Happy day

 

Some lavish fish tacos last night at Seattle Fish Company, a seafood market nearby at the West Seattle Junction. Along with the fresh seafood counter, they run a casual grill restaurant with friendly service. John really liked the clam chowder and we shared a bowl of steamed mussels and clams. 

A nice feast topped off with an Opera Cake from the Metropolitan Market. I don't have a sweet tooth, but that combination of almond and chocolate ganache is luscious. 

We finished the day with the old Elvis movie "Viva Las Vegas" which John found on blu-ray. The best part of the movie (other than Ann Margaret dancing all over town in her underwear) are the scenes of the old Las Vegas strip and casinos.

And thanks everyone for your kind calls and messages. And I loved hearing the twin's sweet little voices. 

It wasn't exactly warm, but not as cold as usual at the coffee house ukulele jam. Everyone had a good time as spring oh-so-slowly arrives and we look forward to the months of playing outdoors without many layers of clothing.

Instead of the standard "Happy Birthday to You" they played the old Beatles Birthday Song. Can you imagine that crazy thing transcribed for the ukulele? Hopefully John Lennon is smiling down from somewhere, because we sure love to butcher his songs!

So pretty

 

Nova crocheted these coasters for my birthday. Making rounds is tricky because you have to increase stitches, and she does everything without a pattern. Maybe the secret is, no one ever told her crocheting is hard. She loves arts and crafts and has a natural talent-- you should see her drawings. 

Anyway, after a 8+ hour flight, they landed safely in French Polynesia last night. After resting up at a hotel, the plan is to pick up the rental cars and then take the ferry to Moorea. I'll share any pictures that come in from Paradise. 

That's Maya and family friend admiring the pretty Dreamliner at SeaTac yesterday.

Bon Voyage

 

They're off to Tahiti this morning. I'm off to work at the Cafe. Just saying.

Weeds

 

March 28 is Weed Appreciation Day. Every gardener has their least favorite and mine is called "Common Cat's Ear." It looks something like a dandelion, but dandelions are sweet little things in comparison. 

I walk by houses where they've taken over entire yards and parking strips. The mature ones have a deep tap root and the seeds spread everywhere, so you're never done with this guy.

They also stay annoyingly green when the rest of the lawn turns brown in the summer. Well, what is a weed, anyway? Just a persistent plant growing in the wrong place.

"The garden world even today organizes itself into one great hierarchy. At the top stand the hypercivilized hybrids - the rose, ''queen of the garden'' - and at the bottom skulk the weeds, the plant world's proletariat, furiously reproducing and threatening to usurp the position of their more refined horticultural betters." From the NYT.

We don't have house guests often in John's basement domain, but today we need to get things ready for Amanda, Tom and the girls to sleep over. They're coming late tonight then leaving in the morning for their flight to Tahiti. They're spending two weeks in that South Pacific paradise with another Methow Valley family. Good for them. I’d call that a pretty good spring break!

Last one out

 

The "Elk Horn" or "Stag Horn" fern has hogged this corner of the office since October.  Somewhat finicky to grow as house plants, they can get enormous outdoors under the right conditions. 

You often see them in California botanical gardens. Mine might double in size over the summer, making it too big to winter inside again. Oh, well, fun while it lasted. It's one of those unusual plants-- ugly or beautiful is in the eye of the beholder.

I also kicked the Jade plants outside this week, a little early because it's only 33 degrees this morning. They are not happy campers but will survive.

The house feels roomy when all this plant material suddenly goes away. The Jades love the front porch and grow like crazy all summer. Jades are very heavy plants, especially in these big clay pots. What was I thinking? When they get that big, they're impossible to transplant so sometimes I just prune the tops off.

Nothing interesting happened this weekend. It's still too cold for gardening, other than clean-up chores. The big excitement was washing the outside windows on Sunday afternoon, all covered with a winter's worth of grime. It instantly made the house lighter in the strong afternoon sun. It also nicely highlighted the indoor dust. 

