News Trend Vermilion Legacy|Actual

"This land, this water, this air, this planet - this is our legacy to our young." -Paul Tsongas

My husband's mother's family ties go back to a sweet little town in Ohio called Vermilion.

Once upon a time, her relatives ran a general store out of this charming storefront. Even then, back in the day, it was painted this same lemon yellow and adorned with a similar striped awning.

Back home, we own a little watercolor painting of this same store, painted with historical accuracy, in the same sunny colors. My mother-in-law treasured that gem for many years and I'm honored that we can carry it forward for her.

So it was lovely that on our quick trip to Cleveland, along with my husband's sister , we stopped by the old place and paid her a proper visit. She's living life as a cafe now, and looking quite well cared for. Makes me so happy to know that she has been passed on through a series of careful stewards. I'm glad to see she is loved.

Vermilion sits on the shore of Lake Erie, less than an hour west of Cleveland. With a string of beaches and deep marinas, the town enjoys an envious reputation as a resort center and the historical nickname, "Village of Lake Captains." Sure enough, just a stroll around the block landed us on the beach.

Even though Erie is the fourth-smallest of the five Great Lakes by surface area, she still offers a commanding view of endless sea and sky. Though they are fresh water lakes, the Great Lakes are shockingly huge. Standing at the shore of any of one the five Greats is a majestic experience and I never tire of marveling at the infinite blue.

So I stood on the grassy bluff above the beach and mused about other ancestors who sailed ore boats from Superior down here to Cleveland, and called Vermilion home. They may not be my blood relatives but I'm happy to know that the DNA of this seafaring adventurers lives on in my daughters' cells.

Satisfied were we all with exploring our history on the streets of Vermilion, and as afternoon passed into evening, we turned and headed our car back to Columbus. We may not ply the waters of the deep in this generation, but we are adventurers in our own rights, and I am proud to continue the legacy of our family's bold spirit. .

* * * * *

Road Trip 2019: read all about it.

Leaving

Resting

Glacier National Park

Dakota Sunshine

Mackinac Bridge

My Newfound Brother

Fox Trilogy

Cleveland Rocks

Vermilion Legacy

At The Conservatory

Riding To Rifle

Arches National Park: Balanced Rock

Arches National Park: Double Arch

Arches National Park: Devil's Garden Trail

Arches National Park: Park Avenue

Dead Horse Point

Waiting For Breakfast

Canyonlands National Park

Cheeseburgers

Car Keys

News Trend Gordon's Pumpkin Soup|Actual

I have mixed feelings about pumpkins. Sure, I love to see a fellowship of orange gourds gathered around my doorstep in the fall, and come the end of October, nothing makes me happier than to slice one up, scoop out the guts, carve a dashing grin, and light up a jack-o'lantern's spooky face for my neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

I love to look at pumpkins. But sadly, I have never enjoyed eating them.

Cookies

Breads

Lattes

Muffins

Even pumpkin pie

I totally understand pumpkin's appeal and the cozy, spicy vibes that pumpkin-flavored goodies invoke.

I just don't like how pumpkin treats taste. Too rich, too heavy, too much for me.

Still, I feel a little sad that I'm missing out on the pumpkin bandwagon. So for many years, I've tried to keep an open mind, and an eye out for some kind of pumpkin delicacy that works for me.

It was a few weeks back when my daughters and I were wandering around an autumn market that my third-born pointed out this display to me. "We should try that recipe for pumpkin soup," she suggested, and I was on board in a hot minute.

We chose one of these Winter Luxury pumpkins, took a shot of the chalkboard, and set our sights on what I hoped would be the perfect dinner for a fall winter night.

Much to my surprise, I loved this soup. It does not beat me over the head with its pumpkin-ness. The flavor is soft and gentle, due I suppose to this particular species of pumpkin. The Winter Luxury has turned me into a pumpkin soup lover and that, my friends, is no small feat.

Here, in an every so slightly revised form, is Gordon Skagit Farm's surefire recipe for a delicate and delightful pumpkin soup that even I adore:

Ingredients:

4 cups oven roasted Winter Luxury pumpkin

olive oil for drizzling

salt and pepper

1 sweet onion

1 T butter

1/2 t sugar

dua cups beer

2 cups vegetable stock

1 1/2 cup water

2 cups heavy cream

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

Directions:

1. Chop the pumpkin into 4-6 similar-sized chunks, remove pulp and seeds. Place in a cast iron skillet, season with olive oil, salt and pepper. Pop into a 420 degree panggang for a half hour until the pumpkin is soft and golden.

Yeah. Just like that.

