Dogwood, the Celebration

We leave town on Tuesday, and the dogwood has honored me by opening today, so I get to appreciate it in its fresh glory, perhaps for the last time first hand. I'm inclined to love dogwoods simply because of their name, but there's something uncanny about their beauty and their sense of humor when you take a closer look. Anyway, I love this tree, and I have a series of closer looks for you to enjoy here. 

The Mysterious Naked Grapefruit

I have taken to not only peeling my grapefruits, but also making a thin slice along the top of each section and peeling away the thin membrane bits and also the fuzzy white bits--and all the nutrients, I hear my mother saying. Nutrients cannot always be the reason for eating something, however, and I have yet to tire of this process, even though it takes me at least 20 minutes to prepare the entire fruit. You can tell from that last sentence that I do not have young children.

I place the glistening grapefruit slices in an attractive bowl (I have a red glass Goodwill find that sets them off well), admire them for a few moments, and then gorge on their tangy, thirst-quenching goodness, mouthful after mouthful after mouthful. It is the consummate grapefruit consumption experience bar none, even Salty Dogs, and they're pretty good.

I don't have any pictures to show you of this part, but last night as I was admiring the beauty of the sections, I held one up to the kitchen light and was completely enthralled by the subtle pink-gold tint of the fruit, and the depth of field visible in the translucence of the juice-filled vesicles.

I'm not sure that any of the photos I took (and I took MANY) reproduce exactly what I had seen in the kitchen, but with the help of Ian and my headlamp, I think I got some interesting shots regardless. Below are some of them. Enjoy!

Grapefruit, more or less normal color. 

Super close-up of the vesicles, which have been described as kind of fluid-filled hairs. 

More vesicles writ large. 

My headlamp has a red light option.

 

I spent quite a bit of time playing with the camera settings after that, and have included three shots from settings play. In this one, my bioluminescent grapefruit heats up. 

WHITE HOT GLOW!

AND . . . burned out. Time to eat!

The Serendipitous Hat

The hat that had measured out so felicitously evenly? The hat I was planning so that I would have a project to do during 40+ hours of air transit, starting in a week?

It came out beautifully, start to finish (Ian bet I wouldn't be able to leave it alone until our trip. Embarrassing how much he understands). The first two photos were taken by my long-suffering husband, and the next two shots I did of myself, one accidentally.

Pinwheel vent to let out steam

Overall design

"Why are you not snapping when I push the buttonAW dang."

THIS is the picture I was going for. 

More Close-ups From my Garden

We take off for Parts Tropical and Islandy in about 10 days, and so I've been cramming in Seattle Spring close-ups. We spent some time working in the yard today, which was pretty chilly and a little breezy. It became breezier when I pulled out my camera and macro lens and very much wanted things to be still, but I captured some pretty awesome images anyway, which you can see in online album here. Who knew plants had all this detail?

Orcas Equinox Vacay

Spring is Springing!

 Oregon grape in one of our hedgerows

Ian and I flew up to Orcas Friday on Kenmore Air, in one of their Dehavilland Beaver seaplanes, with discount tickets purchased last September. We left from South Lake Union (10-minute taxi from our house) and arrived one hour later at West Sound Marina (10 minute walk to our land). 

We really had a vacation on Orcas this last weekend. We couldn't bring our usual ton of tools, giant cooler, or nonagenarian dog, so it was a pretty easy-going time. Burke the Builder loaned us an '89 Toyota Land Cruiser with 265,000 miles on it (4 of his 5 children learned to drive in this vehicle), which was the perfect island car. He left it parked at the West Sound Marina with the keys dangling on the wiper switch. 1989 was the last year for the old-style, truly utilitarian Land Cruiser, which turned into a luxury SUV in 1990. This old blue automatic model was still happy to be out and about, starting forward or backward, whichever we asked, up hill or down, the moment we let off on the brake. We hadn't planned on having wheels, which would've made our visit very different. As it was, we took a 6-mile hike on Turtleback Mountain; ate restaurant food instead of emergency ramen stocked in the Dacha; and even made it out to the Doe Bay Resort Cafe for the first time ever, which is about as far as you can get on Orcas from our place, for breakfast on Sunday. 

In all, we had an utterly delightful time, and great weather for our flights. The one problem with a one-hour commute instead of a 4-hour one is that the buffer between country idyll and urban jungle is way too small. Arriving back in Seattle was a shock to the system, and not a totally pleasant one. 

I've posted many more pictures from our weekend away here.

Happy Spring!

Flowering plum

Dacha Breakfast

Roses' Fig Fennel Bread, honey chevre, poor man's mocha (coffee with a hot chocolate packet). Yum!

one-fingered on my phone

Close-ups From My Garden

I would never have purchased my Canon Rebel camera--I loved the idea of taking pictures, but I wouldn't have allowed myself the luxury of such a purchase, considering that I habitually let Ian be the main photographer. If I wasn't taking a lot of photos, did I need to spend a big wad of money on a tool to take photos? I couldn't justify it. Fortunately for me, Ian recognized that a real camera wouldn't, in fact, be wasted cash, and he was right. I loved the idea of taking pictures, and I am loving the manifestation of it, too.

In honor of the first day of spring, here are some pictures of what's up on the outside at Taylor Wallingford.

This is our ceanothus, California lilac, or simply "The Blue Bush," as we call it, preparing to burst into a billion blue blooms. It's quite the spectacular spectacle. Spackle likes to dig cool, damp, dirty dog beds under it. 

(Hitherto unknown fact about the Blue Bush: it inspires alliteration)

Blooms on our Japanese Maple. These are smaller than my pinky fingernail. 

 

Here is a wider view of our maple leafing out. 

Leaves on the Japanese Snowbell. There are three of these trees to the west of us down 39th, across Wallingford, and they are huge and happy and covered in blooms later in the year. Our own snowbell, on the other hand, has not grown smaller for the past few years (as it was wont to do early in our stewardship of it); and is still alive; and is making positive, hopeful steps toward a continued existence. 

This is a bud on the dogwood that my childhood friend S gave me as a wedding shower gift, 13 years ago. It's a distractingly beautiful coral-flowered tree. And I am fascinated by the elegant, matte-gray reserve in which it attires itself while it prepares for its big debut. 

I do love me a flowering quince.