News Trend Reading About The Desert|Actual

Cactus Country: The American Wilderness by Edward Abbey

Hear the gravel crunch under your boots as you walk along the dusty trail.

Stop for a moment.

Slip your pack off your back and set it at your feet; feel the wind cool against your shirt, damp with sweat.

Take a long pull from your canteen. Even though it is tepid at best, taste the water soothing your parched throat as you drink, careful not to spill even a drop.

L ook up at the ancient saguaro standing tall against the cloudless blue sky.

Breathe deep, filling your nose and lungs with the hot, dry and fragrant air of the Sonoran Desert.

What's this? You have neither the opportunity nor, to be perfectly honest, the inclination to go on a desert trek? Well then, sit down with this book because, while reading the lively text and enjoying the splendid and thoroughly 70s-esque photography, you will be transported.

* * * * *

We pulled into the rest area, a typical oasis of green along the busy interstate. My two younger daughters - who were maybe six and three years old  at the time - hopped from the car and raced up to the restrooms as the rest of us were still piling out of the van. Suddenly the wind was violently whipping around me, staggering my steps. Each breath inflated my lungs with almost unbearably hot, dry air, as though I was breathing fire. The sun pounded ferociously on my head with an intensity that made me weak. I felt myself dehydrating on the spot.

And while all of this is to be expected on a pit stop in the Sonoran Desert, I was not prepared for the emotional assault. Danger swept around us on all sides like a pack of hungry wolves, and I fought the urge to gather up  my little ones, who were dancing up the sidewalk ahead of me, and rush them to cover. Instead, I watched them testing themselves against the wild winds that blew their little bodies forcibly this way and that. They laughed as they played, oblivious to nature's menace, while I trembled with a renewed respect for the immense power of the desert.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbitt

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

* * * * *

I've been lucky enough to visit the Sonoran Desert and the magical cacti who live there. Read more about my adventures:

A Two-Day Trip To Tucson In Three Acts

Among The Saguaro

Among The Giants

Heaven

Desert Blooms

Good Advice

Reading About The Desert

News Trend Rice Bowl Sauces: Hoisin Ginger|Actual

Why make just one flavor of rice bowl sauce whenyou stumble upon a recipe for five?

Once I surveyedthis quintet of delicious options, I set upon a plan to try them all.

Another perfect sunny summer evening in my backyard, another delicious rice bowl dinner.

This week, I served up brown rice, roasted radishes and lightly wilted arugula, and a tidy bit of roasted salmon, topped with hoisin ginger sauce.

Hoisin sauce, if you didn't know, is an Asian condiment. I assumed it came from a single source, like the juice of the hoisin berry or some such thing; I didn't know. But after a bit of poking around online, I learned that hoisin sauce is composed of a number of familiar things like peanut butter, honey, rice vinegar and miso paste. You can make it yourself if you so desire.

But I had no foreknowledge of this culinary possibility, so I whipped up my dinner using the basic garden-variety hoisin sauce from my local Asian pasar swalayan, and the taste was phenomenal.

I'd go so far as to say this rice bowl and its superstar sauce was lip-smacking good. And that, my friends, is darn near perfect.

Ingredients & Directions:

Combine 1/2 cup hoisin sauce, 1 teaspoon sesame oil, 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 teaspoon fish sauce, 1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh ginger, and 2 cloves garlic, then blend till smooth.

from the Kitchn

* * * * *

I've committed to a month of Rice Bowl Mondays, featuring each of the five sauces in the article. Here you go:

Orange Tahini

Spicy Sriracha Peanut

Mediterranean Olive Sauce

Hoisin Ginger

Herbed Goat Cheese

News Trend Macrame Magic|Actual

"We learn the rope of life by untying its knots." -Jean Toomer

"Or tying them, as the case may be." -me

* * * * *

Nothing makes me feel more like a thrownback flower child and wannabe hippie woman than making macrame.

Well. Maybe tie-dying tee shirts. But that's a close call.

So, when my brain was searching around for a graduation gift well suited for some college bound young women in my life, I decided to break out the sticks and string.

