These photos were all taken within less than two days. First a beautiful fall day followed by a stunning sunset. The next day brought the mist and drizzle we've been having ever since. And so we transition to sweater and soup weather!
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
autumn is really here now
I can't seem to stop myself from taking lots of pictures of our area at this time of year. The mood of the weather and landscape change so quickly...
These photos were all taken within less than two days. First a beautiful fall day followed by a stunning sunset. The next day brought the mist and drizzle we've been having ever since. And so we transition to sweater and soup weather!
These photos were all taken within less than two days. First a beautiful fall day followed by a stunning sunset. The next day brought the mist and drizzle we've been having ever since. And so we transition to sweater and soup weather!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
walking
The other day, after dropping my daughter off at school, I met a friend and went for a walk. I finally managed to capture the autumn mist rising on the hillsides in this old cemetery.
I just love the peacefulness of this place with its rolling hills, winding paths, majestic trees and gurgling brook. And the gentle quality of the sunlight at this time of year just adds to its loveliness.
There are so many graves, some of them quite old. There are family plots and lovely statues. It makes you wonder about their stories. How did they get along? Did they have a good life? Were they happy? Hmm, a reflective walk. Thinking about these things while talking to a friend about some challenging family dynamics adds a certain sense of perspective.
Leaving the cemetery, we walked past this joyous statue. Can I have one of these on my grave? I'd love to be able to put a smile on someone's face after I'm gone.....
It seems to me that in autumn, the light becomes so much more precious, as there is so much less of it. Light and shadows are crisp and clear, hopeful and tender. I'm glad for my camera. It helps me notice the small and important things in life.
I just love the peacefulness of this place with its rolling hills, winding paths, majestic trees and gurgling brook. And the gentle quality of the sunlight at this time of year just adds to its loveliness.
There are so many graves, some of them quite old. There are family plots and lovely statues. It makes you wonder about their stories. How did they get along? Did they have a good life? Were they happy? Hmm, a reflective walk. Thinking about these things while talking to a friend about some challenging family dynamics adds a certain sense of perspective.
Leaving the cemetery, we walked past this joyous statue. Can I have one of these on my grave? I'd love to be able to put a smile on someone's face after I'm gone.....
It seems to me that in autumn, the light becomes so much more precious, as there is so much less of it. Light and shadows are crisp and clear, hopeful and tender. I'm glad for my camera. It helps me notice the small and important things in life.
Wishing you many light-filled autumn days.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
completed projects
I had great plans for having a super-crafty summer, but somehow that never did quite pan out, at least not in terms of volume. But I'm happy that I have finally finished my Buddha picture, which I think I started in March.
I am quite happy with how it came out. With this piece, I had the idea of warm colors, lots of textures and a buddha. I began with some sanskrit text printouts (from the Baghavad Gita which I began to read this summer) and I made some textured "Om" symbols which I pasted on the canvas. Then I used stencils, scrapers, bubble wrap and lots of gel medium to created a textured background. I painted in various hues from yellow to purple, and finally I added the buddha, the mandalas, and the little squirley vines. Perhaps I've gotten a little carried away with the busy of it all, but I like how this sense of movement enhances the stillness of the buddha.
The buddha is painted from a transfer of a photo I took of the statue in my garden. The mandalas are all designed by me and based on the six division of the circle. Spending a day designing them brought me back to my love of geometry.
I also was finally able to talk the Man into helping me thread my serger properly so I could sew again. I spent a few very frustrating hours trying to do it myself, but somehow the tension was always way off. Of course the Man sat down and got it right the first time... and I was finally able to sew myself the skirt I've been thinking about for a year now...
I love the cheerful mix of colors and patterns, and the t-shirt fabric makes it super comfortable. Of course the girls are already requesting theirs, so there'll be more to come soon!
I am quite happy with how it came out. With this piece, I had the idea of warm colors, lots of textures and a buddha. I began with some sanskrit text printouts (from the Baghavad Gita which I began to read this summer) and I made some textured "Om" symbols which I pasted on the canvas. Then I used stencils, scrapers, bubble wrap and lots of gel medium to created a textured background. I painted in various hues from yellow to purple, and finally I added the buddha, the mandalas, and the little squirley vines. Perhaps I've gotten a little carried away with the busy of it all, but I like how this sense of movement enhances the stillness of the buddha.
