29 years

 

“Although we try to control it in a million different ways, 

the only things you can ever really 

do to time are enjoy it, or waste it. 

That’s it.” 

– A.J. Compton

Our anniversary was on Sunday. In some ways, 29 years seems like yesterday, but so much has changed since then. Including us. We miss those dear faces, no longer with us.

The symbol is "furniture" for this odd ball anniversary. Ho hum. But if you can make it to 30, "pearl" sounds much better. Late February (a dreary, indoor month) seems like a odd time to get married. I can't remember the reason, we were probably just in a hurry.

We didn't go anywhere this weekend, but I made a coconut cake and a terrific French onion soup.

The soup base starts with a giant (and I mean giant) pot of sliced onions. The caramelizing process takes about an hour of careful tending.

Finally, you add red wine to de-glaze the pot. I doubled the amount, which never hurts. Then beef broth and seasoning, then simmer another hour until the flavors come together. Like I say, it takes all afternoon, but eventually the onions become nothing like onions--all melty and sweet. 

Finally, topped with homemade croutons and expensive grated Gruyere cheese finished under the broiler.  John, the onion soup connoisseur, said it rivaled anything he's ever had in a French cafe and requested it once a week. Now that's wishful thinking.

Well, we've gone from sub-freezing temperatures to warmish drenching rain. Heavy snow in the mountains, river flooding on the western side of the Cascades before things settle down later this week.

Frost face

One more night of sub-freezing temperatures to endure before the rain returns tomorrow. Next week looks warmer and soggy.

This poor daffodil decided to bloom too early and collapsed in a heap. Fortunately, most bulbs are not that far along yet and can shrug off the cold snap. 

What a week it's been. So much bad news to process, and nothing we can do about any of it.   

Here's a few happy Friday pictures:

Yes, that's Nova (left) in rehearsal for the upcoming community theater production of "The Fantastic Mr. Fox." Can't wait.

 

Our amazing dad, out for a first spring walk in short sleeves. Almost time to break out the summer clothes in Las Vegas.

 Hope for the future-- the youthful road ahead in strong February sun...

Speaking of salty snacks

 

February 24th is National Tortilla Chip Day. Rebecca Webb Carranza invented packaged tortilla chips in the 1950s. 

She and her husband owned the El Zarape Tortilla Factory in Los Angeles, among the first to automate tortilla production. The machine often produced misshapen tortillas, and thrifty Carranza cut the rejected tortillas into triangles, fried them, and sold them for a dime a bag.

The packaged Frito was invented earlier by Charles Doolin. During the Depression, he owned a candy store in San Antonio, and wanted offer his customers some kind of salty corn snack. 

At a gas station, Doolin found a Mexican man making an extruded chip out of masa, frying it and selling little bags of corn chips. They were fritos, "little fried things" — the beach food of Mexico. Doolin bought the patent from the man and the rest is history.

Some of us remember the now politically incorrect Frito Bandito, voiced by Mel Blanc.

 An authentic Frito Pie, served in the package.

Record cold

 

Record cold temperature in Seattle this morning, and we might get another dusting of snow before this late snap is over. That was optimistic, putting out those patio chairs in the false Spring. The tulips probably wish they hadn't stuck their heads out of the ground.

It's hard keeping busy these long, cold days when I'd much rather be outside. Also a challenge keeping my hand out of that bag of Dot's Pretzels. 

They shamelessly advertise them as "the snack you didn't know you needed." Until you're hooked, that is.

 

What's in that seasoning that makes a plain pretzel so addictive? Just add boredom. The only solution is not buying them in the first place.

This book is old stuff, published way back in 1995, but for some reason I just discovered it. Probably because I seldom read fantasy, but the writing is delightful. Best of all, there's 3 more books in the series to look forward to.

80 days

 

We just finished streaming the new PBS Masterpiece Theater series "Around the World in 80 Days,” described as a re-imagined story modern audiences could better relate to. Yes, it was fun to watch and well-acted, but the characters and situations were pretty preposterous-- for the 19th century.

Preposterous in another way, we followed that with the 1956 movie classic on DVD, starring David Niven. Shirley McLaine played the Indian princess rescued from a forced suttee. She was only 20 in her first big role. 

Very entertaining, if you can keep it in context of the 1950's. As they circle the world, the movie becomes a showcase of all the typical cultural and racial stereotypes. In fairness, no country is spared, with the wild west and Native Americans (as usual) being the silliest. For better or worse, this is the world view we grew up on.

Anyway, guess what?  Snow this morning and below freezing temperatures for the rest of the week. Good TV weather.

Dry Falls

 

Amanda sent some pictures taken yesterday on their outing to Dry Falls and Steamboat Rock in central Washington. The Methow Valley is in the full grip of winter, but down in the Columbia Basin there's already a feel of spring in the air.

