Nurse extraordinaire

 

 

OK, these past months, we've all watched hundreds of Covid shots going into arms on TV.  And if you watch enough and look closely, they all look different-- some quick as can be, and others rather slowly and painfully drawn out. Ouch.

Giving "good" shots is both an art and a skill. And lots of practice helps. And nurses are often better at it than doctors. Our Amanda gives thousands of shots at work, and now thousands more Covid immunizations at the county vaccination sites and migrant worker farms. Patients often compliment her on quick, almost painless shots.  And it doesn't hurt that the nurse is darn pretty. 

I love that vaccination belt with the supply of alcohol swabs.  Step right up. Way to go, Amanda, we're all proud of you.

Busy bees

 

 

The Sparta apple tree is covered in lovely flowers. Not the greatest apple for eating, but they make excellent applesauce. It was a fortunate bloom this year, starting during that record warm week. Sometimes the weather is cold and wet and the pollinators aren't active.

Speaking of bees, the neighbor across the street added a second hive.  They visit all the time and are deliriously happy when our allium and lavender blooms. Maybe we should get a cut of the locally sourced organic honey? Ha.

Two years later, the plum tree recovered from that last resort pruning. There's some tiny dots of green fruit inside each pollinated flower. Homemade plum chutney again, if the aphids stay away.

I have 8 hours of Zoom meetings scheduled today and tomorrow with CHI Franciscan Hospice Volunteer Program. This completes the training requirements I've been working on for the last year. I'm now a "Certified End of Life Specialist." 

That sounds more impressive (and grim) than it really is. But even with all the training, I still wonder if I'm capable of this job. In the end, all you can do is keep an open mind and heart. It's been quite a learning journey already.

The final step is an in-person screening at the hospital, where you get a photo badge and items like PPE to finally visit patients in homes and nursing facilities. This has been a very difficult time for providing hospice services, and I know they're eager to get the volunteer program restarted.

Howdy

  

Bunny sat on his hinds legs just watching me for several minutes yesterday.  Probably wondering what I was doing in "his" garden.

See him in there? Home sweet home.

As for more useful gardens, look at all the taters going in on Amanda and Tom's hill property. And the giant fall-planted garlic crop already coming up. 

It's been a nice week in Seattle, not especially warm yet but periods of blue sky and sun.  The trees are suddenly leafing out in that beautiful green-gold color.

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

Arrowleaf balsamroot

 

Maya and Nova

For a few weeks in the spring, the brown hills above the Methow Valley come alive with green grass and wildflowers. Yellow Balsamroot is a flashy member of the Aster family and looks like a sunflower. Wide-spread across the western United States, botanist Meriwether Lewis collected a specimen in 1806. 

When young, all parts of the plant are edible, no doubt packed with vitamins for a potent spring tonic. The leaves have a slight citrus flavor, and the seeds were an especially valuable source of food and oil for Native American groups. 

An annual hike though the balsamroot bloom is de rigueur for Valley residents on a sunny spring day.

And the photos below, taken in May 2016, remind us how quickly little girls become big girls.

 

Colorful

 

Is there anything prettier than a perfectly symmetrical camellia blossom? They're especially nice right now because we haven't had any rain.  (That's about to change.)

The ornamental trees are finished, and now there's a new parade of eye-popping colors on my walks, like these swaths of magenta azaleas.

And the rhododendrons blooming in all colors. I've walked the same loop for over a year now, so it's kind of like seeing old friends again.

This shrub is everywhere. It looks delicate but tough as nails, an old variety of japonica called Mountain Snow Pieris.

Speaking of old friends, we're having lunch on Saturday with Betsy and Paul at their home in Kirkland. They were our our seatmates for many years at the Seattle Symphony. 

And speaking of the Symphony, they plan to resume in-person concerts in the fall and John has already renewed our season subscription. Fingers crossed it works out, although this will probably be a very different audience experience going forward.

Have a good weekend.

Summer all gone

Early summer, that is.  After a record-breaking stretch of warm, cloudless April days, we're back to Seattle grey with rain coming in for the weekend, which we need. 

It's a slow news morning. I made a trip to Costco yesterday. Bless them, they still open slightly early for at risk shoppers, and all of us were snatching up the beautiful geraniums, a big favorite of the senior set. 

I remember last April we weren't going anywhere at all, much less Costco, and I made a single quick and frightening run to Home Deport to buy a few annuals. What a big deal it was, and how far we've come since those dark days. Onward.

