60 in one pot.
 

I usually just throw a string of lights on top of the arbor and call it a day, but this year I went wild.  And it sure cheers up the back entrance to our little world.

Life seems to be condensing and contracting in fearful way. More than ever, I appreciate our comfortable home, John's job, wonderful friends, family, nature, music, health.

Sometimes when you least expect it, good things come.  Like crocus in the Spring.

Books...because reality is overrated

"There is a world elsewhere."

Coriolanus

Act Three, Part One

Shakespeare

Super duper moon

Harvest Moon

George Iness

Today is the super moon, the closest full moon of the year. According to NASA, super moons can appear 14 percent bigger and 30 percent brighter in the night sky.  It is the closest full moon since 1948.

Will we see it?  Our sweet November summer is over, and it's been raining on and off all weekend.  We're in between storms this morning, so there might be just enough clearing to sneak a peek.

Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon

Caspar Friedrich

Out of joint

"What is the late November doing
With the disturbance of the spring
And creatures of the summer heat,
And snowdrops writhing under feet,
And hollyhocks that aim too high.
Red into grey and tumble down
Late roses filled with early snow?"

An exquisite lyric from "The Four Quartets"
T.S. Eliot

We are living in strange times in more ways than one.

This is the warmest November in the recorded history of the Northwest. Temperatures soared to 70 degrees nearly every day this week, shattering records in what is usually a dismal, cold month.  This weather is more like a pleasant September.  The weather gurus say if we don't get a handle on global warming, this is typical winter weather by 2080.  

John mowed again this week, and look how nice and tidy with the beds mulched for the winter-- when it finally comes. Those new tulips and hyacinth bulbs I planted are starting to poke through when they should be just chilling out.

It is nice being outside, of course.  Dolly and I were in T-shirts at the barn yesterday.  And instead of a cold, raw day, I put the holiday lights up on a warm sunny afternoon.   But this strange weather adds to the general feeling of weirdness and unease.  

"The Four Quartets" is a mystical poem about our relationship with time, the universe, and the divine. It is also a difficult poem,  and the poet's imagination jumps the reader from place to place. But it is a true work of art, because no matter how many times you read it, there's always something new to discover.

Eliot published "The Four Quartets" in the early 1940's while living in England. Troubled times, indeed.  In the poem, nature is out of joint because the regularities of life had become unreliable and erratic.

Under the bright, blue bubble

Between a stimulus and a response there is a space.  

In that space is our power to choose our response. 

In our response lies our growth and freedom.

Viktor Frankl

Life goes on, up in our blue left hand corner of the country. I've never been happier to live in the Northwest, or more grateful for my friends, family and community.  We have a lot to think about and this emotional point is probably not the time to over-think.  But it goes without saying, many of us are confused, worried and upset.

Taoism (pronounced Dowism) is an ancient Chinese religion. It believes that life flows in much the same way as a river. Although we can influence our lives, we are never able to take total control. The goal of Taoism is to look at life without judgement or interpretation.  How hard! But the true significance of an event can never be understood while it is happening. 

Good things are constantly being born out of the seemingly bad, and vice versa. Often, it's just a matter of time until an event or decision from one category leads directly to one in the other.

There's a famous 2,000 year old Taoist parable called "The Farmer and His Horse."  It goes like this:

A poor old farmer worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away, his most valuable and beloved possession. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.

"Maybe," the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed.

"Maybe," replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

"Maybe," answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
"Maybe," said the farmer.

What is bad leads to good leads to bad leads to good, ad infinitum. The farmer is wise enough to know it all comes out in the wash.

Hang on to your hat!

76 years ago, the Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapsed in a 40 mph wind.  Happy Birthday "Galloping Gertie."

Chocolate is a vegetable

Made from cocoa beans. Good to know, if you need some comfort munching in front of the TV on Tuesday night.  And today just happens to be "Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day" so stock up. 

The average phone user checks their phone about 150 times a day, about 10 times an hour. Guilty as charged.  I've been obsessed with the news, especially the polls. Soon it will be over, or at least this part will be over.  Whether politics will ever be "the same" again is a subject for another day.  We just need to get though this week.

We had a nice weekend, the sun came out on Sunday and we met our friends Betsy and Paul for gelato before the symphony.  But everyone feels out of sorts from the time change. Dinner and wine time are suddenly an hour late.

Easy potato cakes

2 cups leftover mashed potatoes
1 beaten egg
2 tbs. flour
2 tbs. chopped chives (or other herb)
Garlic powder and pepper
1/2 cup grated cheese

Mix everything in a bowl, then slowly fry the patties until golden brown on both sides, about 30 minutes.  I used olive oil with a touch of butter.   You don't need much-- they drink up all the fat you put in pan.  I used my new, non stick Swiss diamond 12 inch skillet (John likes to buy me kitchen slave gifts) and it worked beautifully.

These pancakes go with just about anything, even eggs.  Eat them plain or with applesauce or sour cream on top.

Good morning, Dad! You should ask Marji to make these for you sometime :-)

Well, I'm taking back the mean, dreary things I said about the weather.  It was sunny and warm yesterday-- a real spirit lifter of a day and I got in several solid hours of outdoor chores which made me feel better.

On Saturday the rain is coming back, but today is supposed to be nice after the fog burns off.  After sticking close to home yesterday (it was National Housewife Day) I'm driving out to the foothills to see my horsey friends.