Slow morning

 

Sorry early morning blog followers, no big news today. I got the pneumonia vaccine yesterday and feel pretty dull. Wow, I haven't had such a painful shot since the old penicillin days. Anyway, like my doctor said, the last place you want to find yourself is in a hospital with "plain old" pneumonia.

Live music

 

 

 

It's almost two years since we've heard a concert at Benaroya Hall. Music was such a taken for granted part of our lives-- until it stopped. All those Sunday afternoons, sitting next to Betsy, chatting at intermission and watching wonderful performances. Our seats were 4 rows back from the stage and the musicians were like familiar friends. Seems like a different lifetime.

 

We've had season tickets to the Seattle Symphony since the 90's, back when they performed at the Seattle Center Opera House. After a long commute and work at Microsoft and Boeing, I can't believe we had the energy to go downtown for the Tuesday evening series. Of course, it was much easier getting around. Now a drive to the Center could take over an hour. South Lake Union (headquarters of Amazon) is unrecognizable.

Closer to home, we were invited to a neighborhood block concert on Alki Beach, and listened to a group work their way through Mendelssohn's String Octet. It's a complicated and lively piece (the boy genius composed it when he was only 16.) Anyway, a brave choice for an amateur ensemble. It lasted an hour instead of the usual 35 minutes, so we got our money's worth!

 

 

Later that same afternoon (culture vultures) we walked a few blocks to hear a free piano recital at the Episcopal church. The excellent young pianist played Beethoven, Rachmaninoff and Chopin. When those first notes rang out in that silent space, it reminded me how much we've been missing. There's just no substitute for live performances.

John renewed our fall-winter Seattle Symphony season, but we haven't received the tickets yet. Also, no guarantee we'll have our usual old seats next to our friends. Everything will be different. The first concert is in late September and you must show proof of vaccination to enter the hall. 

A plummy day

 

Mission accomplished on the plum jam. John diced the plums (precisely of course) and I followed the recipe on the box of pectin (not quite so precisely.)

I'd rather make chutney, where you just throw everything willy nilly into the pot and let it cook down. 

Pectin recipes are supposedly foolproof, but only if you follow it.  Lots of exact weighing, measuring and fussy instructions like "boil for exactly 1 minute."

And it didn't look promising when I filled the jars, but jelled up nicely as it cooled.  A perfect consistency, actually. We had some this morning and it was delicious. Much better than any grocery store jam. Thank you W. for the extra plums! Look for a jar on your back porch.

It's a beautiful day. Instead of hiding from people as we usually do on Saturday, we're going to check out some free music events going in West Seattle. More on that later.

Have a good weekend.

Just because

 

Plum memories

 

John picked a bowl from our tree yesterday, and our neighbor brought over a bag. So we suddenly have a nice bounty.  Maybe jam?

And John wants a plum kuchen.

Impressive looking, but easy to make with a butter and egg batter, flavored with almond extract and grated orange peel. A nice combination and looks pretty in a tart pan. You slice the raw plums on top of the batter before baking and sprinkle with powdered sugar afterwards. They get soft and juicy as the cake rises up around them. Fresh fruit cake doesn't keep, but no problem to eat fast!

Plum cake always reminds me of the year we spent in Germany in the late 1970's. Our elderly neighbors made a treat each morning for their Kaffetrinken. They used whatever summer fruit was in season, and in the winter canned or frozen. These people survived depressions and two world wars, so nothing from the garden was wasted. Not a single string bean.

Amanda was the only baby on the street, and being Americans, our extravagant and strange habits were closely watched. I did odd things, like hang laundry out on Wednesday afternoon instead of Monday morning!

After the morning chores were done (which everyone did at the same times, on the same days) I was often invited over for coffee. Even in old age, they were hard working people, but there was a break in the late morning for gossip, coffee and fresh cake. They're long gone now, but I have vivid memories of those kind neighbors on Contwigerhangstrasse in Zweibrücken.

Transitions

 

 

The view at sunset looking down the river from our beach.  The golden light shining on those cottonwoods a preview of fall colors, which is just around the corner now.  My drive back to Seattle yesterday was long but easy as it gets. Perfect weather and light traffic on the passes. With 2 short stops, it takes about 5 hours to go 200 miles. The West Seattle detour is always the wild card.

The kids start school today in Winthrop. Everyone is nervous and excited. Maya goes to 3rd, and Nova starts middle school. On Monday, I tagged along to the 7th grade orientation at Liberty Bell High School. Nova and her friends looked like deer in the headlights. 

The big school is pretty intimidating and everyone confused about their schedule. Even the parents couldn't figure it out. The teachers (who looked young enough to be high school students) were all so friendly and supportive. And I certainly don't remember our principal ever saying "my door is always open, whatever you need." Back in the day, the last thing you wanted was to do was enter to the principal's office.  

We've never grown such large, mouth-watering tomatoes. It was the hottest summer anyone can remember.

I bought some peaches and pears in Wenatchee, and we have a few big plums to pick today. The apple tree is groaning with fruit, maybe I'll can applesauce but there's no way I'll use them all. 

John started fretting about replenishing our winter chutney supply. He looks forward to doing the slicing when I can, and has a special knife (and YouTube video) for every fruit and vegetable. Fine with me-- my arthritic fingers can't handle that chopping anymore.    

Well, time to get caught up on all the chores at the other house. Be careful what you wish for!