His and hers

 

Our second Lazy Boy recliner was finally delivered, the excitement of the day. We ordered it from a family furniture store in Brewster last July, right after we bought the house. I remember the hot, smoky day. Nine months later and the house looks so nice I really can't think of a single thing we need. But I probably will. It's such a fun project.

The store owner himself came along on the delivery yesterday. Honestly, people are friendlier or maybe not in such a rush. Brewster is about 50 miles from Twisp so it's a long delivery route. He said I "got lucky" on the chair because the waits were about a year for that brand. Lots of lazy old boys out here wanting a chair. 

Filled up the car (ka-chink) for the drive home tomorrow. Some mountain snow today but sunny skies predicted for tomorrow and the roads should be fine. Back to winter for a few days, with lows in the teens.

Spring in the air

 

Maya and "Lemon"

I'm looking forward to some fresh poached eggs. Despite the snow and cold, the hens have been laying like crazy all winter.  All the love and attention must have something to do with it. They are truly pets, and come running for a treat whenever they spot human legs.

Mornings are my favorite time of day here. The house faces east, so you can watch the sun come up over the mountain across the river. The golden light is beautiful. No drapes or blinds in the living room windows, so the glare is intense until the tree canopy fills in again. Don't even think about watching TV, not that I'd want to pollute the magic hour with a bunch of awful news.

 It's back to work and school today for everyone but I'll keep busy. Another sunny day in the 50's which should finish off the snow on the deck. Then it gets cold again, as the weather whipsaws between winter and spring for a few more weeks. Snow in the mountain passes tomorrow, so I'll probably return to Seattle on Wednesday. 

The waters of March

 

It isn't as cold as it looks. The temperature reached a high of 50 yesterday, and the water dripping from the roof sure sounded cheerful as I was unloading. The big (dirty) piles of snow from the city plows are shrinking and the streets are bare and dry-- except where they're muddy.  

Yes, this is the mud season. But it's a quick one. The sun is so strong, the ground goes from wet to bone dry almost instantly. Fortunately, our gravel driveway drains well. Summer arrives suddenly here.

Everything is fine at the house, just as I left it. It was a pleasant drive over in John's new Honda, now that I'm getting used to all the bells and whistles. I asked did he want to swap cars? No luck. 

It was warm enough to sit outside at Lone Pine with a peach smoothie to celebrate spring.

Dear cards

 

Amanda has taught her girls to write personalized thank you cards, which is a lovely and old-fashioned habit. Yes, I'm biased, but Nova's artwork is beautiful. Look at those mountains and the stylish lettering.

Neither girl has a cell phone, which I suppose by city standards is unusual. That doesn't mean they don't sneak off with their mom's iPhone to play games, and Nova has a Chromebook for school. Maya sends me cute text messages sometimes, she loves emojis, but neither girls have email accounts, as far as I know.

Amanda and I were talking recently and Facebook came up in the conversation. Maya said, "What's Facebook?" How sweet is that? And sweet faces to go with it. 

The weather looks fine across the state, so I'm driving to Twisp tomorrow with a bunch of stuff I collected recreational shopping these boring winter months. I'll stay for a few days and putter around the house which sounds like heaven. Winter isn't over in the Valley yet, but we're over the hump. In the meteorological world at least, Spring begins on March 1.

Ash Wednesday

 

 

Ash Wednesday, by Karl Spitzweg

"Here we see a man who, only hours before, was cavorting in full-blown pleasure as Carnaval’s excesses wound to a roaring end. He may have been a costumed reveler, swirling with friends amidst a cascade of Bratwurst, schnapps, and ancient rowdy tunes. Or he may have been a hired performer, a jester exhausted from working the long days of celebration, who somehow got on the wrong side of things. Now, though, he sits in a dungeon. His hope now lies in the faint light that proclaims the morning known as Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. Art conveys what words cannot."

From Professor Carol website

 

Wabi-sabi

A whopping three inches of rain fell yesterday in Seattle. When I came home from the store, the old fig tree trunk seemed to glow in the watery, greenish light. It looked like a rain forest. Mosses are ancient plants, even older than ferns, and there are twelve thousand species. 

People around here wage a never-ending battle against moss in their yards. On the other hand, moss is essential to Japanese Garden design, lending a feeling of antiquity and and calm.

The Japanese say "it takes a wabi heart to recognize sabi beauty." Wabi is about recognizing beauty in humble simplicity, to open our heart and detach from the vanity of materialism. Sabi is about the passage of time, and seeing beauty in the way all things grow, age, and decay.

I keep meaning to photograph all the different moss and lichens growing on the "ancient" surfaces in this yard. Up close, moss looks like an incredible miniature forest.

Ha, it rained so hard my crow stake fell over when his bucket filled to the top with water. Of course his head landed on soft moss. Fortunately, we're drying out and by the weekend should be warm and sunny. The garden will seriously take off.