An Xmas Post

Xmas was celebrated today (December 28th) with my family. Things got off to a rocky start as the reports of ultra cold weather to come threatened to derail our festivities. After the inevitable testy phone calls, emails and smoke billowing from both of my ears, rapprochement was achieved and- cold weather be damned!- Christmas happened.
I think this year was more heavily laden with emotional and familial baggage because it is the first one since Mommy's death. Holidays are always fraught events; this is nothing if not the perennial cliche. My family certainly comes up with it's own exotic expressions of stress, sisterly hierarchies, issues of control etc etc. You get the picture.
I guess I'm lucky in that differences of opinion and questions of rationality versus emotionalism appear insurmountable and yet (mostly) seem to be overcome once we're in each others company. Then we have a good time. I suppose food and wine solve many squabbles...
We cleaned, we cooked, my family arrived. Indeed, they were brave and doughty souls to bundle up in parkas and boots and scarves and gloves and confront the arctic chill. I applaud their heartiness as it is Siberian out there, what with single digit temperatures and bracing wind chill. But our house was warm and the tree was lit up, well... like a Christmas tree.
The food was stellar. We ate so much that Bob and I skipped dinner altogether and I woke up after midnight full of energy and rarin' to go. (Go where you might ask, as it is 1:30 and something like 3 degrees outside? I know this last bit in reality as Lil' Robin the Good just decided that she needed to relieve herself. It really is cold!) Highlights of food included guacamole, spinach artichoke dip, roast pork, sweet potato casserole, cranberry relish (I could eat the whole bowl myself!),squash, brownies, peach pie, several bottles of wine.... and slightly musty tasting green beans.
The green beans sparked a new tradition. They were passed around, tossed, balanced, fondled and generally employed as entertainment. Worthy of the Schmenge Christmas! (Google that on YouTube if the reference escapes you.)
All in all, it was a nice day. We don't exchange Xmas presents anymore- thank god!- so at least that source of stress is eliminated. (Although Bob and I did give my brother in law John his birthday gifts, distinguished this year with a black and red motif.) Lots of food, bright sunlight (despite cold), a tree harvested from the side of our driveway, politics with everyone on the same side of the aisle; it was a good time.

A Dead Squirrel for the Holidays

Happy Holidays! And no, that's not a dead squirrel; that's Burned Santa. Remember him? As a real innovation, Bob added lights to Burned Santa's interior... you could even say he glows.

Here's the other side. Bob was trying to keep up with the honored tradition of putting lights our for Xmas. I like the effect: sort of Xmas in Hell.
Anyway, I went to get wood for my studio wood stove the other day and as I  picked up a couple of logs, I saw this fluffy grey thing. At first I thought Bob had left a glove on the wood pile. But it was a squirrel and it was most emphatically dead.

After assessing that it wasn't "playing opossum", I took this picture, wondered idly how it died- old age? log fell on it? scared to death by Robin chasing it? who knows. But it didn't have any obvious evidence of foul play, like blood or bite marks on it. I told Bob and he disposed of it as I was rushing off to work or something and forgot to get rid of it.
But it gets weirder as the next day, I was walking by Maggie's barn and I saw this:

Another dead squirrel! Now we had a mystery on our hands! At first I suspected it was the same squirrel and an animal had found the first squirrel carcass and carried to to the barn but on closer examination, it was clearly another corpse, as it's tail was bushier and it's position was different. It was kind of creepy because how often do you find dead animals just sort of laying around? Was there a rash of squirrels suddenly falling out of trees, an outbreak of squirrel plague or do we have a group of elderly squirrels ready to depart this mortal coil all at once? I guess we'll never know what killed them but it was definitely strange to see two dead ones within two days.
Let me know if anyone spots further squirrel die off and I'll post something more Christmas-y like our tree later this week.

Cheatin' on Maggie

It's true! I have been cheating on Maggie with a horse named Missy, pictured above. Missy belongs to my friend Gloria who spends the winter in Florida. She was kind enough to ask me if I'd like to ride her horse for her while she whiles away her days on the beach, getting warm and sandy. (We're freezing here!)
I think Missy- seen below in her entirety- misses Gloria, but she's been a good ride for me so far. She seems to be pretty level headed and not spooky or flighty. And she really looks the part of what she is- a Quarter Horse. Very different from my poor Mexican Pony Maggie who is still out of commission because of reoccurring abscesses in her hind foot. Maggie is altogether smaller, both width wise and height wise.