Dry Falls, near Coulee Dam, is truly off the beaten track, about 200 miles from Seattle and 100 miles from Twisp. It was once the largest waterfall known to have existed on earth, created during the collapse of an ice dam holding back "Glacier Lake Missoula." 

The lake had about the same volume of water as Lake Ontario. The massive Missoula Flood ripped through the Idaho panhandle, eastern Washington and into Oregon, putting the area of Portland under 400 feet of water.

This area of the state is geologist heaven on earth. We haven't been to Dry Falls State Park, but years ago spent the night in Coulee City, where we watched the nightly laser show projected on the face of Coulee Dam. 

It was stuff right out of the 1930’s Bureau of Land Reclamation handbook, all about taming the mighty, destructive Columbia River and putting it to civilized purposes like farming and electric power. Once considered wonders of the world, ecology has changed attitudes about those massive dam projects.

Just another quiet weekend at home in Seattle for us. Chains required on Snoqualmie Pass this morning, and it's down to zero in Twisp this week-- not great weather for unloading a car, plus Amanda and Tom are away on Friday and Saturday.

How about this beauty? John bought the bulb at Home Depot after Christmas, and it liked the kitchen greenhouse window. Hard to imagine a more spectacular winter blooming flower than amaryllis.

Friday

 

February 18th is "National Drink Wine Day." Already over the hump in February. We should never wish the days of our lives away, but everyone is yearning for spring and some semblance normal life. In the meantime, wine helps.

Winter isn't quite done with us in the Northwest. They're saying a foot of snow in the Cascade mountains this weekend, then it gets very cold in the lowlands for a few days next week (you know what that means, hauling plants back inside.) 

Over in the Methow Valley, down to zero degrees. When the roads are clear and it warms up a bit, I plan to make a solo trip over in the Honda with yet another load of "stuff" I've collected. We should be truly set up for spring and summer, although the hauling things back and forth of things never seems to end.  

Have a good weekend. See you Monday.

Hello neighbor

The upstairs window of the "backyard cottage" shines right into our kitchen at night. The house also blocks early morning sun and moon rise from the deck. So it goes. With the new school addition across the street, we are well and truly hemmed in. You knew this was going to happen eventually, as the neighborhood density increases with no end in sight.

On the bright side, when I'm on ground level in the yard I don't really notice either. Maybe the Leyland Cypress wasn't such a bad idea after all. And three cheers for the old Laurel hedge.

Speaking of Leyland Cypress, check out the King of Hedges, at least thirty feet tall. This house is on two lots, and the hedge gives them a huge, real estate extravagant private space. I walk by all the time and wonder who are these lucky people? Well, not lucky when they get the bill for trimming. Or the property tax bill. 

I'm sitting next to my new Honeywell air purifier and breathing is very pleasant. I think clean air helps my brain write. Ha! I was a skeptic at first, these things are expensive, but the house is noticeably fresher. Hopefully it improves the dust situation. We have three now-- two in Seattle and one in Twisp. I'm afraid the smokey summers are the new fact of life.
 

Wordless Wednesday

 

 

Charlie's Angels, 1976

Bean soup and roses

 

Hope you had a nice Valentine's Day. I scored chocolate and red roses and you can't beat the classics. 

We were looking forward to Thai take-out from the neighborhood restaurant, but they were too busy to even pick up the phone. After multiple tries I gave up. Thank you, freezer, ham and bean soup to the rescue.

I went to the Monday Ukes practice yesterday. There were only 8 people there and the same ones not wearing masks, openly defying Senior Center policy. Sigh. The group really is a sad shadow of its former self, and frankly, we sound pretty bad without the handful of strong players. 

I wonder if the group can ever be revived in this new reality. On top of the endless virus, it's hard for people to get over to West Seattle and park once they're finally through the detour. All of this is no excuse for not practicing solo, but the fun has gone out of it for now.

That's about it in the way of Tuesday news. We're back to typical, boring February weather.

Aftermath

 

What a lovely weekend, weather wise, it felt like early spring in Seattle. We're back to the 40's and rain, but it was nice while it lasted. I've walked past this marvelous camellia for years. Someone planted it along the sidewalk, probably 100 years ago. Neighborhood treasures...

My new birdbath came in the mail. It's light as a feather, but the base has a clever design so you can weight it down with rocks. The raccoons kept knocking the top off the concrete one and I got tired of putting it back. We'll see what they do with this one.

Speaking of funny animals, my favorite Superbowl commercial. 

 

Today is called "Super Sick Monday" because over 17 million workers ring up the boss saying they can't make it to work.

Superbowl

 

Almost half through February already? The month is flying by compared to that endless January. 