Dua. While the pumpkin is cooking, start the onion, butter, and sugar in a pot. Keep the heat low and stir often in order to caramelize the onions, which takes at least 20 minutes. The trick is not to brown the onions but to cook them so slowly so that they soften rather than crisp.

Tiga. When the onions are soft and just starting to brown, add the beer, vegetable stock and water. I would like to tell you that I used a rich, hearty German beer such as the chalkboard recipe recommends. But the truth is that I did not. I used two Coronas because that's what I found in my fridge, and I have zero complaints.

Scrape the cooked pumpkin from the rinds and toss the chunks into the pot. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat to medium low and simmer for 30 minutes.

4. Use an immersion blender to smooth the soup. Revel in its gorgeous velvety texture. Add the cream and cheddar cheese and just heat through.

Lima. Serve with a dollop of sour cream and plenty more black pepper.

* * * * *

I liked this soup so much that I ate it for three meals in a row. Yep, dinner, breakfast, and lunch. And I really can't imagine a higher compliment for this tasty recipe and my new magnificent friend, the Winter Luxury pumpkin.

* * * * *

Read more about my visit to Gordon Skagit Farm here

News Trend Seeing Stars|Actual

"I will love the light for it shows me the way,

yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars."

- Og Mandino

Rain beat down on the windshield as I pulled my rental into the return lot and slid the gearshift into park. Sitting in the early morning gloom, I couldn't bring myself to turn off the ignition.

In two hours, I would be flying home to faraway Seattle and leaving my mother behind in Michigan to face her dementia alone. Based on the week I had just spent with her - especially our last sleepless, chaotic night - that was unthinkable.

In dark desperation, I remembered the wad of papers in my bag. Just the day before, we'd met my mom's new geriatric physician. He'd handed me this stack of flyers for in-home dementia care, and suggested that my mom might be ready for more support.

Yes. Absolutely.

And while I had no illusions about the lengthy delays and long lead times that would likely be required to get someone into my mom's home at night, I decided that before I got out of that car, I had to at least try.

The wipers slapped away the steady rain as I unfolded the stack of brochures and numbly dialed the number on the top page.

No answer.

Ugh. I slumped back against the seat, despondent, and wondered how I might summon up the hope to try the next number.

Then my phone rang.

"Hi, this is Joanna from Dementia Specialists. I think I just missed your call."

She listened as I stumbled through my story. And when I paused, Joanna kicked into gear.

"I can move a few things around and make time to interview your mom this morning. I'll get one of our girls in place by tonight. Don't worry. We won't leave your mom alone."

As I write this, two full years later, tears still flood my eyes as I remember the indescribable relief those words brought to me.

* * * * *

True to her word, Joanna and her team began looking after my mom that very day.

Compassionate.

Competent.

Committed.

Joanna's caregivers brought beautiful gifts into my mom's life.

They talked to her with genuine interest and treated her like an ordinary person.

They dealt matter-of-factly with the details of her disease.

They gently protected her privacy and her dignity.

My mom was not an easy client. She could not see how the disease was affecting her, she resented not only their supervision but even their companionship, and she treated these loving people as intruders.

But the caregivers understood the difference between my mom and the way the disease was affecting her behavior. They were patient, gracious, insightful, kind.

In time, my mom's walls came down and much to my surprise, relationships grew.

* * * * *

At the same time that miracle was taking place, much to my surprise, another layer of care was unfolding. Over the phone, at all times of night and day, Joanna poured countless hours into answering my questions, addressing my concerns, and educating me about my mom's disease.

She understood what I was going through emotionally, and gave me loving support.

She offered me insights and information about the disease, and helped me learn how best to interact with my mom.

She made me feel less alone.

Compassionate.

Competent.

Committed.

I am so grateful to Joanna, her caregivers, and all the staff at Dementia Specialists Homecare, for looking after not only my mom but also me.

Thanks to their help, the stars of hope and happiness now shine into our dark walk with dementia.

* * * * *

If you suspect a loved one may have dementia:

1. Get a diagnosis. See a dementia diagnostic specialist or a neurologist.

2. Find a dementia home care specialist and hire them right away to help you navigate this journey.

News Trend Solid Ground|Actual

In the past few days, temperatures have plummeted by 15 degrees or so.

Misty clouds have replaced the searing sun.

And while I have some mixed feelings about the change in season, let me say that Ranger is pumped.

Crisp September weather has put some much-needed pep in my pup's step, and after dragging through the long hot summer, this boy is back to his mischievous and playful ways.

For months now, I've been able to let him go unleashed into the front yard, because all he wants to do is flop down in the shade and snooze. But this week, he's begun to slip off again, prancing beyond the borders of our yard, tail wagging happily as he patrols the neighbors' shrubbery and wanders down the street.

