Late summer and the raspberries are. . .

 

Spectacular. This is year 3 for my raspberries, and Joan J is a wonder. These little jewels make diamonds look pedestrian, don't they? Somehow, I don't think that "Raspberries are a girl's best friend" will be a hit, though.

Several things about this mostly cool wet summer have surprised me. Some haven't. The very poor tomato season wasn't surprising. I canned 3 quarts today, and don't think I'll have any more from my little patch, though the cherry tomatoes are still going gangbusters. The green beans (Blue Lake) continue to hold forth. That's a big surprise given previous years' behavior. We're actually getting increasing numbers of beans now, whereas last year I had pulled them all out by now.

Likewise, the later cultivars of blueberries continue to deliver in small amounts. This is ok, though. I simply add them to the fruit I have in the freezer, and will pull them out once the winter is here for jam or pie. It's amazing how this small amount 3 times/week add up!

I haven't had any time for the studio, which makes me very sad. I have several pieces that need to be waxed and glazed, but need to have a block of time for that. I just haven't had it.

Hiking must go on, of course, because it's Jasper's time to shine. It also forces me to do something other than harvest and preserve. Harvest and Preserve. Harvest and preserve. My lovely consort and spouse caught these images of some really amazing mushrooms. The 3rd Kingdom. The image to the left isn't complete clear, until you see the image below, which focuses on just one of these black trumpet mushrooms. I have no idea if that's the proper name for them. Are they cool or what?

Then there are these cool orange guys. Maine always seems to have a plethora of mushrooms during the not-snow season, but this year's wetter seasons really brought them out.

On the hiking front, Jasper and I made it down to the rock on Messalonskee the other day, and I thought I'd record the view. What you can't see in this image is the loon that went paddling by in front of me. Small gifts.

The last bit is about a new resident here at the Highland House. I finally got this Rose of Sharon planted. I had a good hand wringing session over it, because I didn't know if my back would tolerate the small retaining wall, and much bigger amount of soil, compost and peat moss that I wanted to incorporate into the planting hole. As usual, it was easier to Just Do It than it was to contemplate/worry about the possible consequences. Two days later my back is fine, I'm a little muscle sore, and life will continue on as before.

Putting by. . .

 

I have often thought that I must have starved in a previous life, because not only am I focused on saving our garden food for later, but I also go to almost ridiculous lengths to not waste anything. Anything.

However, if we really did have previous lives, then there's a good chance that most of us starved at one time or another, so I'm hardly unique if that's the case. It is a marvel of our time. . .our civilization. . .that so many of us don't have to spend every waking hour either getting food, or figuring out how to feed ourselves through the winter. 

When I was writing grant proposals for our sustainable agriculture work, I opened with a sentence something like "Civilization is only possible once a sustainable food source is secured." [Actually, I think I was more articulate than that back then, but you get the idea. . . ]

So. The harvest goes on. Tomorrow, more peaches, tomatoes (which are looking very ragged indeed), raspberries, green beans, zucchini, eggplant, and a dribbling of blueberries. Since everything takes me longer, I'm a little anxious about getting all of this food in shape to can, freeze, dry or. . .yes. . . EAT. We're a little overwhelmed on that last one right now. Two old codgers can only eat so much, even when it's this good. . .

On other fronts, I saw this mushroom while Jasper was exercising me the other day, and it struck me that I think I subconsciously copied it in a couple of new porcelain pieces I'm working on.

It's funny how these images go into your head, and come out altered, but still recognizable. I think that's why artists often feel they're being copied. Images go in, and come out slightly (or very) differently than the original, but they are still recognizable.

This mug is still in the greenware stage, so it will have to survive 2 firings and me glazing it before it will be a useful object. The porcelain is first thrown, handle made and attached, and then a technique called slip-trailing applied, using a steady hand, piece held tentatively on a piece of foam, dots of thinned down clay applied through a squeeze bottle. And all the while hoping not to break the tender thing.

Below is a case in point. I threw this lovely little bowl, embellished it with the applique leaves, and then lifted it to set it aside in a safe place, putting my thumb through the dried clay. I have done this particular stupid thing before, so you'd think I would learn. But in my absent minded get-it-to-a-safer-place state, I applied a little too much pressure to the rim. 

 

This fragility at the greenware stage is so different from my more extensive experience in working with metals and vitreous enamel. I need to constantly remind myself that anything I make can be broken at any stage (though this earliest stage is the most vulnerable). 

But clay things break when dropped. A mug lip that has been knocked against the faucet may crack at that point sometime later. Clay only allows for so much "preciousness". It is a utilitarian medium that demands a little respect. Even the well-named stoneware is breakable, though not so easily as porcelain. Drop a stoneware bowl on a tile floor, though, and it's history.

