Open air uke

 

The Senior Center was closed for the holiday yesterday, so someone had the great idea for The Ukes to meet up in the gazebo at the South Seattle Community College Arboretum. 

The regular weekly Monday session has been sparsely attended anyway.  Most people (myself included) are uncomfortable with indoor, unmasked singing, especially during this current Covid surge. Yes, anyone can and probably will "get it" at some point, but why tempt fate to that extent?

Anyway, despite the chilly afternoon (fingerless gloves and lap blankets) we eight old friends had a wonderful time. Some of my favorite people where there. The big old group is gone, but you can't keep ukulele players down forever. 

Hopefully it morphs  into something new. Ukulele is, above all, a social instrument, bringing together people of all ages and ability. Plinking away in your lonely room just isn't the same.

Because of the weather, the Arboretum was mostly deserted, so the robins were the audience and chirped along loudly. Who knows if they were being appreciative, or just annoyed at the weird noises? Which pretty much sums up public ukulele performances!

 :-)

Where am I?

 

A tale of two windows. Is that the river I hear outside, or rain? 

It's rain. May was the wettest month in Seattle since Harry Truman was president. That's right, the rainiest in 75 years.

The first morning I'm home (either one) I always wake up not sure where I am. Both houses have almost identical comfortable beds, soft pillows and down comforters. Still needed here in Seattle, where the furnace keeps running this morning.

The holiday weekend was pretty much a wash-out. My ukulele group is meeting up outside in a park this afternoon. Cloudy with a high of 59. Jacket and a lap blanket in order, but at least it won't be raining. Probably. Planning to make steaks on the grill for dinner, hope springs eternal. It sure doesn't feel like the official start of summer.

I keep saying this, but have never seen such rampant, healthy growth in the garden and so many flower buds, especially the roses. All we need is a touch of that incredibly strong June sun, hiding somewhere above the clouds. 

It has been a terrible week in America. The mind can't comprehend such evil. So many of the same words spoken again, and still nothing changes.

River rules

 Today...

 Yesterday...

We have a front row seat on the Methow River and as I'm sure you've guessed, it's the main attraction. I never tire of it. The level changes daily, sometimes hourly on our little beach. 

It's mesmerizing to sit and watch, but pretty soon you're not getting anything done. A house is still a house, with all the chores and responsibilities that go with, but somehow it's easier here with a view. In Seattle, housework just feels like work.

It can turn into an obsession and like anything else, there's an app for that. The flow is precisely measured by the USGS and reported real time on sites like SNOFLO. This morning we are 28% below average.

There's a tree in the middle of that picture we call our "beaver tree." They almost chewed through it years ago but for some reason gave up. Anyway, when the river reaches high runoff stage, as it probably will in June, the bottom of the beaver tree is submerged and those sandy areas covered in water. This is a few long strides from the house. I would describe living next to a major mountain river as thrilling along with a certain wariness and respect.

The wildlife viewing has been interesting, many deer of course, a shy turkey ran by. When they're in flocks in the summer you practically have to shoo them away. A baby otter peeked up at me from my favorite chair. There are several Merganser families around. The clustered family groups zip by like little rafts in the swift current. She calls to gather her ducklings and off they go.

Well, off I go tomorrow as well. I hear tell it's raining in Seattle this weekend.

 

On the town

 

John and his brother admiring a metal sculpture on the Twisp Works Campus, by artist Bernard Hosey. He was a local treasure who sadly died in 2012, leaving behind some of the most amazing large scale sculptures you'll see anywhere in the world.

We took Dan and Rebecca on the Valley tour yesterday including a drive to Winthrop to see the western-themed town, lunch at Cinnamon Twisp and a tour of downtown, then a stop at the studios and galleries at Twisp Works. Also a walk through the native plant garden at the Methow Interpretive Center. 

And still time for Rebecca and I to sit on the deck and watch the birds, in particular the Cliff Swallows just arrived from South America, perfect timing for the first flying insects hatching along the river. Dan treated the family to an excellent dinner at the La Fonda Lopez in Twisp. 

The three of them are driving back to Seattle today so Dan and Rebecca can continue their trip. I'll clean up the house and head back to the big city on Saturday morning.

