Winter scenes

 Only seven degrees this morning, but a spectacular winter sunrise. 

I crunched down to check out our bit of riverfront. Something looked "different" from the house when we arrived yesterday.

No wonder. More trees felled by the busy beavers, including the healthy young cottonwood posted with our property sign at the head of the trail. No respect! John salvaged the sign before it turned up on a beaver dam somewhere down the river. If there are any trees left in the spring, I guess we'll find another place to hang it.

Amanda and Tom are working today, so we drove Nova to her job at the clothing boutique in Winthrop. Maya is skiing this afternoon with friends. The kids sure have a great life over here.

And so very grown up. 

Well, here we are in the final hours of 2024. I'm personally having a hard time feeling optimistic about 2025. But then I look at these beautiful young faces, and can still hear our dad saying, "Take one day at a time." 

Goodbye old year

We're making the trek over the snowy mountains today for a belated holiday celebration. The driving conditions look OK. We haven't been to the Twisp house since October, so a very different scene awaits.

The Promise

Remember, the time of year
when the future appears
like a blank sheet of paper
a clean calendar, a new chance.
On thick white snow
You vow fresh footprints
then watch them go
with the wind’s hearty gust.
Fill your glass. Here’s to us. Promises
made to be broken, made to last.

By, Jackie Kay

 

The secret of life

 

"The secret of life is try not to try too hard." 

That's a line from a corny old James Taylor song, but he has a point. 

As I progressed on this embroidery project, I got more obsessed with the stitches, making them smaller and denser (but not necessarily prettier) and basically driving myself crazy. Loosen up! 

Anyway, these little patterns took a couple of years to finish because I only embroider in the winter.  Making a thousand French knots isn't that much fun, but I like hand sewing.

Our friend Julie is an artist on the sewing machine, and she gave us this gorgeous runner for Christmas. 

One of her magnificent full size quilts hangs on the wall in the Twisp house, another generous gift and a prized possession. It's the first and maybe only thing I'd grab before the house floats down the Methow River. Not just beautiful, but useful.

Are you considering any New Year resolutions? Next year I've resolved to get out my sketchbooks and draw more. Nothing gets you out of yourself like a hobby.

Boxing Day

 

I hope you had a merry little Christmas. Ours was quiet but pleasant with phone calls, sweet text messages and some mid-day socializing with Dave, who braved the messy freeway to Seattle. We spent the entire rainy day inside enjoying our gifts, both material and spiritual.

Today is the second day of Christmas and Boxing Day in Great Britain. 

The holiday goes back to the Middle Ages, when the merchant class would fill boxes with leftover food for the less fortunate. Servants traditionally got the day off, because they had to work yesterday.

 

The Twelve Days of Christmas is largely forgotten in the United States, except for that song I don't care to hear for another year.  

This time of winter was once a wild, twelve day period of non-fasting celebration before Lent. In the olden days, the holiday was just getting started on December 25th. After all the anticipation and preparation, it's a shame that Christmas is a one day event in modern times.

But lovely Hanukkah, The Festival of Lights, is just getting started. Enjoy, friends!

Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming

 

A Christmas rose in the garden yesterday-- never mind the black spot. It's going to be a green and wet holiday in Seattle, with heavy snow in the mountains.

We're postponing our Twisp trip until next week when conditions improve (and we can get in the driveway!) This isn't the first or last time, and it's actually nice to spread out the celebrations. Christmas is a season. We're glad to be home tomorrow and my brother will pop by for a visit.

"Lo, how a rose e'er blooming" is an English translation of a heavenly old German carol called "Es is ein ros Entsprungen." 

For Christmas Eve, here's a heavenly performance by Linda Ronstadt, from her "A Merry Little Christmas" album released in 2000. Wishing you peace and joy.

 

Maya's cookie workshop

 

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Whoa, Dutch Baby

 

I made a Dutch Baby for the first time this morning.

It was actually quite simple, considering the recipe came from the NYT cooking section:

Heat the oven to 450 degrees, then melt an obscene amount of butter in a cast iron skillet.

Pour in a batter of eggs, milk, flour and one tablespoon sugar.

Really, that's it. Bake for 20 minutes, all the while praying it won't overflow in your oven.

I cut it up like a pizza and we drizzled raspberry syrup on top. Yes, that is bacon in the background. Tis' the season. 

It was tasty, kind of like a cream puff shell and about as filling. I'll be starving in about an hour.

The seasons, they go round and round

 

 

In pagan times, holly was considered protection against evil, because bad thoughts and naughty spirits got caught up and trapped the thorny branches.

 

The Holly King was a pagan mythical figure representing winter, and he was forever locked in battle with the Oak King.

 

And early tomorrow morning, the fight tips over to spring. The winter solstice is at 1:20 am, Pacific time. Now the slow crawl back to daylight begins, although it will be many weeks until we notice it.

Up here in the dark lands, some of us leave the outdoor lights up through January. By the time we get around to taking them down, signs of spring are stirring in the Northwest. 

The year is winding down fast. Christmas just around the corner. Savor the little moments. 

Snow day In Twisp

 

 

"Today has been cancelled, go back to bed."

 

Not for Maya-- out in the backyard yesterday enjoying the school snow day.

