So long, January

“Lots of people go mad in January. Not as many as in May, of course. Nor June. But January is your third most common month for madness.”

Karen Joy Fowler

We made it through January without a mental breakdown or so much as a cold, which always seems like a good omen for the rest of the year.  It must be the combination of clean living and daily wine.  Ha. I'm about to strap on my bossy new Fitbit and trudge off to the gym.

It's still too early to get excited about it, but we could finally get some snow on Sunday night. It's been so mild here, certainly compared to the rest of the country, but winter might not be done with us yet.  I enjoy our rare Seattle snowy days, and have hundreds of photographs of the yard to prove it, but I have an early flight to Las Vegas on Monday morning.  Hopefully it won't cause any problems, because it just takes a few flurries to throw this city into a tizzy. 

Speaking of the Fitbit, I'm starting to like it. When I was trail riding on Moe this week, it gave me credit for 7,000 extra steps, and buzzed me praise kudos for being an "over-achiever."  Now that's a first, but as John pointed out, Moe should get the step credit.  And I say if the all-knowing Fitbit thinks riding is exercise, that's good enough for me.

"Calling Dr. Freud..."

Last night I dreamed I was being chased around by a vicious lobster. Probably just bad Karma, considering all the Crustaceans I've happily devoured. I was awake a long time after that one, and slept in until 5:30. I turned on the news and gave thanks I wasn't waking up in the Midwest.  It is a balmy 32 degrees in Seattle this morning. Factoring in windchill, that's 83 degrees warmer than Chicago.

This is a great soup for a cold night, cobbled together with, of all things, some leftover seasoned taco meat I had in the freezer.

No recipe required:  Saute some chopped onion, carrots, peppers and garlic, add one can of beef broth and one can of diced tomatoes with green chili, the taco meat and a can or two of black beans. Simmer until the vegetables are tender and the flavors blended. 

Munch a bunch

January 29th is National Corn Chip Day. Hard to believe, but I lived the first 11 years of my life in a corn-chipless world.  The ubiquitous Frito's Corn Chip was first marketed in 1961. Some of you will remember singing along to the old Frito advertisement, one of the finest ear worms ever.

Now in the category of junk food, they were originally marketed as healthful. Salty snacks back then were your choice of potato chips or pretzels, so corn chips tasted pretty exotic. (Pretzels, the world's oldest snack food, have their own holiday on April 26th.)

The corn chip craze set off a creative frenzy in 1960's kitchens.  Some rather alarming recipes, but others enduring classics, like the Frito Pie (walking taco) from the Santa Fe Woolworth lunch counter.

 Frito pie

 Frito chicken casserole

Frito barbecued lima beans

Frito salad with Velveeta

 Frito prune whip

 Frito-Ketts (as in croquettes?)

Papa John's Frito pizza

Frito chocolate chip cookies

Frito dogs
And so on...

Screen time

My iPhone gives me a screen time report every week, meaning the number of hours that I stared intently at the thing. Last week it was up 68% from the previous.  I guess I got caught up in the political insanity, and one news story led to the next.  As you-know-who would say, So Very Very Sad!!!

Anyway, I'm trying to be more mindful, especially in the early hours when screens are particularity harsh on old eyes.  Of course, this is my favorite blogging time, but honesty, a laptop in bed at 5 am? Before you even notice, an hour has passed without looking up.

A Sunday opinion article in the NYT said "Steve Jobs Never Wanted Us to Use Our iphones Like This." He saw them as a handy tool to tuck in your pocket to make real calls to real friends, listen to music and send an occasional  text message. He wasn't that big on apps or games.  Easy to forget that the idea of a smart phone as our beloved and essential companion is a recent thing.  Now we actually panic if they're not constantly within reach. 

