Yelena's Salad

This is my version of Yelena's salad. 

And this is a serving bowl, though I may or may not have eaten most of it by myself. 

Recently, I ate lunch with my friend Yelena, and she treated me to a delicious bowl of salad.

Was it a vegetable salad?
Potato salad?
Chicken salad?
Or some magic elixir of all three?

I didn't know and I didn't care. I ate three helpings and felt no shame.

* * * * *

All afternoon, the memory of each bite haunted me.

And by evening, I decided to make some of this delicious nectar for myself.

Now, I could have called Yelena and asked her to send me the recipe. But that would have been a fairly complicated maneuver.

Yelena's mother tongue is Russian, and her English works best when we are face to face.

And my friend has mastered many tricks of the digital age, but texting me a link to a recipe on Pinterest may be beyond her pay grade.

* * * * *

So rather than cause Yelena any frustration or embarrassment, I decided to conjure up my own version of this recipe:

I sliced up a bunch of radishes and a large cucumber

I cubed and boiled five red potatoes and when they were almost done cooking, tossed in a half a cup of fresh green peas

I boiled two chicken breasts, and shredded them. I should have waited till they were cool.

I whipped together about a cup of mayo and two or three tablespoons of fresh chopped dill, and added a smidge of milk, just enough to make the dressing easier to mix in.

Then I stirred it all together.

And it was good.

* * * * *

To tell you the truth, I'm still not sure if this is a veggie dish or a potato salad or a cold chicken combo but I promise you that paired with some fruit, it makes a fast, easy, and cool summer dinner.

But be forewarned; Yelena's salad is so yummy that you may want to eat three helpings.

Hydrangea Reminders

"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. 

I love summer. 

Well, I love all the seasons, each for their own special moods and emotions.

But ever since I was a little girl, I have loved summer best. 

Playing barefoot in the woods, 

splashing in the lake, 

baking mud pies, and 

picking wild strawberries.

I haven't really changed much since those days.

"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." 

Inevitably, I feel a certain sadness as summer reaches the height of her power, and slowly, as the sun drops lower in the sky and dry leaves fall to the ground, she begins her quiet descent into fall. 

I feel this loss sharply in my garden. The spring tulips and daffodils are long gone, the lush rose blooms and delphinium spires of June have faded, and even the mid-summer day lilies bare their spent stalks. 

"It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone." 

But summer is not over. No, in some ways, the best is yet to come. 

Because the hydrangea are ready. 

Their flat flower heads explode into fluffy bursts of color, pink and blue and purple. 

And even though I know, as I have since I was a little girl, that bittersweet fall will be upon us soon enough, at the first week of August, the hydrangea remind me that there is still plenty of summer to come. 

* * * * *

Quotes from my favorite midsummer book, Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbit. 

Lunch With Yelena

Round red pitcher. Footed crystal. Petal-shaped bowl.

Basil on the cheese and fruit plate. Cherry tomatoes adorning the omelet. Fancy folded napkin. 

Bread in a basket and three kinds of spread in a special three-part dish.

Every now and then, I go to my friend Yelena's house for lunch. 

And every time, she makes me feel like a queen.

The food itself is always delicious. 

Cold veggie salad with chicken and dill.

An omelet stuffed with a medley of meats and vegetables.

Soft cheese and finely sliced apples.

Crunchy crackers and artichoke spread.

Iced tea.

Fresh raspberries.

A far cry from my usual lunchtime tomato sandwich scarfed down as I stand over the sink

While I enjoy every scrumptious bite, it's Yelena's beautiful table settings that make her meals so special to me. 

As I take in every beautiful detail, I imagine her preparing this feast for me, laying out her pretty dishes and arranging everything just so. 

At this week's lunch, Yelena went with a minimalistic presentation and I loved it every bit as much.

And as we sit and talk, I find myself thinking again and again what a lovely thing it is to have lunch with Yelena.

Innocent

"Whoever blushes is already guilty; true innocence is ashamed of nothing."

- Jean-Jaques  Rousseau

Look at that dreamy little angel, stretched out across my bed, the morning sunshine creating a perfect halo of light around her precious being.

You would never guess that just a few hours earlier, while I was out of the house and her babysitter napped, my sweet dog had brazenly stolen and snarfed down an entire loaf of freshly baked banana bread.

Her innocence knows no bounds.

Butterfly Effect

"In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a system can result in large differences in a later state.

The name, coined by Edward Lorenz, is derived from the metaphorical example of the details of a tornado being influenced by minor perturbations such as the flapping of the wings of a distant butterfly several weeks earlier."

- edited from Wikipedia

Smoky sunsets are gorgeous and terrible. 

Here in the American West, wildfires are a summer fact of life.

For the past week, our neighbors to the north in Canada's British Columbia have been under siege. More than a hundred wildfires are burning; as of today, twenty-three are considered to be significant in size.

Check out these photos. The devastation is horrible and beautiful.

Smoke from these fires has been drifting down here to Seattle all week long. Our normally perfect blue summer skies have been hazy, our air quality compromised, our sunshine brassy and unfamiliar.

And while our discomfort is a small price to pay for Mother Nature's destruction, I find this a stunning reminder that when a butterfly flaps its wings in Brazil, an tornado truly is born in Texas.

Director's Cut

It's one thing to haul a van full of stuff from your parents' homes across the country. 

That's the easy part. 

The hard part, I am learning, is trying to figure out what to do with it all once you get it back home. 

I'll be honest. I'm not going to spend my precious and fleeting Seattle summer in my garage, digging through the endless boxes and rearranging all my storage. Oh no. There will be time for that when the clouds roll in. 

For now, I'm leaving my newfound treasures to rest in the dark while I enjoy myself in my gardens. 

Well. Except for two striped director's chairs from my mom's deck at the lake in Michigan. 

The minute I dragged them out of the truck, I knew just where to put them. They seem to be enjoying their new life in the Seattle sunshine just fine. 

Cat Chair

My mother-in-law, bless her soul. was a cat lady. Now, for the most part, this was a theoretical concept, as she really only had just the one cat during her entire adult life.

Well. One live cat. During her battle with Alzheimer's, she cared for a whole collection of stuffed cats and happily enjoyed their quiet company until her dying day.

So it has given me great pleasure to let this old wicker rocker - which she gave me many years ago - live out its waning years as a special spot for our three furry boys. 

Now lately we've developed a problem. The weather and the years and the sharp little kitty claws have each taken their toll, and what I discovered when I lifted up the seat cushion this spring was that the bottom of the seat had finally given way. 

Well. I was not about to give up quite so easily.

So using my best MacGyver meets Gilligan Island repair skills, I armed myself with some sisal rope from Home Depot and went to work. 

Mmhmm. I know. I've got some pretty professional weaving chops right there. 

But the bottom line is that my kittens are back in business with a soft, secure cushion underneath their furry selves for some sweet afternoon naps in their favorite chair. 

And I'm sure that my mother-in-law is smiling down from heaven.