Spring along the Adirondack Coast tempts us with plenty of enticing seasonal flavors, but a personal favorite is the sweet tart medley of local maple syrup and homegrown rhubarb. Although we’re still a little shy of rhubarb time, the maple syrup is standing by, and my imagination is conjuring up this springtime staple. It’s as perfectly paired with a steaming cup of morning tea or coffee as with grilled protein and a spring mixed green salad.
Rosslyn Rhubarb Time (Photo: Geo Davis)
The images in today’s post, rhubarb photos that I posted on Instagram back in 2021, were inspired when Pam thrust a healthy handful of rhubarb stems into my grateful paw one morning. They’re a pinch more poignant now because our rhubarb crowns were accidentally rolled under last spring and we haven’t yet propagated a new generation.
Now that I’ve dangled the palate puckering temptation of rhubarb sautéed in maple syrup I’m going to ask your forbearance as I take a brief detour. I’ll get back to the super simple recipe in a moment.
But first an amuse-gueule: rhubarb haiku.
Rosslyn Rhubarb Time (Photo: Geo Davis)
Rhubarb Haiku
Still chill, spring soil parts.
Green, red, unclenching, stalking,
sweet tart rhubarb.
When spring’s still inhospitable weather and clammy soil don’t seem to suggest this potent plant coming forth, just then, it does. Courageous and colorful. A fist unfurling from the earth, stretching out into impossibly lush, almost tropical, foliage. It is rhubarb time again.
Perhaps this tangle of tartness and sweetness, cool climate growth and tropical semblance, is the allure of rhubarb time.
Rosslyn Rhubarb Time (Photo: Geo Davis)Rosslyn Rhubarb Time (Photo: Geo Davis)
Rosslyn Rhubarb Time
Rhubarb was one of my first forays into homegrown edibles back in 2007. I transplanted several crowns from my parent’s Rock Harbor property. We did not yet own the acreage west of the barns, so I hadn’t even begun to conceive of the gardens and orchard that we’ve been fortunate to develop since acquiring the first portion of our backland from Greystone in 2008/9.
I propagated the transplanted rhubarb crowns directly to the south of the carriage barn within the stone foundation of a long gone lean-to addition to the barn that may have at one point housed animals judging from the fertile soil. Combined with sunlight and heat reflected off of the carriage barn’s southern facade, this proved a productive microclimate for rhubarb (and asparagus) in those early years.
When fortune cast her benevolent gaze upon us, allowing us to add +/-28 acres to Rosslyn, I transplanted the rhubarb (and the asparagus) to a new location about 100 feet west of the carriage barn, where the plants would benefit from plenty of sunlight. These hardy perennials served as reliable forerunners for today’s productive vegetable and fruit gardens.
Their propagation served another symbolic, if sentimental, importance to me. Both — Rosslyn’s rhubarb and Rosslyn’s asparagus — were transplanted from existing beds that my mother had previously transplanted from our childhood home (see “Homeport in Wadhams, NY”) to Rock Harbor a couple of decades prior. A continuity reaching back to childhood, a lineage of homes, and a meaningful association with my mother, the self taught gardener who exposed me as a boy to the uniquely fulfilling practice of germinating, propagating, cultivating, harvesting, preparing, and sharing homegrown food. A perennial interconnectedness.
Rock Harbor Rhubarb Time
Turning back the clock a dozen years to May 31, 2011 I posted about harvesting Rock Harbor rhubarb some 5-6 years prior. (If lost in the math, the following refers to the time when Susan and I were contemplating the still-unlikely possibility of moving from New York City to the North Country. Rosslyn was still more playful pipedream than reality.)
We walked down the road from the tennis court and stopped off at my parents’ house, still closed up for the winter. It would be several weeks before my parents arrived in Rock Harbor for the summer, and by then the asparagus would have gone to seed, so we picked enough for dinner and enough extra to bring back to the city for another meal.
I also picked a fistful of rhubarb to sauté with maple syrup for dessert. Susan disliked rhubarb, but I loved the lip puckering tartness. The taste transports me instantly to The Farm. (Source: The Farm)
Rock Harbor Rhubarb (Source: Geo Davis)
Much as our Rock Harbor rhubarb bridged time and place, Rosslyn’s rhubarb had become a seasonal reconnection bridge to a timeless tapestry of family, gardening, meals shared, and home oases.
