Blueberry Stars

Some blueberries have five pointed stars in the blossom end.







We came home from our trip to a heavily loaded crop of blueberries.
Kerplink, Kerplank, Kerplunk.

We also came home to some rather muscular zuchinni and some ripe tomatoes. The big guys found their way to the compost pile and the tomatoes found their way immediately to our mouths.

Ruby Jelly

I've always wanted to try those recipes that call for liquifying currant jelly - now I can. My beautiful currant bush produced about 2 gallons of fruit. That fruit made about four batches of jelly. Help me remember to bring some when I come to visit.

Yes, I know I could have tried those lovely tart recipes long ago with store bought jelly. I just don't buy store bought jelly. David makes fabulous marmalade and our raspberries are productive enough for jelly during the first week of July when they bear their heaviest. And blackberries grow wild on the ditch bank and this town used to be known for it's strawberry farms (all houses now) and there are still some great locally grown berries. (If all you've been eating is supermarket berries from California, Mexico, etc.... I am truely sorry) Living in "berry land" makes buying jams and jellies very unnecessary.

I have also learned to layer plants to start new ones. My currant bush has been the parent plant for several clones. I have given most away, but have kept one that just began to bear this year. In a couple of years it too should be mature enough to be loaded with fruit.

Food Dreams

I don't normally dream about food. I only a "foodie" by marriage and parenthood and I had food dreams the other day. Ahhh this was so good I have to share. No pictures - sorry about that - we ate it all and went back for seconds. Though the recipe calls it a salad we ate it like it was a main dish. This is a meal that won't heat up your kitchen as it takes almost no heat.
The recipe, in it's original form, came from a column in the usaweekly magazine by Pam Anderson. There is room for lots of variation.

Moroccan Couscous & Chickpea Salad.
1 cup couscous
1/2 cup dried cherries (you could substitute, craisins, golden raisins, or cut dried apricots)
1 cup boiling water

Pour boiling water over couscous and dried cherries, cover and let sit for about 5 minutes

2 T olive oil
1 Large orange bell pepper, cut to bite size pieces (we used a red pepper)
1 Large onion, halved and sliced thinly (we used a Walla Walla so it was a sweet flavor, a red Burmuda would be pretty, and notice that the recipe doesn't call for a sweet onion)
1 1/2 tsps. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

Heat Olive oil in skillet over medium-high heat. Add peppers and onions. Saute for about 5 minutes. Add spices and salt and pepper as they cook. Add this mixture to the couscous and cherries.

1 16 oz. can chickpeas, drained

Add the chickpeas to the couscous mixture.


3 T olive oil
3 T rice wine vinegar
3 T orange juice concentrate

Whisk these ingredients together and pour over salad. Toss to coat.

Makes six side dish servings.

We ate this at room temperature.
DER took the left overs the next day after they had been in the fridge. He reports that they were OK.

The recipe called for chopped fresh cilantro - we left this for last in order to cater to our individual preferences. DER likes it and I'm not so fond of it.

2000 miles and worth it!

We returned a couple of days ago from a memorable trip. We went to Rexburg to meet our first granddaughter. K & M had a baby girl they named Sally Elizabeth. She was born on 7 June 2009 and weighed in at 7 lbs. 8 oz. We think she looks like her daddy though her hair doesn't look like it's going to be red - time will tell. As you can see she is a beautiful little girl. What you can't see is that she has a sweet nature.

DER and S stayed a day in the burg then left me to hopefully be useful and went on down the road to see the older sons and "the grands" - I missed seeing the rest of the family but loved the extra time I got with the baby and K & M. K & M are going to be good parents.

We are smitten.

I love summer

Reasons to love Summer

1. Eating from the garden. Starting with the Aspargus which doesn't need anything on it if you eat it right after you pick it. It's season is almost over. It is time to let the stalks grow to nuture next years wonderfulness. Please note my well composted bed. Also note that the fennell seeds that sprouted from the compost have been removed. There were probably a couple thousand fennell seedlings. Sigh.... compost just doesn't get hot enough around here to decompose those tough little seeds.


