White is the new black

A relatively warm morning, and the new snow is light and crystally like mica flakes. A woman came out and asked if I'd fallen... It took me a moment to realize that if you point your camera at someone else's sidewalk, it is assumed you have litigious intentions. This bummed me out more than it should have, perhaps. That old "SEE, this is why I never leave the house, everyone else is crazy, I am so misunderstood!" feeling.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 5

A cat for Louise. My grandma, who is very old and ailing, loves a nice cat: a small, sweet, inquisitive and affectionate cat. One who is a tidy size for lap sitting. Grandma doesn't have a cat, so this one is especially for her.

A dream poem

I love a good stormy night. The window sashes knock around and the streetlight casts these very dramatic, dancing-tree-limb shadows inside the bedroom. I wake up enough to wish we had a metal roof to hear the rain on - a sound I find deeply comforting. In our house, powerful dreams always roil up in these conditions... Often dark ones, but last night, I got to walk down a dirt road in Vermont and wonder at all the heavily laden citrus trees (grapefruit-sized, pear-shaped blood oranges!). I've had similar dreams before, about Vermont (in real life, we hope to move there soon)... We drive there, and it is magically warmer - the leaves haven't fallen, but are just beginning to turn, and it's 70 degrees out.

In other news... A belated but heartfelt thank you to Summer of the beautifully curated blog Design is Mine for her kind mention of my artwork, and to FitPregnancy for recommending my bad woodchuck as good nursery art. And a note to locals: If you haven't already been there, Lyn Carey's shop, Earth and Wears, is so much fun! Lyn has a whole lot of enthusiasm and a really vibrant, energetic style, and I'm very happy my prints are now included in her selection of "handmade lovelies." The store is on Main Street in Dallas, PA.

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 4

A small spotted pig, having suddenly come to a halt.

I've delved into the wide world of pig varieties, via Google images, and have developed some preferences (based entirely on aesthetics and not at all on practicality). If anyone is reading this who might be considering what gift they'd next like to give me, here's what I want: a basket containing one each of the following piglets: Ossabaw Island, Black Iberian, Peccary, and Wooly (which is really more of a sheep-pig two-in-one combo deal).

Pennylvania lemons...

...and other delights!

What a lovely weekend it was! This past year, I finally learned what my Meyer lemon tree wants: a steady diet of gallons of fish emulsion, supplemented with iron-rich small mammal sacrifices. It has thrived, and produced enough plump, rosy-tinged lemons to dream up all kinds of treats... So this weekend, the first lemon was squeezed into a 20th Century (using this recipe, but cutting back on the lemon). My dear, inspiring, all-around-tons-of-fun friend Cadyn spent the weekend with me. We went for walks in the lovely sun, did a bit of crafting, cooked and ate and talked and drank. Our husbands went on a whirlwind tour of major east coast cities on what I've been calling their "black metal brocation," and while I have been informed I've not categorized the musical genre accurately... well, poetics over factual details, right?

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 3

Someone stinky, considering an about-face to follow her own tail...

the Each Week, One Beast project: week 2

This is my catch-up beast for the second week of January, a long-eared owl. We saw one, once, while mucking through a swamp on top of the next ridge over... I believe we woke it up, and would likely not have seen it if not for its enormous amber-colored eyes - like two tiny lanterns glowing inside the dark hemlock boughs. Though I am not an owl expert, I will declare the long-eared - an especially tall, skinny owl - to be the Muppetiest of them all.