Sundries

 

Let's start with a nice photo! Look at that butterfly (a swallow tail, I think?) He/she actually waited for me to run into the house and grab the camera... what were the chances? It looks so perfect, perched on the flower spire of our in-full-bloom Vitex Agnus-Castus. (A great shrub, by the way! Lovely blue-ish purple flower clusters, a bit like lilacs and nice clean green leaves that nothing touches. This year it looks particularly good.)

Here's another picture; I tried to get the butterfly to spread his/her wings wide but he/she was shy. This is the closest it came, but the sun was in a funny spot so it's sort of dark:

As is usual for this time of the year, despite the long days, we've been busy and I always feel I could have another couple of hours to do things. But I'm tired, too. Bob and I whaled away at my riding area again and boy does it look good.

I'm not sure how well this reads; this area was a mess of old stacked logs, roots, overgrown bittersweet and scrubby trees... a mess! Just what we did in the past several days expanded the width of my "arena" by a good eight to ten feet. That makes a whole lot of difference to Neko and me as we canter through.

This is the pile of stumps, sticks, twigs, bark and general debris that we hauled off. (We need to get the truck in here to cart it away.) It's been quite the project and the results are dramatic. I'm tired, although I confess that it was Bob who did the all he chainsawing and maddoxing and the majority of the digging out of serious roots. I chopped back smaller stuff and did most of the schlepping the leavings over to the brush pile. I also dug out some sizeable rocks. I'll be ready to train for the Olympics now in my improved Dressage Arena! (*1)

And did I mention that some of the vines and roots I removed were poison ivy? You knew this had to happen. I'm waiting for my arm to truly erupt later tonight!

 (*1) I trust we've all been watching horses "dance" in dressage? Impressive! Neko and I are lucky to stay upright, let alone perform a piaffe!

Rita Abhors A Vacuum

Oh my god! What is that?!?!? Empty space? Raw dirt exposed in my garden?!?? NOOOOOOOOO!!

I am not a minimalist gardener. I cannot abide empty real estate. If there is a hole, I long to fill it... in case we haven't noticed. I'm a maximalist by nature...

See that? Gardening is about plants: Nature is the one who concocted the idea of close planting. I like cheek-by-jowl flowers against belly-to-the bar foliage. Close quarters, no room at the inn. Go take a look at how fields are "planted": a dense carpet of plants.

A dense tapestry of color and form and excitement and delight. I am happy when you cannot see the forest for the trees. This year, I am happy to report that except for that aberration in The Blue Garden, I have very few holes yearning to be filled. I guess I've been diligent in "repairing" the spots that aggrieved me in past years. So despite loosing a million seedlings to slugs and weird weather, my garden has looked pretty good all season. 

A long time ago, I read a book entitled, "Square Foot Gardening". The author's premise was an inspiration to me. Again, in Nature, plants don't "space" themselves out; the duke it out. I realized this author and I had a lot in common. I have subscribed to this principal ever since. Cram 'em in!

Here's a chock-a-block nasturtium container... who would want to see an acre of exposed potting soil in place of that eruption of foliage and flowers? Craziness! Needless to say, I cannot abide what I call "mulch gardens": those desolate expanses of (often dyed) wood chips with a pathetic clump of flowers... here... and a minute shrub... there and lots and lots of barren waste land in between! Make me crazeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! I am mentally filling it all in!

A corner of the terrace. Although maybe I did go a bit over board with containers this year. There is not a lot of maneuvering room on the terrace. But there IS color!!

*A brief postscript: It has been so insanely hot this summer; REALLY hot. Our computer is in our office. The office has many windows and gets really overheated in the afternoon. It has been absolutely impossible to spend time in there so I have been negligent in posting blogs. I am sure you have all missed me (and my latest birthday!). Fortunately, cooler weather- and heads- are returning!
 

 

New Project! (Equine Activity Inspired Edition)

 

Here's Horse #1 stopping by to say "hello". Maggie is essentially a large lawn ornament for these past several years, occasionally indulging in her new pass time, "Collapsing Over While Sleeping". Such fun! She looks like one of those small toys whose legs bend in wonky angles when you press on the underneath of the stand:

Hahhaahaha! Especially entertaining when you're considering she's an 800 pound beast. We run around clapping our hands and yelling her name in an effort to get her to right herself. Never a dull moment. But where I going with this blog?

Here's Horse #2. Hi Neko! (Love how I captured that live action tail!)  Anyway, this post is more pertinent to her, as I ride Neko and I am currently attempting to expand my riding area. Here's what it  looks like at the moment:

It looks like a huge flat expanse from this vantage point, but once you're careening around at high speed, atop a deranged beast (that's Neko's department) it looks a whole lot smaller! So I have considered for quite a while now how to expand our riding horizons. I debated surreptitiously moving, under cover of the night, our property line/fence line; our neighbors would never know, right? No... I suspect that's illegal, along with being pretty un-neighborly behavior! So I am undertaking expanding into the scrubby, woodsy strip to the right (in the picture above).

