Yesterday was our anniversary, and John spoiled me with two fabulous bouquets, a tiramisu cake from Metropolitan Market and take-out Thai food for dinner.
I'm afraid all he got in return was a card, but hopefully 32 years of decent cooking is just another way to say I love you.
(Yes, that long.)
Have a good weekend. We are enjoying a few days of "Fool's Spring" up here in Seattle.
So long February. If March comes in like a lamb, will it go out like a lion?
Well, you should have seen the "before." Jeiser presser washed the mold and algae off the walkways yesterday. He also did a gentle prune on top of the plum tree, so if there is fruit this year, we have a chance of reaching it with the picker. The lateral fruiting branches are second year growth now, so there's hope.
As for the ugly moss over our heads, Jeiser is coming back next week to brush it off the north side of the roof. Also clean the gutters. He is the renaissance man of outdoor chores, even spreading yards of compost without complaint. (And if he can't do it, he has a cousin who can.)
After the windstorm, we're basking in a few days of calm, sunny weather. Yes, it is still chilly, but creeping ever closer to the vernal equinox and the end of the big dark is here.
Everything is full of promise and this is my favorite time to work outside, that is, when there isn't too much banging next door. Gardening serves as the best natural stress reliever, with the exception of digging invasive bluebells-- the Eighth Labor of Hercules.
Speaking of good moss, look at the lovely patina on that 30-year old pot. I scored $1 primroses at Home Depot yesterday to bridge the gap until annual planting season. Much nicer than rotting geraniums at the front door.
Yesterday is history,
tomorrow is a mystery,
and today is a gift…
that’s why they call it the present.
By Bill Keane
A beautiful and almost spring-like day here in Seattle. My excellent garden guy is coming to pressure wash mold and moss off the walkways and help with some light pruning.
In about 2 weeks, the new deck is scheduled for construction. With February winding down, it feels like life is suddenly coming to life again.
Traffic is a nightmare this morning and too windy and sopping miserable to even step outside. Aren't we lucky we don't have to?
What a night with pelting rain and gusts up to 60 mph, one of the strongest wind storms ever for February. By some miracle, we didn't lose power overnight, but we're not out of the woods yet.
The wind is still gusting about 30 mph and the lights flickering. Fingers crossed, all it takes is one downed tree somewhere in West Seattle and thousands are out of luck.
John is in the kitchen cutting up peppers, onions and garlic for a pot of red bean chili. I'm sure I've mentioned before, we're big fans of Rancho Gordo brand heirloom beans.
Well, first you have to get over sticker shock, then realize how many servings are in that little bag. And how much better they are than dusty-looking bags of grocery store dried beans. Although the sexy lady on the Rancho Gordo label might have something to so with that.
We have tried many, but not all the Gordo varieties. Some are only available in small seasonal batches.
John gave me Steve Sando's "Bean Book" for Christmas. It's beautiful to look at as well as useful with recipes.
Sando is the founder of Rancho Gordo, and has made a name for himself (and a bean fortune) in the food world. He is probably the first to lift the humble bean up to gourmet status.
I woke up at 3 am today, which is pretty typical, but then went back to sleep until almost 7, which is not.
We're in the middle of an atmospheric river event (aka pineapple express) that points the fire hose of rain up from the tropics.
The heavy cloud cover makes everything look thick and grey, and noticeably dimmer, with this particular diffused light quality. In other words, we are waterlogged. Tonight, a windstorm.
And that's the soggy news of the day.
Now that's a deep one from old Willie.
Spring in Seattle is a chilly, damp, gray, drawn-out affair, but compared to most of the country right now, we are warm and very green. From my desk yesterday I watched the fat robins running in and out of the hedge scratching for worms.
The yard is full of excited birds and the reason is simple: it is messy with lichen-covered trees and branches, a mossy untreated lawn filled with insects, and lots of untidy nooks and crannies for birdies to hide out.
Our thoughts go out this morning to John's brother Dan, recovering from a hospital stay. Dan has been a regular blog reader for many years. We hope you soon regain your strength and health!
Today is Cherry Pie Day. Why not? It was always traditional to bake a cherry pie in February for President's Day, in honor of George Washington's honesty. Remember the cherry tree story?
And now we have this person declaring IT IS GOOD TO BE KING from his social media megaphone. Strange times, to put it mildly.
Today is also defrost-that-little-freezer day. It doesn't take long, but quite a chore with much running up and down the stairs with frozen food and hot water and towels to soak up the mess. Fortunately, it only needs to be done a couple times a year.