I overdid the screen time yesterday (put the dang thing DOWN now and then) so short and sweet this morning.  Go Bengals! Slow roasted pork on the menu here.

I leave you with glowing picture of Nova on a bluebird day, on a 3-mile hike with her mom yesterday.

 

Still broken

 

 

The West Seattle Bridge shut down in March 2020, so we're coming up on two long years without a direct route off the Peninsula. Being Seattle, the problem was talked to death (we like consensus here) until the decision finally made to repair rather than replace. In the last few months, you could finally see some action up there, a good sign, and the reopening estimate was set for mid-year. Hooray.

Not so fast. Dozens of local construction projects are stalled due to a months long concrete strike, and unless it gets resolved soon, it will likely affect the timeline for the bridge repair. In the construction biz, concrete makes the world go round. 

I'm always astonished in Las Vegas, seeing how quickly freeways and huge overpasses are constructed. Have you heard of the Concrete Club? One of the 10 businesses supposedly controlled by the Mafia, but you didn't hear it from me :-)

A "false" Spring

 

Oh false Spring, deceive, lie, cheat-- we still love you! 

What a nice stretch of weather. You can feel your shoulders starting to un-hunch. Yes, we'll have more cold rain in March, but the (relative) warmth this week is wonderful. I've been outside as much as possible getting an early start, pruning and cleaning the beds, transplanting the winners and pulling out loser plants. 

We have to pick our garden battles now, because Seattle summers are becoming hot and dry. The lush, 6-foot lily days are gone and the garden is slowly transitioning into something different, still beautiful but more practical. Besides, I want to spend time in Twisp this summer-- a person can only do so much.

Spring weather also means lighter food. Yea. I've been ordering this winter from Costco online. It's a royal pain getting to the warehouse with our bridge still out of commission.  The short drive turned into 45 minutes of stop and go traffic. And the virus...

Anyway, I ordered frozen food for the first time last week. Costco shrimp and fish are good, and I threw in a bag of frozen won tons to meet the minimum for free delivery.  It all arrived on the porch just fine, but with an astonishing, embarrassing amount of packaging. Never again.

Anyway, we'll be working through the gigantic bag of won tons for a while. You can fry them, or make a easy light soup, cobbled together with vegetables, Asian condiments, canned broth and noodles.  No recipe required.

Welcome

It's a common practice in England to name your cottage or house. The custom began with the gentry naming their manors, halls, and castles, which gradually spread to everyday folk naming their homes. This started before the days of street numbers and rural addresses. It's only considered pretentious if you name your little bungalow something like "Oak Manor" or "Stag Lodge."

Beach houses and cabins have names in the United States, too. Owners will sometimes "brand" their vacation rentals with a cute name, to make it more appealing on Airbnb. Which sounds very American and practical.  

Well, we have no plans to ever rent our house, but I still wanted a nice sign at the front door. No offense to the family surname, but Welcome to "you-know-what" House doesn't have the right ring.

Most cabin welcome signs feature bears or deer. I took a chance and ordered this metal one, and I think the deer are perfect since they practically own the place. Won't John be excited— one more thing to hang up on a wall in Twisp.

Weekend at home

 

After February, the chance for lowland snow in western Washington drops to about zero. But the weather is so wonky these days, who knows?  All I can say is, we're having a spring-teasing stretch now, with no rain this week and high temperatures reaching the 50's.  

I kicked the jade plants outside, and the house suddenly felt bigger. This is very early and I might have to bring them in again. On the other hand, it wouldn't break my heart if they froze. As you get older, it seems the key to happiness is not what you're able to acquire, but what you can let go. 

Speaking of wonky, I finished the little brick path detour. It fits right in with the other brick mess, enough said about that. Maybe someday we'll have everything ripped out and build a real patio.

Or maybe not. The city is closing in from both sides, taking the appeal out of the deck and backyard, which once felt entirely private. We have a new house across the alley looming down and the school addition going up in front of us. I just keep my nose to the grindstone and ignore it. This is my favorite time of year to work outside. So peaceful, just me and the birds.

Remember the classic story called "The Little House" by Virginia Lee Burton? It sounds like West Seattle. Our house was built in about 1910, when there was hardly anything out here on the peninsula.  

The story centers on a house built at the top of a small hill, far out in the country in 1900 America. Her builder decrees that she "may never be sold for gold or silver" but is built sturdy enough to one day see his great-great-grandchildren's great-great-grandchildren living in her. The house watches the seasons pass, and wonders about the lights of the city, which grow ever closer in the year 1915. 

