"The sun will come out, tomorrow..."

We saw a delightful production of "Annie" last night at the Community Center auditorium in Twisp.  Everyone left the theater humming tunes from the show.

Nova gave a great performance as one of the singing, dancing orphans. Of course we couldn't take our eyes off her on the stage. It was a big production and lots of work--they've been rehearsing since January.

I had a back stage pass before the show, and got to watch the orphans getting made up and dressed..

 Everyone was very excited and a bit sad, since this was the last performance. 

Of course, there's plenty of backstage waiting with live theater, too-- for the actresses and their weary stage moms.

Hope is the thing with feathers

White Crowned Sparrow

I give a little money to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and they send their excellent magazine "Living Bird."  They also have a phone app called Merlin Bird ID. It uses the GPS location to help identify local birds, and hasn't failed me yet.

The Audubon Society is more famous, but the hallmark of the Cornell Lab is collecting observations of everyday people. About 200,000 birders of all skill levels help gather the data needed for the University of Cornell ornithologists to put together the big picture about distribution of birds. 

The latest issue of "Living Bird" had a sobering article about the recent "reinterpretation" of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act by the Department of Interior, the very organization charged with regulating the forces that threaten birds.  The historic law, based on a pledge between President Wilson and King George V of England, was one of the first international environmental agreements, following a ruthless 19th century of nature exploitation when many species became extinct.  For 100 years, government leaders of every political persuasion have respected the sanctity of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act.

On a Friday before a holiday weekend in December, the Department of Interior issued an opinion that under a new and narrow interpretation of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, industries like mining, chemical and energy are suddenly freed from legal liability, even if their actions result in avoidable, massive killings of birds. Shortly after that, the department received a letter from 17 former Interior Department officials who had served under every president since Nixon, denouncing this giant loophole in the law.  

While we're numbed by the salacious and trivial stories now passing as "news," profoundly disturbing political actions are occurring just under the radar that will have consequences far into the future.

What a difference a day makes. Cloudy today and 20 degrees cooler.  But we're going to Twisp this weekend and looking forward to seeing the family.  Nova is performing in the Community Theater production of "Annie." She's one of the singing, dancing orphans! We'll try to get some pictures of the little actress.

The war on cars

From our kitchen window and deck we can see a massive crane two blocks away, where they tore down the beloved PCC grocery store to build the new four-story Luna Apartment complex.  Actually this crane is visible for miles around-- the largest we've ever seen in West Seattle. I think it's kind of a grim, industrial view in what once was a quiet little neighborhood.  But there's no sign of the building boom slowing down, and Seattle keeps hitting new highs for cost of living.

I've heard Seattle referred to lately as a "car hostile" city.  This is true. Developers are cutting deals to build apartment buildings without spaces for residents, they are ripping up busy streets to create bike lanes only a faction of people use, downtown surface streets will be tolled in a few years (to say nothing of the tunnel) and parking lots (incredibly expensive if you can find one) are going away to build more condos and apartments. All of this wouldn't be so bad of we had enough mass transportation, but most people don't have any choice except drive to work.

OK, end of rant.  Here's some good news-- we're going to hit 80 today, the warmest day of the year so far.   It is absolutely beautiful outside. My ebay dahlia bulb came in just two days, and is already planted in the warm ground.  Why drive to the nursery?  Why drive anywhere for that matter, when you can get just about anything delivered? I can't even remember the last time I went downtown shopping. $30 to park for the day.

German castles

I was going through a folder of old family papers looking for genealogy information, and ran across this pencil drawing of a castle. Mom had written on the back: "Sketch made by Herman Klinger in Germany as a young man. Very precious."

Herman was her father.  Mom always wrote on the backs of photographs, inside books, and attached notes to family heirlooms. It was kind of a family joke, but helpful now. Although I'm one of the few people left who can still read Mom and Grandma's archaic handwriting.

Herman signed the bottom of the sketch in a very fine hand, "Schloss Liechtenstein 22.8.20. He would have been 20 years old. I'm not surprised he was a good artist, since he was trained as an draftsman before emigrating to America in the 1920's.  He was only able to find work in machine shops here, and mom said he changed jobs often. She said it was a bad day for the family when he came home with his tool box. He was a good, hard-working man, although Germans of that generation were not known for their easy-going personalities.

