The low 60's

Doesn't that sound good? Today should be the warmest day of the year in Seattle, and John plans to mow the ankle high grass just in time for Easter. I'll post some pictures later, because it always looks nice despite the moss. We're as green as Ireland here for a couple more months.  

My brother is coming for Easter lunch, so I finally have someone else to cook for. We're looking forward to it, and he has the honor of being the first guest inside our house since December 2019. How is that even possible?

Talking to my sister-in-law in Florida yesterday, we agreed in some ways it feels like 2020 never happened. The mind skips over all those uneventful months at home and everything blends together. Although looking back at the blog, I still found plenty to yak about. Ha ha.

 

Worm moon

 

Did you catch the spectacular super moon this week?  We've had a couple of clear, bright days but the tradeoff is freezing at night, without our usual blanket of clouds. 

The March moon was supposedly named by Native Americans for the worm trails that appear on thawed ground as spring begins. This is the stuff of the Old Farmer's Almanac, that still refers to all "Native Americans" as a single group.

The salvage crews in the Suez Canal pinned their hopes on this week’s full moon. Water levels rose a foot-and-a-half higher than normal high tide, finally helping to free that massive ship. It's interesting how vulnerable we are to old infrastructures and simple mechanics. All it took was some wind and a little goof to bring world shipping to its knees. 

I was looking back at the blog from last March. It looked like the month of puzzles. We rarely left home for any reason, and the bi-weekly grocery store run at 6 am was a stressful ordeal. I remember wiping groceries and disinfecting the entire kitchen when we got home. Finding wipes and toilet paper was like striking gold.

What a year it's been, both unforgettable and completely forgettable. Talking with my Uke Zoom friends yesterday, there is optimism we'll be able to gather in person before too long, but it will most certainly be outside at first. 

I think some people are too spooked (maybe the word is traumatized) to ever go back to how it was at the Senior Center, all crowded into a stuffy room, singing and playing without a care in the world. Time will tell.

La Nina Spring. Ick.

 

March came in like a lion and goes out like a lion. Yesterday it felt like winter never left. They warned us about this La Nina weather pattern: colder and wetter than usual in western Washington.

High up on the hillside at Amanda and Tom's property, the snow is retreating in the strong sun. That's Maya checking out the fall-planted garlic crop, just starting to poke up. In a few months, this barren patch will look like the Garden of Eatin' again. Everything grows like crazy up there, go figure.

Yesterday a violent storm blew through Seattle with heavy bands of rain and wind. Then it was over. Flocks of birds chattered like crazy all day in the yard, pecking and eating. The robins gobbled worms as fast as they could in the flower beds. Our lawn (mostly moss) must be a good source of insect goodies. The small pleasures of a chemical free yard. Hopefully John can do the first mow before Easter, a tradition along with cleaning the windows.

My sister said the desert southwest has also been cold and windy. Wind is the real scourge of desert living, keeping people inside. April is the nicest time of year in Las Vegas, so we're looking forward to warmer days when we visit them.

Anyway, enough boring weather talk. I think we're finally turning a corner, and they're talking about 60 degrees by the end of the week. On Saturday afternoon the sun came out for a while, quite warm, and I grilled steaks and vegetables. A change from the endless winter soups and stews and stir fries.  But like most people, I'm tired of my own cooking. No matter how good it is.

Another week passes

 

 

The girl's five hens not only survived the winter, but kept laying eggs all though that long, bitter cold weather. How resilient birds are, really. Loving attention and table scraps also helps.

"Resilience" is a word we hear often now. That being said, it's easier to muster some days than others. The weary pandemic drags on. Still we should focus on all the positive.  

Soon there will be glut of vaccine, and the challenge then becomes convincing reluctant and spoiled Americans to take it. Our country failed badly in our initial response to the virus, but perhaps we can show world leadership in another way, and help distribute these wonderful vaccines to more disadvantaged countries. This isn't over until it's over everywhere.

Speaking of the vaccine, there's a big push in Washington to vaccinate the seasonal farm workers arriving in the central part of the state.  These are the folks who labor in our orchards and factories and often live in poor and crowded conditions. 

