So long 2019

I'm tempted to say good riddance 2019, after the heavy load of news we had to digest this year. But now, new things to look forward to in 2020. Like the elections?  OK, not many sane people would call elections "fun," but get ready anyway. Please, please vote. Our country could change again quickly, and hopefully for the better.

In Seattle, a stormy start to the New Year with thunderstorms and high winds that might cancel the Space Needle fireworks. I can't ever remember that happening.

We'll be tucked up at home, watching the Downton Abbey movie if the red envelope arrives today. Homemade pizza, then a roast beef dinner for New Year's day. And tomorrow morning, I'm taking my new Belgium waffle maker out for a spin.

Happy New Year, dear family and friends.

Yes
by William Stafford

It could happen anytime, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That's why we wake
and look out--no guarantees
in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.

Precious cargo

A peaceful winter scene

Willamette River

We made a quick trip this weekend to visit some old friends in Milwaukee, Oregon. They have a beautiful house, workshop and garden designed for their hobbies and interests. It was inspiring-- I filed away lots of ideas for that retirement dream home someday. We had a wonderful time. Thank you Nancy, Frank and Mark for the warm hospitality! 

Nancy volunteers with the backyard wildlife program, helping homeowners meet the criteria for certification.  (I have to admit, that sounds more interesting than selling old shoes at a thrift shop.)  Anyway, she was a font of knowledge on natural plants, birds and insects, so we enjoyed talking about many of our common interests. 

Remember this bee barn I bought at Costco last year?  Nancy answered all my questions about setting it up, and even sent along a precious container of live Mason Bee larvae that should hatch in a few months.  In the meantime, they will sleep out in the garage where it stays cool.

I transferred them to this sprout growing jar, safe from nibbling mice, which I thought was rather ingenious of me.

Of course I have to remember to open the top before the weather warms and they hatch. Then they can escape, and hopefully move into their deluxe new Seattle home under the eaves.

 

For the Time Being

The last big breakfast for six. The kitchen sure got a workout these past few days. It looks it. Ditto the cook! Hey, when does the maid show up? Ha ha.

The family packed up and just left, the truck fully laden and on to their next adventures. What a good time we had. We miss them as soon as they leave, we always do. But after the holidays, there's that nice feeling too, when life settles back into our usual staid winter routine.

Reminding me again every year, of this after-Christmas poem, by W.H. Auden:

For the Time Being 

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back in their cardboard boxes-
Some have gotten broken-
And carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school.
There are enough left-overs to do, warmed up, for the rest of the week,
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, and attempted-quite unsuccessfully-to love all of our relatives,
And in general
Grossly over-estimated our powers.
Once again, as in previous years,
We have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as a agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep his word for long.
The Christmas feast is already a fading memory,
And the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all now, be far off...
But for now the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays.
The streets are much narrower than we remembered;
We had forgotten the office was as depressing as this.
For those who have seen the Child, however dimly,
However incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be,
Grew up when it opened... 

One for the memory books

Santa came...

Happy girls on Christmas morning.

Navigating the aftermath.

Nova, Amanda, Maya and Uncle Dave.

 The annual family portrait on Christmas Eve.

And Santa remembered everyone. 

Merry Christmas to all

And to all, a good night.

Christmas Eve

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...

A nice day for clams and ducks

That's John, under an umbrella at the Seattle waterfront. And what's missing from the picture?  The crumbling, roaring, elevated traffic viaduct is finally history. Chopped up and hauled away.

With that concrete barricade gone, it opens up a new view of the city from the water. And for those old buildings across the street, once smack up against the viaduct, a nice view of Elliot Bay and the Olympic Mountains. Valuable real estate, and those will probably get torn down for high rise, luxury condos. Progress marches on in Seattle.

It was raining so hard Saturday, we almost didn't go downtown for our annual holiday treat. But hey, it's Seattle, you can't be deterred by a little water falling from the sky.  OK, lots of water. I've never seen it rain that long and hard.

So we decided to take Uber, and went first to the "Flesh and Blood" exhibit currently on at Seattle Art Museum.

Beautiful Italian masterpieces from the Capodimonte Museum in Naples.  Some the paintings were huge and lurid, but I especially liked the haunting portraits of popes, aristocrats and common people.

Afterwards, we didn't feel like tackling the jammed Pike Place Market searching for a place to eat, so we walked down the long, wet stairways to the waterfront.

And got a nice window table at Ivar's Acres of Clams, a Seattle landmark restaurant started by Ivar Haglund in 1938.  

