Fall can wait

I have heard some people say that fall is on the way. I have seen those big yellow buses full of the latest fads, back packs, Ipods and embarrassing hairstyles. I have seen the slight slant in the sunlight and the moon creeping in a little earlier each day. Sure, I have seen it all and I stand firmly in DENIAL. I refuse to accept the inevitable, the obvious. I will not begin bringing in the lawn furniture or put away the oscillating fan. Oh, I may not use the fan but it’s going to be right there if I need too. No dust is going to gather on those shiny blades, baby. I also refuse to pull out my sweaters and comforters for that fall cleaning. And I will not relinquish my sandals for fuzzy lined boots one minute before my toes are actually falling off my feet in little ice pellets.

We should have about another month and a half of very nice weather here in the Northwest and I plan to use every single second of it to its fullest. I am going to have my coffee out by the pond every morning where the sun will warm my skin till I am good and ready to leave. I will take naps in the hammock, falling asleep while looking up at deep blue skies. I will deadhead my flowers and firmly believe that they will bloom again and again. I am going to smell the mint and the rosemary letting their scents linger deep in my mind. The lavender will be brushed needlessly and regularly simply because it smells good. And the pineapple sage I will stroke like a new kitten because it smells good too.


I will thank every flower that bloomed in my garden this summer and remember how sweet the honeysuckle was as it scented the air by my front door. Bask in the way the roses glowed as they opened slowly to reveal their tender beauty. There will be smiles for the nasturtium and the poppies that exploded with color, for the delphiniums that graced the air with dramatic spires of blue and for the azure swath of cupids dart. Delight in the birds that filled the garden with their song and playful flight. Express gratitude for the frogs that serenaded us in the spring and kept the mosquitoes at bay all summer long.



There are so many things that make up summer each year. The trip to the beach, the way the lilies smelled in the evening or the way your hand felt in mine with the grass beneath my bare feet. There are weekend projects, trips to take and people to visit. Plus plenty of barbecues and pool parties to throw and attend. It seems that in summer everything is trying to get out there and live as much as it possibly can in the precious little time that it has. I guess we’re all like butterflies in this way. We only have right now so we had better make it good.
Let fall bring its delights and I will welcome it with open arms, but for right now, it’s still summer and I for one plan to leave nothing on the table. There is a hammock calling me.

So what have you been doing?

I got to thinking that I sure hadn't been doing much lately. It had been insanely hot and sunny at 107 degrees last week. Then it became cool and rainy at a silly 61 degrees this week. No wonder we wear wool socks with sandals and parkas with shorts up here. We honestly don't know if it's coming or going. It's not that we want to be prepared; its just that we're completely confused.

No this has absolutely nothing to do with the hummingbird picture. (it is pretty cool though isn't it?) This does have to do with the picture of the single chair looking down the pathway however. That is where I was sitting when I began to think I had been far to focused on the darn weather. I sat there watching the birds flit from feeder to feeder through the garden and I thought "what the heck have I been doing?" I wondered if I had accomplished even half of the grand plans I had made for summer while shoveling three feet of snow off the steps in December.

I began to run down the list in my mind. Had I done this, had I done that? Did I get that new bed started and planted, did I repaint the deck or clean out the garage? The list went on and though I was certain that I must have been a total lazy bum, each item could be checked off. Still there was the nagging feeling that something big had been left undone, something important. And so I sat there and thought some more.

The garden was looking good. I had managed to do that. The deck was painted, the garage cleaned and I had even managed to work in the studio on a daily basis again. So what was missing? Why the nagging feeling that the summer was slipping away and I hadn't gotten something done? It should have been so obvious but I missed it anyway. I had not relaxed. I had not let go. It finally dawned on me that I had worried about something or other that had to be done, accomplished, completed and managed at ever turn. That is not to say that I did not feel joy or happiness. Or that I did not feel summer glory laying on a hammock in the shade of a tree or smelling the flowers with the sun on my face. No, it is to say that while I was doing all that I was also running the constant mental program of "what's not good enough" in the back of my mind.

The nagging bit of undone business was that I had not really unplugged from "me" and recharged. I had not let go of last year or even the year before. I was still looking for what's next and not what's now. I had not made a trip to the ocean to sink my toes into the sand. I had not driven out to the vast wheat fields on the Eastern side of the state to watch them sway in the wind. I had not even gone up into the high mountains to look out into the big sky. The summer was nearly over and I still had not made myself feel small.