Busy birds

 

Crows nest only once a year, putting all their eggs in one basket, so to speak. Our neighborhood crows are a bit quieter now, because they don't want to bring unwelcome attention to the nests. And you see fewer hanging around with nothing to do. 

Yesterday I threw a bit of old cheese in the yard and it was still there a hour later, something that would NEVER happen in the winter, when we're under constant crow surveillance.

Baby crows don't leave the nest until they are adult sized, unless they fall out too early, which is why it seems like you never see them.  

But in a few weeks we'll start hearing a ghastly gagging noise, which is the big babies still begging to be fed, as they trail their parents learning the ropes.  Such as, the yards where cheese sometimes falls from heaven.

Bean sprouts

 

Remember when you could grab a handful of loose bean sprouts in the produce department and stuff them in plastic bag? And a hippie sandwich wasn't complete without raw alfalfa sprouts. 

Now sprouts are a pretty much a no-no, especially for people who are immune compromised. They're grown in warm, moist conditions also perfect for growing illness-causing bacteria. But what's a bowl of pho without that mound of mung sprouts on the unsanitary condiment plate? 

Anyway, how many things can a person worry about? The sprouts in this stir fry came from a sealed plastic bag labelled organic, with a high price tag for reassurance. 

They were just the thing for a retro chow-mein type dish with crispy noodles.

Bean spouts and crispy noodles take me back to this dreaded childhood dinner.  Our mom was a good cook and especially liked baking, but like most housewives of her generation, she took full advantage of the convenience of canned and processed food. In the 1950's, La Choy was considered "oriental food."

Something about the combination of hard noodle with the slimy canned vegetables and weird brown sauce. Ugh. John says his mother also made it, and being a supremely picky eater, he probably refused to eat it. But believe it or not, he still likes these crunchy noodles with a homemade stir fry, of course.

The lovely month of April is flying by, as it always does. The Seattle sunny streak continues until the weekend, when we finally get some welcome rain. I've never seen the garden so dry this early in the year.

The bluest skies you've ever seen

This past week Seattle had more cloudless days in a row than all of last summer. "Cloudless in Seattle" means a perfect 0, as in, zero cloud cover. Rare.

We left in winter and came home to full-on summer. On Saturday, the airport reached a record high of 80 degrees. 

Of course, hungry and tired, we hit a traffic jam coming back into West Seattle via the congested detour route. It looked like thousands of cars headed down to Alki Beach to cool off and enjoy the cloudless sunset. 

I’ve said it many times, how North-westerners go slightly nuts (not in a good way) on the first warm day. We're surrounded by apparently tempting bodies of ice cold water to jump in: Puget Sound, lakes, rivers. 

Wow. There are more tulips under there than I thought, but they only lasted a few days in the heat. Soon I need to clear out that messy foliage to make room for other things. Everything is coming up gangbusters, even the lilies I planted last fall finally starting to show their healthy heads.  

 

 

There's a few more bulbs waiting at the post office. This is a big gardening week, and I hope to get the tomatoes, pepper and geraniums bought and potted up. 

We stayed close to home on Sunday. I made pork on the grill with the first corn on the cob. Meh. Hopefully better corn on the way. The neighborhood was reasonably quiet, I guess with everyone out recreating somewhere else. 

Next week the middle school kids return, along with the teachers. No more guaranteed parking space in front of the house, but it will be nice seeing some young life over there again.

Listen to the Mockingbird

 

Remember that old song?  It was written in 1855, and has been covered by many artists over the years, including Louis Prima and Bing Crosby.  CLICK HERE for a sweetly sung version by Dolly Parton. 

"Listen to the Mockingbird" is a lively little folk tune with a sad story, about a singer dreaming of his sweetheart, and the mockingbird now singing over her grave. 

The neighborhood Northern Mockingbird (we call him Freddie) entertains us from morning till night. Sometimes he even forgets what time it is, and lets out a few notes in the dark. Mockingbirds are great mimics of other birds and even dogs and cats.  Like the jays, they enjoy making their presence known and are very territorial. 

There are also three species of hummingbirds competing for turns at the feeders, some doves and a small group of California Quail that occasionally drop by.  No lack of entertaining bird action on the patio. And not a crow to be seen. 

It's been windy here in the desert, but this morning is finally still and warm, perfect for sitting out.

