Zen garden

 

The weather was dry this weekend, so we drove down to Powellswood Garden in Federal Way. We've never been there in January, and the massive banana trees and giant gunneras had collapsed into a soggy mess on the ground. In a few weeks, the tops will emerge again like prehistoric creatures. 

It was peaceful, although cold and muddy so we didn't walk down into the ravine. The 3-acre garden is incredibly fecund, planted on an old county plant composting site. One of our favorite hidden places. 

On the way home, McDonald hamburgers in the front seat of the car. Sigh. Memories are made of this. The dining rooms in most fast food restaurants are still closed. Finding a clean restroom when you are out and about is almost impossible these days. 

We wonder sometimes if McDonalds will ever reopen the lobbies, making money hand over fist with a limited drive thru menu.  It looked like the kitchen was staffed with a gaggle of confused teenagers. They don't even supply them with the dorky uniform, no doubt making it a more attractive place to work for kids.

Anyway. Sunday was all about football and what exciting games. How about those Bengals?  I love it when the underdog wins. We have family in Cincinnati, making it all the sweeter. 

Speaking of sweet, check out Maya's "Everything You Want" booth, constructed this weekend with some help from her dad. Think big and just ask Maya. 

Well, today we say a fond farewell, or maybe good riddance, to the long month of January. And everyone looking forward to spring days and lighter times ahead.

"The dearest freshness"

"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?"  

The sun made a blinding appearance yesterday and the world lit up in technicolor. It was like suddenly going from black and white film noir to a Disney cartoon-- beautiful but disorientating. 

 

Signs of spring now everywhere on my walk. Seeing the bulbs poke up thorough winter mess and city trash always reminds me of this line from a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins:

 

And for all this, nature is never spent;

    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things...

And in our yard, the pale pink camellia decided to bloom early. Always the first real flower of the season, delicate looking but tough as nails.

I spent some time yesterday with a hospice patient who will not see another spring. This experience puts things profoundly and instantly into perspective, which is beautiful and painful, like the sun piercing through the fog.

Can I go for a single day without complaining about something trivial, or worrying about things I have no control over? How easily our negative thought patterns become habits. And our habits, good and bad, define who we are.

Well, some big football games to watch this weekend which should be fun. Hope you have a good one. See you Monday.

Enough fog, already

 

They're saying Sunday now, when we finally break out of this cold fog weather pattern. This stagnant air makes walking around outside downright unpleasant, not to mention, unhealthy.

But we're wrapping up the long month of January and there's cause for celebration. Yesterday was the first after 5 pm sunset. That's 9 hours and 18 minutes of grey daylight in Seattle. The Big Dark (or I should say, the Big Murk) is gradually coming to an end.  

January 27th is Chocolate Cake Day, so go ahead.

Chocolate cake with raspberries and Turkish coffee. Doesn't that look good? 

 

A good book

 

 

How would we get through the long dreary winter without good books? 

I've really been looking forward to "Crossroads," Jonathan Frazen's newest novel. I splurged and bought it on evil Amazon to read slowly (600 pages) then share around. No one writes about American family dynamics like Frazen. Every paragraph is a gem. There's another black sheep son in this story, similar to "The Corrections," his first novel and a big hit in 2001.

Before that, something I picked up from a little lending library because I liked the cover. "Juliet's Nurse" is a retelling of the Romeo and Juliet story from the perspective of the nurse-- with a few twists in the plot.

And before that, another escapist novel called "Red Lotus." A tad violent, but one of those books where you can really lose yourself in the characters and foreign culture.

And before that, "The Hearts of Horses" by Molly Gloss. It's a lovely story about a woman who gentles young horses in Eastern Oregon in the era of WWI. One of the best descriptions of natural horse behavior and patient training, written by someone who truly loves and understands them in a realistic way. An original  "horse whisperer” story without all that sappy, over-emotionalized nonsense.

And last but not least, "After River" another book I fished from a lending library on one of my walks. A poignant story about the Vietnam War years, and an American deserter who lives with a family on a dairy farm in British Columbia.

 

Murk

A long streak of calm, dry weather is pretty rare in January. In the summer, a high pressure system overhead is a happy thing, bringing clear skies and fair weather.  But in the winter, it's called a "dirty high" because clouds and fog (and pollution) are trapped under the bubble of high pressure. 

So here we are under the murk until Friday, when rain returns to clean things out. Ironically, clear skies are 1,000 feet above our heads. Oh, what a happy day to fly out of Seattle. If only.

Anyway, at least Saturday was sunny before the fog settled in. I pruned the roses. That seems early, but there's already a feeling of turning the corner to spring. Bulbs coming up, shrubs and trees starting to bud.

And of course, football and food to fill the indoor hours. I get bored with those games that don't look close, then wander away and miss the great ending when the underdog comes roaring back. That would have been a mistake this weekend. Go, Bengals.

Looking at those stadiums full of unmasked, happy, yelling people, it seems the pandemic is over except for depressing Seattle. People wear masks everywhere in public, and some still cross the street when they see you coming. Of course, Seattle is not famous as a friendly city. I once read an article that claimed conservatives were basically happier than liberals. Might be something to that...we tend to be whiners. 

 

Get Up

 

Between the winter weather and the pandemic, it's easy to become socially isolated. And frankly, things that were once easy and enjoyable are stressful. Before you know it, you're in an unhealthy rut cooped up in the house all day. It takes an effort to change. 

"Get Up Offa That Thing" says the King of Soul. No excuses.

Our Senior Center is still open, but I stopped going to the weekly ukulele practice. A few brave souls show up, but between the small room, singing, and casual mask wearing, it seems like pushing your luck a little too far. 

Yesterday I decided to check out the weekly Arts and Crafts session. It was fun. People bring whatever they enjoy doing, like knitting, painting, collage, beading, etc. I like pencil drawing, especially copying flowers and plants from botanical books. Lately I have hard time concentrating at home. There's too many distractions, and I'm jumping up and down.

So it was relaxing to just sit for a couple of hours drawing and listening to people chatter. The session is very causal, but there's an instructor of sorts, who answers questions and gives suggestions if you ask. Anyway, she said my flowers would be pretty with a touch of watercolor and will give me some tips next week, something to look forward to.

Have a good weekend. Get out there if you can.