"Alpine Dreams"

Here's a beautiful time-lapse video of Washington mountain scenery, made by local photographer Don Jensen.  All those stars! And something to think about: 

A new study suggests that one out of every five stars in the Milky Way galaxy has a planet about the size of Earth, properly positioned for water, a key ingredient for life. If this is correct, our galaxy alone is home to 10-billion potentially habitable worlds. Carl Sagan was right.

There's no lack of water in this corner of the galaxy today-- another major wind and rain event is headed our way.

A new ukulele friend

UkuleleTricks.com

Brett

I went to the weekly ukulele strumming circle at the West Seattle Senior Center a couple weeks ago.  It was a small group compared to that enormous SUPA monthly gathering, but newcomers seemed welcome and there were still enough good players to shield the beginners from embarrassment.  I've found that ukulele players like to sing loudly, and they're pretty uninhibited about it.  Of course that's the fun and charm of the instrument, because in these strumming circles everyone more or less joins in, just like singing in church.

The West Seattle group has their own big song book, and they take turns choosing what to play next.   I didn't know the book of course, so when my turn came I tried to think of the easiest song I know, and said how about You Are My Sunshine?  Yes, of course they had the music, but instead of 3 or 4 easy chords like my version, it had a whole slew of hard bar chords and fast changes.  Well.  As I fumbled along, I realized I've neglected plain old strumming, the most enjoyable thing about playing the ukulele.

Most of my effort has been learning to read notes, and trying to play simpleton instrumental solos of tunes like Ode to Joy, Amazing Grace and Scarborough Fair.  Over and over and over.  But now I have a new ukulele teacher. His name is Matt McQueen, a sweet young guy who teaches his Ukulele Strumming Tricks course over the Internet.  He's a wonderful instructor, kindly and patient and cute.  You can even email questions and he writes you back.  Twenty-seven lessons for $47 from the comfort of home. What a deal.

I have this fantasy of someday walking into a new senior center strumming circle, and just burnin' down the house with my amazing playing.

Thoughts turn to food

The November 4th New Yorker magazine was dedicated entirely to food stories, including an article called "Beastly Appetites."  It described illegal sushi restaurants where if you have enough money and know how to ask, the chef will serve up endangered species or make instant sashimi of live critters he keeps under the counter for special customers.  Literally, live on your table.

Well, sorry-- that's too much detail for this hour of the morning. But it does make a person wonder, with all the wonderful, nice things we have to eat in this country, why someone would pay $80 for a little slice of raw sea mammal?  Not to mention, consume something while it watches you.

The best deal in town right now is $1.79 butternut squash at Trader Joe's.  Same price as last year, and you can dig around for the biggest one in the pile.  I cut it up with my machete knife and peeled it raw (a chore requiring mindfulness) then baked the pieces with butter, brown sugar and some fresh Penzey's cinnamon a friend just gave me.

John's words were, "Wow! That is a lot of squash!"
I said,  "Yes, and we're going to eat it all. Eventually."

It was perfect fall food last night, with a pork loin and the new plum chutney. We're headed into the dark time now.  I don't have a food processor, but maybe I can put the leftovers in the blender with broth and spices and make butternut squash soup?  If you've done this, let me know. 

Speaking of spices, I was bored a couple of weeks ago and cleaned out my spice black hole. We have a tiny kitchen where every inch of space must be used, even this mostly worthless corner cupboard. Bottles fall off into the back, never to be seen again. My goodness, there were jars back there from 2000.

 Of course spices don't "spoil" in the way of sending you to the emergency room, but they do get stale and dusty so I threw out a pail full.  A good excuse (not that I need one) to head to Trader Joe's.

Stormy weather

The wine garden is closed for the season.  Well, at least the outdoor one.  We had a mighty big wind storm on Saturday, with peak gusts of 61 mph just down the road at Alki Beach. An impressive 59 mph at SeaTac Airport. One of the Lake Washington floating bridges closed suddenly, and people had to abandon their cars and walk off the bouncing thing.  I wonder if the highway patrol handed out life jackets?

Power went out all around Seattle and the lights flickered here, but we live in one of the favored areas where electricity rarely goes off.  We stayed home. John spent the day downloading the new Maverick operating system over poky Clearwire, but now he says it's worth it. I wouldn't know-- I can't seem to leave Windows Land. 

Then Sunday was a calm, lovely day.  I went out to look at my moldering, mossy, weed-growing, leaf strewn yard and felt overwhelmed. The compost blowing truck comes in 10 days. Well, it's too late anyway to get leaves from across the street-- they've been blown into other people's yards. I'm sure it will be worth the wait when I finally see everything covered with a layer of beautiful, black compost.

How's your body clock this morning?  One of John's back-up alarms accidentally went off at 3:30, which was really 4:30, or something like that. Nothing makes sense at that hour. So much for that extra hour of sleep.

Batten down the hatches

Photo by National Park Service, November 1

When Mt. Rainier wears her hat (called a lenticular cloud) it usually means it's going to rain soon in Seattle.  And so a major storm is coming in today, with rain and wind for the lowlands and lots of snow in the mountains. This is the first snow event of the season in the Cascades, with over a foot predicted by Sunday morning. Winter arrives. The smart money is heading South.

The trees around here still have their leaves, and it would be nice if the wind whipped them all away like a leaf-blower, but I'll have a big soggy mess next week.  By November, I usually have the flower beds mulched with maple leaves carted from across the street, but this year everything is still bare. The compost blowing truck doesn't come for couple of weeks, and in the meantime weeds keep growing.

Last week was busy for us, and it's nice not to have any particular plans this weekend.  No concert, no opera, and best of all, no good reason to leave West Seattle.  Oh, yes. It's time to change all the clocks, but don't expect your body clock to listen. Wine time and supper will be an hour late tomorrow.

Remembering Lucy

These things have not been changed,
not in three hundred years.
-John Peale Bishop


On the November Book of Hours calendar page, a peasant is throwing sticks into the trees, knocking down oak mast to fatten up his pigs.  It's that sweet-faced, patient dog in the corner that touches me this morning.

 Lucy

February 12, 2000 - October 31, 2013

My brother Dave's Golden Retriever reached the end of her fine, long life yesterday. Lucy was golden on the outside, but she also had a golden, gentle heart.  It just won't seem like a family holiday without Lucy "helping" me in the kitchen!  I used to sneak her big pieces of turkey skin when Dave wasn't looking (the aftermath was his problem ;-)

And how many people can say they've had a smile on their face for 13 years?   Like all our good pets, Lucy reminds us what's important:  Take each day as the gift it is.  Never worry. Tomorrow doesn't exist. Fuzzy toys rock. Dinner and a walk with the person you love is the highlight of the day.  And when you find warm, soft grass-- roll.

Lucy will be missed by everyone who knew her.

 What we have once enjoyed

we can never lose;

All that we love deeply,

becomes a part of us.

-Helen Keller