We're looking forward to some sunny days this week, with temperatures close to 60. Yea!

 

Soup season extended

 

A few teaser days of spring sunshine and we're right back to the big chill. Snow flurries in places this morning and California hit with yet another storm. The west coast can't catch a break.They had more rain in LA this winter than Seattle. Now that's something.

So we're back to soup dinners. Those weird shrink-wrapped gnocci make an interesting alternative to noodles. This idea came from the New York Times cooking newsletter that shows up in my email each morning. The recipes tend to be complicated and I rarely follow them exactly, but it gives some daily inspiration.

While I took a nap yesterday, John diced celery, carrots, onion and garlic for the base-- simmered in canned broth and tomatoes. The chicken is just leftover Costco rotisserie, soup and enchiladas (we think) being the best uses for it. Right before serving, add the packaged gnocci-- it floats in a few minutes and you're ready to eat. This soup is the perfect combination of light and satisfying. 

 

Big pot. I don't know how well gnocci freezes, but John won't care if it turns gloppy.

I'm tired this morning because we watched the Gonzaga-UCLA game played last night in Las Vegas. And then I couldn't get to sleep. Too much blue light before bed.

I rarely sit through any televised game from start to finish, I usually wander off or else multi-task, but for some reason good basketball holds my attention. It's like horse races, where the winning usually comes down to the last few seconds. Anything can and does happen. Go, Zags. March Madness is a big deal, and the commercials seemed better than the Superbowl. 

Have a good weekend.

Oh, Elvis

 

We just watched "Elvis," the newest biopic movie. In the years since his death, over 30 films have been made about Elvis. People still can't get enough of him. This one was actually pretty good, mostly because it starred an overweight-looking Tom Hanks as Colonel Parker. Has he ever made a bad movie?

Hanks wore prosthetics and a fat suit because he has diabetes and no longer gains and loses weight for his movie roles. Elvis, played by cute Austin Butler, stayed svelte right up to the end of the movie when he died, which was less realistic. As we know, the beloved Elvis was rather portly in his Las Vegas days.

In other news, such a beautiful day yesterday, sunny and relatively warm. After I walked home from my morning shift at the Cafe, I went to Home Depot to get some primroses for the window box. So we have something colorful to look at before the geraniums come in at Costco. The nursery was hopping with a full-on spring shopping frenzy. Everyone is tired of this long winter.

But not so fast-- yet another cold front blowing through today with wind and rain, heavy snow in the mountains. Of course Thursday is the weekly outdoor patio ukulele gathering. I have a big grocery shopping to do this morning, and if it's pouring rain I'll just stay home and make chicken soup this afternoon. And I've barely put a dent in the new John Irvin book. Slow going, that one.

Tale of two springs

I took Nova out to feed the horses the evening before I left. The smell of wood smoke, chicken coop, thawing piles of frozen manure in the light rain--spring has sprung in the Valley. I sat there waiting while she did the chores, and that particular aroma took me back to the childhood dairy farm. (Although horses smell much better than cows!)

The drive back to Seattle was as good as it gets. Sunny skies, bone dry roads and light traffic in shoulder season. But it takes a generous heart to love the Valley in March. When we return sometime in April, all the dirty snow should be gone and life about to make an abrupt change to summer. The seasonal transitions don't linger over there.

In Seattle, a different seasonal story. There were a few warm days while I was gone and the cherry trees finally started blooming. A pretty and welcoming sight as I drove the last few blocks. No hyacinths or tulips yet in our garden, but hopefully just in time for Easter.

John bought a ham slice and some salad for dinner which was nice, because I didn't have to stop at the grocery store-- an awful chore after a long drive. Also a big baked potato, topped with delicious fresh chives from the pot. 

No lazing around this morning, I'm working at the Cafe. Back to Seattle realities.

Going, going (almost) gone

 

A cold March morning in the Valley. I was out early yesterday with Amanda, Nova and Maya, feeding the horses and giving Sparks and Buttons a little love.

