pearled earth

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 20

2013-05-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

Mink gone fishing. On a recent hike, Matt caught a glimpse of someone long, dark and slender slipping into the creek. From the opposite bank, we spied the hole it might have disappeared into. After consulting a field guide, mink is what we think... but it's hard to be sure.

Dark things

2013-05-09T05:04:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to share a few pictures from the garden this morning... The combination of chocolate vine and gavota tulips is one of my favorites. So many of my favorite things are blooming and happening right now. All it takes is three drops of rain to pop out our first edible mushrooms of the season (dryad's saddle). There are some coming on top of the hill that we'll pick later today. For now, I must go hunt warblers. I mean "hunt" in the passive, watch-them-fly-over sense, of course. B-bye.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 19

2013-05-08T07:24:00.001-07:00

Screech owl in the pines. Everywhere I go, I am ALWAYS looking for owls. That is why I trip and fall so much. And also why I forget the things I am supposed to bring with me. I haven't seen an owl in the feather lately, so I keep a virtual eye on things at the Avian Reconditioning Center for Birds of Prey. Someone there takes great pictures of their birds. I am in love with the little one-eyed screech owl...

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 18

2013-05-02T08:20:00.000-07:00

So, I think we all know what's happened here. She was sleeping under the kitchen table, snout resting on mangled old squeaky toy. The fresh scent of newly-spread manure wafted in on the spring breeze. Her nostrils quivered... one eyebrow perked... and she popped up, nudged the screen door ajar, scampered down the hill and into the field, rolled in the poop, had a dip in the cow pond, and now here she is in the kitchen again, having just had a good shake. She used to be a white dog, but now she's sort of... off-colorish.

But I think she needs a name, and I can't seem to come up with one. Help! What do you think?

April flowers

2013-04-29T08:37:00.001-07:00

The neighborhood is full of good smells - a seasonal event that one must enjoy before the air grows hot and fetid and laden with city stink. For now, magnolias smell like wine, and there are grape hyacinths, narcissus, mown lawns. Nice to return to this, after having been away.

We spent our first night on the Vermont land. After a day of tromping around in muck boots, cataloging in our minds what is there (two creeks that go underground here and back up again there, hazelnut bushes, coltsfoot and cattails, cold balsam-scented breezes, thrushes singing), we shared French lunch (that's snacks with wine!) with new friends, and later set up our tent. As a storm blew in, we listened to a woodcock doing its breeding display, and the rain and the wind. There is a special kind of insomniac anxiety that goes with spending the night in a tent in a storm, and it's not the kind I'm used to, where you just lie there and fret. This kind of anxiety is more elemental, I think, and I appreciate it, in a way, because the scary weather makes me feel real and energized. While worrying about money and work and stupid shit does not. I love a storm and a tent. I do.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 17

2013-04-26T06:48:00.002-07:00

Snowy owl flies north. I've never seen one, but it sounds like they're more common in Vermont, so maybe I will one day. When we first began searching for a place to move, we considered many places across the country... It took a while before we were willing to entertain a spot farther north, with a colder climate, a lower hardiness zone, and fewer exciting things in the bulb catalogs to plant. Now, with northern Vermont in our future, I'm looking forward to other species - plants and animals both - that thrive only where the freeze goes deeper. So, there will be no Anemone coronaria for me - but perhaps a snowy owl!

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 16

2013-04-15T14:55:00.000-07:00

Two little cynical saw-whet owls. I'm totally breaking my own One Beast rule, again. Oh well, you know what they say about rules.

Spring sprang sprung

2013-04-15T14:48:00.000-07:00

Spring is warming incrementally here, which I don't mind a bit. I filled up the birdbaths for the first time last week, and since then they've been in constant rotation. If the sun is shining, they are usually both full at once. The robins have turned the more favorite of the two into a mixing vat for their proprietary blend of nest mud (grass, roots, compost and poop? I'm just guessing).

I pretty much never stop at yard sales, but on our way through town yesterday we spied The Watering Can of My Dreams (Matt's words), so we pulled over and did a through-the-passenger-window deal. $3! That experience took exactly the amount of time and money I like to spend when I go shopping. And today whenever my watering can called, I jumped up from my desk and scampered out to the garden to water something. I should take a video so you can see its sweet watering action. It will definitely show up in future photos here, on account of how handsome in the landscape it is. That might not be a well worn phrase - handsome in the landscape - but it is the best way to describe my watering can.

And that's that! Otherwise I've just been madly scribbling away with my pencil. I'm working on a bigger drawing than usual, which I hope turns out, because the last big drawing didn't turn out at all and I didn't even know it until the very end, which made for a dismal discovery. And we're going to Vermont to visit my mom and dad, and camp out on our land, and I can't wait.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 15

2013-04-10T09:18:00.000-07:00

Meadow jumping mouse with wheat. This week's beast, like last week's, is not someone I'm personally familiar with. My little city garden is sadly spare on the rodent side of things... We do have a rat or two, of course, and there is someone small and secretive who tunnels between the house foundation and the hemlock tree... So I had to resort to youtube videos to get to know my subject a bit. Meadow jumping mice are cute, as I suspected, and their long, narrow feet are capable of flipping them airborne, like pancakes, in order to cover some distance.

