Giving Thanks

This Moment we have everything to be thankful for, home, jobs, family and friends. We have weathered stormy times and survived. now we give thanks for all the people who got us through.

Turkey number one. Guided by the "Real Simple get ahead on the holidays feature, I put together our first turkey dinner of the season. While my sweet man still spends his Saturdays at Trader Joe's, we decided early that we needed to get one of the TJs brined turkeys, as we waited too late and missed out last year. Mid-month, I pulled out the roasting pan, simmered a saucepan of Cider Glaze and Roasted a beautiful bird to Bronze perfection. The other beauty of starting early is the opportunity to enjoy more sides than can be consumed in one sitting.
(Cider Glazed Turkey, buttered turnips, cornbread stuffing with apples and giblets, cranberry sauce)

Thanksgiving Day the family gathered at the newly refurbished home of my brother and sister in law in the woods at Claude's Cove. All of our family traveled in from distant miles, as well as my sister in law's brothers and sister in law. My Thanksgiving morning was spent in my tradition of watching the Macy's parade and making a selection of side dishes from recipes I'd been gathering over the past weeks. Sweet Potatoes with Apples and Bacon (Trader Joe's recipe), Smothered Country Green Beans (Garden & Gun) and a Traditional Cornbread and biscuit dressing , a Southern Living Recipe, but a dead ringer of what Mom and Grandma made in past years. Last but not least, a homemade Cranberry Sauce made of a blend of fruits, juices and spices, not too sweet and a mellow accompaniment to the main dishes.

Cranberry Sauce

1 cup cranberry juice
1 bag of fresh whole cranberries
1/4 cup dried cranberries
2 TBS Fig Preserves
1/4 cup orange juice
1/2 tsp. lemon zest
1/4 tsp. lemon zest
1/4 tsp. Allspice
1/4 tsp.ground Ginger
Place all ingredients in a medium saucepan, bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 7 minutes until cranberries burst. Cool and chill before serving.

The family gathered and feasted and talked and wined and dined together on a gorgeous Autumn Day, where the sun filtered through the trees and jewel toned color glimmered still.

A welcomed day after was for resting, relaxing, and gathering a collection of antiquities for vending. Off to the Antique Mall, then a stop off to visit my old buddy Jimmy at his Antiques Shop. It was so great to see him and, as a bonus, from his treasures,, I found a perfect "McCoy" Turkey Platter for a steal!


Turkey platter McCoy as we'll call him, came home for the roasting of Turkey part deux. Another TJ bird, rubbed with varietal salts and spices, we served it up with a broccoli casserole, more dressing and leftover sweet potatoes from the day before. All leaving plenty for the turkey salads, turkey soups and sliced turkey sandwiches for days and weeks to come. yum yum. And Amen.

A day of Grace

We started our Sunday and day of our major mission with a quiet walk across town in the early morning, our destination, Sun Studios. We arrived for the first tour of the day and had an exhilarating walk through an historical piece of musical heaven. Our guide was such an animated and exhuberant talent of replicating the moments that had gone down in those corridors for decades. The building vibrated with soul and presence and still such aliveness of current talents that continue to come and spin tunes in this magical palace. It was our beginning to an historical delve into Memphis history.



Next stop, Graceland. All I can say is that it was a far more peaceful and tranquil place than I could have imagined. Not as grand a specticle, nor as over the top in many ways. For the time that Elvis lived there, I think it was a modest home, compared to the L.A. mansions of the Hollywood elite. Nevertheless, the tour, the sights, are well laid out and a tribute to someone of great talent, and someone who I believe was a truly compassionate and giving person. Fame takes it's toll, but his family has preserved his place, and he truly is running through the veins of the city of Memphis. I am so thankful to have had this opportunity to go exploring in such a fun, vibrant and friendly place. Elvis lives!

touristing

Ahhh, a beautiful fall day beside the Mississippi. What to do but wander the streets of this unknown city, shop, eat and take it all in. The temperature couldn't have been better, hovering around 70 in the daytime and 50s in the evening. Saturday was our shopping and tourist day and our first full day to indulge on what good eats Memphis had to offer. Thanks to our Scottish friends, we had some tips they had collected from some locals to find some of the best the town had to offer.








After our ramblings on Beale Street, we headed to The Flying Fish, home of all wayward Billy Bass castaways. Saturday then became Fry-Day. Fried catfish, hushpuppies, okra, shrimp, oysters...am I forgetting anything? Oh, I also had a few oysters on the half, so we could truly say we had six of one and half dozen of the other. Really. We sat at the window seats looking out on to the street and had ourselves a feast. All was very well cooked. Not too sleazy greazy and just what we'd been looking for. Awesome!