Merganser family

 

The river is running high, but still hasn't reached peak spring run-off stage. Fingers crossed all that extra snow in the mountains doesn't decide to melt at once. Everyone on our street keeps a respectful eye on the river, especially this time of year. So far so good, it's been a chilly and slow spring. By this time last year, it was already hot and dry.

What a wonderful sight yesterday. A family of Mergansers swimming up the river in front of the house. I counted 13 ducklings, a smart one catching a ride on the mom's back. The others literally had to run across the surface of the river to keep up with her in the swift current. Such strength and determination in those tiny balls of fluff.

John's brother Dan and sister-in-law Rebecca are visiting for two nights and we're having a pleasant time catching up. Had a big family dinner here at the house last night, and will do some sightseeing today.

The fungus hunters

 

We drove up to a burn zone yesterday afternoon to search for Morels. This particular area (just one of many) covers thousands of acres along the Chewuch River, close to the town of Winthrop. 

The scope of the destruction last summer was pretty amazing to see up close, and how nature is already renewing itself in small ways. But it was eerily quiet, with no birds or visible animals.

The Morel fungus "fruits" for short period in the spring, depending on the weather, and they especially like fresh burn areas. Because they only grow in the wild, they're a hot commodity with chefs and mushroom enthusiasts. 

Even for novice mushroom hunters, they are fairly easy to identify, with a honeycomb exterior and white, hollow interior. They often poke out of pine needle beds at the base of trees.

 As with all wild mushrooms, care needs to be taken, in particular avoiding the "false Morel" which has a solid interior and nasty consequences.

Morels are somewhat tricky. In particular, they must be cooked before you eat them. They say to avoid eating them when consuming alcohol, as morels contain small amounts of hydrazine toxins. 

These toxins aren't deadly, but cause stomach cramps, etc. They are mostly destroyed when cooked, but can still cause issues in people with a sensitivity to mushrooms. In other words, eat your first morel with caution.

None of this sounds very appetizing, but they are considered a gourmet delicacy. Unlike regular slimy mushrooms, the Morel texture is meaty and they apparently taste earthy.

Amanda, Tom and Maya with her sharp young eyes soon filled a bag. If I had to survive on Morels in the wild (thankfully not) I would starve. I didn't find a single one, but mostly because I was busy gawking around at the strange features of the burn zone.

The landscape is dotted with crater-like holes, many several feet deep. Watch your step. These are spots where the fire burned out entire stumps and the below ground root systems.

Tree trunks transformed into crumbling black carbon.  Just waiting to topple over.

 

We had nice rain in Twisp over the weekend, always welcome here. Not welcome are all the weeds coming up in our gravel driveway. I don't remember that last year? This summer is starting out wetter and cooler and everyone has fingers crossed because fire season is right around the corner. And there will be fires, that is a given. 

But for now at least, the air is fresh and clean and the world looks wonderfully green and new. I'm having two new neighbors over this afternoon for drinks on the deck. I love this causal small town friendliness. And tomorrow, John arrives with special company visiting from Ohio. More on that later.

Green as a garden

 

The valley is wonderfully green. It looks like the Garden of Eden (with weeds.) You'll never hear anyone complain about too much rain in arid eastern Washington. 

We had a big thunderstorm and downpour yesterday evening, and the light was just spectacular. I sat in the living room thinking about when we first saw the house for sale, exactly a year ago. The location was magical and as they say, fools rush in. In a few head-spinning weeks, it was ours. 

I'm not saying there weren't some "what have I done?" moments this first year, especially when the wildfires shut down the valley last summer. As we were moving in, everyone who could leave did, to escape the smoke. Owning a second house is steep learning curve, but here we are, with winter behind us and everything fine. Fingers crossed for the summer.

 

It's a wonderful feeling to open the door and find everything as you left it. And for me at least, it's been a fun project turning this little house into a comfortable home away from home. I can't think of another thing we need, but I probably will. How did all this stuff get here? Well, just ask John he's been a good sport through the whole adventure. No one can predict the future, but whatever happens, I'm thankful for this experience. Old Man River will likely take it away someday, but hopefully I won't be around to see that. 