Before I slide further down the slippery slope of sentimentality, I’d better get on with that recipe!
Maple Rhubarb Recipe
This maple rhubarb recipe may well be the simplest how-to you’ve ever come across. Sometimes the best recipes are the simplest!
Trim rhubarb ends to remove any leaf remnants (which are toxic to humans due to high levels of oxalic acid.)
Trim rhubarb ends to remove earthy bits.
Chop rhubarb into 1/2″ to 3/4″ pieces.
Fill a saucepan about halfway full of chopped rhubarb, and place on low heat.
Add a cup of water and a teaspoon of vanilla.
Cover the sauce pan and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring periodically to ensure even sautéing.
Once the rhubarb has begun to break down evenly, add a dash of cinnamon
Add maple syrup to taste.
Top this quick dessert/snack with whipped cream, vanilla ice cream, or a dollop of vanilla yoghurt. (If you’re dairy free, as I am, substitute your preferred alternative!)
The sweet tart flavor profile of sautéed maple rhubarb is so unique, so scintillating, so memorable that my taste buds are tingling as I write these words. Enjoy.
In keeping with the modesty of our Amish neighbors, this morning I would like to offer an understated but respectful nod to the family who have been helping us maintain and nurture Rosslyn’s grounds over the past year. No personal portraits and no names. No website and no Instagram handle. But plenty of respect and gratitude to the kindhearted, hardworking men and women who help empower our stewardship of Rosslyn’s ample responsibilities and resources as well as groundskeeping at our ADK Oasis Lakeside and ADK Oasis Highlawn guest accommodations.
Among the Amish: One Horsepower (Photo: Geo Davis)
I’ll allow these images of horse and buggy to stand in for the individuals whose disciplined humility belies their industry, tenacity, and spirited nature.
We’re grateful to our Amish community for assistance nurturing Rosslyn’s organic vegetable, fruit, and flower gardens; our holistic orchard and vineyard; and 60+ acres of landscape.
[…]
One nearby Amish family has been trafficking between our properties, learning quickly what each garden, each plant, each property needs. (Source: Amish Assistance)
Pam’s gratitude for their mettle and endurance is especially notable, as circumstances have obliged her to evolve her business in an increasingly administrative and organizational capacity. Juggling a half dozen properties within our extended family (as well as additional properties for other clients) and project managing demanding construction projects for us leaves little opportunity for gardening, orcharding, landscape maintenance, wood splitting, and countless other chores that our Amish friends have willingly taken on.
Among the Amish: Buggy & Barn (Photo: Geo Davis)
Amish Buggy Haiku
Air conditioning even when the horsepower is pausing to graze.
There’s something slightly pastoral, slightly romantic about the buggy and barn snapshot above, and perhaps the haiku as well. And do I close with another gratitude, for life and work among the Amish offers this additional perk. Recalibrating and picturesque, their welcome presence and participation affords us opportunities to pause and contemplate a life lived differently from our own. And oh-so photogenic!
I’m verily inspired by potsherds and beach glass, coal fragments, and other detritus churned up on Rosslyn’s waterfront. Or disinterred from the yard while planting a garden or building a stone wall. I stall a while and meditate on the process of fragmenting, the potential for reimagining artifacts. I wonder about dark or damaged backstories, sharp shards, mollified by time’s persistent palliative pressure into “worry beads” carried and caressed like the glass glob I carried in my pocket for several years as a totem, a talisman, a pocket palliative for angst. Imagine delightful detritus strung into necklaces, assembled in mosaics, relics rhymed in song, or puzzle-pieced into a poem.
Relics Rhymed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Relics Rhymed
I gather fragments wrought asunder by great gusts, gales, and tempestuous tantrums of feuding forces, jagged shards tumbled in the roiling surf, defanged, lenified, smoothed, polished, and rhymed by the tides of time, memory’s meager mitigating reach.
A runaway run-on identifying as a poem, a piece of a poem, a poetry puzzle piece,… Make of it what you wish. Those last two lines are a piece of what I’ve been wrestling with in many ways. In what ways does the past extend into the present? To and through the bits and pieces proffered by history, inherited evidence of a long before, timeless tidbits ostensibly proving our place in the river of life and death, creation and destruction? Do these artifacts salve us?