After the feast, we rambled back to the hotel and deposited our shopping treasures, then went back to our Bardog family for some happy hours before our next exploratory venture. Late afternoon we walked north on the Main Street trolley line. Oddly, we never hopped on the trolley, it always seemed to be going the other way. It was fine with us to walk and take in the city sights in such a fine fall climate. We ventured into the Pinch District, which is known for being an art center of the town. Viewing sculpture, galleries and performing arts venues along the way. We made a visit to Westy's for some refreshment and bantering over where to go for dinner.





We strolled back to our room for a bit of college football news and went over our lists of suggested places. We finally opted to go for Gus Fried Chicken, another place to walk to in the cool of the evening. Oh, man, you wouldn't believe the fried chicken! It was a modest and unassuming joint, but filled with folks who obviously enjoyed the fried chicken. Of course we got that with sides of fried green tomatoes and friend dill pickles.



All of this to complete our 'Fry Day'. Then in search of the 'tums'! Oh, what a day!

Memphis sights

It was a very romantic weekend in the way that you fall in love with a place and its inhabitants from the present tense to its past. In such a beautiful and inviting season, the sun, the attitude, the vibe that came from strolling along streets that have seen decades of history in music and trade. The city which felt Southern in nature, but larger than I had imagined and livelier and friendlier than I'd dreamed.




Historical architecture towered above in color and texture and dimension as much as the people walking the streets. Music exuded from the crevices, around corners, rolling out into the streets with a spirit that could catch you up and wrap itself around you and squeeze you until you smiled. Music was in the air.



Shopping at Lansky's clothier at the Peabody. Watching the ducks paddle in the fountain, then on to souvenir shops of postcards and tourist bling on Beale Street with some actual well-defined folk-art mixed in. People gazing and PBRs at the Rum Boogie Cafe and a sparky bartender named Sindy from England. A gathering of artists and musicians filled the park off of Beale Street. It was a lively and happy mix of colors and creations and jumping and joyful sounds. What a day and what a place to be.

Come fly with me, come fly come fly away

Up Up and Away...my man and I had a fantastic getaway thanks to some very special friends and family. A quick drive to Charlotte to catch a straight flight to Blues City. While strolling through the airport, I stopped in the newsstand to pick out my in flight reading 'zine. I heard Vic over my shoulder while I was still perusing my choices, "This is it, Vanity Fair, Johnny Depp is on the cover. You know you want it." nuf said.



We arrived on the sunny banks of the Mississippi around 4 pm, checked in to our cozy room and deposited our belongings. Then we ventured out to see the neighborhood. The lobby doors opened directly out to the trolley line and a park across the way.



As we strolled down a couple of blocks, I looked around the corner to see a neon sign that said 'Bardog'. It was calling our names. We ventured in and discovered our first 'neighborhood' bar and doorway to meeting some really fun people. Not to mention their bar food was excellent. No sooner had we settled in, than three fine gentlemen from Scotland came along and we instantly became friends.





After a jolly old time with them, we had a short rest and went in search of our first Barbecue feast. Our choice of the evening was Charlie Vergo's Rendezvous. The Best dry rub ribs you can fathom, spicy beans and slaw and a pitcher of Michelob. Geez Louise!

We took an after dinner stroll to Beale Street but didn't venture in to the depths of neon profusion and blaring blues. Maybe another night. A nightcap back at the Bardog and rest for day 2.

At my Brother's House

Brother's shed

As August blazed to an end, the family gathered at brother's house for the second anniversary of the birth of our little man, Charlie. It was a sultry summer afternoon on the side porch of the cavernous yet comfy garage filled with artifacts from various and sundry times and collections. Burgers and beans and birthday cake. An audience of a dozen watching the maestro in action, the toddler of two, the center of our universe for this day. We wondered over how our only one missing, Sarah, was faring in her new cozy nest in the borough of Brooklyn, the eye of Irene hovering over, having already wreaked havoc on so many.

The calendar page turns and the days of September bring gentle relief to the long hot summer we've endured. Tropical storms, turbulent up the seaboard, lives and homes upturned, Irene roared all the way to the uplands of Northern New England, relentless to reside over the oceanic waters and ripping apart riverside towns that had no idea what was coming. Even my best loved ones in Vermont had bridges torn apart and repairs to attend to in the aftermath.