You see, the most important thing I always want to get out of summer is not completed projects or barefooted fun but to remember what it is to be insignificant and yet profoundly important. The way the ocean makes you feel when the crashing waves roll in and you know the they have been doing that since the dawn of time and they'll keep on doing that long after you're gone. The way you feel when you look up into the Milky Way and see worlds beyond measure and realize that you are on one of those tiny specks too. I need to feel the rest of the universe around me like you feel the cool grass between your toes.

Summer is for living and rejoicing in life. It's for reminding you that you have a place in the whole swirling mass of existence. And it's about having the courage and willingness to live each day like it is was the only day... and that day was summer.

Technology and the Summer Wimp

So it is official. We have broken the misery records here in our cool misty environs. Records going back to 1891 according to Jeff Renner of local King 5 News. Why, they have even issued excessive heat warnings. Just in case you couldn't figure out on your own that it was TWO MILLION DEGREES outside. But hey, you can never be too well informed.

In honor of the Great SeaScorcher of '09 I have decided to remind myself of what a difference a few months and a few million degrees can make. Ahh, snow...

Anyway, it managed to reach 107 degrees today here in the cool piny northwest. That's right it was the same as Phoenix. Well by golly, it's like I never left! ugh.

I am up the side of a mountain about 1,000 feet so they tell me that it was actually actually hotter here! Like I needed that helpful tidbit of information. I pretty much figured that out the instant it reached 104 degrees and the power went out. That's right, just as I was complimenting myself on finding balance with the heat wave all the little things that I had in my arsenal of defense simply went silent. Just blip, nothing, Nada. The praise I heaped upon myself this morning for finally getting the pond water cleared up from the last fiasco on a scorching hot day, gone. Melted away just like the ice cubes two minutes after I plopped them into my tea. Gone was my smug satisfaction that the ice water spritzing combined with the fan on high was sure to keep me cool. Gone were my breaks into the cooler office to check the web for new ways to avoid working. All of it gone, just like that.

My stomach sank as I heard the last dribble of water come down the bio falls and stream beds. I was certain I could hear the algae dying and turning brown up there, the little fishes gasping for breath. The brand new smooth white plastic fan mocked me with its idle blades and plug tongs firmly in place inside the dead outlet. My ice water spritz bottle had gone warm, the ice melted away along with my hope. My survival looked iffy. The dogs even worse.

And then just as my panic was mounting modern technology and the power company's greed kicked in. Lights came on, microwaves beeped, water began to flow down the streams and my glorious shiny new white plastic fan began to twirl its miraculous blades again. I could hear the fishes sighs of relief. I rushed right in and filled up my spritzer with ice and plunked more snowy cubes into my tea glass. It was a glorious moment for modern technology and skimpy breathable Cotton clothing!

Tomorrow is supposed to be another toaster and all I can say is that I have my spritzer in the fridge and several bags of cool crispy ice cubes in the freezer. Why I may even have a few items I need to pick up in the frozen food section at my local grocery store. I don't know what those things might be so I may have to spend some extra time there thinking about it.

The Great SeaScorcher of '09

Yup, it was the great SeaScorcher of aught 9.

Well our little heat wave had me running to the porch for cover and some electric fan action. It really is the humidity that does me in. You just can’t get cool with that. Living in Phoenix I could take the 125 degree temps it reached the year I left and only remark that it seemed a “little hotter today” but that was a dry heat. Someone from Phoenix should kick me now for having said that. In the Pacific Northwest we have been doing our level best to break heat and whine records and I like to think I am doing my part to help out with that. It may well be 100 or more tomorrow and I have been practicing my whining for days now so I'm all ready to go.

I gave up painting in the outdoor studio which had become a sauna and moved some stuff up to the porch which is at least in the shade all day. For any of you not familiar with the PNW weather we are a temperate climate and can expect a week or two of high temps in late July but not like this. This is just stupid weather assuming that weather could in any way be considered intelligent that is.

I am so very grateful that it cools off so much at night. In Phoenix the high concrete, asphalt ratio made evening cool down a quaint theory. You couldn't sit on the cement steps without burning your behind off. A primary concern in everyone’s mind during the summer months was the fear of a car accident in which you were thrown from the vehicle onto the molten hot asphalt only to lie there helpless and in agony. That fear of course came after the scorching antics of getting into your super heated metal oven of a vehicle and trying to drive it without actually touching anything. And yes, it is true; you can actually fry an egg on the sidewalk. It is a rite of passage for all Desert Rat children.

So you see I have earned my right to whine because I have already done my time. The year it hit 125 degrees Sky Harbor airport shut down because as it was revealed later, they had never actually tested the airplanes for those temperatures. They never expected to have to fly in them. The catch is that for the rest of us running around in that heat back then it just “seemed a little hotter” that day. Nothing special, just a little hotter.

