Category: Archeology of Home

Independence Day

I missed out on the fireworks last night. And the night before. And tonight I’ll be missing them yet again. On balance, some years we’re able to enjoy them on multiple nights because we celebrate the first, second, third, and Fourth of July in our neck of the woods. Or, as my late father-in-law used to say about his own birthday, we celebrate a birthday season. Why celebrate Independence Day when we can extend America’s birthday to Independence Days?!

So, fireworks or not, I’d like to offer up a few mementos on Independence Days past. The photographs in this post were snapped between 2010 and 2016, making the most recent seven years old. It hardly seems possible! And yet the rituals remain largely unchanged, year-after-year, and that, my friends, is no not a negligible part of the charm.

Independence Day 2011 (Photo: Geo Davis)

Independence Day Fireworks

Although I may have missed the fireworks this year, here are a few reminders of booms and blasts, pyrotechnic palm trees and paisleys, aerial blooms from 2011 and 2016.

Independence Day 2011 (Photo: Geo Davis)

Photographed — in all three cases, as I recall — from the lower deck at the Westport Yacht Club, these iPhone images are at best fuzzy fill-ins for the razzle-dazzle of my memory.

Independence Day 2016 (Photo: Geo Davis)

In this third photograph, a cluster of lights just below the black silhouetted horizon, is the Westport Marina. As a dock boy in the 1980s and 1990s, I remember looking toward the “old public beach“ as colorful mortars were launched in short succession, provoking ooohs and aaahs from boaters and Galley guests.

Independence Day Parade

Although the pomp and circumstance of Independence Day fireworks are inevitably the most dramatic symbol of our nation’s birthday commemoration, the every-other-year Essex parade is almost as popular.

Independence Day 2010 (Photo: Geo Davis)

Fortunately for us, the parade passes directly in front of Rosslyn, affording us front row seats.

Independence Day 2010 (Photo: Geo Davis)

From boats and floats to horses and horsepower, it’s always fun to observe the pageantry.

Independence Day 2010 (Photo: Geo Davis)

Classic cars, tractors, and even an occasional unicycle roll past, tossing candy and tooting horns.

Independence Day 2013 (Photo: Geo Davis)

As I flip through photographs, comparing the years, in struck by how often the same vehicles and the same smiling faces are present.

Independence Day 2013 (Photo: Geo Davis)

And it’s not just muscle cars and nostalgic jalopies that commemorate the birth of our nation. Veterans remind us that the tribute we observe is and was a a patriotic path from nascent democracy to global superpower.

Independence Day 2013 (Photo: Geo Davis)

Gravitas notwithstanding, handsome vehicles like the one below, offer a wistful bridge to times of yore.

Independence Day 2016 (Photo: Geo Davis)

To everyone who organized and participated in our 2023 Independence Day festivities, thank you. It’s a privilege to witness the enthusiasm and merriment each July 4th. And July 3rd. And July 2nd. And July 1st… Happy Independence Day!

July 4, 2023
Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table

I’ve been keeping a little secret. And I’m not quite ready to spill the beans, not 100% at least. That will happen soon enough in a post chronicling the concept-through-construction of a mixed species (ash and elm) “bistro table” built by Ron Bauer this spring. Anticipation is half the pleasure! Until then, today’s post is a sneak peek into the process of tung oiling the ash and elm centerpiece of the main room.

Given the diminutive scale of Rosslyn’s icehouse, each ingredient, design detail, furnishing, and decoration is important and demands intention. A single, small table designed in collaboration with Ron — with whom we’ve teamed up on multiple past projects, from hand turned bowls and custom cutting boards to tables, desks, and builtins — and impeccably crafted by Ron is now receiving 8 to 12 hand applied coats of tung oil, courtesy of Tony Foster.

Tony Sanding Underside of Ash & Elm Table (Photo: Geo Davis)

In the photo above Tony is sanding the table’s underside, skirt, joinery, and legs with ultra fine (1500 grit) sand paper to remove any hour joint irregularities, etc. And in the phot below he’s begun to hand rub (maybe massage is more accurate) the tung oil deep into the ash and elm grain, ensuring total coverage without over-applying, and working strictly with the grain direction.