Currently, it's a pile of wood, still left over from that tornado of several years past:

and a mess of poison ivy, bittersweet and adolescent trees. (Probably ticks and snakes, too!) But does that stop me? Not on your life; I'm made of sterner stuff! I got the my tools together: loppers, a rake, hand pruners and my wheel barrow. (I had to move a pile of compost that I had deposited here, thinking it was "out of the way". Ha! As soon as something is placed in an "out of the way" location, a better use for that particular spot is found and you have to move the first stuff. I think Bob and I specialize in this!)

Anyway, three or so hours later, I had made good progress. You can actually walk behind the pile of wood, and Bob's going to fire up the ol' chainsaw and remove some of the larger trees. We're also happily digging out rocks and some pesky stumps. Like I said, never a dull moment!

Would It Please Stop Storming?!?!

                                        

This weather is crazy!! We were awakened at 1:30 by an amazingly loud, nasty, brilliantly evil thunderstorm. A real record smasher!

I am hoping everyone made it through that storm unmolested; I worried about middle-of-the-night tornadoes. Late afternoon tornado was bad enough... I seriously don't want trees crashing and roofs leaking at midnight and beyond. (Not that I want to see damage.)

                                             

And it's doing it again!! The sky is crackling and heaving and there are ginormous puddles in our usually well-drained yard. I am sick of opening the windows to get some air in the house and then running around slamming them all shut because torrents of rain are washing our floor. (Well, it does need washing!)

                                    

 And tomorrow, we're expecting Tropical Storm Elsa to pay a wet and windy visit. Heavens help us!

My Cousin Johnny

 

 I have only done this once before: written what I guess is a eulogy. That was for Mommy. (I still miss her!) This time around, I am compelled to memorialize my cousin Johnny who played a bigger part in my childhood than anyone will ever know.

Johnny was two years older than me which- when we were kids- afforded him a sense of wisdom and gravitas. He got me to do and believe all sorts of pretty crazy stuff because of this age advantage. Like the time he paid me a dollar (in pennies) if I would eat an entire raw onion. (I did it.) 

We lived in New Haven while our parents built their house on property contiguous to my grandmother (Gramma) and my aunts and uncles. Every weekend, we would drive to Durham so that Mommy and Daddy could work on the house. I would immediately run across the field to see Johnny. We spent most of our time roving the woods, building forts and bridges and somehow not injuring ourselves too badly. Our toys consisted mainly of tools: saws and hatchets and other sharp implements stolen from our parents tool boxes: real child-safe approved stuff.(*1) Also frequently starring in our escapades was Johnny's bee bee gun. (Oh boy did I want one!) We shot at all sorts of things, most often missing but sometimes hitting one another. I still recall the day I limped home with several round holes in my knee, trusting that Mommy wouldn't ask too closely what had happened.

Johnny and I founded The Kongatowa Club. (*2)It was named for a large stream flowing through the property that abutted our family's woods; I don't know that it had an "official" name but we christened it The Kongatowa River. It afforded passage to vast tracts of swamp and forest, which in turn led to a dirt road that approached The Pig Man's Farm. We often dared each other to climb the rise that hid the (literal) Pig Farm from view. The smell was frequently overwhelming but it was thrilling to catch a glimpse of the hidden farm or even get chased away by the farmer. We in The Kongatowa Club lived dangerously.

After these exhilarating and exhausting excursions (*3), we'd repair to Gramma's house- nicknamed The Tea House- for a cup of milky tea, graciously provided by Gramma. The mismatched teacups themselves provided entertainment: who would get the cup adorned by a pheasant (referred to as the "Fozzent" cup), or The Daniel Boone mug? There were also Gramma's mysterious Cabinet of Rocks to admire and a strange wooden dachshund painted green... all sorts of oddities. Johnny, Cathy and I spent hours visiting Gramma, who enjoyed our company until we resorted to one of our favorite pass times. This consisted of spitting (often some of that milky tea) into the large furnace grate that covered part of her living room floor. A satisfying sizzling noise arose from the unseen depths of the basement and satisfying words of surprise and anger erupted from Gramma. (*4) 

These are the things I remember about Johnny and our childhood escapades. I didn't see Johnny, or his wonderful wife Chris, much in adulthood, but I know he was happy making music and traveling to Block Island and Jamestown and working on his house, which I recall having been transformed into a playful space with nooks and crannies and cats. The last time I saw Johnny was at Mommy's funeral and gathering. He seemed well and it was nice to catch up. The last time I talked to Johnny was last year. In COVID time, he had been admitted to the hospital with a recurrence of cancer. (*5) When he returned home, I called him, hoping he'd sound okay. He was weak and tired and realistic about what was happening.

Johnny died this last week. I think his death caused me to reflect on the fragility of our lives and on how much time has passed since our childhoods. I hope that Johnny has crossed The Kongatowa River and is enjoying a milky cup of tea with Gramma at The Tea House.

(*1) I am not sure whether our parents ever knew exactly where all these tools had vanished to. Mommy and Daddy probably blamed each other for having carelessly misplaced them. It is possible they thought we were angels who would never do dangerous stuff like steal and lie.. hahahahaaha!!

