poof. part one. the mud.

it wasn't a large POOF. small really, almost unnoticeable. I turned around and summer was gone. A blur of plantings and paintings, of plaster and mud. so now it is time for catching up and slowing down.

The harvests are finally in. A grand total of 47 acorn squash, 42 lbs of fresh dug potatoes, 37 ears of corn, a bushel each of peaches, onions and peppers and 11 bags of zucchini stuffing the freezer to capacity.

pies, muffins, sauces all tucked away.

having a garden is the gift that keeps on giving.

peach pie and fried zuchinni are the closest thing to bliss come february when the snow is 2 feet deep and the winds are harsh.  The hardest job you'll ever love.

it was a horrible (horrible!) year for tomatoes. Loads of rain and very little heat make very unhappy tomatoes. It is the first week of October and there are still about 2 bushels of tomatoes still on the plant and still very green. Since they are all sauce tomatoes you can't even fry them up properly- so it looks like there will be a very large batch of late season salsa in the kitchen this fall. I forced about 24 lbs into red to  get them into the pot for pizza and pasta sauces for freezing but not nearly enough to last through the winter.

for those of you not in the know- if you have tomatoes that are just on the brink of changing- that icky pale not quite pink but not quite green color- find yourself a brown paper sack (i say find because at least in these parts paper sacks are somewhat of a commodity- another downfall of the plastic generation!) anyway- toss your tomatoes in a paper sack and close it up tight. set them on the back of your counter and forget about them for a day or two and when you open the sack- voila! red ripe tomatoes.

So the big surprise of the summer was the melon. Cantalope and watermelon- by the dozen. Surprise because all of the cantalope vines (seemingly) died. first by sunstroke, then by drowing. frustrated, i ignored them. next thing i knew they were crawling all over the place, threatening the lettuce patch and trying to make a break for the gate. As for the watermelons- they are a tricky bunch- too much water and they don't get sweet. not enough water and they don't get red. With the driving rains we had i was sure i was going to wind up with big green balls of pale pink, well, water. In the end- I wound up delivering several to the library, and pawning them off on unsuspecting summer folks along the lake shore. They were in such high demand, they have made the final cut for the farm stand next year! i can grow melons. who knew? so there you have it. the mud. i went from an old barren field to a full freezer/pantry/fridge in four fleeting months. and some how, some where, in the middle of it all, i managed to attend a few art shows, make a few friends, have a few laughs and learn a few lessons. So i suppose, it is no wonder that the summer seems to have passed in the turn of a head.

next up, the plaster...

till then,

live well,

stay happy.

don't blink!

tracey jean

so, blogger is acting up again and i had to post this through html coding- you'll forgive the glitches and run togethers- i'm a bit rusty!

Happy May Day!

May the day bring you endless possibilities, new beginnings

and bright blessings.

till then,

live well.

enjoy the sun.



Infatuation...

can you blame me?

till then,
live well.
magic can happen.

when trying to garden

on warm April mornings, it is always handy

to have a snake charmer.. on hand.

till then,
live well.
better him than me.

totally plastered

in a good way.

This piece is one of my favorites. plaster over burlap over canvas. crackled, carved and burnished into submission. part of a fossil series i am creating this summer in the studio-

i love working with plaster. it is relatively forgiving, extremely versatile and just loads of fun. The textures and effects you can achieve are endless.

again, plaster over burlap. but this time over wood. acrylic burnished into the plaster and sealed with an archival satin, to promote the overall freso feel of this piece, which i love. an impressionist view of the pond buried in the oak grove beyond the hay fields. one of my favorite places on the farm. 

another impressionist view. This piece is created with deep grooves of molding paste over plaster, on canvas with acrylic.

hope floats. an abstract created in plaster over wood. Acrylic with copper ink.