OK, this the final Monday morning of "Viadoom" traffic, which turned more into "Viabust." The commute hasn't been much worse than usual the past two weeks. The  90,000 cars that used the Viaduct on a typical day just disappeared, and no one can explain it. A few thousand extra people rode bicycles or took public transportation, but that can't account for it.  The theory is that anyone who could just stayed home or got out of Dodge.

Farewell and good riddance to January. The groundhog peeks out on Saturday. We're ending the month unseasonably dry and relatively warm.  Stay away, polar vortex.

Spring in January

January 2018

It's unusual to go all winter in Seattle without at least a dusting of snow. This morning I looked back on years of January pictures, and there's almost always a snow day. Not this year.

The average high temperature at Sea-Tac for the first half of January was 51.8 degrees, the warmest temperature on record over that period in any recorded year, dating back to the 1890s. It looks like we'll finish out the month with a string of sunny days. No rain, no snow.

So I've started doing outdoor things that I typically do in February, like clean the windows.  I use that Windex bottle that attaches to a hose (pretty slick and no ladder.) Rinsing off the winter grime makes it noticeably brighter inside, and of course shows up the dust and those stray pine needles hanging around since Christmas.

Then yesterday I sprayed the plum tree with horticultural oil, which is supposed to smother aphids before they hatch.  I'd rather not use chemicals of any kind in the yard, but oil is probably the most benign treatment on dormant trees.

So I've been making myself useful while stranded here in West Seattle. I bought a FitBit Alta with my Christmas money, and yesterday did 9,000 steps without really "trying." The daily goal is supposed to be 10,000 steps. And to do that, you really have to walk all over the place.  John routinely does 10-15,000 steps a day at work-- such a busy bee keeping Boeing running. Ha!

Well, I'm looking forward to meeting my old friend Candi tomorrow on Vashon for lunch.  No other big plans for the weekend.  Have a good one.

Mary Oliver

I was sad to hear that prize-winning poet Mary Oliver died earlier this week at age 83.  She was loved for her plain language and simple imagery, in particular, her minute observations of the natural world.

I Happened To Be Standing

I don’t know where prayers go,
or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
of little importance, in full
self-attendance.  A condition I can’t really
call being alive.
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition,
or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep.  Maybe not.

While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don’t know why.  And yet, why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don’t.  That’s your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this be
if it isn’t a prayer?
So I just listened, my pen in the air.

Mary Oliver

Pruning season

My landscaping guy came yesterday and pruned the apple and plum trees.  There's no end of complicated advice on the art and science of pruning.  Just Google "Martha Stewart fruit tree prune" if you want to feel overwhelmed.

Tommy used a hedge cutter on a pole, and that would give Martha the vapors.  I watched a video of her supervising her personal gardener, who makes every single precise cut by hand in her huge apple orchard.

But when all is said and done, I think most people are too timid when it comes to pruning. I've butchered plenty of roses in my day, only to have them come back better than ever.

Tommy took a third off the top, which is about right.  That means fewer plums, but since we couldn't get the high ones anyway it doesn't really matter. The plum tree tends to bloom early, and if the pollinators aren't out and about yet, we have a poor crop. Fortunately, our neighbor across the street has an old plum tree.  Plum trees (like most other fruit trees) need partner varieties nearby to cross-pollinate and fruit. Yes, the birds and the bees.

I haven't left West Seattle in almost 2 weeks. I'm glad I haven't had to, but to be honest, the "Viadoom" morning traffic hasn't been as bad as predicted. I think many people decided to take vacation or whatever, and avoid the whole thing. Fewer people are commuting by car and more are taking the bus (good for them.)  Getting downtown on surface streets isn't too bad, but later in the day, it's a nightmare trying to get out to I-5 from here.

I didn't sleep well last night (windy) so decided to skip the early gym, have some avocado toast then clean out closets and drawers.  Another day close to home. Gosh, I am such a housewife these days.

 South entrance to the tunnel

Doesn't that look inviting?  They say work is progressing well on the tunnel, and there's a big opening celebration planned for February 2-3.