We had an absolutely jaw-dropping sunset last night. Even obscured as it is with poles, buildings and wires, I love our west view from the living room and front porch. These pictures were on the West Seattle blog this morning, taken by someone down on Alki beach.
A picture of Maya before her first middle school dance last week. She and her friends had a blast. Oh boy, here we go.
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Doesn't her face resemble this beautiful Tuscan girl? But this girl doesn't look like she's going to a dance anytime soon! It was painted by William Holman Hunt in 1869.
Let's just call it spring. It hit 50 degrees yesterday which felt balmy after the long freezing spell. The garden was alive with excited birds. There was a brief lull in the construction projects surrounding us, so it was downright peaceful in the yard.
Late February is that sweet spot when the alliums, tulips and hyacinths are poking up, but the Scilla have not shown their invasive heads. This is my favorite time to putter around in the yard, thinking about the months of enjoyment (and work) to come.
The natural look of moss and lichen on old surfaces is beautiful, but even I have my limits. We will soon have a fancy new composite deck, no doubt making the rest of the place look more shabby than charming.
In preparation for our new look, I'm cleaning out the yard and shed and made a big pile of stuff that no longer "sparks joy." This will go out on the sidewalk with a free sign for people to carry away.
Spread the wabi-sabi wealth.
Spring Follows Winter Once More
Lying here in the tall grass
Where it’s so soft
Is this what it is to go home?
Into the earth
Of worms and black smells
With a larch tree gathering sunlight
In the spring afternoon
And the gates of Paradise open just enough
To let out
A flock of geese.
Tom Hennen
Lounging by the wood stove with your personal cat pillow? That's a pretty good life for Nica on a cold winter day in Twisp. Amanda's cats are supposedly on a diet, but Millie still looks plump and soft as down. Who wants a skinny, flat pillow?
In Seattle we have switched over from unseasonably cold and dry to seasonably warm and wet, a welcome change.
We were busy doing inside chores this weekend. John set up a new stereo receiver and fiddled with light bulbs, a never-ending job around here. I organized tax documents for the accountant, which always gives me a peculiar IRS headache.
We've been re-watching the 2015 "Wolf Hall" in preparation for the new PBS series which starts in March. A complicated story to say the least, it is somewhat easier to follow the second time around.
Watching a historical drama set in the time of Henry VIII strikes you how nothing in human nature has changed, except now we have the technology to make it all happen faster and stupider.
History repeats the old story of fawning ambition, greed and revenge. Riding fine horses instead of limousines, the rich and powerful are exactly the same.
Speaking of beavers, wonder what those critters have been up to along our riverfront this winter. No good, probably.
Funny old cards bring back memories of our grade school parties, with a sticky cupcake on a napkin and the decorated cardboard mailbox stuffed full of tiny valentines. The teacher always choose a lucky boy to be the mailman, who importantly delivered them around to each desk. Simple times, simple pleasures.
We woke up to a dusting of snow, like frosting on the cars. Soon the rain returns and this exceptionally long cold streak is over. Spring is just around the corner in Seattle.
No special plans for the day, although I hope to score some snow crab at Safeway for dinner. If not crab, steak.
The new mattress was delivered yesterday. It is considerably higher than the old one, so we can't even sit on the edge of the bed to put on our slippers. We are literally "climbing into" bed. John can lower the bed frame, although it might be harder getting the bottom sheet on.
Our worn old mattress had two cozy body grooves, which kept us in our respective places. This new one has a luxurious, smooth, flat surface. I thought John was trespassing on my side all night, but according to him, I was the one hogging the middle. Anyway, maybe I was afraid of going off the edge.
That said, I'm sure we'll like it, once we break it in some. Or vice versa.
I ate (almost) all of that giant basin of pho yesterday. It was packed with fresh vegetables in a delicious broth-- no guilt. A perfect lunch for a cold, cold day.
This is at a newly remodeled place called Pho-S. In Seattle, pho restaurants have a reputation for being dirty, with sticky condiment containers and soup splashed walls. The walk to the restroom past the kitchen can be pretty terrifying! But Pho-S was sparkling clean, and the service fast and pleasant.
After lunch, we went mattress shopping at Westwood Village, where we bought one over 10 years ago. Naturally, things have changed. Did you know most mattresses are black now? And we once purchased nice used cars for less.
We flopped down on many, although I find it difficult pretending I'm sleeping with a salesman hovering about. (John doesn't have that problem.)
