Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley
Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley
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These past few weeks have been heart-wrenching. The feelings of grief, sadness, anger, and hopelessness are all swirling within me as I watch this dreadful war unfold in Ukraine. My paternal grandfather moved to the United States as a child from a small town in Austria in the late 1800s. That town is now part of Ukraine. I feel connected to this war in a way that I hadn’t imagined. Hindsight being 20/20, I am now embarrassed by my last column. While the people in Ukraine hear the constant b...
I love music. My parents and many relatives had both musical talents, a great appreciation for music, and there was almost always music playing in our house. My father loved classical music and grew to love opera, influenced by my grandfather, who lived with us who loved both of those genres. My mother owned every Broadway musical album ever recorded and was a big fan of Frankie Lane. We were the first on our block to have a HiFi which was constantly played. The first “big” gifts I received as a...
The day before we left for Los Angeles, we enjoyed lunch with our friend Eric on our backyard deck. Eric declared, "I'm calling it, Spring is here." Right! Heard that before. While in LA, I received a text from one of my Waitsburg friends with a picture of crocus springing up in her yard. She also wanted me to know that Spring had arrived. I texted back, "Yeah, I remember last year when we had two feet of snow the last two weeks of February." I have a picture of a vase of my daffodils sitting...
While some people study great philosophers like Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato, my current frame of reference are more Broadway Musicals and popular songs. Lerner & Lowe’s clever lyrics, “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?” from their show My Fair Lady have been playing through my head daily. Just reversing the genders. The song laments that women are temperamental, flighty, vain, and generally self-centered spoiled creatures, unlike men who have none of those pesky traits. Well, wake up...
We have shortened the hours at the restaurant to dinner service only on Friday and Saturday nights. No more lunches, and no longer opening on Wednesdays and Thursdays. We have added Take & Bake, a much simpler undertaking. Theoretically, with the reduction in the hours, I should have much more free time. Where is it? I am working out more. It turns out that last year’s insomniac impulse purchase of the Mirror was a good decision. I am taking all sorts of classes, including Zumba, stretch, weight...
Cole Porter, known for his profound lyrics, was “en pointe” with this particular song relating to our recent reopening of the restaurant. I have familiarity with this song title from the Broadway show Kiss Me, Kate. The show, roughly based on Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, is also somewhat “en pointe” because, on a rough night in the kitchen, Daniel can be shrewish. Porter’s lyrics reverberated in my brain all evening during our recent reopening. The new reduced hours and reduced men...
I am finally mobile again since the weather has warmed up, enough rain fell, and my car is now out of its “stuck in the ice and snow” mode. It is no longer an ice sculpture but a dirty, mode of tranportation, all gassed up and ready to go! I am grateful I didn’t have COVID fever, just a mild case of Cabin Fever these past two weeks. It’s probably psychological because there was no place I needed or wanted to go. We had food, water (after the pipes defrosted), and every Netflix, Amazon Prime,...
This past week of rough weather has been an important lesson and slapped down my hubris. I recently discovered, or instead, learned the hard way, that over confidence was a huge mistake. It seems we’ve had a year’s worth of weather in the last week, with snow, a little warming sun, below zero temperatures, howling winds, followed by more snow falling right now. I was confident my new snow tires made my car impervious to snow; evidently, I was wrong because it is currently a snow-bound scu...
As I’ve frequently written, I am not a reflective person. However, I do appreciate traditions. Therefore, as I did columns for my first and second anniversaries in Waitsburg, I decided to make it tradition and do a third-anniversary column. First, I am still amazed that my original attempt at a column was published; that the column continues is still beyond me. Full disclosure, after reading my initial essay, my first English class professor immediately sent me to the remedial class. Q...
My life seems weird now that we have decided to slow down the operations at the restaurant. Our new focus on catering, take & bake, and working with some winemakers for special dinners is more fun and for sure, less stressful. Now I have time to go to the gym, but am I? Not as much as I should! The excuse is I’m still decompressing, although I’m not sure how long that will be a viable excuse. I’m finally reading again and recently finished two books and am on to a third. I’ve perfected downloa...
What are the odds that this Thanksgiving would be as good if not better than my first “Friendsgiving” in Waitsburg? My first pre-Covid-19 gathering was terrific. It was the group effort, no stress, no driving, good food, good friends’ day that is, in my opinion, a perfect way to spend the holiday. In movies the sequel is usually disappointing compared to the first, but not this Thanksgiving-it was the best, even with some of my Covid trepidation. This year some of “our gang” had out of town v...
When we were kids, and my mother had reached the end of her rope with our mess, complaining, whining, and general bad behavior, she would halt all activities, give us “the look,” and let us know in her stern voice, “there is a new regime, starting now!” Our rooms had to be cleaned, clothes put away, homework done, and only then could we go out to play with our friends. This new regime and stricter discipline period would usually only last a few weeks. Still, it probably provided my mother with a...
Although I am not a great tennis player, I love to play. It’s good exercise for someone competitive and social. I’ve told my coaches over the years,” What I lack in talent, I make up for in stamina.” And, of course, add to that good sportsmanship, a good sense of humor, and no delusions about my skill level. As proof of my diehard spirit, my friend and I were on the court at Waitsburg High School playing this Sunday in gale-force winds. The leaves and debris whirling around us were dizzying, but...
