Backyard nature

How would we get through these long days without nature? What a gift, the Black-capped Chickadees nested in the box for the first time this summer. I can't think of a more delightful bird, everything about them is friendly and cheerful.

We've been watching their babies flit around, also our pair of semi-tame bunnies and many hummingbirds. The red Crocosima Lucifer, their favorite food, is blooming now. Assorted other wild creatures make themselves right at home here, maybe not as welcome, but still fun to watch.  More power to them. 

Nature is unpredictable. After all the fuss, expense and bother, the Mason Bee condo is still vacant. Not a sign of life up there.  I suppose my carefully nurtured hatchlings flew off to find better digs in the neighborhood. Or maybe they went back to Portland. Nothing personal.
 
Another unseasonably cold, wet morning in Seattle.  This is the gloomiest summer we've had in many years, and in more ways than one.  After four straight weekends of rain in Seattle, the Fourth of July finally looks sunny.  Of course, every public celebration was cancelled.

Unfortunately, that means people will go more nuts than usual setting off fireworks all night in the streets.  People are bored, and the Indian reservation fireworks stands must be going gangbusters this week.

"Boom City"

Tulalip

Time warp

It rained so hard on Saturday that poor "Symphony" rose smashed right to the ground. What a shame, since it was at the peak of perfection for the year. The stems couldn't support the heavy wet blossoms, so I cut the broken branches and propped it up. It should bloom again this summer, but not as spectacularly.

June is almost over, how is that possible?  The hours of the day pass slowly, but looking back on 4 months at home, it feels more like 4 weeks. Dad and I were talking yesterday about how quarantine warps our sense of time.

Ironically, June 29 is Hug Holiday, exactly when there is a great deficit of hugs in the world.

How things have changed.  Advice from the good old days on my Holiday Insights calendar:

"Hug Holiday Day encourages us to give hugs to those who need them. On this day, people go out and give hugs at senior citizen centers, hospitals, and other places. The focus is upon elderly, sick and invalid, lonely people and anyone who needs the warmth, cheer, and love that a hug provides."

(There's no substitute for a real hug.)

On the grill

Apparently, a glut of pork products went into the retail food chain after the restaurants closed.  Places like Appleby's and Red Robin used tons of bacon.

So bacon was relatively cheap for a while, and unusual things appeared at the grocery store, like these thick bacon-wrapped pork medallions.  I've bought sirloin steak like this, but never pork.

Not to brag, but these take some pretty advanced grill skills.  Getting the bacon crispy would be almost impossible in a frying pan, not to mention messy, and the broiler would set the oven on fire.

The trick is to balance them on their sides on a hot grill, while turning with long tongs.

The bacon browns in a few minutes and the fat drips harmlessly into the grill pan below.  Which is easier than cleaning the entire kitchen.  After the bacon is crispy all around the meat, just finish cooking on indirect heat with the lid closed.  Pork tenderloins are almost fat free and tend to be dry, so the bacon gives them a nice smoky flavor.

I made chicken skewers last night with peppers and onions. The sauce "recipe" is just equal parts barbecue and teriyaki.  Which sounds weird, but actually tasted like the best of both, and less overwhelming than most bottled barbecue sauce.

A healthy side dish. What is quinoa, anyway? I always forget.  It reminds me of bird seed millet. Actually pretty tasty, especially if you cook it in a can of chicken broth.

OK, I'm getting hungry and it's only 9:30 am.

I should take my walk, but it's been raining all morning in Seattle. Wonderful for the garden, but makes for a gloomy summer weekend morning.  We'll be lucky to see 60 today, which makes Seattle  the chilliest place in the country.

Have a good weekend.

Soos Creek Botanical Garden

Described in their brochure as a "unique pairing of garden and history," this is another out-of-the way place we've somehow missed. It's about a 45 minute drive from Seattle, in the city of Auburn. 

