these are some of the figurines on my best music box. made in germany and at least thirty three years old. great detail in these figures and the others atop the rotating platform. and marvelous timbre as the lullaby plays. i spent some time cleaning it up and reglueing angel wings and sheep ears in anticipation of passing the music box on to the girl and her baby.
at the risk of boring you here's one more picture of the morning glories on the trellis in the garden. why the heavenly blue flowers are now blooming as snow white is not only a shocking surprise its a mystery.
a big weekend of attic cleaning with lots of memories and many trips to the dump. among the finds - ancient wall art from the girl's nursery, a bridesmaids dress from a family wedding, boxes and boxes of toys and books, music boxes packed away for twenty-five years, and this lovely crewel artwork from the seventies, begun when eyesight was much better than it is at present. too bad i didnt finish it while i was still able.
early hours this morning were still and quiet as they have been for several days now. no rustling of leaves in the wind. no sounds of animals in the woods. no calling of birds not even crows which are often so vocal in late summer. slowly waking up early this saturday morning the only sound herad was the faint scritch scratching of some small creature trying to move inside as the air chills down.
this is sweet annie an annual artemesia. i harvested most of it and have it hanging in the house to dry. its scent is heavenly. when touched it will smell like summer all winter long.
a tiny pink shoe sitting on a fence post apparently lost by some youngling. it remains unclaimed still. how can someone not miss something thats part of a pair?
maples are just beginning to turn color as witnessed by this stand of trees at the edge of a calm and still pond nearby.
driving down the road tonight the occasional smell of woodsmoke drifted in through the window. cool day today between two cold nights. last night was chilly enough that i picked all the tomatoes and some of the remaining flowers. i brought in some plants. i put an extra quilt on the bed. and it was in fact a bit frosty this morning. chilly enough to turn on the heat.
an afternoon trip on back roads and up hills to the local orchard for the first time this year. early macs and an apple pie still warm from the oven. the proprieter suggests a walk through the orchard and up the hill to photograph this spectacular view. absolutely worth the trip and a lovely way to spend a sunday in september.
every summer i lose weight. every fall i gain it back. its work i always convince myself. its stress eating i decide. its my body adapting to the colder temperatures i think. in fact the culprit is right here. its indian corn. this confection marks the beginning of a long list of fall delights which ends with eggnog at christmas. no lectures please. perhaps posting this information will do for my snacking habits what the sidebar list of books has done for my reading .
six years ago it was passing this display of yellow edged leaves that made me turn around and go back to get my camera. only when i looked through the lens did i fully realize what a spectacular morning it was - bright bright blue sky, still cool air, brilliant sunshine. a glorious early fall morn. i quickly shot half a roll of film. grasses and insects with the macro. trees leaves fields and the river with the telephoto. good shots. yet some days later i again took the camera and purposefully exposed the film negating the photos forever. the memory of how perfect that morning had been was by then just too painful to recall.
found on a weed over the weekend this is a wooly bear caterpillar the larvae of some common moth. in new england theres a myth that you can predict the coming winters weather by the width of a wooly bears brown band. a wide stripe means it will be a mild winter and a narrow one signifies a harsh season. knowing that the just published farmers alamac forecasts above normal temperatures and precipitation im thinking maybe this caterpillar is not yet grown up enough to predict anything.
a double birthday celebration here this weekend but thats not the reason for two cakes. in the cake on the left the water was inadvertently omitted from the assembly rendering the resulting cake incredibly dense and dry. a quick trip to the grocery store for a second mix for the cake on the right which was too hastily removed from the hot pan so that some of it came out and some did not. hmmmm. which one to frost and decorate? its a real toss up as both cakes are equally pitiful.
a no maintainence dinner for the end of a very long very tiring work week. i dont know what ill do next week when i have to work five days instead of four.
