triplets

Posted on August 20, 2017 by is there any more pie?

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Last week Mandolin Ann and Bass Man Neil invited me “up the hill” for a yummy eggplant dinner, with special drinks served on the deck before our meal.  And Ann gifted me with three beautiful eggplants.

I love eggplant.

The next day I peeled and sliced all three in long horizontal strips, sweated them with salt, wiped them dry and dipped them in an egg wash.   Then I coated them with Italian bread crumbs and baked them in the oven.  Almost all of them went into the freezer, but I held back enough for a little “eggplant parm” (as they say in Rhode Island).  I used fresh mozzarella and my own cherry tomatoes, sliced.  With fresh basil from the garden and a drizzle of olive oil, it was baked in a small casserole dish until the mozzarella melted.

I may never make eggplant parmigiana the traditional way again.

Check out Thursday’s crop of tomatoes:

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My “tomato jungle” is producing these little gems and I am loving it.  Three tomato plants in pots are about as much of a garden as I can handle or am interested in dealing with.  My many gardening friends absolutely amaze me with their joyful dedication to growing food and flowers.  Ladies, you’re incredible!

Friday Dancing Mandolin Player shared her sweet corn with me.  I ate three ears.  It was absolutely the best sweet corn I’ve ever had in my life.

The free stone peaches are in town, thanks to the Peach Man.  My favorites, the Elbertas, are due next Thursday.  It will be time to make pies again.  Until then I am merely slicing peaches into bowls (and wolfing them down several times a day).

Summer’s bounty has arrived!

 

 

 

 

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leaving spokane

Posted on August 11, 2017 by is there any more pie?

It’s a long drive from Spokane to the lake, but on Tuesday I was armed with music and water, along with looking forward to a stop at the Bear Paw Quilt Shop in Coeur d’Alene.  They opened at 9:30, which meant I could get a good start out of the hotel.

But there was this along Interstate 90, near Post Falls.

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Yep, that’s smoke.

I’d guess that some idiot threw a lit cigarette out of his car and onto the strip of brushy land between the eastbound and westbound lanes.   Four fire trucks were on the scene.

These are scary times here in the Northwest.

On to Coeur d’Alene for a little R&R in the fabric displays.

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My favorite quilt and fabric designer, Kaffe Fassett, is going to be in town in September teaching an all day workshop on design and also giving an evening lecture.  Both events are sold out, unfortunately.  I have all of his books and have made at least 20 of his quilts.  To meet him in person and learn how he goes about designing his quilts would have been a life highlight.

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Here are some of his fabrics.  Yes, they’re bright!  And I love them.

Then it was time to make the 90 minute drive back to the lake.  The smoke from the fires in British Columbia grows thicker every day.  There is no end in sight.  Our Canadian neighbors need rain and lots of it.  We’d greatly appreciate a nice rainy day, too.

Dancing Mandolin Player and I are ready for our gig tomorrow.  We’ve been practicing and trying not to laugh when we forget the lyrics.  There is one song, “Blues Stay  Away From Me”,  that has too many words!  I’m afraid we’re going to mess it up and then get the giggles.

Oh, dear.

If you want to hear us, come to the City Beach tomorrow at 11.  And then you can shop at the Arts & Crafts Festival, an annual event with booth after booth of gorgeous handmade items.  You’ll find me gawking at earrings and sniffing goat milk soap.

 

 

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banjo man’s return

Posted on August 6, 2017 by is there any more pie?

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Somehow every airport trip’s midpoint (maybe 1/3 point?) ends up at Jimmy John’s.  Banjo Man loves the tuna and I like the turkey with avocado.  We debate trying other places, sit down restaurants, etc. but the ease and speed of Jimmy John’s wins every time.

Banjo Man returned with a new smart phone (his first!) and a tablet.  He is quite thrilled and quite intimidated, so this is definitely a work in progress.  This morning we spent a couple of hours with them and then I had to take a break or start drinking tequila at 10 AM–not a good idea–and retreated downstairs to the exercise bike.

I am still hiding here on the lower level.  With iced tea.  I have songs to practice for next weekend and my guitar is friendlier than a Samsung Galaxy.

Check out the fabric for an Idaho baby’s quilt!

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I couldn’t resist.

Yesterday’s stop at the quilt store was so much fun.  They had a good selection of fabric and a huge selection of sewing machines.  The salesman made me a vanilla latte and then we discussed the pros and cons of the Janome 6600 and the 9400.  The 9400 is much more expensive, but has the larger harp size and the fancy, invaluable lighting.

The 6600 looks almost exactly like the machine I have now, except for a brilliant feed dog system.  It made me happy just to look at it and its reputation is stellar.

