Friday, September 29, 2023

Shine on

 

Harvest Moon, by George Manson

It's going to be a perfect fall weekend with crisp, sunny weather. The skies cleared out in time for the full harvest moon, also a Super Moon. 

Today is Chinese Moon Festival, the holiday for sharing beautiful moon cakes.

Moon cakes are always served in slices to show off the fancy fillings. They are also very rich. Everyone should try a moon cake-- once. Years ago, John's generous co-workers gave him an entire box. They last a long, long time ;-)

The crust is usually made with lard, and inside there's a thick filling of bean paste (or other things) along with yolks from salted duck eggs. That unusual combination of sweet, bland and salty so strange to American palates.  

Have a good weekend. Over to Rosie:


 

 

Thursday, September 28, 2023

Raindrops keep fallin'

 

Wet, wet, wet. Our world went from bone dry to soaking in the blink of an eye.  We've had an impressive amount of rain, even for Northwest fall weather.

So long to those sunny ukulele afternoons. This was taken at our party just three weeks ago, which already seems like a long time. Today we're huddled again under the small covered patio at the coffeehouse. It's a good thing we like each other. What a nice group.

As to the power outage yesterday, it lasted 4 hours. I got dressed in the semi-dark and John drove me to work at the Senior Center, where they still had power. It passed the time, but I felt discombobulated for the rest of the day, not having my morning shower and regular breakfast. We are creatures of habit.

Our house is at the end of one of those long (unlucky) grids, so the houses on both sides of the street didn't lose power. Misery loves company, so that's annoying, even though it isn't their fault.

These West Seattle outages occur frequently now. I can't remember losing power in the first 35 years we lived here. 

Seattle City Light gives various reasons, like trees falling on lines and speeding cars taking out poles. Frankly, the old grid must be overloaded from the building density. You can't pack people into thousands of new condos and apartments and neglect infrastructure like power and transportation. (Well, actually, in Seattle, you can.)

Anyway, that's the latest news from the dripping Northwest.



Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Dead in the water

Major power outage in West Seattle this morning. Phone blogging is not my thing. 

See ya tomorrow. 

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

"Hunger is the best sauce"

 

Our Grandma could never waste a home grown apple, no matter how small or wormy. She would find this mess in the front yard disturbing.

I'm the same when it comes to wasting meat, case in point, this macaroni casserole made with bits of leftover roast pork and onion gravy stashed in the freezer. Delicious + fattening,

Mom would have fed 8 people with this. Creative casseroles were big in the 1950's. We weren't picky eaters as kids and scarfed down whatever was on the table, from salmon loaf to canned Chung King. 

No one had ever heard of "low carb" and meat and potatoes reigned. She was a frugal cook and carefully doled out five servings for dinner. There were rarely leftovers and bread was the end filler, followed by dessert, often just a dish of jello or a canned peach half. 

The rain keeps coming, and we've already received a month's worth in a couple days. The parched Seattle yards are greening up again. It was an exceptional summer, but everyone seems happy getting back to fall routines. Not to mention, football.

 


Monday, September 25, 2023

Thank you, climate change

 

We have a big old fig tree in the yard, which should be a wondrous thing, except it only produces small green figs that never ripen. Thousands of them rotting on the ground, a frustrating sight for fig lovers.

I believe our tree variety is "Brown Turkey," a good name for it. But as the summers are trending much hotter and drier, the past few years I've been able to find a few that were actually ripe enough to taste. And this weekend, I picked about a dozen soft, fat ones.

They are very sweet although not especially juicy. I found a recipe for roast figs: just a pinch of brown sugar and cinnamon on top, baked for about 45 minutes until they carmelize.


 
Now we're talking hyper-sweet. You could eat these like jam. 

The look of fall in the Northwest, with a parade of incoming rainstorms this week.


 

Friday, September 22, 2023

Transitions

 

A fine balance now, with the length of day and night almost equal. We have a healthy circadian rhythm going before tipping over into the Dark Time. I slept nine hours last night, some sort of personal best record. I'm usually a pitiful, restless sleeper with my mind working overtime in the middle of the night. I know, stupid.

It was a good drive over the mountains yesterday, with light traffic and perfect weather. I left Twisp early and was already at Lone Pine by 8 am, drinking a chai latte.

The new local apples were in, so I bought a bagful (88 cents a pound for any variety) also a Kubota squash, pears, potatoes and sweetcorn. They had boxes of plums. No thanks!

 I already had a pie and a ham slice from Hanks in the cooler. Yes, John was happy to see me, especially when dinner rolled around. 