Full Swing

 

Harvest 14 August 2024 (except bananas)

So. This morning's harvest (minus the bananas, but plus some blueberries that went right into the freezer) is shown here. Yes! The peaches are coming in. The evidence of my inadequate peach thinning is clear from the small peach size, but they are tasty, and will be a nice size for canning. 

Notice that the fall-bearing raspberries are just beginning. My favorite. And the sauce in the bowl is my beloved Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce. The first batch.

The tomato crop is not promising, unfortunately. Late blight (I think) has come early, and the visible crop is light, especially on the Early Girls. My lovely consort and spouse reminds me that we still have a couple of months of harvest to go, so I'm hoping that this prediction will prove wrong. After all, it is the things you worry about that don't come about, while it's the things you never thought of that bite you in the butt. It can turn on a dime.

Great Pond from the top of French Mountain

On other positive topics, the weather has been breathtaking. Jasper and I made the drive to French Mountain, and not only was it cool and bright, but the deer flies have receded. Likely temporary, but let us enjoy it while we can.

Tree, sun and hawk

I keep meaning to bring a thermos of tea and some crumpets and dog biscuits so we can take a few minutes at the top to enjoy the view. Somehow I never remember to do that, though. I will endeavor to do better.

Morning hike=happiness

I'll try to be more mindful. And will sign off after this short entry because I'm tired and it's summer, and the livin' is easy.

 

Embellishments

There's no escaping it. The weather has been dreadful. Mostly cloudy, with 95% relative humidity, and temperatures high enough to multiply the effect of the overall wetness. My cotton dresses feel damp after working in the garden, or even walking Jasper, and when we eat lunch outside my fingers are sticky. They no longer work to swipe the electronic devices. Ha. They get stuck on the screen. Well, leave the devices inside, I guess.

So. I am determined, in spite of the above rant, to take what loveliness I can from this period. This vase, inspired by Life in the Studio by Frances Palmer, has me giddy with it's lovely presentation. I have tended toward bud vases in the past. . .tall thin ones that are wider at the bottom, narrower at the top. I could not have predicted how well the garden's current offerings would do in this reverse format. I included some very long lemon grass leaves (because they needed removing. . .they were crowding out the other herbs, and keeping the already wet soil wetter. . .) and you may notice the viburnum berries as well. I love the process of gathering these treasures as much as I enjoy looking at the product. I think there may be a series of these vases in the offing.

For now, though, I'm putting together some pieces that will likely sell well for my various non-profits. This Rhubarb Leaf platter is one of them. It's the largest piece I can fit into my kiln. . .about 16" long. The rhubarb leaf may be poisonous, but she makes a wicked impression on clay. We all have our pluses and minuses. And humans, it turns out, are great poisoners as well. Small sigh.

Another leaf inspired piece, this is a large Striped Maple leaf dish. It's not that large, though. . . only about 6" across, so it doesn't challenge my kiln with its size.

Finally, a bit of news. I launched my new website a couple of days ago. Let me know if you see any mistakes. I've never used WIX before, and it is not the most intuitive of platforms. 

http://www.LouisesLeapStudios.com

 

July on the way out. . .

 

Yesterday's harvest is somewhat typical for this time of year. The cherry tomatoes are just starting, and the summer raspberries are on their way out. I'm picking the zucchini early because I've had such trouble with rot on them as they grow larger. I'm pretty sure this is related to our inordinate amount of rain. Green beans continue to dribble in, though with a couple of days harvest we get enough for a side at dinner, and several days gives me enough to freeze for the future. The blueberries have been fairly steady, with the early ones just about done, but the later varieties now starting to earnestly bear.

All as it should be. I do forget, from year to year, how slow the harvest season is to get going here. The peaches won't be in until August, and the apples late October.

The primo-cane bearing raspberries are in full bloom right now, and it's amazing to see the variety of bees that are attracted to their sweet nectar.

I sent the image on the right to a horticultural friend who knows more about insects than I do. That's a small bee. . .maybe half the size of a honey bee. . .and it's iridescent black. Really a handsome species, but I have no idea who it is. My old knowledge tells me that honey and bumble bees are the best pollinators, but it will be interesting to see if my friend knows anything about this guy.

Other things of note today:

I'm pretty sure this hydrangea was blue last year. So I'm wondering if something acidified the soil around it to make it pink? Or is this just some sort of daft dog-lady illusion? I's a joy to look at closely, regardless.

Another hydrangea surprise. I have several of these along the back of one of the beds here. I don't remember it showing pink before. More pink! I do remember  it being white. So here's a thought. Maybe there's a pink fairy that's testing my sanity. I'm not complaining, of course. While I don't go out of my way for most pinks, these are quite agreeable.

