use real butter

Recipe: rose green tea-infused panna cotta with passion syrup

**There are still a couple of days left to enter the $100 giftcard giveaway. If you somehow haven’t entered yet, then get on it!**

I’m tickled, really. My nose has been feeling ticklish for the past couple of days and so I know pine pollen season is here for the next few weeks. I love Nature and apparently she is loving me right back. So beautiful and yet so sniffly…

larkspur bask in the sunshine

chickweed is going gangbusters

green season underway at last

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No recipe today, kids. I didn’t want to mix things up too much here, as there is a giveaway to announce! I trust everyone had a pleasant weekend?

We had a small group of people (and their assorted extensions) from Jeremy’s department up for a barbecue on Saturday. Our intention was to invite them oh… two years ago, but we got waylaid for well over a year with my treatments and randomly leaky appendix. Once that was mostly behind us, it was winter and we don’t invite the uninitiated up to our place in winter lest they never want to return again. So finally(!) we could feed the starving graduate students and the not-so-starving non-graduate students properly this past weekend. It was nice to meet the people behind the names.

the menu
crudités and spinach dip
chips, salsa, and guacamole
citrus, almond salad
german roasted potato salad (sans bacon)
honey wheat rolls
roasted pepper, goat cheese tart (sans prosciutto)
grilled marinated flank steak
barbecue chicken
vanilla bean, matcha green tea, chocolate, and coffee ice creams
chocolate stout cake

busy eating

That morning we purposely took Kaweah on a trail run so she would be a little too pooped out to shamelessly beg for food from guests. She still shamelessly begged, but at least it was more hopeful than shameless. J’s two young children kept themselves amused with Kaweah and then with our yard, bringing in giant bouquets of dandelions, gold banner, and bluebells they had picked. As we saw folks off that evening, I noticed that our yard had gone from gold- and blue-dotted to pure green. I should have known better than to leave the flowers in the house because my eyes were gummy and weepy the next morning what with all of the pollen from our yard concentrated in our living room. And I see the pine cones out my window are primed with the yellow powder of passionate pine tree sex. It begins. My arsenal of steroid nasal sprays, antihistamine drops, and pills are at the ready.

While it will be another month before wildflowers make their entrance in the high country, the wildflowers of our neighborhood trails are ramping up while the ones down on the flats (Boulder) are at or just past peak. For a flower-dork such as myself, this translates into wildflowers from April through September. Nice.

fo shiz on that, yo

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Recipe: pasta with summer squash, sausage, and goat cheese

There has been quite a bit of instability in that part of the atmosphere sitting over my house. It makes for interesting weather: sun, rain, hail, winds, cold, warm, frost and one of my favorites:

lightning

But today we are back to sunshine, although our afternoon thunderstorms are pretty much here to stay for the summer – and I welcome the rain and cooling off they bring each day. Kaweah has a knack for finding the very edge of the shade and then parking her furry self just outside of it.

too bad she isn’t a solar panel

School is out. I can tell this from the tent that my neighbor’s kids have pitched on their deck and the happy screams zooming past our windows, Doppler effect and all, every evening. It gets dark around 8:30 and we don’t eat until 9 or later. Kaweah petitions for dinner when the sun goes down, so Mother Nature fools her big time in summer (it’s a pain in the ass come winter when she starts begging around 3:30). The pine tree pollen orgy has not peaked yet, but my itchy eyes indicate the party is getting started. The foxes and the coyotes will be facing off and staking out their territory in our front yard, soon.

green gentian

We’ve lived here long enough that the trails we hike are recognizable even under 8 feet of snow. I know where the columbines will bloom. I know which scree fields the pika live in. I know when the stream flow will peak. I know what the light looks like in July versus October versus March. I know what the air smells like as the snowpack thaws from under the pine forest canopy. I know which cornices remain into late summer. I never thought I would treasure this sense of the familiar, but I do. I relish it and it feels like home. It may be a sign of getting older… I don’t really care. I rather think of it as a sign of happiness.

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