Last but not least, I took Nova up to the ranch last night do chores and ride Ginger. She is riding in her first horse show next weekend. More on that later.
This morning, back to the big city. A rainy drive ahead.
Last but not least, I took Nova up to the ranch last night do chores and ride Ginger. She is riding in her first horse show next weekend. More on that later.
This morning, back to the big city. A rainy drive ahead.
Not the typical peaceful view this morning. The empty land across the river from our house is privately owned and the site of an old lumber mill.
The property isn't posted, so locals are accustomed to using it for dog walking, biking and such. In recent years, there's been occasional illegal camping and other questionable stuff going on over there, like drug dealing and car racing. Yes, even in this small town.
For the last few days, they've been bull-dozing all the scrubby trees and vegetation off the property. This morning, they're burning the big piles of brush. Something about fire, intentional or not, gets your attention fast at 6 am.
That land is in Twisp city limits, so it's quite valuable for development purposes. It looks like a project might finally be in works. There's a lack of housing in the valley, so this is inevitable and not a bad thing, but from my selfish point of view, it will be a big adjustment looking across the river at lights and houses instead of open land.
A busy day shaping up-- time to close the laptop and get cracking.
That's the confluence of the Methow and Twisp Rivers at the City Park yesterday. The Methow River is running at about 2,000 CFS now, which is about 60% of normal for April.
This is the same spot last spring, when the river crested at 18,000 CFS. May 2023 was unseasonably warm, causing a rapid melt off in the mountains. A number of factors must converge for damaging floods in the valley: an exceptionally warm spring, high snow pack, slow moving rain storms. It's happened before and will again, but not this year. (Famous last words.)
Another then and now view in front of the house. It's so peaceful here, especially compared to the constant background din in West Seattle.
I was on my own yesterday, but the rest of the week is busier. I'm having lunch with my friend Karen and there's a track meet at the school tonight. Tomorrow, fingers crossed, a new washer and dryer delivered from the Home Depot store way over in Omak. I ordered it a month ago. No more hauling towels and sheets back and forth from Seattle? Wow.
Chicken thighs aren't exactly health food, so baking them on a rack is a good hack. And you can make an easy Nashville hot chicken with Frank's sauce. Almost as good as fried.
The authentic spice paste they use in restaurants has two ingredients: lard and cayenne pepper,
mixed together, three parts pepper to
one part lard and heated until they form a thick sauce. That gets slathered on the freshly fried chicken and melts right in. Oh, my goodness.
Today will be beautiful in Seattle, not a cloud in the sky close to 70. I have one more rough project (digging out a clump of dying Mondo grass.) I'll take a rest until the tulip leaves die back--then a final clean-up of the spring mess before we tick over to weeding and watering season.
I'm heading over to Twisp this weekend, and I'll see you next from the other side.
Bluebells...such a sweet flower, so evocative of England where they carpet the countryside in an enchanting sea of blue. The bluebell there is protected under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, and digging up the plant or bulb is prohibited.
Keep in mind, that flower is not to be confused with their rough cousin, the Spanish bluebell (above) which is very similar in appearance to the British bluebell.
As they say, a weed is just a flower in the wrong place.
Spanish bluebells invade lawns and take over flower beds, the heavy leaves choking out everything else coming up.
A Google search shows all the creative (and violent) ways people have tried to kill them: poison, flamethrower, boiling water, stomping the leaves to mush, cutting the tops off until they "starve" and so on. Oh, the rage.
Persistent as bamboo, none of these methods really work. All you can do is dig up the tiny deep bulbs--backbreaking work and impossible if there are "nice" plants growing in the vicinity.
It looks like a wild hog rooted through this bed. Yesterday I sliced off the bluebell leaves so the lilies and dahlias have some breathing space. But I'm just kicking the can down the road. Soon the flower beds will fill in and bluebells forgotten until next spring.
When you've lived for 3/4 of a century, you have to pick your battles.
I bought 12 geraniums at Costco yesterday and look forward to getting them potted up today. Sparkling frost on the cars this morning, but we're headed into a beautiful stretch of warm weather. Seattle is spectacular on these sunny spring days. All the big trees around us are greening up and blooming, and they help block the sight of houses and development.
