Goodbye for now

Great Aunt Marji, Great Grandpa, Amanda, Nova, Maya

And Doodles

Postcards from Vegas

Show gals?

Relaxing poolside

Taking over Auntie's house

And patio...

Making new friends

Lil' travelers

I dropped Amanda, Tom, the girls, and the pile of gear off at the airport yesterday for their flight to Las Vegas. They have a big southwest camping trip planned next week with friends from the Methow Valley. 

Last night they stayed at the Excalibur Hotel on the Strip, which was quite a culture shock for the country girls.  Nova said the slot machines were "scary."  (She's right.) Today they visit Dad and Marji in north Las Vegas before meeting up with another family on Saturday and heading to the Grand Canyon.  

Absolute beginner

Noun: Perspective

Definition:


"The art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from a particular point. A perspective drawing."

"A particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view."

"True understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion."

Keeping good perspective is hard in drawing and also hard in life, as one of my nice followers commented recently.

I bought a beginner's book on perspective at the wonderful (and dangerous) Daniel Smith art supply. Intellectually at least, I get the idea of the horizon vanishing point, but a few pages in and I was over my head. Once you get past single point perspective, it's a very complicated concept.  But there are lots of exercises and explanations, so I'm sticking with the book.

Artists enjoy fiddling around with their tools, gadgets and supplies. While you're sharpening and rearranging your pencils, you don't actually have to create something.  Ha!  The book had a list of recommended tools. Oh, boy! I found an "Essential Math/Geometry" set on eBay for only $12.  Since math and geometry were never my strong suit, I now have a bunch of fun looking tools I don't know how to use.  But it makes me look like I know what I'm doing.

Hey, I'm ready when creativity strikes.  Note to self: castles are hard, dogs and cats even harder.

Weed Appreciation Day

March is going out like a lion, not a lamb. Colder than normal, wet and windy in the lowlands, with snow still piling up in the mountains.  They haven't even started clearing the North Cascades Highway, which usually takes about a month. 

Today looks dry, so I'm headed to Vashon for a last ride on Moe. His owner decided to move him to a kid's horse camp on the island where her daughter will be working this summer.  It's kind of a bummer losing his lease just when nice weather is finally coming.  But so it goes...I'm fond of the old guy, but there might be another trail horse available at the barn this summer. April is going to be a very busy month anyway, so I won't have much time for riding.



Despite the chill, the garden is bursting with bulbs and new growth (weeds.) The pink clematis looks beautiful from the kitchen window.  These vines are rampant, but for all I care it can go ahead and cover the entire shed. We had one right outside the back door for years but it finally died. It was always dripping on us and I didn't like climbing up the arbor to prune it.

Today is Weed Appreciation Day.  What is a weed, anyway?  Once upon a time, the first dandelion salad with hot bacon dressing was highly anticipated, a Pennsylvania Dutch classic. A great balance of bitter and sweet, salty and savory.  You can find all sorts of gussied up recipes on the Internet with egg and dried cranberries, but ours was simple. It was so special, I remember eating it as the main course.  And quite a bit of work for the cook, to dig, wash and cook the "weeds."

"Weeds are flowers, too. Once you get to know them."

A.A. Milne

A poem for today

 "Original Sin"
by Lawrence Raab

That was one idea my mother
always disliked. She preferred her god
to be reasonable, like Emerson or Thoreau
without their stranger moments.
Even the Old Testament God’s
sudden angers and twisted ways
of getting what he wanted she’d accept
as metaphor. But original sin
was different. Plus no one agreed
if it was personal, meaning
all Adam’s fault, or else some kind
of temporary absence of the holy,
which was Adam’s fault as well.
In any case, it made no sense
that we’d need to be saved before
we’d even had the chance
to be wrong. Yes, eventually everyone
falls into error, but when my sister and I
were babies she could see we were perfect,
as we opened our eyes and gazed up at her
with what she took for granted as love,
long before either of us knew the word
and what damage it could cause.

Hope

On a cold Saturday morning, most of the town turned out for the "March for Life." Good for Twisp. It was wonderful seeing so many young people empowered by this movement.

Thanks, Amanda for the weekend pictures, including these from your first spring hike.  It looks like little "Nica" is fitting right into the family.

Politics

The price of pig

I'm going to date myself. Way back in the middle of the last century, when we were growing up on a farm in Pennsylvania, a ham was a big deal.  Now we can get so much meat for just a few dollars. Guess we have unsavory factory farms to thank.

