Our Anniversary

10 years? Already? I can't believe Paul and I have been married for 10 years. Usually we just enjoy a quiet dinner to celebrate our anniversary, but since this is our 10th we're taking a trip through the wine country as our gift to each other (we're leaving the first week of July).

Last night we stopped at Tacoma Wine Merchant to pick up our wine club selection and purchase a few additional bottles. Afterwards we headed next door to Enoteca for a glass or two and a cheese plate before dinner. Bill gave us a glass of champagne (on the house) to start the evening off right. Such a sweet gesture.

Next we were off to Europa for dinner. The tables outside were open so we snagged one. I love sidewalk dining -- reminds me of Europe (and Seattle for that matter). Paul and I changed seats halfway through the meal so our faces would roast evenly as the sun went down. I have to say the food was a bit disappointing, but not the company. It was a lovely meal.

We stopped at home long enough to let the dogs out, put away the leftovers, and then we went for a short bike ride. We rode to the middle of Skyline Bridge to watch the sun as it set over the Narrows. It was a bit cloudy, but we could still enjoy the lovely pink and gold sky.

It was a perfect end to a lovely day that celebrates a wonderful marriage. I can't say it enough Paul -- I love you. Thanks for marrying me.

My Mom the Enviromentalist

This weekend Paul and I drove with my mom to Sequim to visit my brother and his family. Long story short some one needed a drink of water and my mom whipped out her water bottle -- a metal water bottle. I congratulated her on it, she said well of course I'm not using a plastic bottle, and then she proceeded to lecture me about the evils of plastic bottles, overflowing landfills, and such.

My mom has always reused, renewed, and recycled way before it was hip -- it was just a way of life for her. When she was growing up there was no curbside trash collection in Japan (or electricity, or running water). Trash had to be burned, buried or turned into compost. I remember splitting the raw and cooked food into two containers, raw for the compost heap, and cooked to be disposed of as trash. The cooked food was drained and then whirled in the blender with some water. Then mom would strain the mixture and the liquid went down the sink. Whatever was collected in the sieve was then dumped in the trashcan. No packaging escaped compaction . Pop cans were smashed and saved in bags to take back to the plant for whatever pittance they were offering then. Milk cartons (paper or plastic) squished, and metal cans smashed flat (with the tops and bottoms inside) before they were thrown out. Newspaper was rolled into "logs", tied off with string and burned in our fireplace to help stretch out our supply of Duraflame logs.

It was all very tedious and time consuming, and instead of continuing to practise them I turned them into examples of how far we'd come in our world of convenience. Now that I'm (finally) starting a compost pile I have a lovely ceramic piece in the shape of a trashcan that sits on my counter top, with a charcoal filter in the lid to keep the smells at bay (my mom used an old coffee can with the plastic lid, or an old mixing bowl). My scraps are patiently waiting in the freezer to be dumped into the fancy two compartment compost box with a shared platform that my husband is building for me (my mom just dumped things in a pile in the backyard and staked chicken wire to keep it at bay). All this renewed interest in recycling, gardening, and urban chickens amuses my mom. Metal water containers, rain barrels, composting aren't new she reminds me, and laughs that she's lived long enough to see practices she once thought of as old-fashioned being introduced as new ideas today.

A Visit to Sequim

My brother and his family live in Sequim and we don't get over there as often as we'd like or should. Last Saturday we drove with mom to see Stephanie's perform in a dance recital (she's taking lessons in jazz and tap).

On the way to the recital we stopped at the middle school to see some art. Brandon graduated from the 5th grade this year, and his school has a tradition that I think is awesome. The graduating class gets to leave their mark on the school by painting a "tile". Then on the last day the entire school lines up around the corridors, and the 5th graders march around the corridors receiving high fives from the whole school. How cool is that?