I'll have a little frame made for the sketch and put it on my desk. It's too nice to hide away in a drawer. I like drawing castles, too. It's funny, isn't it, how some things feel so natural, almost like you did them before in another life?  On the other hand, I never feel that way playing the ukulele! Sheer plod and determination finally got me to the intermediate stage, where I've likely plateaued.  I don't have a musical gene in my body, but that's OK.  They say creativity is influenced by our DNA, but it means absolutely nothing without hard work and effort. 

Poetry Month

"A New Day"

Henry Margetson

Oh, I still miss Garrison Kellior's "Writer's Almanac" blog.  He really had a knack for picking accessible, simple poems for his daily selections.  April is National Poetry Month by the way. Something to consider in this time of relentless, numbing news headlines.

Thomas Lynch, funeral director and prizewinning poet, said this about poetry:

I can always tell when I haven't been getting enough.  My ears begin to ache with the low din of disorder and the noisome burdens of the information age begin to overwhelm and when everything begins to sound like everything else...then I know I haven't been getting enough poetry. A daily dose would, like an apple or exercise or the habit of prayer, serve as a preventative against most vexations.


And here's a favorite, from a previous Writer's Almanac:

The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Allium in the family

"Earth Day" turned into "Attack Your Garden Day" around here. The Genus Allium includes onions, garlic and shallots, and also a big family of pretty ornamental flowers. I planted some many years ago and they've gradually spread and smothered big swaths in the spring garden.

After they bloom, the foliage dies back and the lazy gardener can ignore them again. Well, up to a point, that is. The self-propagated ones were mostly leaves, and hogging up too much prime real estate.

Digging them out is a dirty, thankless job. About half the time the stem snaps off, leaving the bulb deep in the ground, which means you get to do the same thing again next year.

There's also the possibility of collateral damage. The poor lilies are just sticking their dainty heads up while you're stomping around with a shovel.  Sometimes, there's no nice way to do things in the garden.

After two mornings of of work, I filled the entire yard waste bin with alliums, but lucky for the bees, we'll never be entirely rid of them.

The garden can actually breath a bit now. It was so choked with vegetation, I thought some of my favorites like the expensive Echinaceas had perished over the winter, but they were just hiding under the allium mess.

It's also a good idea to turn the soil occasionally, and what a pleasure seeing lovely worms in the dark, rich dirt after so many decades of gardening.

Onward we go. Nature abhors a vacuum, as do most gardeners.  Like some sort of dahlia alcoholic, I bought "just one more" on Ebay this morning. (Is there anything you can't find on Ebay?)

Like all dahlias, this one is wonderfully garish, but the name is what really sold me. Who could resist a flower called Bohemian Spartacus Burgundy Gold? 

Home sweet

I woke up early this morning and poured myself a cup of ambition. Not working. There's nothing but a pile of laundry and grocery shopping on the agenda today. We had cheese and crackers for dinner on the plane last night, so I made a big egg breakfast. I feel as slow as this guy we saw walking around at Moorten Botanical Garden.  Oh well, it will all get done eventually, and might as well hold on to that vacation feeling for as long as possible. 

Wonder of wonders, while we were gone the calendar finally clicked over to spring. Not desert warm, but the next week looks nice with mostly sunny days and temperatures in the 60's.  The garden is a rank green jungle of flopping tulips and weeds. The grass is about ankle high.  Time to get things whipped into summer shape.

See you Monday!
 

Celebrity tour

Elvis slept here...

Frank Sinatra slept here...

We slept here...

The celebrity bus tour was fun yesterday.  Anyone who was anyone in Hollywood had a home once in Palm Springs. Most were clustered a few blocks from downtown in the mid-century modern development of Las Palmas.  The eclectic estates are stunning, and our guide had all the inside gossip and stories.  We've been coming to Palm Springs for years and somehow missed touring this iconic neighborhood.  If you are interested, a surprising number of celebrity homes are available as short term rentals. Bring money.