Other than the fact they're common, what bad thing can you say about
plain red geraniums? These will bloom right up until November. We once grew amazing fuchsias and other fussy things, but summers have become so hot and dry hanging baskets are impossible to keep watered.
I still need to plant the tomato and pepper pots we grow on the baking south side of the house. I'll stop at Lone Pine the next time I go to Twisp. They often have a selection of vegetable starts with better quality and price than Home Depot.
Here's a funny quote!
“Long experience has taught me that people who do not like geraniums
have something morally unsound about them. Sooner or later you will find
them out; you will discover that they drink, or steal books, or speak
sharply to cats. Never trust a man or a woman who is not passionately
devoted to geraniums.”
―
Beverley Nichols
The first batch of chicks, 2020
Look at those little girls. What happened?
The Twisp hens are a real success story, and provide the family with fresh eggs almost year round. With simple care, chickens are surprisingly hardy and can acclimate to the harsh winters and hot summers.
They are basically backyard pets and come running, begging for vegetable scraps, when someone goes out the back door. Their constant "talking" is soothing to the ear, and they have individual personalities.
Chickens live an average of 3-7 years so there's been attrition from natural causes. Only one of the original pandemic flock is still around, plain little black "Leah," who even survived a dog attack. She went weird and broody last year, and hardly left her nest box for months. Maybe a rest cure is the secret to long life?
Anyway, each spring the girls order a few new baby chicks from the feed store in town. It's an exciting day when they arrive and the kids walk down to pick them up.
This year they bought "Easter Eggers" and "Black Sex Link." These are special cross-breeds, valued for their prolific laying, personality and hardiness. The "Easter Eggers" lay a variety of colors: light blue, green to pink. How cute is that?
Apple products are basically a closed ecosystem, which is both good and bad. People love or hate them. Users are pretty much expected to use Apple's software, and Apple takes the middle ground on customization and features attempting to please everyone (the Photos app is a good example) which some say results in mediocrity. The strategy works, because Apple has a cult following.
Here's the biggest advantage: You bring your shiny new toy home and turn it on, it says hello, then sets itself up and works seamlessly with every Apple product you own. Same family, and they all get along just dandy.
I put off getting a new laptop long as possible. My switch from PC to Mac 10 years ago was pretty bumpy, but we've come a long way since then. Using Migration Assistant, within 3 hours everything was copied from my old MacBook Pro to the new.
And I mean everything: settings, favorites, bookmarks, saved passwords, etc. When I turned it on, the screen was the same as my old, except better.
John had to listen to me fretting during the process, but other than that, my personal tech assistant got off easy!
It needs a few tweaks, but what a difference in speed and features. At the same time, everything is familiar enough not to be intimidating. Mission accomplished.
My trusty old laptop is literally falling apart at the seams. Did you know they're held together by itty bitty screws?
See that gap? EEK. And no, it can't just be "screwed back" because the holes are stripped.This MacBook Pro was the latest and greatest over 10 years ago, a generous Christmas gift from John which took me kicking and screaming from the PC world over to Appleland, never to return.
It's served me well on countless trips, tapping out thousands of blog posts since 2009 and the home of my 17,000 photos, neurotically organized in chronological order by month and year (once a librarian, always a librarian.)
I placed an online order and will pick up a new MacBook Pro at the Apple Store today. Then the fun part begins, as the new machine copies everything off the old. At least that's how it's supposed to work using Apple's Migration Assistant. I'm thinking positive. In general, Apple makes it easy to upgrade their devices. Which might be one reason they have a market cap of $2.70 TRILLION.
Have a good weekend. If the computer gods are favorable, I'll be back Monday.
We watched the new Netflix documentary about Arnold Schwarzenegger. The three episodes cover his early life and bodybuilding, the Hollywood years, and finally his California political career.
I've never been a fan of body-building much less violent movies, but the documentary was interesting. He's a real force of nature, physically and mentally, but also charismatic with a sharp sense of humor. At age 75, he's now seen as an elder statesman.
Arnold was born in Austria right after WWII. He had an old-school, Germanic upbringing. Praise was given sparingly, if at all, and siblings were shamed and compared to each other. Punishment was harsh. This was pretty typical for the time and culture, but Arnold's father was damaged after the war, which came out in alcoholism and cruel ways. Arnold attributes his drive and success in life to the overwhelming desire to get away from his family.
