Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley
Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley
Sorted by date Results 226 - 230 of 230
I needed to get out of town for a while last Saturday morning, so pointed my old RAV4 northward, with no particular place to go (thank you, Chuck Berry). My friend Leslie Cain called it "noodling," which is what I now call what Renny Russell (of On The Loose fame, Google it)) and Bill Wayne taught me to call "ramblin'" when I hung out with them during Spring Break in Penasco, New Mexico in 1969. Either way, noodling or ramblin' around the gravel roads surrounding Waitsburg never gets old for me,...
My household is extremely lucky in that it hasn’t felt much of an economic impact from this whole mess. My mom is teleworking overtime, my brother’s job at a ski shop wasn’t going to be netting him very many hours in April under the best of circumstances, and I’m still an unemployed bum. But I know that many workers—indeed, industries—haven’t been as fortunate. To my readers who have taken an economic hit from COVID-19, know that you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please don’t hesitate to g...
We finally finished unpacking all of Daniel's books (all 30 boxes of them), and his totes full of kitchen equipment, including a vast amount and variety of spices and a treasure trove of chemicals. The majority of the bottles, packages and tools are foreign to me. He looked at me with his usual one eyebrow raised show of disdain as I rolled my eyes at the jars and packets we were moving into the pantry. But I admit, I'm becoming a believer. He has become extraordinarily accomplished in the...
I've concluded that there are really just two types of dogs - those who like playing with balls, and those who do not. From the first day we spent together, me tossing and Cookie chasing a ball across an empty infield in a deserted park, it was clear that she was a ball dog. Up until then my only ball dog experience was with a big-boned mutt that lived a couple doors up from our home on Palm Avenue in West Seattle. The short and narrow street sloped downhill from there, ending in a small park...
While 2020 certainly has been off to a rocky start complete with a major flood and pandemic, I seek solace in the promise of another spring and the simple joys of harvesting my own food helps to keep me steady. After a chilly early March, I'm thrilled to see the apricot tree has started to bloom, the rhubarb is poking through the soil and the spinach is germinating in the raised beds. I've sown an inordinate amount of seeds in my basement under grow lights and have dragged my husband into...