 A comparison:

Maggie is a good hand (four inches) shorter and probably two hundred (or more!) pounds lighter. Even their heads are different: Missy has the wide forehead and big jaw of a Quarter Horse. Maggie has a much longer, narrower head, but your guess is as good as mine as to what Maggie is... maybe part Mustang? Maggie is/was a pretty comfortable horse and it's too bad she's been lame.
I have been fortunate to be riding with Sabina, the woman who actually owns the farm. She has been riding a horse named Hannah, that she bred and raised. Hannah's great; about two years ago, I did some lessons at this farm and Hannah was the horse I was partnered with. She's got a great attitude but a really big, roiling canter- much bouncier at the trot!- than Missy or Maggie. (We didn't ride this past week, though as it snowed and was something like 12 degrees).
And here's what Missy thinks of me; she leaves a big pile every time we ride.

I think I posted this particular subject to avoid what is really on my mind. The winter (which doesn't even begin until this Thursday!!!!!) is already taking it's toll on me. It's dark and cold and the days are short and contrary to whatever it's doing in Florida, it's snowy here. We had such a protracted fall that winter hit suddenly and I sure wans't ready for it! I'm also in avoidance about the holidays. I did make Xmas cookies (one of my two requirements for "celebrating" the season) and we are considering a tree. Maybe that'll get me going, and the fact that it's supposed to be in the forties on Wednesday when we ride... thank goodness for that!

The Orange Menace Affliction

 (Above: (Fucking) Moron. This is a new piece channeling my "inner Rex Tillerson". Didn't know I had one, right? Well this is one thing I agree with him on...)
I have effectively diagnosed myself with Trump Anxiety Disorder. Having read several news articles (not fake!) describing exactly what I've been experiencing, I am a text book case. I just wish there was an easy cure.
I sleep badly. And then I wake up hoping the power is on- somehow this is my signal that a nuclear bomb hasn't been dropped on us over night. I figure if the electrical grid is functioning, we're still okay. I guess I should be glad for small things. Or maybe that's a big thing!
I can't stop reading/listening to the news. I wish I could control that impulse, too. Bob and I are news junkies at present: updating the progress of the Mueller investigation, scrolling to react to whatever insane tweet has burped forth from the White House.
I know we're not alone: every late night talk show is obsessed with the actions of him. Although at least we laugh when his actions are parsed and parodied! If we didn't laugh, we be screaming. Maybe that is the more appropriate response.
When will it end? But then I contemplate "president Pence". Not much better- a homophobic, women mistrusting religious zealot who is every bit as crazy and dangerous, just in a different way. Women would probably have to wear burkas if he ascends to the throne in case of impeachment or resignation. And if Pence is dragged down along with The Orange Menace, would we survive "president Ryan"? Oh please! He's the architect behind the rethuglicans cruel tax overhaul! Isn't there enough income disparity without Ryan soon claiming that because of huge deficits (because of those charming millionaire increasing tax cuts) there must be cuts to "entitlements" like Medicare and Social Security... Don't get me started!
And tonight is the much anticipated Alabama showdown between Roy Moore and Doug Jones. What has the rethuglican party come to that they would seriously consider a man who stalks under age girls at shopping malls and is a pedophile pervert because "at least he isn't a Democrat?" Is that really the choice? Bob and I have obtained pizza and wine and are planning on celebrating the weirdness of our times. Looks like it's gonna be a long night...

What's That Smell Like Meat, Oh Baby?

Scent is a very personal matter. What smells just great to one individual can be less than appealing to another. This is most often proven while standing behind an overly cologne saturated individual in a supermarket checkout line (or any instance where escape is impossible). I feel the urge to gag, but you know the wearer of the offending scent is sure they're attracting all the bees.

I bring this up because the flower here illustrated is a good case in point. I was taking Robin out the other evening, and I was assailed by the odor of rotting meat... a sweet, cloying definitely meat-like smell. I suspected a dead mouse in the wall until I realized I was smelling the Brugmansia!