2. Eating from the garden deserves more than one spot. The Rhubarb season starts with DER's birthday pie near the end of April. The Rhubarb is wonderful and doesn't need as much sugar as some varieities. This variety, whose name is long forgotten, gives so generously and is lacking that "green rhubarb" flavor that so many people dislike. We've had a couple of pies and a cobbler and given some away to rhubarb fans in our acquaintance. The plant is still vigourous and does well in this cool summer climate in the Northwest. We'll be eating rhubarb goodies most of the summer and have some put away in the freezer for rhubarb cake through the winter months. Yummmmmy.

3. The bees are energetically buzzing the raspberry and blue berry plants - more wonderfulness to look forward too.

4. Sleeping with the windows open and hearing bird song when I wake up.

5. Western Tanagers have been flitting in the alder tree with their bright orange heads, which are amazingly well camouflaged for orange.

6. The "fluff" of the cottonwood trees drifting down like a warm snow and gathering along the edges of our world.

7. The need to weed seems to slow down.

8. Eating outside

9. and .... best for almost last....Long daylight hours, especially in the morning - and most especially when I am teaching seminary and it is day light instead of dark night.

10. and .... "bestest for lastest"..... Those long road trips to see various family members that this year, for the first time, will include a grand child. Yipppeee!

Changing Traditions - Suiattle River Road Hike

What Makes these holes in the bark?

Why are these sentences underlined? hmmm?












Our long standing memorial day tradition has been to go to Seattle for the Folk Life Festival. We've enjoyed music and dancing and crafts from around the world - and great street food. Our observation in recent years has been that Folk Life is a great place to be if the weather is a little bad. Too many people come out to the festival if the weather is good. Today was a great weather day for the Northwest - almost hot for a few hours in mid-afternoon. So we didn't go to Folk LIfe. We went hiking instead.




DER found a hike appropriate for our winter conditioning. Along the Suiattle River is a road that is not longer accessible to cars. Because the trail is a former road bed, you don't have to watch where you place your feet, the trail is companionable wide and being near the river there is not much elevation gain.

Inspite of the moss in the pictures, it was not as damp as we would expect for here, but it was nice to be out before the trailside plants get covered with dust. We went about two and half miles up the trail to a campground that is not longer accessible and speculated on what a good beginners backpacking trip this would be with kids. You could even bike in to the campsite with only a few portages. One portage for a cattle guard and one for a large muddy puddle. The river has washed out the road in a few places so parents would want to be sharp eyed and do appropriate shepherding of little ones. The pictures above and below show the first road wash-out and the creek near the campground.
Of course I'm remembering the camping trip with a crawling Nathan near a river. I didn't enjoy it much - too worried that he'd crawl right off the little bluff into the river. And we try to forget the messiness of crawlers in the dusty dirt of your usual campsite. So maybe not a trip for toddlers, but still a possibly good trip for kids.

The rural meadows on the way were yellowed with shining buttercup and the yellow iris that loves wet lands was in bloom. The drive was as good as the hike.

Leading and Following

David has a friend at work who has started ballroom dancing with his wife. They invited us to a "dance party" - another name for a sales pitch, but it included a group lesson on the fox trot and an evening of dancing. We agreed to sign up for the five dollar intro lessons which included one group lesson (swing) and two individual lessons for us as a couple. We asked them to teach us the rumba and give us some tips on leading and following. The teacher was sweet and helpful. The group lesson in contrast to the first group lesson did not have any men with alcoholic courage, so it was better. Group lessons mean you rotate around to all the possible dance partners in the room. It made me appreciate my husband, who smiles sweetly, smells clean (in more ways than one), looks at you instead of the floor, doesn't step on your toes, and recognizes the beat of the music ...... In spite of the unpleasantries of the first group lesson, we did enjoy ourselves and it was good to have someone help us a little bit.

For years, I've been complaining that DER doesn't lead because he expects all dances to be like folk dances with a set pattern of steps that both dancers know. He counter complains that I cuddle up too close for him to effectively lead. The teacher helped us do better. My cuddling prevented the tension necessary and he often forgot to lead or didn't know when to give the cue. I wonder where else in life tension is necessary.

Of course, after the short series of $5 lessons, they try to lead you into signing up for more lessons at the regular price by making it awkward to decline. We declined - hopefully with enough kindness and sensitivity that the teacher didn't feel like it was about her as a teacher. But we might think about doing a short series of lessons some other time. Now if we could just find a place to dance more often so we develop some kinesthetic memory.