Stone walls, tiled floors, artwork on the walls. The furniture chosen with care over the centuries to fill the house built in the 1500s. A family moved from Rhodes to Malta with the Knights of St John. The pieces were currated, not chosen haphazardly and maintained.  As time went on, more artwork was obtained. Dishes chosen as well.  Documents kept and organized.  Books stocked the two libraries from ancient texts to modern novels.  Each item told a story of the owners.  This house has been in the family since it was built and we had the opportunity to glance into their world.  The dining table set with care and used daily. Family photos adorn end tables in the salon that depict special moments in their lives.  A small desk against a window, the balcony with tea service.  The family pet a parrot greeting visitors in the garden.  A peak into the cellars which were actually a bomb shelter built for WWII. The shelter allowed more than just family members to seek refuge there. I wanted to ask so many questions. Instead, I tucked little ideas away that I found interesting or commonalities between their things and my tastes.  I loved how the rooms had their own character and that it fused the antique with the modern. I became inspired by their choices and their commitment to their past while in the present.  I thought about how much family and roots are protected there and we tend to blow away like dandelion seeds not really rooting close to home but spreading out instead.












 

Quietly, the trees wake up with small buds starting to swell.  Almost unnoticeable unless you are looking for it.  A hint of green along the bark and then one morning it appears like someone glued popped popcorn kernels along the branches of the cherry trees.  The trees bloom in succession. Each one in bloom long enough for the next tree to open and start cross pollinating.  The blueberries hang out their bell-shaped pale green blooms in an understated way and the pear tree blooms make their quick appearance.  Small bursts of color ranging from white to pale pink, to coral to a raspberry red make their way across the yard. A new day, a new week, a new tree has put forth its promise of fruit later in the year.  The apple tree dances with color as each grafted in branch blooms just a fraction of a day later than the first as if it is creating a wave.  The presence of the fruit trees gives a permanence to the place because of the time it takes for them to mature and give enough fruit. The stacks of wood for future projects arranged in the background and the ladder waiting for the cherries to ripen make me feel rooted in this spot that is full of promise of gifts to come.



 

For almost 22 years, I have driven past this bridge.  I glance at it, not really thinking about it.  Generally I gauge the water level by the sandbar and log jam around the piling of the bridge.  However, lately our small town has embraced this bridge as a sort of icon of the town.  They created a new park with playground equipment for kids and one of the items is a bridge with the name Metallica Bridge on it.  A new brewery opened up and they had large wooden bridge wall art designed after this bridge. Kids have long painted graffiti on the metal part above the pilon but within a week or so someone comes along to cover it up and repaint Metallica on it.  Doing a little research I have learned that the railroad came through in 1893 and soon after a bridge for vehicle traffic replaced the ferry system.  Sometime later this bridge was built as a pass through bridge, meaning that it can turn on gears to allow boat traffic to move  up river.  It hasn't turned since the 1980s when work was done on it.  In the late 80's around 1986 or 1987 the Metallica graffiti first appeared on the bridge after some local youth attended a concert.  Since then the graffiti has been painted over with other messages but always returns and has become a symbol of our town.

When the kids were little we bought a book called Bear and Bunny Grow Tomatoes.  It is a lovely little picture book about one animal who takes their time to get their garden ready and tenderly grow their plants and the other who dreams big and lives for fun but doesn't put in the work.  Once reaps a harvest.  We lovingly refer to John as one of the animals.  

I just finished reading the book "A Wood of One's Own" by Ruth Pavy.  I could relate to her dream of owning a small patch of woods to putter and plant.  There is a suggestion of permanence and history when planting and caring for trees.  It's a commitment of settling down roots and staying a while.  The flower beds can take a month or a year to produce the desired outcome but trees take patience, dedication, and slowness of time to achieve the desired effect and then maintenance of more than just pulling weeds. There are days that I have wished for more than the small plot of land of our backyard.  Two maybe four acres would be nice I dream. However as I look at what we've done since the beginning, I wonder if I really could leave this less 1/4 acre plot.  When we moved here 22 years ago, our back yard was an expanse of grass.  A tree in the middle that I called my first friend tree because it bloomed and provided a ray of sunshine in the gloomy friendless days of our Pacific Northwest Spring.  We had attempted to move it but it never really did take to the new spot and since then we've planted other trees, learning along the way about pruning and caring for them.  The three small cherry trees have dwarfed everything in the yard and can support the weight of cherry pickers willing the climb higher than our second story.  We added a plum tree that produces so many plums that I've made Asian plum sauce, plum and lemon jam and roasted plum sorbet.  The plum sorbet has been my favorite.  Our current dog will pick a plum and carry it around with no intention of eating them unless it's the pit. The espalier pear tree in the back  usually makes just enough pears for a tarte or two but little more than that.  We should have planted it in a different spot.  Yet I love espalier trees.  They look so classy and beautiful allowing one to approach just one side of the tree.  The apple tree leans so much that the branches are almost parallel to the ground instead of growing perpendicular yet it feels almost nostalgic that way as if the tree has been around for 50 years instead of 10.  Our last addition to our "orchard" is our quince, which I had to beg and beg for it.  Three years later and we had our first round of quince.  I made maybe three jars of jelly and it was liquid gold.  I savored each and every jar.  The next year, there were a few more and I scoured the area for another quince grower to add more quince to my crop.  I may need to this year as well.  Someday though, we may have enough quince of our own.  My test of patience and waiting.  None of our trees are in what I would call a row but spread out around the perimeter of the yard allowing the center to be open for lawn games.  I have added boxwood wherever I can because they stay green all year and can be shaped anyway I would like.  John is rather accommodating with that except for pruning them into spiral shapes. There he puts his foot down. We've put up patio lights that go from house to our paper bark maple that is high enough now to create the perfect shade for our patio for dinners.  Again, it took 10 years or more of waiting for that to come to be.  The clematis along with the wisteria cover a bit of the fence with green and provide a place for birds to rest before nibbling on the blueberries.  There was some planning but mostly I'd like to plant this, where do I put it?  I had an overall garden plan drawn up and though I keep it around, we really haven't followed it at all.  The evergreen trees of our neighbors have grown so tall that the "garden" spot is now in total shade for most of the day, receiving sun during the mid day hours.  However a garden can be moved and relocated with some planning or for us, more like a whim.  Our trees, our neighbor's trees rest in place and create that permanence and stability that I now know I really do need. 

Each year I eagerly anticipate the arrivals of the bunnies.  I know they are here over the winter but it's the spring and summer months that they make their appearances. Sometimes I wonder what my neighbors think about me crawling across the front lawn commando style with camera in hand but mostly I don't really care.  They like the grass best when its new or when it's longer so I don't mind if the lawn is a little unkempt or a bit shaggy.  I don't mind if they eat the pears that have dropped, in fact if there are teeth marks I leave it for them.  I've even put out a water dish from time to time for them and once got John to purchase a salt lick as well.  This summer there was only one little baby that graced our yard and it was pretty skittish.  The older rabbit would stretch out, relaxing all the while keeping an eye on me.  I could get fairly close while taking photos before it needed a bit more space.  It's expressions and antics would just make me smile and it had me peering out both the front and back windows searching daily sometimes hourly just to see if it had come to visit.  















 

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