And when waiting for me to tie my shoes and get going on our daily walk, instead of lying quietly on the front hall rug, he's been exploring this work-in-progress front yard dirt heap and biding his time in the mud.

Yes, he's a lot more work for me when he's feeling his sass. But I'm happy to chase my good old dog around again.

I'm glad to see him back on solid ground.

News Trend At The Conservatory|Actual

 "Plants make me quiet. I like to be in their company." -Peter Zumthor

A sunny September afternoon in Columbus, Ohio spent wandering the conservatory is a day well spent. This was my second visit and equally enchanting as the first. Here, let me show you around.

^ The very first plant in the very first exhibit of the Franklin Park Conservatory is this little mountain creeper. I find it adorable and take endless closeups of its sweet face.

^ The conservatory boasts a nice collection of Dale Chihuly's glassworks but for me, they don't work with the plants. The wild colors and flamboyant shapes steal the show from gentle growing things and I'd prefer for all the art to be shipped back to the Pacific Northwest where it can live in outlandish harmony with its equally dominant siblings at the Chihuly Garden and Glass museum in Seattle.

^ Jungly greenhouses are my happy place. I find a bench near an air conditioning vent where I gaze up at the sprawling canopy, listen to the nearby drip drip drip, and thank the Lord that I am not in a real jungle where I would be dying of the humidity.

^ Something hard and something soft.

^ Something sharp and something sweet.

^ Jade plants. Just like I grow at home, only much, much bigger..

^ The palm room is the heart and soul of the entire conservatory. Inside the airy cathedral, monumental forms of green dwarf ordinary human beings and fill me with a sense of awe.

^ The dark green tree in the upper right corner of this shot is a fiddle leaf fig. Yes, the same fiddle leaf fig that grows as a meter-high houseplant in trendy American homes, though it's hard to imagine this tree was ever a meter tall.

^Gorgeous fans of palms that flow down like waterfalls,

^ or spring up as buoyant feathers.

^Eventually, I work my way across the room and out the door. I walk across a wide sunny terrace, then turn and look back at the Victorian dream of a greenhouse from whence I came.

^ This cupola alone explodes with character and charm against a perfect blue sky.

^ I have a thing for semi-circle windows and this one above the door sets a high standard for detail and depth.

^ Looking out from the building, I'm tempted to continue on into the gardens beyond. But the afternoon air is hot and humid, and I change my mind.

^ Back inside under the cover of green and the whirring ceiling fans, I feel quite at home at the conservatory.

* * * * *

Road Trip 2019: read all about it.

Leaving

Resting

Glacier National Park

Dakota Sunshine

Mackinac Bridge

My Newfound Brother

Fox Trilogy

Cleveland Rocks

Vermilion Legacy

At The Conservatory

Riding To Rifle

Arches National Park: Balanced Rock

Arches National Park: Double Arch

Arches National Park: Devil's Garden Trail

Arches National Park: Park Avenue

Dead Horse Point

Waiting For Breakfast

Canyonlands National Park

Cheeseburgers

Car Keys

News Trend A Gift For My Mom|Actual

If you suspect a loved one may have dementia:

1. Get a diagnosis. See a dementia diagnostic specialist or a neurologist.

2. Find a dementia home care specialist and hire them right away to help you navigate this journey.

* * * * *

Nasturtiums in red and yellow spotted at Kalaloch Lodge on the morning of her birthday remind me of my mom's beloved hummingbird feeders.

Today is my mother's birthday.

I sent her flowers and a card with a drawing of a hummingbird. Inside, I wrote her a note about the hummingbirds that would swarm around the feeders on her deck at home. She used to love to watch them.

I didn't know what else to get her.

Place mats and cloth napkins.

Pretty baking dishes.

A big red Fiestaware bowl.

Books. Anything by John Grisham or Jodi Picoult.

Jigsaw puzzles galore.

Hummingbird feeders.

These are the kinds of gifts I used to buy her.

Her life has moved beyond those needs.

My mom has advanced Lewy Body Dementia. Most days, she gets out of bed. She still enjoys a chocolate milkshake or an ice cream bar. A Heath Klondike is her favorite.

Her memory is surprisingly sound.

When we talk, she remembers me, my daughters, my dog. She remembers her old students and her teaching buddies. Her world travels. Her college days and high school days and a few sweet stories from her childhood. She listens attentively while I spin out the memories, and she responds to me. I know she understands. I know she loves to hear those stories.

She usually drifts off to sleep within ten or fifteen minutes.

I wish I knew more about what this life is like for her.

