Knockin’ on What?

So the Early Girls, in the pic, are abundant in our garden now, and today was Tomato Sauce day in the kitchen. I kept it pretty simple, olive oil, shallots, basil and tomatoes. Will be nice to freeze some and pull out a jar in midwinter and remember all that summer sun and warmth that grew these humble little fruits…or is it a vegetable?!

tomatoes 2017
Oh, and beans. Anyone want some beans?!

I book-ended my summer with Memorial Day & Labor Day weekends up in the Skagit. I love it up there, the farmland and the mountains and the little main street are really a perfect antidote to this city living, with jobs and day schedules and traffic. When I go up there, I just really turn it down, and it’s so needed.

On Saturday night I was walking the dog on the channel walkway. The walkway is parallel to Main Street. The water’s to your right and all the restaurants and bars are to your left and you can spy all the pretty people sitting under tiny string lights inside Nell Thorn, the best table in town.

Keep walking and you hear the clinking of bottles and glasses with the low chatter and laughter from the bars. My dog trots alongside me and his tags clink too. It’s the only sound we make.

Keep walking and you hear the clinking of bottles and glasses with the low chatter and laughter from the bars. My dog trots alongside me and his tags clink too. It’s the only sound we make.

I hear some live music up ahead and come upon one of the bar’s outdoor patios. All the tables are filled and seem a bit crowded together, especially with the expanse of water to my right. A guy with gray hair sits at a keyboard singing Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. Beside him stands a fiddler in a long flowered dress. Her bow takes long draws, points and dips during lyric breaks. The tempo’s slow, and you get the feeling this song’s been going a long time. The mood is a little somber. It’s the last weekend of summer.

Ahead on the walkway, a couple leans against a railing, embracing, and everyone is caught up in the song. My dog and I wheel around the couple and keep going. We get to the end of Main Street where the only thing to do is turn around. I think to myself, I bet when I walk back, the same song’s gonna be on.

So we come back upon the same scene, and yes indeed, the guy is still singing about knocking on that good door. I’m glad I’m just walkin’ the dog because everyone in the place seems hunched over, glued to the singer and contemplating their own profound downfall. Not yet. Not for me. Or my dog. So we just spring right on by.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door just isn’t the song to sum up my summer. If it was Dylan, it’d have to be Idiot Wind, an all-time essential song for me. If it was Neil, it’d have to be Long May You Run.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door just isn’t the song to sum up my summer. If it was Dylan, it’d have to be Idiot Wind, an all-time essential song for me. If it was Neil, it’d have to be Long May You Run.

So, turning the page from summer, I’m happy to report I completed the two applications I set out to, one for a writer’s residency at Hedgebrook (99% doubtful for almost everyone who applies) and one more local artists’ grant. We’ll see. I’m really psyched I’ve applied as I need the next step to spur me on, on my writing journey. And what’s the soundtrack for that?

That’s easy.

She was an American girl/Raised on promises.

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