Category Archives: friends

Tea and Tomatoes

food and cooking, friends, my garden, , ,

Turkish tea fr Kate 9-2014Kate brought me the most amazing tea from Istanbul. I keep sniffing it and trying to discern what all those exotic smells are — no label tells me anything about it. And I’m kind of afraid to make a pot of tea and end up disappointed, because you know how herbal teas often don’t taste as good as their dry aromas lead you to expect? It  Well, what do I expect, after all that watering down…

P1110230 new mugBut when I do take the plunge, I will drink it out of this new mug I gifted myself with. Big mugs, preferably those that hold a pint, are my favorites, but they usually aren’t so girly looking. When I saw this big and flowery one, there was little deliberating.

Today Mr. and Mrs. C. came over. The guys then went to Starbucks to drink tea and talk, and we “girls” worked in the garden. It reminded me of when I was in Turkey lo these many years ago, and in the villages the men would sit in the café and drink tea and play tavla (backgammon) while the women were out in the olive groves harvesting the fruit.tomatoes peeling 9-14

But today really wasn’t much like that – we also spent quite a while looking at pictures of Kate’s wedding for which Mrs. C. had arranged the flowers, and we talked to the man who delivered a cord of firewood on to our driveway. He is 83 and still does all his own busintomatoes peeled 9-14ess.

Mrs. C. is always glad to take cuttings from my garden to experiment with. This time I sent her home with some wayward sprouts of my mystery salvia, and some succulents. Also some of our lovely Yellow Brandywines. But we still have more tomatoes than we can use fresh, so I scalded and peeled a bunch last week and made tomato pudding.

tomatoes peeling ice

Views of Carson Valley

agriculture, friends, mountains, ,

P1100336I remember the first time I saw the Carson Valley in the state of Nevada, and my amazement at seeing lush green hay growing in the shade of the Sierra Nevada peaks, on the edge of the desert. That was at least 30 years ago, and on every visit since then, usually just driving through on the way to somewhere else, I have feasted my eyes and heart on those scenes of quietly grazing cattle, and sagebrush lining the roadways.

My friend “Rosemary” and her family have recently moved back to the West, and to visit them where they live a little south of the capital Carson City, I drove east through California and over the Luther Pass at 7740 ft. on Hwy 89 south of Lake Tahoe. The pass is named for Ira M. Luther who traveCarsonrivermaprsed the mountains by wagon train in 1854.

 

 

This map shows a much larger area north and east of where I visited, including the whole of Carson Sink as it extends into Nevada and California.

 

P1100269

I arrived late at Rosemary’s place
because I just had to stop and take pictures of the new-mown hay.

On my layover day my friends took me on a hike up the slope west of the valley, toward Job’s Peak. The skies were black or grey, and we heard threatening thunder, but no rain fell.P1100317 Job's Peak Trail

In just over a mile we had reached the California border. I thought it was very exciting to be standing on that boundary line. Not that we could see the edge exactly…

 

P1100331 from state line

This is what we saw looking down from the state line. We had ever-changing cloud shows that afternoon, which made for varying light conditions, too.

The lupines wP1100294 flower crpere finished and had already made thick pods from their flower spikes, but small flowers nestled into the granite gravel, and big bushes of wild roses grew close to the little creek we jumped over.

 

 

P1100351 cloud

The air was so dry, my hair hung limply. Though the sun stayed mostly behind the clouds, it still managed to burn my face and lips. But I felt really good, standing on the side of the mountain with the breeze blowing my blouse.

It was a very happyP1100369 few days, being together with my dear Nevada Family friends. We sat outdoors in the clean and dry, just-warm-enough air for hours catching up on all the concerns of our hearts and minds  — well, as many of them as possible in this short visit. I’m looking forward to another trip over to that lovely Carson River Valley. P1100368

The mule’s ears are still babies.

friends, mountains, nature, travel, trees, wildflowers, , , ,

I’ve been up in the mountains, at Mr. and Mrs. C’s cabin. Several times I’ve written about our cabin stays at Lake Tahoe, and the previous posts had more interesting photos and reports. They are from May 2013, May 2012, and Sept 2011. This time I couldn’t seem to focus my documentarist skills, but I did have some noteworthy experiences.

This was the first time to have snow! As we reached Echo Summit on Highway 50 (7382 ft.) the snow began to fall, while clumps of older snow were at the same time dropping from the trees because of the recent rain.

Echo summit snow trees rocks 5-6-14

We couldn’t hear the clumps fall, though – Everything was too soft and fluffy to make an impression on our ears.

We two couples drove to the Nevada side of the lake to Virginia City, as we had done in 2011. It’s not very photogenic, because the interesting old buildings are full of too many shops full of junk. But if you used to enjoy the “Bonanza” TV show, you might remember that Virginia City was the closest town to the fictional Ponderosa Ranch. This map that I photographed in the cabin is confusing in that North is not at the top of the image.Ponderosa E of Tahoe

We didn’t come up completely short as we strolled through town, because we all found some treasures in a rock shop: bracelets, bookends and an onyx box made from stones that came from all over the world. We drove around the residential area down the hill from the rickety old boardwalk and the most beautiful things were the many lilac bushes in full bloom of every possible color.