Yum, Hummus

I love, love, love hummus. I used to make it all the time when the kids were younger. It was always good, but I made it in a blender and it was such a hassle I just starting buying the Costco stuff. After throwing away yet another half eaten container of soupy, tasteless hummus I decided to start making my own again only this time I have a food processor which makes it so easy!! I cook my own beans (if time allows). Why use cooked beans over canned? Well, they taste better, and it helps you control your salt intake. Of course it takes a lot more time, and it's messy removing the skins after cooking. Kat wanted the recipe (which I've adapted from the Barefoot Contessa) so here it is!

Paul's Hummus

5-6 cloves roasted garlic (you can use fresh garlic, but I'd cut it down to 3-4 cloves)

5-6 Tbsp fresh lemon juice (the juice of two lemons)

3 cups cooked garbanzo beans (you can substitute with two 14 oz cans, rinsed)

1/3 cup Tahini (probably best to start with 1/4 cup and then add to taste)

1 1/2 teaspoon salt (or salt to taste)

Roasted sweet red peppers (add to taste)

2-3 Tbsp water (optional)

Quarter the cloves of garlic and then put in the food processor and pulse until minced. Add lemon juice, garbanzo beans, and Tahini and process. Add thin strips of roasted sweet red peppers and process. I probably add about half a pepper -- just add to taste. You can use fresh sweet peppers, but it's not as good. Salt to taste. If the hummus is too pasty or dry add a few tablespoon or so of water to loosen. The water usually isn't needed unless you omit the red pepper.

Roasted Red Peppers

Brush liberally with vegetable oil. Place on baking sheet under broiler and turn as they skin starts to boil and blacken. I've never timed the process but it'll probably take about 30 minutes. You don't have to watch constantly, but do keep a mindful eye 'cause they can burn quickly. When finished place in Pyrex (or equivalent) container and cover tightly with Saran Wrap and let set for about 20 minutes. When cool enough to handle pull off skin, remove core, open pepper and scrape out seeds. Cut into strips and store in container with olive oil and chopped garlic.

Roasted Garlic

Remove loose paper covering from a head of garlic. Cut off the top of the head just enough to expose the cloves (about 1/2 inch). Place on aluminum foil, drizzle liberally with olive oil and wrap tightly. Place in 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes or until the delicious aroma of roasted garlic fills the kitchen. Let cool, and pop clove from the skin. Store in container, drizzled lightly with olive oil.

Cauliflower, Cabbage Worms and Chili Juice

The holes in the cauliflower leaves can no longer be ignored. For the last few days I've been pulling an average of five cabbage worms a day. Well, pulling isn't exactly the right term. As most of you know I hate bugs (just writing about them I have to pause every few seconds to itch my scalp and arms) and cannot stomach the thought of touching them. So I have a spoon that I use to scoop up the worms and hurl them over the side of the deck. (Bye-bye worms!)

Yesterday after my morning scoop and toss I noticed down in the folds, way down, down in the center of the plant were these bumps. Bumps? Hmm...upon closer examination I saw they were teeny-weeny worms. Okay, time to change plans. I'm using the recipie from the DIY site which is 1/2 cup chili flakes and one pint water, strain the chili flakes and spray on leaves. The treatment calls for two spray sessions two to three days apart, and I hope it helps because as you can see the cauliflower is starting to appear!!

Going Home

Today Paul and I went to mom's house to check out her old compost tumbler. I saw it last somewhere in the early '90s in the back yard. Mom wasn't sure what condition it was in, but it was ours if we wanted it. I hadn't been in the back yard since my son was little. After dad died we didn't barbecue much, the grandkids were too old for Easter egg hunts, and there just wasn't much reason to go out the back door anymore. Mom warned us that it was a mess. She hasn't been able to keep up like she used to, and everything was overgrown. I know her kids have tried for years to offer help, but she's a stubborn one -- wants to do it all herself. The shed is falling down, the trees need to be cut back, the ivy is slowly overtaking the spot where her cherry tree used to be but we know better than to insist too much. When mom says no, she means no.

As we walked down the deck steps I noticed she was right -- everything was overgrown, and it was beautiful, magical even. The overgrown trees with their unchecked canopy shaded the yard, plants and bushes sent their scraggly branches in a desperate search for the the sun, and the lawn reduced to a mowed path that encircled the garden. Even the weeds were luscious and green. We stood in the garden for a good while pointing out trees, bushes and plants to Paul telling stories of where and when, and remembering.