We have one more day of sunshine before a big change in the weather pattern. Next week will be the wettest period of the entire year, which tells you just how dry it's been. 

 
This is one of my favorite pictures of all time, taken in October 2013. We had just been to a beautiful wedding in Levenworth, and made a side trip to see the family in Twisp. Ten years ago. How is that possible? Maya looks like a Cabbage Patch doll.
 

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Across the great divide

 

 

The first dusting of snow in the North Cascade Mountains was the talk of the town yesterday. I drove up to Sun Mountain Lodge outside of Winthrop to take a look. Summer officially ends today with clear blue skies and warm temperatures, an excellent day for driving.

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Point and shoot

 

We take them for granted but the new phone cameras are really a marvel. Once upon a time, you needed skill and practice to take good pictures. Not to mention, patience.

There was just the slightest light in the sky last night, but the magic camera technology lit up this scene. I was sitting outside on the deck finishing my tea, watching the shadows of deer on probably the last warmish night for the year. 

Around 3 am, it started raining so hard it woke me up, thinking how glad I turned the irrigation system off. There's no sound more ridiculous than listening to sprinklers running in the rain. And who wants to go outside in the dark and wet?

Maya came down to the house yesterday after school. I treasure the time with her, because it probably won't be long until she is just as busy as Nova. It's only natural that grandparents and parents can't compete with friends and teenage activities, but still kind of sad when this happens.

Maya likes crafts and she is a keen baker so maybe I can entice her over.  The spare bedroom is set up as our art and sewing area--a wonderful luxury of space we don't have in the Seattle house.

She likes painting with watercolors and keeps her art kit tidy. I told her she should come visit me more often, and she said "Nana, you should come to Twisp more often." Touche. 

Back to the city tomorrow.

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Tracks and tales

 

Big old racoon tracks on the beach in front of the house. Oddly human-looking. The country coons are nothing like their insolent city cousins who just stare you down. In Twisp, you rarely catch sight of them, and they dash away when they see people-- probably for good reason. 

They are finally ready to pave the streets after the sewer and water line repairs. I was out walking yesterday and asked one of the workers. He said next week. 

There are mountains of gravel everywhere, like our endless school track project. Where does it all come from? Makes you wonder of the world is in danger of running out. Speaking of gravel, the local guy I had lined up to do our driveway never came back. So it goes. It looks good enough and saved some money. Maybe next year after the snow plowers scrape more off.

The roads around here were in terrible shape before the excavations, so we'll feel like first class citizens when it's finally done. I don't have a dirt bike much less experience riding one, so missed my little jaunts around town this summer. But next year should be smooth as silk riding. Here alone and so far from any kind of medical help, it just makes sense to be extra cautious. I can get around fine on my own two feet.

Tom made a hearty dinner yesterday and tonight they're coming here. Of course we miss Amanda but everyone is doing fine. The girls love Thai curry and I'll try a recipe in my brand new crock pot. I don't use a crock pot in Seattle, but here it's just the ticket.

The mornings are dark and very cool. The fall rains start next week in the mountains, so this trip was good timing.

Monday, September 18, 2023

Me and the turkeys

 


I'm in Twisp for a few days, taking in the last bit summer weather. It's going to be a quiet visit. Amanda is out-of-town working on the clinical hours required for her master's degree in psychiatric nursing. If all goes well, she graduates next spring after several years of remote classwork through Gonzaga University.

An enormous undertaking and everything is more complicated in a remote rural area. For example, she can't find enough in-person hours closer to home. The lack of clinics in Central Washington shows the great need for more working professionals and mental health resources. We're so proud of her.

Obviously life is harder for Tom when Mom is away, but they're pulling together as a family. The girls are super busy with school and activities, but hopefully I'll see them in the evening.

With people back from summer travel and school started, no surprise that Covid is going around the Valley like crazy. My dear neighbor and her husband have both been sick. Seeing her is always a highlight of my visits, but unfortunately not this time. I'll leave some soup on the plague doorstep today and wave from a distance. Covid is pretty much poo pooed now as just a mild illness, but who wants it?  Especially when we’ve never had it, at least that we know of. Soon we can get our booster shots.

I'll just putter around the house and watch the wildlife. It's smoky today from fires in the north Cascades; yesterday I drove by the still smoldering landscape. 

A picture of those big girls having a good time in Pt. Townsend this weekend.



Friday, September 15, 2023

Rosh Hashanah

 


These September days pass too quickly and the month is half over already. For many people, fall feels like more of a new beginning than frozen January. Autumn is also a nostalgic time, as nature transitions from summer to winter.