Go, Nova!

Amanda took the girls skiing yesterday near Winthrop. What a beautiful winter day in the Methow Valley.  Nova is on the cross-county ski team this year.  Can you tell?

Sorry, I haven't figured out how to stop YouTube from doing that annoying "next video" feature.  Guess they need the revenue. 

Hostess with the mostess

Those crows are eying my new suet basket up in the apple tree.  They can hop up and grab a quick mouthful, but won't hang on and gobble like other birds.

I don't usually put suet out, so I'm a popular avian hostess right now with Scrub Jays, Northern Flickers and lots of other little birds that like a mouthful of fatty seed.  Also squirrels, of course, who are constantly into everything.  They don't actually eat suet, but pick out the goodies inside. 

"And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."
 
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

I took a walk yesterday afternoon and low and behold, the first crocus were opening in a sunny bed across the street.  Ours aren't even up yet, but they have to push their heads through an extra layer of compost this year.  I hope all that organic matter gives the soil a boost this summer.  If I have to water less, that alone would be a big deal.  Time and patience will tell.

Well, it was cloudy and chilly all day Sunday, and we didn't think there was the chance of a snowball in you-know-where to see the Super Blood Wolf Moon Eclipse.  Then right at sunset, the skies miraculously cleared and the stars came out.

My iPhone camera doesn't do it justice-- this is a professional photograph taken down on Alki Beach. Just about 9 pm, when the eclipse was almost full, the clouds rolled back in and obscured the moon.  How lucky is that? It was the last total lunar eclipse of its kind anywhere in the world until 2021.

Looking ahead to February

I signed up (again) for the community college drawing class I missed last fall.  This time I registered the correct way with an online account, instead of just sending a check in the mail then promptly forgetting about it.  So I got email confirmation, a supply list and other reminders.

The class meets Saturday mornings in February (I'll miss one) but hopefully the other three sessions will be fun and helpful.  My art, if you call it that, is mostly doodling and trying to copy exact pencil drawings from adult coloring books.  It's odd that I find that enjoyable, not tedious, because I tend to be slapdash about many things.

My favorite quote from Jane Austen:
 "And pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked."

The first half of January has been the warmest on record in Seattle. We had several days of nice weather, but now we're headed into another long stretch of blustery wet storms that will keep us indoors.

Time goes quickly and we should never wish the weeks of our lives away, but I'm always glad to see the end of long January.  Some of the lucky retired folks in The Ukes are headed off to their Hawaiian condos or long sojourns in Arizona. It's hard not to be jealous of the snowbird lifestyle.

I'm looking forward to February though. I have a trip to Las Vegas planned, and with the return of light it feels like the start of spring in the northwest.  My mantra for the day: positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts.

Have a good weekend.

Camellias

Our pink camellia is just starting to open, always the first real flower of the new year.  Camellias still bloom on every block in old Seattle neighborhoods. They live for decades and some of the bushes are massive.  The flowers are absolute perfection-- until the rain turns them brown and the petals blanket the sidewalks.

I think messy camellias and other old-fashioned blooming shrubs like azaleas have gone out of style. Native to Asia, these plants were brought to England in the 1700's through the British East India Company. In the 1800's, camellias were the height of fashion and the ultimate Parisian luxury flower.  Hot house orchids eventually took their place and camellias were demoted to the garden.

La Dame aux Camelias was written by Alexander Dumas (1824-1895) when he was 23 years old, based on his brief affair with a dying courtesan. The play became Sarah Bernhardt's signature role, and later Verdi wrote the tragic opera La Traviata based on the same story.

Sarah Bernhardt, La Dame Aux Camelias

Speaking of rain, it's back, although the skies are already noticeably less gloomy than December.  In a few days, sunset reaches 5 pm.