I told you plaster was versatile. It is one of my favorite mediums to work with as it allows me to use it to what ever end the muse subscribes for the day. and you probably thought it was just for walls! :O)

all of these pieces will be available for sale in the next few days over at the shop.  If you are interested in aquiring a piece before they list, you can just drop me an inquiry via email  (see contact above) and i can send you the sizing and pricing on each.

it is turning out to be a fabulous day here in the north country. Trying to balance studio time and farm time is getting a bit tricky. when i am one place i want to be in the other. I am trying desperatly to learn how to schedule and also self control. so, to that end- enough fun time in the studio now. its back to the plow.

I hope you are enjoying your day.

until then,
live well.
make it brilliant.

and sow it begins

Now that the weather has taken a respite and the earth is beginning to thaw, it is time to get all those plans out, dust them off and put them to work!

first up, the garden, since that is the one with an actual schedule that must be kept to.

ingredients:
One hay field, that used to be an animal paddock about 100 years ago.
a rototiler -deliciously supplied gratis by a local retired farmer- blessings in disguise. the motor just needed to be re-worked and voila!
an iron rake.
front end loader- for rock collecting. (did i mention that this is limestone country?)
a bucket for collecting the artifacts buried. (you would not believe some of the things that have been thrown/buried/left out in the field for years!)
3 days
5 blisters
and a set of very sore shoulders

Now it may not seem from the photo that much progress has been made, but it is all about the sod removal. and by sod, i don't mean that pretty green stuff you lovingly tend in your back yard. I am talking about north country grass.
Did I ever tell you about north country grass? It comes straight from the place that all things evil come from. you can cut it to dirt level and with one slight drizzle it will be three inches tall and green as anything. You mow it every three days in the summer and it doesn't stop growing until mid november. seriously. first snow better be over 4 inches, or the green stuff will poke itself through. stubborn as hell and its root system is unmatched. chainmail dreams of being this when it grows up. evil, i tell you. evil.

more progress on the garden later, though. the tractor has to come in and plow up the remaining grass root balls, more raking rocks then the fence.

Time to jump start some seedlings. a poor mans hot box.

while i am still in the process of building actual hot boxes and raised beds, there is no reason why these little guys can't start on their journey from the ground to the table.
everyone has atleast one of these plastic crates lying around. inevidably, they get cracked, cause that is what plastic does. Don't throw them out yet. they make perfect little homes to start your seedlings in. and they still hold water. (if you have one with an actual hole, just get some duct tape. it won't be overly abused.) put them out in the sun and they create nice little terrariums, soaking in sunlight, creating their own moisture and gaining a second purpose in life.

The peat pots are home made as well. no need to spend loads of money on premade, store bought pots. Take an old tin can and some news paper and make your own.
so simple. Cut the paper down to strips that are about 3 inches longer than the can. wrap the paper around the can, tucking the paper around the bottom of the can. burnish it a bit on a hard surface and slide the paper 'cup' off the can. carefully fold the top inwards about 1/2 inch and volia! fill with dirt and set into your crate. add about 2 inches of water and let the paper soak it up over night. the next morning~seed away!

meanwhile, deadlines are looming and I have plaster drying in the studio and am excited to get back in there. look for photos tomorrow. There are new works completed, a donation for a local art auction and more exciting things on the horizon!

Don't you just love how a few sunny days gets your motivation zooming!!

till then,
live well.
be happy.

Getting into a rhythm

When people originally heard of this hair brain idea, the first (and unanimous) response was..."how on earth are you going to make it through the winter?" followed by a variety of suggestions and warnings of cabin fever and how to survive it.  The problem, though, is not the winter itself (if you are prepared). it is winter afterall. You head into it fully stocked with provisions, heat source, secondary heat source, back-up to secondary heat source, fuel for the generator in case all else fails and a large array of reading materials. You expect large amounts of snow, intense cold and long hours of solitude. It is winter afterall. And when the temperature isn't cold enough to take your breath away or instantly freeze solid the tears from your wind stung eyeballs- it is a glorious place to explore and wander, a sanctuary of mother nature's hardiest creations. No, it is not the winter that is the problem. In reality, and most obsurdly, it is the Spring that gives the most issue when trying not to go one hundred percent, over the edge, bat-shit crazy.

let me explain.