Desk o' owls...

2013-04-10T06:03:00.000-07:00

...with a little spot for me, in the middle.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 14

2013-04-04T12:28:00.000-07:00

Barn owl on a post. More owls in the weeks to come, because I have a bigger owl project in mind... Bigger, badder owls! Not really. Just more owls, of all varieties. And who doesn't love an owl?

Spring

2013-04-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else feel headless, or at least senseless, this time of year? Lengthening daylight and building summer plans make me unfocused. So much to do! Sometimes I jump up from my desk to attend to some just-remembered something, and without thinking I put my pencil someplace stupid and completely unlikely, and there it hides for the next 15 minutes while I try to retrace my brain-addled steps. And then finally I find my pencil, and it's like, what am I? One of those woodpeckers that stashes acorns for a time when there won't be any more acorns anymore? Except those woodpeckers probably remember just where they put their acorns, so never mind.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 13

2013-03-29T05:59:00.000-07:00

Two ravens sharing a tender moment. A few weeks ago, Matt took me hiking to the top of a cliff where he climbs. He had seen the remnants of a nest tucked into a notch in the rock, and wanted to check it out. While he rappelled down with the camera, I waited at the top with my binoculars, watching a pair of ravens. They preened one another and hopped and touched beaks and talked, and one did little flying loops of love off the cliff edge and back to its mate. They completely ignored Matt and I. Getting to see this was so sweet, and so unexpected. When Matt climbed back up, he had pictures of a beautifully woven nest of coarse sticks, with a soft bowl in the middle, and three speckled eggs, which you can just barely see...

Each time it has snowed since then, I think of the ravens up there, tending their nest, looking out over the mountains and the weather. We won't disturb them again, but I hope to glimpse baby ravens from a little further away.

A slow progression

2013-03-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

Snowflakes are still flying here every day, but arugula is sprouting in the cold frame, and thanks to Matt's industry over the past week, the vegetable garden paths are mulched. I've pruned most of my roses, raked up many piles of debris, and miracle of miracles! not stepped in any cat crap yet. I've had my first un-neighborly conversation with the woodchuck, who is fresh out of his dirty hole in the ground. I was happy to see him, but don't tell him I said so. I also had a fit of inspiration and dug out a slew of perennials that were never my favorite, to make room for a rowdier bunch of exciting annuals to come.

And Matt and I have been talking about future plans, which involve leaving this home for another... A dream that is reviving to the soul. Do you know that song from Sweeney Todd about London? Well part of it goes there's a hole in the world like a great black pit. And that line rhymes with shit. And if your husband adapts that song to the town you live in, well, you know the effect of your city's charms have worn off and it's time to move on.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 12

2013-03-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

This might look like Three Beasts, but I assure you, it's not: it's just one little rabbit, going bonkers. Because it's that time of year, you know.

The original drawing is available in my shop, right here: Wild Little Bunnny Rabbit.

Happy spring, everyone! Hope you are celebrating, too.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 11

2013-03-16T06:25:00.000-07:00

Norton in the ghost garden. A little something different this week, in memory of my parents' cat, who died a few months ago. He haunted my mom's garden even when he was still of this world. If you were out on a lovely night, enjoying the stars and the summer insect noises, and something small went stampeding past, rustling the undergrowth... It was Nortie. It was never quite clear if he'd been spooked by some spirit we couldn't see or understand, or if he was the one doing the spooking.

Third annual crocus post

2013-03-13T05:52:00.000-07:00

I'm bad at remembering dates, or even years, of when important things happened. That's why I'm so pleased with myself for having posted the blooming of these little harbingers of spring three years in a row, because they are important to me, and I like knowing that they are perfectly in tune with their own particular climatic requirements. I don't know if day length has anything to do with it, but they do like warmth and sunshine, and perhaps a song sparrow to serenade their emergence...

Here they are blooming March 22, 2011 and February 22, 2012.

Two rats with a ribbon

2013-03-11T07:38:00.000-07:00

I got to draw two very special rats for a recent pet portrait commission. I have never known a rat well, though I do have names for the ones who frequent my compost pile, and when I bring them something especially delicious (like moldy winter squash with stale baguette and a sprinkling of coffee grounds with wilty cilantro on top), I recite the menu for them. I have a better appreciation for my wild city rats now, after studying the photos of these two sweet pets, and reading stories from their loving owner.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 10

2013-03-08T12:26:00.000-08:00

Crazed squirrel taking five. Everyone is acting a little nutty around here, what with the lengthening daylight and the thrill of spring on the breeze.