Many questions. Few answers.
Wanting wonder, I’ll simply allow that — as so often — relics rhymed.
I’m a fan of train travel, so I’m especially joy-filled now that Amtrak service between Manhattan and Montreal has been restored to service. No finer way to travel between New York City and the Adirondack Coast. Actually, let me amend that opinion. There’s plenty of pleasure arriving at the train station in Westport, our closest passenger stop. But can you imagine for a moment being able to board and disembark from Amtrak’s Adirondack just up the road? That’s right, restoring service to the long ago discontinued Essex Railroad Station would indeed be the finest way to locomote between NYC and SX!
Before inspecting the photographs adorning the vintage postcards above and below, let’s familiarize ourselves with the above mentioned train know by Amtrak as the Adirondack.
The Adirondack travels from New York City, through the lush wine country of the Hudson Valley, into Montreal. Heading north, you’re scheduled to depart New York’s Moynihan Train Hall in the morning and arrive in Montreal in the evening. Board the southbound train anywhere along the line and arrive in mid-town Manhattan in time to enjoy dinner and nightlife in New York City. (Source: Amtrak)
While growing up in the Adirondacks — and more recently when Susan and I still volleyed back-and-forth between Manhattan and Westport then Essex) — the Adirondack was my go-to transportation by convenience and preference. Although the timing/schedule can be unpredictable, I’ve consistently opted for Amtrak to shuttle me between New York City and the Adirondack Coast for the better part of half a century. The brief blurb above does little justice to this spectacular journey skirting the Hudson River, Champlain Canal, and Lake Champlain.
Sadly the route was suspended during the pandemic and only resumed service a little over a month ago. Welcome back, Adirondack!
Amtrak, in conjunction with VIA Rail Canada (VIA Rail), New York State Department of Transportation (NYSDOT) and other federal agencies, is resuming train service between New York City and Montreal via the Adirondack train today, Monday, April 3. This milestone marks the return of all Amtrak and VIA Rail cross border service between the United States and Canada for the first time since 2020 and aligns with the growing demand of train travel in both countries. (Source: Amtrak)
After roughly three years’ absence, the restored service is long overdue and widely praised.
“The cultural riches and natural beauty along the Adirondack train route amount to an experience that is unlike anything else in the world, and it highlights the importance of this service – making it easy and fun for travelers to be able to enjoy the unique treasures of the Empire State,” said New York State Department of Transportation Commissioner Marie Therese Dominguez. (Source: Amtrak)
At this point my love for this train route is evident, but I’ve neglected the present postcards (and my hope that possibly, just possibly, one day we’ll again enjoy an Essex Railroad Station!)
Both of these sepia hued images of yesteryear document the former Essex Railroad Station. Not sure when or how the building was lost, but I’ll update if/when I find out.
And if you’re the curious sort, as I am, I’ve included the backsides of the postcards. Turning your device sidewise reveals the amusing note on the first card.
Last Thrusday’s Full and By Farm share pickup included baking pumpkins and carrots. Fall fare. There was plenty more in the share, but these two struck a Saturday morning brunch chord while speaking with Sarah Kurak. So mentioned a recipe she’d used for baking pumpkin carrot muffins. “Delicious,” she said.
I imagined them into existence during my short drive back the house.
“Guess what,” I teased my bride.
“You want to feed Griffin dinner?” she asked, raising her eyebrows optimistically?
I told her that I was going to bake gluten free pumpkin carrot muffins on Saturday morning. “We can sleep in,” I tempted. “And then I’ll make homemade muffins. From scratch. The who house will smell like a pumpkin pie tango-ing with a carrot cake!”
She laughed. And probably forgot. Until Saturday. When the whole house smelled like pumpkin pie tango-ing with a carrot cake. No. Better.
A quick dip into the interwebs introduced me to Nicole Hunn (@gfshoestring). She must have dropped off a batch of her Pumpkin Carrot Muffins in Mountain View, California for the search doctors to gobble up for breakfast because Google loves her!
And I’m not surprised, because a dozen delicious gluten free pumpkin carrot muffins later my bride and I are now BIG fans. Maybe it’s because her recipe is really for cupcakes, not muffins, but what’s the difference. Carrots, pumpkin, eggs from the local CSA? That’s healthy! That more than qualified these delicious breakfast treats for muffin status.