So…is the extra quilting room and the fantastic lighting worth the extra $$$$??  Do I go for the fancy top-of-the-line machine with all the bells and whistles or stay in my comfort zone?

Fortunately I don’t have to decide for a few more months.

We are waiting for the breeze to die down so we can do a little kayaking.  The skies are not as hazy with smoke today, so we hope that means the Washington and Canadian fires are under control.

Fire danger is extremely high.  I’m glad we had our beachfront campfires in July, because we certainly won’t be enjoying any in the near future.

Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

 

 

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smoke and jam

Posted on August 5, 2017 by is there any more pie?

Can you tell it’s fire season?  The fires are far away, I hear.  In Canada.  But the wind blows the smoke here, as you can see.

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This was taken around 4:00 Friday afternoon.  It looks strange, doesn’t it?

Yesterday I made 4 batches (23 jars!) of blueberry jam.

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There are still plenty of berries leftover for cakes, but if I make blueberry cakes I will only eat them.  And I don’t need to eat cake.

A dilemma.

Perhaps I will be freezing several blueberry cakes to foist on my friends.  I like to eat blueberries like M&M’s, too, while I’m reading.   Those little suckers are addicting.

Enough blueberry chat.  I’m off to Spokane to pick up Banjo Man (he’s flying in from Portland) and need to get on the road early enough to have an hour in a quilt store that is having a 20% off sale on fabric.

Could there be anything more enticing?

I have it all planned.  Leave by 8 AM, get to the store when it opens at 10, shop for an hour and then hop back in the car and drive 30 minutes to the airport.

This is going to be a great morning.

 

 

 

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blueberry day

Posted on August 4, 2017 by is there any more pie?

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Looking at all of these blueberries in my kitchen sink reminded me of the times I would watch my grandmother clean the wild blueberries we’d just picked.  She’d dump them all in the big cast iron sink and ready them for pies.  Leftovers would go into my favorite of all, blueberry pancakes.

I’d forgotten a seven year old’s excitement over seeing a gallon of berries in a sink until yesterday.

That was a long time ago.

Last month the Funny Grandson and I made blueberry jam together.  He was in charge of dumping the sugar into the pot and managed to stir the mixture on the stove for a few minutes before losing interest.  He wasn’t thrilled with the final product either, but everyone else here was.

So I’m going to make more.  Today.  Because I have very clean berries and very clean jars and…air-conditioning.

Yes, air conditioning.  We are having true summer weather now, with temps in the mid 90’s.  And the smoke from Canadian fires has filled the air and turned the blue skies gray and hazy.  The fires are far away from us, but the wind brings the smoke and these many dry days mean the fire danger is high.  Very high.

Last night some of the old band members came over to play some of our old songs and get out of the heat.  When it cooled down we ate dinner on the porch and talked until long after the smoke-covered sunset.

It was lovely.

So this morning I will make jam.  And this afternoon I intend to float in my inner tube and rest.  And tonight I am going to cut out many, many 5″ squares for baby quilts and watch episode 5 of “Loch Ness”, a murder mystery series set in Scotland.  Of course I have no idea who the serial killer is (I never do), but I love those Scottish accents and the scenery.

A perfect August day.

I hope you are enjoying your day, too.

 

 

 

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crunch time

Posted on August 1, 2017 by is there any more pie?

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Dancing Mandolin Player and I are practicing our 17, 18 and/or 20 songs for our gig at the Arts & Crafts Festival in town in two weeks.  I think we only need 15 songs, so we are trying to decide which ones are better left at home.

We have turned my little basement office into our music studio, complete with sound system, microphones, music stands and instruments.

It works.

Our longtime music teacher, Doug, is playing along with us, something for which we are deeply grateful.

We need all the help we can get. 

And yes, we are having a good time.  Who knew we could do this?  Not us!

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in friends, lake, music | 3 Comments

buried treasure

Posted on July 31, 2017 by is there any more pie?
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Son #2 spends an evening searching through a gazillion rocks.

He is very good at finding things.  If you’ve lost an earring or dropped a tiny screw or popped out a contact lens, you want this guy in the vicinity.  We don’t know how he does it.

And this year?  He did it again.

Gorgeous, huh?  His best find yet!

 

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oh, lonesome me

Posted on July 28, 2017 by is there any more pie?

This raven stayed for about half an hour, enjoying sipping from the water’s edge and watching the boats go by.

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I took the picture through the front door screen, which you can probably see.  We have a lot of ravens around here and the Funny Grandson loves to imitate their squacks and trick them to responding to him.  It can get rather loud, because the FG is pretty good at mimicking their cries.

This picture was taken after the FG had returned to Texas, because no self-respecting raven would dare relax on the beach with a six-year old in residence and apt to pounce at any time.

 

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Here I am, by myself, and not happy that everyone has gone home.