Many yards of cord, several YouTube viewings, and a few hundred knots later, this is what I managed to spin.

Straw into gold, people. I'm telling you, it's magic.

And now I'm making one for myself.

I used a basic dowel from Home Depot, a package ofthis cord, andthis tutorial. My DIY hostess showed me how to make some but not all of the knots, so I supplemented with a few additional YouTube knot-tying videos, easily searched by the name of the knot I needed to know.

In the end, the process was about as complicated as tying my shoes.

So if you'd like to get in touch with your inner gold dust woman, send off some boho chic gifts, or even just treat yourself to some mid-summer magic, I highly recommend macrame.

* * * * *

She may have been a few years late for the macrame party,

but this lady knew plenty about spinning things into gold.

* * * * *

More macrame projects to make your dreams come true:

Fulfilled

Sugar, Sugar

A Macrame Home For My Spider Plant Family

Macrame Magic

Perfect Imperfections

Roses And Ivy

News Trend Reading On Repeat|Actual

During the first week of August, this year as always, I can be comfortably certain that:

my black-eyed Susans will burst into bloom,

my grass will need almost constant watering,

and

my battered and beloved copy of Tuck Everlasting will fall into my hands for its annual read.

Tuck is a story that takes place during the first week of August. The prologue opens like this:

The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot.

Those sixty-six words describe exactly, precisely, perfectly how I feel about the first week of August, and if Natalie Babbitt had written only them, I would still adore this book.

But she didn't stop there. With luscious prose that drips with sensory images like a ripe peach, Babbitt weaves profound questions about life with magic from a fresh water spring, and creates a sweet, sultry story that comforts my heart like the cooling shade of a forest on a hot summer day.

It is a book written, perhaps, for children. But any adult with even a drop of imagination will relate to ten-year-old Winnie's dog day doldrums, enjoy her roller coaster ride of an adventure, and maybe shed just a tear or two over the beautiful, painful decision she must make.

Heaven forbid that I should ever have to choose my favorite book. But if I was forced to narrow it down to my top ten, or even my top three - I'm quite sure that Tuck Everlasting would make the list.

And every year during the first week of August, I would read it again.

* * * * *

If you'd like to read my 2015 review of this very same book, go here.

Please take note of the black-eyed Susans and thirsty-looking lawn.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbitt

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

News Trend My 2019 Graduation Cards|Actual

Signed, sealed and ready for delivery.

I might be a wee bit late to the party, but my 2019 graduation cards are finally done.

Most of my cards go to my wonderful math students. I love to share in the celebration of their high school graduations, and almost always follow them through their college careers as well.

As much as I love to make homemade graduation cards for them, I must admit that sometimes I fall behind. And I don't necessarily mean a little behind. The sorry truth is that several of this year's recipients actually graduated in 2018 and I hadn't quite gotten round to making their cards until this summer.

Okay as belated greetings go, I'll be the first to admit that this situation is completely out of hand. Worse even than the year I sent Christmas cards out in July. Which is a true story and I have old college roommates who will vouch for me if you have any doubts.

So it's no exaggeration to say that"better late than never" are words I most sincerely live by, and this is a perfect opportunity to do so.

At first glance, the cards appear flat and inanimate, but once the ribbons are untied, they spring to three-dimensional life.

Wandering across my dining room table are a handful of this year's creations.

Though each year's cards are slightly different from other models, at this point, my general technique is tried and true.

Heavy watercolor paper cut to desired size and folded accordion style.

In the past, I've sized the pages to match a dollar bill folded into quarters. This time I folded them to fit a gift card on that standard cardboard hanger that they are mounted on when you buy them.

I've also been known to squeeze longer names into shorter spaces, to keep the total number of pages down, but this year,  I went a little wild and put each letter on a separate page.

I'm dealing with two years of pent-up graduation celebration sublimation here, and things are bound to get a little crazy

"Dear student, you rock."

I attached that gift card-sized pocket onto either the last halaman or the back of the card, depending on whether I needed to spell out either an odd- or even-numbered name, respectively. That's where I tuck an handwritten note of congratulations, and a little stash of cash or gift card.