We both ordered cioppino and it was delicious. Clams, mussels, shrimp and salmon in a spicy fennel broth. And last but not least, my visit with the dancing Santa Clam in the lobby. John declined.

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

Nova and Maya, on an evening sleigh ride at Sun Mountain Lodge. 
Over on the cold side of the mountains, the rain comes down white.

Welcome Solstice

December 20th was the wettest day in the last DECADE in Seattle. That's saying something in our soggy climate. It was also the darkest day on record in Seattle, since they started measuring sunlight with instruments at the University of Washington. We've had over 4 inches of rain in 36 hours, and the soaking goes on this morning.

But things are looking up. Tonight is the Winter Solstice, when we officially begin the long crawl back to light and spring.  

Candied walnuts

I had a half pound of walnut halves left from baking, so I pulled out a favorite recipe for honey walnuts. Walnuts get rancid quickly and I hate to waste them.

These are wonderful with cheese, salad and even in Asian stir-fries. Baked with just a light glaze of sugar and honey, they aren't nearly as sweet as store bought candied nuts.  Walnuts are one of the very healthiest nuts, so why ruin them with gobs of sugar.

The recipe starts with an unusual step: boil the nuts for 5 minutes. Drain them in a colander, then set aside.  In a larger saucepan, mix together 2 tbs. honey, 2 tbs. sugar and 2 tbs. water plus a big pinch of salt.  Bring that mixture to a boil, then add the hot nuts.  Stir constantly until they look dry-- this takes a few minutes.

A word about honey. Buy the good stuff. Back in 2011, we could still get this beautiful French honey in a tin. Maybe the French decided to keep it all for themselves (can't blame them) because it went off the market.

Well, the German bees also know a thing or two about making delicious honey! This was a great find, at Ross of all places, for about $8. I look for more whenever I go to that crazy store.

OK, back to the recipe. Once the liquid has evaporated and the nuts look dry, spread them on a sheet pan lined with foil.  Bake in a 350 degree oven.

Turn them every few minutes until they turn rich, dark brown.  Be careful, because they burn in the twinkling of an eye.

These babies won't last long.

Dream bars and Dreamliners

Yesterday was "Bake Cookie Day" and so I did. Two batches of coconut dream bars (everyone's favorite and frankly a pain to make) then a bunch of decorated cookie airplanes for John to take to work today. My annual holiday contribution to the dedicated Boeing workforce. Over the years, surely I've made a cookie for every single employee?  I'm cookied out for another year.

The rain held off yesterday and I walked to the store. My lower back is bothering me and I hoped the exercise would help. Honestly, this cold and damp climate is hard on the old bones. Those snow birds are really onto something.

It was a nice uneventful afternoon in retail land. Not to brag, but I'm getting pretty good at my cashier job. Probably because I've now worked through the entire list of common mistakes, at least once, and I tend to learn from my goofs. For some reason, people had wads of money to spend yesterday.  Real money.  Was it social security day? Usually folks are thrown into a tizzy because they can't charge a $2 coffee mug (we have a $5 minimum for charges.)

Next Wednesday is Christmas, then the following New Years Day, so I'm on furlough for a couple of weeks. I'm ready for a break from the store. I've only missed one day since I started last spring.

I still have quite a bit to do before Tuesday and most of it revolves around food, my favorite subject. I got in a final trip to Costco on a dry day. Yea. Purgatory?  Pushing a loaded cart across the vast Costco parking lot in the pouring rain.  I bought a nice smoked ham for Christmas dinner. At least I hope it's good, the big thing is wrapped in gold foil so you can't see what you're buying.

The kids are too excited to eat on Christmas morning, and by afternoon, too tired and distracted with their new stuff. After weeks of preparations, I just wish the holiday stretched out longer. It's a awful lot to pack into a single day. Both for children and adults.

Wordless Wednesday

The Ghost of Christmas Present

"A Christmas Carol" movies

Inversions

Amanda took this sparkling picture last Sunday on a hike in the mountains. Behind the girls, far below, see that layer of clouds filling the Methow Valley.  This happens when the air temperature increases with elevation, the opposite of normal.

We have winter inversions in Seattle occasionally. It's nasty, because pollutants and cold, foggy air gets trapped on the surface.  Inversions are a nice thing to look DOWN on.

Nothing like that this week in western Washington. We'll be squeaky clean after several inches of incoming rain. Heavy snow in the mountains.  I say, get it over with now, before the family drives over the passes on the 24th.