My knowledge of Judaism is pretty superficial, unfortunately, but the holiday that really speaks to me is Rosh Hashanah. The poet Marge Piercy called it "the birthday of the world."

Along with a celebration of new life, Jewish New Year also includes a period of self-examination, penitence and resolutions. These traditions are truly universal and all religions have something similar, such as Lent.

Anyway, autumn seems the best season to celebrate the new year, especially with delicious foods like sweet breads, apple cake, honey, roast brisket and matzo ball soup. Surrounded by friends and family, would could be better?

Have a great weekend. 

Thursday, September 14, 2023

Summer vibe

 

September is usually one of the nicest months here and this is no exception, with warm and dry weather for another week at least. Yes, the Northwest could use some rain, being way below average for the year. 

I planted 20 hyacinth bulbs yesterday in dry, sandy soil and it was a chore, with the holes filling in. But sure beats working on a cold, wet, dark day. The fall rains will soon water them.

The West Seattle Ukulele group has been meeting now for a year, and today we're having an potluck to celebrate the anniversary. It started with just a handful of players in the gazebo at the SSCC Arboretum. 

We played at outdoor venues every Thursday all winter. It was a nice bonding experience for the original members. The group has really grown since then, with some people traveling from across town. Last week there was hardly a corner left to sit outdoors at the CP Coffeehouse, and I arrived 15 minutes early.

WSUP started as an alternative ukulele gathering, back when people were still worried (with good reason) about playing and singing indoors at the Senior Center. It will be interesting to see how things evolve from here, since the group is too large now to huddle under the covered patio at CP Coffeehouse, like we did last year. 

Finding a regular indoor venue is difficult, and of course would be expensive. CP allows us to hang out "free" and most people are courteous enough to buy a drink.

Once on a roll, you can't hold down uke players, so I guess we will figure something out for winter. I'm not on Facebook, but you can follow WSUP there.

 

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

National Peanut Day

 

Who remembers the wonderful smell of the Sears hot nut counter? Back in the days when we dressed up to go shopping and the little paper cone of warm, crunchy nuts was an extravagant treat. Have a nutty day!

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

There was a crooked house

 

I finally washed the windows this week, inside and out, which let in the light to highlight the dust. This has been an exceptionally dirty summer from all the heavy construction, sending up clouds across the neighborhood. Sure feel sorry for anyone who recently painted their house. All of our white trim is positively grey. 

Anyway, there isn't a level wall or floor in this 100-year old house, so John puts shims under the heavy furniture so drawers open and such. Our oak filing cabinet weighs about 1,000 pounds and decided to come off its shims, so that was the early morning project. Of course moving it revealed a mess of spider webs and filth under all the furniture in this room. Thank you Mr. Swiffer for the finest invention of the century. 

In other home news, the dishwasher isn't getting the dishes clean anymore. It isn't operator error, because loading it is John's department. Anyway, a dishwasher does gets a workout here. Just four years old, but already at that point where it makes more sense to replace than try and repair. Remember when you expected major appliances to last a lifetime?

In other news. Applesauce. 


I don't have one of those old-fashioned mills for sieving applesauce. And I didn't need it, because these perfectly diced bits of peeled apple (cut by you-know-who) cooked right down to a perfect consistency. I canned 6 pints yesterday. I am so done. 

Monday, September 11, 2023

Fall decorations

 


Yes, those apples are from our tree. Yes, they have worms.

Costco has these amazing potted mums every September. Who can resist? Of course, like everything there, you have to work for it and push the dang thing around the store then somehow get it in your car.

I also bought purple Halloween lights so the porch looks festive at night. When we did the rewiring, the electricians installed a new outdoor outlet, something I wanted for years, so might as well use  it. Around Thanksgiving, I'll switch to white Christmas lights.

John has the lights on an automatic timer, set for our wine time. As if we're going to forget! ha ha.

Chrysanthemums are easy and cheap to propagate with cuttings, which how they can sell these big balls for only $15 and still make money. This type of mum is considered semi-hardy. 

They sometimes survive the winter, but like greenhouse poinsettias and amaryllis, it has one moment of glory and despite all your efforts to "make it bloom again" it will never look this beautiful again. I guess there's a lesson there, but too early in the morning to ponder.

Friday, September 8, 2023

A beautiful and nostalgic month

 

I was looking back at past September blogs this morning, and found Nova and Maya with their fruit and flower stand in our backyard. Only five years ago, but it feels like a lifetime since they were this small. Enjoy the moment.

Absolute September

How hard it is to take September
straight—not as a harbinger
of something harder.

Merely like suds in the air, cool scent
scrubbed clean of meaning—or innocent
of the cold thing coldly meant.