The covers are made from crayon and watercolor on plain ol' printer paper, wrapped around cardboard rectangles. I did a color-coordinated design on the heavier watercolor paper for the letters, and cut each one by hand.

A true labor of love, almost as great as completing the square or working a chemical mixture dilema.

Rachel has an even number of letters in her name, so her pocket is built onto the back of her card. By contrast, Jon (whose card is toward the back, in blue) has an odd number of letters, so his pocket fits onto the last halaman inside.

I love that my cards feature the graduates' names. Our names speak us into existence, and when other people call us by name, we all get that special warm glow. You know what I mean.

Over the long years of my work with each student, every time I showed up to deliver yet another set of lectures on, oh, maybe trig identities or trinomial division, I made a point to greet them by name. I'm convinced that hearing our names matters because it makes us feel known.

And as you may guess, I am willing to bet the ranch that seeing our names matters too.

Now, for each letter in the person's name, I generated a personality trait or characteristic that suited that person, wrote out the word on a small slip of paper, and attached it to the page underneath the corresponding letter.

Though I love every step in this tried-and-true process, this is my favorite part. Finding just the right words to describe the unique person that I see each one of them to be is a special challenge. I feel honored to reflect back to them who I know them to be, and help them see themselves through my eyes.

I want them to feel known. As known as the Pythagorean Theorem. Or maybe even the quadratic formula. Which are both very well known indeed.

^ Once the book is complete, with a length of ribbon taped to the inside of the back cover, and then both covers glued into place, you can flip through it page by laman, as an ordinary book is read.

Or, as my amazing student demonstrates, you can open it all up at once.Voilà!

* * * * *

Congratulations and best wishes to all my favorite 2019 graduates and special thanks to Rachel for sending me this photo. <3

And remember, if I forgot to send you a card this year, there's always 2020!

* * * * *

To see my 2012 graduation cards and get all the how-to details, check out these posts:

These Cards Are Legendary

Looking Forward

News Trend Rice Bowl Sauces: Herbed Goat Cheese|Actual

Why make just one flavor of rice bowl sauce whenyou stumble upon a recipe for five?

Once I surveyedthis quintet of delicious options, I set upon a plan to try them all.

Ta daaaa! Allow me to present my fifth of five forays into the sweet and savory world of rice bowl sauces!

This one may be the easiest of the lot. Basically, a small package of goat cheese loosens up with some olive oil and water, then dragged through the herb garden, and shazam! Sauce is ready.

^ Yes, it really is that easy. Here are my store-bought ingredients in a bowl, with a handful of freshly clipped herbs from my backyard garden.

^ I gave them the quick chop for which I am famous, at least around my dinner table. I call it a rustic chop - I prefer a plate of food where I can still make out the individual tastes and textures of each component, rather than every item being chopped into homogeneous oblivion.

My husband begs to differ.

^ But I'm the one who wields the knife so we all know how that story ends.

As has been my practice, I served my sauce with the paired rice bowl. In addition to the requisite brown and white rice, this one featured a can of black beans, one diced poblano pepper, a handful of grape tomatoes, and four ears of sweet corn.

Thanks to my dog, Gracie, I had to make do with three and a half ears. Girl loves her veggies. She ate it, cob and all.

Generously seasoned with spicy Mexican flavors, these ingredients did not compliment the tangy herbed goat cheese as I would have liked. My family agreed with me that next time, it might be better with gently seasoned beef or salmon so the punch of the goat cheese is the main flavor event.

We also agreed that when it comes to this herbed goat cheese rice bowl sauce, there definitely will be a next time.