I also was finally able to talk the Man into helping me thread my serger properly so I could sew again. I spent a few very frustrating hours trying to do it myself, but somehow the tension was always way off. Of course the Man sat down and got it right the first time... and I was finally able to sew myself the skirt I've been thinking about for a year now...
I love the cheerful mix of colors and patterns, and the t-shirt fabric makes it super comfortable. Of course the girls are already requesting theirs, so there'll be more to come soon!
Monday, September 10, 2012
early september morning
Some days we wake up in a thick cloud now. The thick fog gives no indication of the kind of day it's going to be, so as I'm driving to school I don't know what awaits when I go back up that long hill from town. Some days the surprise is so breathtaking, it makes me happy all over. Like today...
Wishing you all a beautiful September week!
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| Sedum is my new favorite flower. It gently changes from white to yellow to pink, and the Monarch butterflies love it's nectar at this time of year. |
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| Asparagus with dewdrops |
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| Found this perfectly beaded spiderweb in the side yard. |
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| Early fall foliage on the road. |
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| A thin veil of mist remains |
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| It was a spiderweb-by morning |
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| Black-eyed Susan with dew |
Wishing you all a beautiful September week!
Friday, September 7, 2012
later summer getaways
This summer we didn't go away on a vacation as a family, but we did take a few day trips in Vermont, New Hampshire and Massachusetts.
The Montshire Museum of Science is worth a trip, even with older children. There are tons of fun indoor exhibits with math challenges, giant bubbles, magnets, ant and bee colonies, but there is also an outdoor water park and fun walking trails.
If you ask the children about their favorite part, they would probably say that they loved to play in the water. But my favorite was walking the trails to the Connecticut River, picking up acorns, listening to the bird calls and telling stories. It seems that in our family we like to make up stories. If we see something along the trail that we wonder about, we all make up a story of what might have happened. Often these little tales turn out to be a lot more interesting and fun than the actual facts behind the phenomena. We get silly with the stories, and making them up connects us in so many different ways. I also love how each one of us comes to it differently. Often one of us will ask a question, then a hypothesis is added by Zany. Usually Elvin will add details about a similar occurrence in a novel she's read, and from there the story takes off, among many giggles and occasional disagreements over details. To this day my children recall a walk around a lake many years ago where we found a mushroom covered log and turned it into a restaurant, with fairies flitting around serving sorrel salad and dewdrop tea. The children may not have learned anything about the mushrooms or the forest that day, but they deeply care about wild places where magical things just may occur.
Of course summer break is not complete unless we go to the beach. And as always, we left that day thinking we should have done it sooner and more often. As someone who really struggles to let everything go, it was so therapeutic to sit under an umbrella to read and nap, watch the children play in the (way too cold) water, go for walks, watch the wildlife and eat yummy sandwiches brought from home. Oh, yes, we will be doing that again next summer, and more than once! There's nothing more restorative than feeling the sand between your toes, watching and listening to the seabirds, seals and boats, walking among the sea grass and hopping over waves. Then at the end of the day, we all piled into the car tired and happy, and someone remarked how we would be coming back next year. And in that promise lay all the acceptance that summer must come to an end and we are just a few short weeks away from short days, fires in the stove and lots of warm layers.
The Montshire Museum of Science is worth a trip, even with older children. There are tons of fun indoor exhibits with math challenges, giant bubbles, magnets, ant and bee colonies, but there is also an outdoor water park and fun walking trails.