Here goes nothing

January 16th is National Nothing Day, the one day without celebrating, observing or honoring anything.  Challenge yourself to do absolutely nothing for 2 minutes:

Going to the luau

My drive to the gym yesterday felt more like a Sunday morning than a typical Monday commute.  What happened to the traffic?  Maybe the media scared people so much with "Viadoom" coverage they just stayed home and pulled the covers over their heads.

John said there were more cars on the bridge than he usually sees at 5 am, but no problems. I guess this is typical for the first days, then folks relax and go back to their regular driving.  We still have at least three weeks until the new tunnel opens. I'm glad I don't have to leave West Seattle. Unless you need a hospital (heaven forbid) just about everything is close by.

The Brookdale Admiral Heights Senior Living facility (a few blocks away) asked The Ukes to play at their luau on Thursday. So yesterday we practiced every single Hawaiian song in our books.  Oh, those seniors are in for a real treat.

 I didn't go to the Brookdale luau last year, but everyone was looking forward to going back. Since The Ukes "play for food," the Hawaiian pupus might have something to do with it.  Anyway, I wanted to see the inside of of place. No, not quite ready to check into assisted living, but it doesn't hurt to know the local options.   

Weather paradise

The weather has been glorious for three days, hitting 60 degrees in some places. It feels so good being outside again. Maryanne and I went over to Vashon Island for a trail ride Friday.

After all the wind storms, we expected more trees down, but the park trails were clear and the woods peaceful in the weak midday sun. I like how Moe's pretty red coat matches the dried bracken. The forest undergrowth is about to bud out, especially if this warm weather continues.

On Saturday, I fired up the grill (Sorry, Midwest!) and made some fancy bacon-wrapped fillet steaks. I found the package in the bargain meat bin at Safeway, three steaks, originally $20, marked down to $10, then half off again. I had no idea how I'd cook them inside, but couldn't pass up a deal like that.

Oh. My. Goodness. The meat was so tender and delicious with the grilled thick apple-smoked bacon.  A totally over-the-top, indulgent dinner, but we managed to save enough leftovers for a fried egg potato breakfast and steak nacho lunch.

I did more yard work on Sunday. Once a year, I reset all the bricks around the flower beds. It's a hands and knees job, and I've learned the hard way not to do too much at once.  I also pruned the roses. 

Then John ventured out on Sunday afternoon to prune the fig tree. Another once-a-year job checked off.

Look at these cute, mischievous faces. It wouldn't be the weekend without a call to our darling girls. They are quite savvy with their Mom's iPhone, and taught Nana how we can take photos of each other while we're Facetiming.

Spring pushes through

I worried that the thick layer of compost we put down last fall might suffocate the bulbs and perennials, but the tulips are already pushing through. That top layer is awfully soggy though, and I don't see any worms. They loved hiding under my leaf mulch. Hopefully they're just hanging out below.

Everything in the yard, from brick to flowerpot to fence, is covered with a scrim of black and/or green mold. Picturesque, if you're into the old vintage garden look.

It was over 50 degrees yesterday and I was doing some yard clean up after all the storms, actually sweating in my fleece jacket and turtleneck. Our neighbor pulled up and seemed shocked I was working outside on such a "cold" day.

When we have amazing weather like this in January and February, it's actually my favorite time of year in the garden.  After the darkest months, just being outside in the weak sunshine is a pleasure. Everything is peaceful, quiet, and full of promise, with only the birds to keep me company.

Well, Seattle has worked itself into a frenzy about the upcoming "Viadoom." It hasn't even happened yet and I'm sick of the whole thing.  Our Mayor Jenny Durkin said on the news this morning we should not drive a car anywhere for three weeks, unless absolutely necessary.  Really?

Anyway, we're staying close to home this weekend.
Hope you have a nice one. 

The Seattle Squeeze

We're just one day away from the permanent closure of the Alaska Way Viaduct.  As if that isn't stressful enough, the local media channels all have those live tickers counting down the seconds, minutes and hours.

