Verbosity galore

 

I'm finally 3/4 of the way through this dense tome and at this rate, maybe I'll finish by fall. "The Magic Mountain" is not exactly light summer reading. What was I thinking?

The novel takes place in a tuberculosis sanatorium in Davos Switzerland. There isn't much to the 1,000 page story except a young man goes to visit his ailing cousin, then becomes convinced he is also sick and winds up staying in that surreal and creepy world for 7 years. 

The sanatorium is a closed ecosystem obsessed with disease and death, becoming “ a mirror for doomed European society” before WW1. A single day can run whole chapters, and Thomas Mann packs the pages with dense German philosophy.  Eeek. 

I read this book back in my English major days and found it fascinating. But my brain worked better then and I had more attention span, not to mention, less distractions while laying around with a heavy book on my stomach. Well, I get A for effort. 

It's another stick-close-to-home weekend with Sea Fair in full swing mucking up the traffic. It should be quiet in our neighborhood with everyone elsewhere. 

Eastern Washington is suffering right now under awful smoke, but so far we've escaped that scourge. Just one beautiful day after the other in Seattle. Perhaps a touch of rain tomorrow. 

Have a good one.  

  

And this too shall pass

 

Roma tomatoes. 

Gladiolas. 

 So-so grocery store peaches for vanilla ice cream tonight.

 

 

The neglected blue hummingbird feeder transformed into a chickadee water station. They love it. 

(A brilliant idea, if I don't say so myself.)

Stargazer lilies in full bloom. 

 Simple and pretty Gaillardia (Indian Blanket.) 

And a little nudge saying nothing lasts forever-- a snazzy pair of rain boots ordered from Costco. 

"Your days are numbered. Use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. If you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it."

Marcus Aurelius
 

And so it goes

 

They tore down an old bungalow just down the street from us, and today they started the excavation, making a big racket and dust. 

The soil in West Seattle is sandy and dry as a desert! This is why, in an major earthquake, we would have something nasty going on called "liquification." But that's another story.

As I walked by, he was cheerfully ripping out a blooming hydrangea by the roots and a rather fine Japanese maple. A sad sight dangling from the bulldozer. A good job for little boys with toys who never grow up. 

One more urban patch of bird and insect habitat bites the dust, literally. 

The plan is to squeeze three tall townhouses on that tiny lot. The street in front of our house will soon be a staging area for construction deliveries over the next months. You wouldn't believe the huge trucks they maneuver down the narrow alleys. 

So the summer of relative quiet is over. And as always, our most beautiful season is going too fast. The Blue Angels just arrived in town for Sea Fair Weekend, screaming overhead when you least expect it. People find it thrilling, and I used to, but I'm getting old and crabby. Especially when it comes to our tax dollars burning up the sky.

Anyway, I love August and it is almost here. Summer's last stand and always a bittersweet month. It has a lovely quality that feels heavy and light at the same time. Soon school starts, vacations wind down and fall ramps up. Most people think of autumn as the beginning of the new year. 

Follow the directions

 

 

Not to brag, but this was the best of many pizzas I've made with the NYT simple pizza dough recipe. 

What is the secret? Follow the directions (duh) to mix the dough a day ahead, then let it slow rise in the fridge. This is the same method that gives that wonderful crusty texture in homemade bread. 

No oily salty pepperoni, just vegetables and a mix of provolone and mozzarella. Who says pizza can't be healthy? And for a change, we made it through meatless Monday yesterday with leftover pizza for lunch and tofu stir fry for dinner. 

Other than occasional Thai take out (which I can't make at home) we almost never go out to eat anymore. One reason:

"Washington ranks as the most expensive state for dining out, with Seattle rivaling or exceeding costs in places like New York City."

The restaurant sticker shock is worse for people who remember when a bowl of soup was $5 not $20. And not that long ago. 

I don't mind cooking and John doesn't mind cleaning up the kitchen, so it works out pretty well.  

 

The many colors

 

My friend Tim posted a picture on Instagram of his gorgeous hydrangea blooming in several colors at once, almost like this one in our yard. 