It was only 28 degrees, but the air alive with the sound of birdsong. Along the highway, flocks of turkeys and a big Tom strutting his spring stuff.  It's been an especially good time for watching the waterfowl along the river. 

A constant parade of ducks, mostly playful Mergansers and the flashy black and white Golden Eyes.

In the strong morning sun, the snow on the deck is slowly retreating. Not fast enough. Do you wonder why I don't just shovel it off?  Hard as a rock now, from months of melting and re-freezing. Let nature take it's course. 

But I was able to squeeze in a chair to sit outside for a bit and contemplate the summer view to come. I'm going back to Seattle tomorrow, so that means today is mostly filled with light chores, getting the house shipshape for the next visit.

Twisp deer crossing

 

When you own the keys to the city, what's the rush? 

Everything is fine here, the house exactly as I left it. What a gift. Yesterday was glorious warm and dripping wet, the spring sun working away fast at the snow on the roofs and the dirty berms of snow lining the streets. I listened to the happy sound of water running all day.

Nova is caring for the local riding school horses this weekend while the owners are gone, quite a honor. So I'm looking forward to tagging along with her and Amanda this morning. The ranch is about 10 minutes out of town, up on Twisp River Road. It's a cold but nice morning.

More later...

And the cat came back...

 

That's Mike our group leader and members playing the funny song, "And the Cat Came Back, the Very Next Day." If that old chestnut doesn't make you smile, nothing will.

Well, this cat never even left yesterday, so I went to the West Seattle Ukulele jam at C&P Coffeehouse. Why? There was an overnight accident (yes, bad) on I-90 eastbound that closed the freeway for 12 hours yesterday. 

I could have gone a different route, over Stevens Pass, but wasn't feeling great and decided to wait a day. The flexibility on plans is the best thing about having your own place waiting. 

Anyway, looks like a beautiful day all across the state. I had a good nights sleep and ready to hit the road soon. The corned beef and cabbage dinner can wait until I get back to Seattle next week.

Happens ever year

 

The first hint of a nice day, and I hit the yard chores hard. Lugging around 50 pound containers, unloading bags of potting soil and so on. And manage to make myself achy and sore. Some people have short memories. Rough night, thank you Advil.

Anyway, it's a nice weather weekend coming up, with the warmest temperatures we've seen since last October. I plan to drive to Twisp later this morning and spend a few days at the house. No yard work over there, snow still on the ground but just starting to melt into the brief mud season. I'll check in from the other side in a day or so.

Wordless Wednesday

 

 

Maxfield Parrish

We need color

 

Our Northwest weather guru Cliff Mass says this is one of the coldest end-of-winter periods in historical record. This pretty drift of crocus spotted on my walk is typical in late February, and the cherry trees that line our streets in West Seattle haven't started to bloom yet. 

The Skagit Valley Tulip Festival folks are getting worried about throwing their party in a few weeks without the main attraction. 

Tulips? If you live in the Northeast with a new snowstorm barrelling down, you're thinking "get out the violins." 

We both still feel out of sorts from the time change. How is it that just one hour lost throws your body off? The gloomy weather doesn't help, but late afternoon yesterday the sun burst through the clouds and it suddenly looked like a summer evening, albeit without any warmth. 

I had some lamb chops defrosted and marinated to cook in the cast iron frying pan, but fired up the grill instead. Talk about meat as the star attraction on the plate. Peas and roasted red potato. What a spring treat of a meal, especially in the middle of Lent shame on us.

 Not much else in the way of news. John finished the gigantic puzzle Amanda gave him for Christmas. I contributed about 50 pieces to the effort.

The rogue palm

 

A well-meaning gardener from the Seattle Parks and Recreation Department planted this Windmill Palm along the sidewalk at Alki Beach. It was saved from a nearby demolition site.

New to his position, he didn't realize that parking strip belongs to the Seattle Department of Transportation. They require permits (of course) for any new tree, so the palm is officially trespassing.