Once I identified the smell as emanating from the flower, it was reassigned to the section of my brain that registers "things that are supposed to smell good", and I guess it does if you like decaying meat. The better to attract pollinators like bats and flies! (It's a smell reminiscent of jasmine, which I'm also not drawn to; I prefer clean, "high note" florals like phlox. I love the smell of phlox!: like clean laundry and sunshine).
This particular flower is trying hard to establish itself in my good graces. It was a generous gift from our good friend John Trainor- even though I warned him that I have no luck with Daturas and Brugmansias. And true to form, this plant struggled all season, not growing much in the direction of verticality and seeming to strain to produce a few new leaves. (And as soon as a new one appeared, an older one fell off; sort of a zero sum leaf gain). By the end of the summer, it was (embarrassingly) barely larger than it had been when presented to me and I decided to compost it. But on it's way to the compost pile, it revealed that it was producing a flower bud.

So I brought it inside and it bloomed! And then it produced a second out-size bloom, as documented here. It's obviously enjoyed the move indoors and as it's December and there's nothing else blooming, it's gotten a reprieve. And it does emit that weird smell...

Dog Dreams

Robin does sleep in elaborate and seemingly uncomfortable contorted poses, wedging herself in a space next to my side of the bed and flinging her legs akimbo. She often has one leg thrown across her face in dramatic fashion... quite the diva! And this little diva has a Urinary Tract Infection!

I thought she was suffering from blocked anal glands when I took her to the vet last Wednesday. She had been dragging her butt on the floor and had rubbed a good deal of hair off her tail (which I didn't really notice until I looked an older picture of her and noticed her tail lookd skinny). They "expressed" them (half full) in a professional manner- oh! Yes! I watched several dazzling Youtube videos on the correct fashion in which to empty dog anal glands but found it not at all easy to locate "two grape sized glands at five and seven o'clock; lift and squeeze". Needless to say, Lil' Robin the Good was deeply disturbed by all of the attention to her back side and spent the next several days with her tail clamped tightly down and spinning if I approached her from the rear, as if to say , "Oh no you don't!"
I was less than impressed with the "new vet" who was on duty that Wednesday that we visited the office. I sometimes think that there's a conspiracy to make vets more like people doctors: they're now very quick to recommend expensive tests and lab work and x-rays. The vet I had been going to for years was much more common sense and was really a nice guy. His son has inherited the practice and is very "yuppie" in his up-selling approach. I suppose they did (expensively) redesign the waiting rooms and exam offices and have to pay for all that antique woodwork somehow! Like when Robin was taking a course of antibiotics for a tick-borne disease this spring. Vet Junior proscribed a "pro-biotic" for Robin... sort of like when I take acidophilus while on Doxycycline to keep my gut moving. I went along with it and then was flabbergasted to see Robin's pro-biotics were waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more costly than the antibiotics and possibly irrelevant. I had actually asked Vet Senior this same question years ago when Frank the Dog was under treatment for Lyme disease. He scoffed and said, "Look your dog is probably picking up all kinds of bacteria from eating animal poop and the like. His gut bacteria is just fine." Doctor knows best.

(There's Robin now, wondering what all the fuss is about. And enjoying the mess that she has helped to create. Way to go Robin!)
Many friends have reported similar experiences with their vets: a rush to tests and much more aggressive interventions, without better results. Friends have dogs on chemotherapy and long term diabetes treatment. It's pretty appalling that our four legged friends are suffering the same debilitating chronic conditions that we do! (Bad diet, awful breeding of "purebreds" with congenital disorders, stupid ill advised medical procedures like spaying and neutering... don't get me started! Much of this is avoidable). And I know several friends who have sprung for very expensive pet health care plans. I read the fine points of a few of these plans and was less than impressed with what was covered for the cost; many of the larger bills are not covered.
So Robin seems fine; ironically her urine test came back negative.... but she's also not waking me up at 2:00 am to go out and pee so maybe she had a very low-grade infection. I've had the same! Symptoms but a negative test. And Robin looks great- very shiny and in good weight and she has more energy than the average dog (although she is far from average!!) so I'm certain her prognosis is good. Long live Robin the Good!