Banjo Man and I are alone now.  The guys and the FG have returned to their various homes.  The vacation was over too soon.

I have been moping around and wondering what to do with myself.

Dancing Mandolin Player and I have a gig in a couple of weeks, so there is lots of practicing–together and alone.  I am determined to go kayaking with Banjo Man.  We are having friends over for dinner.  I am going to make more blueberry jam.  Eventually the good peaches will arrive and I can start making pies.

But right now it is way too quiet around here.  And I have no one to cook for, not really.  And I miss the nightly Canasta Championships on the screened porch, the laughter on the beach, the relaxed conversations on the deck in the afternoon.

Banjo Man took me out to lunch Sunday, which was sweet of him.  We agreed, over our salads, that we were pathetic.

My world brightened last Wednesday when I discovered there was a real quilt store in town.  Since I arrived at the lake I’ve learned I have three baby quilts to make, so I’d better get busy.  The fabric at the store was beautiful and inspiring and only 25 minutes from the house, so after the gig is over I will get busy and sew a little in between jam-making, pie-baking and music-singing.

And dock-sitting.  There is always time for that.

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girls on the beach

Posted on July 25, 2017 by is there any more pie?

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One of us is snacking.  The other is wondering where Banjo Man put the bag of Doritos.

Yesterday I decided to be on vacation.  After a fun practice with Dancing Mandolin Player in the morning (did I tell you we have a real gig in August?) and a lunch of sliced peaches, I headed down to the lake.  I had a towel, phone (i.e. camera), water, water shoes, sunglasses, sunscreen and my Kindle.  I had even inflated my two favorite floaties and intended to bob around in the water when the mood struck.

Banjo Man joined me several hours later, bringing salsa and chips and news of the day.  He retrieved the long-handled rake and scooped out swaths of floating grass and weeds that sometimes float in to our swimming area.

I have said for some time now that the deer love to eat this stuff, but the men in my life have not believed me.  “Just leave it on the beach,” I would say.  “The deer will take care of it.”

And they would repress their sighs and not say anything.

Banjo Man was gathering up the snacks and was on his way back to his office when, less than fifteen minutes after Banjo Man raked the grass from the water, my girlfriend arrived.

IMG_3790Obviously she couldn’t resist such a treat.

Banjo Man went back to the house, but this gal and I hung out for a while.  She chomped away and I watched people learn to water ski and then took my floating chair out for some time on the water.

Maybe we’ll do it again today.

 

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Does this log make my butt look big?

 

 

 

 

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camping, sort of

Posted on July 24, 2017 by is there any more pie?

 

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View from the cabin porch.

 

All winter Banjo Man, his brother and our two sons talked about “going camping up at the cabin”.

To say this trip had reached “epic” status would be an understatement.  Spending the night in the cabin up on the mountain in the middle of the woods had become something so exciting and wonderful and momentous that it had to happen, no matter what.

On a trip to North Forty, a camping/outdoor supply store in town, Banjo Man went insane and bought four cots, four thick pads for the cots and four fancy sleeping bags.  He debated about purchasing a generator for his sleep apnea machine, but the $1000 price tag convinced him to forgo the machine for one night in the woods.

In the meantime the Funny Grandson announced to his father that he was absolutely not going camping up in the cabin because there were bears and mountain lions up there.  He said he would stay home with Grandma (who wouldn’t sleep up there if you paid me $5000).

They bought candles and lanterns.  Son #1 bought some kind of night vision scope.  They debated endlessly about food.  I bought them a jar of instant coffee, just in case they figured out how to boil water.

The big day arrived and excitement was high.  And then…they decided it would be easier to just eat supper here at the house.  So I pulled out all of the leftover pork roast, potatoes, salad and lemon cake and we ate on the porch.  It was quite civilized and they all agreed it was a good idea to eat before heading up the mountain.

Then they packed up the car.

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It was now 6:00.  PM.

Here’s the Funny Grandson pretending he is going along.  He wanted to send this picture to his mother as a joke (she didn’t fall for it, much to his disappointment).

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There wasn’t enough room in the car for him anyway.

My grandson had never seen the movie “Babe” (the pig, not the baseball legend), so we made ice cream and watched tv (hurray for Netflix and the internet!!!) until 11 pm.  Then we chatted a while in bed before we went to sleep.  It was lovely.  And very clean.  With no bugs.  Or mice.  Or wildlife.

The campers were home at 7 AM.   They’d played cards and eaten snacks for most of the evening, they’d conquered the mosquito problem and they’d slept great in their new bedding.  They were grinning from ear to ear as they made coffee and eggs and bacon and toast.

They took showers.  And naps.

And they’re going to do it again next year.

 

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Enjoying the view.

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45 years old this summer.

 

 

 

 

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