If that isn't bad enough, the Windmill is native to the mountains of China, and nasty comments soon collected on the West Seattle blog.  One of my favorite trees, who knew knew palms were so politically incorrect and disliked:

“Ridiculous. Besides the argument that they should be planting something native instead, palms are so ugly. Like telephone poles with a sickly fern on top.” 

“Personally, I’d rather see a shore pine or an indigenous tree. Salal? Even a rhododendron. Palm trees? Not whimsical, kinda stupid.”

Maybe people walk by our house, saying cruel things about our stately palm tree.  

Well, the poor little Alki palm has some defenders, like this person:

"I am usually not the sentimental type, but suddenly I feel sorry for this palm tree, so hated on by the correct-mob. Long live the palm tree. I wish it would run for city council.”

Me too. 

It's ironic to complain about a single palm when West Seattle is losing tree canopy faster than any part of the city. Most of it due to lot development like this a few blocks from us. A typical Seattle modest bungalow with a backyard of fruit trees and shrubs, fast becoming three houses on a single lot.

The new house on the left is a typical Seattle ADU, but the big 3-story box is actually an AADU (attached accessory dwelling unit) or a legally permitted "unit in the home." In other words, an addition. The tip off is the little umbilical walkway that attaches the box to the old house. Interesting aesthetic there.

That's the look of the future, since more ADU's are being constructed in Seattle than single family houses. The permitting process for these "backyard cottages" was originally pretty strict. Now they don't require off-street parking, and the owner doesn't even have to live on the property. This really opens things up for dense development. Our corner lot could probably hold six tall townhouses...

Well, enough of that. Time marches on, all of us bleary-eyed this morning from losing an hour of it to daylight saving time.

Somewhere, over the rainbow

 

Maya at the piano...

Have a good weekend.

High mileage ham

 

Yes, we should eat more of a plant-based diet. If we eat meat, it should be the supporting actor, not the star attraction on the plate-- bean dishes, soups, vegetable stir fries and that sort of thing.   

There's a bit of food-shaming these days about eating any meat at all. Especially factory farm meat. 

We still enjoy a big roast or nice turkey on the holidays. I can't waste a scrap of those leftovers, out of simple respect for the animal, not to mention, the people who work miserable jobs getting it to the grocery stores. It seems like the least you can do. (My sermon for the day.) 

We carried big ham in the cooler to Twisp in December, and it fed us all generously, plus sandwiches and omelettes. There was still plenty of meat to bring back to Seattle, which I froze for later. The meaty bone I left in my freezer over there, and last trip cooked it with beans in the crock pot. Our neighbors came over for happy hour that day and stayed for supper. I was glad I had something to feed them. Hit the spot on a cold night with a few glasses of John's good wine.

So that ham had many miles on it, stretched out over many, many good meals. I finally used up the last frozen package the other night in a satisfying cheesy ham and potato casserole. It's still too cold to be counting calories.

Wordy Wednesday

 

What are you reading? Back in the last century, I belonged to a book discussion group, and we read a fair amount of serious non-fiction. It was fun, but it took quite a bit of effort to attend or host the meetings. The women were very nice and intensely smart. I'd be way out of my depth now.

Once a month, we drove through rush hour traffic to meet up for dinner and talk about books. Needless to say, we were younger and energetic, even after a full workday at Microsoft. Occasionally, we met in restaurants, but mostly in people's homes. It was never a pot luck. The host owned the dinner plans.

Which became more gourmet as time went on. Eventually, it was more about the food experience and socializing than the books. I once cooked whole Cornish game hens for 8. All those bones? What was I thinking? Another time, homemade butter crust individual potpies. Grilled sausages outdoors with several salads. Really.

