18 Years

In case I haven't mentioned it, I love snow.

Eighteen years ago yesterday, I was in 6th grade. I went to school as usual and my mom headed off with my youngest sister to do Christmas shopping after dropping me off. By noon there was three inches of snow. Now in some places, that is just a light a pleasant dusting. But here, where 1/2 inch of snow means school and road closures, 3 inches in four hours is serious business. School ended early that day and I had a lovely (if chilly) walk home. My mom made it back just in time. In the morning, there were six more inches--and no more school until after Christmas. We took out the toboggan and went sledding at the local elementary school and golf course. We rescued people who had been stuck in their cars and generally had a great time.

Yesterday, I went to work with a rapidly melting 1/2 inch or so on the ground and mostly clear roads. Buses were late and chained up but I made it. After watching some of the heaviest and most consistent snowfall that I have seen in quite a while (eighteen years, maybe?), I and the others that were relying on bus transportation to get home, left. Never have I regretted my lack of forsight in not wearing my boots so much. Two hours later, I was home and warming up--just in time to go for a much more enjoyable and appropriately bundled up walk with Jonathan. We got about 5-6 inches altogether and the temperature never got above 27 degrees.

Today, there is not yet more snow but iced-over roads mean cancellation or limitation of most bus routes and, for the first time since I have worked there, a reduced staff level at work. Snow day!

The Oaks At Home

My family has a drop-in mentality. When we are in the neighborhood of family or friends with a little extra time, here we come. Obviously this works better for some people than others and some seasons of life than others. I personally like to come bearing gifts, usually the edible variety, to provide an excuse to say hello even when the time isn't good for visiting.
Due to a couple of unfortunate episodes early in our marriage (and a busy schedule), my family has not been able to drop in while passing as much as they (and we) would like. Hence, our At Home.
This terminology is reminiscent of Oscar Wilde's London but what I mean is a time when everyone knows that we are open for visitors to stop by without worrying that they will be interrupting or imposing and know that we will even be there.
So, we decided, quite arbitrarily, on the second and fourth Thursdays of each month to be At Home. If you are in the area, feel free to stop by after 7:00. We will serve you tea and you can help us put up our Christmas decorations.

Happy Veteran's Day

Thank you to all of the veterans who have faithfully protected the helpless, promoted justice and fought to bring freedom around the world.

He Hideth my Soul

I transplanted these hens and chicks into our rockery at the end of the summer, hoping that they would create a more refined look than the dead grass and blackberry sprouts that were growing there at the time. They have established well, although it is probably too early to expect them to spread. I have high hopes for future rocky elegance, though.

Tendrils

Desert Bloom

It has been a year of babies for friends and relatives.
These were made for my college roommate who recently gave birth to her little desert flower in Arizona.

Saguaro

Barrel Cactus

Asters

Poppies

Legacy

My grandmother recently moved into an adult family home, necessitating a downsize from her apartment. As the embroiderer and tea-lover in the family, I chose a few handmade linens and the Japanese teapot that my grandfather brought back from occupied Japan.
I also chose her recipe box.


It is everything that a recipe box should be--well used and well worn. Cards that are grease-spotted, wrinkled, both typed and hand written. Recipes copied from magazines and cookbooks and gifts from friends. Glimpses of the church and neighbor communities within the directions for upsizing for potlucks and notes on baby showers. A lifetime of friends and family sharing food, raising families and celebrating.


An appalling number of the recipes contain some variety of flavored gelatin. Some of them are clearly dated with their emphasis on canned or prepackaged ingredients and references to an obscure substance called spry (a brand of shortening that was sold in the 1930's to 1950's). A number of them reflect her Scandinavian background with names like Fattimunda, others simply reflect the times (Lemon Fluff, anyone?).


Her Danish Brown Sugar cookies have been a fixture in my holiday baking ever since I was able to make sense of a recipe that called for the ingredients in pounds. This year I may have to add Delia's zucchini bread and Minnie's (my great-grandmother) Spanish Cake.

I am well into creating my own lifetime recipe box even though I have moved the cards into a notebook for easier access. There are cards from friends and family, made-up recipes too good to let fall into oblivion and experimental recipes from online cookbooks--a truly contemporary twist on recipe-sharing. The things that I collect will change over time--from exotic treats to plain and frugal family meals to Fifty Ways to Use the Forty Pounds of Blueberries that we just picked.
I hope that I can also incorporate not only some of my grandmother's recipes into my cooking routine but also some of her love and dedication to serving those under her care.