And then this serendipitous tweet inspired me to take the plunge
Creativity is a natural extension of our enthusiasm. ~ Earl Nightingale #creativity#quote
It reminds me of the decidedly unclever but honest way I describe my dancing: what I lack in skill I make up with enthusiasm. I love to dance. But I’ll never be on Dancing with the Stars. Some day I’ll share a few of my moves. A few because that’s all there are! Or better yet, I’ll tell you the story my first dance experience. In middle school. Embarrassing. Scarring. But that juicy morsel for another day.
For now, the world’s most delicious (and healthy) gluten free pumpkin carrot muffins.
Before proceeding, I should mention a few deviations from Ms. Hunn’s recipe. I skipped the raisins and the chocolate chips. My bride dislikes the former and experiences life threatening allergies to the latter. I also opted for organic canola oil in place of all oil/butter, and I replaced half of the sugar with stevia.
En route to homemade gluten free pumpkin carrot muffins… Yum or yuck? We'll soon find out! @ Rosslyn http://t.co/msYZ1u21
We ate our first muffins hot out of the oven. I melted a bit of butter inside. Hot tea. Birds at the bird feeder. Bluebird skies. Late morning, but still in pajamas and bath robes. In short, the odds were stacked. And yet, I feel comfortable saying that the muffins were delicious. It wasn’t just that the moment was ripe. The muffins were amazing!
We had seconds. Thirds. Fourths.
Really.
I’m not exaggerating. They were that good. You might want to give Ms. Hunn’s recipe a try. After all, culinary creativity is a natural (and inevitable) extension of our enthusiasm. Which reminds me, you may want to try a few funky 1980’s dance moves while you’re running the blender…
Hyde Gate (aka Rosslyn) in Essex, New York (Illustration by Kate Boesser for All My Houses, By Sally Lesh)
Reinvention is woven intricately, inextricably into Rosslyn’s DNA. This home, this property, this history endure some two hundred years (and more) after W.D. Ross first built his home on the Champlain Valley’s fertile shore in no small part because of this legacy of renewal. It’s as if Rosslyn, in addition to historic buildings and generous grounds, is a nimble spirit distinguished by her imagination, her reimagination, a force that fuels her adaptability.
Every project is an opportunity to learn, to figure out problems and challenges, to invent and reinvent. — David Rockwell
Rosslyn is protean, evolving again and again, morphing and adapting, fulfilling diverse functions across two centuries. She is perhaps best defined by this tradition of perennial reinvention and renewal.
Sherwood Inn (Antique Postcard)
Reinventing Rosslyn
Although we knew virtually nothing about Rosslyn’s history when in 2006 we became her new homeowners, I have since discovered and learned to appreciate her long legacy of reinvention. This quality is in no small part responsible for her endurance and longevity, I suspect. Born a lakeside homestead for William Daniel Ross (aka W.D Ross), an Essex founding father, Rosslyn became the progenitor of Merchant Row followed in turn by Sunnyside and Greystone. Whether as residence, seasonal home, and vacation rental (see “Sally Lesh & Hyde Gate” and “Hyde Gate for Sale or Rent“) or for some decades as the Sherwood Inn (see “Vintage Sherwood Inn Advertisement” and “Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s“). Rosslyn’s illustrious buildings and grounds have adapted again and again to the needs of her times and her owners.
Susan and my Rosslyn reinvention (2006-present) has sought to reawaken the property as a welcoming sanctuary — a healthy, holistic homestead; an oasis for family and friends; and a safe haven for our wild neighbors — that will endure and thrive for at least another two centuries. From an unwavering commitment to non-toxic, ecologically responsible renovation, construction, and designas well as our 100% organic and holistic gardening practices to our habitat preservation and rewilding initiatives, we have embraced Rosslyn’s intrinsic inclination for renewal.
Rosslyn & Reinvention (Photo: Geo Davis)
As we endeavor to bring closure to the icehouse rehabilitation project, the newest chapter in our ongoing reinvention of Rosslyn’s historic buildings, I find myself considering the property’s future. What might future homeowners deem optimal for Rosslyn? How will she continue to evolve and adapt as future generations tap into her spirit of reinvention?