If you ask the children about their favorite part, they would probably say that they loved to play in the water. But my favorite was walking the trails to the Connecticut River, picking up acorns, listening to the bird calls and telling stories. It seems that in our family we like to make up stories. If we see something along the trail that we wonder about, we all make up a story of what might have happened. Often these little tales turn out to be a lot more interesting and fun than the actual facts behind the phenomena. We get silly with the stories, and making them up connects us in so many different ways. I also love how each one of us comes to it differently. Often one of us will ask a question, then a hypothesis is added by Zany. Usually Elvin will add details about a similar occurrence in a novel she's read, and from there the story takes off, among many giggles and occasional disagreements over details. To this day my children recall a walk around a lake many years ago where we found a mushroom covered log and turned it into a restaurant, with fairies flitting around serving sorrel salad and dewdrop tea. The children may not have learned anything about the mushrooms or the forest that day, but they deeply care about wild places where magical things just may occur.
Of course summer break is not complete unless we go to the beach. And as always, we left that day thinking we should have done it sooner and more often. As someone who really struggles to let everything go, it was so therapeutic to sit under an umbrella to read and nap, watch the children play in the (way too cold) water, go for walks, watch the wildlife and eat yummy sandwiches brought from home. Oh, yes, we will be doing that again next summer, and more than once! There's nothing more restorative than feeling the sand between your toes, watching and listening to the seabirds, seals and boats, walking among the sea grass and hopping over waves. Then at the end of the day, we all piled into the car tired and happy, and someone remarked how we would be coming back next year. And in that promise lay all the acceptance that summer must come to an end and we are just a few short weeks away from short days, fires in the stove and lots of warm layers.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
chasing summer
Last week this here mama got severely itchy feet. I couldn't sit still, focus on my children, enjoy all that I usually do. I needed to go somewhere, away. Not sure what I was looking for, I declared I needed a "mama day," grabbed my camera, some snacks and water, and off I drove. First I poked around a couple of old antique stores.
I love going into these little old houses stuffed to the rafters with milk glass, door hinges, china, linens, furniture and myriad items I cannot begin to identify. I only bought an old window this time which will be turned into a cold frame come next spring. I thought that maybe what I'm looking for I will find in a little town (one with a good bakery, perhaps?)
I am still enchanted by the little white homes you find scattered throughout small New England towns. They are often decorated with flower gardens, or flags like this one. After living in the suburbs for so many years, I still think of these as "real" houses. They have held so many lives within them. Happy memories, sad occasions, many, many meals shared, children arriving and leaving to make their own lives. Somehow it always seems that these houses have held onto some of the history of their inhabitants and have become just a little ensouled themselves. I keep thinking of what stories they might tell if they could...
Well, the bakery was closed that day, so I kept on driving along winding country roads.
I stopped near a swamp. There are places like this all over. They always come as a little surprise, when you suddenly leave the shady forest and come out into the sunshine. I keep hoping that one day I will see a moose in one of these spots. But not today.
The cold water in the brooks and streams is still inviting in late August while the days are still hot. But in the late afternoon a little chill begins to creep in, so no wading for me this time...
As I kept driving along a small road lined with an old stone wall overgrown with ferns, I kept yearning to see the sunlight slant just so through the trees. And then I realized what I had been looking for all this time: the last of the summer sun, still warm but already lower in the sky. It is the kind of light you want to pocket to pull out and remember in February, this delicate brightness that brings with it long shadows and makes the time-worn deep greens of the forest so luminous and lively. I had come all this way, driving, to load up on sunlight, the kind that we will not see again until April or May next year. This light tells me that it's almost time to think about soups and wool socks and layers, but not quite. Summer is leaving, but I'll be holding on to every last ray of sunshine until it's gone.
I love going into these little old houses stuffed to the rafters with milk glass, door hinges, china, linens, furniture and myriad items I cannot begin to identify. I only bought an old window this time which will be turned into a cold frame come next spring. I thought that maybe what I'm looking for I will find in a little town (one with a good bakery, perhaps?)
I am still enchanted by the little white homes you find scattered throughout small New England towns. They are often decorated with flower gardens, or flags like this one. After living in the suburbs for so many years, I still think of these as "real" houses. They have held so many lives within them. Happy memories, sad occasions, many, many meals shared, children arriving and leaving to make their own lives. Somehow it always seems that these houses have held onto some of the history of their inhabitants and have become just a little ensouled themselves. I keep thinking of what stories they might tell if they could...
