That cold snap wreaked havoc in our gardens, but ultimately it may have been great news. "What?" you holler, as you peruse the frayed remains of your favorite plants.For the past three or four years we have not had any truly severe winter weather. This has allowed the chewing-insect population to thrive, and the drifting spores of mildew to multiply. A good hard freeze reduces the population count of these garden visitors. We've had the freeze now, but the aesthetics leave much to be desired.
Getting dumped hurts, even if you know it's coming. It's even more painful when the dumper fibs to the dumpee and says, "It's not you, it's me." You know very well it's you, but they're too wussy to state their true feelings and be honest. Four years ago we were dumped by someone we'd come to trust. Oh sure, we knew it wasn't per-sonal. It just felt like it was personal. If only you'd had the guts to be honest with us and say, "It's not you, it's me. I've messed up production lines for so many years, frittered away the goodwill of my employees, reduced morale to an all-time low, and now, now you must leave because I need to streamline the company and make bigger profits for my executives and stockholders." We would have understood. We wouldn't have liked it, but we would have understood. Fickle, fickle Boeing. You treated us so well for so long. We loved you. We relied upon you. You were our one, our only. Then you dumped us and about 30,000 others.
I'm a kid, sitting in a pew in a Roman Catholic church. White marble statues of saints, stained-glass windows, bittersweet incense swallowing the room. A stage set of a holy place in every way. When an altar boy swings the incense too close to our pew, my father warns him to "knock it off" in the same humorless voice he uses when I annoy him. On Sunday morning, after a night of poker-playing and third Scotch debate, my father is a night's sleep away from civil, not about to let us enjoy the fairy tale he says religion makes of life.My mother tries to convince me the ashes won't hurt. "They're nothing like the ashes from a cigarette," she says. She delights in the idea of repentance, its possibility, tells me I won't feel a thing but awe. Unlike my father's agnosticism, her devoutness seeps into everything she is, and like many with no formal schooling, she believes anyone of hierarchy, especially priests, is infallible, obliging without question. She accepts the ash with a bow of her head.
Americans, including those of us living in Seattle, have always been very clear about what we believe in: law and order, freedom of expression and the freedom to make lots of money - and yet we also like to believe we are an upright, moral people, caring about our neighbors and our neigh-borhoods.As I always advised my daughters when they were coming up: "Pay minimal attention to what people say; pay close attention to what they do."This thought has risen to my aging, battered forebrain once again as I peruse statistics from a comprehensive new health report about King County citizens.
She had white hair and clear blue eyes. She was the kind of woman you could meet and immediately feel close to. I know this because when I interviewed her two years ago for a chiropractic story in Queen Anne News, we sat down as strangers and an hour later, when I packed up my computer and camera, I realized that I had made a new friend. Beth Gibson, Queen Anne resident, businesswoman, active volunteer, mother, wife and simply a damn good person, died on St. Valentine's Day.I didn't find out until nearly a week later and missed the opportunity to attend the memorial service held at St. Anne's Cathedral, where more than 500 mourners gathered.In a way it feels wrong that I would write a memory piece about Beth. In truth, I can't say that I knew her really well. She wasn't a close friend, and I probably only ran into her about once a month atop the Hill. But, the thing is, I feel her loss. Life is busy. Everyone is running here, there and everywhere, and we all have regular characters in these crazy and quite diverse existences that we call life. When I heard about Beth's death, it made me think about those people that you don't know too well and see only occasionally. What role do you play in their lives, if any? That's how Beth and I were, and when I think back to our interactions, I feel warm.
As the Northwest rain continues to beat on our heads - and beat up our spirits, it's time to seek comfort with some bona fide comfort food. Ribs, which many think of as a summertime treat, are delicious when slow cooked in a simmering sauce. Braised ribs are an entirely different creature from the grilled variety: the meat is so tender that it virtually melts off the bone into your mouth, and the gravy must be served with a side of mashed potatoes, pasta or polenta so that not a drop is wasted. My version has been culled from a variety of recipes, with a few personal touches, and the result is what Sunday dinners were made for. As the ribs stew, your house will smell like heaven and your spirit will be revived.
Seattle Opera's production of Mozart's "Così fan tutte" wears its updating well.Not every opera can be transplanted into the modern age. Many are so tied to their periods that to move them to another makes for some jarringly awkward moments when the libretto inevitably clashes with the reality of the new era. The detailed class issues of Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro," for example, are part of the time and place in which that opera is set and would become nonsensical if the staging were shifted to present day.Every change in famed British director Jonathan Miller's transport of Seattle Opera's production of "Così fan tutte" to modern times is logical. The references, both local and contemporary, make Miller's rollicking rendition even more uproariously funny. Cellphones are ubiquitous, with characters text messaging and sending each other photos. Television cameras arrive on the scene, turning everyone into an instant star. When Guglielmo and Ferrando test the fidelity of their fiancées, they are hidden beneath the hip sunglasses, longhaired wigs, tattoos and outrageous clothes of rock stars instead of the Albanians of Lorenzo Da Ponte's original libretto.