Anyway, through the process of elimination we settled on a Beautyrest firm pillow top, which was a middle-of-the-line choice. It gets delivered this very morning, so that's exciting.
Or better yet, just stay in bed in your flannel granny gown.
Very cold here, and even colder on the other side of the mountains where temps will be below zero at night. I hope to get over to Twisp soon, but not this week.
This is also National Football Hangover Day and 22.5 million people across the United States intend to miss work following the big game. That's a 40% increase from last year. For what it's worth.
That's a cool poster from 1990. This will be the 8th Superbowl in party town New Orleans.
More often than not, we have an afternoon concert on Superbowl Sunday, but not this year. I hope that team that always wins not wins for a change. But I don't really care.
When the Seahawks pooped out early, I started rooting for the Buffalo Bills. We only spent 2 nights in that rabid football town, but it rubbed off on me, maybe lubricated by all those Buffalo wings. But you gotta love the Bill's fans with their snow shovels. (Listen to me, yakking on about football.)
I'm on a mission to get my little freezer used down so I can finally defrost it. On Sunday we're having a small turkey that I bought after the holidays.
Our neighbors from the Valley are in Seattle this weekend, and we're meeting at the art museum tomorrow morning. So a nice weekend shaping up.
Hope you have a good one.
There's a section on techno and futuristic drawing which doesn't interest me in the slightest, but I'm looking forward to the landscape and animal lessons. Realism isn't his thing, but he can draw anything and make it look easy.
The most useful part has just been reviving a drawing habit. The hardest part is staring at the blank sheet and getting started.
I did that mountain sketch yesterday in about a half hour, and when I stepped away, the "rock" in the foreground looked like a giant sleeping (or dead) beaver! John suggested I add some downed cottonwoods, just like Twisp. Rocks and trees, by the way, are really difficult.
Anyway, I'm trying to do one sketch a day and not take myself too seriously. It should be fun.
Guess what? Snowing again in Seattle this morning. I have a dentist appointment 2 blocks away (providing my hygienist can get to work.) By afternoon, we should be done with the snow, but bitter cold. This afternoon I might brave going to ukulele group on the heated patio. It's pizza night.
It's been a long winter. February is the month when we turn the corner to spring. Not this year.
We have to cheer ourselves up in these strange times. Amanda's been playing around with some AI app that turns photos into cartoons.
And yes, we look like a goofy Nana and Grandpa from some cartoon movie! It gave me a toothpick neck and John generously more hair. Ha ha.
Most of us had our share of canned soup growing up. The cooks of the 50's and 60's were seriously into convenience foods. (Unlike now, ha ha.)
Crazy as that sounds, some restaurants had canned soup displays. The waitress would warm the contents in a little pan or beaker then pour it into a bowl for the customer.
I remember feeling important doing that as a 15-year-old waitress at the Thunderbird Cafe in Florissant, Colorado. Mom ran the Thunderbird for a while, and she was the short order cook.
Anyway, we make lots of soup in this house, especially in the winter. A favorite is what we call taco soup, made with leftover seasoned taco meat simmered in (canned) beef broth with (canned) spicy tomatoes, whatever fresh vegetables and maybe beans. John would disagree, but I think the best soup is thrown together and never quite the same twice.
Our weather guru says we're headed into a "historically long" stretch of frigid weather. Some people find cold weather energizing; I find it hard to get out of bed.
There was something for everyone in the weather yesterday. The morning started out with big wet snowflakes, followed by few hours of bright sun, and in late afternoon, bands of snow squalls blowing up our street off Puget Sound. In some places, thunder snow.
Not much snow is expected in Seattle, but icy cold temperatures for the next week. I don't have to leave West Seattle for anything, and both of us glad our commuting days are over.
Browsing through old snow pictures on the blog, it's hard to believe this was Maya and Nova "only" ten years ago.
Grandchildren
by Olivia Stiffler
They
disappear with friends
near age 11. We lose them
to baseball and tennis, garage
bands, slumber parties, stages
where they rehearse for the future,
ripen in a tangle of love knots.
With our artificial knees and hips
we move into the back seats
of their lives, obscure as dust
behind our wrinkles, and sigh
as we add the loss of them
to our growing list of the missing.
Sometimes they come back,
carting memories of sugar cookies
and
sandy beaches, memories of how
we sided with them in their wars
with parents, sided with them
even as they slid out of our laps
into the arms of others.
Sometimes they come back
and hold onto our hands
as if they were the thin strings
of helium balloons
about to drift off.
