Where's the rain?

I'm feeling cheated-- it was supposed to rain yesterday, but we didn't get a single drop, at least not in Seattle. I had plans to drive out to North Bend to see my friend Dolly's new horse, but put it off because of the weather.

Anyway, I had plenty at home to keep me busy.  A trip to Costco this time of year usually leads to a bag of impulse bulbs, a bargain too good to pass up. But then, of course, you have 50 tulips bulbs on your hands. It was an awful chore yesterday, because the ground is so dry each hole I dug collapsed like a miniature sand pit.

Anyway, I did a quick sloppy job of it and they're in the ground for better or worse.  All they need now is water. Tulips are not too fussy, but it's better to plant the bulbs while they're still fresh and plump.

Speaking of plump, I picked the rest of the low-hanging fruit, the best of the best, and enough to can 5 pints of plum halves in a light syrup.  Good for topping my yogurt or cottage cheese this winter.  The plum tree is probably 20 feet tall now, so there was no way to safely get the ones at the top.  Now they're rotting and plopping down to the ground, getting caught in the soles of my shoes like you-know-what when I take out the compost.

It looks like a pleasant Labor weekend, with just a chance of rain again on Monday (promises, promises.) Seattle has sweltered through five "hotter-than-normal" summers in a row. July was the hottest on record and August is looking like it could finish in the Top 10.  But we've had relief in the last few days with a touch of fall in the air.

Soon the school buses will be roaring by the house, and harried parents dropping their kids off and picking them up in the afternoon. Our days of easy street parking are over for another 9 months. Few kids actually walk to school these days, I suppose it's considered too dangerous, even neglectful to let them do that alone.

Today is a big day for Maya. Amanda said she spends the morning at "Kinder Camp" at the school in Winthrop. She starts all day kindergarten and Nova, if you can believe it, is in 4th grade this year. Ready or not, off they go...

Idioms of the day

When pigs fly...

The idiom apparently comes from an old Scottish proverb, meaning the unlikeness of some event happening.  

It's a slow news week in Seattle, other than an old mine that was discovered floating in Puget Sound near the Kitsap Naval Base.  Mines dating back to World War II are known to still be out there. Or who knows? This one might have made its way from across the Pacific over the decades.  Brave divers attached a tow line around it, and the Navy towed it off to a safe place tried to detonated it. It was a dud.  

A tempest in a teacup...

 Means a small event that has been exaggerated out of proportion.

Perfect in the dew

Late summer is finally the season of dahlias, when those six months of staking and fussing pay off.  This is our new "Spartacus Burgundy Gold" seen from the bedroom window.  My only complaint is the blooms seem a bit skimpy on the gold flecks, not quite as advertised on eBay, but still a spectacular looking thing.  That plush burgundy color is fit for a king. Or queen.

My neighbor Wendy grows big dahlias, but most people in this neighborhood don't go to the trouble anymore. What a shame. You once saw carefully tended dahlia beds on almost every block, often indicating the residence of an elderly couple with time on their hands. 

With each day, we lose several more minutes of daylight. The night are cool, the mornings dark and damp, the sun at midday noticeably weaker.  It might finally rain tomorrow. I'll pick the last of the plums and tomatoes this weekend.

To the Light of September
by W.S. Merwin

When you are already here

you appear to be only

a name that tells of you

whether you are present or not

and for now it seems as though

you are still summer

still the high familiar

endless summer

yet with a glint

of bronze in the chill mornings

and the late yellow petals

of the mullein fluttering

on the stalks that lean

over their broken

shadows across the cracked ground

but they all know

that you have come

the seed heads of the sage

the whispering birds

with nowhere to hide you

to keep you for later

you

who fly with them

you who are neither

before nor after

you who arrive

with blue plums

that have fallen through the night

perfect in the dew

Waikiki?

Believe it or not, this is the central Oregon coast, where the weather was nicer than Hawaii this past weekend. The kids met up with Tom's family for a big reunion at a rented beach house.

Surfing lessons from Tom's adopted sister, Linda, who really does live in Hawaii. Can you tell?

She also gave the kids cooking and sushi-making lessons. This looks like a traditional Hawaiian breakfast:  Spam, eggs and rice. That's Nova on the left paying rapt attention, next to her cousin Victor, looking slightly less than thrilled spending the weekend with his three little girl cousins. 

Beach bum Nova

Beach bum Maya

And what's with the blue and red hair?  I suspect the fun loving Aunt Linda was behind this.  Amanda says "temporary." 

The relaxed looking parents and Nica.

This is just to say...

The plum tree delivered in the end, despite the aphid infestation and drought.  Our neighbor also shared some from their tree, so I had plenty to can 14 jars chutney and make the annual plum kuchen. I'm a lazy baker, and this is the simplest cake batter-- nothing but butter, flour, sugar, eggs and flavoring beat up all at once and spread in a tart pan.  You could top it (as the Germans do) with just about any kind of fresh fruit in season. I've sure I've posted the recipe on the blog in the past.  Ditto my favorite plum poem, that has apparently now become a Twitter meme.


 This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

William Carlos Williams
1883-1963

Good reading weather

Jim Harrison, 1937-2016

I love it when I stumble on a famous author I've never read. I picked up "The English Major" on the bargain cart outside my used book store, and now wonder how I managed to miss Jim Harrison all these years?  He was best known for the 1980 novella "Legends of the Fall," made into a movie starring Brad Pitt.

Quite a character himself, Harrison wrote beautifully about nature, food, fishing, teaching, farming and travel.  "The English Major" was one of his last books, about a 60-something protagonist, on a road trip across America on a late life mission to rename all the states and state birds.   The book has everything you want in a novel.  (Dave, I'll send your way.)

Sarah Waters is very different. Again, I found her book "The Paying Guests" on the bargain table. She's a Welsh author, known for her Gothic novels set in Victorian society.  She creates great twisting plots and characters, like a modern day Dickens.  I'm reading "Fingersmith" and can't put it down.  Oh, boy! It was made into a BBC mini series and I just put the DVD on our Netflix queue.

Good reading weather for this weekend.  High temperatures only in the 60's, cloudy skies and even the slightest chance of rain. Our air quality has finally returned to normal.  We don't have much planned for the weekend, other than looking forward to meeting friends for dim sum on Sunday morning.