Speaking of Christmas, in a week it will be over. How about that? Except for the mess, that is, ha ha. I still need to get the house ready for company, put the leaves in the table, and plan the meals. Buy the food. Our usual Christmas lunch is ham with scalloped potatoes. Green salad. Fruit salad. Cheesecake for dessert. Fresh lemonade. The sugar cookies still need to be decorated, the dream bars haven't been made yet. Cookie platters made for friends and work. And a final trip to Costco today, before it really starts raining.

Well, I won't get it done lying in bed, blogging and drinking coffee. Till tomorrow, Ciao.

December 15

Today is National Lemon Cupcake Day. Marji's preserved lemon peel made these humble cupcakes special. Honestly, I'm not much of a baker.

The quiche turned out OK, but why did the crust stick to the pan like glue? It was much better for breakfast this morning, go figure. Anyway, everyone said they liked it, and what a nice time we had visiting. Such a dear group of precious friends.

Our old craftsman house is small but pretty, and decorated at Christmas, I have to admit, quite beautiful. The tree is covered in heirloom ornaments. No one could understand how I could possibly want to move somewhere else.

Like some sour Grinch, I pointed out things like my kitchen "pantry" in the far corner of the basement, endlessly carrying laundry up and down steep steps, the tiny bottleneck of a kitchen, lack of parking, the noisy, built-up neighborhood, and so on. It fell on deaf ears. 

Well, sometimes it helps to see our familiar, taken-for-granted things through the eyes of others. Surely the secret to happiness is hanging on to your dreams, and at the same time, appreciating what you have at the moment.

You might wonder what does this dream house of mine look like?  How about a low-slung ranch style adobe, with a spacious floor plan and private courtyard. Birds. Fountain. Quiet. A sunny climate wouldn't hurt, either.

This is definitely not Seattle.

Friday

Officially, winter doesn't even start for about a week. The TV weathermen are excited this morning because it's snowing heavily in the mountains.  The ski areas can finally open and travel looks dicey over the passes.

In a typical winter, down in the lowlands, we are treated to cold rain, while snow dumps by the foot up in the mountains. Of course, last year was anything but typical, with record February snow in Seattle. Who knows? 

Anyway, we like the Solstice in the Northwest because more than the start of winter, it signals the slow return of light and spring. The garden is such a sad and soggy sight.  This is the one time of year it's hard to believe it was ever beautiful, or will be beautiful again. (See above sad canna lily.) But by late January, the first bulbs are poking up and we've already turned the corner. Or so it feels.

Fortunately, there's plenty to keep us busy indoors in December.  Tomorrow I'm hosting a lunch for some old friends from the barn where I once kept my horse Sizzle. My, those happy days seem almost like a dream now.  Anyway, these nice barn ladies seldom see each other anymore, and never all at once, so it should be fun.  I'm making quiche and salad, with lemon cupcakes for dessert. Thank you Marji, for the delicious lemons from the sunny south!

Have a good weekend. 

Bucks County farms

Mom in front of the "Hill Farm"

In the 1940's, our maternal grandparents Herman and Anna (along with their grown daughters Margaret and Ruth) moved from Philadelphia to this farm on the outskirts of Quakertown, PA. They raised rabbits and sheep for meat, and kept an orchard and garden on a few acres.

Those old immigrant Germans were quite frugal and resourceful, so they were probably self-sufficient here for a few years. But our grandfather had restless feet, and they later moved to Colorado. That's another story.

Anyway, this farmhouse is where dad asked Herman for the hand of "city girl" Margaret, who became his wife in 1947. We three kids followed soon after. The Hill Farm was close to our own dairy farm, and I remember happy times there with Dutzie and Grandpa, especially on holidays like Christmas and Easter when they had bunnies and lambs.

Dad said yesterday that the Kenneth Nunamaker painting on the blog looked just like the Hill Farm. I agreed, so I dug out that picture taken of mom, on a visit to Pennsylvania in 1995.  

Yes, the houses are indeed very similar, especially how they sit above the road. However, the roof line is slightly different, and Herman and Anna's house didn't have the upstairs sleeping porch. Of course, the artist may have taken liberties with these things.

There were once dozens of small farms like that scattered through rural Bucks County. The old picture above is our Grammy's farm, where dad grew up in a large extended family.

And it also reminds me of other farm paintings by Nunamaker. I'm so glad we stumbled on this beautiful and evocative artist.