(*2) My younger sister Cathy was a sometimes/partial member of this organization. She was occasionally allowed to accompany us on our adventures into the outback, but I am sorry to confess that one of the reasons for The Kongatowa Club was to keep it exclusive. Johnny and I therefore spent time and effort thinking up impossible tasks for Cathy to perform in order to achieve full membership. (Nice, huh?) More than once, we left Cathy to chop through a fallen tree with an extremely dull saw. We'd go off on exciting excursions and return an hour later to find my poor sister diligently hewing away. Kids are so cruel! I cringe now to consider this but at the time it felt great!

(*3) How's that for alliteration?!? 

(*4) Let's face it: half the fun of being a kid is irritating adults and pushing limits!

(*5) Do I need to say it? Fuck cancer.

The "Famous" Blue Garden

 

 

If I do say so myself, The Blue Garden (or "The Booze Garden" lovingly dubbed thusly because of all those delightful blue beer and wine bottles) is really looking good this year. When I am feeling overwhelmed by the amount of planting/edging/weeding/maintenance that the totality of our horticultural empire requires, I visit The Blue Garden and feel at peace. It's filled in, it has texture and color (blue) and flowers and foliage and it looks pretty great!

It's hard to convey just how blue things really are. There's tall Delphinium (here in the center but hard to see!) that are the same light blue as the sky (guess that's why this cultivar is named "Summer Skies".) and a nifty blue bird's nest spruce that looks spectacular this year (thank you Beatrice and John! a birthday gift a few years back) and my Blue Atlas Cedar- nicknamed "The Etch-A-Sketch Tree" as it's very narrow...

 

That's a detail of the Bird's Nest. And you can sorta see the truly brilliant blue of the Veronica directly above it (if you squint!) Blue is a notoriously hard color to photograph as it's recessive and tends to disappear... don't I know!

Slightly (?) better photo of the "Summer Skies" Delphinium and  the Blue Atlas Cedar (It's the ratty looking thing just to the left of the bushy Chamaecyparis in the center. I LIKE those spindly odd-ball trees!!) And of course, blue bottles in buckets and on stalks and edging the walkway...

And yes, that's the lovely Robin the Good photobombing on the mosaic walk way! She's very reticent about letting me actually photograph her; I'm lucky I got her tail end! (But she's never far away.)

Ooops! I shot this picture before I mulched the Agave with white quartz rocks; it looks even more dramatic now! But this sucker is mighty impressive! I had to wear leather gloves when I transferred it from the container I purchased him to this metal urn. Did I mention that I like spindly, spiky plants? I guess I also like chunky, spiky plants! And it really is a great metallic blue. 

I know in past years of posting, I have featured The Blue Garden but it really has matured. And I do keep having fun seeking out those elusive blue flowers. Still to come are Heavenly Blue Morning Glories and hopefully, some Bachelor's Buttons. Somehow I lost the seeds for my Forget-Me-Nots (Cynoglossum "firmament"): not sure if I threw them away or some crazy bird stole the packet but poof! they were gone!

In Which I Admit to an Art Error!

 

See? You can barely read that! That was a big problem and my first "mistake". The colors and textures were fine, but the text disappeared into the surrounding fabric... and this is after I pain-stakingly double stitched it onto the larger piece.

So I pain-stakingly undid all those double stitches and mounted it on a darker piece of nifty, pseudo- marbelized fabric and laboriously re-stitched it back onto the larger piece (which reads, by the way, "Uh Oh... Kleptocracy".)

See how effective this addition of an under color was? See how the text pops and you can easily read it? See how I made a big mistake? No, I didn't see it either until I hung the entire panel on my wall and... holy cow?!!! How could I have not seen that? I reversed "uh" and "oh" and came up with a piece of gibberish. Second mistake! (*1)

So I (for the millionth time) pain-stakingly unstitched the words, replaced to top layer as the edges were now seriously fraying, and re-sewed it on. Looks great now!

Here's the entire, correctly spelled piece: 

 Not sure why this piece seems to want to photograph really darkly... could be all we've had is dark, rainy days for what seems like weeks! And this piece looks tiny but it's actually quite large; probably six feet tall and eight wide. I'm still working on hemming all the edges- which is a cinch as the material is thin and silky. (Not like the other piece I'm working on which is like three layers of pseudo ostrich leather and forces me to punch holes in my poor bloody fingers every three seconds!!!) Interestingly, this piece also weighs a ton as there's beading on top of all that fabric. And hidden underneath is a section of ugly old table cloth, acting as an unseen support as the thin silky, Versace-inspired background fabric is very thin and would never support all the work on top. My work is starting to require structural support...

I guess the upside of the chilly rainy weather is that it drove me back inside and got me to finish up several in -process works. A couple of (fully vaccinated) friends have visited and it's refreshing to be able to admit them to my studio and show off what I've been up to Lo! these many quarantined months. Enough work for a good sized show...

 

(*1) And we all remember a previous art mistake. I was beading images of my credit cards and accidentally omitted the "P" in "American Express". But that one turned out happily, and the mistake remained and made the piece unimaginably more charming. Wish I could find that image to demonstrate but it's on a flash drive somewhere...