The garden is located on a 22 acres of former farmland.  Maurice Skagen acquired the first 5 acres in 1968, and began to develop the current gardens.  At the time it was overrun with blackberries and alders, although it had some large native trees such as Western Red Cedar, which are still there.

Maurice toured gardens in England and Japan, where he was inspired to create these "stroll gardens."

He also purchased unusual plants and trees on his travels, and bought many more from Northwest specialty nurseries.

It's a peaceful setting, and we had the place pretty much to ourselves.

Afterwards, we ate a drive-thru hamburger in the car then headed home. It was a peaceful little nature break smack in the middle of busy urban area. 

Sittin' on the dock of the bay

Seattle skyline from Alki Point

I'm back. Our Internet service went down early yesterday morning, and by the time Centurylink got their act together again, my blogging energy had flown the coop.  

On Tuesday afternoon, I drove down the hill and sat for a while looking at the water.

There were lots of people walking along the beach at low tide. But the bay itself was weirdly quiet, not a pleasure boat or cargo ship in sight, and just a single ferry coming in to the Seattle dock. Most conspicuously absent from the summer waterfront? The massive Alaska cruise ships. The cruise industry has been decimated. 

Speaking of weird times, here's a local news story. Alki Point is an exclusive neighborhood, lined with million dollar view condos.

Over the weekend, some teenagers spotted a suitcase washed up on these rocks. Being curious kids, they went down to investigate. The suitcase was smelly. Extremely smelly. Naturally, they posted a (now viral) video on TikToc.  You can just imagine that, with girls screaming and scrambling around on the rocks.

The police finally arrived hours later. By then, the tide had washed the suitcase out to sea. A police boat eventually retrieved it.  The gruesome contents?  You guessed it. Human remains, now "under "investigation."

So far, they're being pretty tight-lipped about it.  Oh, the things that can wash up in your own backyard.

Complacency

It was already getting light at 4:30 when I woke to the not-so-lovely sound of crows. They're in a tizzy because the young are leaving the nest, and even the sight of a passing racoon sets them off.

Another perfect summer day ahead. How to fill the long hours? Warm and not a cloud in the sky. I'll make one of those small Cornish game hens on the grill tonight. Once upon a time, we could (and would) eat a whole each, now we share. Dinner and wine time are the highlight of the day. Living boiled down the basics, after almost 4 months stuck at home.

A friend who lives in the neighborhood dropped by yesterday to see the garden. That was nice, although a bit stressful. We visited strictly outside; she was meticulous with the 6-foot social distancing, wouldn't touch anything, sit down, or even smell the flowers. Paranoid? Maybe, but I'll take that, over the casual gathering I went to last week.
 
As this drags on there's the potential for more awkward social situations. A public health crisis is not about politics, but everyone isn't on the same page, not even in mask-wearing, liberal Seattle.

At the Metropolitan Market yesterday, I noticed more complacency about social distancing. More complacency about everything, even as the numbers go up. Despite all of our sacrifices, the pandemic hasn't gone away. Masks are a constant reminder of that, and people just don't want to see them.

The news

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.  At 6 am, the sunlight was already pouring through the rain splattered windows.  And lighting up the dust.  Monday was once my housecleaning day, but since I'm home all the time now, meh.  

Yesterday I made John gnocchi for Father's Day, his favorite food.  He would probably take gnocchi over steak or lobster, go figure. That's probably because he only gets it a couple times a year.

I made them by hand, so they're softer than those bullets spit out by the hand-cranked Bee-Bo gnocchi maker.

As was pointed out, these are somewhat misshapen, a quality control issue that does not affect taste. Next time, I might delegate that "fork part" to the former Boeing airplane technician.  I'm sure there's a YouTube video on it.

Amanda sent me this picture of the hens enjoying some garden greens. How big and lovely they've grown.  Good job, girls. They had a close call this weekend with "Basil," the pretty black and white speckled one.