The week passed quickly, and my sister returns from Utah this afternoon.  Tomorrow it's "North to Seattle." (Another one of those old songs you'll never get out of your head.)

Have a good weekend. Hope spring has arrived wherever you are.

A desert rose

 

One of the neighbors has a beautiful front yard rose garden, and the colors are unbelievably vibrant in the strong desert light.

This is an established development and you see a little of everything in the yards. It's mostly desert landscaping, but a few people (like my sister) had the foresight to plant deciduous trees years ago, and now they make the neighborhood much more beautiful and interesting, not to mention cooler. 

The many mature palm trees are also pretty, but they don't cast much shade. Perhaps a third of the houses still have a patch of green lawn in front. Now this is considered somewhat politically incorrect, like watering your lawn in Seattle.

Las Vegas is pushing to become the first city to ban ornamental grass, meaning grass that nobody walks on, such as parking strips and around office parks. 

It's interesting how a place with reputation for excess and indulgence wants to become a model for restraint and conservation!

By ripping out this sort of thing, they estimate the region can reduce annual water consumption by roughly 15%.  Las Vegas even offers owners of older properties a rebate to tear out sod — up to $3 per square foot.

The problem is trees and grass help prevent the public health dangers of “urban heat islands.” Green landscaping offsets heat through evaporation. So the proposal is getting some push back, especially in the new upscale neighborhoods. 

No worries this morning, the air is cool, fresh and breezy.  Almost jacket weather although it should warm up to 75 this afternoon.

Resilience

I watched the palm trees yesterday afternoon blowing in the stiff wind, their tops bending and swaying and while the bottoms stayed completely motionless.  What a marvel of nature for such top heavy trees. 

The one in our yard has certainly weathered some Northwest gales. It takes a genuine hurricane to uproot a palm, and even then you can stick them back up and they're fine. Resilience.

Nice dinner last night, we had seared scallops (sorry about your stove top, Marji :-) with a tomato salad and fresh basil from the patio. 

As you see, Doodles is not suffering from any lack of attention. Last night he tried to sleep in John's suitcase, but had to settle for a bed on his dirty clothes on top. All dachshunds love to burrow.

It's another beautiful still morning, although a bit cooler than yesterday with a high of about 75. 

Good morning

 

Just a quick post this morning to let you know all is well and we're enjoying Marji and Dad's beautiful house and backyard. We had a good trip down from Seattle, all things considered. A wonderful reunion last night, complete with take-out Chinese food. It seems impossible it's been over a year since we were together.

A couple pictures of the gentlemen (including spoiled dachshund Mr. Doodles) relaxing on the patio.

Tulip time

 

We don't have as many tulips, because the fancier ones petered out over the years. The red and yellow Darwin Hybrids are the workhorses of the tulip world, but even these strong-looking guys won't ever multiply. What you see is what you get until they eventually dwindle. Only the species tulips naturalize, and while pretty, they aren't nearly as showy.

 

Darwins are the tallest tulips with the largest heads and not at all fussy. The only danger being a tulip bulb in this yard is getting accidentally sliced in half when I'm planting other things. It happens.

How clean and bright they looked in the sun yesterday. Next week is going to be quite glorious in Seattle. Since I'm often complaining about the rainy climate, it might surprise you how quickly the flower beds dry out in the strong spring sun. Our soil is very sandy and I actually watered some today.

We need to arrive at the airport at least 2 hours before our flight tomorrow. The travel rush is on. We're excited about our trip to Las Vegas, and looking forward to some patio time with dad and Marji. I'll check in from the desert in a couple of days.

Spring has sprung

 

West Seattle is beautiful on a sunny spring day. So many ornamental cherry trees planted years ago. I've walked along this street for over a year now, watching the seasons go round. And round again?  Hopefully by fall I can get back to the gym. Exercising on the bedroom floor gets old. As does winter walking.

The elementary schools partially reopened this week, and the normal sight of kids on the playground seems odd.  Opening is very slow here, compared to parts of the country where things never really shut down at all. We might in fact take a step back again in King Country, if cases keep rising. We've been stuck at a plateau for many weeks as vaccination ramps up.

Seattle apparently has the lowest "vaccine hesitancy" of any metropolitan area, with about 70% of people saying they plan to get the shot when they can. And 70% is considered exceptionally high? Goodness. Over on the red side of the state, appointments are already going unfilled. It's tragic really, how a national health crisis became such a political issue. The one time we should all be pulling together.