Cleaning Out Mommy's House

Many of us have been faced with the emotionally and physically taxing task of emptying a deceased parent's house. My sisters, Cathy and Beatrice, and I are doing this now.
It makes me feel all sorts of uncomfortable things, all at once. I get impatient: I just want it to be done! Over! I want to spend my time in something other than a mouse poop infested house that isn't mine. I know my sisters share this emotion, although perhaps they express it differently. Cathy seems capable of seeing our house cleaning activities as a way to spend time together. That's a nice thought but I'd rather we had gathered for dinner or a trip to a museum or something else entirely.
And then there's the mixed feelings of picking up a chipped coffee cup and thinking, "Wow, Mommy drank out of this every day but who wants it?" On the one hand, it's just an old cup. And on the other hand (yes, Cathy! There are five fingers... a family in-joke of sorts, referencing our other deceased parent. Hello Daddy!) and on the other hand, it was a cup that Mommy used all the time. It now takes on that eerie personal history that infiltrates frequently used items. A tough thing to do- throw away bits of some one else's life!
But you can't keep all of it: Beatrice thinks every box we open, full of chewed newspaper and yes! more mouse poop!-will hold a treasure of sorts: that antique Barbie doll in an original box, her Foxy hand puppet (Stieff) or a simple million dollars. No such luck!
What we turn up is weird bits and pieces. Maybe this old coffee pot is worth something? What do we with a few matching plates that have no cups? Do we really want to dispose of those old dolls, even though they have been desecrated by play? It all takes time and an untold toll on your psyche to paw through it.
We know all the good stuff left a long time ago. There wasn't much but the jewelry was probably shoved into the pockets of underpaid substitute personal assistants and the few other things- a mirror? a set of cushions? also mysteriously vanished.
So there truly is not much left of a life. A pile of furniture that didn't look quite so worn out when you were seated around a Thanksgiving or birthday celebration, a couple of paintings that Mommy did (which I seem to be babysitting) and a trunk full of old photos that no one wants, but no one wants to throw out. The very fact that some one else (your Mother!) made the decision to keep these items, only to have us toss them away is sad.
I get bitchy and angry and depressed. I am exhausted by so much debating the relative merit of that old blanket or that pile of old school work. And then there's more mouse poop...
I just want this to episode to be over with!

Stairway to Heaven

After that last posting, I was ready for a change of pace and attitude! So here's a project with a positive outcome: a brand new stone and mosaic step for my studio. And yes, those are my feet at the bottom of the picture.
Bob had said for quite a while that he had stones picked out with which to construct an official step for my studio. I have been making due with a simple wooden step that was functional but not especially pretty. And instead of one large stone that would have been hard to move up from the stream area and put into place, Bob suggested three large stones with cement and mosaic in between. A great idea!
Bob did his usual magic leveling and arranging the stones and then he helped mix up the cement. I had the fun part of selecting the plates from our vast collection of smashable crockery (cheerfully provided by my place of employment as many dishes come in already cracked, chipped or otherwise defective). I first toyed with the idea of using a slew of green plates, then red plates and finally circled around to choosing blue plates as it references the blue walkway we made through the Blue Garden. It was the right choice as the perfect plates volunteered themselves and I happily bashed away.
It was fun playing with mosaic again; we hadn't done that since the walkway project. I know that making the terrace behind the house was a big inspiration to making the step. And what an important step it is! It leads into (and out of) my studio. There is that inevitable metaphor of crossing a threshold from one reality to another.
Here's a slightly further back view:

Isn't that nice the way the stones and the tile integrate? Plus it's so much larger that Robin and I have a bigger landing pad when we depart on our morning walk. (I don't remember exactly why we always exit through my studio, but we do... ). Bob correctly decided that the shape and color of the mosaic looked like an eye. I showed him a preliminary sketch I did- of an eyeball! I had wanted that as a sort of subtle suggestion, nothing really literal or obvious. Just a suggestion of the internal seeing that goes on when in the studio...

Where Do I Begin?

I have been mulling over three utterly different subjects for this post. I could either describe our recent trip to Vermont (fun), the lovely stone and mosaic step that Bob and I constructed outside my studio (useful), or the scary meeting Bob and I attended about passing an ordinance prohibiting the carrying of gun in public places in our town (weird). As you can see (sort of) from the above picture, I chose to write about an "interesting" (in all the worst ways!) experience...
I had received- and not paid too much attention to- emails about a Southbury town meeting that was so well attended and so large, that it had to be postponed and moved to the high school auditorium. It was a meeting about an attempt to pass an ordinance that would prohibit the carrying of guns on public property. I also received a phone call from a woman on the Democratic Town Committee who explained what was involved. Bob and I decided to attend.
As you can see from the above picture (which is a re-photo of a shot posted on a news website) there was quite a crowd. We, the gun safety proponents, were on one side of the main doorway and they, the gun advocates, were on the other. We sized each other up.

