It's been a long — and short — summer

Found in a box of photos.

Obviously, I've been away. We left Seattle June 30 and headed east to Madison, Wis. to clean out our beloved house in preparation for selling it. We had been renting it out the past five years while we adjusted to life in Seattle, but after a particularly gnarly and stressful winter, We decided we just couldn't do it anymore. Our tenants left the house unattended for two weeks during the polar vortex, and the day they left the house, the heat went off causing all the radiators and pipes to freeze and crack. (The house was heated by fuel oil, and a delivery was made the day the tenants left. Three weeks later when the oil company returned to deliver another load, the tank was still full.) We don't know if they turned the heat too low, accidentally turned it off, or what, but by the time they returned two weeks later, the house was a disaster requiring $72,000 in repairs.

To make the situation even more disheartening, the tenants not only took no responsibility, they demanded to be paid for time and effort spent mopping up water after the radiators began to warm up. We didn't blame the tenants for the destruction, and our insurance paid for most of the repairs (though not the two trips Ken made to the house), but we were harassed and sent degrading emails during the three-month restoration ordeal. They called us bullies and dishonest, and if anything describes us as landlords, it's not that. (They must have forgotten that we let them pay $200 less per month for two years, and no rent at all for a month last summer while they went to their family lake house up North. Duh.) We chose to have a new gas-fired high-efficiency heating system installed at our expense even though the heating company could find nothing wrong with the existing boiler. When the house was ready for occupancy in mid-April, we told the tenants they could live free for two weeks and begin paying again on May 1, but for various trumped-up reasons, they felt the $700+ they would not have to pay was inadequate compensation for the three days of mopping floors. There is much more to the story, of course, but that's all I can stand to retell.

The house sold without going on the market, and at first that seemed great, but the buyers have been very demanding, and the drama continues. On Aug. 25, we close on the house, and it will no longer be ours — for better or worse. It was a wrenching experience clearing our lives from the house and parting with so much "stuff," but it had to be done. We had an estate sale run by a church, and their share of the profits went to supporting homeless shelters and food banks, so I feel happy about that, but it sure was hard to say goodbye to so many things connected with my life.

We used the large basket on the right for storing out-of-season clothes.

We sold nearly all of the furniture and household items, including loads of baskets and other collections from around the world. I think there are now African baskets decorating the homes of many of my former neighbors. As I looked at each piece of furniture, I could remember where I had gotten it and who I was with when I'd found it. Lots of the pieces were antiques found at auctions and estate sales long ago, objects gathered from world travels, or pieces connected to late family members, and all were attached to fond memories.

We happened upon a jazz concert on a street corner near our house.

Letting go of 'things' was hard enough, but letting go of Madison was also hard. Madison is such a great place to live — in spite of the 'complicated' weather and prevalence of summer mosquitoes. I love it there, and will miss the city and the many, many wonderful people I've come to know and love.

Callie came with us on the trip, and I think she got a little tired of the incessant sorting and packing. I'm pretty sure she wasn't as emotional when we finally hit the road as we were.

We didn't do much cooking while we were working on the house. Wait, what am I saying — we didn't do ANY cooking. We usually ate fruit for breakfast and a big salad for either lunch or dinner, depending on which meal we ate outside the house. We bought bags of arugula, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes and toasted sunflower seeds from Trader Joe's and heaped those items into our large enamel camping bowls at least once a day. The best meals were provided by friends, but we also ate in a number of vegan-friendly restaurants. Although I always asked for gluten-free food, I had stomach pains on many occasions following dinner. One place I never felt sick was Maharaja Indian restaurant, and we enjoyed many meals there.

Sweet potato hash with tofu scramble, fresh fruit and a side of broccoli (instead of toast).

Another restaurant where we ate a couple of times was Monty's Blue Plate — a comfort food style restaurant with vegan and gluten-free menu options clearly marked on the menu. I love when restaurants identify which items are vegan and gf. The food tastes really good at Monty's, but sometimes my husband and I both feel stomach distress after eating there. Their tofu scramble is pretty great, though. Oh well.

Much to my surprise, we've come to depend on Chipotlé while traveling. Believe it or not, I'd never tasted Chipotlé food before, but it was really handy to be able to have a sofrito salad bowl when everything else seemed too heavy, or making our own dinner seemed too hard. I like the ease with which I can customize my order, and I've never felt sick after eating the food. One order of salad was enough for two meals for me.

My friend and neighbor, Claudia, overcame her fear of feeding vegans and prepared an amazing, elegant supper of quinoa pilaf, roasted veggies and salad. It was delicious.

Eating at friends' houses was the best, and we're grateful for folks like Betsy, and Gary and Lanette for inviting us to share delicious meals with them.

A hiking trail at Gov. Dodge State Park.

In addition to seeing friends, we took time out from our work schedule to visit beautiful places — my friend Mari introduced me to a natural area just outside the city where I'd never been before. And we hiked at Gov. Dodge State Park. We were pretty surprised to find that about half the trails, including our favorite, were closed because of tornado damage in June.

Along The Lakeshore Path.

We walked out to Picnic Point and in the Lakeshore Nature Preserve, as well as Allen Centennial Gardens, Olbrich Gardens and other points of beauty and respite.

It seemed like we were in Madison for a really long time — until the day we left when it suddenly seemed very short. Now that we're back in Seattle, it's hard to believe the summer is almost over.

Have you ever been in a position of having to downsize your stuff? Are you a saver or a cleaner?

I'll share more about our summer over the next couple of posts, including a getaway to Cape Cod that includes a look at the greatest wedding food surprise ever!

Not my usual food post

The sun setting at Tenney Park (Susan's memorial).

