As usual

 

The Spartan tree is covered with hundreds of small apples-- as usual, each with its own personal worm. I planted that tree over 30 years ago as a little stick from a catalog. 

This cultivar was developed in British Columbia in 1936, and it was first apple produced from a formal scientific breeding program. Genetic testing has still not revealed its exact parentage. 

According to AI, Spartans faded from production as they are prone to disease. No kidding. It's just a specialty cultivar now, primarily grown in the native region of Canada, or as a home garden "novelty." That's a nice word to keep in mind while you're raking up piles of rotting apples. 

But I picked a basket of the nicer ones to do something with this weekend. They make pretty good applesauce, but that is a ton of messy work for something we don't eat very often. 

In fact, I haven't been into canning much at all this summer, other than a small batch of chutney made with our Roma tomatoes and pears from Lone Pine. 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Mellow yellow

 

September 9th is National Chrysanthemum Day, a holiday also called the “Festival of Happiness" that originated in Japan a thousand years ago. 

In honor, I bought this gold one at QFC this morning. Yesterday at Costco, they had those barrel sized pots as usual, tempting, but almost impossible to get home in with all the other random stuff piled in your cart and car.

The flower symbolizes happiness and joy, but will forever remind of me a short story from way back in my English major days called "The Odour of Chrysanthemums," by D.H. Lawrence. A poignant tale about 19th century coal mining in England and a sad relationship. Don't read it unless you're already depressed.

Today is overcast again, but yesterday turned out to be nice after all. I did some light cleanup and pruned back the roses covered in black spot, usual for this time of year. The clock is running out on these warm afternoons and the yard was sure mellow in the soft September light.

Soft and gleaming season

 

 

"Early Autumn," Maxfield Parish 

 The late Washington Post garden columnist Henry Mitchell once wrote:  

There is no need to think of September as the trash bin of the year, with just scraps of leftover things in the garden, because many things are only coming to perfection at the end of summer--a soft and gleaming season. 

 For example, Autumn Sedum...

That's a September photo from years ago, when I still had the inclination (and energy) to cut the beds to the ground and then mulch with carts of maple leaves from across the street. 

A tidy look, but actually it's better to leave most plants standing to provide food and shelter for birds and wintering insects. Actually I enjoy getting outside on those first mild February days to start chipping at the cleanup. 

 

So far, September has been more murky in Seattle than soft and gleaming. The air quality is better, but there are still 14 wildfires burning in Washington state. Not much rain in the forecast this week. 

 

 

 

Out for a spin

 

We headed downtown yesterday to check out the new waterfront park and take a ride on the Great Wheel. 

As you can see, a bit murky, although most of the fog had burned off by the time we went up, at least enough to see the skyscrapers emerging through the spooky mist. The mountains, nope. We're under a blanket of wildfire smoke, but fortunately most is staying at high levels.

 

And we had the car all to ourselves to take bad selfies. Actually, we had planned to go on this excursion today, but a grand opening celebration is happening at the waterfront park and they're expecting over 50,000 people to jam the area.  

We had lunch at Ivar's Acres of Clams-- fish tacos for me and chowder for John, then shared a scoop of Molly Moon ice cream before taking the water taxi back home. The full Seattle tourist experience.  

I logged 10,000 steps on my watch by the time we walked the mile home from the West Seattle Junction. 

Just taking it easy for the rest of the weekend. Have you heard, football season started? 

 

Happy birthday, John!

Fall?

 

You wouldn't have thought so in Twisp this week, where the temperature topped 100. Fortunately, we have a window air conditioner that keeps the main room cool. Karen and I sat on the sofa chatting the other afternoon, and a deer went by looking in the window with its tongue literally hanging out. Poor thing. 

School started yesterday in Seattle, and if that's not a fall wake-up call, nothing is. With the middle school across the street, we have traffic gridlock on our block twice a day during drop off and pick up times. 

Everyone is rushed and frantic, so it's also dangerous with kids darting between lines of moving cars. Fortunately the traffic jam doesn't last long, but for the next 10 months, we must watch our comings and goings. Woe to you, if you forget and come home with a load of groceries at the wrong time. 

I'll miss the quiet life again, but for now it feels good to be home. At Lone Pine yesterday, I bought local corn, pears, peaches, garlic and squash. We had an unusual but tasty pizza last night with red onion, Canadian bacon and our own Roma tomatoes. Cucumbers courtesy of Karen's garden.