We drove on the Viaduct for the last time Sunday when we went downtown to the Art Museum.  I'll miss the wonderful view of Elliot Bay and the Olympics.  

As for traffic, yesterday might be a taste of what's to come.  It was absolute gridlock on my way to the local gym at 8 am.  The cause of the massive backup? Just a truck stalled on the Viaduct. And I wasn't even trying to get out of West Seattle. There are still many unknowns for us-- the tunnel will whisk cars under and through Seattle, but no one knows yet how we will actually get into downtown using surface streets. Stay tuned.

It is so warm!  48 degrees overnight, which is our average high temperature this time of year.  It will get up to 56 today, and we are headed into an amazing stretch of weather. Almost gardening weather. And finally some decent riding weather again.  I haven't been to Vashon Island to see poor old apple-deprived Moe since before Christmas. We're planning to go to the barn tomorrow, in the opposite direction of downtown.

Cheerful (and not so) cheerful sights

The first primroses outside the grocery store yesterday.

Nova, Maya and Amanda in new pussyhats.  Go, girls.

And my favorite, totally indulgent breakfast: Avocado toast with poached egg.

Now, for the not-so-cheerful. This is a satellite picture of the huge, slow moving cyclone parked off the west coast. Yes, I said "cyclone."  The marine forecast is for 35 foot waves and up to 70 mph winds.

It looks pretty scary headed our way, but for inland Seattle, just breezy with rain today. It's still very warm, with highs in the 50's. The birds are convinced spring is coming, and who am I to argue? They say we might finally dry out by the weekend.

Mrs. God

"Woman Before the Rising Sun"

Pool Friedrich

Mrs. God
by Connie Wanek

Someone had to do the dirty work,
spading the garden, moving mountains,
keeping the darkness out of the light,
she took every imperfection personally.

Mr. Big Ideas, sure,
but someone had to run the numbers.
Then talk about babies: he never imagined
so many.

That was part of his charm, of course,
his frank amazement at consequences.
The pretty songs he gave the finches:
those spoke to his

innocence, his ability to regard
every moment as fresh.  "Let''s give them
free will and see what happens,
he said, ever the optimist."

Interesting weekend

 Comfort food deluxe

The last time I made a homemade turkey pot pie was December 15th, 2009.  Is that possible? John would call that sad.  I only know this date because I searched back on the blog.

Turkey pot pie is a kitchen job for a long boring winter afternoon, if you have the perfect ingredients on hand, including leftover white meat and (most importantly) a good amount of homemade gravy. 

Not hard cooking, just labor intensive.  Start by sauteing diced vegetables.

Add a can of chicken broth...

Thicken it slightly with flour paste and simmer until the vegetables are barely tender.

Add your leftover gravy.  This is wonderfully dark and flavorful because I de-glazed the roasting pan.

The filling is ready.  On to the crust(s).

Betty Crocker recipe from scratch, tried and true: butter, flour, salt, ice water. No fancy food processor in this house.

Always a double crust, so the pot pie has that luscious, buttery, gravy soaked bottom.

Finally! Ready to bake until brown and bubbly.

You'll want to dive right in, but it needs to set up for at least a half hour. Not to mention, danger of scalding your mouth as you gobble it down.

Well, a good dinner was some consolation for watching the Seahawks lose their big play-off game in Dallas.

Then late Saturday night, we were hit by a brief but fierce windstorm (60 mph gusts) that knocked out power for about 4 hours.  We rarely lose power in our neighborhood, and never for that long.  We can use our gas range with a lighter, but not the furnace. It was chilly and dark.  And frustrating, because right acroos the street out neighbor's lights were on. We were on one of the "unlucky" power grids in West Seattle.

About the time John brought up his large assortment of lanterns and lit a Duraflame in the fireplace, it came back on.  Gives you more appreciation for the simple things we take totally for granted.  Like electric coffee pots.