Holy Mackerel! It's a Gully Washer!

Today, I've been working on a project from early when I got up. When I took Ramses out to leave his card, the air was misty and warm. The birds were 'cha cha cheep, cha cha peeping' like crazy. My kitchen garden was happy with all its little herbs coming up. My Italian and curly parsley wintered over and are getting robust, green and happy. I did laugh when I noticed that every one of my pots had several kinds of mint in it. Talk about the life force! My pot of mints from last year have invaded the other pots. Little thugs. It's even crowded out my sages. These guys mean business! So far, my basil has escaped the invasion. But, I must be vigilant!

Then ~ about fifteen minutes ago, a giant thunderclap!  Followed immediately by a professional gully washer. How fantastic! In Seattle, we don't usually have hard rain, rarely thunder storms. We're famous for not using umbrellas much. Mostly we keep our "bumbershoots" in the closet for guests when they visit. Yes, around here rain is usual a gentle drizzle. But just now? Mais non!

Stunning! My street looked like a river. The water on the road actually had a current, forgodsake! And, the rain was pouring off the roof so hard and fast, it was running off the sides of the roof because the drain spouts were overwhelmed.

Kindah exciting.

Though I did walk around the house to see if there were any leaks in the ceiling. I have a mid-century house with a tongue and groove car decking pine ceiling. It's notorious for leaking. So far so good.



And, now it's over. Back to work . . .

Day 19 Everyday Grateful ~ What an amazing rain!

My little kitchen garden is looking damn fine!

Wonderful new project. Excellent! And, very  happy!

The Impromptu Dinner Party

The first of last week, a client of mine came over to approve some handmade tile for a project. As we were chatting to coordinate the visit, I invited her to dinner.

"You are coming a long way. Please stay for dinner. It will be no big deal ~ homemade macaroni and cheese, Caesar salad, a baguette and some red wine."

As we lingered over dinner, she mentioned that her birthday was next week; that she was not looking forward to it and could she spend it with me.

"Absolutely," I said. "Let me work out the details and we'll set it up." In the interim, a friend of a friend sent me an email ~ Heidi – why am I only now discovering your blog? It’s fabulous and I’m subscribed so I can get all your decorating secrets. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the kitchen cabinet fix up! Someday I want you to invite me to come see your house so I can copy all your brilliant ideas.  XOXO  Liz

All week long as I met with friends and close colleagues, I invited them to come for dinner. I invited Byron on the way back from the Elwha Dam removal documentary. I called my friend, Audrey, on Bainbridge to see if she was going to be in town. Then, Karen and her husband, Ron. In my brain, it started out as four and, as the week wore on, it ended up with eight.

What to fix? Comfort food. It's been raining like hell all week. Beyond drizzle. As I watched the rain sheet down the windows, I thought ~ potato soup with celery and artichokes with maybe some freshly smoked salmon crumbled on it, some crusty bread, some brie, wine.

I went to the store and bought a whole wild-caught Sockeye salmon, had it filleted, brought it home and grilled it on a cedar plank. Pink and smoky. Oh, yum! The potato soup was easy. While I don't consider myself such a red-hot cook, I do have lovely dishes and they just don't get out enough. So, I brought out the demitasse, the liqueur glasses, the Majolica cabbage soup tureen, the linen napkins ~ the whole shootin' match.

Byron brought an apple strudel pie just warm out of his oven. Laura brought a wonderful chocolate number and a couple of quarts of nice ice cream. Everyone brought a nice bottle of wine. And, we celebrated not just one but two birthdays ~ Laura, my client and Audrey, my dear friend.

At the end of my shopping trip, I had stopped at the store and bought everyone a lottery ticket and tucked it under each plate. Much hilarity ensued. We might be dining with a multimillionaire. What would you do with the money?

The impromptu dinner party? A group of strangers met for dinner and left as friends. At the end of the evening, we were discussing a monthly dinner party. I've always wanted to do that. I'll keep you posted.

