Whew

The bar is set high when you have a professional painter in the family, and you have to be bold to jump in after him. But I painted the entire porch floor and the front steps on Sunday morning.  Maybe not a perfect job, but Tom would be happy to see I didn't splatter any brown splotches on his blue or white trim.  He was a bit worried about that when he left on Saturday, for good reason.

I also realized I should take a picture of this perfect moment of completion, since the porch looks as good as it ever will until the next time we get around to painting it.  That will be several years from now (hopefully I can still crawl around on my knees) when the endless rotation of wood painting comes again to the front. Our little old house is an astonishing amount of work.

The decorative wood caps on the front pillars had fallen apart and on Saturday John found some unusual new ones at Alki Lumber.  He told me to come outside for a surprise, and then asked if I liked them.  Blue glass? What? Are you KIDDING? They are so ultra-cool, I wouldn't be surprised to see them popping up on copycat houses up and down the street. I hope he hammered them on good to prevent sticky fingers.

And now... finally on to more routine chores.
Here's a Monday morning sort of poem from Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac.

Cleaning the Bathroom 

Cleaning the bathroom is humbling and good.
Enamel and glass feel smoother than wood

as the mind, barely thinking, goes passive. Meanwhile
the hand, gliding easily over the tile

or toilet or mirror, finds tangible peace,
in the rhythm of rubbing, a kindly release

and the patience of porcelain fixtures can drain
what's flashy or fancy in favor of plain.

In style unpretentious, demeanor serene,
the bathroom is basic. Its function: to clean.

Phyllis Hoge

Three years old today

Happy birthday, dear Nova.  Your first years went by so fast, all of them packed with wonderful memories. And in just a few weeks your new little brother or sister arrives, so our family will be doubly blessed.


Amanda finishes her difficult week of psychiatric field work in Spokane today and finally gets to head home to Twisp for a happy reunion with Tom and Nova tomorrow.  We're all breathing a sigh of relief she is so close to completing her year long program. Having a toddler in the house this week gave me a new appreciation for the word "busy" and how much work and sacrifice this big accomplishment took on the part of Tom and Amanda.

Tom has been working non-stop all week on the front side of our house, doing his painter's magic turning faded and peeling blue siding into a bright masterpiece.  Yikes. Was the "before" really that bad? The weather is perfect, and the garden is at that final heartbreaking peak of the summer with the dahlias and Oriental lilies in full  bloom.  And we're excited about the next round of visitors arriving next week-- our dear old friends Candi and Roger from Missoula.  I hope the lilies hang on for a few more days so we can show them off!

Fairy gardening

The week is flying by, and in her spare time Nova has been busy with fairy garden chores...

Believe in the Fairies
Who make dreams come true.
Believe in the wonder,
The stars and the moon.
Believe in the magic,
From Fairies above.
They dance on the flowers,
And sing songs of love.
And if you just believe,
And always stay true,
The Fairies will be there,
To watch over you.

Author unknown

Horse friends are the best friends

Yesterday Nova met "Little Dude" the miniature horse. Wow.

Love at first sight.

A nice pat. Can I ride him?

Dolly and her Quarter-horse "Spanky."

Giving "Spanky" a brush in the barn. 

Horses of all sizes doing all sorts of things, an excited kid and distracted grown-ups are not the easiest photo subjects. Good job John on these pictures! We had fun at the barn yesterday. Thanks, everyone.

The only thing cuter...

These little old garden chairs I found at the consignment store yesterday are pretty cute.


The only thing cuter is Nova sitting on them!  Amanda is doing her field work for the nursing program out in Spokane this week, and Tom, Nova and "Roger" are here for a visit.  Now that we have a professional painter captive, we're putting him to work.  While he works, we play-- so we're taking Nova out to see the horses in Snoqualmie this morning.  More pictures soon...

Glad tidings

Seattle broke a record high temperature when it reached 93 degrees at the airport this weekend. It was the first time in two years we finally hit 90. At our house on Sunday afternoon, the thermometer went up to 88 and stuck there.  Still nice and warm. The local TV media had a "heat advisory" going with warnings about being outside. You probably find that kind of cute in Montana and back in Ohio. But the real danger here in hot weather is not staying hydrated but people going crazy and jumping into cold lakes and swift rivers. Lake Washington turned into a solid raft of party boats for Seafair.  Been there...done that.

Except for trips to the grocery store, we were busy at home with chores. We worked together on painting the "garage" and I was enjoying the teamwork feeling until I started in under John's ladder and he decided to quit for the day.  Let's just say I'm a slap-dash painter. We ate some good grilled fish and steak for dinners so the kitchen wouldn't heat up.  And other than the Blue Angels doing their thing at midday, our neighborhood was still and it was nice to be in the eye of the hurricane.

The onshore flow of Pacific air came back last night like switching on the air-conditioning at 2 am.  We'll be in the comfortable 70's again for the rest of the week. Maybe the rest of the month. We probably won't get that hot again for another year! I'm happy about that actually, because the heat threw the Oriental lilies and gladiolas into overdrive bloom, and the flowers would be gone in just a few days instead of weeks. Not to mention the expensive chore of keeping up with daily watering.  The lawns around her are already a politically correct brown, but the pots need to be watered every day.

We have flashy glads blooming now, thanks to that half-off bulb sale at the White Center hardware store.  Some of them grew over five feet tall, and the left-over cannas and begonias I bought at the same time are starting to bloom in pots. I grabbed the gaudiest packages off the rack. The clashing, wild colors would set Monet's teeth on edge, but the pictures looked good on that cold, gray day.

Gladiolus are also known a "sword-lilies" because of the shape of the narrow leaves.  In ancient Rome, a sword was called a gladius and a small sword was called a gladiolus.  The word is also the root of the word gladiator, and in the language of flowers the plant suggests strength of character and remembrance.  In my long-ago florist days, we never liked glads because they were used in stiff formal arrangements for depressing occasions.

"Florist" glads like these will never bloom up to the tip of the stalk like the beautiful homegrown garden varieties. I don't know why that is.