Most students who initially encounter Stephen Vincent Benét's "The Devil and Daniel Webster," first published in book form in Benét's 1937 short-story collection "Thirteen O'Clock," do so in high school.Seattle Children's Theatre's world première of "The Devil and Daniel Webster," however, is intended for a broader youth audience: age 11 and up (though my almost-9-year-old thoroughly enjoyed it, too). That would explain why SCT's adaptation, scripted by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Robert Schenkkan ("The Kentucky Cycle"), has such an attractive shape for imaginative kids.
For cooking dessert with the seasons, March is one of those funny months - too late to be considered winter and, yet, a little premature for spring - especially in Seattle when the weather can be so fooling. You cannot celebrate the arrival of a new fresh fruit, and all the ones you have been using since the fall seem so boring and overdone.So what do you do? In times like this I turn to chocolate to fill the void. And it does so, magnificently! Chocolate is soul food. Year-round, any day, any time. That first biteI have a chocolate experience that is as clear today as it was when I experienced it 20 years ago in Paris, when I was a culinary student at the La Varenne cooking school. It was there I experienced my first chocolate baguette sandwich.
In an effort to prevent a possible gypsy moth infestation, a small parcel of Miller Park is slated for pesticide helicopter spraying this spring. The gypsy moth, which is capable of destroying forests of trees and has been a scourge on the East Coast for more than 100 years, has been seen in limited numbers in Washington state.The state has conducted 15 aerial spraying operations, nine of which took place in or near Seattle. On Feb. 9, the state Department of Agriculture (WSDA) had an open house at Meany Middle School. According to WSDA spokesman John Lundberg, roughly 20 people attended.
On March 11, Epiphany Church will host its sixth-annual spaghetti-dinner fund-raiser to benefit the YWCA East Cherry transitional housing program. Hosted by Madison Valley's Bill and Karen Forbes, the dinner is one of the many ways Madrona-based Epiphany Church contributes to the program, which focuses on helping families toward independence."Our East Cherry apartments are for clients who have already been through our emergency-housing program, and transitional housing is the next step for them," said Sarah Ortner, community resource coordinator for the East Cherry YWCA.
Living in Seattle, people often take for granted the simple necessities of life. Food, water and shelter are expected rather than sought after. For people living in less-fortunate areas of the world, food, water and shelter are often daily searches that wind up in futility.For the people in Rabuor Village, Kenya, the chores of finding those necessities are compounded with an AIDS epidemic, illiteracy and lack of economic development. Loyce Mbewa, a native of Rabuor Village and current Seattle resident, had a vision that help for her home village could be supplied through a community effort. With the help of Madison Park's Susan Anstine, the executive director of the Rabuor Village Project, Mbewa has begun to turn her vision into a reality.
The hours slipped by unnoticed as I wandered through the flower show, reviving my spirits dampened by rain and broken umbrellas and wet feet. The exhibits ranged from the cacti to the old cabin and its pickup truck emerging out of the woods, to the Asian garden and the various patios that made me long to have a garden once again. I'd turn right as an exhibit caught my eye, but I'd no sooner headed that way then another exhibit to the left or down the aisle would catch my eye. Gradually, I realized that I was seeing less and less as the crowd grew thicker and thicker, and all of them taller than I was. It was then I wished I'd come at dawn for two days rather than try to absorb everything in one afternoon trip.I reluctantly decided to depart but made the mistake of going out by way of the vendors. I naturally had to see the latest in pots and tools and creatures to add to my garden.
The promenade at Madison Park has seen two recent relocations this year. Ropa Bella, a high-end women's clothing shop, moved in where Madison Park Books once stood, and The Original Children's Shop relocated to a spot just one block south.Originally located on Lake Union, Ropa Bella spent 14 years at the Arboretum Court and moved to its current location at 4105 E. Madison St. last September. Ropa BellaRopa Bella's owner, Lisa Loban, explained that she had always wanted to be situated in a place with more foot traffic, more available parking and more stores to draw shoppers. She said the process of changing the old bookstore into a women's clothing boutique took one month. The roomy, new space allowed Loban to expand the shop's selection, which now includes a gift and card section and a shoe department.
Typically, the scope and size of your home-improvement project will determine when a professional needs to be involved. Most of us could not build an addition to a home without the service of a contractor or home remodeler. On the other hand, there are some projects, like interior painting, that can turn into a family event. If uncertain about the scope of an interior-design and décor project, consulting with an interior designer can provide insight into the professional services and products particularly suited to your needs.