Embracing the senior

West Seattle Senior Center

Stop n' Shop Thrift Store

I've noticed on receipts lately that I get a senior discount without being asked.  Hum. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say.  But it's a little disconcerting that my age dominates first impressions now.  It's funny, because I don't feel much different than I did 20 years ago. Then I catch a passing glimpse of my white-haired reflection.

In America, we have so many cruel stereotypes about old people: they're slow, feeble, unattractive, easily confused. And if you're a woman, most of the time you're just invisible. The joke goes that an old lady can go into a store and shop lift, since no one notices she's there.

In France, I was always addressed as "Madame." It was either a kindly "Madame" or a snooty "Madame," but at least it sounded respectful and dignified.  The American equivalent is "Ma'am," which I seldom hear.  People sometimes call me "Miss" and I don't take offense, because they're trying to being polite.

But if you really want to tick me off, call me "young lady." This is usually younger men at cash registers who think they're being cute. I didn't like being called a "young lady" when I was 10, and I really don't like it now.  It is so condescending, might as well just come out and say old bag.

My goodness, how cranky I sound! Another characteristic of old age. It's funny though, the Senior Center is one place I don't feel old.  Maybe because everyone is and no one cares or notices. It's also a bustling, energetic place with all kinds of activities, like my weekly ukulele group.

I've been volunteering on and off at the Southwest Seattle Historical Society for the last couple of years. After I gave them some recommendations for records management, I decided it's up to their board to go forward (or not) with the plan.

I applied for a new volunteer gig at the West Seattle Senior Center, and they seem happy to have me.   There might be some archives work later, but I'm starting as cashier at the Stop n' Shop Thrift Store.  It's a busy and social place, I browse there all the time, so I'm looking forward to it. Today I'll be using a cash register, for the first time since I was a waitress back in the 1970's.  I'll let you know how fast the senior brain can learn something totally new.

Wish me luck.

High Tea Treats baking class

First, the difference between "high" and "low" tea, which are often confused. Technically, our class should have been called "low tea treats." Of course, that doesn't sound nearly as elegant!

Sweet, dainty finger foods eaten around 4 pm were meant to tide the lazy upper class over until dinner at 8 pm. Afternoon tea was enjoyed at leisure on low tables with comfortable chairs, hence the name "low tea."

High tea on the other hand was a working class family supper with hearty dishes like potatoes, beans and meat. High tea time was around 5 pm, when people came home from work.  Sound familiar? High tea was named for the high dining table where supper was eaten.

OK, now that's out of the way.  Here's the ambitious menu for our "High-Low Tea" baking class on Saturday, the recipes all containing copious amounts of butter and heavy cream.
Now that's high class.

Dark Chocolate Stout Bundt Cake
Flaky Scones
Lemon Curd
Cultured Butter
Fruit Compote
Whipped Cream

Our instructor works for Fran's Chocolates so she knew her stuff when it came to chocolate cake.

The apprentice melts the chocolate.

And painstakingly prepares the baking pans.

Very nice, very rich.

It seems every class has an expert (on something.)

On to the scones. 

I'm a slap dash cook, so doing things precisely is always a novel experience. 

Other people are much better at following exact instructions.

Ready to bake...they look flat, but puff up nicely.

And ready to eat. Yum.

Whipping 2 quarts of heavy cultured cream eventually and magically transforms into homemade butter. 

Finally, quite a delicious (and tricky) lemon curd made from scratch, with 10 lemons and yet another cup of butter.

And for us lower classes who eat our supper at 5pm, this was the 4 pm appetite-spoiling low tea treat when class was finished. It was fun!

Back to routines

I had a nice Mother's Day weekend, although seems like much of it was spent catching up on laundry.

Oh yes, we also had the "High Tea Treats" baking class Saturday afternoon at the community college. (I took pictures, more on that later.)

It was so warm in Seattle last week, the garden just exploded. I'm sure the compost has something to do with it. Fortunately my neighbor watered generously.  We supposed to get some rain this week which we really need.  I'm getting all the dead spring foliage slowly cut back-- the changing of the guard.

It was nice coming home on a Friday instead of a rushed Sunday afternoon.  Air travel might be fast and convenient, but it sure takes the starch out of a person.

I loved my Mother's Day presents from John. Nothing like the sight of new, sharp, clean pruners. They won't look that way for long.  All that deadheading this summer, and everything that comes up gets cut back again and hauled out in the fall. Ugh.  But who wants to think about that now?

We had steak, baked potatoes and lemon cake from Metropolitan Market Mother's Day dinner.  After all that restaurant food and take-out, it feels good eating plain old home-cooked food at our regular weird times: breakfast 6 am, lunch 11, dinner 5.

Seeing Amanda and the girls is the only thing that would have made the weekend perfect. They were on a multi-family camp-out at Banks Lake in central Washington.  This is an Mother's Day tradition for the group of close friends, and Amanda and Tom have been gong since Nova was a tiny baby. So many big kids now!  Looks like fun.
 

The hard-working Moms...

Mother's Day Memo

"Mother's Day Memo"
Remembering Ida
Poem by Anita Pulier

Breathe in her scent.
Thumb through food-stained cookbooks,
touch her buttery fingerprints.
 
Remove little notes
on more garlic or less wine,
place them in your jewelry box, 

safeguard her secrets
it’s time to unravel
Mom’s clues.

Bow your head to
unique holiday offers
of sensory overload. 

Recall family dinners crowded
around an orange banquette
curving around a Formica table,

kitchen walls
strewn with flowered wallpaper
insisting on cheer. 

Allow a moment to grieve
the loss of unconditional love. 

Pour a nice cup of tea,
open the Times online,
place the cursor
on the world you live in now.

Parting shots

Andalusian Court-- we hope to return.


My deluxe blogging spot.

Palm Springs Village Fest, the weekly Thursday night street fair. Fun!

Free advice from the street Rabbi.

Desert Bird of Paradise flower.

"Tank" at the Moorten Botanical Garden.

 The Palm Springs Art Museum Sculpture Garden in Palm Desert.

Pina Colada, no explanation necessary.

And a final indulgent breakfast at Spencer's.  We're headed north to Seattle later today. 

The windmills of your mind

The Palm Springs windmill tour on a very windy day. 

About 35 MPH gusts...

Including the best date shake in the Coachella Valley...