Bob was initially hesitant to actually go into the auditorium (as were other people that we talked to outside) but I was pretty adamant that we were here, we should hear what people were presenting as arguments. It was packed and lines formed for attendees to testify. We had been handed signs that announced we were residents of Southbury, and this mattered as many of the gun supporters had been urged to attend even if they lived in other towns. I had checked the CCDL website and learned that they were actively encouraging members to attend and "wear CCDL swag". I think the majority of the pro-gun people were out-of-towners as I didn't recognize many of them...
There was an introduction by the resident state trooper about what is in the actual existing gun laws. There is apparently a bit of room for interpretation in the carrying in public places rule that is already on the books; a murky "need for a special license". 
Residents from our town and surrounding towns then addressed the Board of Selectmen. Many spoke movingly about being from Sandy Hook (the next town over from us) and how crazy it is to allow- or promote! the idea that we're safer if we're all "packing". I was entirely in agreement with the woman who said simply, "I don't want to think about the person next to me at the library carrying a gun. Or the person next to me while I'm licensing my dog or paying my taxes..." But it was disheartening to hear the people who gave their ideas about the 2nd amendment and how it was their right to bear arms. It was terrifying and I seriously began to wonder what I was thinking, encouraging Bob and myself in coming into this auditorium to be surrounded by so many gun totin' whack jobs! I felt my eyes opening wider and wider and I started breathing so that I thought I'd hyperventilate; it was not a good place to be. PTSD, anyone?
Ultimately, we stayed through about a third of the speakers and then left. We had had enough. Honestly? The police on duty (and there were more present then I've ever seen before in town (except at the local pizza joint) looked a bit uneasy, too.

But we got tee shirts and placards and buttons and I plan on wearing my tee shirt to work. I have requested that the auction house be declared "a gun free zone" as I know that several of my co-workers think very differently from me about their right to bear arms.
And this meeting took place after Las Vegas but before the (most recent mass) shooting at the church in Texas! And don't forget the shooting at a Walmart in Colorado, in which it was described that the gun man "nonchalantly" opened fire on people shopping!* Good grief! where does this end? Cynically, I still fear that if the death of 26 children and their educators didn't provoke a change in the gun laws, then what will? And how did we all wind up in a replay of The Wild Wild West?

*Interestingly, the argument was raised that if everyone has a gun and starts shooting at the person who initially started shooting, when the police arrive, how on earth are they supposed to know who the "good guys" or the "bad guys" are? And the two men who pursued the shooter in Texas were driving at 90 miles an hour and shooting. What if they had shot an innocent bystander? Or caused a traffic accident? And how did they really know the story behind who was shooting? Too many disturbing details...

Timber!

It's never a dull moment! I was expecting to put up a posting about our recent trip to Vermont, but instead I'm blogging about several large trees that decided to take a nose dive in that storm last night. Driving back from Vermont was wet and a bit windy but when we arrived home, the weather picked up significantly. We even lost power for like three seconds- just enough to disrupt the clock on the stove, the computer etc. I heard that 150,000 homes lost power, so we were lucky!

This morning, I was washing the breakfast dishes when Bob came back in from outside and said, "Go look at the driveway..." I had images of our car or truck smashed to bits or my studio roof being burdened by giant branches. Amazingly, the trees that fell down did minimal damage. (Interestingly, they fell exactly where Bob was saying he was going to drop them as he was planning on cutting them down. Both were dead!) Well, no damage to cars or house but...

One of Bob's sculptures took a bit of a beating, but fortunately, it's nothing that can't be fixed. It really is pretty incredible that these trees fell, missing all of the Japanese maples and a large planter that is located there; the trees even missed the vegetable garden fence. It was like precision landing.
I am surprised that we didn't hear these trees fall, but the remnants of the tropical storm- intense rain, really strong wind- probably masked the crashes of the trees. Nothing like experiencing extreme weather (and on the anniversary of Super Storm Sandy!) to confirm the reality of climate change. What with the fires on the west coast, the drought and extreme heat in California and the multiple category 5 hurricanes, we're fortunate that we received only several inches of rain and some wind...
And we are still waiting to really, truly celebrate our 29th non-anniversary. Even farther north in Vermont, there still hasn't been a hard frost. We keep thinking, "Maybe tonight..."

End of Season and Looking to Spring

One of the last flowers of the season! And although we haven't had a hard frost and we haven't been able to officially celebrate our non-anniversary, the few flowers that remain are getting weaker and paler... except for these crazy morning glories! They seem to be in their element. The color is spectacular and they're dribbling and sprawling all over the vegetable garden gates.