Tony Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table (Photo: Geo Davis)

Comparing the middle underside and and breadboards to the legs, skirt, and near underside offers an accurate contrast between pre-oil and post-oil.

Prior to diving in I double checked with my brother, Charlie. He’s a seasoned woodworker, and he’s never once lead me astray when it comes to appropriate joinery, finishing, etc. In this case I asked if my instinct to eschew linseed for tung oiling made sense to him.

For the ash, definitely tung oil, I would think. Could even richen the color hues a little. Tung oil is pretty straightforward: the more coats, the better the finish. Wipe it on, wait until just tacky, and rub it off. Use plenty of cloths. And throw them in water when you’re done to avoid fire.

[Linseed]… is less luminescent, by itself. Though if you cut it with mineral spirits and add a polyurethane, you get an oil-like finish with waterproof properties of poly… Linseed oil can discolor paler woods (like ash) making them yellow. — Charlie Davis

It’s always reassuring to have his weigh-in, and the focus and determination that Tony’s bringing to this project inspire plenty of confidence.

Tony Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table (Photo: Geo Davis)

Get ready for the reveal… Soon!

July 5, 2023
Framing Rosslyn

No, it’s not my birthday. Yes, I realize that the image accompanying this post might be confusing. Sorry. Framing Rosslyn recollects a previous post celebrating friend and artist Catherine Seidenberg while marking a rewarding step forward toward furnishing and decorating Rosslyn’s icehouse.

Framing Rosslyn (Artwork: Catherine Seidenberg; Photo: Geo Davis)

As icehouse rehab winds toward the finish line, I’ve been able to begin shifting from construction mode to decorating mode, finally choosing some of the artwork and artifacts that will be joining me in the icehouse soon. Eith the help of my bride and Nico Sardet at Furchgott Sourdiffe Gallery in Shelburne I’ve started to finalize some new framing including this handsome birthday gift from Catherine back in 2016. This remarkable rendering will make its next appearance once framing is complete and it’s hanging in the soon-to-be completely rehabilitated icehouse. Mark. My. Words. (Especially “soon”!)

Custom framing at Furchgott Sourdiffe Gallery means experienced service and attention to detail… [and] extensive design services combined with expert craftsmanship… Archival materials and techniques are used to guarantee preservation of your artwork. (Source: Furchgott Sourdiffe Gallery )

The *Other* Framing

Although the impetus for this post is gratitude for a gift from Catherine and gratitude to Susan and Nico for helping me consider the most suitable frames for the icehouse artwork, I’m also drawn the idea of framing a home. Not just a painting of a home, but the property itself.

I’ve reflected elsewhere on the ways that windows and doors frame exterior views, and even the way that the porosity within a building can frame elements of the interior environment. Perhaps I’m a little obsessive with the ways that hearts become a hole. And the ways that we experience those parts and that whole…

Some years ago when we developed our plans for an historically inspired fence and when we then presented the proposal to the Essex planning board, I tried to convey this notion of framing. The fence, running between the north and south property lines, parallel to the sidewalk and road, and parallel to Lake Champlain, helped define and delineate Rosslyn. Not as a home, but as a property. A collection of four buildings that are related to one another. A cohesive and integrated tableau writ large.

The desire to explore the interrelatedness of these historic buildings through stonewalls and landscaping has been one of the most enjoyable endeavors over the last seventeen years. A slow motion sculpting of Rosslyn’s almost 70 acres into an aesthetically and functionally appealing program, discrete elements coalescing into a logical and well integrated experience. The relationships between the discreet parts — in some cases fixed in brick and mortar, in other cases evolving gradually with experimentation, maturation of flora, and the patina-ing and aging of the built environment — continue to meld with revision and the passage of time. Editing and reevaluating help distill the successful initiatives from this best abandoned. And little by little relationships develop, an affinity emerges. A wholeness, set apart from surroundings. Or so I conceive as, little by little, we strive to frame Rosslyn…

July 3, 2023
Chilled Dairy Free Broccoli Soup

It’s been a hot and steamy Independence Day weekend so far. When we entertained family last night I wanted to prepare something light and garden-fresh to transition into dinner. With the first crop of our Brassica oleracea var. italica succession crop ready to eat, we opted for a chilled dairy free broccoli soup.

Chilled Dairy Free Broccoli Soup (Photo: Geo Davis)

Let’s begin at the beginning. We grow several varieties of broccoli (Brassica oleracea var. italica) under row covers in 2-3 succession plantings (and/or transplanting) to ensure vibrant, pest free, flavor and nutrient rich abundance. So. Much. Green.

Broccoli in the Garden (Photo: Geo Davis)

For steaming and eating hot, chopping into crudités and enjoying cold with hummus or dip, juicing into ultra-green magic potion, and puréeing into a refreshing summer soup, broccoli is one of our vegetable garden all stars.

Harvesting Homegrown Broccoli (Photo: Geo Davis)

Green perfection! The massive organic broccoli florets in the photo above overshadow the diminutive cluster of hammocks in the distance. I enjoy the contrast (and the rightful reign of this nutrition superhero!)

Broccoli, Radishes, and Summer Squash (Photo: Geo Davis)

In the photo above a pair of colorful companions (radishes for crudités and yellow summer squash to be thinly sliced on the mandolin and mixed into a green bean salad with vinaigrette), harvested during the same veggie garden excursion, are washed and standing by. Technicolor flavor bombs ready for action!

Garlic Scapes, and Spring Onions, and Broccoli (Photo: Geo Davis)

And speaking of flavor, there are a pair of hidden-but-not-secret ingredients with which I complemented this chilled dairy free broccoli soup. Garlic scapes and spring onions from our Full and By Farm share, sautéed in olive oil to soften the fibers and release the savory deliciousness were then tossed into a blender and puréed. Liquified, really, to ensure it mixes with the steamed and puréed broccoli and the boiled and puréed potatoes.

Sautéing Garlic Scapes and Spring Onions (Photo: Geo Davis)

What do I miss. Ah, right, the dairy free twist. Obviously sautéing in olive oil rather than butter is the first step, and then thinning the blended soup with a non-dairy alternative. My go-to would be unsweetened (and no vanilla) macadamia milk, which would’ve worked perfectly in the soup. But we had none, so I substituted an unsweetened, vanilla-free almond milk. And it worked out pretty well!

A fair amount of chilling is key to develop and meld the flavors, so I moved the pot into the fridge for a little R&R. Once chilled, I whisked and seasoned the chilled dairy free broccoli soup with some lemon juice, celery, salt, and white pepper. Tada! So refreshing.

July 2, 2023
First Forays in Vermont Dory

This post began as “Maiden Voyages in Vermont Dory”, but the title struck me as somewhat tone deaf at a time when we endeavor to sidestep gender sloppiness. Especially since I’m not a maiden. Nor a bachelor. Nor, frankly, does gender matter at all. And so, “First Forays in Vermont Dory” was born. Better. But now I’m realizing that “foray” borrows unnecessarily from the bellicose verbiage of our day… Busy brain!

And this — busyness of the brain — is actually the pithy point of this post.

First Forays in Vermont Dory (Photo: Geo Davis)

Yesterday morning and this morning mark my much anticipated transition into rowing. First forays in my newly acquired Vermont dory, a still half baked but enthusiastic embrace of early morning (and early evening) rowing as a counterpoint to my bike rides. More on this rowing and riding balance in a moment, but first a little context.

I’ve been lusting after an Adirondack Guideboat, well, probably since the late 1970’s when I enjoyed my first rowed ride in this quintessentially ADK conveyance at the Ausable Club. During the early days of the pandemic my mind returned this timeless watercraft, as elegant today as it was in the 1800s, and somehow inviting wistfuldaydreams of calmer, simpler times. I connected with the good folks at Adirondack Guideboat, and began to educate myself. They tried to convince me that a 14′ Vermont Dory, their most popular boat, was better suited to my location. Three summers later, after a 2022 return visit to revisit consideration with brother owners, Justin and Ian Martin, I decided it was time to commit.

That green beauty above is my new skiff, a cherry trimmed Kevlar Vermont dory perfectly suited to ply the early morning and early evening waters of Lake Champlain.
(Source: Adirondack Guideboat or Vermont Dory)

And what fun it is!

Yes, rowing is core and upper body exercise, both having been too long neglected by me. Biking in warmer months and skiing in colder months keep the bottom half of my body in decent shape. But it turns out that plunking keys on a keyboard do little good and plenty of bad for the body. I’m hoping that mixing it up between the dory and the bike might begin to get my upper and lower del es back in sync. Rowing my way towards a healthier body.

But that’s only part of the package. Remember, mens sana in corpore sano. A healthy mind and a healthy body. So resyncing the bod via two oars and a green dory would be good. Resyncing the mind *AND* bod? Genius!

And this brings me back to busy brain. I’ve long understood that an angsty mind — ants in my gray matter?! — is a deficit worth addressing. But understanding it and resolving it are two different things.

To be sure, exercise in general is helpful for me. Direct the excess energy into motion, and the body feels better. I think better. I sleep better. I husband better.

Our recent 2-week walkabout reminded me how paddling (and hopefully rowing) settles the cerebrum and cerebellum. Oar-sports lend themselves to mindfulness. For me, at least. Physical but repetitive. Meditative, at least in the settings and conditions that appeal to me.

So I’m throwing myself into the arms of a 14’ dory and a pair of oars. Both trimmed in cherry. Both as handsome as they are nimble and water worthy.

Thank you, Adirondack Guideboat. I look forward to this rowing life.

June 30, 2023
Rain Drenched Orchard

To say that it’s been soggy lately would usher restraint and understatement into new chapters. Yesterday’s super saturating deluge came on the heels of day-after-day drizzles and downpours. This evening’s rain drenched orchard snapshots hint at some pros and cons of rain, rain, rain,…

Rain Drenched Orchard (Photo: Geo Davis)

Let’s start with the lush tree foliage and grass. The verdant canopies and remarkable new growth. The ubiquitous green!

No drought here, ladies and gentlemen.

On the contrary, the ground is spongy. Practically boggy. And some vegetable plants in the garden are even slightly anemic, healthy green paling to a sickly yellow-green from wet roots.

Rain Drenched Orchard (Photo: Geo Davis)

The rain drenched orchard nevertheless appears healthy. Lots of baby apples promise a robust harvest in 2-3 months. Unfortunately two applications of kaolin clay — part of our holistic orcharding regimen — have been rinsed off, leaving fruit and leaves vulnerable to pests. As soon as the rain abates for a stretch we’ll apply s third coat.

June 29, 2023
First Poppies of Summer
Yesterday’s nod to Hemerocallis Fulva, notwithstanding, my floral fondness for Papavers is an open secret. Who am I kidding? It’s no secret at all! So I brimmed with jubilation when Pam surprised me today, with our first poppies of summer. I was euphoric!

Pam Offering the First Poppies of Summer (Photo: Geo Davis)

And so a spontaneous haiku was born…

Summer’s First Poppies
```
Summer’s first poppies:
petite preemies, delicate,
fuzzy, threadlike stems. 
```
Perfection at quarter scale. Stems almost too slight to support the floppy blooms. Vulnerable. Durable. Both.

First Poppies of Summer (Photo: Geo Davis)

I remember a previous pensé on poppies and haiku. It perfectly applies to these first poppies of summer.

Almost ephemeral brevity, stark minimalism, and — at best — a tingly eureka moment overlap haiku’s distinctive hallmark. Delicate. Vigorous. As unlikely a juxtaposition as poppies. Exuding a fragility and sparseness, but remarkably robust and resilient, the poppy is the haiku of flowers… (Source: Poppy Poems)

Poppies. Haiku. Perhaps they’re cousins?
June 28, 2023
Hemerocallis Fulva

Hallelujah! The daylilies (Hemerocallis fulva) are blooming. That, THAT is the color and exuberance of early summer. Sometimes known as Fourth of July Daylilies because their bloom time (in the northeast) roughly corresponds to Independence Day, Hemerocallis fulva have begun to erupt into spectacular fireworks-esque blossoms about a week ahead of schedule. Must be the intermittent but persistent rain.

Hemerocallis Fulva (Photo: Geo Davis)

Daylilies Abloom

Although my floral polyamory (flower zealotry?) is wide ranging and broadly inclusive, summertime vibes are captured in a quasi Norman Rockwell way when Hemerocallis fulva joins the fête. What?!?!

No, that wasn’t a challenge — can you work, polyamory, zealotry, inclusivity, and Norman Rockwell into the same sentence? — but I concede a slightly self indulgent surrogate *MAY* have hijacked the keyboard. But I’m back at the helm. Back to basics…

Hemerocallis fulva, the orange day-lily,^[3]tawny daylily, corn lily, tiger daylily, fulvous daylily, ditch lily or Fourth of July lily (also railroad daylily, roadside daylily, outhouse lily, and wash-house lily),^{[citation needed]} is a species of daylily…
(Source: Wikipedia)

A daylily by any other name. Hemerocallis fulva by rights (but least applied name.)

Just beginning to bloom in the last couple of days. Should be a tiger orange riot by Indepence Day. And then a chance to gather the expired blooms for a meal or two.

What?!?!

Hemerocallis Fulva (Photo: Geo Davis)

Daylilies are not only edible, they are spectacular…

Let me start by saying that edible daylilies are the common daylily, Hemerocallis fulva, as well as its various Hemerocallis friends and relatives…
(Source: Hank Shaw, Hunt Gather Cook)

Perfect. Hemerocallis fulva is exactly what we have in abundance at Rosslyn, so I declare a feast. But how?

According to Shaw, the best way to dine on Hemerocallis fulva is to sauté the unopened flower buds in butter and salt.

Delicious. Briefly cooked, the buds have a bit of knacken, a German expression meaning a “pop.” Yet the insides reminded me of squash blossoms. The taste? Green, with a whiff of radish and a dash of green bean. Honestly, I’d eat this as a side dish any day, any place. It needs nothing else.
(Source: Hank Shaw, Hunt Gather Cook)

That’ll be clarified butter (aka ghee) for me in order to juggle my lamentably dairy free diet. I’ve also read that the post-bloom flowers are tasty, especially when dried and added to soups and stews. Time for a little experimentation…

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ct_wlDGgwi6/

A harvesting I go…

June 27, 2023
Dockside Monochrome
Mercurial, unsettled weather lately. Pendulum swings. Dark and light. Sunny and soggy. Unsettled hours and days. My moody meditation is inspired by this dockside monochrome.

Snapped this photo after an unsuccessful first foray into waterskiing and freshwater surfing for the 2023 season. Too rough. Susan tried. A valiant effort. Abbreviated…

Dockside Monochrome (Photo: Geo Davis)

Today’s words and thoughts are also abbreviated. An abridged initiative. Venturing out. Briefly. Then returning to safe harbor.

Dockside Monochrome
```
Moody mornings and 
monochrome afternoons
re-recalibrating,
observing, listening,
trying to remember. 
Or, maybe, to forget
for a little longer,
for rhythm re-syncing,
for watery waves,
for whispering winds,
for yes-yielding,
for exhaling,
for reboot,
for today,
for us,
for now.
```
Perhaps a miniature video clip better approximates this liminal moment…

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ct-Qzo9AHHc/
June 26, 2023
Fowl Fertilizer

When it comes to organic lawncare for our holistic home, I’m enthusiastic about composted manure. From locally sourced cow manure and alpaca “beans” to not-so-locally sourced bat guano, we find that nature offers up some of the healthiest nutrients for cultivating gardens, orchards, lawns, etc. Hurrah for free, 100% organic fowl fertilizer!

Fowl Fertilizer: Canada Geese greening the grass (Photo: Tony Foster)

Waterfront Waterfowl

The photograph above, captured discretely by Tony Foster on Friday morning, shows more than a dozen Canada Geese fertilizing Rosslyn’s waterfront grass.

In addition to seasonal aeration of the lawns surrounding our home and outbuildings, we also apply organic (bat guano derived) fertilizer every year or two. But, given proximity to Lake Champlain, we avoid fertilizing the grass adjoins Rosslyn’s beach. Abundant wild waterfowl (mostly Canada geese and mallards) ensure that this lawn gets plenty of natural nutrients nevertheless.

Foul Fowl Fertilizer?

Although I’ve never had the opportunity to use chicken manure, I’ve anecdotally heard that it’s an exceptional fowl fertilizer. Maybe. But our fowl fertilizer is free! And so far as I can tell, it is very effective.