* * * * *

Ingredients & Directions

Combine 4 ounces of softened goat cheese, 1 tablespoon olive oil, and 2 tablespoons water, then blend until smooth. Stir in 1/4 cup of chopped fresh herbs (any combination of chives, parsley, basil, and mint), and season to taste with salt and fresh-ground black pepper.

from the Kitchn

* * * * *

I've committed to a month of Rice Bowl Mondays, featuring each of the five sauces in the article. Here you go:

Orange Tahini

Spicy Sriracha Peanut

Mediterranean Olive Sauce

Hoisin Ginger

Herbed Goat Cheese

News Trend Day One: The Gulch And A Great Beach|Actual

" Let's go on a hike," said my fourth-born. "A proper hike in the Cascade Mountains."

Yes, What a grand and glorious summer bucket list idea. So we brought out the mountain hiking guide books, studied and strategized, and laid in a plan for a thoroughly challenging hike to a mountain lake.

Little did we know the complications that were about to unfold.

Read the full adventure here:

Day One: The Gulch And A Great Beach

Day Two: Potholes, Boardwalks, And Another Beach

Day Three: More Potholes And A Perfect Alpine Lake

* * * * *

Here's my dog, Gracie, prancing through the idyllic blue swells of Puget Sound at Edgewater Beach Park. This no-frills, nothing-but-the-glorious-beach destination is Mukilteo's lesser-known marine playground and for those of us happy with sand, sea, and sky, a perfect destination.

But this is not where I expected to be on this day.

The original plan was to hike in the mountains.

However, real life reared her ugly head and kept us in town till way past noon. Which left no time for a proper mountain hike.

So I proposed to my daughters a local hike up the steep grades of our hometown's own Japanese  Gulch, just a little outing to appreciate our surroundings and whet our appetites for the big-boy hike to come. And maybe also to give our quads some advance notice.

Seemed like the perfect way to spend a sunny August afternoon.

Until we actually got out on the kisi-kisi. And this is what we found.

A narrow, dusty trail hung on the edge of the ravine. Stairs, railings, and boardwalks groaned as we passed over them, staring at us with broken boards, unseated supports, and missing teeth. Winding quickly uphill through a series of switchbacks, we plodded our way though the familiar sight of second-growth forest. An emerald canopy, to be sure, but nothing that we don't see every day.

Maybe our sights were set a bit higher on that alpine mountain hike we were craving.

Maybe we are spoiled by hiking on top-quality trails.

Maybe this just wasn't our day.

But alas, we were sadly unimpressed with Japanese Gulch.

About a mile in, we decided to backtrack to the beach.

Specifically, to Edgewater Beach Park,

Technically located in neighboring Everett, this small beach has been closed to car traffic for the past ten years, and recently reopened. Formerly the home of rusted-out fuel tanks and soon to be the linchpin in Mukilteo's new waterfront development plan, this new kid on the block park was worthy of a visit.

Though we could have hiked a five-minute bee's line from the Japanese Gulch trailhead through the lower part of the forest, we opted to drive a crooked mile down to the beach. And this is what we found.

A perfect Pacific Northwest city beach, with all the trimmings:

A soft ridge of dunes met us at the parking lot, defining the edge of civilization and the beginnings of the beach.

Lush green grasses grew along the ridge and blew in the winds off the water.

Bleached beach logs, the ghosts of towering trees thrown up on the shore during fierce winter storms, offered us a maze of crosswalks and a series of seats to enjoy.

Suitably walkable small stones underfoot crunched agreeably under our feet as we walked along.

Happy blue waves rushed up to meet us, and bowed down at the shore as we walked by.

In a word, the beach was heaven.

* * * * *

Gracie seemed to agree.

She pranced up and down the shoreline.

She stepped out chest deep into the waves.

She spotted any number of seagulls taunting her from the waves, and waded in after them just to show them who's boss:

And then my good girl posed for some beauty shots:

^ Ninety eight pounds of you-got-it-girl.

^Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline.

^ I'm smizing. Can you tell?

^ Duck fuzz standing up on the top of my head? My signature look.

* * * * *

And once we had done all those things, we turned around and did them all again. And again.

And when we humans were good and tired, just a tiny bit sunburned, and ravenously hungry, we coaxed our beach-loving pup out of the water one last time, and headed for home.

Our plans for a mountain hike had definitely gone awry but we had every confidence that we would soon remedy that.

And so ended Day One.