Doing the Puyallup

Swallowtail

Lest it appear that I only take trips and visit friends, let me present my interpretation of one of the more popular patterns from Ravelry--the Swallowtail shawl. Knitting isn't as high on my list of interests as some other things, however, when I saw a book of lace shawl patterns, I decided that they were incredibly beautiful. And besides, I had to prove to myself that I could do something like that--especially after hearing how difficult lace knitting can be. As it turns out, it does have its challenges, but I was pretty happy with my first attempt.

The yarn was a 100% rayon weaving fiber from the Weaving Works. I picked it out initially because I loved the color. It didn't have the give to it that wool does, but it also didn't get fuzzy with repeated pulling in and out of my bag so I was able to more easily see the stitches and pattern definition.

This photo is the whole shawl pinned for blocking. This one was taken without a flash and gives a much better idea of the color. Yes, there is still an end or two to be worked in. I added several repeats of the center pattern in order to make it just a bit bigger. I wasn't sure how much it would stretch when blocked and wanted it to generously cover my shoulders.

A closeup of the tip pattern:

Along the side:

Canning

We took our nearly annual trip out to Bellevue to pick blueberries and picked up a 20 lb box of fresh peaches from the fruit stand there. We devoured some but I also wanted to have my first opportunity to can my own peaches.

Rinsing and peeling peaches. Note the stove full of pots in the background. How did the pioneer women do it?

My mom was mercifully there to help walk me through. Full concentration for the entire time is essential. My multitasking skills were actually a hindrance here.

The last batch in the canner:

Perfect seal rate! Yum!


Also yummy was the plain and spiced peach syrup that I made out of the leftover simple syrup. We had overestimated the amount needed for the peaches and there was enough left in the bowl to cook down and fill two more jars.

Outing

From the back of the ferry returning from Bremerton:

Honeymooning

We spent our third anniversary in Seaside, Oregon. It was beautiful and fun for me to take Jonathan to some of the places that I had vacationed as a child.
On the way there, we drove a long way through Fort Stevens Park to find a place to park that had a short walk to the beach for dinner.


It was a little chilly though...


We brought tools for building sand castles but ended up spending most of the time playing in the tide pools.

We found larvae, sand shrimp, juvenile fish, snails and burrowing beasties. Very different than what we see on our rocky coast.

There were hundreds of these little crustaceans. This was one of the larger specimens. We discovered later that they were, appropriately, simply called sand crabs. Some of the larger specimens had beautifully colored eggs underneath the carapace.

This sign was hanging in the restaurant we went to for our anniversary dinner.


The weather got nicer as the week progressed. We were able to see the Peter Iredale (sort of-the tide wasn't the best) and fly kites to our hearts' content. There was no inclination for more immersion that wading, however.


There were more candy (especially taffy) stores than just about anything else. This one had it all, including exotic flavored malted milk balls, vintage candy and variously flavored chocolate covered twinkies.

Happy anniversary, dearling!

First Day of

Work!
We are fortunate enough to live close to several bus routes to downtown. And even more fortunate that our schedules work out just right to commute together.

Summer Lounging

So what do you do on nice days in the summer?

Bloedel

Bloedel is an old estate on Bainbridge Island that has been turned into a private park. It has been a special place for our family over the years and my parents recently bought a membership in order to be able to enjoy it more often and share it with friends.
The tour begins with a Victorian gatehouse. My mom pointed out that many of her ideas of what makes an elegant and comfortable home come from the buildings here. Even the black and white tile pattern in their upstairs bathroom is reminiscent of the ones at the gatehouse.

The path away from the gatehouse towards the barns and forest:

The majority of the acreage is "cultivated wilderness."

The pathway to enchantment:

I inevitably feel the pull of archways like this. They have such a sense of mystery and promise. There must be something wonderful to be revealed after one comes through the dim, leafy corridor out into the sun!

There is!
We do live in the PNW after all.

The estate house overlooks the Puget Sound on the other side.

We missed the rhododendron blooms but the textures of leaf and water were still stunning. Growing up, I had a recurring dream of a house with beautiful gardens that I came upon after a walk through the woods. While the magic of my dreams was created from years of reading and imagination, this place inevitably colored all of them.

My mom brought me here for the first time the summer I turned ten to share with me some of the special things about growing up. She took a picture on this wishing bench.

My parents at the reflecting pool:

Playing with the tadpoles:


We took the ferry back over the Sound to cap off the day.

B.S. and Ph.T.

This will be brief but otherwise it won't get published at all.

Jonathan graduated with his B.S. in June after three years of effort and study.


Proud parents:

Cameras were everywhere:

This is a success for both of us:

Chatting with professors:


The family in front of Kane Hall:

The M.S.E. Building:

Dad found his results in a poster on the walls:

We had a nice time celebrating at our house afterwards.