And while Bob has reminded me that I said I was "done planting" (whatever that means!) I did manage to score a couple more types of white daffodils and narcissus for that newly planted spring blooming area. I have already planted "Barrett Browning", "Misty Glen", "Thalia" and "Ice Follies", I was eager to snatch up "Mount Hood " and "Poeticus" on sale at an Agway. That new area is going to really be a treat in the spring, as I have lamented the lack of much of anything going on early in the season at The BauHaus Chicken Coop. Next year should bring a lovely explosion of white daffodils, assorted lilacs and an under planting of vinca. I gives me something to look forward to, even if "they" are predicting a relatively mild winter.

Going to New Heights

Some people like heights. They scramble up ladders and perch on roof edges and wave happy trowels while spreading roof sealant. I am not one of these people.
Sensible artist that I am, I like to remain on Terra Firma- even if I am a monkey- and let others scale to extreme heights and face down dizziness, danger and disaster.
That's Bob up there. I guess I should be glad that he seems somehow comfortable ascending to the thin air where eagles soar and he makes sure that the roof in good shape for the approaching winter.
But I'm glad when he comes back to earth.

Yes, that's the actual view... can you see Bob? You couldn't pay me a million dollars to go up there!

Art, Sickeness and The Resistance Continues

I haven't blogged since that terrace completion because I've been really busy. I did Open Studios again this year, after a hiatus of four years. It was great! I got lots of good feedback and some serious interest in being informed of upcoming gallery shows (of which there are a few in the works. I'm excited about that!) There were something like 160+ artists in the building- a giant temporary space that used to be a garrison for some sort of military group, I think. And there was a surprising amount of really interesting and engaging work on display, along with several wacky performances that got me and my friends laughing. (We needed that after all the dire news recently.)
Above is one of the pieces I showed, "The Small Golden Pillow for the Resistance". I had three larger wall pieces on display as well as an assortment of artist's books. I was really happy because this years Open Studios was extraordinarily well attended. I spoke until I was hoarse and saw a lot of artists/friends that I haven't seen in ages. And then I got sick...
Well, that could be because of all the people in attendance, probably a half carrying some cold/virus germs... and there were children! Oh, you have to watch out for those little buggers wiping there snotty boogers everywhere. Did I mention that there were no bathrooms, just Port-O-Lets that got increasingly nasty as the weekend wore on? My last visit just before leaving on Sunday was particularly memorable. I bonded with several people in line who were brave enough (and desperate enough) to need to use the facilities. We played a good game of "what's behind Door Number 1 or Door Number 2... or do you want Door Number 3?" You can't win.
But it very well could have been my considerate co-worker who came in briefly on Friday to coach me in the use of the new photo lights at work. He came in briefly as he went home sick with a cold.  Yeeech. He never strikes me as being the most hygienic fellow at the best of times!
So I'm not feeling particularly smart- or well, either- and i'm going to go take a nap. I actually called in sick today, because unlike others whose names shall not be mentioned, I don't wish to spread illness.

Terrace Complete!

It's only fair that I insert a photo of Bob hard at work on our terrace so that you don't mistakenly think that I did all the work. So here's Bob, mixing up the final batch of mortar to finish off those decorative seams of quartz rocks. This is, after all, The House That Quartz Built.

This is a nice detail shot, showing how we cleverly united the cement areas to the mixed cement and stone areas. It's a perfect balance between playful and practical (much like us!) and it looks good to boot.  It was great to be able to say, "We're done!" and take down the construction zone fencing and open the door directly out onto the lovely new terrace...

We celebrated it's completion yesterday, despite a steady rain and less than cooperative weather in general. The last two months have been unrelentingly warm and sunny and conducive to outdoor living on a nice terrace but plan a celebration and you get rain... at least it's good for curing cement!
It's great to finally finish a project that has been on our minds for the last six years. We do spend a huge percentage of our time outside and having a new outdoor room is a treat. I have almost forgotten how awful that rotting deck was.
And if you look really carefully at the back right hand side of the terrace, you'll see the flat cement slab that was already there and to the right of that is a small pile of rocks. This was intentionally put there: it's a new toad house. We have had a toad- or a few toads that all look pretty similar- residing under our rotting deck. We provided a small heap of canted rocks on the dirt at the edge of the terrace- a perfect replacement house for our resident toads. We hope s/he enjoys it!