Looks like my spring 2023 veggie garden exuberance (and perennially Pollyanna optimism) served me poorly. As we all well know from the time tempered tale of Daedalus and Icarus, the consequences of taking risks can send us plunging. Or, in the case of cheating the calendar by prematurely planting tomatoes, tomatillos, and other delicate spring starts in the hoop house, the fickle fates can zap our healthy vegetable transplants. Ouch! The consequences of high tunnel hubris is at once humbling and heartbreaking.
High Tunnel Hubris: Damaged Peppers (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Rewind the calendar a few weeks. I was chomping at the proverbial bit, anxious to get plants into the ground, overconfident that the high tunnel would take the sting out of any late frosts.
There’s something about springtime, about gardening, about the promise of colorful blooms and produce that I’m finding too tempting to resist… with all the enthusiasm and optimism of an almost 100% planted garden. May 2023 be as abundant as 2022!(Source: Giebel Garden Flashback)
For a couple of months, we’d been monitoring a dozen data logging thermometers positioned strategically throughout the high tunnel. I made the apparently ill informed decision that we were ready.
High Tunnel Hubris: Freeze Watch (Source: Apple Weather)
I’ve learned again, and again that worrying about the weather is an unhealthy and unhelpful practice. So I won’t. Or, I will try not to worry. Nature, benevolent nature, will offer us what she considers right. (Source: Giebel Garden Flashback)
Benevolent, yes, in the grand scheme of things. But the peaks and valleys of nature’s day-to-day EKG is perhaps, slightly less benevolent.
This will be our second season high tunneling, but it’s our first opportunity to jumpstart planting (by about two weeks).
[…]
We’re tempting fate by leapfrogging the typical Mother’s Day planting date, crossing our fingers, and imagining tomatoes by the 4th of July. (Source: Green Zebras 1st in High Tunnel)
There it is: “tempting fate“. No blame, except my own optimism. I understood the stakes. I understood the risks. And I understood the consequences. But, friends, I find no analgesic in any of this today.
High Tunnel Hubris: Damaged Tomatoes (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
With metaphorically melted wings and a painful plunge, it’s now time to regroup. Time to triage.
High Tunnel Hubris: Damaged Eggplant (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Geo: How do the damaged plants look?
Pam: Not good. Looks like three tomato plants survived. Possibly lost all of the tomatillos as well.
Geo: Crushing. Hardly seems possible. Let’s allow them to adjust. Tomatoes may send out new shoots. Tomatillos too, but less likely.
Pam: The garden is fighting me this year. Soaker hoses and timers have been a struggle.
High Tunnel Hubris: Damaged Peppers (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Although the perspective is pretty bleak, at this point, I’m tentatively hopeful that some of the tomatoes may recover. If the soil was warm enough, the roots may remain vital. If a sucker shoots in, we can cultivate it into a new plant. The prospect, of course, for tomatillos is less good. But I’m not prepared to give up yet. The possibility of new growth might yet eclipse the discouraging dieback we’re now witnessing. After all, I’m not aware of anyone who has ever died of optimism!
A major upgrade to the Emmet Carter website incorporating recent green design projects prominently features Rosslyn. I’ll excerpt a few descriptions and some of photographer Nancie Battaglia’s interior images in the post below.
Welcome to Rosslyn
Rosslyn is a stately Federal home on the shore of Lake Champlain in Essex, NY. This circa 1823 property, includes a turn-of-the-century Eastlake inspired boat house, an expansive carriage house, an ice houe, and thirty acres of sprawling Adirondack gardens, orchards, meadows, forests and cross country ski trails. (Emmet Carter)
Living Room
Rosslyn Living Room (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
The detailed trim work and built-ins throughout the room are all new, customized to match existing Federal wood patterns in the home, and comprised of FSC woods and with no toxic glues. Green design details throughout including: rugs are hand made wool from Tibet, the floors are new FSC beech wood, the couches are custom and entirely organic, the white upholstered chairs are sustainable from Lee, and the French chairs are antique and re-upholstered with natural linen and a cotton jute batting. The coffee table was handmade of walnut by the owner’s brother. All the fabrics in the room are natural and organic and all the wood and paint finishes are natural and non-toxic. Two original fireplaces transformed into gas stoves heat the room on demand for company and in-floor hydronic radiant heat stands by for additional warmth though even in frigid winters has never turned on because of the efficient and warm rooms that surround on all sides.