How hard the heart tugs at the end
of summer, and longs to haul it in
when it flies out of hand

at the prompting of the first mild breeze.
It leaves us by degrees
only, but for one who sees

summer as an absolute,
Pure State of Light and Heat, the height
to which one cannot raise a doubt,

as soon as one leaf's off the tree
no day following can fall free
of the drift of melancholy.

-Mary Jo Salter

Thursday, September 7, 2023

Hard to believe

 

Hard to believe we still have plums. John picked the last ones off the tree yesterday, and there's at least 20 pounds sitting in the dining room waiting for something. And ashamed to say, despite all I gave away to neighbors and canned, many went to waste on the ground. 

As you can see, John "pruned" the tree. I don't like seeing him take on big garden jobs because he gets too enthusiastic, but in this case, the branches were broken off from the sheer weight of the fruit and it had to be done.

The tree will sprout right back next summer, although it won't bloom in early spring, so no plums until the following year. (Wendy, I'll come begging if we're out of chutney by then, which I doubt.) 

Speaking of homegrown fruit, we're not done yet. There's a bumper crop of nice Sparta apples this year, also unusual. Maybe some canned or frozen applesauce next week?

John's birthday cake yesterday. 

That's all the news from the House of Plum.

Wednesday, September 6, 2023

Another birthday boy

 

Happy birthday, John. The way the years are spinning by, you'll hit 99 before you know it.

The travel gods were sure favorable this weekend. So much could have gone wrong. Heavy monsoon storms on Saturday, and we descended through serious looking thunder heads. Castles in the sky from the window seat:

I've looked at clouds from both sides nowFrom up and down and still somehowIt's cloud illusions I recallI really don't know clouds at all.
"Clouds" by Joni Mitchell

The rain doesn't fool around either in the desert. There were dangerous looking brown rivers running through the valley in places where it is normally bone dry. 

By Sunday, the weather train passed through and locals were just complaining about the humidity. It felt quite tropical. This has been the wettest monsoon season in Las Vegas since 1985. The yards were blooming like spring; the cactus swollen with moisture. 

Our flights were on time, always a minor miracle. The many pieces of this complicated trip came together, despite one glitch. John stood in line over an hour at the rental car counter only to find out there were no cars available at the airport, with any company. (Yes, we had a reservation.) 

A waste of vacation time, but what can you do? The unfortunate customers who waited in the first line were then sent off to a second long line in the dark garage, waiting for return cars to trickle in. Anyway, none of that for us. My trusty Uber app to the rescue again.

In 5 minutes flat, we were speeding away from the nasty car rental center in a clean SUV with a competent driver in the rain. It turned out to be a good thing, since we really didn't need that hassle of a rental when our hotel was just a few miles from Marji's house. Back and forth with the friendly Uber drivers, helping the local economy. Or we borrowed her car.

The three of us siblings haven't been together (at the same time) for years so we had a long overdue family visit. The highlight of course was the wonderful party, especially meeting Marji's friends from her writer's group. Dad was feeling well and had a great time. He also received a giant stack of over 100 cards and letters in the mail from folks all around the country. What a celebrity.

If you remember, at his birthday bash last year, we had Christina the Showgirl and a backyard barbecue. A hard act to follow, but Marji pulled off another smashing success. This time a lovely and relaxed afternoon reception-- delicious cakes, sandwiches, and many champagne toasts. 

We said she better start thinking about next year!

 



Monday, September 4, 2023

A beautiful tribute


The star of the show, manning the autograph table...

And one heck of a reception, with over 30 friends and neighbors at the party celebration.

And best of all, being together at the same time. That's Dave, me, John and Marji and Sam, our amazing 99 year old Dad. A beautiful tribute for a beautiful life.  

Many thanks, Marji, for another unforgettable party.

Friday, September 1, 2023

Celebration weekend

 

During the pandemic, my sister began interviewing our Dad and recording his life stories for her creative writing class at the University of Las Vegas. 

This collection of stories and anecdotes eventually became a book project that documents the highs and lows of his long, full life. The book was recently published as a paperback on Amazon.

Congratulations, Marji!

We are very proud of her, especially her generosity in mailing dozens of copies to family members and old friends around the country. A true labor of love. 

People have been thrilled to receive the book, and the cards and tributes for Dad are pouring in. Always a modest man, he's been overwhelmed by all the attention for just a "Pennsylvania Dutch farm boy." 

John and I, along with my brother Dave, are flying to Las Vegas this weekend to celebrate both Marji's accomplishment and Dad's incredible 99th birthday September 3rd. Stay tuned for party pictures.