It started out as a nice, quiet dinner with another couple at a local bistro. Somehow the conversation turned to the increasing difficulties of which personal pronoun is preferred by any random person. Zoom (and probably many others) have even added the option for you to state which pronoun you desire others to use when conversing with or about you. As we continue to experience increasing levels of genderless clothing and hairstyles and lifestyles, it rapidly becomes apparent that he/his, she/hers, etc, is an antiquated form of speech.
During the dinner, I proposed an entirely gender-free personal pronoun – the word niH. As a symbol of non-conformity, the last letter will be capitalized, as well as give a clue as to the pronunciation of this word. As an added benefit, the word is so amorphous it lends itself to a wide variety of situations, and is very flexible in usage. “That waitperson is great. niH really does a good job!” “niH said it’s time to go now.” “Whose turn is it? Oh, it’s niHs.”
In the course of the conversation, a question arose: “What is the plural of niH?” Hmmm, that made me think … so, is there a plural of (using oldspeak) she? Well, I guess a gathering of she-persons would be women. Using that as a guideline, it seems like niHen (both “men” and “women” end in “en”) would make the most sense.
Now, there is no way I can make this go viral by myself. I need a strong team I can depend on, and so I am founding the Royal Order of the Knights of niH. This may ring a bell for some of you; to see the Monty Python inspiration for the Knights of niH, check it out HERE. We will recognize each other by wearing a very small shrubbery – like a spring of Thyme – pinned to the lapel.
A couple of weeks ago we were at our last larger Skagit Friends of Wine gathering for the year, and I related to one of our friends an image that had taken over my thoughts. We had a wonderful spring and summer and early fall, but now the days are rapidly getting shorter, the temperatures colder, and the rains heavier and more frequent. And with the Delta variant running rampant, our storm warning flags were flapping crazily in the winds of change, warning of extreme danger. Time to retreat to the castle, fill the moat, and pull up the drawbridge. The image that came to my mind was of a tunnel that I was being compelled to enter; a long, dark tunnel with no light at the end, and no end in sight. “That’s DARK”, my friend said and gave me a … look.
It had been so wonderful to emerge from our hibernation, albeit slowly and cautiously, after we got our vaccination. We took our 4,000 mile road trip detailed here. Terri started our wine-tasting group Skagit Friends of Wine with the goal of making new friends, and boy, did it succeed! And we met lots of new people, like us, looking for friends, and we connected and formed a new little community. It truly felt bad to have to revert to our self-imposed exile in an effort to keep ourselves safe and healthy. Then, to top it off, we found out that whatever level of immunity we had gotten from the vaccine was waning.
But then, a crack in the clouds appeared. In real life, when a small hole appears in the omnipresent cloud cover in the PNW, many of us locals call it a Blue Hole, and it brings an moment of joy. The first Blue Hole was being able to get a booster shot for our vaccine, which should buy us an extra three to six months of enhanced protection. YAY! And then we read that the chances of a vaccinated person getting COVID from a breakthrough case from another vaccinated person were super low. Another yay! That opens up a whole new realm of possibilities to get together with friends over the winter. But wait, there’s more! Both King and Jefferson Counties are now mandating proof of vaccination or recent negative COVID test for indoor dining. What? We have not dined indoors at a restaurant since late February, 2020, and now (in those counties) we can? Suddenly that tunnel is looking pretty short and well-lit.
And then for the icing on the cake, opportunities came up for us to spend a week at the Oregon coast soon, and several days in Leavenworth in February for snowshoeing and (possibly) cross-country skiing. And maybe – just maybe – even an early spring trip to Sonoma. Yeah, not holding my breath on that one, but you never know.
My vision of that long, black tunnel had given me tunnel vision about the future. But right at this exact moment, as I am writing this, the sun is breaking out from the clouds, spreading its joyous light to my eyes and my heart. My tunnel vision has been replaced by Blue Holes, popping up unexpectedly here and there. Here’s hoping that you are experiencing our own personal “Blue Holes” and moments of joy during these crazy times.
You may be aware that my Instagram account name is Adventures In Aging, which was what this blog was supposed to be all about. My goal is to be fully aware, and fully alive to every moment I have left is this beautiful, crazy world. And with that, here’s my latest adventure.
I’ve been blessed with super-sharp vision and awareness my whole life, getting down to the 20/15 line on the eye exam charts. Having said that, I’ve worn glasses for decades, but primarily because I was selling glasses, and that made me more relatable to those who needed to buy them. And, like everyone else in the world, when I hit my mid-40’s I needed them to be able to read and work on the computer, and a wee bit of correction for distance, which still enabled me to see 20/15.
Then about three weeks ago as I was getting ready for bed, I noticed some bright flashes of light in the outer periphery of my right eye. I knew right away what it was – a Posterior Vitreous Detachment. My wife had just had one a couple of weeks before, and I was aware of them from my years working for optometrists. Generally not an alarming situation, but disconcerting, as well as being unhappy with the new, large, circular and very visible floater in my eye.
So, to be on the safe side, I went in, got my eye dilated and checked out by the doctor. Nothing to be concerned about, but if you notice anything “off”, come back in; sometimes the vitreous will continue to pull away from the retina, and need to be “welded” back on with laser surgery. Bill, you got almost all the letters on the 20/25 line, not bad for a guy your age with developing cataracts. 20/25? Really? That’s a HUGE change from the 20/15 last year!
So, it’s about time for my annual eye exam; I called and the first available appointment is a whole month away! So now I’m in limbo – is my vision loss in both eyes, or just the one with the PVD? Is the loss due to the PVD, cataracts, or some combination? I can definitely tell my vision is NOT what i’m used to, and it sucks, and I have no idea if it will improve with time, new glasses and/or (when it’s time) with cataract surgery.
So, up, up and away on a new Adventure in Aging! Stay tuned …
I’m quite sensitive to smoke, due to an asthma-type condition, so we have a good-sized, highly effective air purifier, plus a 20’ box fan with a furnace filter bungee-corded to the back. Looking outside, not only were our nearby hills invisible, but even the houses just across the street were hazy. We had to cancel plans to get together with friends today. BUT. Our little town has not burned to the ground. We have not had to evacuate our home, and flee for our lives. We’ve not even been under an evacuation alert (although after last year, we do have a bugout box packed, and near the car in the garage).
Anyhow, with the tune becoming an earworm, it made me remember when I first became environmentally aware, a couple of years before this song in 1970, about how even then the science forecast our situation today. Then I was reminded about another song:
I love the imagery of the lyrics; wasting our time in trivial pursuits every day, sleeping like babies while where we sleep – the earth – is burning more ferociously than ever. And we may need to make some sacrifices to save what’s left of our world. But then I saw a rabbit trail, and off I went!
MANY years ago, I got an “award” from my workplace for being “The Idea Guy.” My brain has a hard time shutting off, and it keeps coming up with ideas, some of which are actually viable. Two or three years ago, I had an idea to start a local wine-tasting group that would travel near and far to enjoy the camaraderie of tasting wines together. For whatever reason, it never came to fruition.
This June, as we emerged from a year and a half from self-imposed exile from society, we realized that with our close friends having moved away, we really wanted to find some new people to be friends with. We half-heartedly tossed around a few ideas that quickly died on the vine. Then, on June 22, Terri posted this on the Nextdoor Neighbor app:
“ Do you like wine? My husband and I are tossing around the idea of getting a group going for people who enjoy socializing over a glass of wine. We are thinking that outings tasting at local wineries, backyard gatherings, “blind” tastings, establishing new friendships, etc would be fun. Does this sound interesting to anyone else?”
It did. She had 32 “neighbors” from Skagit County reply that they loved the idea … including a local winemaker who volunteered to host a tasting at his vineyard and winery. Working with Chuck and his wife Donna from Skagit Crest Winery, we came up with a plan to host around 20 people at their winery. We would taste all 11 of their wines, and they would provide a charcuterie “plate” (actually a huge table overflowing with food) for a minimal charge. We set a date, and went to work to see how this might play out in real life.
First thing we did was to either directly reply to everyone who had liked or commented on Terri’s post, or private message them asking for their email addresses, and we got 17 responses (about 32 people). We sent an invitation to the tasting to each of them, and ended up with pretty much maxing the facility out.
And it all came together and worked. The site was incredible, with views across the Skagit Valley to the Salish Sea and Olympics. The winery building had been transformed into an elegant setting, replete with stainless steel fermenting tanks, cases of wine, and linen covered tables. Our hosts started by taking us to their vineyard, and detailing the incredible amount of work it takes to grow great grapes to make fabulous wine. I was surprised to see that half of their vines were planted to Pinot Noir, not a varietal seen often this far north and west. We moved back to the winery, where they shared their story about how the winery came to be, the wines they make, and the medals their wine has won. Then the tasting commenced, and I was impressed by nearly every one of their wines.
But the primary reason for this gathering was to meet people and potentially make new friends. We quite enjoyed the two couples at our table, and it appeared that there was good conversation going on at the other tables as well. Once the tasting was complete, most of the attendees stayed to buy some wine, and several of us took advantage of the offer to buy a glass of wine and move to the patio for more conversation and views of the valley. We were the first to arrive, and the last to leave, thrilled by the apparent success of our first event.
How will this all end up? Who knows, but we already have almost totally filled up our next event, and have more in the works – one of which will be an evening cruise on the Salish Sea on a 70’ yacht one of our members has offered for the group to use. And maybe – just maybe – we will find another couple or two who are also looking to become great friends.
Mesa Verde Cliff Dwellings At some point, the ancestral pueblo peoples moved from the mesa tops to below in sheltered alcoves. Most likely it was for protection, as the Ute and Navajo peoples started encroaching on their territory. These were very defensible spaces, but I can’t begin to imagine how much work it was to build them. Huge stones were shaped and brought up the cliff faces, then big timbers had to be hoisted somehow. After they were built, they still had to descend using ladders and tricky footholds carved into the rock to grow their crops, hunt, and bring up water.
Mesa Verde Cliff-top Ruins A thousand years ago the ancestral people had a thriving culture. Kivas were the hub of the community; specific clans held religious rituals that kept the world in working order. The Hopi believe that this is the fourth world; they had been preserved from prior destruction’s in various ways. Most recently, they emerged from being sheltered underground by the Ant People through a Sipapu, which is represented by one of the holes in the floor of the kiva.
