Friday, August 29, 2014

Easy Cucumber Appetizers

I’ve got some monster cucumbers in the backyard, the result of being gone to various fun spots this summer, and the cucumbers have languished.

But they are just the right size for appetizers.  Sliced ¼ inch thick, one can top them with all sorts of things.

Mango Coconut Pepper Peanut Chips

 
Slice cucumber into 10 slices, each ¼ inch thick.
Top each with 1 Tbsp. cottage cheese.
On that, place 2 tsp of mango coconut pepper sauce (from Costco)
On that, sprinkle chopped peanuts









Feta Cheese, Balsamic Dressing and Kalamata Olives

Slice cucumber into 10 slices, each ¼ inch thick
Top with 1 Tbsp feta cheese
On that, place ½ tsp of balsamic dressing
On that, place ½ Kalamata olive, cut in half


These look really pretty on a colorful plate.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Bears Are Bigger in the North Cascades

There’s no doubt that the North Cascades National Park is one of the prettiest places on earth.  Lucky us, that our friends from France purchased some land near there a few years ago, built a house, and invited us and other jolly friends for happy times.  We look like an advertisement for merlot, sitting around a table with gourmet food, laughing, talking about politics, religion, marriage, children, jokes, and memories. 

One of their friends from France was determined to see some wildlife, and in the Cascades, it is not that hard to spot something.  They took us for a pretty walk alongside the Stetattle Creek, north of Lake Diablo. 

The French friend Etienne, and JP, the host, went up a hillside trail.  Etienne went ahead to spot a deer or elk or even a marmot if they got high enough.  Maybe a mountain goat?  Etienne was quiet and determined.  After climbing higher, he saw some bushes moving. He paused.  Deer?  A fawn?  Two cinnamon-colored, round ears rose from the bush, then two eyes, then a huge muzzle.  Etienne turned and ran back down the trail and hid behind JP.


Right behind him was the bear.  JP knew that running from a bear is useless, they can outdistance any human athlete.  But JP’s got a set of lungs on him from years of hiking in the Alps and rooting at hockey games.  He bellowed at the running bear, which made a right turn off the trail and fled down the mountain, a terrifying and altogether beautiful sight of liquid velvet muscle and fur.


Etienne confessed he had a lot to tell him friends back in France, and JP hoped he would get the story right of who hid, and who scared off the bear.

The next day everyone went out hiking again, this time taking more friends and a miniature Austrailian Shepherd named Ayla.


There were some fast hikers and some slow, and the two groups became further apart.  This drove Ayla crazy, and she ran back in forth between the two groups trying to herd them together.

JP, being the charming host, stayed behind and led the slower hikers, even though he could outdistance us all with his high altitude lungs. 

Suddenly Ayla came flying back down the trail and kept going, terrified.  Up ahead, we heard someone shouting, “Bear!  Bear!”

Chasing Ayla was a huge black form.  This time JP did not bellow, he just stood there.  The massive black animal crashed into him, stood over him, and then started licking him.  We just stood there gaping as JP yelled, “Get offa me!”

Running down the trail were strangers, continuing to shout warnings about the bear.  Etienne grabbed the monster by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off of JP.

“Bad dog, Bear,” scolded the strangers, taking hold of the Great Dane’s collar from Etienne.  Bear’s tongue lolled in his smiling face.  “So sorry,” they apologized.

JP rose from his near death experience, his eyes like fried eggs.

“I hope you get this story right,” Etienne told him.  “Un chien. Seul un chien.”

“It wasn’t only a dog,” protested JP. “You must confess it was a very BIG dog.”




Monday, August 18, 2014

Pink Roses and See's Candies

It wasn’t especially sad.  She was the happiest person I’ve ever known.  I can only smile when I think of her. 

Her name was Marjorie.  Last Sunday, her family gathered at the rocky beach of Lake Crescent, in the Olympic National Park in Washington State.  The lake was utterly still.  The rainforest held back the rain, staunchly showing only misty sunlight.  We placed a vase of pink roses beside the edge of the lake, a canoe at the ready to launch them forth.

One brother gave the eulogy.  The other brother read a moving tribute.  People gazed at the firs and cedars silently reaching heavenward on the slopes of a mountain named Storm King.  

I read a blog post (posted last September on this site) called Post Apocalyptic House.  One can’t help having a few tears at the memorial service, and we had a popular box of Kleenex in the middle of our circle.

At that point, we all took a rose from the vase and inserted it in a grapevine wreath, which was launched into the water and tied offshore while a simple guitar played Amazing Grace softly in the background.

Then, we raised a toast to Marjorie with her favorite thing: See’s candies.  My husband wrote a little poem for her on her 90th birthday, three years ago:

She loves candies from dear Mrs. See’s.
Pass me one more, if you please.
Though I live here in So Cal,
I’ve no need of things low cal,
Just put the box here on my knees.

We laughed at hearing it again.


All week, as we swam, kayaked, watched toddler grandchildren wade and make mud pies, the rose wreath was near the beach action, precisely where Marjorie would want to be.  Before we came home, we took the roses and one by one cast them in the middle of the lake, or left them in the forest.  I turned to see the one I left. It was under a fern, the sunlight steaming down through the great old growth forest.


A laugh, a cry, a soft August morning. 

Bye Mom.  Enjoy all the See’s candies and roses in heaven.  I love you.