We raised a pig each year for family consumption, and Mom kept a slop bucket in the kitchen where she threw all the leftovers, peels, etc. Pigs will eat anything with relish.  The pig was carefully butchered in the fall.  As they say, "everything but the oink." The lard was rendered for pie and cooking; sausage and scrapple made with all the bits.

But the real prize were the hams. Only two precious hams per pig, along with the "picnic hams" (shoulder.)  They went into the little smokehouse in the backyard, along with the bacon. I still remember how that wonderful smell perfumed the whole farm for a few weeks.  We were not supposed to open the door, but of course we peeked inside.  The smokehouse looked something like this.

Ham was so special, I don't remember Mom or Grammy cooking a whole one very often. It was used to make many meals instead. The hams hung in the attic or basement, and Mom would cut off slices with a hacksaw to fry.  And folks, that's just how old I am.

Speaking of pigs, whatever possessed me to buy a healthy pork fillet "with apple wood smoked bacon?" I couldn't see all that bacon on the underside of the package. What an indulgent piece of meat.

Oh well, out of respect for the pig, we had to eat it.  (ha ha)  Of course it roasted up absolutely scrumptious.  As chef, carver, and server, it was impossible not to pinch up many tasty bits before it even got to the table.  Once a farm girl, always a farm girl.  

The meal was redeemed somewhat by this cabbage salad. The dressing is a simple vinaigrette, but I added a finely diced honey crisp apple that gave it a nice sweet crunch.  I think even fussy kids would like it.

See you Monday...

Imagine "Imagine"

I'm still plinking along with my ukulele.  Boy, it took a long time just getting to intermediate stage, but it's about the journey, not the destination. Strumming with The Ukes has helped me more than lessons, plus it's more fun than sitting in my rocking chair practicing solo (kind of sad.) And now I'm part of the wacky amateur Seattle ukulele scene.  Who knew there were so many of us?  When I tell John  about the song circle politics, he says it sounds like a Christopher Guest mocumentary. He's right.

The Ukes play in West Seattle at the senior center on Monday afternoons and I've made some nice friends there.  I also try to go up to the big SUPA (Seattle Ukulele Player's Association) song circle in north Seattle, but we are often busy Sunday afternoons and I seem to miss most of their monthly meetings.

If I can make the SUPA rehearsals in April and May, I'd like to perform with them at the Seattle Folklife Festival on Memorial Day weekend. Wow, that word "perform" slipped out so casually.  A few years ago I couldn't imagine playing in a group, much less in front of a public audience. So looking back, I have progressed...

Last Sunday SUPA held their annual open mike meeting, and a long list of people volunteered to stand up and be terrified in front of the group. There was a lot of talent on display which was inspiring, along with quavering voices and knocking knees.  It takes real chutzpah covering a Peter Frampton guitar/voice classic like "Baby, I Love Your Way" on the ukulele.

If I were brave enough for open mike I'd pick some easy 3-chord wonder like "King of the Road" or "Jambalaya." Some of the early Bob Dylan songs ("Don't Think Twice," "Blowing in the Wind") and John Denver ("Country Roads," Leavin' on a Jet Plane") sound fine strummed. Bob and John didn't exactly have operatic voices, either. Peter, Paul and Mary tunes were made for the ukulele, and of course, every hokey Hawaiian song ever written. 

Just my opinion, but most ukulele strumming groups should avoid the classic virtuoso guitar rock.  That includes most everything written by the Beatles, unless of course you are Jake Shimabukuro, playing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." Which is enough to make any ukulele player weep with envy. 

They are The Great Beatles for a reason: their simple-sounding music is devilishly hard to play on the uke.  Even good guitar players say the same thing.  Ditto, anything written by Don Henley and the Eagles. I've dragged through more than one desperate attempt at "Desperato," and The Ukes have butchered "Hotel California" many a time.

And just imagine John Lennon's great masterpiece "Imagine" strummed (and sung) by 100 amateur ukulele players?  I'll leave you with that thought.

Oven fries

Good, crispy oven fries are hard to make. They turn out edible, but usually on the limp and soggy side.  I found a tip on the Internet for using parchment paper instead of a bare cookie sheet or aluminum foil.  Most of us don't keep a roll of parchment paper laying around the kitchen, but I had some left from Christmas cookies. It is one of those essential baking aids-- just watch Martha Stewart, she goes through it by the yard. 

Anyway, the potato recipe is simple.  I tossed the slices right on the paper with about a teaspoon of olive oil, some garlic salt and pinch of paprika. You could use any spices you like.  Bake them in a hot oven (convection if you have it) for about 30 minutes, turning once. They come out looking like "real" fries, without the pool of grease.