Desert Gardens Fall in red rock country has its beauty, but for me, I’ll take the spring. This is tough country in which to survive, much less thrive.
Snow Canyon State Park This was supposed to have been Zion National Park, but it’s so popular, no one goes there anymore. We drove through Zion, and identified off-the beaten-path opportunities for next time, but just couldn’t face the hot, crowded shuttles leading to crowded attractions. So, we checked out opportunities near our condo in St. George, UT, and found a promising lead. Checking it out, it was the perfect way to end the exploration part of our road trip. Red rock galore! We found a promising hike, but someone (probably a local, not wanting to share with outsiders) removed the cemented in cairns that marked the most confusing part of the trail. No worries, next trip we will allow more time – I’m positive we can route-find on our own to the connecting trail.
Well, that’s it! Like so much in life, the trip didn’t always go as planned or as we initially hoped, but it was a beautiful, wonderful trip. And now we’ve gotten to share it with you!
I’ve been struggling for a month on whether or not to write this post, as it seems quite gratuitous and self-congratulatory. However, a few of you who follow me on Instagram wanted more details and photos, so let’s go. PS: My first time trying this format. Unfortunately, landscape photos (like the missing sandhill cranes) can only be viewed correctly by clicking into the photo. Sorry
Days 1 & 2. Drive 10 hours to McCall, Idaho. Nestled by Payette Lake in a valley ringed with mountains filled with small ski resorts, the small downtown seems to have more ATV’s and pickup trucks than pedestrians. Our top picks: Ponderosa State Park, Salmon River Brewery and Bistro 45.
Days 3 & 4. McCall, Idaho to Wolf Creek (Eden, Utah). The road from McCall to Boise is spectacular following a twisty, turny stream that carves a steep canyon as it grows into a river. Leaving Boise, follow I-84 to Ogden, then turn left and climb through another crazy road to Eden. Again, there are several ski areas here; I’m guessing that they were all part of the Winter Olympics that were held in Utah years ago. We were right by Powder Ridge Ski Resort. It looks like they bulldozed the entire mountain, built lifts and a day lodge and restaurant at the very top, then built dozens (hundreds?) of luxury second homes all around. Snowbasin, on the other hand, is stunningly beautiful with verdant forests leading up to jagged, snow-covered peaks. Mountain bike paradise, and decent hiking. Dining out? Pizza, Mexican food or sandwiches. No beer allowed without a food order (this IS Utah…).
Days 5 & 6. Wolf Creek to Durango, CO, 425 miles, about 7 hours. We love the whole Moab area, but were on a mission to make it to Durango, but what a confusing route! At one point, I felt certain we actually driving in a circle, but we finally made it! Only had one full day in Durango at this point, due to last minute changes … well, if you read my last post, you know. We had fun just relaxing, enjoying the downtown, and being tourists.
Days 7, 8 & 9. Durango to Taos, New Mexico, 200 miles about 4 hours. Seriously, read my post about Maps vs. GPS. Short version; we had no idea the map app route would take us over the top of a 10,584’ mountain. Once in Taos, we tried to make contact with a friend we had made years ago at the Taos Pueblo, but it was closed to visitors due to COVID. I left a message at the guardhouse; later, Carpio contacted us, and we met him for coffee and a two-and-a-half hour conversation. He is a born storyteller, and had at least a years worth to share.
Sadly, Carpio lost his beautiful daughter Coral about a year ago. He is still trying to get her death properly investigated, but law enforcement generally does not have a good track record when it comes to indigenous females. He shared many other stories – his romance with a young Helen Mirren, detailed in her book “In the Frame: My Life in Words and Pictures “. The time when he worked with Peter Fonda while they were filming Easy Rider at Taos. Meeting Neil Young, and appearing in his movie Human Highway. And so much more. Can’t wait to read HIS autobiography!
Oh yeah, we also checked out the Earthships, dirt roads on the Taos Plateau, had one lousy New Mexican dinner, and one fabulous one, then left.
Day 10. Taos to Durango, back over Jawbone Mountain. A special section just for the drive over Jawbone. On the way back, I was determined to try and stop to capture some photographs of old line shacks and ranches we had seen on the way to Taos. When I was young, I read every book Zane Grey had written. For some reason, the small shacks cowboys spent the night in as they rode the huge ranches checking fences (and for rustlers) captured my imagination. It was a treat to see a few of these along the road, which had probably just been a narrow trail in bygone years. This place gets its own photo gallery.
Days 11 & 12. Mesa Verde planning pitfalls for Mesa Verde were detailed in “What I learned on our 4,000 mile road trip.” Regardless of our disappointment, Mesa Verde lived up to the expectations of being on our bucket lists for 50 years. If you are also entranced by the Pueblo/cliff dwelling culture, check out “Book of the Hopi” by Frank Waters, and “House of Rain” by Craig Childs. In addition to being able to see multiple sites, we got in a great desert hike which even included a small cliff structure/dwelling and pictographs.
You made it this far? Amazing! This has been quite a process for me, and as I was reviewing all the photos of this fabulous trip I haven’t touched, I’ve decided to split it into two parts. Still to come … cliff dwellings, mesa-top ruins, stunning desert flora and landscape, PLUS, at no extra charge, the red rock country of Snow Canyon near St. George, Utah.
I love planning ahead (this post talks about that a bit). I literally have pages of planning for this trip, and thought I had all the details covered. BUT, I missed a few very important details. First, we had hoped to join a guided tour of at least one of the pueblo dwellings at Mesa Verde. About a week too late, I discovered that two of the four possibilities would not even be open to tours until the end of May, after our departure. And for the two left, there was a very narrow window of opportunity to book, which we missed by about a week. On top of that, although I knew we would need to catch a shuttle to get into the main part of Zion National Park, those tickets also needed to be booked before I discovered that. LESSON 1: Research every last detail well in advance of your departure to avoid disappointment.
Late in the planning game, I found out two things: one of our planned destinations was much farther away from Mesa Verde than was really practical, and somehow I had a two-night gap in our overnight accommodations. So I coined a new motto: When your plans change, change your plans. So, I was able to put in a patchwork of stays, which ended up taking us to Taos for a couple of days (the results of that may find their way into a whole new post), and we added St. George to our itinerary. We had planned to visit Zion Valley, but the logistics just didn’t work out. Instead, acting on a tip from my sister Jae, we headed to Snow Canyon State Park, and enjoyed hiking the red rock country on slick rock, a joy beyond expressing for us. LESSON 2: Be flexible, and see what other opportunities arise when something doesn’t work out as planned.
Some of our best experiences were not of the grand vistas and big iconic names of the west, but in places only the locals may be aware of. For us, Ponderosa State Park, the dirt roads of Taos Mesa, hiking in the Snow Basin area, deer and cougar prints on Powder Mountain, and slickrock hiking in Snow Canyon showed us beauty we would have missed by going for the Big Attraction. Then, taking time for the tiny – plants with a bloom the size of my little fingernail blooming in the most inhospitable looking places. Watching tiny lizards slither quickly across hot desert sands. Spotting tiny bluebirds swiftly sailing the skies. Discovering microbreweries making exceptional beer: McCall Brewing, Steamworks Brewing Company, and Taos Mesa Brewing (BTW, they all sell “Crowlers” to go [a canned growler], but be warned they vary in size. I was stunned to get three 32 ounce crowlers from Taos Brewing when I expected 16 ounce). LESSON 3: Think “hidden”, think local, think small.
CHIRP. Unfortunately, I have a slight hearing loss, so I have to be right on top of most small birds to hear their call. But I’m not talking about that kind of chirp. We discovered this app/website that has tons of audio books we download onto my phone, and listen to when the miles get long. We were often in the car for 8 – 10 hour days, for multiple days this trip. Having a good mystery (or your choice of genres) to listen to can ease the tedium facing even the best of relationships. And they are really affordable, especially compared to Amazon! Check it out! LESSON 4: Avoid boredom with audiobooks.
Yes, I’m trying to get away from my previous vacation mantra of “Drive as far as you can, as fast as you can to get to (and from) your destination”. BUT. Stopping at a restaurant or fast food place for lunch on a road trip adds significantly to the overall drive time, adds significant expense, and brings in a ton of calories and sodium. Instead, we found a fabric lunch box with compartments for slim ice packs, and we pack a very small, basic meal. We choose to be very simple; flour tortillas with peanut butter, a sliced apple, and sometimes mozzarella cheese sticks for variety. Quick to make, easy to pack, easy to eat on the road, and economical. Not to mention flexible! We also often take this lunch out when we are exploring, find a spot to park with a fabulous view, and have our lunch in the car. LESSON 5: Pack a lunch.
I have no idea why it took me sooo long to figure this one out. This trip I packed our laptop and an HDMI cord. After the business of our vacation day, I power up the laptop, connect it to WIFI (either at the location, or via my Personal hotspot on my phone), connect the laptop to the TV with my HDMI cord, pull up Xfinity or Amazon prime, and watch our favorite shows instead of the junk available on the in-house choices. What a difference! LESSON 6: Bring your laptop and an HDMI cord!
It is all-to-easy for me to pack every single day with enough activities for two days for most people. While that maximized the sum total of sights seen and boxes checked, I would often come home needing a vacation from my vacation. So, we intentionally scheduled very light days here and there, allowing us time to sit on the patio/deck and just relax, enjoying our surroundings. It’s only taken me 50 years to figure this out; hopefully, if you’re like me, you may now be inspired to slow it down a bit, and enjoy this sweet moment in time we call “life’. LESSON 7: Plan to Slow it down a notch.
Well gang, guess that’s about it for now. Our Worldmark timeshare condos come with a fully-equipped kitchen, so we are just about ready to go inside and cook a delicious, nutritional and low-cost dinner. What travel tips do you have you’d like to share?