Friday, August 8, 2014

Better Take a Number

Being the proud, if confused, new owners of a travel trailer, we needed to go get the title changed.  So we head down to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get the proper forms filled out.  On the first try down at the licensing agency, it turns out we are missing one, so contact the owner and after several days, get the form signed.  Thus armed with papers and signatures, we stride into the licensing office to do business.

Imagine our surprise when there is not one single person in line.  None whatsoever.  We grin at each other and walk up to the counter to hand the man our papers.

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I can’t help you, you need to go to the window titled Titles.”

“Oh.”  We look at the signs and we are in the wrong line.  So we go over to the window titled Titles, just like he said.

Who should appear but the same man.  We hand him the papers.

He doesn’t touch them, for a second man instructs us, “You need to take a number.”

“But there is no one here.”

You need to take a number.

We find the number machine and take a number.  It’s 23.  We stand there for a moment, expecting him to call us. 

Nope.  We take a seat.  After we sit, the man who told us to take a number gets on the loudspeaker and says, “NOW SERVING NUMBER 23.”  The building reverberates.  Apparently, sitting is a required function.

We walk to the window ready to do business, but the two men are busy elsewhere.  This too must be a required function of the process.  After a few moments of standing there, the first man comes to help us.

He can’t figure out what model of travel trailer we have, so we tell him to find the closest description and make a guess.  We might have well told him to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger.  He gasped.

After ten minutes of puzzlement and discussion, we figure out the model number.

In California, they call the licensing place the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV).  Here in Washington, it’s called the Department of Licensing (DOL).  One should know this before wasting a check by making it out to the wrong acronym.

The titles are eventually printed and signed in the correct places, and we heave a sigh of relief.

As we head out the door, we whisper to the innocent walking in, “Better take a number.”

Monday, August 4, 2014

Don't Worry About the Grandchildren

Hi Honey,
Glad you had a nice time at your party. We loved babysitting the grand twins.  They were so good. Toddlers are so delightful.

Thanks for letting me bring Banjo.  Sorry he pooped on the floor the minute we got there. I was on my way to clean it up but Ellie dropped a book in it.  Don't worry, we thoroughly washed Ellie's hand with super soap.  Also sorry he chewed up a block from John's childhood but I think we did a nice job with the chop saw.  Copper was very tolerant of Banjo trying to bite his ears and hump him all night.  I'm kinda surprised because Banjo's only a puppy.  Banjo's just exhausted today. Ha, ha!  Dogs!

We got the new bubble making machine out and the kids do a great job with it.  They figured out how to press that little button to turn it on. Jack showed us that the little fan that blows the bubbles would not hurt his finger.  Ellie's hair was another story though, and I believe I did a pretty good job cutting the bubble machine out.  It is off to one side so you barely notice that it is short there.

Your new deck is glorious!  We decided to hose it off so that you wouldn't slip on all the soap we used blowing bubbles.  And since the broom was soapy too, we decided to use it to scrub off your back door where Copper's muddy footprints were.  That wasn't working, so I found some Pine Sol, and Dad found a brush and we went after it.  Do you have any paint?  We can repaint next time we're there where I brushed a leetle too hard and the paint came off.  Dad had this great idea to use the hose to spray it clean.  Did you know that your backdoor is not watertight?  The water went in your pantry, under the water heater and cat box.

Those Swiffers don't work so well on floods.  No worries!  I found some rags and cleaned up most of it, got the cat box out and (sorry) it slipped and dropped cat litter everywhere.  I'm pretty sure I got most of it, but some of it went under the water heater and I couldn't quite reach it.  Don't worry that the kids got into it, Dad took them into their room.

They invented a great new game!  Dump the Blocks.  Put all the blocks in one bucket, hold it as high as you can, the DUMP THE BLOCKS into another bucket.  Jack just loved it.  Chuck and Meredith from next door came over and wanted to know if everything was okay because you know how boys like to scream. Chuck really likes your beer, by the way.  I hope we didn't give him that special stuff you got in Roslyn.  That wasn't the beer in the growler, was it?

I'm pretty sure I got most of the water and cat litter up off your new kitchen floor, and it was getting near bath time, so we headed the kids into the bathroom.  I did as you said and set the kids on the potty.  Success from both kids.  Jack's not too good at aiming yet.  His little thing can really squirt, but it only got on Dad.  Dad laughs at anything.  I gave them smiley faces on their chart, but you know, I'm not sure I'd let them use that permanent marker to draw the faces.  Ellie drew a really big one.  I think you need a bigger piece of paper.  We can paint over it where it went all over the wall.  They wanted smiley faces on themselves too.  I thought that clown I drew on Ellie's stomach came out pretty well.  It got a little bigger than I planned, but it is still pretty cute.

Into the tub, and a bit more water mess.  Ha, ha.  That's why that pile of rags and towels are sitting on your washing machine.

The kids got a little sad when it was time for bed and missed you and their Daddy, so we got your picture and looked at it and sang that ear worm song about Mama and Dada.  Jack wanted to hold it and so did Ellie.  We can get you a new piece of glass for the frame, don't worry.  Nobody got cut.  We put them down and they only called us in once to retrieve binkies from the floor.  Dad tripped over some of the blocks that didn't make it in the bucket and smashed one of his front teeth when he fell against the changing table, but no worries, they are implants and didn't break.  Changing table is fine.

Chuck and Meredith said thanks for the beer, but since it was all gone they had better go.  Ha, ha, they are just hilarious people.  So much laughter.  That Meredith can laugh like a monkey and it just cracks me up.

So there you go, we had no trouble whatsoever.  Hope you had a good time at your party.
Love, Mom