Well, the bakery was closed that day, so I kept on driving along winding country roads.
I stopped near a swamp. There are places like this all over. They always come as a little surprise, when you suddenly leave the shady forest and come out into the sunshine. I keep hoping that one day I will see a moose in one of these spots. But not today.
The cold water in the brooks and streams is still inviting in late August while the days are still hot. But in the late afternoon a little chill begins to creep in, so no wading for me this time...
As I kept driving along a small road lined with an old stone wall overgrown with ferns, I kept yearning to see the sunlight slant just so through the trees. And then I realized what I had been looking for all this time: the last of the summer sun, still warm but already lower in the sky. It is the kind of light you want to pocket to pull out and remember in February, this delicate brightness that brings with it long shadows and makes the time-worn deep greens of the forest so luminous and lively. I had come all this way, driving, to load up on sunlight, the kind that we will not see again until April or May next year. This light tells me that it's almost time to think about soups and wool socks and layers, but not quite. Summer is leaving, but I'll be holding on to every last ray of sunshine until it's gone.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
thai comfort curry
I've always been fascinated by the foods people reach for when they seek comfort. The stereotypical American comfort foods of donuts or french fries or potato chips and the likes have never held appeal for me. Instead, I think I was influenced more than a little by spending a few of my formative years in Asia. Thai food is my number one comfort food, partly because I love the mixture of coconut, basil and spice, and partly because it is quick and easy to make.
Tonight I found myself home alone after a very active day out of the house, so I didn't much feel like putting much effort into dinner or eating cereal. This meal is wonderful because it comes together so quickly and still tastes so wonderfully fresh and nutritious.
Ingredients:
Thai curry paste of your choice (available at Asian markets and many supermarkets)
1 14 oz can coconut milk
juice of 1 lemon
a handful of basil
a handful of cherry tomatoes
6 oz fish (I used salmon)
vegetables like red peppers, summer squash, cabbage, carrots, snow peas, mushrooms
cooked rice
Heat about 1/3 of the coconut milk in a pan on low heat and add curry paste to taste (1-2 tsp to begin with). Mix until you have a consistent liquid. Add vegetables and cook until peppers and carrots are somewhat soft but still a bit crunchy. Add the remaining coconut milk, the basil and the cherry tomatoes and heat through. When the sauce is hot, mash the cherry tomatoes against the side of the pot so they release their juice into the sauce. Add fish and heat thoroughly. If you don't like fish, you could use beef or chicken, but I would cook them separately first. When all is well heated through, turn off the stove and add the lemon juice. Stir well and serve over rice. Enjoy with a glass of cold white wine.
Please excuse the poor picture quality. I did not think to share this recipe until just before I sat down to eat, and it was already dark out. Oh well, so it goes.
Tonight I found myself home alone after a very active day out of the house, so I didn't much feel like putting much effort into dinner or eating cereal. This meal is wonderful because it comes together so quickly and still tastes so wonderfully fresh and nutritious.
Ingredients:
Thai curry paste of your choice (available at Asian markets and many supermarkets)
1 14 oz can coconut milk
juice of 1 lemon
a handful of basil
a handful of cherry tomatoes
6 oz fish (I used salmon)
vegetables like red peppers, summer squash, cabbage, carrots, snow peas, mushrooms
cooked rice
Heat about 1/3 of the coconut milk in a pan on low heat and add curry paste to taste (1-2 tsp to begin with). Mix until you have a consistent liquid. Add vegetables and cook until peppers and carrots are somewhat soft but still a bit crunchy. Add the remaining coconut milk, the basil and the cherry tomatoes and heat through. When the sauce is hot, mash the cherry tomatoes against the side of the pot so they release their juice into the sauce. Add fish and heat thoroughly. If you don't like fish, you could use beef or chicken, but I would cook them separately first. When all is well heated through, turn off the stove and add the lemon juice. Stir well and serve over rice. Enjoy with a glass of cold white wine.
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Please excuse the poor picture quality. I did not think to share this recipe until just before I sat down to eat, and it was already dark out. Oh well, so it goes.
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