PS: To make reservations for tours of Mesa Verde, and other National Park attractions, go to Recreation.gov. As of late May, reservations were not needed for the Zion Shuttle, and the fee was removed. Some essential trail markers had been removed from the slickrock at Snow Canyon in a very essential spot. You may be able to route-find using a trail map; carry 2-4 quarts of water per person plus an electrolyte replacement drink for safety, and wear a hat. Even (especially?) in the hot desert sun, lightweight long pants and a breathable long-sleeve shirt works better than sunscreen.
My love/hate relationship with GPS really came into focus recently. The maps/GPS app on my phone did a great job of finding the fastest route between Durango, CO and Taos, NM. We crossed some really spectacular country, and I wasn’t surprised when we started climbing, as there are all kinds of mountains in this area. I kept expecting to come to a mountain pass, then head downhill into Taos. Instead, we kept climbing, climbing and climbing. I had my wife pull up the Altimeter app on my phone … 7,000 feet … 8,000 feet … 9,000 feet … 10,000 feet … and finally, at literally the top of a mountain, 10, 525 feet! Even with clouds all around us, the views stretched out for miles and miles. It was stunning, but also totally unexpected.
Once we got to our destination, I took a closer look at the route on the map, and there was zero clue as to what driving this route entailed. Then I pulled out an actual map for the area (Indian Country Guide Map by AAA), and discovered we had summited Jawbone Mountain! As I continued to look at the paper map, I saw so much interesting information about the country that we had missed by not checking it out beforehand.
At home I have a good-sized storage bin that holds literally dozens, if not hundreds of maps from places I’ve gone. They range from a map of the Western States to topographical maps of trails that cover only a few square miles. I have maps with yellow highter that have routes of road trips I planned that covered half a dozen or more states. I’d sit down with these maps, exploring in my mind’s eye the whys and wheres of a trip – incredible scenery, access to backcountry, historic points of interest, or just something intriguing on the map. And somehow or other, without the aid of a GPS in my car or on my phone, I made it to every place I wanted to visit. Conversely, my GPS has occasionally taken me miles from where I expected … and I have read multiple stories about people who got well and truly lost – and even perished – by trusting their GPS in their car.
In the cold, wet and gray days of winter in the Pacific Northwest, I would spend hours pouring over the maps, reading guidebooks, planning campsites, hikes, explorations. I’d make lists of everything needed to make the trip a success. I could almost see the distant vistas, and feel the summer heat on my back. It was my tofur – two for the price of one, living one vacation in my mind as I planned it, then when I was actually seeing my plans unfold in real life. Looking up the route I had taken this time on a map showed me how much I was missing by using the ubiquitous technology available at our fingertips today. I still have a few days left on this road trip. My maps are coming out, and I can’t wait to see what I find.
Our goal was to go to the Taos Pueblo and find Carpio. However, the Pueblo was closed due to COVID, so we made a new plan … right on the spot, when we saw a sign pointing down a dirt road to Taos Mesa. Looked like miles and miles of flat sagebrush desert, but hey! Let’s check it out!
Astoria! This was the first city in Oregon, founded in 1811, and was the first American settlement west of the Rocky Mountains. Lewis and Clark famously spent a miserable winter here in 1805-1806.They had hoped to hitch a ride home on one of the ships that would brave the treacherous Columbia River bar to trade with the Native American tribes, but ended up hiking all the way home across America.
Despite the terrible winter, Astoria soon became a thriving commercial hub, first for fur trading, and then for lumber mills, fishing and canneries. Unfortunately, in America, nothing succeeds like excess, and soon the fur trade collapsed, the best timber was gone, and the salmon nearly wiped out. Mills closed, canneries shut down, and the railroad left town. At the same time, ship traffic on the mighty Columbia increased, and continues to play a significant role in town.
Today Astoria continues to reinvent itself, and is a fabulous destination to spend a few days and explore. Besides the short walks I will take you on today, you can also visit Fort Clatsop, a reconstruction of the fort where Lewis and Clark and company stayed, and Fort Stevens. Fort Stevens was built in 1863-64 to protect the entrance to the Columbia River from the British as a result of the “Pig War.” It was an active military base until 1947, and is well worth the visit.
One of our favorite places to walk in Astoria is the Astoria Riverwalk. All total, we have probably done about four miles of the total length of six miles. It runs along the route of the former Astoria Trolley, built in the 1880’s, which ran from Astoria to Seaside. There is an interesting mix of sights to see: the Columbia River Maritime Museum, with a retired floating lighthouse ship, and a retired Bar Pilot ship.
Walking along the shoreline you will see the bridge that now links Astoria with Washington State, ships at anchor waiting to go upriver and be loaded with wheat from the inland empires of Oregon, Washington and Idaho, and abandoned canneries slowly collapsing near the shores.
You will also see many thriving businesses, waterfront hotels, and various oddities. Hungry? I recommend the Astoria Brewing Company, with decent waterfront views. You can read my review here (look for William G.). The city of Astoria has resurrected the old trolley line, and a vintage trolley car runs during the summer months (Covid permitting).
From downtown, it is an easy walk (well, more or less, Astoria is quite hilly) to the uptown residential area. While downtown burned twice, many of the great turn-of-the-century homes on the hill escaped, and you can see them today. First and foremost is the Flavel House, built in 1884-85 for Captain George Flavel, a Columbia Bar Pilot. The Columbia River was known as “The Graveyard of the Pacific”; the river deposited tons of sand and silt collected on its way to the ocean onto ever-shifting sandbars that wrecked many vessels attempting to reach Portland. It became common practice (and is now required) for local captains familiar with the frequent changes of the main channel to safely guide ships across the bar to a safe harbor in Astoria. Captain Flavel made an excellent living at this, and with his real estate investments. You can tour this magnificent home when you visit.
As you have figured out, Terri and I love to walk small, historic cities like Astoria to see what we can find, and we were not disappointed here. There is a significant number of historic homes; click here for a short video I took showing a few homes that remind me of San Francisco’s famous “Painted Ladies” homes.
Not least, but last for this post is a bit of a cheat; we drove here. The Astor Column (since renamed the Astoria Column) was built by a grandson of John Jacob Astor, who basically started the fur trade in Oregon. A mural spirals up the 125 foot column depicting the history of Oregon. Pre-Covid you could walk up the 164 steps to the top for an incredible view of surrounding territory. Still, the view from the 30 acre park is pretty impressive. This is a can’t miss on your visit to Astoria!
Scenes from World War I were playing on my screen recently. Soldiers were huddled in the trenches, with incoming artillery shells, mortar rounds and sniper fire. It was a constant battle just to remove the dead and injured from the live fire while shrapnel, mud, and debris rained all around them. Everyone wondered if they’d actually make it home alive, not to mention arrive physically unscathed. Unfortunately, many of those who arrived with bodies intact turned out to have “shell shock”, or what we now term Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
It is estimated that 40 million people died worldwide in that war; so far, “only” about 2 million people have died from the quiet war of coronavirus. Without the explosions and bloody deaths as stark reminders of this war, many people saw little or no risk, and pretty much continued their lives as they had before they had to wear a mask to get their groceries. But for some of us – those with compromised immune systems or other pre-existing conditions – this felt like an invisible war that was being raged right next to us, and we retreated to our foxholes, shelters we shared with only those who lived in our homes. Anyone else could be an undercover agent carrying Covid-19; trust no one, no matter how much you love or miss them. It was a fast, brutal and stark reordering of priorities.
Every trip outside the home became an exercise in warfare and spycraft. Need to fill the gas tank? Find a deserted pump island. Oh no, here comes someone! Do they have a mask? Which way is the wind blowing? How close are they going to get? Want to take a walk and get some exercise? Oops, not there, look at all the cars in the parking lot. How many people are on that trail? Nope, let’s find a deserted neighborhood. Groceries? Order online, drive to the store, open the back hatch, put on a mask. What? Why are they trying to approach my window, I stated NO CONTACT! Get the groceries home, wipe down everything with disinfecting wipes, then wipe down the counter.
Order surgical masks, cloth masks, vented masks (oops, can’t wear that; glasses won’t fog, but my outgoing breath isn’t filtered, and that’s not cool). Order more masks. Get filters for masks. Order surgical gloves. Get an air purifier for household air (seemed like a good idea at the time, will come in handy during smoke season). Search and search for hand sanitizer, disinfecting spray and wipes. Order more masks, maybe these will work better. Take a chance and meet at a “social distance” with friends outdoors. On the way home, discuss whether I got closer than 6 – 10’ during the visit, and if so, how great was the risk of exposure.
One day – March 367th – get in line, and spend nearly two hours way too close to strangers, and get a shot in the arm that may be a first step in getting invisible body armor against this invisible assassin. Three weeks later, go back – where is everybody? – and get the second shot. Tomorrow, March 381st, marks FFF(c) day. We’ve been sent home from the front with a fully functioning body! But. We felt the tiniest shadow of what PTSD might feel like.
Long discussions. What can we REALLY do now? Who can we see safely? What does that look like? What does the CDC say? Hmm, lots of data there, and not a little confusing. Are they saying that to keep us safe, or the people we are with? What does 95% effective mean? Wait, now it’s “only” 90%? What about the variants, are we safe there? I feel like maybe a person emerging from a storm shelter after a tornado has just passed by, wondering if it’s safe to come out. Or maybe like a turtle who retreated to his shell because of an apparent threat, blinking his eyes, and slowly extending his head to take a look around. It’s going to take some time to stop examining every action outside of the cocoon we have built around our home.
We went a little crazy yesterday. We went to Costco … during the Senior Citizen hours to avoid crowds. We actually went a couple of months ago, double-masked, with our tight little list, only getting exactly what we needed, not going down any aisle with another person in it, and rushing out as soon as possible. This time – okay, still double masked – we go up and down dearly every aisle in the store. And yes, we found a few things we didn’t know we needed until we saw them.
We raced home (I was going to say zoomed, but that word has been co-opted by a now-ubiquitous app), put the groceries away, put on our hiking clothes, and headed out to Whistle Lake to hike a real trail! We took our masks, but only masked up if we saw others who were wearing a mask. It felt so good to not have to find a spot on the trail where we could be six feet or more off the trail, and not struggling to quickly put our masks on before they got too close. We even had two 5 minute friendships, the first in over a year!
