Music and Cats

On the way to the Ballard farmers’ market yesterday, I ran into a bit of a delay.

(I love Seattle’s drawbridges. They make me slow down.)

All this hoopla for a little tugboat?

(It was the only ship in sight. Isn’t it cute?)

While we waited for the bridge, we watched each other.

(Is that a dog or a toy? Our little girl cat is twice that size.)

At the market, the sun shone on produce and people.

(Radishes are so pretty! I wish I liked eating them as much as I like photographing them.)

Old-time musicians filled the air with rhythm and song.

(The only instruments that make me happier than banjos are bagpipes.)

Those farmers sure know how to tip the musicians!

(What would you do if someone tipped you with a beautiful savoy cabbage? If your first thought is cooking, and you have a recipe in mind, go tell Shauna about it. Really, she’s asking. Of course, you could tell me, too.)

Seattle is not all rain (or snow) and gray skies this time of year. We have the occasional crisp, sunny winter day — and when one happens to fall on a weekend, the entire population of the city (or so it seems) makes for a nearby park.

The Washington Park Arboretum isn’t the park nearest to our house, but at this time of year, rain or shine, it is my favorite. Nestled in the middle of the arboretum’s 230 acres is the Winter Garden, a small, sheltered space filled with plants that are at their loveliest during Seattle’s darkest months. The bare chartreuse branches of dogwood pop on a field of black mondo grass. Tiny purple violas peek up through velvety, heart-shaped leaves. And the blossoms of sweetbox and witch hazel perfume the paths.

If you’re in Seattle in the next month or so, and have time for a walk, get yourself to the arboretum. When you reach the winter garden, you’ll find small, spreading witch hazel trees covered in crinkly yellow, gold and russet blossoms. Walk up close to a tree. Close your eyes. Inhale deeply. Oh, life is sweet.

Last week, I received an email from a local farmer who was one of my favorites at the Queen Anne market this summer. She wrote that she hoped I was surviving the winter’s meager produce selection. Reading this, I smiled. The local produce available this time of year may not be as varied or abundant as in the summer, but I’m quite happy with what I’m able to find at the winter farmers’ markets. Brussels sprouts and beets, leeks and kale, carrots and cauliflower; I love them all.

My sister has told me that, left to his own devices, her 4-year-old son Reed will eat an entire head of roasted cauliflower. That’s my nephew! I’ve recently taken to roasting cauliflower florets sliced thin (more edges to turn brown and crispy) and drizzled with a sauce of mustard, lemon juice and butter and/or olive oil. The last time I made this dish, one head of cauliflower wasn’t enough for me and Paul. Had Paul not been home, I would’ve finished the entire head myself. When I went to the market today, I planned to pick up another. The cauliflowers were so pretty that I bought three.

A couple of weeks ago, I arrived home from work to find Paul cooking a pot of curried carrot soup. Warmed with freshly grated ginger and curry powder, and swirled with wasabi-spiked sour cream, this soup is the best thing to happen to carrots in our house this winter. In a bit of serendipity, the recipe comes from Jesse Ziff Cool, owner of the Flea Street Cafe, where Paul and I had our rehearsal dinner.

The first tulips and hyacinths of the season are already here! Spring is coming, but winter is far from over. Today, at least, I’m in no hurry for the first tender bites of spring. Winter’s pleasures are enough.

We’re home after an evening of firelight and fireworks, beach and bubbly, sparklers and soup. In a few minutes, I will kiss my husband as the year turns. In the meantime, this little cat is demanding — loudly! — that I pay attention to her… and so I shall.

Happy New Year!

January

After an uncharacteristically snowy early January, the Olympic Sculpture Park opens on a clear weekend. We join twenty-five thousand Seattleites gazing at Calder’s Eagle against a true blue dream of sky.

February

As my first tulips of the year open and lean toward the light, I stop to photograph their maturing beauty.

March

In our house, the only east-facing window upstairs is in the bathroom. While I hate getting up in the dark at this time of year, I certainly do see some lovely sunrises while I’m getting ready for work.

April

Grow where you are planted.

Could a photo say this any more clearly? And perhaps also: Life’s better when you have someone with whom to share it.

May

We spend a weekend in Providence for my 25th college reunion at Brown. I love the many Romanesque Revival buildings on campus; this one has the school’s crest and motto, In deo speramus (In God we hope), carved on its facade. Do you see it there, behind the lacy, spring green branch?

June

Soup’s on at our place — specifically, three pea soup, with split peas, English peas and sugar snap peas. Did I buy the pea-pod print tea towel just for this photo? Would I do such a thing?

(Truth: I bought the tea towels in May, because I thought they’d look good in our kitchen. Let’s call it serendipity.)

July

After months of planning and work, the Queen Anne Farmers’ Market is open. The neighborhood loves the market. The farmers are happy. Life is berry, berry good.

August

Pike Place Public Market, the mother of Seattle’s farmers’ markets, was 100 years old in August. With its salmon-tossing fishmongers, aisles of colorful produce and flowers, and myriad options for a tasty bite to eat, Pike Place is a favorite tourist destination. Locals love the market, too… in winter.

September

We’re off to California for another college reunion, this time for the 30th anniversary of Paul’s first year at Deep Springs College. Besides being an academically challenging school, Deep Springs is also a working ranch. Paul and his friends remember this rake from when they were students.

October

That’s my favorite guy, along with his favorite cat. Look at the squeeze Sergei’s putting on Paul’s arm! Paul is Sergei’s favorite person, too.

November

Our friend Phil comes to stay for Thanksgiving weekend; Janeen joins us Saturday night. On Sunday morning, we have dutch baby pancakes. Love to eat them babies, babies what I loves to eat. Bite they little heads off… And I love our new kitchen, which is now a year old.

December

Another Christmas in Texas. It’s all about the boys. They adore their uncle Paul, who knows much more about being a little boy than does their aunt Kimberly.