Amanda worked with Okanogan Public Health yesterday at another drive through clinic in Pateros, where they tested and vaccinated hundreds of people who were very grateful to get the J&J shot. She said the team effort was amazing and this is the most satisfying work she's ever done. We are so proud of her. 

John and I had a nice visit with some old friends last night in their lovely, redecorated home. And now they are getting ready to spend a month in Arizona. (Yes, envy reared it's ugly head.) But Seattle should be nicer in a few weeks. All the trees are ready to burst out in bloom, we just need a touch of warmth. It's been a very chilly spring so far.

Have a good weekend. 

A world without Aplets and Cotlets?

The family-owned Liberty Orchards is closing this spring after failing to find a buyer for the 100-year old company.  A landmark in the town of Cashmere, we've stopped there several times on the way to the Methow Valley to peek at the factory and sample candy in the store.

The family decided a few years ago to sell the business. There were several interested buyers until all talks broke down during the pandemic. 

Founded in 1918 by Armenian immigrants, Liberty Orchards started as an apple orchard, but when the family got into making candy they started using apple concentrate from other producers. Today Liberty Orchards doesn't own an single tree. 

Sweets made with dried fruits and nuts are traditional in Armenia, although the chewy, square confections covered with powdered sugar taste like extra sweet and soft Turkish Delight, one of the oldest candies in the world. 

The company plans to operate the factory until June, telling loyal customers to load up now because the original Aplets and Cotlets won’t be available much longer. 

John bought some yesterday at our local Bartell's Drug Store, another favorite family-run store that's disappearing, having been sold recently to the horrible RiteAid chain. 

OK, enough gloom and doom. Tonight we've having a vaccinated celebration dinner with friends inside their home. Wow. Exciting, but venturing out with some pretty rusty social skills.

Wordless Wednesday

Baby Maya and Nova

Sad

 

Borrachini Bakery, Seattle

When we finally come up for air, it's going to be a different Seattle. The old, eclectic, funky and fun city was already disappearing before the pandemic, and now the pace has only picked up.

The iconic Borrachini's Bakery on Rainier Avenue is the latest casualty, closing after almost 100 years in business.  It's the classic immigrant-made-good story, started in 1923 in the basement of a home by Mario Borracchini, a baker who arrived here from Tuscany.

In 1910, 45% of Italian-descent Seattleites lived in the Rainier Valley, an area known as “Garlic Gulch.” The early Italian immigrants moved here to work in the coal mines south of the city. Later they worked in farms and construction or started small businesses. 

Remo Borracchini was born eight blocks from the bakery. In the early days, they baked more than 50 kinds of bread, and he always boasted about the family’s refusal to accumulate debt.

“Italians don’t believe in debt,” Borracchini said. “We’ve never had a debt in this building in 85 years.”

In recent decades, they were really in the party business, selling dozens of decorated cakes a day. The problem with that is no one has been gathering over the past year to have those parties. So the family made the hard decision to close permanently.

Back in 1993, Remo told the Seattle Times they were making around 110 wedding cakes every weekend. He figured it out that on any given Saturday, "13,780 people were eating Borrachini wedding cakes in Seattle.”

And that included us, married on February 27, 1993. 

I remember going down to the bakery with Amanda (a grumpy teenager at the time) and ordering a cake from their enormous book of selections.  So many choices of flavors, fillings, colors and size! I asked for "blue flowers" and quite pretty it was.  Right before our reception, a young man delivered it right to the house and carefully assembled it. Such service.

It's a sad day when you can no longer get a Borracchini cake in Seattle. Within 5 hours of posting the closure on their Facebook page, there were a 1,000 comments of fond memories.

Reflections

 

It probably won't be long until Palm Springs nightlife looks like this again.  On Saturday the airport was filled with people coming and going. The travel floodgates have opened. Friday night, as we ate dinner in a balcony restaurant, cars were pouring into downtown Palm Springs for the weekend. 

The virus is still everywhere, but it felt different compared to Seattle. Add to that no graffiti, trash, homeless begging or boarded up businesses. People drive around in nice cars and big gas guzzlers, despite the highest gas prices in the country. Maybe it's the warm climate or California vibe, but it feels safer and definitely happier down there. Even so, this trip wouldn't have been possible without our vaccinations and we're grateful.

