Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I stole this from my neice's blog (Henry's daughter). This is my brother when he was 38. His birthday was Friday so this was taken 21 years ago. The passage of time is an amazing event. This is a great picture. Everyone who reads Jen's blog has seen this, but my friends haven't. He's so skinny! But mostly he's full of joy. This is one of the ways I remember him. I also remember him at 50, which is good because I like calling up the image of how he was when he grew up. And we shared more because we were both grown up. or I was sort of. And he could enjoy the new improved me.
Monday, April 28, 2008
It's PANSY TIME!
Perky little things
Anger eye?
Delta yellow blotch
This year I must restrain myself, though--I have to get my finances in order. Yeah, this from the girl who has ordered a LOT of perennials already.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
natalie
hair
The Mountain
I walked to camp Tuesday after work. Checked on all the buildings (no small task--6 cabins, main camp and my cousin's camp next door). All is well, no trees down, all buildings still standing.
Fred had said the ice might go out that day, but there was a little left.
I just missed the opportunity for a mirror shot of the mountain--the lake was like glass, but the dogs were thrilled to swim and ran ahead. After their swim their fur was really soft and shiny, free of winter's blech and smell. When they got out of the water they ran around really fast and Tess rolled in the duff. I've heard that dogs will roll on the ground when they're wet to make their coats cleaner. But then, I've heard a lot of things.
iceout
proof positive
Large Print?
Special place
Swiss cabin
Anyway, myth has it that Frances did not want a cabin anything like the others so she insisted on hiring different builders. The rest were build by "boys from the mill." Hers was built by Swiss builders, hence the curved roof. Who knows if they were really Swiss, but they were NOT boys from the mill. Anyway, from this angle the cabin looks a little pathetic. It looks as if there should be a witch with an oven for little children inside. It's right on the water, though, so you can hear lake sounds all night. Very dark inside--very dark, sort of like Horrible was.
More water
People here burn their grass in the spring because they believe it will grow back greener. I can sort of see that--it's the equivalent of raking up all that yellow, dead grass. Some of us also have burn barrels to burn our papers in. Guilty, me. We've had several house fires recently, a couple started by grass fires and a couple started by burn barrels. And one started by a grease fire in the kitchen. In that one the woman, in a wheelchair, managed to get 5 cats into their carriers and herd her 4 dogs out the door so all 9 pets were safe. Pretty amazing.
Two of the Town of Jay's fire trucks got stuck in the mud fighting one fire. Funny, but also not so funny. They had to declare a state of emergency so the town could go on private property to retrieve them. Oh, the things you learn in daily life.
Anyway, this is a pretty picture but I have no idea where the river is.
mountains and Saranac
I like discovering things in the frame that I didn't notice when I took the shot (although that is definitely not the sign of a good photographer). I didn't realize how green the trees in the foreground are. The camera distorts the colors, though, so I'm sure they're not that green. The poplars (popples) have tiny leaves (squirrels' ears?) now, so there is green out there for sure.
Friday, April 18, 2008
silhouette
I wish I could say I took this because the silhouettes matched, but it wasn't until I loaded the image that I noticed it. In the foreground is the hill (whose name I forget) that's at the head of Silver Lake. Over its left shoulder is Cranberry Pond. You have to bushwhack to get to it. Ken used to fish there as a boy--he and a friend (here's where I'm embarrassed at failing to remember who it was, having been told this story dozens of times) would go there and spend the night under the boughs of a hemlock tree (hemlocks are one of my favorite trees, their boughs are feathery and the needles sort of drip down). They'd fish for bullhead and always brought back a pailful. Then--now get this--they'd dump the pail into Silver Lake. HAH! Sort of like planting ragweed on an asthmatic's lawn.