Summer tourism is ramping up and the highways are already filled with massive RV's and people in a frantic hurry to get somewhere. I already miss shoulder season. I stick to the right lane on the freeway and keep my speed a few miles above the limit, not to be an irritating old lady driver and heaven forbid, hold someone up for a few seconds. But I was constantly tailgated on treacherous 2-lane Blewett Pass. And it wasn't just me, no one could go fast enough for some people.

Anyway, all is peace and quiet this morning, just watching the young deer play in the yard. I saw a beautiful male Western Tanager yesterday by the river. A busy day coming up, the Saturday Market this morning and Nova has a dance performance in Omak this afternoon.

Parsley, sage, etc.

 

It's nice to go outside and snip my fresh herbs for cooking. I just have to remember, and not reach for the dried oregano out of habit. Some are in pots, some in the ground and some survivors from last year, like mint. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, also chives, dill, basil and a curry plant. I was duped on the curry plant because it was in with the herbs at the nursery.

Helichrysum italicum smells just like fresh curry powder but the leaves are inedible.  It's actually a weed that grows in dry rocky areas of the Mediterranean. The yellow flowers are good for dried flower arrangements, but that's about it.

A fresh and beautiful world after the storm blew through yesterday morning. Why complain when we're so lucky, living in the only corner of the West with abundant moisture (at least at the moment.) 

Everything is as green as Ireland; the flowers just waiting to burst into bloom. With all the rain, I think we'll have incredible roses this June. All is good. 

 

Look at Snoqualmie Pass this morning! That much snow this late in the season is pretty unusual. But sunshine for tomorrow when I drive to Twisp. The sun, when it does appear, is incredibly strong as we approach the Solstice.

Depressing

 

Suddenly, everyone in western Washington has friends and acquaintances who are testing positive for the virus. This is new for us. From the beginning of the pandemic, our state had some of the strictest restrictions in the country. Now they're gone, so I guess the rising case numbers are to be expected.

I find it depressing that after all the closures, social isolation and masking, everything we gave up for 2 long years, we've arrived at this point. John does point out all the lives that were probably saved. Now people have stopped worrying about it (some never worried in the first place) and gone on with their lives.

Through a combination of caution and blind luck, we've avoided it so far, but it feels like just a matter of time. Vaccinated and boosted, the odds are great we would be fine, but it's worrisome for older people and can be debilitating until you finally shake it off.  At least that's what I've heard from friends.

Enough of that. What else is new? How about a day of depressing May weather? Another storm coming down from the Gulf of Alaska, this one bringing strong winds across Puget Sound. But on Saturday, be still my heart, the warmest day in Seattle this year-- a scorching 70 degrees.

Relics

 

In this sad and violent country, parents even have to worry about finding baby formula. Homemade is a big no-no, but it wasn't in the 1950's when I was born. Commercial formula existed but was too expensive for most people and breast feeding really discouraged.

This is the recipe they gave my mom for homemade infant formula:

3 tablespoons Karo syrup
13 oz. water
15 oz. evaporated milk
Additional Foods: orange juice

Bottle feed baby on a strict 4 hour schedule.

It was commonplace to give meat, cereal and salty condensed soup to infants only a month old. Somehow we survived, in fact I have a cast iron stomach to this day.

Another relic-- the bill I racked up after TWO DAYS at the hospital just to have a small foot cyst removed. Goodness, now they send people home right after major surgery.

So "board and nursing" at the Quakertown Hospital came to $50. General anesthesia (I'll never forget the nauseating smell-taste of ether) was a pricey $22.50. Lab fee, $10. Surgical supplies (a full plaster cast!) $1.20.  And twenty cents billed for "drugs." Mind you, $83.90 was a big bill for our parents. 

These are from my childhood scrapbook. Most girls and many women once kept scrapbooks. My mother helped us start ours with with the letters, cards, photographs, programs, school records etc. she carefully saved. She loved family history, and thought it was important to preserve a record of who were were. Especially, where we came from. I'm sure my sister and I get our archival tendencies from her.