We had seats near the front of the plane and it was OK, although we waited at the departure gate for a long stuffy time before the engines and cabin ventilation finally started up. The flight attendants were all cheerful. For starters, they're working again. And compared to the old days, it's lighter work. No snacks, meals or alcohol to sell. Just  hand out a small can of soda and they're done with the flight service.  

March 22 is "As Young As You Feel Day." A good thing to remember after a year of constant hammering home our vulnerability and frailty. About 38% of people over 65 are now fully vaccinated. For a short time, our demographic is the lucky one. In a few months, the vaccines will be available to anyone who wants them.

There's no doubt that seniors gave up more than anyone else in lives lost, health lost, and precious lost time. Now they are starting to venture out. We saw pairs of couples obviously getting together for the first time. Seniors are filling restaurants, looking forward to hugging their grand-kids and booking vacations. 

A group of older women took over the pool at our quiet inn and yakked and yakked loudly into the night. They were on a girl's weekend away without their husbands so I don't blame them for being excited.

Back to home, cold home. Yesterday the temperature topped out at 43, with nothing much to do but laundry and grocery shopping.  The shore leave was over way too fast! But we're just getting started.

Vacation mode

The guests here are invited to pick fresh grapefruit and oranges from the courtyard trees. John borrowed the picker and I had a refreshing fruit cocktail for breakfast.

You know, the mind can't automatically switch over to vacation mode, especially after a year like the past one. And vacation takes a certain amount of practice or you lose the knack. The first day or so I was walking around in a haze and nothing seemed real. I could have been anywhere! It was discombobulating.  Then after a while, the mind and body relax enough to actually notice things. 

The pandemic is taken seriously here, mask wearing and such, but it's also the southern California desert, with a totally different vibe from uptight Seattle.  Life is more spread out, open and outdoors.  I look around and see happy faces. Is public smiling illegal in Seattle? Like, yea. It's really beautiful here.

After a very strict lock down things are starting to open up in California. We had dinner last night with friends at a Mexican restaurant in Palm Desert. It was a beautiful warm evening. The patio was busy with a live band (!) and quite a few people in our demographic (probably newly vaccinated) celebrating a first time out. How nice and strange it was to actually converse without a computer screen.  We admitted being out of practice. But being face to face with friends around a table was priceless.

Not that we're relaxed, it's almost time to go home.  Yesterday we strolled around the Moorten Garden, a place we never miss near downtown Palm Springs.  Today, maybe a walk in one of the palm oasis nature preserves.  

Then and now

This is an old postcard of the original lodge. Several of the buildings were constructed in 1921, making them among the oldest in Palm Springs. As I mentioned, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz stayed here often and relaxed in the gardens and pool with friends like Victor Mature. I’m hoping for the ghost of Victor, walking around without a shirt. ☺️

Much of the old building is unrecognizable, but this iconic view of the mountains is the same one movie stars gazed on while lounging in the pool area.  The motel is on the western edge of the city up against the San Jacinto Mountains.  You wouldn't guess we're just a few blocks from the main drag.

This view is one of the things that makes Palm Springs so special. Through hard work, luck and persistence the city fathers and mothers somehow managed to keep the development out of the mountains. No small feat. The valley floor, of course, is a different story. The miles of date palm trees we drove through in the old days are long gone.

But between the serene grounds and unblemished west view, it still feels like a different time and place. 

And here's a different sort of view. We drove out to Desert Hot Springs yesterday. Lady Gaga ate here.  A restaurant scene from "A Star is Born" was filmed inside when she and Bradly Cooper were on that motorcycle trip across the country. Jalisco Tire Store and Restaurant is on the way out to Joshua Tree National Park. We decided to skip the park this time as it's very crowded.

If Gaga didn't have a street taco, she should have.

They were good. We shouldn't have, but then we topped it off with a date shake across the street at Windmill Market.  Another landmark in the Coachella Valley.

Today we'll check out our favorite desert garden in Palm Springs, and tonight meet up with an old friend for Mexican food in Palm Desert, about a half hour south of here.  The weather is warming up nicely and no wind. 