All good things must eventually end, and we fly north later today. 

Food, desert, art

On Monday night, as we waited for a table outside the Pig and Rooster with the other hip people, we watched this food writer? blogger? photographer? taking pictures of plates the waiters scurried in and out with.

She looked like someone important, at least she acted like it, but Palm Springs is filled with glossy, celebrity-looking people during Coachella.  Maybe I should have mentioned the famous food blog "Feathers and Flowers," and we might have had a table quicker.  Ha!

For someone who likes cooking as much as I do, John says I'm not much of a gourmand, at least when it comes to complicated food. This Vietnamese-American fusion restaurant is trendy right now in Palm Springs, meaning: long waits for tables, tight seating, and noisy.  We found a couple things on the menu both of us would eat-- a shredded chicken salad with dates, and beef skewer lettuce wraps. Both pretty good. I also ordered a $10 appetizer of roasted brussels sprouts with Chinese sausage (whatever that is)  and it was awfully salty and tough.  

My photos are not that great, but then I didn't stand on the chair like Miss Smarty Pants. 

Last night was more our style of dining.  It's hard to get bad Mexican food in California, and this is the historic Las Casuelas Terraza in downtown Palm Springs.

Fajita salad for me, chili rellenos for John.   Both delicious with gracious service.

We were out and about in the rental car yesterday. Some of the cities south of Palm Springs are quite ritzy, like Palm Desert, full of gated communities, luxury car dealerships and high end shopping.  The Palm Springs Art Museum has a beautiful and free sculpture garden there, which we really enjoyed.

The weather perfection continues.  We're looking forward to our celebrity bus tour of Palm Springs this morning.

Early morning hike

Tahquitz Canyon waterfall loop trail

Thousand Palms Oasis

When I tell people we're going to Palm Springs, they ask what do we do there, since we're not golfers.  I don't know, but the days seem to pass so quickly and pleasantly.  We always do the same things, but John also good at finding something new each time. Tomorrow we're thinking about a guided hike at Tahquitz Canyon,  that is, if we wake up with more ambition than we have this morning. 

Yesterday we stopped at Thousand Palms Oasis, a nature preserve in the Coachella Valley.  It sits directly on the San Andreas Fault, one of the best known and menacing geological features in the world. In the middle of the desert, the fault is the source of the rare surface water, creating a stunning natural oasis full of plant and animal diversity.

We took the two mile walk out to the pond. It was a beautiful day, only about 80 degrees.  But the sun sure felt hot on our whiter than white skin.

We are staying now just a few blocks from downtown Palm Springs, and had a nice vegetarian pizza for our early dinner, along with the families and old people.  We noticed the party crowd were just finishing up their breakfast.

Unfortunately, there's a high wind warning for today, so I think we'll go to Shield's Date Garden this afternoon.  Just another la-di-da day.

From rain to spa

Saturday morning, 8 am. Pouring rain and 45 degrees. 18th in line for take-off at Seatac Airport.  (I counted.) Apparently, not the only ones wanting to get out of Dodge.  We left Seattle late but arrived almost on time.

Getting off the plane in Palm Springs during high season is like waking up in heaven.  You feel like you've just been rewarded for something. Although in August, it might feel like that "other place."

A balmy 80 degrees in the palm tree filled, open air airport.  Look at that handsome Palm Springs guy! Ah. The neck starts to relax in the warm air.

In a few minutes, we were off in our rental car to find an In-n-Out Burger. John's first, and made to his exact picky specifications.  A big hit. 

We had  time before checking into our hotel in Desert Hot Springs, so stopped at one of our favorite places, Cabot's Pueblo Museum.

The Tuscan Springs Hotel and Spa did not disappoint. This is the main pool, with spectacular views of the mountains and Coachella Valley.

Poolside beds for napping and lounging! Could I do something that decadent?  Well, maybe after a glass or two of wine.

Courtyards and bird-filled gardens.

Adults only and very peaceful.

Of course we were up long before anyone else, so had a private swim.  Getting ready for late breakfast now. Plan to laze around until check out then head down to Palm Springs for the rest of the week.  Life is good.