Everyone says they used to catch bullhead, but the water is really too cold to sustain a population, at least that's what I think. Anyway, no one has caught a bullhead, I don't think, for a long time. I caught one once, many years ago, fishing in a boat by myself. I yelled ICK! and cut the line, dropping the fish back into the water. Supposedly bullhead have spikes on either side of their heads and the myth is that you have to nail them to a board in order to skin them. Ken has a friend who brings him bullhead pretty often. Marty is a great fisherman, who brings perch, bass, smelt and those awful bullhead for Ken. They're always cleaned and pan-ready. Ken used to ask for bullhead for dinner until I finally told him I DON'T LIKE BULLHEAD. Icky consistency and tastes just like mud. "What? You don't like bullhead?" Anyway, I don't have to eat it anymore.
mystery peaks
Power
Anyway, sometimes there's hardly any water, just a trickle coming over the dam. I wish my family could see it like this. Henry would have really liked it, and Molly would stand on the bridge, listening to the roar and getting wet from the spray. I think JP may have seen it this way
Downstream
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Aw shucks--
No one we know made it.
The Top 25 Blogs "From millions of blogs about nothing, [Time.com has] selected the 25 best about something -- from politics and global affairs to shopping and sports." This "first annual blog index" provides a brief description of each blog, with a link to the blog and to a sample post. From Time.com.URL: http://www.time.com/time/specials/2007/0,28757,1725323,00.html
Monday, April 14, 2008
spring flooding
After I moved here I figured out why he was so interested in spring flooding. It's a big deal here. Every night on the news they report which rivers (and Lake Champlain) are near flood level, how many feet they are from flood level, and which roads are closed or dangerous. Sort of like an invitation to curiosity seekers like my father to hurry up, get in your car and get out there to take a look.
The AuSable River runs through the middle of AuSable Forks and very, very often runs over its banks when the ice goes out or the snowmelt comes down from the mountains. Right now the river is very high and the news reported some flooding in the Forks. Lake Champlain has reached flood level as well. Sometimes when this happens and the ice is just going out the water will deposit huge (I mean HUGE) chunks of ice on land, often in people's yards. The ice will be 1-2 feet thick and the chunks are sometimes 10 feet wide. I've always been happy not to live near a river. Some people get flooded out over and over but still live next to the river.
People do the same thing my father did in the Midwest--go for drives to check out the rivers. Running the roads is a year-round pastime here, but traffic really picks up in the spring. No, REALLY picks up. Especially Sunday afternoons. The road in front of Ken's gets really busy. Really busy being a relative term, of course.
trees in water
river is wide
we're on a road to nowhere
Willis house
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Kansas came back from nine down in the final furious seconds. Kansas beat Memphis 75-68 in overtime. The Jayhawks are national champions
View from the dam at the foot of Union Falls, the next lake over from Silver Lake. It goes Taylor Pond, Silver Lake, Union Falls. Taylor Pond and Union Falls were created by dams. Anyway, this shows the process of iceout. The ice gets dark, you get excited, then there's open water. Silver Lake's ice is starting to get dark. That means the snow on top has melted. Yahoo! My date for the iceout pool is April 18. Ken and I went through the dates last night and he said probably no one has a real chance until around the 20th (he thinks). I said I hope it's the 20th because that's Bill's date. Ken is the judge. Every granule of ice must be out of the lake before a winner can be declared, and only Ken can decide when that is.
The mountain in the background is Catamount. The children in my family were always discouraged (if not forbidden) from climbing Catamount because "Doctor Webster's sister died climbing that mountain." Turns out tons of my friends routinely climb that mountain and Henry and Jenica climbed it, and no one died. It also turns out that Dr. Webster and his sister were bushwhacking, fooling around and not on the trail, she slipped on some rocks and yes, she did fall to her death. So much for terrifying children with horror stories.
The hill in the foreground is rocky bluffs on the other side and they are at the head of Silver Lake. They're famous--we've all been "up the bluffs" a gazillion times. There's a really pretty view from there. The boardwalk trail continues beyond to the top of the bluffs. I love looking down on the lake, watching the waves and even (sometimes) boaters. The fall color from there used to be spectacular. Not so great now, some logging's been done.