Palm Springs

 

The arrival "crowds" at the Palm Springs Airport yesterday, which is a fraction of the people you would normally see here at the peak of high season.  It was wonderful getting out, although for me the day felt more like walking around in some old forgotten dream. It takes a bit to get your travel legs back after so much isolation. 

Of course there is no vacation anywhere from the pandemic. Fortunately, California is very much like Washington with universal mask wearing.  Like us, the restaurants have just opened for limited indoor dining.  It's a bit surreal seeing so many places empty that would normally be jammed with people this time of year.

We're staying in downtown Palm Springs at a old inn we discovered a couple years ago. All the rooms are wonderful, but our particular villa is especially popular and you have to reserve it far in advance. 

Lucy and Desi Arnez stayed here when they came to Palm Springs to relax in the 1950's.  In fact, the legend goes little Desi Jr. took his first steps in this room. We're in the middle of the city now, but wish I could have seen the inn when it was just a rustic retreat in the desert. It's quite luxurious for us, but hard to imagine the Hollywood stars of today finding delight in two rooms and a small kitchen. 

The grounds are peaceful and beautiful, adults only.  Here's one relaxing outside our room.

There's a swimming pool of course, and each villa has a private patio and outdoor spa tub.

 

We were up at 4 am yesterday so it was a long day.  The weather is chilly, but should warm up later in the week. We sat outside last night and had onion soup and a fruity Margarita for dinner. It was perfect.  Looking forward to nothing but a relaxing day.

Dust bunnies

 

"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" Percy Bysshe Shelley

Spring Easter bunnies on the table, and winter dust bunnies underneath. That strong, slanting afternoon light shows a scrim of dust on every horizontal surface in the house. Egads. On Saturday I cleaned the blinds, the furniture, the floors and the inside windows.

More spring cleaning. That's Nova on family chore morning, tackling their windows in a T-shirt instead of a parka. The piles of snow in the yard are disappearing. 

It was another full week for Amanda (front row, left.) They gave 760 vaccinations at the Okanagan County Fairgrounds drive through clinic on Friday, then several hundred more at Liberty Bell High School in Winthrop (above) on Saturday.  

There's a push in Washington now to vaccinate our teachers, and they're doing good job in the Methow Valley. Demand still exceeds vaccine supply here in Seattle, and no one is optimistic full-time school will start up soon. Nova and Maya are lucky getting 2 days a week of in-person school.   

Daylight savings time. Again we all wonder, why mess with the clocks?  Spring change is harder for most people, losing an hour of sleep. I'm an early morning insomniac, so for a few days it feels like I'm really sleeping in.

Weather whiplash this weekend, after a warm and sunny Saturday a chilly rainy Sunday. I didn't go outside at all, just caught up on laundry and cooked corned beef for dinner. It was good. Packing today for our trip to California, and it might take a while because are seriously out of practice.  I'll check in from the desert later this week.

Plant a Flower Day

 

 

Or how about a herb pot? Parsley, thyme, mint, oregano.  Both pretty and useful.  I've had that china bowl for years and it's quite fragile for an outdoor pot.  My heart might also break when it finally does. I'll never find another one like it.

The sun is out, the sky is blue, the mountains in the distance gleaming white. What's not to like about Seattle in early spring?  Other than the endless days of gloom and chilly rain. Ha. But we have short weather memories here and all is soon forgotten.

Home Depot garden shop was busy yesterday. Everyone looked happy, as far as I could tell with the masks. I think people will go nuts this summer, spending money, having a good time, indulging themselves with old social pleasures. It's been an entire year of no, no, no, you can't do that. 

There was an article in the NYT yesterday titled "Seattle's Virus Success Shows What Could Have Been Done." Interesting. One year after the start of the pandemic, the Seattle area has the lowest death rate of the 20 largest metropolitan regions of the country. 

No big surprise, since we've had strict restrictions in place for over a year, even last summer when cases were low. The public health message has stayed basically the same, not what you want to hear, but the urban public largely complied. 

With so many high tech jobs in Seattle, more people could work from home. That also helped. Now we've finally moved to Phase 3 reopening, which means restaurants can serve at 50% capacity indoors for the first time. There will actually be fans at the Mariner's home opener.

In other parts of the country, life seemed to go on like normal and it's just human nature to resent that. The trade off, of course, was more sickness and death. None of our relatives came down with Covid, in Seattle or anywhere else. Other families and communities were hit very hard. How lucky we are.