I apologize for my uncalled-for pity party indulgence last week. In retrospect, although I don’t live a charmed life, I do live a pretty good one here in Waitsburg. Moving here was a difficult decision for me, but like most things in my life, I act on impulse, don’t overthink anything, and try not to look back. I’m glad I made the move. I left my family, friends, nearly 12 months of sunshine, countless ethnic restaurants, and great sushi to take on the renovation of an ancient and decre...
I doubt the person credited with that expression didn’t have a good grip on reality. Recently, I have learned that the “small stuff” becomes “big stuff” when it happens in a condensed time frame. As things pile up, what should have been a “small thing” can become a major annoyance or worse. Yesterday, I felt like Peter Finch in the movie Network. I was on the brink of screaming out my window: “I can’t take it anymore!!” I am usually very even-tempered. Unlike Daniel and my sister, I can take...
When I was very young, I had two nicknames. The first, Miss Perpetual Motion. From the moment I woke up, I was on the go until I would fall sound asleep wherever I happened to run out of steam. I'd sleep anywhere, at the dinner table, on the floor reading, while playing a game. I was out! The second nickname was Miss Independent. My constant retort was: "I can (and will) do it myself!" Both my energy and fierce independence have been my stalwarts most of my life. But as I have recently learned,...
Although Daniel and I enjoy many of the same things, we also have major differences in our personalities and ideas. For example, before he even starts boiling water for his morning tea, he gets dressed. I, on the other hand, can hang out in my PJs for hours. In fact, I’ve become an expert at fitting “sweats” over my PJs when necessary. Daniel considers the back of our dining room chair to be his closet. He neatly stacks his clothes at night in the order he will need them in the morning. On th...
And the seasons all have their beginnings and endings. The season for driving through the Walla Walla Valley with my top down, the wind blowing in my face, is ending. According to my weather app, it looks like tomorrow will be the end of convertible weather, which coincides with my final push for tomatoes ripening on the vine. Sadly, I am watching my plants shrivel and wither away, as the days grow colder and shorter. I am glad that we at least did have a successful crop of cucumbers, peppers an...
My mother drilled certain behavioral lessons into our psyche, starting when we were very young. One that has stuck with me is, “Don’t blow your own horn!” No bragging, boasting, or puffing of the chest. Not only is it bad manners, but you may be setting yourself up for embarrassment or humiliation at some future point. Sorry Mom, but a little brag, I have good intuition and instincts about people. A trait I probably inherited from my mother. During my insurance career, I’ve hired several...
Recently, I connected with friends that I hadn’t had contact with for several years. Our “catch-up” conversation was not the usual, as we all have had significant life changes to share. Without any prompting, they acknowledged mine were more dramatic than theirs. When I told them of my move to Waitsburg, their first reaction was, “where?” I gave them the geographical high points and explained that I am not on the “wet” side of the Cascade mountains but in the country of wheat and wine. Next ca...
Early this week I had to make another trip to the Tri-Cities, this time to have my car serviced. Another great ride with my top down, music blaring, enjoying the perfect weather and empty highway. Of course, I made a quick Costco run as well. Evidently, the last time I was in Costco, I was either oblivious or disinterested because I didn’t register that they were already selling Halloween costumes. I should have noticed the candy. Yes, the seasons are changing quickly, and I’m almost glad to...
When I walk through town, I see flags of all sorts waving in the wind; they celebrate with "Small Town, Big Heart," support the Cougars, Seahawks, and of course, Old Glory. Recently, I noticed a flag holder on our front porch post and deliberated joining the flag fliers. Deciding what flag to fly became a small project. Should I fly the California flag, maybe the Italian or European Union flag for Daniel, or a Go Dodgers or Lakers banner. How about designing a Weinhard Café flag so we can...
I’m almost scared to write about my perfect Sunday (yesterday) for fear I will jinx any future Sundays, but I’m not superstitious, so here goes. Our plans for this weekend were to take off a few days and drive to Portland, sort of a Daniel apology and belated birthday trip for me. However, with the uptick in COVID-19 cases and increased mask mandates, we decided to reschedule for a safer time. But all was not lost! As a result of a catering job we did in Dayton, I recently met a lovely lady who...
Shakespeare wrote in his play The Twelfth Night, "If music be the food of love, play on!" Obviously, Shakespeare didn't have to listen to Daniel's playlist. I grew up in a houseful of music and musicians. My maternal grandfather and all his ten siblings were musicians, mostly violinists. Although the musical talent gene skipped my mother, she did appreciate and love music. My father also came from a musical family. Although he never took lessons, he could sit at a piano and plunk out tunes by...
Although I don't have a "charmed" life, I certainly have it easier than many people. I recognize that in the scheme of things, I have no right to complain. But, I admit, there are some days or weeks when frustrations accumulate, and I begin to feel sorry for myself, like today. The frustrations began when a few patrons at the restaurant graciously complimented me and told me they enjoyed reading my columns in The Times. I was flattered, then had a mini-anxiety attack thinking about what I will...
