Chef David and I had a rare weekend all to ourselves, no obligations to anybody or anything outside of routine chores. Today we decided to visit our local flea marketer/antique dealer, a biggish operation in a mashup of old buildings, at least one of them almost certainly a large barn at some point, but with … Continue reading Sunday Photo Essay: We Go Flea-Tiquing
Photo Essay
Sunday Photo Essay: Butternut Squash Soup
It's the time of year I start yearning for soup and chili, feel the need to stand in my kitchen and create things. Tomorrow is the first day of fall, and I shall greet it with the best possible outlook, knowing it will also hand us our first plowable snow, and keenly aware our first … Continue reading Sunday Photo Essay: Butternut Squash Soup
Journal Entry: We Have Cicadas!
And the photographic evidence is right up ^ there. Last Saturday morning Scoutie and I struck out on our usual city run, which takes us down a couple of tree-line pathways that wind along the Walloomsac River in a sort of parklike setting—same river in fact that delineates the southern boundary of our property—before we … Continue reading Journal Entry: We Have Cicadas!
Travel Journal: Knoxville in a Day
I feel less connected to Knoxville every time I go back there, a thing that makes me all kinds of sad, but also somehow helps propel me forward, make my peace with where I am now. Don’t get me wrong: I shall never be a proper Yankee, but will remain forever a Southerner, wherever I … Continue reading Travel Journal: Knoxville in a Day
Travel Story: We Feed Goats in Chattanooga
Goats were not specifically why we traveled to Chattanooga (we got there by way of Christiansburg, VA, thence to Knoxville before finally arriving), but the goats proved an entertaining and comical diversion one sultry evening on Missionary Ridge; they also made splendid subjects to photograph. I’ll get to them. A theme that popped up again … Continue reading Travel Story: We Feed Goats in Chattanooga
Travel Story: We Visit Fallingwater
Let me start backwards with stories of our Way Down South trip, that is to say, start at the end, while the images and sounds and smells from our special day at Fallingwater haven’t yet faded or grown too stale. We drove out of our way to tour this exquisite Frank Lloyd Wright house, widely … Continue reading Travel Story: We Visit Fallingwater
Sunday Photo Essay: When Life Is a Walk in the Park
Scout-the-Goldapeake-Retriever possibly suspect's something's up. The suitcases haven't come out yet, but clothing is piled in strange and unlikely places, and yesterday the house- and dog-sitter (whom Scout already knows from camp) came by to get the lay of the land. You could look at Scoutie's face and tell he was thinking something like, "Huh." … Continue reading Sunday Photo Essay: When Life Is a Walk in the Park
Journal Entry: The Garden Thus Far
Somebody was supposed to bake honey oatmeal bread on the weekend, a thing that never came about because of Pressing Matters. I had every intention of photographing that somebody whilst he was baking the bread, and the bread itself. So now I shall give you a little photo essay showing what happened instead, which was … Continue reading Journal Entry: The Garden Thus Far
Journal Entry: Oh, Spring, Don’t Be Such a Sullen Teenager
Sometimes spring reminds me of the agony of adolescence: It’s gangly, awkward, sulking, insecure—still a work in progress. And as much as it wants to be all grown up, has miles yet to venture down that road. Springtime in Vermont still doesn’t quite know how to groom or fix its hair or make nice with … Continue reading Journal Entry: Oh, Spring, Don’t Be Such a Sullen Teenager
Sunday Photo Essay: An Afternoon at the Clark
Yesterday was damn near perfect, bumper to bumper. It was also the first day I could feel winter finally, if a tad reluctantly, begin to loose its grip up here in these New England parts. After the Chef and I finished a little morning puttering, and after each of us—and Scoutie—had nice city runs in … Continue reading Sunday Photo Essay: An Afternoon at the Clark