I wouldn't change one thing.

One Man's Trash?

The house was so warm when I woke up this morning (72 degrees inside and 62 degrees outside). After opening up some of the windows, closing shades on the others, and turning on the fans I was too jittery to sit so I cleaned the kitchen. Did the dishes, cleaned the counter, and wiped down the ledge above the kitchen sink. This is no small task because I have it covered with knick-knacks, clutter, whatever you want to call them. My dad called them dust collectors and they are. They may be a jumbled assortment of odds and ends to other people (you couldn't call it a collection really) but they are really reminders of people and places that are important to me. There's an amber glass that sat on the kitchen window ledge at my mother-in-law's house in Spokane. Rose has been gone almost two years now, and when I look at the glass I can picture her kitchen with the green and white wallpaper and the border of cafe scenes done in pink and green. I can imagine the smell of rising heat and pine sap from the back yard. I have a small Sea World mug that Lisa bought on the trip she took to California with Anne and her grandma and grandpa. I had given the girls matching backpacks to take on their trip filled with lip gloss, fingernail polish, and some spending money. There's a ceramic owl that belonged to Jean, my sister-in-law's mom who died from cancer almost ten years ago. The owl sits on the tin Paul and I purchased in San Francisco. The tin is packed with almost every slip of paper we've removed from a fortune cookie. I have little "presents" stored in a bowl: Pat's lost marble, Kevin's arrowhead, the glass beads that Lisa made me, and the crystal stopper from a bottle of Austrian wine that so fascinated Paul (there was no cork, just the stopper). The Asian spoon that holds my ring while I do the dishes. The glass heart bought on our trip to Canon Beach where we celebrated my 40th birthday. The bottle opener Paul won at The Red Hot. The button I wore as a delegate during the 2008 State Democratic Convention.

Knick-knacks, clutter, dust collectors, whatever you want to call them they are certainly not junk. They're reminders that I've lived a good life, I've known good people, and every day I remember.

Local Milk

I saw a post on Facebook (I think from Whitney) that Metro Market had milk in glass bottles from a dairy in Lynden, Twin Brook Creamery. I was surprised to find it cost less (even with the deposit) than the Organic Valley milk I buy at Fred's, and it tastes better. This week they were out of 2% so I tried the 1% -- delicious and still creamy! The half and half works nicely to wean myself from the nasty vanilla flavored fake creamer.

Hard to believe I'm this excited about milk, but you really need to try it!

A Half Hour, I Promise!

A half hour Paul said. That's all he would need to do some weeding in the front bed. I thought, hmm, half hour -- I could thin out the front maple. Of course a half hour turned into two hours, but we made some good progress. Paul has 95% of the weeding done. I thinned the maple, rhododendron, and cleaned up a bunch of plants. I also hacked away at my nemesis the burning bush. I don't know the correct name, but I call it the burning bush. In the summertime it's thick and green with tiny yellow flowers -- beautiful. In the early fall the leaves turn blood red -- beautiful. Then in the late fall through the winter it's a bunch of twigs -- not so beautiful. I never knew what to do with the bush so I've let it go. It was about four feet in diameter when Paul and I married, and now it's about eight feet in diameter so I'm slowly trimming it back.

Now that so much of the bed is cleaned up we'll have to find some plants to fill in the gaps. It was amazing to see the bleeding hearts coming back. Anne and Lisa gave them to me for Mother's Day about eight years ago, and I haven't seen them for about six years. Even the Jack in the Pulpit I planted around the same time has reappeared. There's a mystery plant that we'll let live another week before we decide if it's a plant or a weed.

We're making some progress on our yard one weekend at a time. Maybe this will be the year when we finally put a retaining wall around the bed.

Paul models for the camera.

Before...

And after!

Garden Haircut

I always forget to take the "before" picture until after. I was almost done with the Spinach before I caught myself, so I was able to get a shot of my lettuce before they received their haircuts.