She suddenly became quite sick! Lethargic, not eating, one bleary eye open. They isolated her in a straw box away from the rest of the flock, and Nova did her best job nursing over the weekend.

There isn't much to be done for an ailing chicken, other than offering electrolytes. (Hope for the best, expect the worst.)  But after a couple days, she was pecking as normal and ready to go back with her girl friends in the coop.  A chicken miracle.  I told Nova, maybe she ate too many greens and got a tummy ache.

And the winner is?

Our Dad is rarin' to go with a brand new walker. My sister Marji organized a family contest yesterday to find a nickname for his set of wheels.  The entries:

Chickin Licken
Zoomer
Rocky Runner
The Doodler
Wally
Red Racer
High Roller
Sitter
Rocket
Sparky

And he's made the decision.  Zoomer!  Way to go, Julie. Good one.

But the real winner here is our wonderful Dad.  Happy Father's Day from your loving family. 

Social distancing

That's Nova and Maya, hanging out safely with their friends on a bike ride last weekend. And showing us that children are sometimes capable of better self-restraint than adults.

I was invited yesterday to a small backyard gathering in the neighborhood. It sounded like a good idea, to break out of this lonely rut and see a few old acquaintances. I left, just as soon as I politely could. No masks, shared buffet finger food and very casual social distancing. Yes, we were outside, but still?

Worst of all, I had to hear various theories (from the Internet, so they must be true, right?)  that Covid fatalities were exaggerated, and it was less dangerous than the flu. Someone said it was "impossible" to get infected outside. I wish that was true, but do we really know?

Everyone there was over 70, so that was interesting. Yes, we all want to believe what makes us happy. Understandably, people are so weary with social isolation. But after all this sacrifice, I'm not ready to throw caution to the winds. Or maybe we've just been living in this safe bubble for too long. I was quite shook up when I got home.

These are confusing times, and the story keeps changing. Have a good weekend.  Be safe. Stay well. 

Morning

It's a lovely morning here in Seattle. And I can't remember the last time the sun came up in a perfectly clear blue sky. 

Sunrise 5:11 AM. 
Sunset 9:10 PM.

Loss and Gain
by Henry Wasdworth Longfellow

When I compare
What I have lost with what I have gained,
What I have missed with what attained,
Little do I find room for pride.

I am aware
How many days have been idly spent;
How like an arrow the good intent
Has fallen short or been turned aside.

But who shall dare
To measure loss and gain in this wise?
Defeat may be victory in disguise;
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

The new status symbol

I got a haircut yesterday and feel more like my old self again. Those pony tails and buns were getting real old. If Judy Woodruff, my PBS hero and role model, was brave enough to get a haircut, why not? She always looks wonderful on the evening news. You're not fooling me, that is not a Covid hairstyle.

I was the first and only person in the shop, masks were worn. I had to sign in and have a temperature check. It's sad how such a simple thing suddenly became fraught with stress and anxiety.

It was the closest I've been to another person in over 4 months (other than my dear husband, of course.) After months of avoiding people, I had this uneasy, guilty feeling I can't even describe.  It felt like adultery, or something bad!  Ha. I hope Covid hasn't made us permanently weird and antisocial.

We're finally catching a break in the weather after living under the murk all month.  A few very long and very bright days ahead, just in time for the Solstice. Rain returns for the weekend. 

Wildlife photography

Bear #399

June 15th is "National Nature Photography Day." Did you catch the wonderful story in news this week, about one of the oldest grizzly bears living in the wild? 

Not only did she survive another harsh Grand Teton winter, she emerged from hibernation with 4 cubs. The 24-year old, 350 pound bear has 22 descendants.

Way to go, Big Mama 399.

Here's an enchanting video:

What is that wonderful smell?

Honeysuckle vine, blooming by the old shed. The fragrance described as "mouthwatering, sweet, fruity and warm, with hints of honey and ripe citrus."  Sounds like a nice dessert wine.