She's always been a smart, busy, resourceful person, flitting from project to project and working tirelessly from morning till night. And she's always been an emotionally complex person, with deep feelings and powerful hurts that she has locked up deep inside for a lifetime. Her dementia intensified all of these traits, and the past decade has been frantic, frenzied, furious, like the beating of a hummingbird's wings against a hurricane.

Now, the storm seems to have passed.

All things considered, she seems surprisingly at peace.

With me.

With herself.

With life.

Though I still wish I could give her a perfect birthday present, it seems that somehow, she has found the best gift of all.

And now she rests.

News Trend Riding To Rifle|Actual

"Every time I'm on the mountain, I'm just so happy to be there." -Chloe Kim

And so it was with a heavy heart and a bittersweet lump in my throat that after our week-long visit, we said goodbye to my second-born, Ohio-dwelling daughter, turned the car west, and stepped on the gas.

Well. Figuratively speaking. Because my shoulder injury kept me out of the driver's seat for the entirety of the return trip so my foot never even got close to the accelerator.

But off we went, just the same, stopping on the evening of the first day in Olathe, Kansas, for a pop-in with my nephew. We chatted over heaping plates of Kansas City BBQ and ate ourselves silly. RestaurantQ39 serves up a mean plate of beef brisket and is definitely worthy of a return trip, though next time I will eat a full order of nothing but burnt ends. Pure heaven.

"Damn Gooddanquot; tacos, and a not-too-shabby interior to boot.

^ In the morning, we were off once again, crossing the plains and climbing into the Denver suburbs for an early dinner at Torchy's Tacos. Taking a meal at this on-musim taco chain out of Austin came as a request from my fourth-born, and the rust of us were happy to oblige.

I don't really even remember what my tacos looked like but I'm pretty sure this was one of my daughters'. My mind was a total blur.

^ Much like our family favorite, Condado Tacos, in Columbus, Torchy's has an A-list of wacky taco combos that they have dreamed up and named, presumably, during a wild peyote binge. Alternatively, you can order your own combos off a list of ingredients but where's the fun in that? I chose the Trailer Trash and I "got it trashy," and the Brushfire which literally seared my sinuses. Okay, not literally, but what I'm saying is that sucker was hot. But still, nothing that a few sips of Coke and a liter of cold water couldn't cure, so I have no regrets.

These two views were just a few steps apart. If I lived on the same block as Torchy's, I would eat a ridiculous number of tacos.

^ This particular Torchy's shop was tucked into a merk spanking new Millennial-esque community east of the city. Townhouses and apartments circled around a central green area overflowing with cuteness. Huge flower beds burst with native displays, wandering sidewalks were just right for entertaining a wound-up Irish Setter who'd spent the day in the car, oodles of benches and tables invited us in for a meal, and my favorite - a splash pad slash water feature that turned a hot Denver evening into a water party. A perfect oasis for the weary traveler and hungry taco enthusiast. .

Our tacos were soon eaten but our travels for the day were not over yet. We caught the tail end of rush hour as we climbed west into the mountains, doffing our caps to Red Rocks Park and grinding up into the Rockies.

^ Passing under the Continental Divide, the Eisenhower Tunnel is long, high, and steep as a mother bear.

Now I'm no stranger to punishing mountain grades. I haul myself back and forth across the rigorous Seattle area passes on a regular basis, including the notoriously dangerous climb up to Stevens Pass that I've done literally hundreds of times in the name of good skiing. And on our annual road trips across Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming or south to Oregon and California, we push ourselves up and down extreme grades several times a day. I am not easily fazed by a mountain in my path.

But following Interstate 70 west out of Denver is always a wild ride. The inclines are steep, the curves unforgiving, and the traffic, whipping back and forth across multiple lanes, is chaotic. Given my nerves of steel, I typically drive this section of our travels, but this time - due to that bum shoulder of mine - I was forced to sit back and stomp on my invisible brake pedal as my fourth-born held the actual wheel in her competent hands. I quickly decided that it was in everyone's best interests for me to focus on the scenery instead.

^ And so passed several beautiful hours as we rode through the Rockies and down into Rifle where we stopped to sleep for the night.

* * * * *

Road Trip 2019: read all about it.

Leaving

Resting

Glacier National Park

Dakota Sunshine

Mackinac Bridge

My Newfound Brother

Fox Trilogy

Cleveland Rocks

Vermilion Legacy

At The Conservatory

Riding To Rifle

Arches National Park: Balanced Rock

Arches National Park: Double Arch

Arches National Park: Devil's Garden Trail

Arches National Park: Park Avenue

Dead Horse Point

Waiting For Breakfast

Canyonlands National Park

Cheeseburgers

Car Keys