Rosslyn Living Room (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
The west wall of the living room and the Xian Warrior replica from China look onto the screened porch addition. The paneling is new and inspired from the house’s existing trimwork and other historic Federal precedent. The windows and french doors are new, efficient, double glazed from Marvin. The sconces are antique from the Federal period, and the side chairs are antique french (from a Parisian flea market), re-upholstered in a french inspired cotton toile fabric. The floors are FSC beech with a non-toxic sealer. (Emmet Carter)
Dining Room
Rosslyn Dining Room (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
Rosslyn’s dining room served as the previous owner’s wood working shop in the decades prior to our rehabilitation, but enough details remained (or were reconstructed from drawings and photographs) to return this elegant space to its former glory.
The custom built-in storage piece by a local craftsman was the perfect solution for a small space and a great need for barware storage beside the bar and dining room. It mimics the shape and detailing of the window opposite it, as does the new trim around the new door to the dining room. The lovely painting completmenting the area is by local artist Liz Wilson. The floor is new, local FSC cherry wood with a non-toxic finish. All the paints are non-toxic, no VOC. (Emmet Carter)
Parlor
Rosslyn Parlor (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
The fireplace is original and the mantel was a reproduction of the original trimwork from 1823, finished with no-VOC paint. The painting above the fireplace is by local Adirondack artist, Paul Rossi. The curtains are inspired by Federal patterns, and comprised of an embroidered silk from Kravet and tassle trim by Samuel and Sons, and are doubly interlined with natural cotton for thermal barrier from lakefront wind. The chair is antique French from a Parisian flea market, upholstered in a green silk velvet. The corner piece of salvaged wood was handcrafted in the Adirondacks by the owner’s brother. It opens to reveal a mini bar, glassware and bottled spirits. (Emmet Carter)
Bar
Rosslyn’s bar and stairway to game room and wine cellar. (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
This eight foot wide new addition, in the footprint of an historic porch, now mirrors the existing wing on the other side of the house to add symetry to the Federal house. Additionally, it offers space for a bar, half bath, mudroom and staircase to the finished basement. Green design features include the double paned Marvin windows which offer nice views of the lake and south yard, allow large amounts of sunlight to warm the house in winter, and large breezes to enter in the summer. The new addition also insulates the large, historic living room. The honed marble floors conceal efficient radiant heat, and the customized bar cabinet is recessed into the area where an exterior window once stood. Recycled PaperStone tops the bar area and half bath vanity down the hall. (Emmet Carter)
Breakfast Room
Rosslyn Breakfast Room (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
This is our favorite place for meals during the day, with a view of the north lawn, stone walls, birdfeeder and lake. The table is antique, probably from a farm, complete with multiple knife indentations, the placemats are handmade from sea grass, the irregular ceramic dinnerwear is from Viva Terra and the glass candle holders that are continually used are made by the nearby and talented Vermont company, Simon Pierce.
Four framed art pieces depict the four seasons of China, and the Marvin double paned windows depict our four seasons of the Adirondacks. The seat cushions were custom made of organic cotton, the background bench was hand carved in the Adirondacks by the owner’s brother and organic fruit and drink complete the natural setting. (Emmet Carter)
Kitchen
Though the architect insisted that the existing kitchen be bumped out for a better lake view, and alternatively suggested putting it in the historic living room for an open kitchen, family space, we reminded him that we would not be disturbing the historic footprint of the Federal home and that our “family” consisted of the two of us and a dog. Therefore, though he thought the space entirely too small for a kitchen, we used it as such, as it had been for many years, and it is the perfect size for two people who do a great deal of cooking and entertaining.
Rosslyn Kitchen (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
Our eight year old nephew chose the color, which reminded him of green apples and grapes. It worked, and around the green walls we added custom wheat board non-toxic cabinetry and trim with Federal details, and granite from India (Okay, the only green design aspect of these countertops is the color, considering the fossil fuels that it took to haul the stone here, but the surface is very practical, beautiful and resembles marble more than granite, and we’re big fans of India having recently visited there). The floor is new FSC beech wood, the fabric all linen from Schumacher and Zoffany, and the stove is a white Viking. We achieved the lake view after all by putting a second sink in the island which faces onto the adjoining rooms’s lakefront windows. (Emmet Carter)
Master Bedroom
Rosslyn Master Bedroom, East Elevation (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
Rosslyn’s master bedroom spent several decades as a demo’ed-to-the-studs, leaky, uninsulated storage space for construction materials, firewood, tools, and miscellaneous household odds and ends. I’ll add a post eventually that chronicles the full evolution of our bedroom, from dismal dump into our favorite room in the house. With windows on three sides, matched fireplaces, elegant but functional built-ins, a private balcony and a magnificent morning and afternoon view this space has become an oasis of calm and privacy.