Well, a few more chilly days and then later next week it warms up nicely for the first time.  We will miss it but don't care, because we'll be on a long overdue visit with my sister and dad in Las Vegas.

Mission accomplished

 

Coconut shrimp tacos, with a side of hand sanitizer.  

Up early, washed and brushed, we got to the Lazy Boy Store promptly at 10 and were met with a sign on the door saying staff was in a training session, and they wouldn't open until 1. Dang. 

Rather than drive home and back, we killed a few hours at Southcenter, which was probably more fun for me than John. We had a good lunch at the Bahama Breeze, then a stop at Barnes and Noble and Macy's furniture gallery.

All the Macy's love seat recliners looked like this. Rather uninviting, chilly leather with electric motors and control buttons. Doesn't John look thrilled? In fact, all the furniture looked the same. The big and boring modern style is really in. 

Lazy Boy finally got around to opening their doors. We gravitated toward this one, just as expensive as the leather numbers at Macy's (go figure) but ten times more comfortable. And a nice soft beige-grey fabric, that should disguise a multitude of stains and sins. 

It's on order now, and by June we'll be sitting pretty. Providing they can get in the basement.  John says "no problem."
 

Cold in the shade, warm in the sun

Weeds, weeds, weeds. I tackled the front yesterday and my back reminds me this morning. There's a strange invasive plant in this bed that looks like a good thing gone bad. I probably planted it once, and now it's come back to bite me. This happens when you pile plants on the same little garden patch for 40 years. Nature always has the last word.

It was a beautiful day and in late afternoon some of the neighbors emerged and started chatting like winter (and the pandemic) had never happened. When the weather is bad here, you can go for months without seeing anyone and you start to wonder if people moved away, or something  happened. It's like a hibernation, except people emerge in a good mood instead of a hungry one. Well, hungry for social contact. Coming here from California, I've never really gotten used it it.

We're going to a furniture store to look at recliners today.  We slump in front of the television downstairs on a reclining loveseat I bought in the early 1990's and it's finally worn out. A metal bar and springs poke into my back putting me in a foul mood no matter what happy thing we're trying to watch.

We  have a problem, this is, finding something small enough to get down into the basement through the narrow door and extra tight outdoor stairwell.  Why is everything so big these days?

A pansy fanatic

That would be Lady Mary Elizabeth Bennet (1785–1861.) She obsessively cultivated every sort of Viola tricolor in her father's garden at Walton-on-Thames, Surrey.  

Eventually she and her gardener produced a variety of flowers through cross-breeding. In 1812, they introduced pansies to the horticultural world and the rest is history. Pansies became one of the most beloved and common garden flowers. 

All the flashy viola hybrids today originated from this little wild European pansy called "Heartsease," known for its cardiac and other medicinal uses. They say a fairy lives in every pansy flower.

What's not to like about something so delicate that can grow through cracks in the sidewalk?

A nice day coming up in Seattle, sunny and getting close to 60. Then rain and chilly temperatures again tomorrow with (good heavens) still more snow in the mountains. Snoqualmie Pass had one of the highest snow levels ever, with 114 inches on the ground.  

When spring is in full bloom, it's hard to believe this scene is only about 50 miles away.

A pleasant holiday

 

It was cool and cloudy yesterday, but mostly dry. We enjoyed having my brother Dave over for lunch, as we gently crawl out of our social isolation cocoon. 

John helped make the scalloped potatoes. Perfectly even slices, of course.

Roasted asparagus with a feta and mint vinaigrette...

And the ham was delicious. My pie baking skills are uneven, but this was one of the better ones.

The real highlight was some pleasant family conversation around the table for the first time since Christmas 2019. Is that possible? In some strange way, now it feels like an entire year never happened. 

Today is National Dandelion Day. I've always thought it a pity that Dandelions are one of the most disliked weeds. And if you look closely at it, it really is a beautiful flower. The first dandelion salad was a big deal on the farm, after a winter of eating canned, dried and frozen food. 

It's rich in vitamins, too, and animals know that. I loved watching my horse hoover up dandelion flowers as fast as she could. 

In other news I finally saw a brown bunny in the yard, just in time for Easter. They were everywhere last summer and simply disappeared over the winter. Where?  A rabbit mystery. Welcome back, there's plenty to eat here.