BTW, scrapbooks are wonderful, but a paper conservator's worst nightmare. The archive at the Museum of History and Industry had hundreds. The acidic, brittle paper, crumbling clippings, glued on photographs, pressed plants and random mementos of all sorts of materials. 

The fussy professional method would be to scan each page to preserve the content, then throw the whole mess in the trash. Acidic paper, mold and dust can actually harm other things stored in the archive. But I like this one the way it is, just handle with care. 

Color on grey

 

Wave after wave of drenching rain blew through on Sunday. We drove over to Capitol Hill in the afternoon, quite a trek these days, and went to the Asian Art Museum with a stop at the Volunteer Park Conservatory. 

 

The Asian Art Museum was closed for several years, first for a $56 million dollar renovation and then for the pandemic.

The Conservatory is fun on a bad weather day, the colors especially vibrant under the grey Seattle sky.

 

And it was nice seeing familiar iconic works on display again at the Asian Art Museum.

The 17th century "Crows" screen.  

And the amazing kimono made entirely of dog tags titled "Some/One. 

Just a little aside. As part of the beautiful museum renovation, they installed a large non-gender restroom in the basement. Hey, it's Seattle. A good thing really, it was all fine, it was great, the stalls were perfectly private. 

Although I told John it felt odd standing at the sink next to a man, both of us washing our hands in front of the same mirror. He said who am I to make assumptions about that person's gender identity? Well, he's right-- but it felt rather intimate for some silly reason. We avoided looking at each other and left as quickly as possible. I skipped the lipstick. Learning a new etiquette here.
 

Another chilly one

 

The furnace cranked up again this morning. We broke a record yesterday for the coldest, wettest May 12th. A rare day when I didn't leave the house.

But the sun is coming up golden this morning. The birds are chirping and it will be beautiful after all that rain. The weather people are teasing us with a possible warm-up in the northwest by Memorial Day, but no one believes it yet. These winter-like storms keep cranking down from the Gulf of Alaska.

My sister sent a picture of their Yellow Bell shrub on her Las Vegas patio. What they wouldn't give for a some of this moisture in the desert southwest. The entire west is parched. They say it would take 17 years of above-normal rainfall and snow pack to refill Lake Mead. More unpleasant things are likely to be revealed on the lake bed.  

But here, the fragrance of wet lilacs outside the front door. A blessing and a reminder to enjoy each precious day, rain or shine.

After a Month of Rain
by Linda Pastan

Everything I thought I wanted 
is right here, 
particularly when the sun 
is making such a comeback,

and the lilac engorged 
with purple has recovered 
from its severe pruning, 
and you will be back soon

to dispel whatever it is 
that overtakes me like leaf blight, 
even on a day like this. I can still 
hear remnants of the rain

in the swollen stream 
behind the house, in the faint 
dripping under the eaves, 
persistent as memory.

And all the things I didn’t think 
I wanted, cut like the lilac back 
to the root, push up again 
from underground.

Wednesday

 

 

Woman Before the Rising Sun
Casper David Friedrich

A rare golden sunrise in Seattle this morning.

Eat What You Want Day

 

"My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four, unless there are three other people. "
Oscar Wilde

May 10th is "Eat What You Want Day." Which doesn't mean eat as much as you want day. Steak is a big treat in this house. We're pretty good (most of the time) with portion control. These little sirloins made a nice dinner and then big steak salad the next day. I know how to stretch the meat budget. It's good to finally use the grill again, that is, when it's not raining.

Back in the jungle

I worked outside yesterday trying to restore some order to these overgrown flower beds. That compost last fall sure did the job. Which is a good thing, but it looks pretty rank now from almost daily rain. We've already exceeded our average rainfall for the month.

The spring bulbs are finished and technically you should let the leaves die back naturally. Not my favorite transition time in the garden as the lilies, perennials and weeds all try to elbow their way through the mess. I can't tell you how many innocent heads I've accidentally lopped off weeding.

The roses are late, but these bluebells are cheerful. They've spread everywhere, and I don't remember planting a single one. A garden mystery. The good thing is once they finish blooming you can forget about them for another year.

How about a happy picture to start the week?  That's is Nova (left) and friends at a track meet. A beautiful natural athlete, just like her mom.