Rosslyn Master Bedroom, West Elevation (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
And that sofa at the end of the bed? A cozy seat with a view, yes, but first and foremost it serves as throne for King Griffin, our Labrador Retriever. Although, as you can see in the photo above, why occupy the throne when the bed’s even softer and more spacious?!?!
The master bathroom is an indulgence. All of the bathrooms were well finished, but for our own private space we wanted to capture some of our favorite elements – voluminous, marble mosaic tiled shower, handsome soaking tub, paired sinks, radiant heat and towel bar, and a separate commode room – into a comfortable and minimalist bathroom. We also designed a custom cabinet that now stands between the two windows to store toiletries and balance the white massing. All told, we feel super pampered every time we brush our teeth or wash up.
Guest Bedroom
Rosslyn Guest Bedroom (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
This room features all natural and organic fabrics, an antique Italian chair and English dresser, paired with a locally made Vermont bed and side tables (with no toxic finishes). The high bed allows guests to look out of the large windows to the enchanting Lake Champlain and Vermont Green mountains. Guests can adjust the window treatments to allow the flood of light at dawn into the room fully with the windows exposed, or to allow a filtered light with sheer linen roman shades, or to witness it at a later hour by closing the doubly insulated full length curtains. In the winter the insulated panels block any drafts from the lake. The matching bedside lamps are repurposed vases brought back by hand from China and inspired the room’s color scheme and the silk rug and curtains. (Emmet Carter)
Study Bathroom
Rosslyn: Study Bathroom (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
This bathroom arrived as an afterthought, and was carved out of the room that housed the master bath. Though its adjoining room is a study, it might easily be used as a bedroom by the current or future owners, so it seemed prudent to add an adjoning bathroom for convenience and resale value. At the top of the stairs it also works well as an additional bathroom for overnight guests, dinner guests or party guests. The rich brown limestone and white ceramic subway tiles add contrast, warmth and pep to a small space, and the gentleman who occupies the office next door appreciates the definitively masculine room complete with some of his favorite artwork and reading materials. (Emmet Carter)
We removed the dropped ceiling in the attic guest bedroom, trimmed out the beams and added built-ins (with FSC wood and no toxic glues) for maximum storage and efficiency.
Green design elements include the solid wood bed and tables are were custom made nearby in Vermont with a non-toxic natural oil finish while the chair is a re-upholstered antique, and the decorative dresser was made in India.
All paints and finishes are non-toxic and VOC free, all the fabrics are from natural fibers and the wool rug is completely non-toxic as well.
Because the stairway to the attic is very narrow, a normal king mattress would not fit, so we purchased an organic natural rubber king that comes in pieces, enabling easy transport up to the room.
This quiet bedroom, surrounded by in-wall sugar beet foam insulation and the inviting bed, wrapped in soft organic fabrics ensure that guests never want to leave. (Emmet Carter)
The attic guest bathroom is popular with guests. The inspiration, from the owner’s love of the Caribbean and the Lake Champlain waters that lie beyond its walls, led to a waterlike color scheme with recycled glass tiles and nautical fixtures. The deep tub, hand friendly fixtures and large tiled surrounding allow easy bathing for visiting children and luxurious soaks for visiting adults (the floor features a suite of kid and adult guest rooms). The large surrounding also distributed the weight of the tub over a larger area in the third floor of an old home. The double sink vanity features a clean white marble. A seperate third sink and toilet are down the hall allowing multiple guests access to sinks at the same time. Everyone’s favorite feature is the recycled floor tiles, which, with rounded edges feel delightful under bare feet. (Emmet Carter)
What Did I Miss?
There are other spaces (like a small gym, a pantry/laundry and a “bunk room” for visiting children) that aren’t included in this post. I’ll include a few additional interior photographs from this series below, and one of these days I’ll also add a post with all of Nancie Battaglia’s exterior photographs of the house plus her images of the outbuildings. But for now, I’ve already maxed out the page load time, right? Onward!
