Friday, February 17, 2023

Wild Dresses...



Wild Dresses

 I loved making this journal page.  Deb Lacativa's fabrics are such fun.  I really wouldn't mind having a dress like this for my very own.  Millie wouldn't mind if I dressed a bit wild when we walked our trails.


 "The sky appears broader now than it did.  The day has opened its eyelids wider.  The lengthening of the days commenced a good while ago, is a kind of forerunner of spring. ~ Thoreau from his journal Feb. 19, 1852




 "Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon the remembered earth.  He ought to give himself up to a particular landscape in his experience; to look at it from as many angles as he can, to wonder upon it, to dwell upon it.  He ought to imagine that he touches it with his hands at every season and listens to the sounds that are made upon it.  He ought to imagine the creatures there and all the faintest motions of the wind.  He ought to recollect the glare of the moon and the colors of the dawn and dusk." 

~Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams

I love this quote.  I can never quite get enough of this "particular landscape" where Millie and I tread every day.  Even though I photograph the same old spots over and over they are never the same.  Maybe it's the light or the angle or...  I just don't know.





Wednesday, February 1, 2023

February's First Walk...

 











"Be careful!  It's slicker than owl poop out there."  Those were the words of warning I heard as I stepped out the door this morning.  I nodded, wondering where that old expression originated.  Who has ever stepped in owl poop?  Heck, if I knew where there was some, I would immediately head that way in hopes of seeing an owl.

Well, it was slick.  The ground was/is covered in a layer of ice and sleet.  Dan ended up driving in his Gator ahead of me.  His rough terrain tires broke up the ice some which gave me a better toe hold as I walked in his tracks.  Neither Millie nor I fell and busted our tails.  Thank goodness!  We really want to get to that 365-day walk.




January was pretty much the "same ole'bench, same ole' squirrel, same ole giant bowl of spaghetti"*  kind of month. ("from the Oswald cartoon which I used to watch with my little grandson)  

But I did...

Walk the trail with Millie 31 days*** Cook from scratch a zillion meals*** Balance farm accounts and complete tax records***nurse maid a much too cold newborn calf***Paint yard furniture one fine spring like day*** Write in my journal*** Read a couple of books *** Continue with cleaning and rearranging in the house*** start a new doll ***draft a jacket pattern using my favorite old hundred year old one (well almost that old) as inspiration (more on that later).  



Reflections from the kitchen...


"Few people know how to take a walk.  The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, vast curiosity, good speech, good silence, and nothing too much."  

                   ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


I am proud to say that I have all those qualifications, and my walking partner never utters a word (or a bark).


Wednesday, January 25, 2023

Walk #300...

 


Walk #300 was different.  Millie and I loved it, for sure.  A good snowfall around here isn't something that happens often, but when it does we kind of make a big deal of it.  Why, the weather guys have been talking about this one for more than a week.  I can only imagine how many sleds and snow shovels were sold during that time.  I just made sure we had plenty of milk and bread... and bird seeds.


"When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old."

~ Lady Bird Johnson












"We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter morning.  The snow lies warm as cotton or down upon the windowsill; the broadened sash and frosted panes admit a dim and private light, which enhances the snug cheer within.  The stillness of the morning is impressive.  The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields...

                                                                       ~Henry David Thoreau


Friday, January 13, 2023

We make fire...

 



As of today, the new chiminea has now had its first fire.  With Millie's help of course, for she is always with me, I built a fire in this little outdoor fireplace made of terra cotta.   What fun that was for a cold day in January!  Tom Hank's YouTube video here best demonstrates the thrill of it.  Of course, in his case, fire was essential for his survival on that lonely and deserted island, while we only did this for fun.  

I am, in fact, well experienced in the art of making fire (with a lighter or match) having had a wood-burning heating stove for many years.  I love having a warm fire on these cold winter days.









I was really surprised at how much heat the little chiminea made.  Holding my hands above the chimney was a great place to warm them up.  Millie preferred, however, resting in her corner of the shanty.  

It has now been 280 days since we missed walking the trails over our beloved old hill.   I loved the reflections on the pond today.




And, a pretty leaf from a briar vine had fallen to the ground.  Mother Nature surely is a wonderful artist.  




Thursday, January 5, 2023

Hibernating: Week One...

 


Unfinished business..


I have taken up the watercolors once again in an effort to finish last year's journal.  When I realized one of my favorite paintings, The Seamstress, was on the opposite side of this page, I stopped short for fear the paint would leak through and spoil her.  (And it did just a bit in a couple of places but is hardly noticeable after drying. This paper is not designed for water coloring.) 



The Seamstress...
Cloth bows and collar

What with warmer temperatures the first week of the new year, I should think that even the bears would have ventured out to soak up a bit of January's unexpected sunshine. The birds did, for sure, and Millie and I certainly got our share of that glorious shine on our faces. 

Christmas decorations are now packed away for another year.  (And, yes, I did once again make the declaration that this would be the last year that I would put up a large tree.)  The one I packed away, never to be put up again, was frosted with glitter which ended up all over the place, in my hair on the tip of my nose, and even on the cook stove and perhaps in a pot of soup simmering there.  Who would know? 


Early morning gathering on a winter's day...



The Shanty...
Dusted and decorated with dried flowers...

We ventured out yesterday to sweep out the Shanty and stayed a little longer to play around with the dried flowers collected at summer's end.  

The old goose decoy, made of canvas and stuffed with sawdust, prefers to sit in the window and watch the birds at the feeders.  When it's really cold he likes to go inside and sleep in the sewing room with some of the dolls.  



 Goose Decoy...

Created from cloth, sawdust, and paint... 

In places the weave of the canvas cloth and sewing threads are visible. I like that a lot.



January Sunset...



My Millie...


What in your life is calling you, when all the noise is silenced, the meetings adjourned...the lists laid aside, and the wild iris blooms by itself in the dark forest...What still pulls on your soul?

                                                                               ~Rumi