Archives

All the Elements

Apr29

I’m grateful that despite the feeling that spring would never come, it did! The little red tulips are starting to open, the first dandelions are blooming, and the air was almost balmy today as I worked outside tidying the patio for outdoor living again.

One project I’ve been contemplating was moving the phoebe platform and clearing off the old nests. I was so happy to see a phoebe fluttering around and checking it out a couple of weeks ago, and sad that no one moved in. I’m grateful I can still climb a ladder and wield a screw gun; even though I pre-drilled into the joists I still couldn’t get a couple of the screws all the way in, but it’s solid enough to hold a nest.

Here’s the side of the old nest that they used for three years, building it up each time. They like a particular kind of niche for their nest, where it’s protected above and on the sides, to prevent jays or magpies from getting to their chicks, which I think happened one time. I hope that moving the platform over so there is one wide and protected ledge will encourage them to try again. Meanwhile, someone else used their old tall nest for storage and maybe warmth over winter…

As usual, I was grateful for so many things today. I was grateful to spend a quiet morning outside, and then to come inside for a belly laugh and long-distance exercise session with my cousin. I was grateful for a cheese sandwich for lunch and for all the elements of it that came from across the hemisphere to coalesce in my little house in this moment in a delicious blend of homemade sourdough, mayonnaise, Havarti cheese, wild-caught Alaskan smoked salmon, organic romaine, and avocados from Mexico, seasoned with Penzeys Sandwich Sprinkle and who knows where all those spices came from.

I’m grateful for this beautiful handmade red wineglass I used to save for special occasions–until I realized that every evening I’m alive and cooking is a special occasion. Like so many things in my house, this glass holds not only what it’s designed for but the story of its provenance and some meaningful connection: in this case with the dear friend who gave it to me for my fiftieth birthday, at a party that’s a story in itself. Each moment interconnects with every other.

I’m grateful for a healthy dinner of kale and walnut pasta, with garlic, mushrooms, fresh lemon juice, and grated parmesan, seasoned with salt, pepper, and Penzeys Revolution blend. I’m grateful for Penzeys’ integrity and activism as well as their spice blends, which is one reason I mention them so often. They just concluded a 50% off sale on all spices starting with B and C, as well as $1 ‘Fox Point not Fox News’ special, in acknowledgement of the misogynistic work environment at a certain cable network. It takes real … nerve for a retail business to be as politically upfront as Penzeys.

I’m grateful for all the elements of my meals today, and for all the people and energy and resources it took to get the ingredients from the far-flung corners of the globe to the shelves of my refrigerator and pantry, from the unknown walnut and lemon growers to the Italian pasta makers to my patient personal shopper who works for cookies. I’m grateful for the friends I see in person and those I see online and those I haven’t met yet, as well as those I mostly see in the tangible recollections that populate my home.

Spring Flowers

Apr27

I’m grateful for spring flowers, in the garden and in the forest. Like clockwork, I heard the first hummingbird yesterday, only a day later than usual, and this afternoon saw the first paintbrush bloom which must have opened yesterday: the two events invariably synchronize.

I’m grateful for all the green resulting from the banner winter water… but only in the fields. This lush green carpet is entirely made of two noxious weeds: bur buttercup, the lighter green; and weedy alyssum. The alyssum is annoying when it goes to seed, while the bur buttercup is downright hostile. Soon Wren won’t be able to stand on it, when those precious tiny blossoms turn to hard round stickers.

In the meantime, we rested on a bench under the Ancient One, and then strolled home. I’m grateful for her happy ignorance; we both enjoyed the balm for the eyes when I could shelve my awareness of what this forest floor will become in the hot dry summer. At least some native grasses will have a good year.

And in the yard? Oh my. Again, it’s pretty now, but in a week or so I’ll be mowing daily until I get these weeds under control. So though I’m grateful for many things today, green is not one of them, not really. In fact, looking at these weeds makes a little sense out of the nightmare I woke from this morning, where I had spent hours crawling through one obstacle after another trying to find clear sky.

Topaz doesn’t give a damn. She’s just happy, and so am I, that we can go sit down by the pond again at last, and listen to the frogs.

I’m grateful for another day alive, and grateful I was patient with a handful of quotidian frustrations; grateful for a wonderful MIR meeting despite skippy internet and thankful for the warm support and acceptance of the group. And I was glad to wrap up the day with a delicious spontaneous ginger-ice cream sandwich to take the edge off the melancholy that has dogged me since that disconcerting dream, and hit hard this evening when I came across some photos of Stellar in his last spring.

Eating Well

Apr23

I’m trying hard to eat better these days, incorporating more vegetables and fewer sweets. I’m halfway there! Lots more greens have made their way into my diet, but I still bake too much and am addicted to dark chocolate M&Ms. I saw the idea for a ‘Spring Roll Bowl’ the other day, and so whipped one up for lunch. The idea is simple: throw everything you’d want in a spring roll together in a wok and then put it in a bowl.