A welcomed holiday weekend and gathering with good friends for a pleasant day on the waters of Jocassee. Picnic lunch, balmy breezes, chit-chat and cool dips in the lake, it was so much fun to get away for a day. Dinner and a movie with family, New Orleans style, Jambalaya. Painting projects and chores to complete some of my to-do lists, but never all.



Little GTO

Photos by Thomas Hammond

feasting

'As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.'

Ernest Hemingway 'A Movable Feast'

I am beginning to be happy and to make plans

A feast of nature and the sea is one of the most cleansing and enlivening of epicurean delight, as it usually is a true hands-on experience, removing the shells, or even gathering from the sea. I vividly remember going clam digging as a small child in the Albemarle Sound on the Outer Banks. Wading into the water and scooping up sand laden with clamshells. It was a sport like none other I had experienced at that early age. When we brought them back to the house and my cousin prepared them, they were far too strange and exotic for my limited palate of those days. I was more intoxicated having had the salt water lapping over my knees and elbows and pluff sand underneath my fingernails, the sun blazing on my towhead and bronzing my face and limbs.

These days, I’m happy to say my tastes have changed and I could devour all the shellfish you could pile onto a platter. In answer to that question, what would you have for you last meal? I’d say a plate of oysters on the half shell, with some lemon, hot sauce and horseradish. That is a feast of the gods.

J D water boogie

Summer afternoon. Summer afternoon.
The two most beautiful words in the English language.
- Henry James

ladies of the lake, part deux

cool, calm evening. waterfront
waves lap over rocks
motorboats hum and whir and stir up more waves lapping over rocks
standing surfers skim across the watery surface
tall and tan
with arms that ripple in muscular sculpture
adonis creatures parade before us
relaxing, unwinding
expelling all thoughts that entangle

pan-seared tuna steaks, ravioli stuffed with arugula and parmesan
sauteed in fresh sage, parsley, basil, sea salt and olive oil
black olives and grape tomatoes on the side


why is this lady smiling?

early morning red stripe sunglow over the horizon of the lake
cool breeze morning air
coffee from the italian pot
red razberries, pancakes, maple syrup
Yum!


meandering through the day
take a dip, sunshine slips behind the clouds, paddle upstream
cool breeze, hanging on the shoreline
boat watching, talking, writing, creating, collaborating, contemplating

day three..sunshine, pack up..pack out
swim, float
roll on down the road
up the mountain, past the head of caesar
brevard, hendersonville
west first pizza
Yum!

stormy weather, whipping wind
lights out
Bat Cave, scarecrow ladies stand still along the balustrade
arrive
Geneva Hotel
lights out
power off
tiki bar juking
river flows
bikers paradise

rites of spring...

confirmations, graduations, transitions...

I am returning from an intermission of numerous changes. The measure of time that it has spanned is uncountable at this point,to determine where it all began. So much has changed.

Wrapping up an epoch of studying, searching, trial and error and bouncing back from grossly humbling circumstance. New connections, beginnings and inspirations have given new light to a dark season.

I am packing my gear for the annual 'Ladies of the Lake' camping excursion. I am bound for waterfront relaxation and the company of a dear friend. Plein air art, campfire chat, floating and sunning. Vistas of misty blue mountains, the full moon will be shining down and we will be ensconced in twilight. Summer will move in around us, as if we haven't already had enough heat frustration. We will have the icy cold waters to chill and exhilarate us. I am ready to unload the weight of confusion and break out into a fete of exuberance.

While there are still mountains to conquer and holes to dig out of, I am, piece by piece pitching away the nagging elements that have weighed me down. Small steps back to a normal existence are hard to take patiently. I want to go running to faraway places and exploring paths that I never knew existed.

It is with much contemplation and scrutiny that I have envisioned my path. It is in revelation that my visions are taking shape day by day. However, still my impatience quells my contentment.

I continue to search each day for enlightenment and comfort. I am fortunate to be spending my days with an inspiring group of people. I have so much more to learn and I am lapping it up like creme brulee.

March Madness

Hoop de doo

no mo sno

open windows

blustery days

greening up...seedlings pOp

edibles inch up

fresh herbs are back to savor the pot

wisteria wists

wistful days

lakeside walks, dockside reading

bask
in the resurgence

fresh start

Anew

Like a lion

March roars in.

Pardon my absence of mind, thought, liturgy, rambling...
My favorite quote these days is that I've got so many irons in the fire, I've got blisters on my fingers.

That's a good thing, I guess. Bakeshop trainee, medical office studies, a sassy haircut, appointments stacked up and backed up.

