Form and Function

We are very fond of Blue Hubbard squash and were going to grow it in the vegetable garden this year but we ran late and it's not easy to procure the seed from any but secialty seed companies. So Bob bought this individual from a local farm stand and not only will we enjoy eating it for several meals, but he's drying the seed for planting next spring.
Thisone is ideal because it's a slightly smaller variety. A former neighbor gave us a specimen several years back that was so huge that it lasted for months. It rested on a pedestal in the living room as edible sculpture and then got sliced into four or five sizeable chunks that were then baked individually. Here's what last night's dinner consisted of:

Sort of resembles a vessel from an ancestral culture! Bob put a little local honey (from the same farm stand) in the cavity and roasted it for over an hour and a half. I just love the color throughout the whole process.

My studio is undergoing yet another upheaval! With the construction of the chimney to accomodate the woodstove, multiple things (including boxes and the infamous flatfile) had to be shifted again. I am still able to work in the midst of all this chaos; the importance is to keep the table free of flotsam and jetsum. Behind the chair is a new addition to my studio furniture- and a welcome one! It's a plug-ugly chest of drawers in which I can store all of my fabric remnants. Until today, they were crammed into several very inconvienient large cardboard boxes in the corner, stacked tree high. Once the dresser arrived, it took me all of an hour to unload the boxes and completely fill it.

Yes, there's a woodstove under all that bedlam. (And no, it's not hooked up yet so there is no danger of a fire from flammables being placed on top of it...)
I will collapse into a contented mound of productive artistry once the pieces are all in place and I know the permanent layout of the studio land. Bob and I really underestimated how hard it would be to move. We've done pretty well, but we do need to get our studio practices in gear. I don't know what the pilgrims or pioneers did about making art; all that moving around and physical hardship must have been hell on their concentration. (I jest). Wake me up when it's all over...

How Green Was My Pond Scum

This is a posting entirely dedicated to relief from all the grey of the chimney construction. That is not a swath of green lawn in the above photo. It's actually a pond in the field where my horse lives.That's the product of run off from concentrated horse byproducts... heavy on the nitrogen and urea! It looks solid enough to walk on.
I thought the perfection of those puffy billowing clouds in configuration with that eerie green looked almost artificial. I've wanted to photograph this pond for ages and kept forgetting my camera. I have never seen the water in this pond but I've witnessed ponies standing neck deep and the emerging coated with a brilliant green patina so I know there's liquid in there somewhere! Just hope my horse never gets the idea to go for a dip as he's white and would probably be eternally dyed green like one of those unfortunate easter chicks!
I still can't quite figure out what's going to happen with Crispin the horse...

How the Pyramids Were Won

So this is our sophisticated system for hoisting the 100 pound blocks skyward... just don't stand underneath it! It's worked like a charm. Personally, I can't wait for Joe and Bob to be done with this aerial phase of the proceedings... I think my stomach got wonky this afternoon, witnessing them working so high up. I'm not a fan of heights!
Here's a (slightly doctored) picture of Bob and Joe hard at work. See if you can tell what I moved from one picture to another.

(Well, I am a collage artist and I didn't muck around too much with reality!) Today while i was at work, the chimney finally crested the roofline... only one more session left and tehn we can light a fire. (I suspect it will coincide nicely with our aniversary date.)

Slow and Steady as She Goes!

(Actually, I should have labelled this posting "Steady as He Goes" as chimneys are (obviously) phallic and therefore more male than female in implication).

This was a pleasant way to spend Saturday morning. Bob scored the blocks that we were using to make the higher courses of the chimney and I malleted and chiselled off the extra ends. (I was, of course, wearing my fashionable new safety glasses!) We did quite a few of them and then it was decided that we'd use the bigger blocks after all. But it was fun while it lasted, and I got to take this picture which could show mason's tools from hundreds of years ago. One of those things that don't change...

Our friend Joe came by to assist Bob with the loftier altitudes to be attained by our chimney. (I'm not at my best on ladders and with my impaired vision, I think sitting astride a low bench is more my style anyway). I am happy to provide food and drink! So they managed to put several layers on. Look at this progress:

Later the same day:

See? The chimney had crested that plywood sheathing and is creeping skyward. I am editing and omitting the many trials and trevails that ensued to get to this point, including the fact that Bob removed a course of the re-sized blocks and has rethought our construction technique. It's all a learning experience (don't you simply detest that phrase?) and as our neighbor reminded me, "You only have to do it once!" (Thank heavens!)