Looks like I've been on a bit of a blog break, doesn't it? I didn't plan it, exactly, but timing and circumstances have a way of shaping life differently from what we might have planned. I meet monthly with a group of women to discuss various topics of interest to us, and last month our discussion was about the best and worst things about growing older. This is a discussion that could take place at just about any age, when you think about it — leaving the elementary school years and entering high school, graduating from college, entering the twenties and thirties and seeing many of your friends get married and have babies, turning 40, 50, etc., etc. For my discussion group, approaching the older end of the age spectrum, we all agreed that one of the worst things about getting older was losing family and friends. The month of April was a particularly tough one for me because in one five-day period I lost two friends — one a good friend with whom I was still close, and the other an old friend who I haven't been in close, recent contact with, but with whom I shared a mutual friend, and loads of memories. Both women died very soon after being diagnosed with cancer — so soon, in fact, that I barely had time to process what was happening.

My friend Susan and I had known each other for at least 30 years, and we both left Madison at the same time — she got married and moved to Cleveland, and I moved to the West Coast. After we left, we both planned our summer visits to Madison to overlap, so we could spend time together. Last summer we went to the Art Fair On the Square, as we often had done in the past. We'd also usually try to fit in a contra dance, if there was time. Now there is no more time, and I still can't believe she's gone. She was a soft-spoken and gentle women with a far reach. She was a childbirth educator, storyteller, environmental educator, author of two oral history books, prisoner advocate, and fearless and trusting human being. The fact that three memorials in three different cities are being held in her honor says more than I can write about here.

When I learned that memorials were being held the same week in Madison for both friends, I knew I had to go. I believed that sharing my grief with others would help me cope with the loss, but now I realize that only time will do that. I miss you so much, Susan and Carole. The trip was physically as well as emotionally difficult. We caught a 12:30 a.m. flight on Wednesday, arrived in Minneapolis at 3:30 a.m. and were in Madison at 8:30 a.m. We went straight to the co-op to buy food for the memorial/potluck being held later that evening, stopped into St. Vinnie's to grab a couple of serving utensils, then checked into our hotel for a few hours sleep, before heading to the memorial at 5 p.m. It was a beautiful memorial with stories and music, and though the reason for the gathering was heartbreaking, it was a comfort to be surrounded by so many mutual friends and acquaintances.

Pink Poodle bounty.

My heart was heavy and my pace much slower than it usually is when I'm in Madison, but we tried to balance the sadness with lighter moments getting together with friends, and visiting favorite, familiar places. On Thursday morning we strolled through the always outrageous Pink Poodle consignment shop. The Pink Poodle is the craziest resale shop on earth — so big you can get lost, and so over-the-top that there's no place to look to rest your eyes. I don't know why I like it so much, but I do love it. I usually find something I can't live without, even though I always complain that it's over-priced. I can't help it. I found a lightweight cotton cardigan with a brown animal print. you want it, too, don't you? After my thrift shop-induced hallucinations, I spent a lazy afternoon with my old next-door-neighbor and-partner-in-crime. We went to the tea shop for lunch, then wandered among the neighborhood shops. Thursday night my husband and I met a group of old friends for dinner.

On Friday morning we visited Olbrich Botanical Gardens to wander the beautiful and tranquil grounds, and view the Thai friendship pavilion. We also toured the indoor tropical observatory which we were delighted to find still charged only $2 for admission. After our peaceful garden break, we joined old friends for lunch at The Green Owl, Madison's only all-vegetarian restaurant. I didn't bring a camera on the trip, and wasn't feeling like photographing anything, so you'll just have to imagine my wonderful cajun blackened tofu sandwich. After lunch I paid a visit to a friend who didn't know I was in town, and I'm so glad I did. It was wonderful to see her. On Friday night we had a delicious dinner with good friends at an Indian restaurant. I love when restaurants clearly mark the vegan dishes on their menu, don't you?

On Saturday morning we headed downtown to the farmers market. It was a little later in the morning than we wanted to leave, but we were hoping that the late start to the growing season would mean smaller crowds — we were wrong. The market is held on "the square" — the sidewalks that comprise the four sides of the capitol area — and it's big and wonderful, filled with food, plants, people, musicians, etc. The lawns around the capitol were green, and lush with flowers and cavorting children — quintessential Madison. Truthfully, I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the crowds, and we only made it around two sides before heading to a children's shop on the square, owned by an old friend, so we could say hello. We also walked down State St., the main shopping drag that connects the downtown with the UW campus. We stopped into The Soap Opera and I purchased a chocolate bunny soap to bring back to Miss E.

We headed back to the hotel to lunch on leftovers, and pretty soon it was time to drive back to the co-op to purchase food for Saturday's memorial, and head out to the country to Carole's simple but beautiful, rustic home. Carole was a registered nurse in her working life, but when I think of her, I think of a woman deeply connected to the earth. She loved her 20 acres — she nurtured her gardens like they were her children. Carole shared her life with horses and dogs, and they were there along with her friends and family. I connected with people I hadn't seen in a long time as we shared memories and sadness. After the potluck, we were all gathering on the lawn to start sharing stories, when rain started to sprinkle on us. It wasn't much — just enough to form a large rainbow in the sky as if Carole were saying, "hello."

Mothers Day dinner by Aaron and Kate.

We caught a 7 a.m. flight back to Seattle on Mothers Day, and arrived at the airport at 10:30 a.m. It's two hours earlier here than in Madison, and the lack of sleep, time zone changes, stress, sadness and what have you, left me in a daze. Reading and writing blogs was not gonna happen. We had a lovely Mothers' Day dinner (polenta, roasted cauliflower and mushrooms, white beans, and arugula salad) at our son's and his gf's house, before heading home and collapsing into bed, exhausted.