I could relate to some of the cultural stuff, especially when he talks about the importance of doing something, anything, instead of acting like a victim. Maybe we had a "Germanic lite" upbringing, because "go make yourself useful" was frequent advice in our house.
Anyway. Enough of that. The tulips are at their peak this week. The windows are clean and John mowed yesterday. Everything looks beautiful under the soft, grey sky.
Spring is a long, slow process in western Washington, and it seems this April has been chillier than usual. Of course, the contrast of coming back from the warm desert doesn't help. But when the sun does peek out, the blooming trees are beautiful in our neighborhood. It is a lovely (albeit damp) season here.
I'm looking forward to summer food, especially grilling, but for now we're still in full winter meal mode: pasta and meatballs, tacos, hearty soup. We used the pretty Vaquero beans in the soup above, and they made a dark, rich broth. Surprising, because they are black and white, like little pinto horses. And hallelujah, I finally used up the leftover ham in the freezer.
The garden is a wonderful mess of tulips, the lush leaves and flowers flopping all over the invasive bluebells.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Perfection is an illusion. You'll be a happier gardener when you accept those facts.
We have cut spring flowers in every room and they smell lovely. Three cheers for the tall red and yellow Darwin hybrids, the workhorses of the tulip world and the only dependable repeaters.
Costco sells the sturdy Darwin bulbs for a song, compared to those Dutch catalogs with all the fancy, frilly ones. The pictures are tempting, but the bulbs are feeble and only last a year or so.
Until fall rolls around again, yard work is mostly the routine of weeding and cutting back spent flowers and foliage. And very familiar work, after over four decades of grubbing around on this little plot of land.
Every season is the same and different. The holly, the laurel hedge and the fig tree are the only original plants still here from 1980. So many others, beautiful and not-so, have lived out their lifespans under my watch.
Wishing you good luck and clear skies if you're in the path of the eclipse today.
Waiting for our flight yesterday morning at Palm Springs International Airport was still laid-back, although everything is changing.
The pleasant open air atrium was under construction. They took out the seating and Chihuly art to make room for a new bar and grill. They're also opening a clothing store in the outdoor area behind where I was relaxing above. So, a different scene when we go back again.
We had fun as always, but will find a different place to stay. The new Lucille Inn was OK, but we missed the lush grounds of the magical old Andalusian. With the trees and hedges cut back, the pool area was hot and bright with lots of competition for umbrella shade. Couples staked out their chaises right after breakfast.
Hopefully, they allow some of greenery to grow back. But as I already mentioned, it was unforgivable to paint the 100-year old flagstone floors ugly black-- and already chipping off.
Goodness, it was cold when we got home and it took the furnace forever to warm up the house again. I pulled some chili out of the freezer and went to bed early.
We went to an afternoon Symphony concert this afternoon. Violin "superstar" Ray Chen playing Korngold's Concerto in D Major. A nice end a week of vacation. This weekend, nothing but relaxation and laundry.
We visited the new Agua Caliente Cultural Museum yesterday. If you ever come to Palm Springs, don't miss it. Beautifully designed with fascinating exhibits, I can't remember enjoying a museum as much.
We're stuffing the suitcases with dirty clothes then heading to the airport for our flight back to Seattle this morning.
As we learned yesterday, the word "goodbye" does not exist in the local native language.
Instead we say:
We're staying in Lemon Tree Villa, named by the new owner after the tree in our courtyard. By miracle, it survived the recent pruning rampage on the grounds and it's covered with ripe fruit. They still provide the pole fruit picker for guest use, so we'll take some home tomorrow. Most fall on the ground and go to waste.
It is the height of high season in Palm Springs, so everything is busy and crowded, from streets to restaurants. I'm not too sorry missing Village Fest tomorrow night, because it will be wall-to-wall tourists. And no wonder people flock here in April-- town feels like a paradise, with flowers blooming and the desert mountains still a delicate shade of green. The heat is just around the corner.
Yesterday we joined a long line of cars paying admission at the Indian Canyons Preserve, then walked the 1 mile loop at Andreas Canyon. It was a lovely morning and good timing. We were just leaving as two school busses pulled into the parking lot.
More pictures, mostly taken by John: