Snow Shadows and other beautiful things

A house of love for bluebirds!

Valentine's Day is a little past, but I've been saving this image. It's John's Valentine's Day gift to me. . . a Bluebird Box. So romantic. I can hardly contain myself. He has a gift for gifts, at least sometimes. I got him a box of The Chocolat Bar's caramels. Delicious, but not nearly as romantic.

This winter has had long stretches of exceptional cold. If it wasn't grossly inconveniencing Jasper, I'd be ok with it. It's given me a chance to get back to my violin, and to specifically take my bows in for re-hairing. What a revelation that turned out to be. The gentleman who is doing the job lent me a bow while he works on mine, and I could NOT believe how much better my tone is with it. I knew that the last guy to re-hair my bows was a fledgling luthier, but I had no idea how much difference good bow hair could make.

 

But I digress. As the title suggests, I've found myself enamored of snow shadows. John and I walk with Jasper every evening, and when the moon is bright, the shadows on the snow are so beautiful that they still my heart. Make me gasp. I haven't gotten it together to try to capture them with my little video machine, but I did take this video of the snow shadows in the sun. This was taken when Jasper and I were walking on the Inland Hospital trail. I see these every time I look out my windows here, too. We are so lucky.

 Snow Shadows Video

Boots, please. It's cold out here.

And of course, here is Jasper, duded up for the snow and cold. He has actually refused to walk when it's in single digits without his boots. This is remarkable, given his fondness for walking, so I take it seriously.

And while I have you here, I thought I'd show you how I photograph my work. John built a glazing booth for me in my studio. It has a good quality kitchen vent and light, as well as a tray for draining any mess. There is plenty of mess when I glaze. But because it has translucent walls, I can also use it as a photo booth, with a few adjustments.

The Glazing booth

 I use a Gradient backdrop that I clip on to the back wall, and can then place my piece on the backdrop. I use an old Coolpix camera, which has a great closeup adjustment, and a tripod to minimize movement. It works quite well. I love putting together these tools and pieces of equipment, using my brain, my indulgent tech and inflicting minimal fiscal pain for my efforts.

Sorry for the blurry image of the photo booth, but you get the idea.

 

Voila. Now a photo booth

Because the light has a lot of yellow in it, I use Photoshop to correct that. I can also erase any errant dust that sneaks into my image. But the image itself is in it's original state. While I developed this technique for close ups of jewelry for my website, it's adapted nicely to larger works in ceramics.

New pottery foibles

Time in the studio has been kind of precious. I've made some new twists to some old forms, am trying new glazing approaches (argh) and just doing some basic skill building. I really learned the lessons of clay bodies this time around. I had some white stoneware to use up, but most of these pieces were made from a coarse brown sculptural clay. I remembered the lesson of dyeing brown eggs instead of white, and wondered if some of those sumptuous intense colors might also reveal themselves on brown clay.

Perhaps oddly, the white speckled mug at the right turned out to be my favorite. It is hand built. It has some flaws. . .it is a little too small for my mug taste. But the Very Sturdy brown clay held its shape beautifully, took texture well, and all of those speckles are from the clay, not the glaze. The glaze is just a flat white glaze called Klaus Hard White.

No mug collection is complete without me trying more variations on the Lily mug. The left mug is also small for a mug. . . almost more of an espresso size (but not quite), but the larger of these two is pretty much perfect. I think I can stop working on this particular set of variations! I do love it, though. They are mostly for right handed people, though I can drink using my left hand as well from these. . . the appliques don't interfere with lip contact!

Last of the mugs in this batch is the larger brown mug to the right. John claimed this for his own as soon as he saw it. It is also thrown, and the inside glaze is white, with the outside being a flat macha cacao. Again, all of those speckles are compliments of the clay body. It also takes texture well, as evidenced by the little bit on the handle.

The big experiment of this group was the hand-built pitcher to the left. It's relatively large (maybe 14" tall?) and was inspired by this pitcher we saw at a restaurant in Freeport. 

I don't know what possessed me to make the handle more Asian looking. . .maybe inspired by the texture I applied? Anyway, inspiration is everywhere. One just needs to see.

Finally, a couple of bowls and a new tumbler. The tumbler had the same lesson is clay sturdiness. Previous tumblers have gotten at least a little misshapen in the firing process. This clay body, though the same thickness as some stoneware and porcelain tumblers I've made, refuses to let the heat alter her. Let us all be so sturdy.

 

 

Small lives

I have a maiden hair fern that I brought home shortly after moving here, more than 3 years ago now. She has proven to be a bit of a drama queen, requiring daily watering, not-to-much sun, but enough-sun, and really prefers to be misted daily as well. I find her worth the extra bit of effort, even though she returns my efforts modestly. Hers is a small delicate beauty, and one slip up in the watering schedule can result in a dead frond. Let that be a warning to you. Me. But given the above careful regime, she gives me these tiny brown stems. The new leaves are balled up like little fists initially, extending themselves into green fronds after a week or two.

I love that careful observation gives us this gift. A small life that embellishes our own.

We three decided to take a road trip yesterday. It was originally planned for Sunday (we still, oddly, adhere to weekday and weekend schedules in spite of our retired status), but temperatures inspired a move to Monday. Our destination was Bath. I had remembered a conversation when we were first looking for a new home. It was with a waitress, I think, and when asked where she thought the best place in the area was to live, she had responded "Bath. Look in Bath." We did, but there was nothing available we could afford, and that still likely is the case.

However, it is a beautiful town. A classic coastal New England tourist destination which is absolutely lovely and mostly tourist free this time of year. I found a nice hike that was close to town, and we three had a lovely snowy hike. We met a very friendly native with her equally friendly Bearnaise Mountain Dog, and had a lovely chat and some trail advice.

Jasper has finally acquired boots worthy of himself, by the way. This is our third pair, and I'm hoping that these. . .with the gaiters incorporated. . .will at long last stay on. He may look a little put out in this photo, but he really loves cavorting with them in the very cold snow.

The view at the top of the trail was lovely, and there is a lot left to explore in subsequent trips. I forgot to take a photo of the map at the trailhead before we left, so was reluctant to travel too far off the main trail. Still. A decent workout, a lovely view, and Jasper tired enough for us to lunch in downtown Bath. We ate at Burano's, a place with great pizza, a decent beer selection, and service that was stellar. 

There were plenty of other places to explore, though, and we made an essential stop at the downtown bakery and the Artists' Cooperative, which represented some very impressive folks. There were 4 felters, for goodness sake. I doubt there's another gallery in the country that can boast that. Smile.

The weather was warm; well, Maine warm which was just over 32F. The day clear. The feeling deceptively hopeful. 

But now is not the time to wax in comfort. Write your congress people, Ladies and Gentlemen. The takeover has begun, and we can't Not Stand Up.

The Winter Sports

 

Sorry for the not-so-great image quality, but the window I shot this photo from is really filthy. And it's been too Freezing to clean it. Still. You get the gist. We got a few inches of snow today (what the Mainers call a dusting), and the birds are hard at it. And yes. That is the rear end of a very groundhog-like squirrel, noshing away on the ground seed. It's ok. We can share. Bird seed is part of our winter entertainment budget!

On the indoor sports front, though, I decided to test a hypothesis I had on bread baking. I couldn't quite do a controlled experiment, but it was close. Also, I did the math on how much it costs to make bread, minus my labor. Using King Arthur AP bread flour, and grocery store yeast, it costs me about $1.50 (including the electricity for the stove) to make a loaf of rustic bread.

So. This experiment started with an elongated ceramic bread cloche that I got years ago (and gave to my daughters as well). I felt like I wasn't getting the same quality of crusty bread from it that I got from my cast iron dutch oven. Was it true? If so, why? There are 2 possible reasons.

1. The ceramic cloche has different heat holding capacity than the cast iron.

2. The shape (round vs. oblong) changes the way the bread cooks.

Oops. And there is a third possibility. With the cloche, I usually use a piece of parchment to transfer the dough to the hot cloche. Was Not using a flour dusted towel causing a difference?

I realize that this little experiment may not fascinate you all, so feel free to ignore the rest of this if it makes you want to curl up and go to sleep!

Onward. In the following images I'll show you what I did. I'll finish this post with my conclusions. I know. The suspense is killing us all. 

 

Above is the freshly mixed dough. . .made as identically as I could.

To the left is the dough rising, again keeping conditions as identical as possible. 

 

 

After the rises (see recipe at the bottom), I formed the loaves and let them rise again. Note that one is oblong, the other a boule.

After cooking to the left. Be still my heart.

 

And the real test, cutting into the loaves. I should be much fatter than I am. . . 

But here are the results

1. The crust on the boule was a little thicker and tougher than on the loaf. Not a bad thing, but enough to notice.

2. The interiors of the two loaves were indistinguishable from one another. They had the same mouth feel, the same knife resistance, and the same number of larger and smaller holes

3. The taste was also the same for both the boule and the loaf.

So. My hypothesis that either the shape of the loaf (vs boule) or the heat holding capacity of the two covered vessels was dead wrong. I'm certain (with a p(F) value of .05) that the difference I perceived between bread from the cloche vs. the dutch oven is due to the use of parchment paper rather than using a heavily floured cloth for the final rise is the culprit. Science. Works. 

Drop the mike.

And the Orchestra Played On. . .

 

A small and perplexing miracle

A sad quote (referencing the sinking of the Titanic, if you don't recognize it), accompanied by a hopeful image. 

I have no idea how an impatiens seed found it's way into my snake plant (the impatiens was outside, the snake plant inside), but it did. I saw it germinate a couple of months ago, and fortunately recognized it and let it grow. A friend of mine once said she loved volunteer plants so much. She would mimic raising her hand in that anxious way that grade schoolers do, and say "I want to be a sunflower!" or "I want to be an impatiens!". Very silly. And that's what I need in these not so silly days of despair. Of lies and misrepresentations. Of "J9 hostages", and condemnation of an honorable and incredibly productive administration. And all of these lies and misrepresentations met with cheers and clapping. From the American people. What have we done?

French Mountain again

 

 Still. This minor and perplexing miracle is a small thing to hold on to. Bright faces to cheer the subzero temperatures. Even Jasper has reservations about walking when it's -5F.

Fear not. I will not cheat you of his lovely face. Before the serious cold, we once again visited French Mountain. Cleats required for me, but Jasper does just fine skirting the ice flows. Now the cold is a bigger worry, and we'll try his booties this afternoon. He will not be a fan, I know, but his feet may be.

A face I never tire of

There is a lot of winter work to do, on the trails and the house. I've decided to start practicing my violin again. Don't hold me to it. Or maybe do hold me to it. I have made this decision before and had other things intervene. I still have this work-before-play obsession that keeps me from doing things I really want to do, but then I usually want to do the work, too. Pleasant tasks. But tasks nonetheless.

Indoor garden

I'll close with an image of my south window (note the newly repotted Boston Fern. . .I need to repot the larger one too, but it is grim work), and a short video of one of the Winter Streams on the Messalonskee Stream Trail. (click on the link below the image. . .)

 

 

 

Stream to Stream in Winter

Tis the Season. . .

 

'Tis the season for knitting, books, and Very chilly hikes. I just finished these socks for John, and then found out that I had changed the pattern on the second sock, which made it too small, so it's frogging and re-knitting for me. Ack. Still. These will be warm and soft and not-too-bulky for years to come, so they're worth the effort.

And frustration is the new joy, right? Ha.

The weather has been strange. Very cold (though not into negative numbers yet), and very dry. We still have patches of snow, but nothing fresh, and any liquid is solidly frozen. We saw folks skating on Johnson Pond at Colby College yesterday. It made John and I think about buying some ice skates!

Ice Needles have formed all along the wooded trails, mostly in the duff. They crunch outrageously underfoot. This is not a great image, but it gives you an idea. Jasper is largely unfazed by the cold weather, but I do check the temperature of his feet periodically when we're out for more than 45 minutes or so.

I'll close with an image from the top of Mt. Phillip. It's hard to see, but the ice on the lake is coalescing into a whole from plates. Another wonder of physics whose cause eludes me. Need to seriously consider those skates. . .

Christmas Snow

There is no rational reason for snow to delight me when it comes on Christmas Eve, but it still does. The light in the house changes, the dog cavorts (as much as he can at 14), paths are plowed and opened, and everything is covered in. . .what is it? Beauty. 

Ok. That happens whenever it snows, but the White Christmas thing, as cheesy as it can be, is still a part of my cultural heritage.

Best wishes to all for a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, a Happy Hanuka, and whatever other lighting-the-dark holidays there are in the world.
 

Three to Flee . . .and back again

View from El Eperon trail

Here it is, a week plus after Thanksgiving, and I'm just getting around to posting this. We three fled to Quebec City for Thanksgiving. . . it had been long planned, and it is a wonderful city. It is also a very dog friendly city, with fabulous restaurants that are all open on Thanksgiving day. I had thought that leaving the U.S. for even that short time (4 nights) might be a bit of a balm for recent events, but it really wasn't. The pain of it travels.

 

C3 Hotel Art de vivre

But. We stayed in a beautiful old world hotel that was across from the National Beaux Arts Museum of the Arts, Quebec, which fronted the Plains of Abraham Park. Think Central Park in New York. The park has some very manicured areas, but also some wilder areas where Jasper could roam off leash without annoying anyone. There was also a trendy commercial district with all sorts of shopping, including chocolate, groceries and spirits. Voila. I've decided I want to spend a bit more time with the French language before I come here next year. I should say "if", because this sort of travel is harder and harder on Jasper. 

A dog and his man

He is an absolute trouper, don't get me wrong, but he is also such a creature of routine. And we are all getting older. I can't quite say "old"yet. . .

On Thanksgiving day, we drove to Jacques Cartier National Forest and hiked, as per our newly established tradition last year. Also, as last year, there was about 6" of new snow on the ground. The paintbrush of beauty that snow paints over already beautiful places is breathtaking. One can, indeed, gild the lily.

Last year the hike was tough due to my knee and John's heart. Both of those were "fixed" this past summer, and it was still a tough hike! 1000 feet of elevation, and some pretty slippery areas as well. The views were well worth it, and we brought a small picnic (flash of wine and snacks) for the finish. . . sitting in the open back hatch of Shadow, watching the snow drift down, eating biscuits (dog and other wise) and reflecting on our mortality. Ha. Isn't that what Thanksgiving is for?

Another view, El Eperon

We had a reservation at Le Sam's at the Frontenac for dinner.The Frontenac is an amazing castle-like hotel. It was designed as a hotel. . .something I found surprising, because it looks like a fortress, and Quebec was initially a walled city. But it was designed as the trans Canadian Railway was being built. It abuts the historic Old Quebec, and a tourist and park area that is at once charming and extensive.

The Frontenac Hotel

 

 

 

The Canadians always impress me with their extensive parks and outdoor areas. They seem to value these public outdoor spaces on a federal level, and it shows. There were public skating rinks in several towns that we passed through, and the area around the Frontenac and Old Quebec also have a lot of open space, as well as a sled run, and miles of board walk that run through forest with views of the St. Lawrence.

Leading up the The Frontenac

The architecture in the area where we stayed was also astonishing. . .a bit soup to nuts in some places where more contemporary looking buildings have been built adjacent to older ones.

Directly across from our hotel was a cathedral reminiscent of some we've seen in England. I love these beautiful old buildings, but I can't help but wonder how our world would look if we put as much energy and thought into people as we put into God. 

Cathedral

Quebec cityscape

We arrived home on Friday to a power outage. This caused some tooth gnashing and scrambling, since it was cold, snowy, and our solar panels/battery weren't working as foretold. Grr. Still. Between helpful neighbors and the solar battery in our EV, we toughed it out for another couple of days. Water was the only real issue, and we resorted to bringing in pots of snow and melting it on the propane stove. We're not ready to go off grid at this point, but it was good to know both the weak spots in our system, and that we could pull off a couple of days without serious damage.

Worthy of note on the home front, the poinsettia images here are from a couple that a friend who was traveling dropped by my house 2 years ago. They respond perfectly to the shortening days of winter, producing these gorgeous bracts.

And! Notice the graceful natural form they've grown into. Poinsettias have had the unfortunate gift of popularity. They are grown by the thousands and treated with plant growth regulators (similar to mammalian hormones) to keep a compact shape. Given a couple of years, a normal amount of attention, and handmade pots, they have come into their own. This, they say, is who I am. Behold. Smile.

As a Last Shot, I give you the Christmas Hares on our front porch. Last year I made Elizabethan collars for them. This year we're going with a more Druidic look. I love their "don't mess with me" stance, even with tiaras of berries in place.

 

A perspective shift

This Honeysuckle vine just can't give up. She always flowers early, and is the last to give up in the winter. A metaphor? Maybe. But maybe just a distraction toward beauty too. And persistence.

The world has not ended, and time is slowly slowly working its on-with-it magic. Or maybe it's just putting some distance between the acute pain and the chronic.

It is again unseasonably warm today, reminding of me how much we have already lost. But I also have a bunch of glazing to do, a meeting to get an agenda out on, and planning for gatherings of friends. There have been some wonderful essays circulating in this internet universe. I'll share a couple that have been sent to me by friends.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=BaCEtZnXWdY 

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/11/11/opinion/against-panic-a-survival-kit.html?unlocked_article_code=1.ZE4.qsMQ.qHU8bgK38DjG&smid=url-share 

 

And here's one of Jasper and I on a fall day at The Quarry's Dock. 

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/kessJOCGGTw

All the leaves are brown. . .

. . . and the sky is gray. Remember that song? Well here we are. Just before a pivotal moment in history, trying to stay positive. Isn't it just realistic to think that we will make a choice that will lead us to curb Climate Change, reinforce the rights of all of us (women, people with more pigment in their skin,) find solutions to all of the very tough problems that face us?

Maybe that's asking too much.

But the sky IS gray today. The leaves have faded to brown, though most of them here are oak leaves, which are mostly brown in the fall anyway.

 

The next day. So much can change in a day. It was over quickly. While I'd like to suspect a rigged election, it just isn't hard to believe that the American people are this ignorant. Or is it racist and misogynistic? Nope. Ignorance wins. But as it was 75F today on November 6 in the middle of Maine, we can expect a huge increase in climate disasters, species extinctions (maybe our own), and civilization collapse. I have long felt that we were seeing the slow implosion of our civilizations via the lost of trust in our institutions. This will just hasten it. It fills me with despair, but my pragmatic self assures me that civilizations rise and fall as a matter of course. We just happen to be in this one. What now? We support each other, as a friend said. Or perhaps follow my daughter's suggestion. Today the jam, tomorrow the revolution.

Below Freezing: A short note

Patient impatiens

This is a first. My two containers of impatiens went ballistic this year, and they just keep blooming. I don't think I've ever had them during peak leaf fall. The hares have moved to the porch for the winter, and we are almost battened down.

However. Temperatures dipped well below freezing last night, and the leaves are suddenly almost all on the ground. Jasper and I had a wonderful walk along Flowalonski, which winds along the Messalonskee Stream. 

Jasper in Fall

It is so much easier to enjoy weather that is a bit too cold than it is when it's a bit too hot. Some of it may be psychological; knowing that the planet, and Maine, is warming in a threatening way. But the other part is that you can always put on another layer. Wind and ice complicate that, but we had neither today. Lucky us.

And Jasper, freshly bathed yesterday. Handsome boy with those now strictly cosmetic ears.