Wordless Wednesday

 

 

The Magpie, by Claude Monet

Spring in December

 

The delicate pink camellia is always an incongruous sight blooming in December. And look at all those buds. 

That towering shrub was a stick when I planted it between the aborvitae trees (also little sticks.) What was I thinking? I'm a short-sighted gardener when it comes to how big things can get. "Thirty years from now" seems an impossibly long time, then all of a sudden, here it is.

Spring in December is not so farfetched in Seattle, and the observant eye will see buds ready to pop open in the next 8 weeks. We haven't had a hard freeze yet, and we're in yet another warm pineapple express rain pattern. Unlike much of the country, winter is green time in western Washington. 

I usually force a few paper white narcissus bulbs in November. They grow fast in the kitchen greenhouse window and bloom around Christmas. The tiny flowers release a highly concentrated smell of spring. 

"Flowers always make people better, happier, more hopeful."

Luther Burbank

Pork magic

 

The magic of pork-- how just time and slow heat transforms such an unappetizing hunk of meat into a bronzed masterpiece. As they would say in England, "bloody lovely." 

That big shoulder roast went in the oven at 9 am yesterday, uncovered, 250 degrees, on a bed of chopped onions, apples and garlic that eventually became a gooey glaze for the mashed potatoes. The delicious smells filled the house until it was finally fork tender, 7 hours later. 

Have you noticed? The Germans (and Pennsylvania Dutch) love pork-- roasted, smoked, boiled or fried. And of course, lots of sausage. It's genetic. 

What to do with the leftovers? Today I will parcel it out in freezer bags. Maybe pork enchiladas, casserole, a quick chili with white beans? Everything but the oink gets used up around here.

John cleaned the greasy kitchen (thank you) while the Sunday night football game droned on. 

The ghastly Kermit the Frog uniforms (actually called Action Green) always bring the Seahawks bad luck on the national stage, and makes those big dudes look silly to boot. And they didn't need much help with that.

 

Biscotti redux

 

Now, that's more like it. Thanks Julie, for the excellent and customizable recipe. These are almond and dark mini chocolate chip, flavored with lots of orange zest. 

Considering a single biscotti at Starbucks costs over $2.50, you soon get spoiled having these (relatively) guilt free cookies around the house.

In other happy news, this is Amanda's beautiful egg haul. The Red Sex Links started laying and living up to the breed's reputation as top producers of brown eggs. Each chicken can lay up to 300 eggs a year. 

Let's see? 300x12 hens=3,600 eggs!  Or 300 dozen!  

"Eggs 4 Sale" sign on the gate?

Happy Friday the 13th

 

Triskaidekaphobia: Fear of the number 13. 

 

Christmas knick knacks

 

 

I like these odd things, even though they don't mean much to anyone else. The retro Santa face came from Walmart about 10 years ago. 

Those cool Santa dudes that look like wood (just plastic) are much older. They came from The Bon, our beloved, long gone local department store. I bought them in the 1980's at an after Christmas 50% off sale. 

And that's the only value of these things-- memories, memories. Seattle was a different place back then, and I loved going downtown for lunch and recreational shopping. Ha. These days, I rarely even go to the mall. Amazon! Guilty as charged. They make it too easy.

Anyway, in a lifetime, a person collects a big pile of Christmas stuff. I went lite this year on the decorations and didn't unpack the collection of nativity sets, or the odds and ends of family heirlooms. We're not expecting company, and it's much less work on both sides of the holiday.

We're just chugging along up here waiting for the The Solstice and The Return of Light. The weekdays are pretty much all the same. The weekends too, for that matter. It's been dry for a Seattle December, but that means cold and dreary fog, especially in the morning. 

The consolations are food, wine, cookies and Christmas lights. Yes, and some football. The Hawks play a big game on Sunday night.

This is a shepherd's pie I made from scratch last night. Lucky John. The ultimate comfort food and we devoured most of it.

Noodle ring

 

You know it's a slow winter morning in Seattle when I consult the Weird and Wacky Holiday Calendar to find a bit of news for the blog.

Yes, December 11 is National Noodle Ring Day. And what is a noodle ring? Basically, it's a bundt cake of baked noodles glued together with eggs. This fancy one has a drenching of cubed ham and mushroom sauce (made with condensed soup, of course.)

Smile of the day

 

 

 

You're never too old for a job. My sister's 17 year old wiener dog "Doodles" still patrols the neighborhood cul-de-sac from his comfy perch in the living room. And he takes the job seriously-- nothing escapes his barking attention. 

 

But like all elderly he feels the cold. He looks like a fat hot dog in a pink bun. (Don't tell him Auntie Sue said that.)

Oh, Christmas trees

The quintessential Methow Valley Christmas tree hunt, complete with friends, dogs and skis. Amanda sent these pictures yesterday.

And children pressed into slavery. Ha!

Nothing compares to a freshly cut Christmas tree--

Meanwhile, a very different tree at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle. We walked though the lobby to admire the decorations on the way to our concert yesterday. 

Once-upon-a-different-lifetime, I worked at a fancy flower shop called "Toppers" in the shopping arcade at this hotel. We also spent the night here after we got married in 1993. And another time, attended a heart breaking memorial service for a friend. 

Christmas is all about nostalgic memories as we age, especially missing the dear ones who are gone.

 And last but not least, our own sweet home tree.