Rosslyn Screen Porch (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
Rosslyn Stairway to Wine Cellar and Game Room (Credit: Nancie Battaglia)
I’ve started ordering seeds for my vegetable garden this summer, and Cuore di Bue Tomato (aka Coeur de Boeuf or Oxheart) is new to me. I tasted these tomatoes grown in a friend’s garden and decided to add Cuore di Bue to my “Must Plant” list.
“This curious and striking tomato is guaranteed to turn heads as well as satisfy appetites. Its name is simply Italian for oxheart, although this selection (Riviera) is an exotic twist on the oxheart tomato type. These big tomatoes have a bottom-heavy shape reminiscent of a pouch with a gathered top. They measure 3 1/2 inches wide and 4 inches long and weigh in just under 1/2 pound each. Cuore di Bue is one of the tastiest saucing types with dense flesh and lustrous, orangey-red skin.”
Can’t wait to plant, harvest and eat, eat, eat these Cuore di Bue tomatoes!
Some days it’s enough to wake up and smell the young herbs with July’s morning sun on the back of my neck. I make a cup of tea and head outside with Griffin. I wander barefoot into the herb garden while he takes care of his morning constitutional. As the plants warm up they release their perfume, some more than others. Dill. Lemon balm. Rosemary. Thyme. Lavender. Sage. Sometimes mint. Other herbs invite a gentle rub between thumb and index finger, imparting their tempting aroma throughout the morning whenever my hands pass near my nose. Basil. Parsley. Cilantro. Chives.
When you don’t harvest your artichokes in time they bloom. And then they look like sea anemones!
On the one hand, it’s a pity. One fewer chokes to steam and dab in mayonnaise or butter or… hollandaise sauce. Yum.
On the other hand, these giant thistle blossoms are stunning! The size of softball, and violet purple the same shade as those sickening candy-shelled, marshmallow filled Easter candies from my childhood. They honestly look like sea anemones. Beautiful. Lethal.
This year we had sooo many artichokes that allowing a few to blossom wasn’t such a sacrifice. In fact, now that the frosts have dried and desiccated the last couple of dozen chokes, I think it’s fair to venture an estimate of how many Imperial Start Artichokes we produced this summer.
We planted fifteen plants, and all survived. Until today I’d claimed that fourteen out of fifteen had produced chokes. Only one plant “aborted” as gardening books sometimes explain an artichoke that fails to produce an edible choke.
But today, with all of the plants beginning to expire I discovered that the one plant which had remained a bit dwarflike, failing to produce any artichokes was the most vital of them all. Short but lush with green foliage. And in the very center, a lime green artichoke!
So even our one “dud” had come through. Fifteen out of fifteen. Not bad.
Artichokes. (Photo: Wikipedia)
The other fourteen plants produced, on average, 12-15 artichokes. Nobody believes me until they visit our vegetable garden and witness it for themselves. We’ve been harvesting for more than three months. I don’t think we’ll manage to eat any more, but on Saturday I gave away the last half dozen edible artichokes. So we grew at least 180 artichokes on a mere fifteen plants. This is far and away the best season we’ve ever had. Most of the credit goes to nature, good luck and attentive assistance from a couple of loyal watering helpers. But the single most notable difference between this summer and the preceding three years that we’ve experimented with Imperial Star Artichokes is that we planted them in mounds to ensure that the roots wouldn’t rot if we received excessive rain. That seems to help. We’ll repeat next year.
And now, as we put this summer’s garden to rest for the winter, I’m tempted to try and overwinter a few of the artichokes. Last year’s attempt flopped, but I’m curious to see if it isn’t possible to keep a few plants alive to produce again next year. Any advice?
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Some discouraging grafting news this morning: all three apple trees that I grafted with my father a little less than a month ago appear to be rejecting the grafts. No, that’s a bit presumptuous. The trees probably aren’t responsible for the failed grafts, I am.
I found no indication that any of our grafts have taken. Most of the grafted scions/buds look desiccated. Not a single hint of life…
I’ll check again in another week or two. Until then I’ll cultivate a positive mindset since optimism can’t hurt.
Here are a few more photos from today’s inspection.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