There are months of snow up to your arse, winds storming off the lake at a blistering speed and ice jams higher than you can reach. weeks of being entertained (and some what amused) by the scufflings of predator/prey survival dances outlined in snow. Days of walking to the end of the drive and standing, swallowed in the silence and in the knowing that, besides your one 'neighbor' there are thirty miles between you and any other human.  all surreal and empowering experiences (which I strongly recommend be experienced) and yet, the spirit longs for a change. whether through nature or nurture, we look forward to the time of sunshine and growth. Long, warm days. Cool starry nights. warm earth and green leaves. It lingers in your mind, teasing you as if a dream you can almost remember.


one day, you wake up to the most glorious sunshine. Spring has sprung, the Equinox has passed, the ice shards have receded and little pokes of life start to emerge. The lake turns brighter blue, you hear the cry of a far off gull returning home and your wonderful warming world looks like this:

Yeah! it's Spring! it's Spring! you brave the still brisk morning air, crawl out of the cave fresh with coffee in hand to sit and revel in the splender of the day. Warry but hopeful.

The next day- oh can it be??!! more of the same! It must be true! Spring is here!sunshine and the twitter of birds. Breathe deep, take it all in. The crisp blast of oxygen hits the brain like a drug and you can't help yourself. you know your just setting yourself up, but, oh its so good. and Plans. you have Plans. lots and lots of plans. Plans that have been fostering in your mind these frigid months come spewing out like a volcano. Garden layouts, seed catalogs, deadlines to order chicks and keets and onion sets. Fences to repair and grounds to shore. winter storm damage to be repaired and cleaned up. Time to get out the equipment, check all the lines and gauges and fuel levels. Rake. where is the rake? oh, but life is grand. and happy. and sunny. and you have been set free unto the world again. YIPEEEeeee.

The next day, you leap from your bed fresh from the dream of thawing earth. Distracted by the thoughts of garden beds and baby goats. brush your teeth, brew the coffee, toast the bread. scratch that, you'll eat later- it's still early. Boots on, coat. work gloves. open door...... BAM
your world now looks like this:

oh what a fickle mistress this mother nature is! Cursing the wind, slam the door, strip the clothes. Return to bed with covers securely tucked over your head. Avoid news and weather for three days. Start process over again.

And so it goes. Hope and disappointment. Sun ladened mornings and harsh, icing nights. an entire month. and then the next. month. Those beautiful months the rest of the world knows as Spring, we just simply now refer to as. ugh.

So here we are at the end of April and it seems that the farm is starting to get into a rhythm. The weather has held for one week. and by held, i mean to say that we have had no snow. atleast none that has reached the ground and has had the nerve to stay.  Loads of rain- but then that is always a good thing.

and yesterday, in a moment of defiance, I donned my winter get-up, masked my face, grabbed the keys and scooted around the Point. I may have froze my arse off, but I think mother nature has gotten the point. I will not go quietly.

and I was rewarded for my efforts with this beauty.

another defiant creation. did you know, that when the willow warms with the spring, its new tendrils are flamed in the most delightful yellow? The willow is fast becoming a favorite in my love affair with trees.

till then,

live well.

be happy.

so i went out to the market the other day...

the market is some thirty-five miles away, and there is always  loads of things to distract you along the way. One of the farms raises, what my son and i affectionately call "boo goats"- (you know those miniature love bugs that if you run up behind them and startle them they fall over faint?)   and then looking for the longhorns that hide near the tree lines in the outer pastures (i know, longhorns.. right?). This time of year there are always new additions to the surrounding pastures and beasts venturing out searching for new grass. but when I saw this critter, there was literally a locking of breaks. screaching of tires and gaping of mouths.