Looking up the Saranac River from the Cadyville beach. This is one of the last spots where the ice goes out. Most of the river upstream is flowing along. The river's high from spring runoff, really cool to see. Cadyvill beach is where we took our canoes out when we went on those famous canoe trips. It's also famous to Liza and me because it's where I left my brand new Docksiders when I was in college. I loved those shoes and was so proud of them--I bought them at the Sperry outlet in Naugatuck, Conn. with my friend Teddy.
Teddy was a lot of fun. My roomate Sally and I helped him get through college. We were pretty sure he had a reading disability so we used to take what he'd written for a paper and turn it into a real paper. Teddy drove Formula 4 race cars (the Indy 500 cars are Formula 1). His hero was Peter Revson, who was killed during a race while we were in college. That was really sad. Teddy used to sign his Christmas cards "Peter Revson."
Sally and I were roomates all four years of college but ours was not a good relationship. She was from Ohio so we had our childhoods sort of in common. The first 3 years were great and we had a great time. We had a love/hate relationship our senior year and it was terribly difficult. We knew we cared deeply for each other but we'd lost the ability to communicate and there were other relationships that complicated things. After college it got even worse. First we got an apartment in Bridgeport (where we went to college), then we both found other places to live with other people (I lived in a great house in Westport with Teddy and another friend). Things got worse. Sally went to law school and I went to library school and we saw each other once. Sally died in a car accident on her way home from school her second year in law school. It was such a hard thing for me to deal with, and I didn't fly to Cleveland for her funeral. That was when I learned that it's good to go to a person's funeral because, though you may not be glad you did, there's always a chance you'll regret it if you don't. It would have meant a lot to her parents if I'd gone, and it would have meant a lot to me if I'd gone. For years I had a hard time accepting her death. I think of her fairly often and wish I could share my life experiences with her.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
spring!
indecision
March sun
funny man
I have good news: because of the new diagnosis of AD*D we're going to try dropping one of the meds I've been taking since 2002. One that may be responsible for my inability to lose weight. LET'S HOPE SO. And let's ignore the obvious lack of exercise as the chief reason. Anyway, starting to taper off today and it will take about 6 weeks to rid body of evil substance, cutting down 20 mg a week. Cannot wait and extremely hopeful I won't notice a change of demeanor.
Courtesty of Dooce:
Why aim for perfection when approximation is so much easier?
I love that. I think that's my life's motto. I've never thought I could even come close to perfection. The closest I ever considered I made it was with my baskets. I made some really beautiful ones. I have a talent for basketweaving and had a thriving business in the early 90's. Long story about that--attempt to have me do that full-time, etc. Of course it never worked out because I knew, even if J. wouldn't admit it, that we couldn't live without my librarian's salary and health insurance. But I digress. I love the process of making baskets, the emergence of something complex and totally different from what you start with. Most people can't figure out how baskets are made. Like putting together a Turkish puzzle ring. My siblings and I were adept at doing that from the age of 4, having lived in Turkey. My sister and I could do 8-band puzzle rings in a matter of seconds. Dubious distinction, that.
Anyway, baskets are great and I'm proud to be able to make some that are nearly perfect. Every one has a flaw, small maybe, but a flaw. Which is also great, proof that it's my work. People say that baskets can only be made by hand--there is no machine that can weave a basket. Who knows whether that's true or not, but think of the millions of baskets for sale in this country alone. Made by political prisoners in China, by poor women in Malaysia, by Mexican villagers. And still I buy some from time to time, just because I like their shapes, or the way they're woven. I tell myself it's time to start weaving again but I'm afraid weaving represents a certain sadness to me, a time in my life when expectations weren't met and there was too much disappointment. Plus the obvious: I was weaving daily from 6-midnight and all weekend. For wholesale prices. But I was proud of my work.