Apparently it happens because soil acidity is rarely uniform across a garden bed, and the plant's roots sit in different areas picking up different ph levels. 

For some reason, our hydrangeas are more beautiful than ever. Two years ago, I pruned them almost to the ground and they did nothing last summer. Now they forgave me. 

Hydrangeas actually bloom best left alone with little or no pruning, but gardeners do like to fuss with them.

For example. I passed by this one many times on my old 2 mile pandemic loop walk. On the same walk recently, it was exactly the same, blooming its heart out over the sidewalk. The yard still neglected and never pruned, watered or dead headed-- so there you go. 

Well, I don't have much news. A heavy cloud is over Seattle after the shooting last night at the Bite of Seattle festival.

Really? What will it take? We ask ourselves again and again but nothing changes. 
 

Supersweet 100

 

 

More like Supersweet "500." The plant is covered with fruit. 

After a few days of hot weather, four months of watering and fertilizing suddenly pays off. This is a good variety to remember for next year. They have that sweet crunchy pop when you bite into them and nothing compares to a warm cherry tomato off the vine. 

Not to mention, the first simple tomato salad of the summer. 

Believe it not, we eat lots of iceberg lettuce salad in this house, and you gotta have iceberg for tacos. 

Iceberg has become rather unappetizing for the time being. It's unnerving how something so ubiquitous could make you deathly sick for weeks. 

We had Italian pasta last night that Amanda brought from Italy. I usually buy whole wheat pasta so this white orecchiette was a nice change. I cooked the whole bag and will do something with the leftovers this weekend.

Yes, the weekend, here again. A slight chance of showers and a high of 75.  So pleasant. 

 My sister Marji in Las Vegas sent this photo yesterday: 124 degrees on her patio in the sun. So dangerous. 

 

The locals down there are smart as desert rats. The tourists, maybe not so much.

 

Feast or famine

 

 

Our poor old abused plum tree is just dripping with fruit, and many are on low hanging branches right in the yard, not over the outside sidewalk. John doesn't like dodging branches on his way to the recycle but too bad. He likes making and eating chutney and if it stays this warm, we can pick in a week or so. 

Last year, there were almost none! Who knows with that fickle tree? The most common reason is poor bloom time weather (cold rainy days) or the lack of a cross-pollinator nearby. I happen to know there is another Italian plum tree living just across the street. (W. please tell B. not to ever chop it down.)

Anyway, time to think about canning, especially since I didn't do much last year. We are low on good plum chutney. I am a slapdash cook but a fussy canner. Everything has to be super clean and exact directions followed for processing, so the jars are still good two years later. In fact, the chutney mellows over time and gets even better. 

Also looks like a bumper year for tomatoes. The big dark pots bake in hot sun along the side of the house, a perfect spot for ripening. 

 

For some reason, I've enjoyed the yard more than ever this year, and trying to embrace all the work with more pleasure than annoyance. We should not take for granted how long we can do these things. As the saying goes:

"Everything is borrowed." 

 

 

  

 

1374?

 

That is a screenshot from the Purple Air app yesterday. Check out the gob-smacking number "1374" on the air quality index.

To put it in perspective, the standard index tops out at 500, and any number above this (such as 700 or 800) indicates catastrophic pollution. 

The town of Nespelum on the Colville Reservation in northeastern Washington, is roughly 90 miles from Twisp. 

 

This is one of the poorest areas of the state, and now that little town (above) is surrounded by a 65,000 acre fire. As often happens, the people who can least afford it lose everything. 

 

We woke up to a red and orange sunrise, but our air quality is still OK here in Seattle. It's going to be hot (for us) today close to 90 degrees. 

That's about all the news. Oh yes, some person dumped a big pile of junk in front of our hedge the other night. Our neighbor and I have reported illegal dumping to the city, but that can take days until they get around to cleaning it up. In the meantime, I hope people don't think the ones who live here did such a disgusting thing. 