But — yes, there’s always a “but“, right? — my beautiful bride would hasten to add that Canada geese and mallard s**t peppering the lawn where swimmers walk barefoot isn’t ideal. And Carley has the disagreeable habit of scarfing up this free fertilizer before it has a chance to perform it’s magic on the grass. Few things trigger Susan more than having to intervene when Carley is Hoovering fowl fertilizer!

Fortunately, spring and autumn are especially welcoming for the foul fertilizers. Our daily presence and heightened summer activity along the waterfront prompt most of the Canada geese and mallards to find less peopled property.

June 25, 2023
Heaven Can Wait

“Heaven can wait…” while we enjoy the inimitable crunch of June: French breakfast radishes!

French breakfast radishes: Heaven can wait! (Photo: Geo Davis)

Remember when I asked if you were ready for radish time? Well, it’s upon us. Lots. Of. Radishes. French breakfast radishes, my favorite, to be precise. That slightly spicy, slightly sweet crunch is sooo satisfying. For breakfast. For lunch. For dinner. For snacks all day long.

French Breakfast Radishes

For the uninitiated, I’m a bit of a garden geek. And radishes, in all their punchy, hyper saturated color, flavor, and ASMR glory are one of my early season favorites.

The French Breakfast Radish (Raphanus sativus) is red-skinned root vegetable… with a white splash at the root end… [that] is distinguished by its oblong shape… [and mild flavor] if harvested and eaten early. Widely considered a spring radish, the French Breakfast Radish is ideally grown and harvested when temperatures are still cool. Hotter temperatures increase the “spiciness” (peppery bitterness common to most radishes) and often result in a pithy interior.
(Source: French Breakfast Radish)

So the increasingly hot weather (and the week of rain in the forecast) threaten to abbreviate prime time for radishes. So, we’re enjoying them without restraint!

And not just the tasty red and white roots. We added radish greens to the succulent homegrown spinach we wok-sautéed with garlic and olive oil last night. Sublime.

As with standard radish varieties, the “radish greens” of the French Breakfast Radish can also be eaten. Washed and tossed into a saucepan of olive oil (or avocado oil), garlic, and onion, this wilted green is a delicious accompaniment to just about any meal!
(Source: French Breakfast Radish)

And, have I mentioned that they are remarkably easy to grow?

French breakfast radishes (Illustration: Geo Davis)

Heaven Can Wait

Cue Dean Martin’s “Heaven Can Wait”.

Heaven can wait, heaven can wait.
This is just paradise being here with you.
“Heaven Can Wait”, Dean Martin

A little piece of paradise, French breakfast radishes, just being here with you…

June 24, 2023
Iconic Adirondack Chair

So many sweet moments as I re-enter our Adirondack Coast orbit, and this one is less verbal than visual rumination. I’m thinking of the iconic Adirondack chair that appears all around the world.

Iconic Adirondack Chair (Photo: Geo Davis)

And all around the world is not an exaggeration. In fact, the iconic Adirondack chairs in this post were photographed by me a few days ago in Algonquin Provincial Park, a day’s drive away in Canada.

Everywhere you go, Adirondack chairs. At least, everywhere serene, soothing, and inviting!

Let’s revisit an earlier look at the iconic Adirondack chair.

Adirondack Chairs, originally invented by Thomas Lee in 1903… copied and adapted by countless carpenters since… [and patented by] Harry C. Bunnel… without his [Lee’s] permission… Lee seems to have been gracious and let the matter go, permitting his friend to produce the Adirondack chairs for profit for a quarter century. (Source: Adirondack Chairs Revisited)

As we wound down our 2-week adventure between Santa Fe and Essex — by way of Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, North Dakota, Manitoba, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ontario, and Quebec — we came upon these familiar recliners while staying at Killarney Lodge in Algonquin Park. And despite the fact that we were still a 6 1/2 hour drive from Essex, we began to feel like we were almost home.

Iconic Adirondack Chair (Photo: Geo Davis)

And, now that we’re once again installed in our Adirondack Coast oasis, lolling in our comfy lakeside recliners we realize that these iconic Adirondack chairs have become a sort of metaphorical umbilical cord, no matter where we wander, to the lifestyle we love at Rosslyn.

June 22, 2023