Doomed petals

More snow is on the way, which will spell doom for the magnolia blossoms, alas. And I'm hoping it doesn't mash my tulips too much. The big ones are just about to bloom.

I can't remember what this bulb is on the right. It's very ... fleshy, and has a yellow throat with black spots (need to get a better photo of that). It makes me think of "Little Shop of Horrors." But it's very small.

The tree peony's "hands," meanwhile, are unfurling. No buds yet, but it's early.

Some trees, like the linden I planted a few years ago, haven't even started leafing out yet. They're the smart ones, waiting until the coast is clear.

Our last frost date is May 20.

What I'm reading:"The Language of Baklava" by Diana Abu-Jaber

I'm glad I have a plain-covered advance reading copy of this book, because I hate both the covers I found. The hardcover is above, the paperback below.

However, I am loving the book itself, which is in the attractive but hard-to-pull-off genre of "memoir with recipes."

The author's mother is American, her father Jordanian, and she grew up in upstate New York, mostly, except for some time in Jordan when she was in grade school. (And a later stint as an adult.) But she is surrounded by the culture, language and food of Jordan, and by her father's extensive family, who live nearby.

This book is a loving reflection on living between two worlds, and the important role that food plays in pulling the family together. Her stories are tightly written and the recipes are deftly woven in. It falls apart a little in the wrap-up, where she goes from the highly detailed vignettes of childhood to a quick gloss on the following 20 (30?) years, but overall I enjoyed reading this book and look forward to trying some of the recipes.

P.S. I did make a couple of the recipes, and posted about them. Click here.

The old dog is snoring

Not so great photo taken with cellphone. Since I took all that extra hair off Sophie, she's been a real cuddlebug. And now that she's getting older, she snores. Here she's propped up against me in bed, out cold and sawing logs.

(And yes, it's supposed to rain today.)

Happy Easter Monday

It was a beautiful table and a yummy feast.

Then and now

Jackson on Feb. 12 ... less than two months ago:
Jackson today:
Damn! He's gettin' growed!

Books books books

I would like to show you what my bookshelves look like right now, but I can't do it. They're completely jam-packed with books, two or three layers deep. They look wonderful, and they look like hell.

See, I like books. A lot. And for the last few years I have had access to new books at very affordable prices. So I've bought books. A lot.

I bought books because I liked the covers. I bought books because I had heard something about the author. I bought books I wanted to read, and books I thought I should read. I bought books that reflected the kind of person I would like to be.

I filled up the shelves, then filled them some more, then insinuated books into every crack, cranny and crevice I could find on a shelf.

You can guess what happened next.

I ran out of room.

It's a comforting sight – I'll never lack for anything to read, no matter what my mood. But it's too much. It's too much for the room. It's too much for the pretty bookcases.

So begins the Great Bookcase Cleanup of Ought-Seven.

More later.

(Thanks to The Nonist's Hot Library Smut for the above photo of Prague's Strahov Monastery library.)

Snoooooooooow

It was supposed to do this yesterday and then stop.

At least it's pretty. Big, fat flakes floating straight down. And everything looks brighter than yesterday's gloom.

My bookshelves: an introduction

These are old photos, taken in ...2000? 2001? on this archaic medium you may have heard of called "film." The first photo is of my messy desk and craptacular fiberboard bookcases that I bought at a yard sale. Look! There's my old iMac.

The next photo is of Pascal, a woodworking genius. I was complaining to my welder (another story) about my inability to find anyone willing to build bookcases for a price I could afford. "What about Pascal?" he said. "He's a carpenter."

I knew Pascal from a friend's swing band. He plays a mean guitar. Turns out he also did a cabinetmaking apprenticeship in France. He looked at the room, gave me a bid, and I said, "done and done." Didn't check references, didn't even know about the apprenticeship at that point. He hadn't done a big job like this here before, didn't have many of the tools he needed, or any workspace of his own. But he bought the tools and set up shop in my garage. (Which was full of crap that I stored for some freeloading "friends" for a year and a half, but that's yet another story – and a lesson learned.)

The result? As Pascal would say: Voilà:
The design and execution are entirely Pascal's. I said I wanted the bookcases to be adjustable and to wrap around the windows, and I wanted crown molding. That was it.

Thanks to Pascal, the edges of the adjustable shelves are all beveled, and the skirt around the tops of the shelves is echoed by one on the middle shelves. The skirt also serves to make the shelves look the exactly same height all the way around the room, though the floor is not level. Hard to see those details in this photo, but trust me. He also did all the painting. It's a pale sage green (I did pick that).

So that's the background on the Great Bookcase Cleanup of Ought-Seven. Stay tuned.

P.S. The white poodle is the late, great and gay Doogie of the fabulous ears.

Just a dusting

It's 24 degrees out and the snow keeps coming down, but it's very dry and light and isn't lasting long. I'm having trouble talking myself into walking the dog. In the meantime I've embarked on the Great Bookcase Cleanup of Ought-Seven. More on that later.

Gallery-hopping on First Friday

Nothing is wasted

"Look, dear, someone left out a lovely bone for us!"

What molecules of meaty goodness that Sophie doesn't extract, the flickers do. And the foxes. Last fall while cleaning the gutters, I found bones on the roof of my garage, well-gnawed.

Bad day, good day

Uh-oh.
What evil, terrible torture is in store?You. You brought me here.That sweet talk won't work on me. Nuh-unh.
Now you're talkin'! Sweet!

The checkup went fine, and the toenails got clipped without too much fuss. After the vet, the park. That's the deal, even when the weather's not so nice. If you're bundled up enough, it's not too bad. And Sophie gets plenty warm running after her toy. She's a good retriever.

Not many other folks at the park, but Ozzie the poodle was among them. He outweighs Sophie by 30 pounds and is a former Seeing Eye dog. He really wanted Sophie's toy, but reportedly is not so good about the "letting go" part of fetching, so he had to be content with skritches instead.

At home, Sophie got a honkin' big bone from Safeway, since we ran out of the smaller ones. Safeway won't cut bones to order anymore. "Too many people losing fingers," the butcher told me. Now Wild Oats cuts them for me instead, and my order will be ready later today. Better quality bones, too, I think. No reports of lost digits yet.

P.S. Now I can hear Sophie snoring from two rooms away.

Famous last words

I really should know better. "No more snow in the forecast" is just not a declaration you can make before, say, the end of May here. It's alternately raining and sleeting right now, with 3 inches of snow forecast tomorrow.

Sophie and I have an appointment at 9, which I had planned to follow with a visit to the dog park. And which I think I will still do, but with many more layers on.

High on grass

Ohhh, zee grass, eet eez so cool and refreshink! I must rrrrrroooollllll! Rrrrrroooooollll!

Back at my desk

I had a lime green iMac for about 6 years. It finally became impossible to work with. A homemade pc with 20-inch borrowed monitor took its place and blocked my lovely view. Last weekend I at last got help to move the 50-pound monitor out and toss the dead printer. Now there is space to move my new-ish MacBook and printer off the dining room table! And even better, I have my lovely view of the street back. Next project: cleaning the front porch and getting a tablecloth and flowers out there. (posted via cellphone)