Terrace Processo

So the real work on the terrace commences! (To be distinguished from all the preliminaries like hauling gravel, concrete and wood...) Bob is so smart. He figured out a nifty framework to level the areas we constructing: we wanted a combination of cement pads (that would be easier to shovel in the winter) and stone and concrete sections... along with narrower channels which are a combination of mortar and white quartz in between that would unite the pattern. And it had to slope away (slightly) from the house so as to drain well. So many things to consider!
Here we are, considering:

And then the endless mixing and applying began:

(Do I look like I know what I'm doing? Hmmmm....)These bags of cement weigh a ton (well... 90 pounds) but don't go as far as you'd think. We got 8 bags initially (remember all that math about how much weight we'd lifted one afternoon?) but we had to make a second and third trip to Home Depot for the same amount again and again.

Here's a couple of days later. Notice we have a very interesting- and stylish- mix of cement and rock going on. There's a lovely ratio of flat cement pads, radiating out from the door with the surrounding areas (that receive less foot traffic) being a mix of stone and cement. It's dynamic yet restful.

Another angle to better describe what's shaping up. We're about half way there and it is getting more exciting by the day. I can't wait to be able to use it! Next spring?

Rock Shop

Part of the fun of building the terrace is a trip to the quarry. Yay! The piles of sand, gravel, rock, slag and slurry are staggeringly high and it's like visiting the moon or Mars. The first time I went to this quarry with Bob (maybe when we were constructing the chimney? my studio?) I was intimidated by the vast barren heaps and the gigantic equipment that barrels by at what seems like a million miles an hour. Everyone is on an important mission, dwarfed by their humongous Tonka toys.

They're so purposeful and all lined up to be filled with mammoth amounts of pre-mixed concrete. Our project seems so puny in comparison. (And here's a fun fact: the gravel we're buying is absurdly cheap. An entire ton of that crushed stone we got to start the terrace was only $15. The stuff we bought today was only $25 a ton. But to get it delivered was $305! Thank goodness we have the trusty red pick up truck.) The clouds of dust are evidence of just how fast they're going.

Here's a shot of the mountain of rock that they're busily reducing to the 1/2 inch gravel like the stuff we're buying. It looks like the Grand Canyon (or again, the moon) and there are monster trucks racing up and down this very steep access road. It all seems somewhat precarious.

Here's Bob bravely facing down the giant bucket loader that is a big as our truck. These guys are pretty masterful about loading in just the amount you want. I guess they could really crush the truck beneath a pile of rubble if they wanted to. But loaded up, we safely departed and began the other fun- of shoveling off all that gravel back home...


 

Can't Stop Diggin' It

Here's an action shot from my exciting "Digging Cam". Yup! We're at it again... expanding that outdoor seating area. You will remember that as a quick fix for the garden tour, we demolished our sadly rotting "deck" and put down gravel. It looked lovely, but it was but a temporary stop along the way to true, full house-width terrace...

So I spent a pleasant afternoon carting away wheel barrows and wheelbarrows worth of dirt. (And yes, there was only one of me but three wheelbarrows. I was anticipating some friendly gnomes or dwarves to come along and help me out.) Some of the soil went to fill in a sizeable hole that Robin (who was VERY helpful during the Big Dig) had excavated beneath the picnic table. Some went to a mighty depression along side the shady area. And some simply became a pile of dirt. You never know when you'll need extra dirt! (Like when Robin re-excavates that hole...)

(The beginning of the pile of dirt, out past the horse barn.) And there's always plenty of rocks! These will probably go behind Bob's studio. Of course, none of them are flat and usable for the actual terrace; most are just handy potato sized stones, good for not much of anything.

Another live action digging photo! Isn't this exciting? I know I've mentioned before than I really like to dig in the dirt. It's truly one of my favorite mindless exercises. I guess that makes me pretty luck today as I dug away to my heart's content. By the late afternoon, it was well underway.

It needs to be deeper but I got a good start and all the sod is removed. We need more gravel and concrete, but we have the rocks for the edge and all kinds of ideas for the central pattern. I did this preparation so that Bob and I can do the construction this weekend.

And all day long, I had this bit of doggerel looping through my head. I believe it is from Vonnegut's "Slaughter House Five" (Could be re-attributing...)