And our neighbor's bees agree.  Interesting, how they put their bee noses up at the equally heady fragrance of jasmine.  Tender jasmine isn't a native species, so perhaps not in their DNA like the seductive Honeysuckle.

"Juneuary" strikes again in Seattle with another wet, cool, gloomy Monday morning. We've had rain on 9 of the past 10 days, and each day since June 3 has been officially rated as "cloudy." Meaning 80% or more cloud cover during the day.
Uncle! 

But oh my, when the sun peeks out for an hour, it's blindingly bright so near the Solstice. There was a brief dry spell yesterday afternoon, so I weeded and John got a mow in before the rain returned last night.

Nothing much to say about the weekend, which was pretty much like the last 14 or so. Have we really been home that long? I was bored enough to put out a 750 puzzle from my sister, full of diabolically similar grey and blue pieces.

A moody lighthouse to match our weather.

Our future

"Little House on the Prairie" was yesterday. Today is Nova and Maya, walking in a socially-distanced, Black Lives Matter march in their small hometown in central Washington.

Here's to the generation that changes the world for the better.
We're very proud of you. 

Pioneer girls

That's Nova and Maya, adorably dressed up to watch "Little House on the Prairie" reruns, their favorite family program these days.

Doesn't this bring back the memories?

One foot in front of the other

I walk the same 2-mile loop almost every day. I could head in any direction and vary the scenery, but after a while, houses are just houses, sidewalks are sidewalks. This way I don't have to make decisions and can think about anything, or better yet, nothing at all.  Walking meditation is easier said than done.

Anyway, I'm not in any worse or better shape than before, so that's something. This outdoor walking is probably healthier than the treadmills at the gym. Wonder if I'll go back when they finally open?

Our local traffic is picking up again, but still nothing like it was before, with cars speeding around these narrow streets in a mad rush. It's still pretty peaceful walking around the neighborhood. I wonder sometimes if this experience will permanently change us, make us kinder, slower, more appreciative of the small things?  Or just make us more scared of each other?

This feeling is irrational like most jealousy, but it seems like other people are starting to get out and do more than us. Travel, see friends and family. We've been sequestered at home for almost 4 months, which starts to change a person. Last night I dreamed we were at Disneyland, no masks, no social distancing, and it felt terrifying. 

Wordless Wednesday

Hot Cowboys

Maxfield Parrish

The jungle

Despite all my complaints, this cool, wet spring weather has been a bonanza for the garden. About now, I'm usually complaining about dragging around hoses instead. I'll take the rain.

Free water is falling like manna from the sky this morning. The roses are just getting started. When the sun came out yesterday afternoon, I took a few pictures.

The resident wildlife.

Monday

I hope my hairdresser can open his shop again soon.  So another week begins, looking exactly like our past 15. Meaning, the same home routine and not a darn thing on the calendar.

The sun tries to peek out, but we're in a persistent grey and wet weather pattern. So chilly that the furnace has been running all morning. June is typically a disappointing weather month here. The old saying goes that summer doesn't start in Seattle until the 4th of July. True.

King County is very tentatively re-opening, but the mass protests, still happening every night, are worrisome. I'm sympathetic to the cause, but it looks like an excellent way to get sick, even in non-pandemic times. The next few weeks will tell.

On Saturday, thousands of of people held a peaceful rally, crowded into The West Seattle Junction (above.) This is about 6 blocks from our house, and I heard the march go by on California Avenue. It looked like many parents brought their children along for a teaching moment.

These times are so confusing, you begin to lose sense of what is (and isn't) a good decision. Especially because there's so little useful health data about Covid.

Some of our friends are returning to their old routines, visiting family and getting out again. We've given up so much during these past months at home, so that's understandable. But?

Good girls!

"We wear because we care."

Sweet

Sweeter than homemade blueberry cobbler?
These precious faces. Oh, how we miss them.