I got this peony at the farmers market. It was in a huge bucket full of flowers, $2 for a stem, and when the stall vendor asked me which one I'd like, I pointed to this main bloom.

In the sea of blossoms, it was all I could see of the stem.

When he pulled it out and I saw that there were two other tight buds attached, I felt so pleased. Immensely lucky, like I'd won a prize, or chosen wisely.


They were so tightly curled, for a few days I feared they'd been plucked too soon and wouldn't open.

It turns out I was wrong. They are unfurling now (so luxuriously that I feel I can see them drooping and growing heavier before my eyes) and filling the room with their scent.


I love peonies.

Painting, for the first time in a while.

It comes back easily. It's muscle memory--the palette knife swirl, the jab and swipe of brushes, reaching for my bottle of medium.

The movements are almost too ingrained. It's hard to make them feel fresh, which I think is why I stopped for a time.

It felt nice to do it again.

I think this might be my new theme song for this summer.

Or perhaps a few of the songs on Johnny' Flynn's new album?

Luckily, I don't really have to decide.


Can you see the vineing shadow in the last photograph?

That's my lavender.

I think the weather gods might have heard my wishes and taken note of my offerings; Seattle was rewarded with glorious golden sunshine this weekend that felt (and looked) sweeter than honey.

So I spent the past few days doing every summery thing I could think of. We got ice cream at Molly Moon's (Carrot Cake for me, Strawberry-Rhubarb for him), thrifting cloches to support my cupcake obsession, hunting sunlight and shadows on all of my plants and flowers like someone on safari, making bright, warm-weather necklaces, and drinking mojitos supplied by a friend who came over to enjoy burgers, potato salad, and farmers market fruit with us as we tested out our new grill (!!).

If there's something all people who live in the Pacific Northwest know it's that you need to take advantage of nice weather when it comes.

This weekend? I think we were successful with that.

The new offerings to summer are all planted and installed on their windowsill. Cat was curious, but so far she's been on good behavior around them.

I love my herbs, and the boy's succulents are sweetly bizarre, but sometimes a girl just needs some flowers.

I've also been enjoying this singer lately. Such gentle, quirky music--I love it.

What have you been listening to?

When I was little I used to make bread with my mother during every school vacation. Between multiple risings and long baking time, the recipe we loved best took all day to make, so we only ever had enough time to devote to the task when school was out, be it Christmas break, Spring break, or Summer holiday. Whenever I find my grown-up self having enough time to bake a batch of bread (and it's been a while) I think of this and smile. It makes something as relatively simple as homemade bread seem so special--like a treat.

While the apartment filled with the smell of yeast and baking dough, I also simmered a batch of marinara sauce, made with basil and oregano from the windowsill pots (trimmed and thrown in the sauce pan in a desperate attempt to keep them from taking over the place, Jumanji-style). Here's the recipe I worked with--it's simple enough that you can do pretty much anything you want to it. It also freezes well.

Homemade Marinara

+3 tbs. butter
+1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
+1 28 can diced tomatoes
+1 onion, diced
+5 cloves garlic, diced
+1 6 oz. can tomato past
+2 tbs. fresh basil
+1 tsp. fresh oregano
+2 bays leaves
+1 tbs. brown sugar
+2 tbs. balsamic vinegar

Melt butter in a large pot and add onion and garlic and cook until very soft and starting to caramelize. Add tomato paste and cook until paste begins to darken, about 1 minute. Add the herbs, bay leaves, brown sugar, and vinegar and simmer on medium-low with the lid on slightly ajar for ~1 hour. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed, then remove bay leaves.
Enjoy!

Perhaps in response to my offering of new, summery plants, I received two gifts that remind me that Summer is indeed coming:

+A pair of luscious jars of plums grown, harvested, and canned by a friend. I've left them sitting on the table in the kitchen for now so I can dream about all the plum cakes I will make with them when the days are warm and lazy.

+A bouquet of my family's famous peach rhodies, taken from a bush that was blooming so ecstatically that it was breaking under the weight of itself.

What signs of summer have you been enjoying?

I must admit, I have been despairing a bit lately.

I sit at my desk and look at my calendar, then out my window. The disconnect between the month of the year and what I see outside makes my heart sink. The unseasonable grey and the chill and the strange, muggy air make me wonder: will Summer ever come to Seattle? At my ridiculous worst, I imagine this weather stretching from today's date out until the end of September when the season begins to turn to Autumn, skipping beautiful, glorious Summer entirely!

Ridiculous, I know, so instead of despairing any longer yesterday, I decided that unseasonable weather be damned, I was going to get some summery flowers for another windowsill box. At the market where I bought them, I discovered some gorgeous, summer-priced cherries, so I bought those too, even though the whole time I was there it was dark and threatening to rain.

By the time I got home with my beautiful bounty, the sun was peaking out, and as I set the bright flowers and deep red cherries on the counter, a bit of light finally broke through into my kitchen and onto my little pile of goods. The beam was so golden and new that I couldn't help but gasp and I thought, "Ah! Perhaps summer isn't so far away after all."

This weekend I:
-Received some nice mail
-Explored the zoo
-Enjoyed a spot of sun before the weather turned back to grey (uggh)
-Read about a creature that turns everything that looks into its eyes completely white
-Strolled my beloved farmers market, &
-Discovered a new band

Not bad for the first weekend at home in a month.

Yesterday I went to see this show. I liked Peter Nelson's piece so much that I came straight home and looked up his website and other works. This piece left me sitting at my desk, crying. I haven't been moved like that by a piece of art in a long while.

Visiting with the boy's family at their cabin on the other side of the mountains.

We have been out of town the last three weekends in a row.
Everything has been lovely, but home has never looked so good.
I feel outrageously lucky for both the going away and the coming back.