 "Me and Yuri work in mine-
Holy shit! We have good time!
Every Friday we get paid-
Holy shit! No work next day!"

That just about sums it up.

Our Little Bit of Scotland

The above dramatization occurred at work one day while describing to a co-worker how I will never retire. I maintain I will simply be found collapsed and deceased on the job. He captured the moment for posterity*.
A month or so ago, Bob and I began toying with the notion of visiting Scotland, as the ticket prices advertised by Norwegian Airlines from our local airport were very enticing. We haven't been on a significant trip- or even out of the country- in a very long time and our passports are up to date and why not Scotland? We looked at videos of perky travelers exploring the offerings of Edinburgh and the Scottish countryside, sampling haggis and whisky. We viewed hotel accommodations...
But wait! It came to me at work (perhaps while demonstrating "dying in my traces" like Boxer in "Animal Farm") that we should spend our money and time concentrating on that which would have a lasting, life-long effect. We should spend our time and money traveling to New York as we both truly wish to make a mark, leave our stamp upon the Art World!
So, newly reinvigorated and inspired, we sped off to NYC on Saturday and spent the day perusing galleries and the requisite ten million faces. (I mean, New York is nothing if not full of faces.) We saw the good, the bad and (dare I say it?) the less than sublime. But we went! And we saw! And it was (as always) oddly transfixing and transformative and exhausting. We're tired today.
However, the Lower East Side is (and has been for a few years) the new-er area to see art. It smells a bit like fish (occasionally) as this is Chinatown before Art Land, but who cares when culture (Kulture!) calls?
We had several "on trend" moments when it became apparent that scumbled, pealed back paper eroded "archeological" pieces were favored. And painting. Yes, painting is still "having a (big) moment". And space men? It's a decent season for the artist that pixel-ates or likes space alien/robot heads. (A few were actually okay.) What else... drawings that were very detailed and had a fantasy element seemed worth looking at. Some want to call this "outsider" but hell: what's an insider artist? And then we met a woman running a gallery that (I swear) was like eight feet square, featuring an obsessive artist coloring in plywood carved anal sculptures. Heavens help us...
And then we celebrated Bob's birthday ( five months late) at an Indian restaurant. Not just any one! It is a restaurant that we've been going to for years. I swear they save us a front row table, under the most amazing strobe-lit disco ball, with ever-lower red hot pepper themed Xmas lights- what a treat! The food was wonderful, the company exclusive and charming... we had a really good time.
And now we're tired but happy. I feel really good about our decision to "stay put" and go to NYC more frequently. We need to get that art career train rolling...

photo credit: Antony Corso

Legs 'n' Leaves Etc.

I've been digging out my heavier tights and stockings because (bloody hell!) it's getting colder. I keep reflecting on how big this (crazy) country is, as there's lovely (albeit chilly) weather here and a huge hurricane ripping a tropical path of destruction there. Thank goodness that everyone I know that has some association with Florida is somewhere else, safe. I guess people like the idea of living in warm, sunny, beautiful sunset laden beach-y areas but Climate Change has mangled that equation.
For one reason or another- including becoming somewhat weary of the company of my fellow human beings, I haven't even felt like blogging recently. We were so busy with the garden tour, parties, work, cleaning up Mommy's house that I needed a break and to get into my studio and rest. (And I need to resolve my dilemma of the death of my digital camera. I really don't want to use a phone...)But I'm back! No more shirking my blog-a-tory responsibilites!

And speaking of tropicality, take a look at what we grew. Those leaves are truly gigantic. This is the first time I grew this particular variety of elephant ears and they are pretty amazing. Here's a shot to give a sense of scale:

I got these bulbs (marked down and really cheap) at Home Depot. They sat for weeks in this container and I was feared they had rotted and died. But as soon as the weather got really warm, a little green nose appeared and then they sprouted extravagantly. I will attempt to winter the bulbs over; some varieties have been easy (cannas, dahlias, a couple of elephant ears) some trickier (the elephant ears that require even moisture, striped cannas etc.).

See? We're enjoying the last of the summer! We were picking blueberries this morning- yes! we're still picking "Elliot" a remarkable variety- and our fingers were freezing. I told Bob I'd help him finish up after I take my walk and get warm. And peaches! We've had a bumper crop of delicious spicy sweet peaches. And beans, and tomatoes and peppers. It's been a great gardening year and I hate to see it go. But at least we're not awaiting a Category 4 or 5 storm... just snow.