I started by coating firm tofu cubes in cornstarch and browning them, then added a shallot and Chimayo pepper from the freezer. After a couple minutes I tossed in celery, garlic, and shredded cabbage, along with a splash of the Pad Thai sauce mentioned yesterday. After that was cooked down a bit I added carrots and radish.

I topped the bowl with bean sprouts and peanuts for extra crunch. So simple, so delicious!

Wren got a little antsy while I was eating lunch and had a romp with her pony.

Later we spent some time outside where the yellow tulips are bringing joy to all.

Awhile after that it was nap time. And now it’s bedtime. I’m grateful for waking up alive, spring flowers, and eating well. I’m also grateful for sharing cake and dog stories in a quick visit from Marla. Our conversation turned to housecleaning or lack thereof, and we both raved about the same New Yorker article by Ann Patchett, about preparing for our eventual demise by clearing clutter. We had both listened to it, and I recommend that option to anyone who has started thinking about dealing with all their stuff…

Present Moment Awareness

Apr22
Inside the Kaleidoscope this morning, waking to another light snow

I set an intention this morning to fully inhabit the present moment as often as possible today. The alarm had jolted me awake from a dream feeling a certain type of way, and my first impulse was to try to go back into the dream–into the past–and I experienced a moment of clarity to let it go and simply be present in this moment, hearing snowmelt dripping from the tower roof onto the metal roof overhead, feeling the light of morning, the soft sheets, the warm little dog. I was able to inhabit that experience of the present moment, and appreciate it as pleasant, without thinking of the past or the future. I’m grateful for the practice of present moment awareness.

I enjoyed making these marinated lentils to use in salads for the coming week, and sautéed some kale and garlic for a bed, dressed it with Pad Thai sauce I made the other day to have on hand for quick stir fries this week, and garnished with pickled red onions leftover from the fancy sandwich I tried out last week. Here’s a picture of that since I couldn’t share it at the time because no internets.

Fancy sandwich I used to ‘soothe and distract’ from frustrations last week… Butternut squash and cheddar cheese with pickled red onions and garlic herb mayo. I threw in some sprouts as well.
I savored the scent of this bonsai jasmine vine for awhile this afternoon, after it lured me in as I passed by. I stopped and enjoyed a little snack after teaching class. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share mindfulness skills with others, and for the friendships that develop as we learn from each other.

I’m grateful that the little naturalizing tulips, Tulipa tarda, finally burst into bloom after the clouds cleared this afternoon, and that I made the time to be with and appreciate them. Topaz seemed pleased to see them as well.

And I was fully present in the moment with my snack, daffodil cake and vanilla ice cream, in the sunroom, with the jasmine, and the ancestral jade lion, the bonsai lemon verbena, and all the other growing flowering beings in that room. I’m grateful for all these sensory delights, and also for the deeper meaning they signify, of my devotion and gratitude to Mother Earth for her unstinting generosity to the greediest of species as well as to the most gentle and unassuming. I do my best to honor and protect her, and to deserve her bounty. Happy Earth Day.

The Internets

Apr18
Wren tries out her front-pack, for when I need to carry her on long or cold walks. She is a little big for the size Large, but she seemed pretty comfortable in it.

After four full days without the internet, I’ve sure had some time to process how much I rely on it not only day to day but minute by minute. I’m grateful to have ‘the internets’ (as one of our more eloguent presidents called it) back after all this time, and to have had the time to recognize how essential it’s become to my work, entertainment, and planning. No weather forecasts, no Picard, no ability to upload videos, and the podcast has been languishing this whole time, almost ready to upload but with this software I couldn’t even finalize it without internet.

It was indeed the magnificent THUNdersnow that knocked out the tower on Friday afternoon, as I suspected. Tight-lipped Rise Broadband finally confirmed that in an email this afternoon, while I was at the dentist getting a back molar prepped for my first-ever crown. I’m also grateful for dentists, and dental care, and oral hygiene; I’m grateful for a wedge of pineapple upside down cake which was all my sore mouth felt like eating tonight after I woke up from a nap after the afternoon in the dental chair. I’m grateful for nitrous oxide which made the ordeal feel almost like a spa treatment. I’m super tired, and heading to bed, but grateful to be reconnected with the world.