isn't she magnificient? i love the soft expression in her eyes~ i just knew santa left his sleigh pullers to vacation in the north country!

i am assuming, of course, that it is a she, as her companion was very interested in her, uhm, that is to say, er, her backside. (o.0) hey, this is farm life!

so, evidentally, the prudent owner of this magnificence, chose to safe harbour her and her companions during the hight of hunting season and now leave them to have the run of the entire place. freedom!

now, as a side note of a funny story regarding some of the "hunters" up here, and for those that don't believe one could not identify the rack on that head vs. a deer.

not to long ago, there was a hunter that killed (wait for it).....a cow. lets all keep in mind that this was inthe middle of winter (no pesky underbrush to veil his view) and broad day light. now his defense was, that he thought this creature to be.... a bear. thats right. a bear. a big, clumsy black and white bear hanging out with a dozen other big, clumsy black and white bears in the middle of a pasture eating hay. cause thats what bears do.

live well.

love each other.

reality is just crazy (but mostly fun)

so the plan was simple. build up the number of songbirds that frequent the feeder. start at first frost; make daily attention, frequent feeds, mix up the seeds. sounds good.
right?

 it actually worked like a charm.  sightings where made of junkos, chickadees, cardinals in pairs, titmouse, red-eyed vireo, blue jays (nasty little buggers), boreal chickadee, wrens, warblers, finches and ravens and dozens more. they all showed up. and while I am still waiting for that elusive indigo bunting, i am quite pleased with the turn out. sort of.
you see...when you live in the middle of the wilderness, you actually have no control over what shows up in your back yard, at your feeder; or for that matter on, around & under your feeder.

Sure, it was expected that the cats would show up below the feeder, leaving their sneaking prints as evidence in the nights snowfall; even the bobcats and the wolves and the coydogs were expected. this is winter after all. food is scarce. the deer and the bunnies, the squirrels and the mice come to nibble up the fallen seed and the bread crumbs. and where the prey go- so go the predators. no big deal. expected. that is why the feeders are away from the house. what i didn't expect were the turkeys.
okay- so you all are saying...duh! i fully appreciate that.  what i mean is, I did not expect the shear NUMBER of turkeys that showed up.  what started as 3 or 4, within days turned into a full rafter!!   on a good day (she says with maniacal laughter) that means about thirty. on every other day it means no less than fifty-seven. fifty-seven.  now. if you need to know anything about turkeys (more than the fact that they are yummy with cranberries and gravy) they are destructive birds - especially in large groups. there is nothing that gets in the way of their feeding. I have decided that, in fact, they would be a very good as an ecofriendly stump removal system as well as a remarkably efficient de-thatching program.

so now this is my morning:
envision if you will the dawn breaking on a secluded farm. the first sun rays break through the tree line and the fields burst into a golden amber hue. A slight breeze. the chatter of songbirds fill the air.
hidden in the shadows, peaking from her lair in the farmhouse there appears to be an escape mental patient clad only in a night shift, a sock monkey hat and green wellies ~ with hair flying and screaming 'TEE TEE TEE TEE' at the top of her lungs, she flings open the porch door, wielding two metal garbage can lids crashing together in symphony of pure chaos. panic. fear. FLIGHT!  the entire rafter takes flight in a fury of wings. the air filled with the disturbance of flight and the calls of terror. Breathless, the mental patient watches with satisfaction the clearing of her realm and turns back to the sanctuary of the farmhouse, thinking how fortunate it is that neighbors are few and far between. wait. stop. turn slowly to the left.
are you kidding me????

well, at least I have to give him props for his originality, failure to follow the crowd and ability to complete the task at hand, even under extreme duress. he comes back every day, refuses to be scared away- even when the firecrackers are lit off. he sticks it out.  i have had no choice but to name him. meet Jackamo.
{sigh}
such an interesting and spectacular place this is.


live well.
love each other.