The Pressure Washer ~ Friends with Benefits

It was a lovely day in Seattle yesterday. Mild sunny. Practically spring.

Those of us in the Pacific Northwest are known to rush outside on the first sunny day and lose our minds as we "frolic and detour" out the front door (not in the legal sense, mind you, but in the "it's been raining since October and we've got to get out of the house and put our hands in dirt" sense.) It's true, I've made the mistake of planting basil in April or hurrying to get my starts in the ground. Yup, we're overly enthusiastic about the prospect of warmer days ahead.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote to my friend Zen about how ghastly my blog photos looked when I really looked at them. I believe I said ~ Did you like all the moss and black slime covering my pots, bench, and limestone? I like to think it's atmospheric and not a filthy disgusting mess.

He responded with his very generous characterization ~ I prefer to think of it as having a rich yet bohemian-like earthiness........much like the patina on the bronze bells of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, or the rich sediment at the bottom of a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild.....I'm thinking a '61........

I decided rich yet Bohemian-like earthiness had to go. Here's the rub: my late husband was Mr. Tool and, because he was a fighter pilot, he was also Mr. Redundant Systems. Unfortunately, after his death, one-by-one all of his small engine equipment died as well. The worst was the pressure washer.

Pressure washing the stone around my house is a completely contemplative thing. Utterly Zen. Struggling with a dead pressure washer is entirely not Zen.

Surprise! To the rescue! My friend Karen and her husband Ron arrived yesterday morning via a big honking truck with the most amazing pressure washer I've ever seen.









We all got to work. Pressure washing the stone and the benches, scrubbing the black slime off the pots, planting the pots with optimistic bright pansies and primroses, cleaning out the scruffy dead stragglers in my little kitchen garden and getting it ready for planting basil and tomatoes in May, raking up the mulch in the perennial beds, filling the bags with yard waste ready for pick-up on Monday morning, scrubbing off the awning.

Heaven!

We worked all afternoon. Then, we made a veggie pizza, opened a bottle of wine and basked in our success.

After they left, I went out and walked around the yard. I love the look of "cared for." Cared for doesn't have to be expensive or chichi. It really is often small.

 

I slept the Sleep of the Righteous, the Contented. Of course, this morning, I can hardly walk, but, that is another story.

Oh! Baby Bunnies in the Garden.

It's raining in Seattle this morning.

When I was little, we lived on the Mojave Desert. Nearly every day, I'd go stand on the playground tarmac during recess, tilt my head looking up at the cloudless blue sky and say, "When I grow up, I'm going to live some place it rains every day."

I love Seattle.

I love the way it smells when the air is misty with rain. I love the way it feels when the rain falls in big fat drops. I love the way it sounds on the wooden ceiling of my mid-century house. I love my moss-coated garden art. I love the gentle climate that allows even a garden innocent like me to jette and pirouette around the beds.

Spring is a heady time when the 80# of King Alfred daffodils I planted last fall are optimistically peeking out from their winter slumber. When my husband died in 1996, I really needed to do hopeful things. I found that in planting bulbs. Now, going to the nursery is my hopeful fall ritual. Planting bulbs in the fall shows faith in the future. And, when they come up in spring starting with crocus, I feel profoundly happy. It's a simple thing really ~ but utterly lovely. It gives me a glimpse of what it must feel like to be Vita Sackville-West ~ with a lot less experience, fewer staff and smaller grounds. I live in paradise.

This morning when I took my dog, Ramses, out to potty, he was very interested in something close to the base of a large fir tree. He thrust his nose into the ivy and started to paw around. In all the excitement, he dislodged what looked like a bird's nest. On closer inspection ~ a nest of baby bunnies! They looked to be just hours old. Certainly no more than a couple of days ~ naked, eyes tight shut. They didn't appear to be injured though he messed up the nest a bit in his excitement. I found the three that came out when he lifted their upside down cashmere-lined dome, tucked them back in and dragged Ramses away.

I love knowing I have bunnies in my garden.

Sweet.

Spring must be just around the corner.