I guess I have a different perspective on the weather. I am still making up for a lot of hot dry years in the desert. I don’t want to be cheated out of a pleasant 75 degrees with the occasional rain to water my plants. I don’t want to have to think about planting decorative gravel instead of grass or cacti instead of fuchsia. I already had that. I want lush cool greens like they promised me when I crossed the border and they handed me my complimentary latte` and rain gear. Apparently I need frequent watering.

Smart dog and "Sketchy" the frog.

This was not actually rain but what my neighbor referred to as a "dampening" not truly raining but rather dampening the rocks. sigh. Still, it looked pretty and not everything is wilting or whining. No matter how much I am.

Summertime Perfection

It was a perfect Friday afternoon and I was off to Home Depot to search for compost destined plants when I was suddenly shocked into sheer joy by this sight!

This song was playing and it was the most perfect summer moment I think I have ever seen. It filled the summer air. (Edited: since this is an older post the songs have been moved to the end of the play list now but please do make the effort to listen to them. They start with "Dancing in the Moonlight" by Toploader. It really makes the whole moment! )

This river is just down the hill from us. It takes three whole minutes to drive down. I timed it. I have a kayak. Kind of silly I suppose that I was so moved by this little happening along the river today. Maybe I just haven't lived in the country long enough to take this for granted. Perhaps it was the lack of drugs and alcohol or rap music that made this look so wholesome as if to belong to another era. They were actually listening to these songs! Either way I was happy for the innocent summer moment and for my handy camera.

A couple minutes down the road I stopped at this red barn. There is a land use proposal sign up where there used to be Hot Apple Cider signs. They boasted the best apple cider for miles. They may have been right.

The place appears to be empty and abandoned now. Perhaps a victim of the economic turns. When we used to take our meandering drives out this way before moving here I admired this place with it's red barns and promise of fresh apple cider. I am sorry to see it empty. I just loved knowing that it was here. Much like the kids on the bridge. I just loved knowing that this was in the world. I think I need to know that this in the world.


Now when you think of it how many actual working weather vanes do you see anymore? Progress is a wonderful thing but there is a melancholy that comes with saying goodbye to the past, to our youth. That would be the thorn that touched my heart when I came across the bridge party. It gave me comfort and hope to see that those things still exist even when they seem to disappear.

For now I keep working on the locks that close out the past and shut off the future. It's somewhere in between the fence posts that I'm shooting for.

It is 3 AM now and I am going to sleep like a dog. I am going to sleep like I mean it.

It has been very hot here in the PNW for the past few days. We just aren't used to this kind of thing and begin whining when we don't get rain daily. Well, that's a wee bit of an exaggeration. This has just been an unusual season. Spring was unusually warm and dry and then it just jumped right into full blown summer. We can expect a week or so in late July to reach upper 80s and to be dry but we have already done that and then some a few times already and it is only the 4th.


I have been watering my little gravel beds with dedicated consistency and they are doing just fine. Since there isn't any water table at all beneath them they have a hard time staying moist in this kind of heat. The beds in the back have a very good water table and I have not had to water them once this season! I am hopeful that one day after years of adding soil to the front beds that they will develop something of a moisture trap. I can hope can't I? Until then I have decided the hose actually does belong in the driveway and not neatly coiled up somewhere. I have started thinking of ways to decorate it so that it becomes a piece of garden art. Like some sort of colorful interactive garden snake. The design department is currently working on some ideas.

The other day I added a new impossible bed. Plant pocket is more accurate. Since everything is bedrock I have to find all kinds of ways to create water table substitutes. This is onto of the big rock that I am turning into a second waterfall. I lined the area with black plastic and built up with rock to form walls. Then filled it with a layer of driveway gravel from the trench project. I used some scavenged dirt from the hill side and a good helping of a very rich dirt mix I made a couple weeks ago. The made dirt was a mix of peat moss, homegrown compost, manure, bagged compost, chopped organic matter and some clay like fill dirt for binder.

I have planted it with a variegated Ivy, various trailing sedum, Candy tuft and Alyssum. Right now I think it looks to "round" but then again the rock is bowl shaped there. What can you do? I am thinking that as the plants fill in the roundness of it will diminish and it will look more naturally blended in. I still have to figure out what to do with the foam sealant at the bottom where the rock and liner meet up. Another day, another project.

I hope to make some time tomorrow to post updates on the gravel trench bed. I'll probably do that when I slink inside to avoid the heat of the day. I am such a wuss.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Fourth of July. This is a great country we live in!