The unusually warm sun beat down on my helmet as we rounded the curves on the Chuckanut scenic highway. It was one of the first days of being able to take out the bike and I eagerly jumped at the chance to see the tulips. My camera gear was firmly strapped to my back as we traveled south. The bike, like my convertible is a little taste of freedom in a pandemic shut world. We randomly chose roads once in the county, looking ahead for the tell tale signs of color in the fields. Banners waved giving more clues as to which roads would lead us to the rainbows growing in the fields. This different kind of year would not be the same. I wasn’t taking a kid, mine or someone else’s to explore the fields together or end up at one of the main display gardens. Last year was closed and this year was limited capacity. Buy your ticket in advance, but we are spontaneous people and so when the day was warm and clear we found ourselves driving to find the growing rainbows. There along side a back road was a small banner with the words, enter here, pay here. We slowed and turned into the impromptu dirt and grass parking area. We wove our way through the parked cars and roped off areas to find a spot for our bike. John paid the five dollar parking fee allowing us to visit the other cutting fields from the same grower while I unstrapped my camera bag and stowed my gear. Donning our masks we made our way to the rows further away from people so we could comfortably remove the masks and enjoy the blooms. We wandered, talked, looked and I took photo after photo, enjoying the backlit blossoms. After a couple of fields and a card full of photos we mounted our bike and made the quick trip north; satisfied with an afternoon of an almost normal Pacific Northwest Spring day.
Often times I will crave a dessert but I never turn to cake. But give me a tartelette with fresh fruit and a creamy filling and I will gorge myself with them. Sometime I wonder if I should have gone to a culinary or baking school but it actually grew out of my love for photography. Food should look delicious. We eat with our senses. Taste may be the last of the senses to enjoy the food. First we either smell or see it. I suppose we don’t hear it unless it’s a steak sizzling or rice Krispees going snap crackle pop or pop corn bursting. But we taste food ass much with our eyes and our sense of smell as with our taste buds. Actually if we can’t smell, food has no taste. Seriously try it. Food tastes bland when our nose is stuffed up. Our sense of touch also dictates our tastes as well. There have been many times that the food has been disappointing because of the texture. But these little blackberry tartelettes are perfect, A delicate shortbread crust and a creamy whipped frozen based topped with wild blackberries has the perfect texture and taste. However I do want to perfect my shortbread crust. I do have to say that the book, How to bake like a French pastry chef is perfect for learning the basics to build with. And so I will continue to work out the crème légère and the pate sable to make the perfect little tartelette
I find that there is something calming about creating little nests of pasta. Working the flour and eggs together until it forms a unified pliable mass. It’s quick and almost feels like play. After it has rested for an hour, it’s time to cut and roll. Often times I lose myself in the task. Roll, fold, roll, roll, roll. Dust with flour, move the hand crank to the cut that I want. Roll again and dust with a bit more flour. Gently lift and twirl into these little swirls. After all has been rolled and cut, pop the whole tray into the freezer for about an hour. Then into a labeled plastic gallon bag. And it’s done. Or after it’s been chilling for a bit, boil salted water and place a couple of nests into pan. Four minutes or so after it comes back to a boil, it’s done and oh so wonderful.
A beautiful spring Saturday morning in the Pacific Northwest has many people clamoring to get outside and I was no different. This year especially with the pandemic and feeling so shut in. I wasn’t really housebound but it felt like it. We had been rolling out of bed earlier even on weekends and this weekend paid dividends for doing so. It felt as if the trail head was already busy as we arrived at 7:45 am but we managed to find a parking spot as someone else was pulling out. As usual I shrugged on my camera backpack, attached to camera to the front and adjusted my hiking poles. We took a look at the map, though we had hiked this spot before but out of habit checked it again. I lagged behind finding beauty in the trillium flowers that were on display at the edge of the trail and the amazing grove of Birchwoods that almost lined up. Then there was the coin that fit snuggly into a mossy hole of a downed tree and the face drawn with marker on the bark surrounded with long strands of moss. Each time the trail rounded a corner or twisted back I needed to stop. The ferns glowed in the early morning light as I listened to the woodpeckers hunt for bugs, flicking bark off the trees as they peck away. It felt magical and spring was opening it’s door to the lovely area that we call home. As we came to the overlook, we could see all of Lake Whatcom, parts of Bellingham, the Bay and many of the San Juan Islands. I quietly set down my pack and brought out our snacks. Just to be able to sit and enjoy the view was something. It was overwhelming to think that I am blessed to be able to live in such a place. Not wanting to move on but also wanting to explore the rest of the trail, we pack up our snacks to discover the rest that we’ve never hiked. Again each turn was another discovery in the quiet of the woods. The sun would stream through the trees highlighting newly budded branches or a bit of snow that was left in the shadows that was quickly melting into pools of water. A mountain biker came past, and I could feel my legs burning as he churned up the path. All of a sudden the trail dumped us onto a back mountain utility road and the end of the journey up. What was around the bend of the road? According to our map our trail ended here but maybe there would be more in the future.
We needed a hike to get us ready for our trip to Arizona. Oyster Dome is lovely any time of year. It was an early April morning when we pulled up to the trail head. Already there were a good number of cars. I lifted my backpack onto my back and attached my camera. I need to test the pack and camera system out before our trip. I had been looking for a pack that had hip straps to help distribute the weight while being a camera bag. I also wanted one that was proportional to myself. Most hiking camera bags are sized for men. The backpacks that are sized for women are more of a commuter or city bag. Cute, stylish but not functional on snowshoes or on a 10 mile hike. I finally found one that would work. Its a Mindshift 18L pack. It had almost everything I needed. The next thing I needed was a way to carry my camera so that it wasn't in the bag. I was finding that I either had to take the pack off to get to my camera or I had the camera strap around my neck. The first option wasn't going to work. I often find myself either not taking the time to get my camera or missing the shot I wanted. The second option had the camera dangling around, hitting my thigh or hip and the strap pulling on my neck. It was also a bit to take off the camera, take off the pack, put the pack back on then the camera. So that wasn't going to work either. I already had a camera strap, wrist strap and clip from Peak Design. However the clip wasn't working with the hip belt or the shoulder strap. I still needed something else. Well Peak Design has this great product that was exactly what I needed. It is a Pro Pad. It will slip onto a belt or strap and is magnetic. Once the camera clip fastener is attached, all you have to do is clip your camera in. It's easy to remove and put back. This little hike up and down gave me the confidence I needed for our upcoming trip. It was something I was going to be able to manage. And the pack, well with the divisors inside for camera gear and my camera on the outside, it left room for snacks.



























