I've discovered there's a challenge in this beastie project, and here it is: not only do I have to draw one beast each week, but I also have to draw ONLY ONE beast each week. There are so many other projects on the table, but the temptation is to push them aside and keep drawing little animals until I get one I like. Finishing one, then heaving it over my shoulder into the pile of rejects and shouting "well this is a piece of crap!" is not productive. So, sometimes I've got to post something I'm not real proud of, to stay on target. That's just part of the Grand Mediocrity of things, I guess. Which is not a judgement on this squirrel. This squirrel has his own problems to deal with, none of which concern my rendering of him.

In March

2013-03-06T05:06:00.001-08:00

This is the very best time of year, I'm sure of it, because it is so full of anticipation. While the dreary weather is still something we have to haul our withered souls through in hopes of just one crocus... Well, the wishing is the sweetest part, right? And other than the very first bird song, nothing else has been and done yet. We have it all to look forward to. And also, the neighborhood cats are pissing on everything (isn't that great?).

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 9

2013-02-27T06:15:00.000-08:00

Cooper's hawk on a branch of Siberian elm. This week's beast is very dear to my heart. The Cooper's hawks of South Side have been my companions since we moved here. Most years, we find a nest early in the season - they are big and built of coarse sticks, constructed before the leaves come out, so pretty easy to spot. There have been years when things went awry and the eggs smashed on the ground, and years when we watched as many as four chicks go from cottonball stage to fully fledged, soaring the thermals above the city. Now is the time of year I look for a pair staking their claim to a scrappy little piece of Scranton woods...

Plus a bit of this and that: Prints of the first seven beasts are now available in my Etsy shop! And I'll have some work at the divine boutique Freedlove, 532 Spruce Street in Scranton, for March's First Friday, 6-9pm. I'll be hanging out there for the evening, or at least until I get very sleepy, and would love a visit. You might not recognize me, because just by osmosis, spending a couple hours in Freedlove will have made me fashionable. Or so I'm hoping.

Eating my way out of winter

2013-02-25T05:56:00.000-08:00

Birds began singing weeks ago, and to me, that marks the start of spring. I love this time of year, for the needy desperate craving for warm weather and outdoor industry, but also for the respite of true dark wintry days that, in all their depressing gloom, offer a few more hours to catch up on winter crap.

Last summer, we grew three kinds of flour corn in our little city garden - Painted Mountain, Abenaki Calais, and Hopi Blue. Since then, a mason jar of each variety has sat on the kitchen table, the colors being too pretty to shut away in the pantry. On Friday, we took our corn to the farm of some friends, and ran it through their awesome grain mill. The first cup of Painted Mountain went into a yogurty batter, and then into the wood cookstove, and then into our bellies as really yummy, beautifully speckled cornbread. We ground the Hopi Blue into meal, too, and had some in pancakes for breakfast the next morning, along with wild blueberries left from summer foraging. The Abenaki Calais we ground a little coarser, into polenta.

I made a tart with our very own whole-entire, rind-and-all, except-for-the-seeds Meyer lemon, and that was also delicious. Meals last week were built around our own roasted tomatoes, sweet (oven)dried tomatoes, herbs, black trumpets... Sausagefest done and happened, so our freezer is stocked with chorizo and friends. Bacon, too. Oh boy. Bacon. We have teas from chaga, reishi, and chamomile that we harvested ourselves, and a freezer still partly full of berries, blanched green beans, breaded eggplant, pesto, chicken-of-the-woods, and whatever else is lurking in the avalanche.

So that's that. We've just been eating. And I'm feeling good about what we put up last season. After giving up the gardening business, I had more time to grow food, collect food, draw pictures to trade for food, and preserve food, so between what we stored and the staples that come on the truck with Matt's bakery supplies, we haven't had to go to the grocery store much at all this winter. Except for blocks of frying cheese and avocados, because taquitos with guacomole is, like, fifty percent of our diet. But we grew the salsa.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 8

2013-02-18T10:21:00.001-08:00

Tufty goat on a windy day. Goats - what can I say? I really want one. Or better, a set of six, no two the same, but kind of coordinated.

A little love from the baker...

2013-02-14T07:18:00.001-08:00

...for the crusty-hearted.

A hiding game

2013-02-13T07:25:00.000-08:00

After my parents' two antique cats died within months of each other, my mom decided it was time for a brand new cat. This cat, she said, should be generously proportioned, for the purpose of covering a whole lap. Not just a part of a lap. And so, necessarily, the cat would also be the type to enjoy a lot of lap-sitting. With this brief shopping list, Mom went to the pound and returned home with Charley, who now spends a good part of each day sprawled across Mom's lap, or sort of slumped backward in the crook of Dad's arm, while reading on the couch. He also, you will notice, has a favorite, mustachio-print pillow, and he is so well camouflaged in front of it that you practically can't even see him!