I find myself entranced by color, combing through swatches, testing surfaces, making progress on some furniture painting projects. Always looking for inspiration.



Rummaging for collectables and still dusting off and polishing attic finds.

Candlelight reflections warm the twilight evening.


The antique candlelit mirror was Claude's shaving mirror which hung on the back porch in the days when he lived here.

Jonquil yellow breaks the neutral background in the back yard of bare tree trunks and fallen leaves. Soon a haze of leaflet buds in reds and greens will mist the treetops and hedgerows and in one day they will all POP out. Spring will be sprung. We are lucky to have had a few choice and pleasant midwinter days on the porch.

Happily, growing season is just around the corner.

Clara

Happy Birthday Clara!

Tom

I find it hard to believe that it's been seven years since his departure.

Cycles turn, time passes. Still combing through drawers and boxes, folders and files, often special collections are found. This latest time capsule may have been filed away circa 1982.Photos of him, Matt the toddler, me and Matt, baby Sarah, airplanes, a waterfall, a hot air balloon, a fiddler friend. A page of music, a hymn, a photo of a special project, an envelope addressed 'Papa Hammond', most likely Matt's first handwriting.

Some days I work in his workshop making creations from things he left behind. Sometimes he helps me to find things that are lost, sends me angelic messages, watches over me - my guardian.

Winter Ramblings

On the heels of a snowy and wintry birthday week and on a recent and rare trip into the city, I took a little time to stop in to one of my favorite "junkin" places. 'Shinola' is a den of eccentricity located in a terra cotta brick and mortar strip of storefronts that sat empty until a few short years ago, when a gentleman named Ben dispersed his collection to fill up and spill out into the side yard and parking lot. It is a rambling myriad of thousands of square feet of antiquity.

Lamps, chandeliers, paintings, armoires, statuary, chairs, chairs and more chairs - stacked upside down and every which way; Folk Art, Oriental Art, African Art, chests of drawers, glassware, a long stretch modern vibrant BLUE sofa illuminated by sunlight from the open bay door in the back warehouse, one live honking goose in the garden of well-worn yard art and paraphernalia.

Cupboards, tables, relics, tchotchkes, piled high to the sky and hanging from the rafters. One could spend many hours, yet days perusing the treasures here. Mannequins, tops, bottoms, full body, cardboard celebrity cut-outs, just lifelike enough to make you jump when you turn a corner and come face to face. Rooms that only your toe can enter in to.

I did not take photos, but surely you get the picture. Where some might see chaos, I see a culmination of many great collections gathered up by someone who sees a vision of passage where artifacts transcend their owners and become dispersed into others' collections.

Somehow, I relate to it so well. I liken my surroundings most often to a cross between "Pee Wee's Playhouse" and " Wilson's Five and Dime".

'suzy's shinola'





off to market we go!




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This adventure was followed by a wonderful lunch date of Poblanos and other spicy delights at Compadres with Sandy and Mary Beth. A Happy Happy Birthday Day.

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Another day shortly after that adventure, I joined the 'Tybee Girls' for some retail therapy and lunch, once again in the city. I'm on a roll. We visited Mayme Baker's Studio of Interior Delights. Then ventured down to Main Street to the Christopher Park Gallery of whimsy and folk art creations. Lunch was at their cafe on the side, 'Rainer's' yum - homemade soups and beenie weenies - good, fresh food and surrounded by more whimsy and happy art.

All of the visuals and interactions of this week made for great inspiration in the creative journal. Many things (ideas) are blossoming and SPRING is not far away, Thank Goodness!

Visions

Reflections of a winter's day.

Epiphany

Today I look ahead into a new year, into an always uncertain future.
I treasure the gifts I have been given in this life. I remember the special ones who have given me more than things, but memories and recollections of times full of great fervor. Visions of places I wouldn't have seen otherwise.



Here stands Larry looking out over the great Atlantic near one of the places I believe was closest to his heart, Gloucester, Massachusetts, Rocky Neck. Larry probably visits this spot regularly now from his place above that he recently left us to go to.

He was my long time friend, my mentor, my teacher, my co-worker, a father, a grandfather and a divine artist. He dedicated his life to capturing amazing images of the wintry landscapes of Northern New England, the rolling hillsides of Italy, and the rocky shores of the New England shores. He taught me many things about painting and how to look at the world around us. My walls are scattered with his creations. I've missed seeing him for a number of years, but we still delighted in calling each other on occasion. Now I miss him even more.





paintings by Laurence W. Howard
July 14, 1931 - December 8, 2010

Bottle tree

definitely looks best with a snowy backdrop