Just one tip-- don't be lazy.  I didn't bother to trim the excess paper around the side of the sheet, and John pointed out how it scorched up quite nicely in the hot oven.  Does parchment paper actually ignite?  Well, best not to find out the hard way, having experienced one nasty oven fire in this kitchen.

And to go with the fries, what else but shrimp?  I know we're are supposed to avoid imported shrimp, but I buy them frozen at Costco. (Never Trader Joes.)  I might be overconfident about Costco's quality control, but they taste mild and fresh. Very good lightly fried in "Golden Dipt" coating.

A new season

It might not feel like it yet in the fickle weather month of March, but winter is finally, officially over.  Today's vernal equinox marks the time when the sun crosses over the equator and the length of day and night is almost equal. Days now grow progressively longer until the summer solstice on June 21.  Maybe it's because we're under dark clouds so much of the time, but the angle of the sun when it decides to come out is absolutely blinding.

Speaking of the sunshine of our lives-- our wonderful daughter Amanda applied for the position of Pateros District School nurse and was offered the job.  Her busy life will now become even busier, because this new job is in addition to the three days a week she already works at Family Heath Center in Twisp.  On Thursdays, she will make the 60 mile round trip commute to the town of Pateros to work at the school. School nursing has changed a great deal over the years, and this will be challenging and interesting work. And she will be terrific. Congratulations!

A new family member

Aw, shucks.  How cute is that? The girls have a new puppy.

 "Nica" is Shepard mix, about 3 months old.  She should grow into a medium sized dog.

Amanda said she has a loving nature and is pretty mellow for a puppy.

And as you can see, wasting no time fitting into the good life...

However, one family member's nose was seriously out of joint.  Georgia the cat won't make eye contact with the invader yet, but Amanda says she's coming around to her new housemate.

Paddy's dinner

Top o' the Mornin' to You

All corned beef is not created equal. This is a nice flat cut brisket from Costco for $5.99 a pound. I'll roast it this afternoon in a low oven with plenty of onions and it will smell delicious, that is, if you like corned beef.   As for cooked cabbage, that's on the list of foods John won't touch, so I'll make some separately-- I love it.

Corned beef is just tough brisket, so it needs slow, moist cooking. Safeway (with coupon) had point cut corned beef on sale this week for only $1.99 a pound. The point cut has more fat and looks rather nasty raw, but it cooks up quite juicy (most of the fat boils or roasts out anyway) and is perfect if you plan to shred it.

Hey, who are we kidding? This is not health food. But homemade corned beef hash is fine indeed, once in a great while. Yes, I also bought a cheap one at Safeway, and put in the freezer to cook up for hash and sandwiches later.

Another little Costco impulse purchase-- a cute cheddar cheese block from "Great Britain" packaged in a green wax shamrock. They sure have the food marketing down for this silly holiday.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Just Another Diamond Day

I think we've finally turned a corner on the weather.  It seems like forever since I've been over to ride Moe, with rain, snow, wind and freezing temps most of February.  Now we are finally back in the 50's where we should be this time of year, and yesterday was a brilliant sunny day.  My riding friend Marianne is away in Palm Springs, so I decided to go to Vashon Island by myself. 

I missed the 9:30 boat at Fauntleroy by about 10 seconds. Drat. Honestly, I think those dock workers are secretly smirking when they snap the gate down in front of your nose. But no worries, I didn't have long to wait for the next boat, and being first in line, I had a front row view for the quick crossing.

Moe was glad to see me.  Ha! Who am I kidding?  It was the bag of carrots.  Still, he is a good natured old soul. His winter blanket was off, and he took full advantage of it for a big roll in the spring mud.  So I had a filthy horse to groom up.

Moe says summer is coming, in case you have any doubts. I brushed off about a bushel of chestnut hair and barely made a dent in his winter coat.  We rode out far enough to take in a spectacular view of Mt. Rainier.



You know how certain songs stick in your head? I ran across the English singer-songwriter Vashti Bunyan on my iTunes subscription. I don't remember her from the 1970's, probably because her debut album Just Another Diamond Day was a flop. She was so discouraged she abandoned her musical career and spent the next 30 years raising a family on a farm in Scotland.  Then a few years ago, while surfing the web, she discovered her music was still "out there" and she had developed a cult following.  What a great story.

The Ides of March

March 15th is the first day of spring in the Roman calendar. The Ides of March is also the first day of the Roman New Year, which got off to a bad start for Julius Caesar in 44 BC. He was warned not to go to work, but didn't listen. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Dictators still love each other.

"The evil that men do lives after them..."