And then (drum roll), Terri suggested we head in to Anacortes, and maybe find a restaurant with an outdoor patio where we could have a glass of wine. And we did! Anthony’s had two patios open, and the one in the sun didn’t even have anyone else on it. We ordered one of our favorite appetizers, Calamari, and a glass of wine, and marveled at where we were, and what we were doing.
Our guard is still up a bit. Still leery about being too close to unvaccinated people, dining inside a restaurant, and returning to in-person church services, to name a few. But now there is sooo much more we can do than we’ve able for the past year, it’s almost intoxicating. We’ve missed so very much this last year, and we ache to see our kids, grandkids and friends, but we survived. American could end up with three-quarters of a million dead before there is a near-zero risk of contracting covid, and our hearts break for those who have lost family and friends, and for those whose bodies will never fully recover from this disease. Yes, we took extreme measures; now all those sacrifices will begin to pay off as we reintegrate with society. The storm clouds are clearing, and we emerge, ready to build again.
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It’s not that we haven’t eaten since my last cooking post in January. And it’s not that I haven’t had time to write, what with covidisolation and all. I guess I’ve just gotten used to living in the spin cycle, watching the world go round and round outside my little glass window. In the immortal (hah!) words of Pink Floyd, I may have gotten comfortably numb in my cozy cocoon. Thankfully, some very kind words from a friend (Thanks, Donna!) prompted me to look back on some great meals we’ve had that I’d love to share with you. In fact, there are so many, I’m going to break this into two posts. First, let’s look at recipes with fowl as the protein. I’ll start with some photos to tease you; the recipes will follow after the pictures.
This is a fast, fabulous one-dish meal that is sure to impress guests or that special someone. I may have added a couple of extra dried herbs, but this is great as-is.
Here is yet another one-dish meal that is quick, pretty easy, with stupendous depth of flavor. My only pet peeve here is … who sells ground turkey in 1.25 pound packages? We just use one pound, and it works out great. We are blown away every time we eat this – which we can do often, as it makes eight servings, or four great meals. We always have to have tortilla chips with this, add a beer, and what more can you ask for?
We have only make meatloaf a couple of times over the past 15 years, but one thing is certain – this is the ONLY recipe we will ever use again, and we will use it often going forward. And once again, it fits in perfectly with our Planned-over Menu and Recipes. I can attest that this also makes a mouth-watering meatloaf sandwich!
One of the things I was interested in when I started this blog a bit over two years ago was how to travel on a budget. My sister Jae, who lives in Colorado, just got back from a three day trip to Arches National Park, and the only money she spent was for gas to get there and back. How? I asked her to share her secrets, and here they are. (By the way, you can follow her AMAZING cat on Instagram at Punkin Trip McFluffyPants).
As I embarked on my trip to Arches National park, my trailer in tow, I could feel the excitement and anticipation building. I was last there two years ago, to the day, and I vividly remember beautiful hikes and breathtaking scenery. Those of you who have been to the Utah desert in Spring or Fall know that it feels very transformational and healing. Who doesn’t need more of that right now?
I was especially eager to preview the changes recently made to my converted cargo trailer, which include the addition of a very large viewing window. And of course, enjoy outdoor time with my best friend, Punkin Trip McFluffypants.
My campsite, booked six months ago after several weeks of daily attempts to secure a site, did not disappoint. The ever-changing view out the back of my trailer and from anywhere on the campsite was soul-satisfying. I was joined by two slightly outrageous camping friends, which help round out the perfect trip.
The first morning resoundingly confirmed my choice of windows. Seeing dawn break over an amazing view from the comfort of my warm bed, knowing it was well below freezing outside was a real treat.
There are a plethora of hikes available right from the campground, and for those like me, who prefer to avoid other people when in nature, it was not that hard to do this time of year. Hiking the most popular routes in off-hours and the less popular primitive trails during peak hours did the trick. I’m always surprised how few people are up and around in campgrounds before 10 am. Me, I’m like a kid at Christmas, I can’t wait to get outside and explore.
The trip was extremely satisfying in every way, from the startling silence in the campground itself to the shockingly vivid sunsets. As I packed up to go, with a huge smile across my face, relishing the last little bit of my view, I realized it had also been surprisingly cost-effective. With a Senior Parks pass, the entrance to Arches was free and the campsite half price. My kind friends each contributed $25 which more than covered the $37.50 site cost for 3 nights. I make and bring all my own food, and since I’m vegan, I don’t have meat costs. I brought a bottle of wine that was gifted to me last Christmas. Moab has turned into an unpleasant overgrown bulging Metropolis (I’ve heard, I have no interest in going there now), so I didn’t spend a penny on this trip.
I drove 450 miles, with my truck averaging 16 miles to the gallon (yay!!!). With gas at $2.55 a gallon, I used about 29 gallons of gas for a fuel cost of $74. With the “profit” from the campsite contributions, my net cost was $61.50, plus groceries, for three nights stay in an incredible location.
I am on a tight budget, but I believe in taking full advantage of what nature has to offer, so it’s nice to know how affordable a wonderful getaway can be. You still at home? Get out there!
Just when I was getting bored, I got a new local trail recommendation (Thanks, Kim H.!) The trail to Porpoise Point is in Sares Point Park, south of Anacortes on Rosario Road. I’ll bet I’ve driven past it half a dozen times. This time, I had a reason to stop. The rain had stopped for one day in a row, so it was time to get out and stretch our legs.
The trail starts out level and well maintained in a second-growth forest, soon coming across Fox Pond (in my ignorance, I thought it was a wetland). There are all kinds of tempting side trails that we will be compelled to return to later and explore, but today we are on a mission – reports are that porpoises and seals are often seen off of Porpoise Point, so we resist rabbit trail temptations for now. We took the Madrone Trail down.
Apparently, Yellow Jackets can be a problem in non-winter months, but it sounds like they can be avoided by taking the Porpoise Trail instead of the Madrone Trail. (Tip: download the AllTrails or Hiking Project App, and you will be able to see exactly where you are). Soon the well-maintained trail devolves into a suggestion of an occasionally-used track, filled with roots, rocks, rivulets and steepish descents. The trail ends up dropping 416’ from the trailhead – what it lacks in length, it makes up in steepness.
Porpoise Rock comes into view before long, but it is a bit of a winding way to get there safely. Any place else, this small outcropping would have been crowded with hikers drinking in the expansive view, from Allen Island and Burrows Island to the Olympics. But this Saturday(!) in the middle of winter, we had it completely to ourselves, drinking in the views while eating our lunch. Sadly, no seals or porpoises for us today, but that just gives us an excuse to return.
We took the Porpoise Point Trail back, and were rewarded with sunlight streaming through the trees, illuminating the beautiful and abundant ferns lining our path. We also came across two huge Cedar trees, which had apparently been felled 50ish years ago by a windstorm … but their root system was relatively intact, so they sent up branches to the skies above, becoming trees in their own right. And the roots! Absolutely massive, unique, and a testament to resilience.
Short and sweet, this was a fun trail. And the offshoot to Sares Head looks to offer even more expansive views on our next foray to this little gem. But hey, let’s keep this our little secret, okay?
If you are at all familiar with my Instagram account Adventures In Graying, you will know we have a particular affection for Anacortes, WA. Located on Fidalgo Island, it is surrounded by the Salish Sea on three sides, and the LaConner Channel on the fourth, is blessed with great beauty, and a lifestyle devoid of big box stores. Like other seaport locations in Washington State (especially Port Townsend), it had grand dreams of becoming the western terminus of the Northern Pacific Railroad, or of a new railroad crossing the North Cascades, the Seattle and Northern Railroad.
It was first settled by railroad surveyor Amos Bowman in 1877; he named the city which was incorporated in 1891 after his wife, Anne Curtis. Land speculation ran rampant through 1890, with fabulous homes being built, along with a robust downtown. There was a huge crash in 1891 when the development company went broke. Many left town, but fishermen and loggers (among others) moved in, and thrived for decades.
Today many of the original buildings survive downtown, the stately homes have been restored, the fish canneries are almost all gone or melting back into the earth, and the last lumber mill burned to the ground years ago. This historic area is where we decided to go and get our walking exercise in recently, and we loved it so much, we have to share.
You know you have reached the historic part of downtown when you see their proud arch. Still very vibrant in this challenging time, this is a great place to spend a day checking out the mom and pop shops, fabulous restaurants, and the famous Anacortes Arts Festival (hopefully returning in 2021). Several blocks of the main street are cordoned off, filled with all types of arts and crafts, along with food vendors, and live music with a wine and beer garden. But I digress. One must-stop is the Majestic Inn, built in 1890, and beautifully restored. They have both fine dining, and a cozy, intimate bar with a great selection of wines, beers and appetizers.
Just a couple of blocks west takes you to the historic neighborhood. I am absolutely captivated by the mix of Victorian, Craftsman, and other turn-of-the-century architecture.
Sticking closer to the water, you will see the last remains of what had once been known as the Salmon Canning Capital of the World. There are still two (although appearances would say 1 ½) working fish processing plants left here. History says that this may have been the first place where Washington fishermen headed off to Alaska in the 1890’s to catch crab.
There are also a couple of micro parks along the water – really, walking this neighborhood is the only way to find them. They offer beautiful views of the Guemes Channel.
And this is but one small area in Anacortes! I haven’t even mentioned Washington Park, or Cap Sante Park and the marina area, or the Community Forest Lands! Maybe next time.
It was 315 days ago we started what we termed “Extreme Social Distancing.” No shopping, grocery or otherwise, no church, no friends over for meals, no trips to see grandkids, avoiding like the plague anyplace where we might come within 6’ of another human being. Laughably, my blog post on March 12 – that fateful first day – wonders if this new life will last six to 12 weeks. Ten months later, with a strangled vaccination roll-out and new, easier to catch, maybe more deadly coronavirus variants popping up like mushrooms after a fall rain, we are being told it could be another ten months before we can feel somewhat safe in the company of anyone other than those living in our house; yep, just Terri and I.