We went to the Proctor Market yesterday, and I just couldn't resist a few purchases to add to our garden. I had promised Paul no more additions but he was a good sport, and agreed to these two. So I am pleased to announce that we are now the proud owners of a Negronne Fig tree and a Mary Washington Asparagus plant. Both of which will grow quite happily in containers according to the lovely man from Calendula -- can't wait!

Tonight Paul wants to barbecue but I'm thinking spinach salad. Hmm...with thin slices of red onion, a few bacon sprinkles, a sliced egg and an herbed goat cheese vinaigrette along with a few slices of River Valley Ranch cheese, and a loaf of french bread from the Upper Crust, yum! And that's what's for dinner tonight folks!

New Favorite Summer Salad

This month's Sunset Magazine had a recipe for Asparagus Summer Salad which I had to try. Luckily Paul had purchased some asparagus at the Proctor Farmers Market, and we actually had the rest of the ingredients on hand. Well except for the Feta which we substituted with some herbed goat cheese (oh, the sacrifices we make). I was excited to snip all the herbs for the salad from our garden -- basil, chives and cilantro. This was such a yummy salad, you have to try it:

Asparagus Summer Salad

2 lbs. thick asparagus cut into 2 inch pieces

2 tbsp each fresh lemon juice and Dijon mustard

3 tbsp olive oil

1/4 cup each each (we didn't measure) chopped fresh basil, chives, and cilantro

1 cup (we used 1/2 the onion) thinly sliced red onion

3/4 cup (we used 1/2 cup) toasted pine nuts

2 oz. feta cheese crumbled (we used herbed goat cheese)

1/2 tsp each salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Bring a large saucepan of water to a boil. Drop asparagus into water and cook until bright green and slightly softened, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain asparagus and rinse with very cold water until cool to the touch.

2. In a large bowl whisk together lemon juice, mustard, oil and herbs. Add asparagus, onion, pine nuts, feta, salt and pepper, and stir to combine.

Serves 6 (according to the recipe. Paul and I split the salad with a small loaf of crusty bread, and a nice bottle of wine.)

Memorial Day Weekend

Some people like to get away for the holiday. Others plan gatherings and barbecues in the comfort of their decks and yards. Paul's plan was to bring home the laptop to prepare for the financial meeting he has tomorrow. Luckily I was able to steal him away for a few side trips.

Saturday was busy, tiring and fun. We rode our bikes down to the Proctor Farmers Market, about a five mile ride. We could have bought one of everything there, but luckily we remembered we didn't bring the car and settled on some cheese, asparagus, and baby bok choy. After we dropped off the groceries we headed to Tacoma Wine Merchant to pick up our wine club selections (and a few other bottles too). The weather was so glorious we didn't want to go back home so we headed off to Dukes for a late lunch and some water gazing. For dinner Paul barbecued a couple steaks along with the baby bok choy we purchased that morning. Then Heather and Rick surprised us with dessert which we enjoyed after a game of Scrabble (Rick won). They brought a growler of Oatmeal Stout (please correct me Heather, I know I didn't get the name right) which we had over vanilla ice cream -- a grown up (root)beer float. It was yummy!
Sunday we met Lynn for breakfast, and then did a "photo shoot" around the Bostwick Building. You'll hear about that later. Then we stopped at the Swiss to leave a card and some flowers in memory of Gayl Bertagni. When we returned home we set to weeding the front bed and building a small retaining wall on the side of our porch. Later that afternoon Kevin, Laura, and Jessica came over for a barbecue. We had shish-kabobs. It was a lovely day, but believe me I was ready for bed!

Monday started off slowly as we relaxed over coffee and pancakes. Paul decided to continue with the weeding while I started knitting some washcloths for Kevin. Then Paul set out to Salmon Beach to visit with the kids at their mom's house. I did some shopping, and we met up in time to throw together some dinner. We spread the last bag of mulch over the front bed and called it a day. Now all we need a vacation to recover from the three day holiday.