President Biden gave an excellent address to the country last night. (I wish his speeches got half as much media attention as his predecessor did!) It was realistic but also hopeful.  The vaccines are excellent, the trends are improving, the county is healing in many ways.  At some point, the constant drumbeat of negativity stops motivating us. We also need optimism and hope for the future. 

St. Patrick's Day is coming up and you know what that means-- corned beef on sale. I'll make ours this weekend. We have "Brigadoon" from Netflix starring Gene Kelley dancing around Scotland. What the heck, it's Celtic.

Loveliest of trees

 

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
 

A.E. Housman (1859-1936) 

Housman was a great classical scholar, but he's best remembered for those "cherry blossom" lines from a set of poems called A Shropshire Lad. A fellow Oxford don described Housman as being "descended from a long line of maiden aunts."  He intimidated his students to the point of tears and didn't even try to remember their names, claiming it burdened his memory too much. Nice fellow.

Well, the first ornamental cherry trees are starting to bloom. The sun gets stronger by the day. I start out bundled up and I'm hot by the time I get home. February was a cold month and spring seems later this year. Or maybe I'm just more impatient. 

West Seattle is really pretty in the spring, thanks to all the homeowners who planted ornamental trees along their parking strips many years ago. That was once illegal, because the property technically belongs to the city. Anyway, Seattle has a program now giving free trees to homeowners if they dig the holes and promise to water them. 

After a year of relative peace and quiet, our neighborhood will soon roar back to life. The school district confirmed that two major projects across the street were approved. No surprise there, since the "community input" phase is really just a formality in the process. The decision was made long ago. 

Construction starts this summer on a large 2-story addition and enhancements to the athletic field, including tall lighting poles for city wide night games. That means even more traffic and parking issues. The school addition will partially block our west view of the mountains and sunsets and we'll also see the light poles. But for the folks living down the hill, those ultra bright lights will be a real annoyance. 

They are putting in artificial turf, which is actually a good thing, as it might deter the dog owners. The school athletic field has basically become an off-lease dog park, even though it is clearly posted "no animals allowed." 

I'd enjoy walking on the track again, but don't go down there because of loose dogs charging up and even jumping on you while their owners stand by smiling at their cute "kids."  I sound like a cranky old thing, but I love trained, sweet natured dogs. It's the inconsiderate owners. And they really don't belong on a children's game field.

I'm in a good mood this morning, as I'm getting a haircut for the first time without worrying about getting Covid.  And yesterday I pulled out some pretty summer clothes I haven't worn for almost two years and washed them for Palm Springs. Everything still fits, although those shorts a bit snugger than I remember? 

Hump day

 

That's Maya, all dressed up for a school costume party. With Baby Yoda, so it must have something to do with a Star Wars character. We are perhaps the only people left who haven't watched The Mandalorian series. 

Today is Wednesday, over-the-hump-day if you have a job. For some reason, I often run out of things to write about. Hence Wordless Wednesday. Why bother to talk when we have nothing to say?  Of course that doesn't stop most people, including me. Ha.

Things are slowly picking up around here. It reminds me a little bit of a train slowly pulling out of the station. It seems to take a tremendous effort at first to get moving again. Did we really do all those things once, and so casually? And I tire more easily these days. 

We have a short trip to California next week. We're spending four nights in Palm Springs, an almost unbelievable treat after a year at home. Then the April calendar looks downright busy, with another trip to Las Vegas and hopefully some real, proper in-person family visits complete with hugs and snuggles. How sick I am of FaceTime and Zoom. 

Looking back, looking forward

 

This is the clematis blooming exactly a year ago. It was a much warmer spring. The January windstorm destroyed it, down to a pitiful brittle stick. I suppose it will eventually grow back, although years until it looks glorious again.  But then, we're all feeling a bit stunted after this long winter.

The March 2020 blog was mostly pictures of home-baking projects and puzzles. We were truly locked down in Seattle, with only the essential businesses open and most people afraid to even leave the house.  The streets and freeways were eerily empty. The sidewalks were chalked with hopeful words. 