We do all our grocery shopping online, roll up to Fred Meyer, the back of our rig is opened, bags deposited, the door closed, and off we go. That will typically be the highlight of that day. If the weather isn’t horrible, we have a couple of choices; drive to Anacortes, where we walk in a ritzy neighborhood with views of the Salish Sea where we are the only walkers on the sidewalks. Head to Little Mountain Park, where one of the many trails has few, if any hikers, or out to LaConner. We drive to the very end of the marina area, walk the sidewalks along the shoreline until we get to the cute, touristy town with closed shops and empty sidewalks.
Once in a while we will head to Whidbey Island during the week and find a deserted beach to walk, or sit with a meager lunch and ponder the timelessness of the wind and waves. Or we may try and find a backroad in our tri-county area we haven’t been on yet, running out of options there.
As we were nearly home driving back from one of our micro-excursions, we looked at each other, and I asked Terri “What do you want to do tomorrow?” And we both laughed. “Today IS Tomorrow” we said. Our yesterdays, todays and tomorrows are becoming indistinguishable from each other. There are no sharp calendar edges on our months, only the slow shape-shifting of seasons.
Occasionally punctuation marks seem to appear out of nowhere. Friends moving away, a few very social-distance encounters with a couple friends and family. A short road trip to a condo where we will continue the extreme social distancing, but with a view other than our four walls for a few days. News of hard times for family members, reports of illnesses and death of friends family members. Astoundingly disturbing news from the other Washington. They all come in fast, hit hard, and dissipate like morning fog.
Maybe like you, I want to live a life with meaning. The visceral knowledge that we are like the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire singes my days. Days like dry tinder, flashing into flame, but with no wood to make a meaningful fire. Incense carrying my prayers that I may play my part in the plan, to make at least a bit of a difference in a world crying for justice and mercy.
So I scratch and peck, send a text here, make a call there, write a letter to the ethereous internet, jump on a Zoom with anyone willing to share time with us, or join a meeting where they have to let me in. A flash in the pan, a speck of gold dust, reminding me of the richness of relationships now reduced to electrons on a screen, and a yearning in the heart.
Hold on, we just have to hold on. Hold on to what we have, to the munificent blessings a mere glance reveals. Hold on to the investment of time spent in extreme social distancing that has kept us safe so far. Hold on to the lottery-like promise of a vaccine that could maybe possibly hopefully who knows begin an emergence into a new normal. If you have met me in person, you know I am a hugger. Know now that my hugs will be a bit tighter, a bit longer the next time we meet. Know that my tears will probably flow when I see you in person. Know that my heart aches and yearns for that time to come soon. I have hope. I am clinging to a hope for a better, brighter day for you and me on this glorious world. And, speaking for myself, one way or the other, I am confident and cling to the hope I have in the next world.
Tossed and turned by life and weather; nevertheless we persisted in cooking
The tidal wave of unprecedented events in 2020 threatened to completely overwhelm us in December, so we retreated to the kitchen and cooked up our own storm of wonderful meals, topped off with a fabulous scallop dish on Christmas Day. When I’m in the kitchen, I’m focused on the task at hand; sadness, anger, loneliness, wistfulness – all shrink to to nothingness while slicing, dicing, chopping, mixing, searing, sauteing, baking, boiling, plating, and finally, eating. Maybe the title for this blog should be “Cooking As Therapy?” Here are four of my favorite therapy sessions from last month. (Recipes follow the photos and commentary).
Seared Cod with bacon, braised fennel and kale. Well, for many reasons we chose to use turkey bacon instead of pork. The only downside is that no fat renders from the turkey bacon, so we replace the bacon drippings with a little extra olive oil. The only other change we made was to use standard size bell peppers, so the presentation is off a bit, but the taste remains the same. As you can see, we also added some roasted Brussels Sprouts, which paired well with the meal.
Mediterranean-Style StuffedChicken. Tres’ Elegante! The picture does not do it justice, but this meal is on our shortlist of “Company Worthy” recipes. This is one of the few recipes I don’t mess with, and follow to the T. The make-or-break point is the tapenade. It is a bit tough to find in stores, but easy to make ahead. Here is a recipe from Alton Brown that is very similar to my homemade one. We used farro instead of rice, and served with rainbow chard for a perfect accompaniment.
It can be a bit tricky to slice the chicken breast just right to stuff the zucchini and tapenade, so take your time to get it right. Have fun and enjoy!
White Bean Soup with Tomato and Shrimp. Based on Italian puttanesca recipes, this is one delicious mouthful! It does have a bit of heat from the chili powder and crushed red pepper (not enough for us, so we are generous with the chili powder, and double the crushed red pepper), so be forewarned. The only other change I made was to add a generous portion of Penzy’s Tuscan Sunset, a mix of dried basil, oregano, red bell pepper, garlic, thyme, fennel, black pepper and anise seed. Don’t tell anyone, but this is my secret ingredient to add tons of flavor to a whole host of recipes. Seriously, if you haven’t ordered yours yet, you are missing out … and they have no idea I’m recommending this .
Be sure to pair this with a loaf of crusty artisan bread to soak up all the flavorful broth!
Grilled Scallops with Pea Pesto over Angel Hair Pasta is the pièce de résistance from our adventures in the kitchen for December 2020. We tried to get frozen scallops from our local supermarket, but they were out … then I remembered seeing a fish shack (actually MUCH nicer than it sounds) on a main highway not too far from us. I called them, and they had fresh, wild-harvested mussels from the North Atlantic. They were a bit pricey, but, hey, this was for our Christmas dinner. They were oh so worth it!
Our grill was stowed away for the winter, so we used our tried-and-true basic black cast-iron fry pan. The secret to cooking mussels is to have the pan screaming hot, almost scary hot. Put them in the pan, and watch them slightly change color/texture until there is 3/16th inch of sear on the bottom (or so) ; ) . Turn them just once to sear on the other side, then be prepared to serve immediately, so do this last. The only other tip is to use a very high quality olive oil, it really makes a difference. Once again, this is a dinner you can be proud to serve anyone!
Well, I feel better already after this therapy session, don’t you? Let’s hope and pray 2021 is a bit more gentle with us than 2020. And if not, just head to the kitchen and cook those blues away!
I should have known that my New Year’s Eve plans would go off the rails a bit when after multiple tries, I couldn’t get any fennel for a fabulous mussels in white wine sauce recipe I wanted to make.
It had felt like I’d been waging my own private two-front war against the pandemic; one physical and the other mental. The physical battle has been tough, on each and every one of us. So many have lost this battle. All that the survivors will have will be memories of their loved ones lost in this great war. Most of the rest of us have sacrificed coveted times with mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, grandkids and friends. So many are still in the trenches, fighting for us, trying to keep us alive, no matter how safe we thought we were being, or even if we thought it couldn’t happen to us.
Many of us have sacrificed vacations, anniversaries, honeymoons, funerals, graduations, travel plans. We’ve given up dining out, shopping in stores, going out to the movies, going to church, five-minute friendships with strangers, and a thousand other common, ordinary things we took for granted. And that’s just the physical side.
On the mental side, we are fighting an invisible enemy, lurking anywhere, just waiting for a lax moment to ambush us. For us, extreme isolation seemed to be the safest way to keep each other alive and healthy. Several times it has felt like we were in a newer version of the movie Blast from the Past. We occasionally emerge from our bunker, and drive around old haunts, marveling at new construction springing from the ground like mushrooms after a rain, or with pangs of nostalgia as we see places we loved that will only return in our memories. Then we return to our bunker, close the hatch behind us, cross another day off the calendar, and wait for a day in the hazy future when we will emerge into a world that has been changed forever.
Fighting an invisible enemy takes its toll. Isolation takes its toll. I want to attack, fight and defeat this enemy, but all I can do is hide. My fight or flight response has been maxed out every day for nearly a year, and I’m tired of running from a particle too small to be seen by the human eye. As I lay awake on New Year’s Eve Eve, my mind, addled by sleeplessness, decided to declare a personal war against the virus on New Year’s Eve. I’d show it! I won’t be cowed! I’m going to make that whole day a huge party, and win this battle it has been waging against me in my own mind. Along the way, there was a distinct possibility that this battle may involve a bit of consumption of my favorite anesthetic to salve the wounds I had borne.
The day started off with my making our favorite frittata, maybe the best ever using chipotle flavored olive oil. I was going to serve Mimosas along with it, but my practical, Scotch side made a rare appearance, and convinced me that the bottle of bubbly would probably go flat before we finished it. The fritatta was fabulous, but now my plans were off track a bit.
Several days earlier, I had a brainstorm, and ordered a Smoked Gouda from Fred Meyer, and three of my favorite cheeses from The Cheesemonger’s Shop in Leavenworth, WA; a Kerrygold Aged Cheddar from Ireland, a Blue Stilton from England, and Humbolt Fog from Cypress Grove in Arcata, California. Along with that we had some Rosemary Crackers, Artisanal Rosemary Bread from Avenue Bakery, a Limited Release Olio Nuovo Extra Virgin Olive Oil form Durant Olive Mill in Dayton, Oregon (a gift from our friends Gary and Linda), Hummus with veggies, and Honeycrisp Apples for lunch … while we watched Shrek. True confession, I’d never seen it before, but Terri loves it and wanted me to see it. Why not? Having fun was a big part of the battle in my brain. Oh, and we shared a VERY nice bottle of Sonoma Zinfandel, a perfect accompaniment to this repast.
Next up, a great video reunion with our great friends Don and Trish, who just moved into their new house in Texas. Laughter, tears and wine flowed as we caught up with each other, their absence and distance a part of this new reality. Two hours whisked by like a brightly burning meteor lighting the sky and disappearing.
Well, it was too late to make dinner now (and it wasn’t going to be the fabulous Mussels in White Wine), so we found some of our frozen “Planned Overs”, turned on the TV to watch “Bosch”, our latest Prime binge, with a tiny splash of bourbon. Looking back on the day, and on my private battle, I figured I had fought well against a huge opposing force. I had not totally won, but neither had I lost; I was satisfied to call it a draw, head to bed, and rest to fight another day in a new year.
Occasionally I get an opportunity to fill out surveys. I got an easy one the other day – it asked me how many miles I had driven in a 24 hour period, starting at 3:00AM the previous day. That was easy; I just put a zero in every box. In fact, due to the steady rains setting in and other factors, I haven’t left the house except to pick up our mail in four days.