Back down in the forest by the lake, the wooly mule's ears Tahoe 5-7-14squaw carpet is in bloom, and most of the mule’s ears are still babies. I thought their little fuzzy leaves were very dear.

I liked walking around the neighborhood of the cabin, where tall Ponderosa and Jeffrey pines have dropped big cones all over the yards and streets. In every place that squaw carpet was blooming, spreading phlox (Phlox diffusa) was right there trying to steal the show.

spreading phlox and squaw carpet
(purple) squaw carpet and (white) spreading phlox

Many of the public beaches on the lake are still closed, but one day we parked on the highway and walked through the forest on to this beach so that we could throw sticks – or actually, small logs — to the dog Cali.

Kiva Beach 2014

The mountains above still have their frosting of snow, but spring is here, and the weather is warming up. Soon the tourists will arrive, but we are gone….and home again.

I’ll tell you about the stars.

cabin, friends, nature, , , , , , , , , ,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The stars made the biggest impression on me, this time at the mountain cabin by the lake, but not in the usual way.

Normally what strikes me at such a high elevation is the brightness, how the Milky Way is huge and obvious, and how even my weak eyes can see the Pleiades. But last week the moon stole the show with its competing lumens. I’ll have more to say about the stars later.

Just below the place that was too steep for my timidity…
Tall and Short climb Gumdrop.

We had friends with us whom I’ll call Tall and Short. They are good sports and happy campers, very resourceful and cheerful when challenges arise. I will only tell you about the most fun challenge, of climbing Gumdrop Dome. I failed to surmount it for the third year in a row, and after I gave up I walked around the base to meet the others coming down the other side.

Of course I found a new plant on my walk, something that looks like a fern and a succulent at the same time, and was growing against a granite boulder, its “fronds” about as tall as my forefinger. I marked it with cairns above and below so that when my camera was returned to me I would be able to find this best of the specimens again.

I have no idea what it is, or how to start researching it. And I need to spend time on other things now, like making small dolls.

Seemingly tiny real people descend Gumdrop.

I took along on the trip my doll project that has been in the works for years without a single doll being born. (More than three years ago what slowed me down was stuffing-wool so dirty I couldn’t bear to tell its story, but that excuse is long expired.)

And while sitting on the cabin deck in the warm afternoons I completed three tiny dollies! I’ll post more photos of them when I have a bigger family to show. But it was a breakthrough that added to my contentment with a vacation that tried to scream “too short!”

More pleasant hours were spent paddling around the lake with my husband, while Mr. Tall fished and Mrs. Short sat on a rock nearby and knitted sweaters for her expected first grandchild.

Gumdrop Dome from the lake

Many rocks are exposed that we normally prefer not to see. It was a year of little snow in the Sierras, so the lake is down. But it’s fun to drive out into the dry lake bed a ways and park in the midst of granite drama, as in the photo at top.

We can’t imagine that there is another Sierra lake that has so many granite domes and peaks encircling it. As we floated on the lake I studied the variously shaped rocks and tried to come up with names for them. Only one is named on the official maps, but I think they all are deserving.

This picture shows at least four hitherto unnamed domes. The one on the left I want to call Glad Peak, because Mr. Glad and Soldier climbed it one time. In the center of the photo are two domes side-by-side, whom I am calling He and She. Between those in this view is a peninsula that is in a normal year called Ant Island, and which we like to paddle to and around. But not this time….

It doesn’t matter if the snow pack was light, or if some trees have died, the sky is unchanged. But on the first night up there I completely forgot to go outside to greet the stars. The next day we all talked about how we must view them together that second night — but the sun sets so late, and half of our party was in bed before the other half of us remembered again. Then I forgot and put on my nightgown, and then remembered again. Almost dutifully I opened the slider, pulled the door shut behind me… and immediately felt myself in Deep Heaven, what C.S. Lewis wanted to name what we coldly term Space.

The stars crowded me, pressing their quietness down. I was alone, standing on the deck barefoot with the cool night air on my legs, but barely noticing the slight discomfort, because of the great company of beings so close — just me and them being familar, and me wondering. It would have been rude to leave after only a quick glance, and besides, they were telling me something.

I walked slowly around in the dark, annoyed by the light from the lamp inside, which I tried to keep behind me. Not a human sound could be heard, not even an animal sound. It was the kind of quietness that is roaring — but with what? I couldn’t pin down what it was, so I stood and listened. The host of heaven with weighty silence conveyed the presence of The Holy, and it was almost too exhilarating, that close to bedtime.

Eventually I had to go inside and climb under the covers. But my exciting encounter with the stars changed me in this way: Years ago I did make solitary mountain retreats here at the cabin, for several days at a time, but I haven’t felt up to doing that again. Now that the feeling has been revived in me, of being alone and at the same time the opposite of lonely, I am hungry for more of it, I want long days and nights of it, and I plan to return in September. I think those stars are angels.