Little things, old things

There's something mysterious about old books. Riding my bike last week, I stopped at a little lending library in Twisp. It was tucked in with all the tattered paperbacks in the old phone booth on Glover Street.

The book was published the year I was 10 years old, a long time to knock around staying in perfect condition! It's just a collection of sayings, essays, poems and inspirational stories.

Long before anyone used words like "meditation," "mindfulness," "zen," and "daily practice," there was this:

One of the striking things about successful persons is their facility of determining the relative importance of different things. Life is so short and time so fleeting that much which one would do must be omitted. He is fortunate who perceives this at a glance. Reflect every morning what is important and leave everything else undone. There is no rule more indispensable to success.

Edward Young

Also from the "Success" chapter: 

He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, who has never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction.  Anon.

Happy Mother's Day weekend. 

Perfection

 

Perfectly poached eggs and perfectly ripe avocado on wheat toast. (John doesn't care for either which is fine--all the more for me.)

A perfect breakfast that would cost big bucks in a restaurant, if you could find one.  In West Seattle, the breakfast options are pretty limited. There are some little cafes scattered around but they don't open early. It sounds weird, but we don't have a single chain restaurant like Appleby's, much less, a 24-hour coffee shop like Waffle House. 

I read in the paper that the downtown clubbers, after a night of drinking, gather in the wee hours at a depressing ancient Denny's in the SoHo District. Unlike most major cities, there isn't a night dining scene in Seattle. Not that we care.

Speaking of perfection, a perfect weather day coming up with sunshine start to finish and temperatures in the mid-70's. Looking forward to gathering on the sunny patio with our ukuleles.

Bluebells

 

Believe it or not, there's a flower bed under there. Most of that spent spring foliage needs to come out. Ugh. With my arthritic hands, the heavy work is starting to "get away from me,” as they say about old people.

Still, it's a pretty mess. The bluebells always remind me of a scene from the sweet 1990's TV series, "The Darling Buds of May," based on the English novels by H.E. Bates. 

The main characters Pop and Ma Larkin beguile Cedric Charlton, a timid and stuffy tax inspector, into abandoning his investigation of their finances by sending him out to view the bluebell field with their daughter Mariette, played by stunningly beautiful young Catherine Zeta-Jones. (He never knew what hit him.)

A gentle and funny series-- the kind they just don't make anymore. Check it out, if you feel like slowing down a bit in front of the TV.

One more day

 

Chilly and rainy this morning with the furnace running. Maybe for the last time until fall? We're entering a stretch of dry, hot weather all across the state. It might reach 90 by the weekend-- which has never happened in mid May. The weather seems to jump from one extreme to the next. Of course this will cause more rapid mountain snow melt. Only so many things you can worry about at once.

In the meantime, nothing new or exciting here on the western home front. I bought some healthy pepper plants ($2 each!) at Lone Pine, and our potted tomatoes are finally taking off along the side of the house. Rampant growth (good and bad) is everywhere from the wet spring. Already time to clear out the spent spring foliage, not my favorite task. 

Who can get mad at a bluebell? But they spread like crazy in a rich, composted flower bed. The lush leaves smother the delicate lilies trying to poke through at the same time. Then the entire plant disappears, and you forget about them until next year. The only time to dig bluebells out is while they're blooming, which always seems kind of harsh.

Wild waters

 

That is the confluence of the Twisp and Methow Rivers at Twisp City Park. Amanda said in 15 years living in town, she's never seen the rivers look quite so "ragey." A good word for it. The Methow crested at about 18,000 cfs on Saturday morning, slightly above the 10 foot flood stage.

The water came up to the edge of the lawn and a side channel ran down the trail like a mini river. The house sits on a slight rise, so good to know it would take a much larger flood than this to submerge the property. That said, it was a nail-biter to witness firsthand, instead of just fretting over the flood warnings from Seattle. 

The water is receding for now, and things look none the worse for wear. Instead of losing waterfront the opposite happened, with a delivery of fresh sand to replenish the beach and trail.

A view of the property from the opposite side of the Methow. 

Enough about the river. We had a fun weekend and the community theater production of Wizard of Oz was delightful.

One of the other highlights was looking down from Amanda and Tom's property, high above Twisp. The land was a garden of blooming Arrowleaf Balsamroot and other wildflowers. I tuned on my bird song identification app, and within 5 minutes it lit up with a list of 12 different species of songbird. Pure magic. 

Back to the city today.

Life on the river

 

Nothing lazy about this river, raging right in front of the yard this morning. The combination of hard rain and melting snow brought it up to 16,000 cfi. It was 12,000 yesterday when we arrived.

Although the view from the sofa is unnerving, so far so good. The flood watch expires later today so hopefully it crests soon. Never a dull moment in the Methow Valley.