apple trees at the home of a friend taken as evening approached. shes lately had marauding bears at her fruit trees. but even though a small group of us sat and visited on her porch until well after dark, even though we talked in quiet hushed tones and had long periods of silence as we unwound in the midst of the surrounding night noises, even though we were very still, we did not see a single bear.
lots of green tomatoes remain in the garden on leggy september vines. with cooler nights now who knows if they will ever ripen. the only variety still red are these little cherry tomatoes shown here sitting in the afternoon sun on the back windowsill.
the crabapple that s&s planted last fall to mark their wedding day has passed through three seasons and is again bearing fruit. looks like its going to make it after all.
i was going to go to work today. i really was. but who could work on such a glorious day? in church this morning we sang:
this is a magnificent vining plant with huge stunningly beautiful pink flowers. i spotted it climbing a wire support in the middle of a half whiskey barrel in front of a pizza shop in a cheesy strip mall. before next spring find out what it is. you need to grow it yourself.
native corn has no equal. its sweet kernels are worth the summer long wait. in mid july i start to watch for the roadside signs that signal the arrival of the local crop. in anticipation of its coming ive made and frozen chunks of dill butter to spread over steaming ears. when corn finally comes in i eat it every single night. one ear sometimes two. a family run farm stand nearby supplies most of our community and becomes a late summer place to chat with neighbors and friends as you stock up on tomatoes and pies and jams. but when i stopped there for tonights corn there were pumpkins decorating the hay bales and mums on the counters. a sure sign that corns remaining days are numbered.
a busy work week complete with photography withdrawl. some days i pass this field on my way to and from work. from a certain angle it looks like a haze of purple hovers just above ground at the edge of the woods. but try as i might i dont think ive captured the best angle.
this is not my photo. because early this morning while the earths shadow was busy eclipsing the full moon i was busy sleeping. i slept not because i was tired which i absolutely was. i slept not because i was disinterested which i definitely was not. i slept because i had no reason to get up. i slept because i thought the lunar eclipse was this coming thursday night. so i missed it. the next total lunar eclipse is 21 february 2008. please call me to be sure im awake.
there are no tunnels where i live. underpasses yes. tunnels no. so i got pretty excited to see this one coming - especially from such a distance. it made me wonder why it was there. why the road didnt go up and over the hill instead of through it. and why our serpentine roads back home that wind through much higher mountains dont have one single tunnel.
on a three hour road trip with the girl and her family the high point was sitting with the baby girl. in the backwards facing carseat she sat next to me watching out the window and looking around. when she started to fuss id stroke her hair and talk softly and shed nod her little head and her eyelids would flutter and shed go to sleep. a nice way to travel for a grammie.
a few weeks ago in my reading i happened upon a passage about a labyrinth. i thought labyrinth was synonymous with maze. but mazes confuse with choices of direction and paths while labyrinths are orderly - one path only to the center and back out. since medieval times labyrinths have been used as a medium for reflection, a place to unwind, to meditate, to pray. something about the structure of a labyrinth purports to calm the mind and ease the soul. since reading all this ive been thinking about labyrinths and wishing i could walk one just to try it. and now someone has read my thoughts. for this morning on my mailbox was this invitation to a labyrinth right here at a local church.
here there are distinct patterns in nature not only as things grow but also as they go dormant or die. in this area sumac has the first leaf to turn. a few chilly august nights and the edges go suddenly scarlet. always one of the earliest signs of the season to come.
two monarchs atop two purple coneflowers in someone elses garden. not a favorite shot - too many washed out purples on a background of red. but i liked that the insects are positioned so similarly. dont they look like theyre traveling in the same direction and just pulled over for a rest?
at the base of a long stem of black-eyed susans this teeny tiny little flower. not even big enough for a wee little vase.
no. the g is not for girl. its for gdiaper this newfangled environmentally friendly way to dress your baby. the diaper is inside the red pants that velcro shut - no surprise there. its the diaper itself thats unique. holding the soiled diaper over the toilet you rip the long sides of it down. out tumble the insides of the diaper - all that soft absorbent stuff. then it all miraculously dissolves into nothingness leaving only cloudy looking water in the bowl. during the flush the remaining outer liner of the diaper goes in too. so theres no diaper left at all. its gone. gee - what will they think of next?