We didn't really understand back then how the virus spread, so every object was a potential threat, from our delivered mail to food from the grocery store. Disinfecting wipes, toilet paper and hand sanitizer were like gold. But there was a feeling of the community pulling together, and the belief it would soon be over. Little did we know. 

The experts told us not to wear masks. Amanda had to make a single mask last all day at the clinic. Now, a year later, I have box of cheap disposable surgical masks on my dresser, and wouldn't think of leaving the house without one. How things have changed.

Good news: there are about 7 million people living in Washington, and 2 million have already been vaccinated. All the seniors I know who want a vaccination have been able to get one, and I hope they soon open it up for younger adults. We have many friends in that 55-65 age bracket.  

So after a long and socially isolated year, empty of family visits, holiday celebrations and travel, we're starting to hope and dream and plan again.

 

Space hoggers

 

Garden space hogs must go. I dug out a big clump of Black Mondo Grass and some old root bound Japanese iris from this corner of the bed. Nice to see a bit of open real estate. 

I'm trying to make space for the new inhabitants arriving in the mail soon-- all impulse purchases from the colorful catalogs.  Hey, we were bored this winter. It's kind of like the baby boom after a power outage. Seemed like a fun idea at the time, but then the work starts.

You notice my sparkling white bird bath. We have a bird salmonella outbreak in Washington, spread mostly by flocks of Pine Siskins at feeders. We've supposed to take them down or clean them daily with bleach solution. Of course, no one wants to do that. 

Bird baths are also a disease problem, so I scrubbed it with Clorox. I really enjoy watching the constant bathing outside the window, but now they hate it. Maybe it smells like a chlorinated swimming pool.

Quite chilly this morning and the roofs are covered with frost. But blue skies, and it looks like a mostly dry and sunny week coming up. Nice. 

A couple of cute pictures of Nova and Maya making a spaghetti dinner. They look like kitchen angels, but trust me, they are real live messy girls. 

A good days work

 

That's our Amanda there in the background, working with Lauri Jones, the Director of Okanogan Public Health. They are giving Covid vaccinations at the County Fairgrounds in Omak yesterday.

Amanda said she gave about 70 shots through car windows, and between them, the four working vaccinators gave 350 doses to local residents, including many grateful farm workers.  Way to go, Okanogan County!

What are you reading?

 

Another one of those mornings when I had to remind myself what day of the week.  Friday, already.

I recommend this finely written novel by Amor Towles. The subject seems especially apropos for these pandemic times. The book tells the story of a young Russian count who is sentenced at the beginning of the Revolution to a lifetime of "house" arrest at the luxury Metropol Hotel in central Moscow. 

The hotel is a community in itself, and the Count manages to live a long, rich life without ever leaving the front door.  Moved from his suite to a small attic room, he never complains once about his lost freedom and wealth. Well, it beats the firing squad.

Educated, cultured and sophisticated, he finds work as a headwaiter in the hotel's luxury restaurant. He also raises an abandoned little girl, who becomes a concert pianist. A great book for history buffs who might feel guilty about reading fiction.  (Not me.)

Have a good weekend.

Here comes the sun

 

 

And there goes the sun. Back to clouds and showers today, but Wednesday was a one day wonder. The temperature reached almost 60 and boy, did that feel good. The spring flowers are popping up like crazy.

I set out walking in my usual Queen Mother in Scotland outfit: hood over fleece headband, neck gaiter, heavy pants and winter gloves and I was soon roasting. I can't wait to retire that unflattering outfit to the Goodwill box. I'll forever associate those black stretchy pants from Costco with the pandemic. It's time to squeeze back into the "hard" pants.

Anyway, as soon it it gets above 45 degrees in Seattle, you see people out in shorts and t-shirts. We're a funny bunch when it comes to the weather. Then when it gets above 75, the heat complaining starts.

That's about all the news, except I'm getting my hair done tomorrow.  Not just a furtive haircut while trying not to breathe, but really "done" as in a color foil. I hoped to emerge from this awful year with a shining head of pure silver to show for it.  Ha! Instead there's this mousy thing going on where my hair can't decide what color it wants to be anymore. I'm trying a new West Seattle salon and see what I get-- anything should be an improvement.

Wordless Wednesday

 

Nova, Maya and feathered friends