I guess it's typical for our reading tastes to evolve over time. During the pandemic, I went on author jags, reading everything by Ivan Doig, John Irving and Daphne du Mauier. It's good to revisit favorites and pick up new ones. Everyone knows "Rebecca" but not "My Cousin Rachel." A old-fashioned, psychological page turner with Mauier's beautifully descriptive writing. There's something satisfying about going through an entire author's works, in order. 

And I've always liked Larry McMurtry, enough to re-read some of his books. You wouldn't admit to liking a paperback author in my old book group, even if he did win a Pulitzer Prize. But his stories have vivid, complex characters like Gus in "Lonesome Dove." No author writes more entertaining dialog.

I skim though the New York Times book supplement on Sundays, and to be honest, just reading the reviews and synopsis of most new books is enough. My attention span isn't what it used to be. Give me a good, well-written story I can pick up without having to read backwards and figure out where I dozed off.

Speaking of big storytellers. I'm snow-plowing my way through Irving's latest novel "The Last Chairlift," all 881 pages. At 80, Irving claims this is his last big novel, maybe a mercy for his faithful readers. 

I have a dear old friend from those book group days, and she couldn't get past the first few hundred pages, the writing is so redundant. 

So far, I like it, in the way you "enjoy" grinding along through all of Irving's mega novels. And I have tolerance for his peculiar brand of verbal redundancy. Heck, I'm getting redundant myself! How many times have I blogged about the same old thing?

Since we grew up in Colorado (skiing) it's interesting reading about the old-fashioned races and places like Aspen in the 1940's and 50's, long before they became Filthy Rich Ski Towns. I'm only on page 50 of this mighty tome, and if I make it through, look for a book review in about 2 months.

Apple Walnut Crostata

 

Easy as 1, 2, 3. 

These are also called "rustic tarts," and basically it's just a lazy, open face pie. Sometimes the bottom crust turns out soggy, but this time I used a perforated pizza pan and that did the trick. Quite a fancy looking dessert, considering the amount of work.  

The apples came from Lone Pine Fruit. They have a selection year-round of more interesting varieties for about a dollar a pound. We also bought some to make homemade applesauce. Of course, these are all last years apples, but still good enough for cooking.   

Short on warmth, the March days are blending together. I need to prune and fertilize the roses, but not very inspiring when it's 35 degrees. The outdoor chores are piling up. 

The "Full Worm Spring Moon" last night (wake up, slimy guys) and then Daylight Savings Time change in a few days. Surely one of the more ridiculous things we submit ourselves to, year after year.

Keeping busy

 

Looks like the girls got into competitive crochet practice this weekend. It snowed another 4 inches in Twisp and winter has worn out its welcome on both sides of the mountains. We're all ready to be released from the barn, like Dad's dairy cows in the spring.

After a wet and boring Saturday, the chilly sun came out Sunday morning so I walked to the year-round, weekly Farmer's Market at the West Seattle Junction. It's 2 mile round trip from our house, my typical daily walk, although I rarely go that way because of the noisy traffic. Anyway, it was nice seeing people out, almost everyone with a dog. Or two. Did you know there are more dogs than children in Seattle?

The Girl Scouts were doing a gang-buster business selling cookies. There isn't much to buy at the market this time of year, other than expensive winter vegetables and baked goods-- how about $12 for a smallish loaf of artisan bread? 

I remembered our grandmother talking about people taking "a wheelbarrow of paper money" just to buy a loaf of bread. That was Germany between the world wars, when high inflation sent many Europeans high-tailing to the U.S. 

I splurged on a tiny container of micro-greens and 2 boxes of cookies, more than I once spent for a week's groceries. Grandma would have been shocked.

I laid out a 1000-piece! puzzle we got for Christmas and true to form, John can't leave it alone for long. Too hard and tedious for me.

Bangers and mash for a comfort food Sunday supper. And don't get me started on the price of our favorite local Isernios sausage. Well, life is short. Too short not to enjoy (almost) guilt-free chicken apple links with onions and peppers. Potatoes mashed with a big gob of butter. An ice cream cone for dessert. No wonder I'm feeling a bit sluggish this morning.