It did get me to thinking, though, about how constrained our activities have become. Basically we get out to pick up groceries that someone else has picked out for us from the list we send them; we get out to do nearby hikes or walks, and occasionally we get out to just to drive around, and see if we can find a road we’ve not been down before. We are pretty leery of doing much else, especially now that the numbers of coronavirus are increasing exponentially all around us.
Like many others, we were super excited to hear about the efficacy of the vaccines that are in the pipeline. We can finally start to dream about doing more, and expanding our horizons! Visiting grandkids, friends and family, shopping (especially at Costco), movies, dining out, wine tasting, returning to our favorite places, travel – oh my! We can’t wait for the vaccine … but we have to. We are optimistically thinking that we may be inoculated by April. But then Mr. Leery started knocking.
First of all, 95% effective sounds pretty great, especially when the flu vaccine is generally about 60%. But if you had a 5% chance of winning a $1million lottery, you’d buy a ticket every day, and might win twice a year. The good news is that I’m guessing we will be in the first 30% of people that get the vaccine, so that’s good! On the other hand, it’s projected that 50% of the population won’t get a vaccine, so that means even though we may have a high level of protection this spring, 70% of America will still be getting infected, and trying to infect us.
We’d love to go to a movie, but there we are, cooped up in a room filled with strangers, and always – ALWAYS – someone coughing their lungs out, floating their aerosolized pathogens while they eat their popcorn and drink their Coke. I’m pretty leery about that.
We are hoping to fly to Texas to see friends there. Yeah, “they” say flying is safe, but we’ve all seen videos of passengers who refuse to mask up, and they are serving food again on flights, so everyone’s mask will be off in that cramped aluminum coffin hurtling through space for hours and hours. That pretty much takes leery to the limit.
So, our joy at the great news of the vaccines has been tempered a bit by a healthy dose of reality. When will we be leery-less? Maybe when everyone who wants a vaccine has had both shots, even though the rest of the nation will still be playing hot potato with Covid-19. Maybe when they stop reporting hospitalizations and deaths from coronavirus, and mass shootings become the story of the day again. In the meantime, we’ll do what we can with what we have. Words with Friends, anyone? Or online Hearts while Zooming? Or…
It’s not that we haven’t eaten since my last menu planning post, but we actually found a number of things to fill our days and steal our time. Hope you’ve had great days and fabulous food in the meantime, especially for Thanksgiving! This post brings you two of our all-time favorites, a brand-new favorite, and an also-ran that should work well for lunches.
One-Pot Chicken Thighs with Rice, Black Beans and Chilis. Most of these meals are cooked in a single pot, or on a sheet pan, which makes clean-up easier – especially helpful during these crazy times. We like to have a bowl of Juanita’s Tortilla Corn Chips alongside this dish for extra texture.
Brown Sugar Salmon with Maple Mustard Dill Sauce. How does this look for an easy-but-fancy dinner? Not only is salmon a very healthy protein choice, it’s also very flavorful. Costco has Wild Sockeye Salmon in perfect serving sizes, individually wrapped in their freezer section. The Maple/Dill Sauce really puts this recipe over the top.
To make the Smashed Potatoes, use small potatoes, microwave until nearly done. Use a measuring cup to smash the potatoes; coat with olive oil, add salt and pepper, and put in a fry pan (a little butter there will make them extra crispy). Cook until golden crunchy, flip once.
Sumac Chicken with Carrots and Cauliflower remains one of our all-time favorites. Very little prep, lots of great flavor, and easy clean-up. If you haven’t gotten your Sumac from Penzy’s yet, you are missing out on a unique and wonderful flavor.
While this dish can stand on its own, a green salad would add freshness to the meal that would be a nice complement.
I read an explanation once of why time seems to go by so much faster the older we get. When we are young, a huge part of what we experience is brand new, and it takes a substantial amount of time for our brains to process experiences and new knowledge. In our twilight years, the data banks in our heads are pretty full, and everything is neatly filed away (although access may be somewhat limited.) The gaps between new and very unique memorable moments increases, so as we look back on the previous day/week/month/year, those gaps are skipped over, compressing that time frame, and making it appear to go by very quickly.
Then the pandemic enters the picture, and for those of us who have chosen to self-isolate out of a sense of self-preservation, the opportunity for memorable moments has shrunken to a mere shadow of its former presence. Memories of the Year of Covid will look dramatically different to young school-age children than they will to senior citizens such as myself. Their painful memories of being separated from friends and peers will have a lasting impact on their lives; in a few years, when seniors are asked what they did in 2020, I’m betting most of us will get a blank look on our face as we try to remember how we filled the days that seemed to flash by like a quickly forgotten nonsensical dream.
So what does all of this have to do with Finding An Inordinate Amount of Joy? As I’ve mentioned before, one of the things Terri and I both enjoy doing is getting out and hiking or walking. We have three places we return to again and again, primarily due to the fact we rarely encounter others who may be leaving a trail of shed virus behind them. Some time ago, on one of our walks, we found an unmarked social trail that took us through some coastal woods with views to the Salish Sea. It was slightly overgrown with thorny wild roses and other brush, so one time I took our garden shears to make the walk there a bit less likely to shred cloth or skin, and noticed someone else had also trimmed back a few obstacles along the way. Finding this hidden gem brought a huge smile to our faces as we revelled in this tiny slice of hidden beauty.
Then, a few days ago, we were walking in a nearby area, and came across several fresh blooms of wild mushrooms. I’ve always found fungal growth fascinating; I bet I have dozens if not hundreds of photos of the unique expressions of this life form in my archives. And yet, I still can’t resist taking even more photos, which I can’t resist posting here and on my Photos page of my blog.
We continued walking; looking through some woods (on public-ish property), I told Terri “I wonder what’s back there?” We went around an obstacle that had blocked our view, and Voila! another hidden gem of a social trail! Ever curious, we checked out this boot-beaten track as it wound through Fir and Madrona, through wild roses and brambles, first revealing a hidden lake, then salt-water shoreline. But wait, there was more! So we kept on, this way and that, under branches and over fallen trees until we came to the end, with a surprise finish. I’m not naming the area to try and keep the trail from being closed by having too many visitors, but I can’t resist showing a photo of where we ended up. If you come, here, please respect the area, and let’s keep it our little secret.
It only took us 10 minutes to walk this little trail to the very end, but I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face every moment I was on it. While I could tell that my unknown friend with his/her clippers had been here as well, for the moment it was a brand-new discovery that just belonged to Terri and I. A new memory was being made, new territory explored, and a freshness was breathed into 2020. Our huge smiles lingered as we walked the 30 minutes back to the car, and we felt An Inordinate Amount of Joy in our tiny little discovery. Here’s hoping YOU are able to get out, explore, be curious, and find your own little moment of Inordinate Joy.
I’m not sure exactly why or when, but at some point in my life, I guess I decided to play by the rules. I never even really noticed, or thought about it until one day when my sister-in-law Lauren made the observation, “Bill, you are a Boy Scout.” I may have been waiting for a Walk signal to cross the street on an otherwise deserted road. I pondered all the implications for a few moments, and said “Yeah, you are probably right.”
It can have beneficial impacts, though, as when new and important rules suddenly come out of the blue, such as Wear A Mask, Stay 6 Feet Apart, Wash Your Hands (More) Often and such as that. For a while it included Disinfect Every Item brought into the house from the grocery store, Quarantine The Mail and delivery boxes for at least two days and Don’t Talk to Strangers. Other rules that still stand: Don’t Eat Inside Restaurants, Don’t Go Inside Grocery Stores and Don’t Travel (very far). So far, so good – we remain coronavirus free!
Well, as I reported inSeniors Stuck Inside Escape! we determined we could travel to our time-share condos where each unit has an outside door so we don’t have to share elevators or hallways. We kept it all in-state, with stays in Chelan, Leavenworth, Ocean Shores and Discovery Bay (near Sequim). These stays have definitely helped us maintain the wee bit of sanity we have left in our golden years.
We recently just returned from three nights at Discovery Bay. While there we will often walk north on Old Gardner Road for our daily exercise. This time we decided to walk south; the northern route is almost abandoned, but the south route has a center line and no shoulders, so we were a bit apprehensive, but ran – or rather, walked – the risk. Towards the end of our walk, I noticed some unusual shapes in a sparsely wooded field, and moved closer to check it out. It turned out to be an old, but still in current use, cemetery! If you’ve followed me on Instagram, or read some previous posts, you will understand that we had to take at least a half an hour to explore this hidden gem. Besides finding several tombstones with a 1918 date of death that brought the past smack dab right up to the present situation, we found a marker with the earliest date of birth we have ever seen – “Grandma” Julie Ann Jacobs, born 1792, died 1826.
From there we headed to Sequim. We’ve driven through it many times, but never actually stopped to check it out. After driving through the tiny but cute downtown area, I decided to see if we could find our way to view the Straits of Georgia that divided Washington State from Vancouver Island. Taking random roads I hoped might lead us in the general direction, I spotted a sign for Railroad Bridge Park, which led us to an abandoned railroad bridge built out of wood, first in 1915, then rebuilt in 1930. At 740’ long, it is the longest truss bridge built of wood. It appears the Dungeness River is a bit fickle, as but a trickle was passing under the wooden portion of the bridge when we were there.
Leaving there, I consulted the map, and found the micro village of Dungeness which promised the views of Georgia Strait I had been looking for. After winding this way and that we found a sliver of a park, and walked to the shore. It turned out that we were actually almost totally separated from the Strait by Dungeness Spit, a five-mile long skinny sand dune with a lighthouse and wildlife preserve at the end. And we COULD have seen Vancouver Island if it hadn’t been totally covered with clouds.
Fun fact about Sequim – it gets about 16” of rain per year, or less than half of what Western Washington does, so it is a bit of a mecca for retirees who love the Wet Side, but crave a bit less dampness. So, we decided to check out senior accommodations whilst we were in the area, and found brand-new 55+ condos and a senior manufactured home park, which happened to have a double rainbow right over the unit that was for sale that we were looking at! A sign?