driving down the hill early this morning a great blue heron in flight passes in the sky just in front of me. i curse the fact that even though its on the seat next to me i cant get to the camera fast enough for a photo. so i just watch. the angle of the legs, the pointedness of the beak, the gracefulness of the wings pumping the air. lovely. the bird passes out of sight as serenely as it entered. and then i hear a slow rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk on my hood, then my windshield, then my roof. as quietly as the heron passed through the air, i now pass through his descending poop. how serendipitous.
it takes most of the summer to grow tomatoes here. and just as they begin to ripen on the vine, some creature of the night has discovered them. this prized fruit dragged from the garden and left partially eaten in the field. i leave it in place hoping a returning visitor will continue his meal where he left off. others in varying shades of red i pick from the plants prematurely to ripen in the safety of a sunny kitchen windowsill.
rounding a bend on a bucolic back road i jumped when i caught sight of this tree. good grief! now i know how dorothy felt when she was skipping down the yellow brick road and all those trees started talking to her. faces belong on people and clocks and cliffs and cubes. but not on trees.
note this wee little sprout just this summer erupting from the trunk of an established maple on the hill out back. i wonder what it will grow up to be.
while her parents went off for a few hours to a matinee i stayed with the baby girl. my first babysitting job since 1972. we walked we talked we rocked and we did little dances. we read the same pop up book four times. i sang arlo guthrie and explained the basics of baseball. and the baby girl studied my face while she fed and fell asleep in my arms as i made a memory to hold deep within a grammies heart.
on my way to town this morning i glimpse with my peripheral vision a blur of gold by the side of the road. tansy i think. ill pick it on my way back. a bit later as i head for home i spot the towns mower trimming along the edge of the road. i beat it to the tansy spot and save it from sure ruin. and bring it home and plunk it in a little vase to enjoy.
this evening the heat and humidity of several days abruptly gave way to a cold front. the sky quickly darkened. wind whipped the trees. you could hear it coming, feel it in the air. grey clouds raced in from the west chased by the subtle pink of a cooler tomorrow. and the assurance of a good night for sleeping at last.
when i was a kid we had morning glories by our back door. i was fascinated with the heart shaped leaves and always thought the plant was magic the way the flowers unfurled with the sun and then closed up tightly later in the day. this summers plants climb an old ladder in a place where there is very little light. yet each morning i am greeted by bright blue trumpets scattered on the vine.
the blue gate and the blue fence at a blueberry establishment in northernmost new england. what these giant blueberries are fashioned from i do not know. but they circle the entire area with each gigantic berry linked to the next by chain. in contrast below is the real thing photographed at the point on a brilliantly clear beautiful maine morning.
buckets of fish for bait at the local lobster pound where we stopped to buy lobster for dinner. truly it was the best most tasty lobster weve ever had on our annual trips here. but then they tell me i make the same claim every summer.
through the woods through the fog and out to the point at low tide. wild blueberries and cranberries along the path and fresh scat from some animal that precedes me. at the paths end are mud flats and stoney outcroppings with sea lavender ready to bloom. and a sweet wild rose blooming fragrantly at the edge of the bank.
and were off to the outer reaches of new england to visit a friend who lives in a small fishing village. at the end of a very long ride is a lovely spot nestled in the woods by a salt water inlet. restful and calm with a porch and a hammock and blueberry pancakes and lobster. and the best part: wonderful company.
in midwinter i posted about the profusion of free cat figurines found in boxes of the tea i drink and bemoaned the fact that id never found the little rabbit one. so the other day a good friend found one in her tea box and gave it to me. and yesterday in an antique shop i found this display. tiger bear giraffe platypus and even a clown. all selling for $2.25 a piece. now notice anything missing? right! not one single cat!