The cherry tomatoes. Those stakes are 8' tall. They are filling out well, and their fruit has been developed from the bottom up. Lots of bending over in the garden, as usual, which will put the new spine to the test.

The apples are coming along beautifully. These are on the tree that has slightly larger fruit. . .Macoun. It made for wonderful sauce, pies and dried slices last year. I AM looking forward to that, though as my mother used to say "Don't wish your life away. . ."

Lastly, a revisiting of the double-file viburnums. I thank the former owners and/or the landscaper they hired for planting these beauties. Because my expertise is all centered around food crops, I would not have know to plant a mass of these along the side of the house. They just keep giving. I posted the ranks of white flowers on them in previous posts, but I don't remember the berries being quite so lovely in previous years.

I'm thinking that the birds will love these, but I'll need to look that up. 

It is funny how memory does and doesn't work. My gardening journal (an old-fashioned one with paper and pencil entries) helps me go back to see when what happened in a given year, but I don't tend to include things like the Double-file viburnum berries. As frustrating as my poor memory can be, it is absolutely wonderful to experience something like this anew. . .it gives that sort of burst of feeling. The intake of a sharp breath. The increased heart rate. "That is so beautiful, and I am so lucky".

Hot and humid with a chance of raspberries and green beans

Oh my dear sad Maine. It is hot and humid and nearly unbearable outside. Mornings find me racing home from Jasper's walk to do everything I can in the garden before I slink into the house to hide from the heat.

What have we done, oh Humans?

But. The flowers go on. As do the raspberries. . . and the green beans are also bearing nicely. Tomatoes have set fruit but there is no sign of red color just yet. 

 It is definitely the season for the Day Lilies to shine. We have everything from the demure orange wild type to the wonky "look-at-me"s. The hydrangeas are also starting to come into their own, but they will (I hope) be plugging along well after the day lilies are spent.

The vase is one of John's Grandmother's cut glass vases. Tall, cylindrical and very heavy. Classy, I think.

Hostas also continue to bloom. The image on the right is backlit, so you can't see it terribly well, but it's a favorite bud vase type. Tall, narrow, embellished with botanical icons.

And speaking of vases that I make, the weather has me retreating into the cool of my studio. I've been slow to get back to making, but it's amazing the work that accrues if one makes a piece a day. . .maybe two pieces a day. 

Anyone who has read much of this online journal knows that glazing is Not my favorite aspect of making pottery. I bristle when it takes me longer to glaze than it does to make the pot! I LOVE making the form. . . getting my hands and brain immersed in that process. Seeing if I can bend the clay to my will, or if she will have her way with me.

But here's the thing. With these last (accrued) pieces, I spent a lot of time with glazing. I estimate that the glazing took me 3 times as long as making the pot did. So it shouldn't be a surprise that the glaze looks a lot better than it previous batches. There is still an unexpected aspect to opening the kiln. But this time it was less of a groan, and more of an "Oh! That sort of worked!"

Example 1. A dish made from a Striped Maple leaf. Bark brown and Arctic blue glaze, fired at cone 5.

I'm measuring the temperature in my kiln on various shelves using sentinel cones. It turns out that the arrangement of the kiln shelves makes a big difference in variation in temperature from place to place in the kiln.

That's not a great thing, since it means that I can't stack shelves over each other when I need to glaze 2 large pieces. Still. It's good to know, and will prevent the devastation of overheated glaze that pinholes and makes the work worthless.

The bowl to the right is one I really love. It's my biggest successful bowl to date, which started with 4 pounds of clay, and measures about 9 inches in diameter. The glaze was an overlapping dip technique. Worked well, I think

This is a slightly larger version of an earlier mug. Now it's a set! The glaze is Coyote Green Matt, and the brown drip is made with a rim dip of Ancient Jasper. The Ancient Jasper has been a recurring theme, as many of you will note, in my work. It's a funny glaze. If the rim is just dipped a tiny bit, it runs down the piece and mingles with the base glaze. It also does a great job of highlighting texture in a piece, since it sinks into the low spots.

This last piece is hand-built, and inspired by a book by potter Frances Palmer called In the Studio. I've had the book for ages, but was able to read it from cover to cover during my recovery. The impressions were made by a lovely little weed that I picked up on one of our evening walks. I also made a bisque stamp, so you may see this motif again!

The State of The Garden

Visitors start coming in tomorrow, so I wanted to slip in an update to the state of things outdoors here at Highland House. 

 I have been encouraging white clover to take over our lawn. By encouraging, I mean I haven't been doing anything to encourage the grass. . .no fertilizer or herbicide for 3 years now. Clover prefers soil with a higher pH, and it's a fairly aggressive colonizer. But grass, with it's intercalary meristerm (are you impressed that I remembered that?) is also a wicked good competitor, especially if the area is mowed. We do mow because we like the walk-ability of it, as well as the fact that mowing discourages ticks. But. Look what our "lawn" has done. It is full of honey bees, too. John and I watch them from the patio every evening. We had poor pollination on our apples this year, and I'm hoping that this cover crop will help next year. Truth be told, though, I think it was the cool rainy weather during pollination, rather than a lack of bees. We also have a ton of bumble bees, who are also big players in the pollination game.

The blueberries are starting to blue up a little bit. I had a couple of ripe ones the other day, and we'll have to compete with the chipmunks for the honor of consuming them. But last year we had a decent crop, even while sharing with our cheeky neighbors.

The apples, though a little sparse, are also coming along well, though our Macouns and McIntosh weren't ready to harvest until October last year. I love watching them. I wander about in the yard at least once a day, and check on everyone.

The peaches are also coming along nicely. We harvested last year in late July, so they may not be far off. I don't know what cultivar they are, but they were way tasty. 

I have also planted 2 Stanley plums. It was a bit of a mistake, really. I had intended to only plant one, but it was devoid of leaves for my fall planting last year (due to smoke in Oregon where it was grown). It was late coming out of dormancy, so the company sent me a replacement. 

We're a couple of years off from any crop, but I have a plum cake recipe that will be Very Happy when they do finally come in. Plantspeople (as opposed to the old "Plantsmen") are such optimists. While I realize that I may never see my Dawn Redwood mature fully, it doesn't even occur to me that I might not be around for the plums in a few years. Smile. No guarantees, of course, and maybe it's just because plums are FOOD, and I'm not willing to consider not eating them

The Kilarney raspberries are in. I'll have a really decent harvest tomorrow, just before the company gets in. I was ready to pull them out and replace them with the primocane bearer JoanJ last year. They were small and flavorless, and quite light in color. 

The crop looks much better this year. Abundant, for one thing. The color is still light, but they are decent sized and quite tasty. They must have heard my threat.

Ornamental activity includes the ongoing forget-me-nots. They are such little heros. Their sweet little flowers may make some underestimate them, but they are formidable competitors. I have some involved in a Darwinian struggle with some volunteer ferns (also easy to underestimate), and it's not clear who will win. The ferns are also having a go with my mint, of all things. Who give mint a run for its money? Don't mess with mint. . .

I do absolutely nothing with this clematis, other than occasionally straightening that little metal support, which is still leaning against the wall where it was when we bought the house. I don't prune it, dead head it. . .nada. And so far, for 3 years, it just comes back and grows and blooms in the sun. Talk about optimism. Oh that I could require so little care. . .

The hydrangeas are just getting warmed up. The smaller white ones are really pushing the blooms now, and the foliage looks healthy.

Rhubarb continues on, though it's showing some signs of tiring. Some of the lower leaves are wilting (some have lawnmower blight), and surprisingly, I'm not seeing any flowers. That's not a disappointment, of course, but it's a little surprising. I should make a cake for the visitors.

Lastly, the asparagus are in full feather as well. These fronds make such wonderful additions to floral arrangements, which I try to keep in the house this time of year. The weather was exceptionally humid today, though not terribly hot. Thank goodness. But having blooms indoors with me is just a balm when we close the doors and turn on the heat pumps. We'll throw them open in the morning, and enjoy the air, and the easy transit between indoors and out for as long as we can.

Look What I Found. . .

 Worth repeating. . .especially the dance numbers. . .

48 hours later

 

They come and go so quickly, these peonies. I love this white one, that I grew from a root piece. Unfortunately I have no idea who she is, though the 'Sarah Bernhardt's are coming along soon. In Pennsylvania I grew peonies by the armload. I haven't had that good fortune in any other place, though they did well enough in Boise.They seem to struggle a bit in the sandier higher pH soils in our current garden.

 

 

 

 

 

So for the first time this year, I decided to put together some flowers to bring indoors. I do this less and less. I like enjoying them outdoors, but it also feels so Civilized to arrange them. Bring them into our world for a bit. Our Honeysuckle is blooming and growing crazy. . . she's the orange specimen. And the Siberian Iris' are especially prolific this year.

They're arranged in John's Grandmother's cut glass vase.

 

Industrial strength rhubarb

 

 

While we're at it, I'll show you a couple of other images. The rhubarb is out of control. They have the biggest stalks and leaves I've ever seen. I want to make a rhubarb platter using one of the leaves as a pattern, but I'm not quite up to that much clay. 

And the potatoes (below, front row) were so pitiful early on, but they're outpacing the tomatoes now. Food Glorious Food. Love that stuff.