So I planted primroses, because spring is coming...

...And there they are, yesterday morning, poking through SNOW. It melted as soon as the sun came out, but still.

Today the weather has veered between rain, snow in places, and a mist over the lake that might be fog, rain, snow or just very low clouds.

It's good weather to stay in. I've done minutes for a meeting last night, written a press release for the upcoming orchestra concert, and made a poster to print out. All that's left is the concert program.

Back to The Tale of Genji, my current retreat from modern life. 11th century Japanese princes spent a lot of time dressing in beautiful clothes and visiting compliant (and some not-so-compliant) ladies, according to the first few chapters of Murasaki Shikibu's book (she lived at court, and wrote about what she knew.)

On the third day of Christmas...

We finally have the great meltdown. My street is 99% clear, and even the BMW that was parked in the illegal spot opposite our building for over a week has disappeared.

Dirt-encrusted snow boulders still line the plowed streets, but they will go away eventually. Now the danger is flooding and avalanches. At mid-day there was a 5-mile backup on I-90, as traffic was halted for avalanche control in the pass.

At Christmas I like vintage. The wreath is actually a 4-inch metal ornament we've had around for years. None of us can remember where it came from or when - it's just there, in the decorations box. A few years ago I started hanging it on the front door. Who said a wreath had to be huge?

And here's a vintage Christmas greeting, from "Private Screening," an elegant second-hand shop in Fremont. The image is embossed on heavy paper, with the name of the senders engraved inside.


Posting it is an excuse to link to my favorite Christmas poem, Eliot's "Journey of the Magi." Even when you know that Eliot borrowed some of the best lines and images from a sermon on the Epiphany, delivered by Bishop Lancelot Andrewes on Christmas Day 1622, it's still a moving poem, full of wonder and sadness and regret and imagination.

This is not a black-and-white photo...

Snow has fallen all day, and now that it's getting dark, and colder, the slush is going to freeze. Buses are running very late, if at all (also not going up or down hills) and freeway ramps are treacherous.

L. made it safely to the airport, but her plane was delayed, and she is now stuck in Las Vegas, trying to get home if she can't go on to Florida.

Choir rehearsals for tonight and Saturday afternoon canceled - as is the Sunday morning program. First time THAT has happened in my 30+ years in the choir (including a couple when we mushed through snow to get to church on time. But with the weather that's predicted for the weekend, it's the wisest decision.

Here's Sparky, checking out this morning's snow -



- and there she went!

Snow!

Always cause for exclamation marks around here. So far it's only sticking on top of the plant pots, but the first flakes lasted long enough for Sparky to pounce as they hit the deck.

Weather is supposed to get colder, but the forecasters are hedging about the extent and duration of the snow, unable to give precise boundaries because of the many micro-climates in Puget Sound. Only occasionally do we get a convergence of weather that brings snow everywhere.

Decorated boats are parading toward the marinas at the end of the lake, after an evening cruise. Inside it's a good night to read - I'm nearly to the end of a dense, fascinating history by David Levering Lewis called God's Crucible: Islam and the Making of Europe, 570 - 1215. For a tangentially related article, check out the December 4 entry on this blog - the one called "Nobody expected this!"

90 Degrees - but winter hasn't entirely gone away.

This week we skipped spring entirely, going straight to summer for a day or two. After a few cold, wet, gray days came a small heat wave, in which the temperature did indeed go to 90 on Saturday afternoon.


Meanwhile, as a reminder that winter is still not entirely over, the Seattle Times featured this picture, of the newly-refurbished Paradise Inn at Mt. Rainier, still surrounded by snow drifts.

Many mountain roads (some opened only a few weeks ago) are closed again because of avalanche danger from the rapidly melting snow. Down here at sea level, sunburn is everywhere.

Saturday night I was lucky enough to have a ticket for "L'Allegro, Il Penseroso and Il Moderato," Mark Morris' athletic, inventive, exciting 1982 ballet, performed at the Paramount Theater with musicians from the Seattle Symphony, the Seattle Symphony Chorale, and four splendid soloists. Fabulous experience - and I want a dress just like the simple but elegant costumes the women on stage were wearing. Dresses were cut to fit the upper body and swirl away into a flared skirt, and appeared to be made of double layers of chiffon, in colors that blended or contrasted, depending on the dress.

The Paramount, one of Seattle's few remaining grand early 20th century theaters, was the perfect venue for this performance. Several years ago an early Microsoft employee/investor, who retired with enough money to do anything she wanted, took on the restoration of this building. It's now the location of choice for touring musical theater and dance companies. From its ornate lobby to its high-ceilinged main theater and heavily-ornamented proscenium arch, it's a setting that adds immeasurably to every performance.