Progress! And a Relentless Brush Pile...

Here is what you'll see at the side of our house. Bob concocted this stone face from a rock in our stream and (you guessed it!) a couple of quartz rocks. The quartz border continues it's way, winding around the house...

And I'm happy to report that Fred the Stone Mason came by today to help punch a hole in the wall to connect the wood stove through the famous thimble into the flue. The chimney is progressing quite nicely. And not a minute too soon: you can feel the chill in the air.

Strolling around the perimeter of our "back forty" (well, back 4.36 acres...) I can't help but being drawn up short by this sight:

Another project! To remove this crazy brushpile that has been residing at the end of the puppy pen/ flower garden since this spring. I suppose it has blocked a bit of the view of the "Thomas Kincaid House" next door, but it's hardly a lovely sight. On a cheerier note, at least a family of two of chipmunks has found a home in the pile. At least someone has found a use for our pile of sticks! 

Late Season Poignancy... or Laziness

The amberness of the afternoon sun got me to musing, while laying on the sun-warmed picnic table, about October light and the fleeting feeling that always visits me at the end of the gardening season. You want to quote Miss Peggy Lee and ponder, "Is that all there is?"
It also afforded me the guilty pleasure of avoiding doing anything at all. Believe me, laziness and the absence of activity and work is a rare novelty for Bob and I this year! Bob wasn't home so the two of us weren't egging each other on to acheive all those householed tasks that demand performance. Even posting a blog entry sometimes becomes work; hence the relative silence in my recent blog history...
But we have accomplished an awful lot at the house. I've earned the right to bask in this comfort as Jules runs full tilt after a wrecked basket ball.
Of course, an hour and a half later, I finished an art piece and weeded half the vegetable garden. But I needed that few minutes of nothing. Or realtive nothing, glancing over my shoulder for the apparent rabid raccoon that is terrorizing southern Southbury...
We are supposed to break through the house wall and install the wood stove "thimble" that attaches the stove to the flue tomorrow; a stone mason friend is coming to make sure we do it right the first time around. We have learned some really fun facts: like chimney bricks come in all sorts of sizes, but inexplicably, none of the fit together in any meaningful way. We thought we had become brilliant and instead of one giant block that weighs 100 pounds (not kidding!!) we decided to get smaller ones and assemble them to the same rectangular specifications. But it sort of can't be done and I guess Bob and I are glad that we're going to stucco the outside of the chimney in an attractive and- forgiving- manner next spring. Save it for the spring!
(The photo above is what happened when I tried to photograph autumn color. There isn't a whole lot of fall foliage spectacle this year so I settled for tiny animal foot prints down by our stream.)

Morning Glory- Finally!

Here it is: October 1st and we finally have blooms on the morning glories we planted on the vegetable garden fence. In the background are the remains of our tomato crop. The vines look terrible, all saggy, rotting leaves from cool nights, but a few slowly ripening fruits hanging on. How I miss tomatoes when they're gone!! On the other hand, I congratulate Bob and I on a successful garden despite a hectic year and a series of bizarre episodes... including my famous eye injury. We are eating delicious peppers and squash still; I think the basil is still alive although not so pretty.
And speaking of basil, we're awaiting that first frost that signals our anniversary! It's nice to have a floating holiday to celebrate but some years we get antsy and celebrate six or seven times...

Filling the Pit

Here's Bob standing in the hole that we had to dig for that footing. It was fully four feet deep this morning.  Filling it in was an odd exercise: sort of the punchline to a perverse joke as it feels like we just dug it all out. We debated filling the hole in exactly the way that the rocks and sand were originally striated... sort of environmentally sensitive, returning the earth to it's proper layers.
But of course we didn't do that. We just shovelled it all back in, willy-nilly. The piles we had lived with for a week or so vanished.

That's what it looked like at the end of the day, letting it set up overnight. Tomorrow we stack another few courses on. (Bear in mind that each of these blocks weighs 100 pounds.) Mixing the cement and mortar was fun; Bob and I agree it smells good. I also remember helping my mother build front steps at our house in Durham; the smell brought that back to me. (Plus the fun fact that we lived without real steps for years...) We're tired but satisfied that we've accomplished this much. I can help Bob until we get about chest high. Then a bigger, stronger friend is arriving- with scaffolding!- to help ascend to the roofline fifteen feet heavenwards. Thank goodness for crazy friends that don't mind hard work.
Here's another shot, down into the block which we filled with rocks and concrete.

It's a bit grey and beige, isn't it?