We had also heard about Port Ludlow, just south of Port Townsend, that was supposed to be a haven for seniors, so we headed out the next day to check it out. It turned out to be very, very tiny, quite cute on a small bay. It looks to get even more rain than Seattle. Next. So, we headed out to Indian Island and Fort Flagler on Morrowstone Island. Basically all but the road on the south shore of Indian Island belongs to the Navy for a munitions base, where submarines from the base at Bremerton stop to pick up fresh nuclear missiles on their way out of town.
Fort Flagler is a huge jewel of a park, built around 1890, and manned during WWI, WWII and the Korean War. Part of the Triangle of Fire with Fort Casey on Whidbey Island and Fort Worden by Port Townsend, each fort had multiple big gun emplacements strategically placed to defend the entrance to Puget Sound from enemy warships. Each one is a state park, and each offers a unique glimpse into the role they played in our nation’s defense. Fort Flagler is the most remote, but oh so worth the effort to get there. It has 1,451 acres with over 3 ½ miles of shoreline and fabulous views.
Almost all of the original buildings still remain; the homes the officers lived in have been restored, and are available to rent, as are larger facilities for big groups. The barracks look exactly like the ones I stayed in during basic training at Fort Lewis 50 years ago. There is also a great campground with amazing views to the north of Port Townsend and Whidbey island. You can wander through all the old gun emplacements, and try and imagine what life was like in the concrete bunkers filled with high explosives. A number of interpretive plaques give some insight as to the history and use of various sites. We saw a good chunk of the park while we were there, but are already looking forward to going back in the spring. For a quick video of one of the beach areas, click HERE.
With the sun already approaching the horizon at 3:30 in this northern latitude, we set our sights for Happy Hour at our home base back at Discovery Bay. We had had an amazing two full days full of discovery, beauty and history, and had done it safely during this pandemic that has upended the world. Infections are shooting up in Washington like a rocket being launched at Cape Canaveral, and it looks like a good time to retreat to the safety of our cozy little home for awhile. Thankszooming, anyone? Stay safe, and take good care of yourself and each other; this too shall pass.
PS Something new! For more photos of this trip, please click HERE or on the Photo link at the top of the blog. Thanks!
Something remarkable happened a couple of days ago … I saw and talked with six of my neighbors while I was putting up our Christmas lights! What makes this so remarkable is that it was early November, and most of us have retreated to our caves to hibernate for the next six months, so sightings of neighbors is a rare happenstance.
Up in the Northwest corner of the Pacific Northwest, we “joke” that we have two seasons – the Long, Wet Gray (LWG) starting as early as mid-October and lasting until mid-May, and Partly Sunny. Oh sure, we can get a couple of weeks that passes for Spring, and maybe a bit more that can seem like Fall, but when the LWG arrives, everyone knows it. On Solstice this year, the sun will rise unseen behind a thick veil of clouds at 8:01 AM, then quickly set at 4:16 PM, although the light begins to seriously dim about 3:30.
We were able to participate in an annual ritual this year that occasionally gets rained out – Putting the Flower Beds to Bed. Once the first frost hits, we know the LWG will soon follow. The flowers, once so vibrant and lush are brown and drooping back to the soil from whence they sprang. I’m sure there is a fabulous metaphor here as we pull up the withered annuals, and cut back the perennials to within a few inches of their life. The rose bushes seem the most dramatic to me, once a colander of glossy green leaves spouting beautiful red blooms, wafting an intoxicating and heavenly scent, now reduced to a few short and forbidding thorny vestiges like a glimpse of the weeks and months to follow.
I admit we put off putting the gardens to bed a bit this year. Like so many of you, we have severely limited our life primarily to our tiny little corner of the world, finding an inordinate amount of joy and comfort from the shelter of our gazebo as we gazed out to the most prolific display of mesmerizing beauty our little flower beds may have ever produced. The brightness of the blooms and the baffling beauty of Hummingbirds eliminated the shadows on our souls cast by the dark spell of a microscopic seed planted in humankind all across this world. What a marvelous medicine it was!
I remember when I was young, going to bed, sitting up and reading, totally caught up in whatever book had caught my fancy. But then my mom would come up and say, “Okay, it’s time to turn off the lights and go to sleep!” Sometimes she would give me a few more minutes if I was persuasive enough; otherwise, I’d turn off the lights, wait a few moments, and then break out the flashlight and read under the covers as long as I dared or until I finished the book. While those days have long since passed, it’s as if Mother Nature has come to me – to us – and said “Okay, it’s time to turn off the lights and go to sleep!” The blooms are gone, the bears have gone to den, and we are tucked into a blanket of clouds. “To sleep, perchance to dream” to borrow a line from the bard.
But, like that little boy, I will not go gently into that good night. I love a line from a Bruce Cockburn song – “Kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight,” and that will be my touchstone during the Long, Wet Gray. I lighted up our Christmas lights the day I put them up on November 10th instead of waiting until Thanksgiving per tradition. Yesterday Terri and I did something we’ve NEVER done before – we went through the drive-through at Dairy Queen and got two Blizzards! And … those of you who know us well will be SHOCKED .. we are making plans to pick up some kind of a fast-food meal at a drive-through to eat in the car as we find a place of beauty and tranquility to savor an uncommon moment. And who knows what other wild and crazy norms we may bend as we kick at the darkness? What about you? What will you do this winter that is uncommon? Whatever it is, stay safe, ‘cause we’d really like to see you when we emerge from the dual hibernation of winter and pandemic.
I had pancakes for breakfast this morning. For the first time in a few years. Growing up, we’d often have pancakes for breakfast, made with Krusteaz mix, a tradition I faithfully carried on up until a couple of years back when I discovered how much sodium pancake mix has. I decided to try and make changes to my diet reduce my blood pressure without medication; sadly, the pancakes had to go as two small pancakes had a whopping 530mg of sodium! Since then, I’ve been searching for a palatable low-sodium pancake mix, alas, without success.
Last week whilst perusing our home-made cookbook for upcoming meals, I found an egg-free pancake recipe our daughter Jenn had given us that we could use for our granddaughter. We never actually got around to trying it. Looking at it, I noticed it didn’t call for any salt. It turns out that baking powder DOES contain sodium, but not much, so – for the first time in my life, I made home-made pancakes … and they were good! I’m excited about adding pancakes back into my breakfast repertoire!
All of which brought up childhood memories of breakfast. One of my favorites was going to Mount Tabor Park in Portland, Oregon for Easter Breakfast. Back then they had the outdoor stone stoves, which have disappeared without photographic evidence. I was able to find a photo very similar to the ones at Mt. Tabor of one at Lassen. We’d build a fire, wait for the thick steel plate to heat up, then cook pancakes, bacon and eggs in the cast iron fry pan and griddle we would bring. We would also have big family breakfast gatherings at parks on the scenic highway through the Columbia Gorge.
So, the title of this post notwithstanding, I was a Cheerios guy, not a Wheaties person. My dad, hailing from Canada, loved a porridge mix called Sonny Boy, and would bring some home after every trip back. I remember his dad actually grinding and making his own porridge. As a young lad, I never developed a taste for those rough cereals. My brother’s wife Becky has a great memory of her grandfather getting up by 5:30am every morning, making homemade oatmeal, and homemade biscuits with honey butter.
What I DID like, and one thing we all looked forward to was breakfast at Elmer’s. Strawberry Waffles with tons of whipped cream, oh my gosh! Many years later, after my mom passed, our dad met a wonderful woman who became the glue for our family; they announced their engagement over breakfast at Elmer’s!
Since then, we have found some incredibly good recipes for breakfast, which I will share on the Menu Planning and Recipes page here on my blog. So, I’d LOVE to hear what your favorite breakfast memories or recipes are. Please share! In the meantime, Let’s Get Cooking!
Thanks for all the comments on what I thought would be my most boring post ever about pots and pans! Here’s a couple of interesting things that were brought to our attention we want to share with you.
Bruce and Kathy from British Columbia shared this great find with us: a meatloaf pan! I never even knew such a thing existed, but this is pure genius! Who amongst us hasn’t struggled to get meatloaf out of the pan after cooking, only to mess up several portions. No more!
So, I recently learned a lot about Dutch ovens. Pre-17th century, the Dutch were the best makers of pots and pans in the world, using copper and brass. Then an Englishman thought cast iron would work, and be much more affordable … but to make it work, he had to use the “Dutch process” to cast them, so they’ve been known as Dutch ovens ever since.
It also turns out that if you want to get really picky, Dutch ovens are made of uncoated cast iron. The French devised a way to coat them with enamel, making them much easier to clean, and became known as French ovens (I never knew this). Here is a great article from Allrecipies on “What is a Dutch Oven” with lots more information, tips, and recipes.
So, last time, as to not totally bore you to death, I didn’t say much about fry pans. Haha, sorry, but yes, there’s more! Besides the Swiss Zyliss non-stick, we also have an uncoated cast iron fry pan (another Christmas gift from Terri to me), and a little, inexpensive copper coated fry/saute pan. After a very bad experience with the failure of a non-stick PFOA (teflon-type) fry pan, we went looking for alternatives. I was VERY skepical because of how little the copper-coated pan cost, but it has been a winner. It is amazingly fast and easy to clean, and the coating still appears to be very durable. Here is a link to a video on USA Today about the differences between cast-iron and stainless steel fry pans, and when to use each one for best results.
So now I’m even more curious – do you have a unique pan you absolutely love? Come on and share with the rest of us!
One of our first purchases together was a set of hard anodized Calphalon Cookware. We wanted something durable, well-made, and high quality that would outlast us. The investment in having the right assortment of sizes continues to pay great dividends as we find ourselves in the kitchen even more, due to the pandemic.
We have cooked for others in their homes a few times, and one of our biggest challenges has been the lack of pots and pans needed to perfectly prepare the meal. We have continued to add to our collection over the years, with some pieces absolutely worth every penny spent.
Several years back, we had our eyes on a classic Le Creuset dutch oven. When I naively asked Terri if that’s what she wanted for Christmas, she said “NEVER buy things for the kitchen for me for Christmas!” Message received, loud and clear. So I said, hey buy it for me for Christmas then, and she did. We have used it over and over again for countless soups, stews and specialty meals, and it is always a joy to get it out of the cupboard and onto the stove. We know a good meal is in the making!