 Eventually a road is built in front of the house. This is followed by roadside stands, gas stations and more little houses. Next, the small houses are replaced by apartments in the year 1925. Streetcars, an elevated railroad and a subway surround the house in the year 1930. Finally, two gigantic skyscrapers are built—one on each side; now living in the city in the year 1940, the house is sad because she misses being on the small hill in the countryside and that her exterior looks shabby due to no one living in her and the city's environment thanks to urban sprawl and poor planning.

(From Wiki)

Friday

 

 

A cheerful sight on a dark, early spring morning. Two bunches of cut daffodils from Trader Joe's pack quite a floral punch for $4. 

It's Friday already. Maybe time is speeding up after the doldrums of January. This is the first no football weekend in six? months what will we do with ourselves on Sunday afternoon. 

I'm in the middle of a messy outdoor project to redirect a brick path out to the garage aka shed. There have been complaints from the person I live with that the existing path is now "too close" to a tree I never expected would grow so big so fast. Story of my life. 

Anyway, it's a dirty, unrewarding job digging up sod, prying out bricks and relaying them, more or less level. Of course they won't be perfectly level since I've lost whatever patience I once had for perfection in this old wabi-sabi yard. 

The backyard needs a major renovation-- new deck, paving, fencing and most of all, something to replace the gently collapsing garage aka shed. When it falls down in the alley I suppose we'll be in trouble with the great City of Seattle. I don't want to think about it now.

Anyway, look at these lovely eggs laid by the Twisp hens, while the Methow Valley is still in the full grip of winter. The girls feed them delicious and nutritious grub treats, maybe that's the secret.

I hope you have some good grub this weekend. See you Monday.

Where was I?

 

Oh, yes. February 3rd is "Feed the Birds Day." What pleasure backyard feeders have brought during the pandemic home isolation.  Our birds (mostly chickadees, sparrows, juncos and now pigeons) hoovered through almost a garbage can of food since November. I'll keep it up a little longer, but they are on their own when nesting season starts.

Once birds are attracted to your feeder, you have effectively adopted them and they become dependent upon the seeds. For this reason, I don't put out a feeder while I'm in Twisp, even though it would be fun to attract the many different varieties over there.

And the other reason is, it would soon look like this.

Our weather is trending slightly warmer, with highs getting close to 50 by next week. January was an isolating month, between the weather and Omicron surge. I go slightly nuts, just stuck inside the house. All the birds in the world are not enough to amuse me anymore. So this afternoon I'm going to the arts and crafts session at the senior center again. It's relaxing to sit there doodling and listen to other people chatter. 

Have you been able to find your free masks?  Seattle is a big mask wearing city, so I suspect they will be snatched up immediately. We didn't get our test kits in the mail yet, either. 

Like my sister says, the crisis will be over about the time they arrive. That's OK. Although I'm hoping to get back to the weekly Ukes practice this month, and a good mask would be nice. I refuse to be gouged by Amazon more than I already have.

Not my day

I just wrote a long post then accidentally deleted it. I'll see if I can pull it from the ash heap of my brain later.

Candles and groundhogs

 

When the Germans arrived in America in the 1700's, they brought along the traditions of Candlemas Day. February 2 falls at the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. If the weather was fair, it was believed the second half of the winter would be stormy and cold.

Candlemas Day marks an early episode in the life of Jesus: The Presentation at the Temple.  On Candlemas day, the clergy would bless candles and distribute them in the dark of winter.  People put lighted candles in their windows to mark the return of warmth and light.

If Candlemas be fair and bright,
Come, winter, have another flight,
If Candlemas brings clouds and rain,
Go winter, and come not again.

Old English song 

The famous marmot Punxsutawney Phil just predicted six more weeks of winter. No surprise to those of you in the midwest this morning.

Year of the Tiger

 

Today is Chinese New Year. People born in the Year of the Tiger are brave, competitive and confident. On the other hand, they can sometimes be unpredictable, irritable, and overindulgent. 

I was born in a "Metal Tiger" year, considered one of the most unlucky years of the Chinese zodiac. So I'm living proof this is total nonsense. It's ridiculous to label children at birth like that. (Maybe that's the"irritable" coming out.)

Anyway, speaking of superstition, tomorrow we see what the ground hog has to say. Welcome, February, the last month of meteorological winter. It's cold in Seattle, and we may not be done with lowland snow yet. In February 2019, we had a freakish 20 inches. In my opinion, the only decent month for snow in Seattle is December, preferably Christmas. (Irritable, again).

A bit of good news yesterday. The neighbor who plows our driveway in Twisp finally got his truck repaired (new transmission) and he's back in business. I'm grateful the property management company kept it open with a snow blower, but obviously that's not ideal. Old Chuck has lived in Twisp his entire life, and knows a thing or two about snow-plowing. And he's very familiar with our property, having plowed for the previous owner.