Meaningful forgetfulness

 

 

Now that is one happy dawg face after a dip in the Methow River and a picnic with her long lost family.

 

Our animals, bless them, don't need yoga or mindfulness practice to relax. They are always in the present moment and for Nica, that sad 3 week separation ended the moment her family came home and life went on just as before. 

Humans minds are usually planning for the future or ruminating about the past. Yes, we can "practice" mindfulness, but sitting on a cushion trying to empty your mind has the opposite effect for some of us. "Try not to imagine a pink elephant" and all that. 

There was an article in  the NYT this week about the resurgence of granny crafts like quilting. Anne Kirketerp, a Danish psychologist, wrote a book called “Craft Psychology,” and she calls this phenomenon "meaningful self-forgetfulness." She says: 

“When we create something that requires full attention, the part of our brain called ‘default mode network’ is diminished,” Dr. Kirketerp said. “The constant inner noise or negative ruminating thoughts are absent.”

Hand embroidery is my go-to craft at the moment, because it doesn't require set up like painting or sewing. And I can pick it up for just a few minutes at a time. I guess people will get granny embroidered tea towels for Christmas.

What glorious summer days we're having in Seattle. I'm enjoying every moment of this fine weather. (Twisp is hot and smoky at the moment.)

Our yard is filled with birds chirping from morning to night. The quiet nesting period is over, and this is called the post-breeding surge, when the population doubles or triples with family groups foraging for food. The chickadees and bushtits love that olive tree. I spray it with the hose, then sit and watch them take showers in the drops. Who needs a meditation cushion?

 

Vindow Viper

 

That old joke/story kept coming to mind yesterday. We've never had the outdoor windows professionally cleaned. 

Yes, one more thing I've always done myself, in recent years, with a Windex hose attachment so I don't have to drag around a ladder. That leaves much to be desired, especially the top of the kitchen greenhouse window, which stays filthy no matter how much you squirt it. 

Nice and clean! 

I don't usually fall for front door solicitations from companies who are "working in the neighborhood" and can give me a "deal," but I liked the guy for some reason, and this time it worked out. His Revive Pro Company also cleans house exteriors and puts up Christmas lights, among other things. Maybe we will use them again. 

They use a brush and cleaning solution that dries (almost) streak and spot free-- cheaper and quicker than a hand squeegee job. They were done in under an hour.

Nothing scary about that. 

 

To my blog family

 

Petrichor

 

"Petrichor" is that fresh, earthy scent when rain falls on dry ground. Seattle might finally get wet this morning. 

We've only had a trace of rain (0.06 to be exact) so far this month. I water the flower beds by hand almost daily, which is a chore. The grass went brown and dormant weeks ago. Very few people irrigate lawns in this neighborhood, mostly because of the expense. 

Seattle Public Utilities charges homeowners on both ends for water: what comes in through the street meter and then out the sewer (which of course is not metered.) That means you pay the sewer charge for drinking water dumped on the ground. What a racket. 

We see more of those plastic lawns now in West Seattle, especially with the new construction. I get it, but just give me brown in the summer. In the winter, the grass turns green as Ireland again.

I'm happy to report the family is safely back on the Carlton farm.

They were met by one ecstatic dog and two indifferent cats. The house-sitters took good care of their place, although Amanda said the poultry flock looks slightly diminished. A mystery, but eagles in the area sometimes help themselves to a nice chicken dinner. 

A peaceful morning on the farm. All is well.  

 

Morning summer light

  

There's nothing more beautiful than early morning light-- especially shining on these blooming trumpet lilies. 

In the Northwest, we wake up to crisp, cool air. And yes, sometimes that heavy marine layer of grey clouds, but there's no doubt, Seattle has some of the best summer weather in the country.

Yesterday at the Coliseum in Rome, a different light-- the intense brilliance of Italian sky on a blistering hot morning. 

The families are on their way home now, with a lifetime of memories for the kids to someday share with their kids.  

But frankly, this makes me thankful having seen some of these places back in the 1970's, when we just strolled into St. Peter's Basilica with a baby in a backpack (Amanda.) 