Spring at Last

Apr9
The flowering jasmine is flowering its fragrant white star blooms. I bought this online a couple of years ago after a friend and teacher in Australia mentioned that the jasmine HEDGE in her yard was blooming. I’d always wanted a bonsai jasmine, so I got this one to honor her. The lovely jade tiger is an ancestral memento.
…and the way she watches me…
And I’m grateful that she doesn’t always watch me, but lives her own adventuresome life as well. Today we walked to the canyon rim for the first time. It made me feel silly: I missed yesterday’s Wordle, which is rare for me, and it was LEDGE. Duh. Ice Canyon is melting…

I’m grateful for Spring at Last! Suddenly, after the long wait, just as in This is Happiness, precipitation ceased and sun emerged just in time for Easter. Today was beautiful from start to finish, and we spent as much time outside as possible. I hooked up a couple of hoses for the first time since November to rinse off some stuff. Wren made the most of the snowmelt by rolling in every possible blend of dirt, and wasn’t happy when I lifted her onto the table to document it.

“Can you plant garlic in spring?” I was asked a month ago. Yes, you can! Though I don’t know how well it will bulb, it has certainly sprouted well.
I’m grateful for a smoothie outside in the late afternoon under the apricot tree on Easter Sunday. The smoothie includes half a frozen banana, some pineapple chunks, soy milk, protein powder, flax meal, frozen blueberries, fresh ginger, coconut cream, lemon juice, a large kale leaf, and a little water. And maybe something else, I don’t remember. And the straw is washable and reusable silicone. There was no bunny, but Wren did her best to impersonate one.

Citizen Science

Apr8
My little dingo works on a chew-bone

I just learned about another doggie DNA lab. This one is a non-profit research organization called Darwin’s Ark. You can pay for a DNA test kit, or you can get on the waitlist to get a free one if you answer 10 short questionnaires about your dog. There are 26 questionnaires, each with around 10 questions. I answered all of them, but I doubt that will bump me up in the list. They rely on grants and donations, and only run the DNA tests when they get enough money and a certain number of entrants. So it could be years before I get to do this test for Wren, but I’m interested to see if it provides more information about her breed mix than the first one. They use substantially more genetic markers than Embark, which uses the most of any commercial lab. Even if you don’t want to get the DNA test, the questionnaires still provide valuable data as they work on issues like dog cancer, and ticks.

This is just one of the many citizen science projects that technology and the world wide web make available to anyone to participate in. I’m grateful for these opportunities to provide our everyday observations to teams that can learn and discover. Some others are: I See Change, which was born in the North Fork Valley and now has participants around the world measuring and sharing climate change in their backyards; eBird from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology gathering bird sightings from around the world to advance research and conservation; and CoCoRahs, the Community Collaborative Rain, Hail and Snow Network, which started 25 years ago on Colorado’s Front Range and now has participants throughout North America and beyond. Technically I’m a member of all these, though I’ve let my participation in a couple of them slide in recent years. National Geographic also has a list of fine citizen science opportunities.

Birdsong

Apr6
What can you expect? I couldn’t get a picture of birdsong, nor even any birds, so here’s today’s cheese sandwich. The slices are getting smaller toward the heel, so I supplemented lunch with bean salad.

I’m grateful for a cloudless, bluebird sky day, without snow! There hasn’t been a day this lovely since last fall. It started with a phone call from a neighbor that broke through my DND wall at 8:45 am. He saw smoke from his place west of here that looked like it was coming from my house. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Living among junipers most of us have a panic button when we see smoke. I was so grateful not only that he called, but that he called back when he didn’t get through the first time, so Do-Not-Disturb deactivated for him. It’s a great feature on these smart phones, for which I’m also grateful.

There’s a tower in my house, so I ran up there with binoculars and was able to identify the location of the smoke as coming from a neighbor’s place a little farther east, and to confidently surmise that he was burning a slash pile. He’s a responsible forester, the ground is wet, and the smoke was small, so I wasn’t concerned. But I was grateful for the feeling of being interconnected in this neighborhood where we look out for one another. And I’m always happy to climb the tower ladder and scope smokes.

The day warmed up just enough to spend a little time outside between work and teaching, and while I was out there I sat down to listen to the first continuous birdsong I’ve heard this year. The Woodhouse’s Scrub Jays were yakking at each other flashing through the trees, and magpies were scolding something, but there were finches singing, and a flock of crows flew overhead. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a crow here; we have mostly ravens. But crows are expanding westward ho, and about forty of them flew overhead cawing together. I was dumbstruck. I savored the present moment with the mix of birds… and listened hopefully for the call of a Say’s Phoebe. Not yet, but hope floats.

So Much

Apr5

Or I could have titled this ‘Reading’ again. Or ‘Bibliofillies.’ Our book club celebrated its 18th anniversary this month with one of the best books we’ve ever read. Everyone gave it two thumbs up, and some of us included more fingers and toes. I personally gave it five thumbs up, who’s to say how many I get to give? I mean, if I can give zero fucks about something like … well, then surely I can give more thumbs up than are apparent, right?