I used to think that I was one of very few men in America who would willingly go into a kitchen store with his wife, but it’s been amazing to see how many men do most of the cooking when we watch reality TV shows on people buying homes across the USA. When we are in the fabulous little town of LaConner, we always stop in at The Ginger Grater and Olive Shoppe to see what’s new. One time we stumbled across this fry pan made by Zyliss, and bought it based on the owner’s glowing recommendation. It has been a terrific workhorse for us. It has a non-PFOA nonstick coating that is better than every other non-stick pan we’ve had, including one from Colophon. It heats evenly, and cleans super-easy every time.
We are fortunate to have a Le Creuset store in an outlet center near us … we popped in one day, and found a pan we just could not resist. The closest thing I can find on their website is a “Cassadou,” but ours is wider, and not as deep. After the Zyliss fry pan above, this may be our most-used pan. No crowding here when cooking up a big batch of chicken, or the Tuscan Chicken with Garbanzo Beans!
We were wandering around Whidbey Island doing an artist studio tour one year, and came across this beautiful ceramic cookpot. It is basically on display on the open bottom shelf of our sideboard. We haven’t used it as much as I thought we would, but it sure adds beauty to our eating area – and Terri just found a recipe for Vegetarian Butternut Squash Chili with Black Beans that just cries out to be cooked in this pot.
Well, Congratulations! You actually read this all the way to the end! Pots and pans aren’t a very exciting topic, but having the right tools for the job at your disposal can make all the difference in your cooking experience. Now, let’s get cooking!
If you watch this quick video of Chef Emirl Lagasse, you’ll get the gist of how I cook in 20 seconds. Click HERE to jump right to the Menu Planning and Recipes for this week. Or, just keep reading for “the rest of the story.” One day years ago, I realized how much I am tuned-in to the stimulation of my senses. I love using my sight to enrapture me with the beauty of nature, with art, and capturing the wonderment of life. I love listening to music, and marvel as some of it reaches way down deep inside of me. I love to use my sense of touch to translate the physical external into the areas of the soul. Now, can we get to taste?? I have no recollection of when the desire to experience the multifaceted dimensions of flavor started. It may have been the first time I had a hot pepper, or hot sauce.
I started to learn about herbs, how they grew, which herb went best with main dish ingredients. While my garden size is a bit diminished, I still grow much of our herbs. Sage, Rosemary, Thyme and Oregano are perennials that we can pick fresh practically year around. In the outdoor growing season, we always grow Basil and Jalapeno Peppers, with varied success. Tarragon and Parsley have carried over the winter occasionally, always a treat to see them going strong after a long winter.
Then, the Coup’ de Gras – our indoor, year-around AeroGarden herb garden. Totally hydroponic, easy to care for, this little guy produces copious amounts of fresh herbs; right now we have two types of Basil, and Mint, which far outlasted the Oregano, Parsley and Thyme. During the bland months of winter, a small handful of Basil in a green salad just makes the whole thing dance in your mouth.
And we haven’t even started talking about Spices! The brightness and depth they can bring to meals is simply the difference between a frozen TV dinner and your mother’s cooking. As I tried one spice, I had to try the next, and the next, and the next. Now, as you can see, we have two drawers full of spices and dried herbs. In my Recipes and Menu planning page, you’ll see Zucchini and Spinach Chilaquiles. You may notice that we have always raved about it … BUT, we “made it our own” by adding ground meat and the six spices at the top of the page that made it turn from Good to GREAT! Note there are no measurements for these spices, just add according to your taste. Click here for the recipe.
Here are a few of my must-have spices:
Granulated Onion & Granulated Garlic So easy to add another layer of flavor! I always use them on roasted chicken, in soups and stews, and as my inspiration dictates.
Chili Powder … which should include Medium and hot Chili Powder, Ground Chipotle and let’s just throw in Cayenne for fun. Adding a half-teaspoon of one of these to a boring dish will indeed “kick it up a notch. POW!”
Cumin It’s not “Mexican” if it doesn’t have Cumin in it! Also good on chicken.
Jerk Seasoning – but please, do me a favor. If you don’t make your own, PLEASE look for a salt-free version! They are typically scary-high in sodium, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to anyone.
Curry Haha, “curry.” There must be 100,000 recipes for curry, regional variations on down to grandma’s recipe. Right now we have 10 spice jars with different curries in them. Curries can be anywhere from mild to burn-your-face-off. Do a bit of homework, then find something with more than the word Curry on it.
Herbs and Spices! Growing up, my dad was a “meat-and-potatoes” guy, salt and pepper only. Mom had a few tins of herbs in red-and-white tins – Shilling? – that were primarily used for stuffing in the Thanksgiving turkey. That and a dash of cinnamon for her home-made applesauce. Spicy spices were never even a thing, and still aren’t for some family members. But now, here I am, clearly an herb and spice addict, always wanting more. More layers of flavors, using alchemy to synthesize a whole new dimension in taste. Onward, fearless cooks! Be generous with the herbs and spices you employ to bring enjoyment to those around you. Now, let’s get cooking!
P.S. Our FAVORITE place to buy herbs and spices is online, from Penzy’s. I can’t recommend them enough! What herbs or spices other than the above are in your “must have” list? Asking for a friend…
At the end of May, 1972, my mom told me she had breast cancer. As she underwent treatment, she also did research, and found a link between the hormone DES that was fed to beef at the time and was linked to cancer. I was already exploring healthier eating options, as well as eastern religions, so I decided to stop eating beef (and lamb and pork and other mammals) for one year. I never started again, and so was spared all the angst of Mad Cow Disease, and later all the links with heart disease.
More recently, we had our own encounter with the “big C”, and took a closer look at our diet, and determined that using as much organic food as possible could be very beneficial to our health. While it is tough to absolutely prove it, this study seems to show a 25% reduced risk from cancer by eating organic foods. Read how eating organic can reduce cancer risk link here: https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/323407
The problem with conventionally grown fruits and vegetables is the residual pesticides, herbicides and other chemicals. Many of them are linked to cancer in humans; they are absorbed into the cell structure of plants, and cannot be washed off. The Environmental Working Group has a list of foods that are the worst to buy that are conventionally raised:
EWG’s 2020 Shopper’s Guide to Pesticides in Produce
EWG’s 2020 Shopper’s Guide to Pesticides in Produce™
+ Hot Peppers
Eating organic can be more expensive, so EWG also put together a list of the Clean Fifteen, foods you can safely buy and eat that don’t need to be organic:
EWG’s 2020 Shopper’s Guide to Pesticides in Produce™
2. Sweet Corn*
6. Sweet Peas Frozen
14. Honeydew Melon
The * denotes plants that may use genetically altered seeds.
Organic fruits and vegetables are now widely available at Fred Meyer (Kroger), Walmart, Target, and even Costco! Our very favorite place to shop and get the very best in organics is at our local farmers markets. Generally they are picked the same day, so they are incredibly fresh, and often young and tender, plus they often offer many more varieties.
Things we didn’t used to think about: raisins are just dried grapes, which is #6 on the dirty list. Oats aren’t on the list, but we use them a lot for our home-made granola, so we get organic. Canned tomatoes, pasta sauce and salsa uses tomatoes, #10 of the dirty list, so we go organic there, as well as canned beans.
Finally, a huge percentage of organic foods are grown on smaller farms, grown by independent farmers. In this day and age of huge conglomerates taking over the world, it feels good to support the little guy/gal trying to make the world a better place. Food grown with love and cooked with love … we think that’s a win/win!
Looking for our menu planner and recipes? Click this link, or on the blog menu, click on the Recipe and Menu Planner .
I felt so many emotions when I got my second COVID vaccine shot, knowing that by April, I’d be almost 100% protected from catching coronavirus. Could it be true? Could we start to think about resuming our “normal” lives again?
Slowly, we did. We did our own grocery shopping again. We went to outdoor restaurants. We didn’t mask up when we met other hikers on trails. We planned and took a 4,000 road trip. We still exercised caution, wearing masks while in grocery stores and other retail settings. We didn’t dine inside restaurants, and we avoided large, densely packed crowds. But we went to a friend’s house for dinner. We had family over for dinner and games. We started a local wine-tasting group, and had +/- 20 people attending our events. After a year and a half of extreme isolation, we weren’t quite sure what our boundaries were, but we kept exploring them. We were cautiously optimistic that things would continue to slowly get better and better.
And then news started trickling in about a new gunslinger in town, one who was twice as fast and more deadly than the one that was still dying in the street. The trickle of news turned into a steady stream, and then became a raging torrent. Vaccinated people were testing positive for COVID; rarely in the hospital, and even more rarely dying than the unvaccinated, but suddenly it felt like the rug was being yanked out from under our feet.
I guess part of me always expected something like this to happen, which is why we kept our guard up a bit. The “Spanish” Flu lasted from February 1918 until April 1920, with four waves, with an estimated 20 – 50 million deaths, although it could have been much more. So, if history is a guide, we can expect COVID to last until spring of 2022 at least.
Am I ready to batten down the hatches against this killer storm? No! Every day I fight a battle between trying to be (safely) normal, and going to bed and pulling the covers over my head for another 8 – 10 months. And that might be optimistic, as the Delta variant is twice as transmissibile as the flu or common cold. So, I just ordered more N95 masks, as it appears to be the only mask that works against this bug. I’m vetting everyone we come into contact with, risking their wrath vs. getting ill, by asking if they are vaccinated. We want the wind at our backs, blowing airborne pathogens away from us when we are out and about. We will make the most of warm, sunny days when we can safely and comfortably be outside with others. Because winter is coming. Long, dark, damp and dreary, the outlook is even more bleak. Pull up the drawbridge; close the entrance to the cave. Death is at the door.
Okay, that was bleak. The good news (so far) is that it’s estimated only 1% of vaccinated people will have a “breakthrough” infection, and only a tiny fraction of those people will die. This ship may be wrecked, and the waves and troughs of the storm frightening, but there are life jackets available, and the shore is not that far away. Jesus, calm the storm and preserve us, please.