A Cardinal patted her on the head, and we caught a glimpse of il Papa walking by. Talk about unforgettable. 

Simple pastimes

 

It took me about a year to finish these embroideries on dishcloths. (Well, I do have a life.)

Speaking of stichery, the 900 year old Bayeux Tapestry was in the news this week, returned to the UK under cover of darkness in a high-tech, climate-controlled container. It will be on temporary display at the British Museum. 

The work is so unique because it gives a rare visual of the Norman Conquest and medieval life, showing castles, ships, warfare, clothing, food and furniture. 

 

The tapestry is 230 feet long! That amazing texture was achieved with just 4 basic stitches every stitcher knows: stem, chain, split, and couching stitch. Historians say it was likely created by English women, whose needlework was admired throughout Europe.

Speaking of Europe, the travelers return to Seattle tomorrow night. Rome has been hot and crowded, but they've still managed to see the major sites: Vatican, Colosseum, Forum, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountains, etc. Good for them.  

Zone 9

 

 

I never dreamed of growing gardenias in our zone, until I saw the neighbor's blooming patio pots and jealousy reared its ugly head. 

Our neighbors are frequently down in Portland visiting their daughter, and they brought me a gardenia (above) from Versailles Garden which looks like a fancy place. What a nice gift.  

Typical gardenias need sweltering heat to bloom, but there are several newish varieties bred for the coastal Northwest, including "Gardenia jasminoides Frostproof" (above) which is considered one of the best for our cool and damp climate.

The smell is so evocative. One sniff and I'm 15 again, wearing the corsage on this eyelet dress I sewed myself.  Mom took the picture before my prom date arrived with the box. Now kids just meet up, but boys always came to the front door in those days.   

 

A gardenia was an old fashioned choice for him in the 1960's, when orchids were considered exotic and special. But that corsage was unforgettable because of the scent. 

The weekend is here with the annual Summer Fest going on at the West Seattle Junction. Every year it gets bigger, louder, and more crowded. I walked down there this morning to search for sidewalk sale bargains as usual, but there isn't much of interest for us anymore. Especially not the food. 

Well. The family is now in Rome sightseeing until Tuesday, when they fly back to Seattle on the Alaska Airlines non-stop flight. Nice. What an incredible number of experiences they've packed into 3 weeks. But I'm sensing they're ready to be back on the Carlton farm. 

The contrary ones

 

I've tried growing calla lilies in different parts of the garden, but they are finicky things. Who knows why, but this yellow one loves this particular spot. 

It wasn't even nursery stock, but a small florist pot John gave me years ago for some occasion and I randomly stuck it in the ground. Slowly but surely, it thrived.  What a pretty sight glowing in the bright sun.

Speaking of that, we probably have the best weather in the country now (contrarians as usual.) The sun is slow to break through the morning clouds, but the afternoons are in the low 70's perfect room temperature.

John has taken on a carpentry project to replace decorative lattice chewed up by critters. He is a good handyman, but would much rather be in the basement fiddling with knives. 

I've lost track of how many trips to Home Depot. It should be bear proof by the time he's done. 

 

He's not happy about it-- not so much the job, but the lack of a workshop. He has to pull out the table saw and tools each day. Carpentry is a real drag without a wood workshop. 

I told him at least he has a "pretty" place to work-- which fell on deaf ears. 

 

Clematis gone feral

How pretty is that? The clematis vine decided to climb up the olive tree this year. 

Well, for those of us living vicariously, here's a few more photos sent this morning from Amanda in Puglia. 

 

 

A long awaited beach day, and they had plenty of company at this beautiful, fancy town. 

The aperol spritzer vendor on the beach. La bella vita, indeed. 

 

 

And a visit to the most famous tourist attraction in Puglia-- the UNESCO Trulli of Alberobello.  Amanda said hot and crowded, but a must see. 

 

 

 

 

Southern Italy is certainly a feast for all the senses...

 

 

 

 

Last but not least, our glowing girls.