This book is hands down one of the best reads I’ve experienced in my short life. And that’s what it’s about, life. Just the depth and breadth of “the ordinary orbit of one life,” which “at the time you’re living it you can sometimes think your life is nothing much…”

“Story was the stuff of life, and to realize you were inside one allowed you to sometimes surrender to the plot, to bear a little easier the griefs and sufferings and to enjoy more fully the twists that came along the way.” This gorgeous Irish novel is about living each day with awareness and gratitude, kindness and compassion, and I felt honored that some of my fellow Fillies thought of me and the mindfulness that I preach as they were reading it. When we can step back and observe the reality of our unique and precious life as it unfolds, one breath, one detail at a time, we can more deeply appreciate each moment.

I can’t recommend this book highly enough to anyone. Please do yourself a favor, if you love to read, and get it now. Those Fillies who listen to books claim that it’s about if not the best narration they’ve ever listened to, and I don’t doubt them. I was glad I could hear the Irish brogue in my head, and several-many times I read a passage aloud to Wren, in my own poor imitation of the lyrical accent.

Speaking of lyrical, I found myself with a spare half hour this morning, and cracked open my piano for the first time in a year. Not only am I grateful for being able to read words, and for everyone who contributed to this skill, but I’m grateful for the ability to read music, and to Mrs. Tankel for teaching me that skill starting when I was in the first grade through high school.

I haven’t played much since the kittens came, and that’s amazingly coming up on eight years; I haven’t played at all since Covid, because the piano is a tiny bit out of tune, and, well, I just didn’t call the tuner. Until this afternoon: and he has put me in his rotation and will be here sometime this month. I’m grateful for John Blackburn, the hottest piano tuner on the western slope and maybe anywhere, and for Neighbor Robert, who tuned me into him. I’m also grateful to Robert for one day dropping the line, “…and of course you have Hanon,” to which I responded with an eloquent “huh?” And he gave me the Virtuoso Pianist exercise book that might have made all the difference when I was learning piano as a child. It’s a joy to play.

Wren isn’t too sure about piano, since today was the first time she heard it, but she was game, and stuck her nose in the way between my hands for a few exercises, but left as I began to play a Schubert waltz. She was long gone before I tried to sing along with ‘King of the Road,’ but that’s okay. I don’t need her with me every single moment. I’m so grateful that I have a piano, and to the Colonel for giving it as his last gift to me, and that I knew when I closed it the last time that I would get back to it eventually.

And I’m grateful, as always, for the inestimable cheese sandwich. And really, in the course of a day, this is just the tip of the iceberg of what I’m grateful for: so much!

A New Kitchen Trick

Apr2

If only pictures could capture scents. I love when I walk through the sunroom and a beautiful aroma stops me in my tracks, leads my nose to it. This morning it was this front orchid, whose name I’ve long lost. Like other fragrant orchids, it pulses its scent on its own schedule and always takes me by surprise.

I’m always grateful to learn a new kitchen trick. I saw on Instagram a hack to use up the last bit of peanut butter in the jar by adding soy sauce, honey, rice vinegar, minced garlic, sriracha, and some warm water to make a tasty peanut sauce. I’ve cleaned out two mayo jars since then in a similar way, adding to the last few tablespoons instead of trying to scrape them out. Today I threw in a tablespoon of Penzey’s Peppercorn dressing mix, some Greek yogurt, a bit of oil and vinegar, and a dollop of maple syrup, and shook til it was well blended. Then I doused this random mix of romaine, pickled iceberg, sauerkraut, almonds, bean sprouts, chopped white onion, and a few cubes of Havarti, for a delicious lunch salad.

Why didn’t I have another cheese sandwich? Ack. The Kitchen Ants ate holes in the bread bag. Most of that last beautiful loaf was full of ants… I had sliced it, and they were deep into every slice. I live in peace with the Kitchen Ants, who mostly lay low, but the past couple of weeks they’ve been marauding any crumb I leave on the counter or in the sink. So, as usual, I’m grateful to them for motivating me to keep up with the kitchen, and (as E.O. Wilson invites us to) I marvel at their super skills when they do show up. I thought I’d done a great job putting the kitchen to bed last night when I came in this morning and didn’t see any ants on the counter…

…but then I noticed some on the mottled granite and saw with horror their trail to the bread bag which I’d set on top of this cookie tin. It never occurred to me that they could make holes in the bag, but sure enough it was still zipped shut, and after I dumped it into the compost bin I saw some tiny holes in the bag that no one else could have made. Oh well. I imagine their regular food supply has been flooded out and they’re starving. I’m happy to share my crumbs with them, and I’ll figure out an ant-proof bread solution for the next loaf. I honestly hated to take the antfull bread a hundred ant miles away from their home, but didn’t want to leave it out closer to the house where Wren would have eaten it all.

Who is that sitting in my chair?