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Back for another nival homecoming. Fluttering flurries obscuring sunset, muting day to night, ground mounding, rounding with fresh fallen snow. The sound of no sound, snowflakes silencing, softening contours, and settling scores. Slumber’s siren song swaddled in silver, swirling and whirling, mesmerizing me, mesmerizing us until tomorrow.
Another Nival Homecoming (Photo: Geo Davis)
Nival?!?!
There aren’t too many opportunities to nudge “nival” into conversation even in this northern wonderland. But as a language romantic often employing Spanish for my day-to-day communication, the word “nieve” kept burbling to the surface. In English, naval is about as close as we get, so, it was simply irresistible. Or perhaps the snowy sirens are to blame.
That said, it’s worth noting that naval is more metaphorically than literally appropriate in this context. Despite the fact that midwinter — and, yes, late February is still midwinter along the Adirondack Coast — may suggest perpetual snow and ice, spring is only a month (or two) away. Snow and ice will yield, grass will green, snowdrops and hyacinth and daffodils and jonquils (Narcissus jonquilla) will once again awaken springtime from her beauty sleep…
More. Snow. Ahead… (Source: Apple Weather)
And better yet, the snow continues to fall. Certainly cross-country skiing will be woven into tomorrow’s itinerary between icehouse rehab meetings and hands-on problem solving, carpentry, etc. Perhaps even some sunshine to enjoy the swoosh and glide of a mud-day skiing adventure.
I started an update a couple of weeks back that never made it out of the nest. An unfledged fledgling… At issue? Heat and humidity stabilization in the icehouse to properly acclimatize lumber pre-installation.
Temporary LP Monitor Heater (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Given a few savvy questions about how we planned to install finish woodwork (flooring, paneling, etc.) in the icehouse — which until recently still had no heat and still had leaky apertures where windows and doors won’t be installed until May — I had initiated a quick explanation for how we planned to temporarily stabilize the temperature and humidity to ensure predictable, effective lumber acclimatization. Initiated but then neglected. The questions have continued, mostly from carpenters a others savvy to the expansion and contraction of wood. So I’m returning to the topic, better late than never?!?! The silver lining? Our plan for stabilizing the heat and humidity was implemented a couple of weeks ago. And it’s working well.
Stabilizing Heat & Humidity in Icehouse (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
After my last visit Eric and Peter coordinated, source, installed efficient LP monitor heater that is thermostatically controlled and piped temporarily to an external propane tank. This setup, in conjunction with well insulated apertures, has effectively enabled us to stabilize the interior of workspace for the coming months, creating a heat and humidity controlled “envelope” where temperature and moisture are stable so that finish lumber can be properly acclimatized.
Another positive twist of fate: Eric was able to source an oversized monitor heater (more than satisfying our BTU needs for the small space) that had been previously but lightly used at a discounted price. Win, win. Hurrah, Eric!
Stabilizing Heat & Humidity in Icehouse (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
The photo at the top of this post is the monitor heater, and the next two photographs show examples of interior vapor/air barriers (plus rock wool insulation) that were added to the apertures. Window and door framing was undertaken prior to installation of the ZIP System paneling, so there was already a decent barrier in place for these apertures. But we needed to further improve thermal and moisture barriers, especially on the north and west elevations where ample fenestration made it more challenging to control the interior work environment 24×7.
With the monitor installed and working well and the interior/exterior barrier effectively controlled, there remained one additional temporary-but-important complement: a secure, functional access for day-to-day work. Ad-hoc closure systems had been adequate early on, but it was time to install a convenient but lockable, well insulated, pre-hung exterior door.
Temporary Exterior Door (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Kudos to Peter and Eric buttoning up the space to ensure forward progress over the last couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to witnessing firsthand tomorrow afternoon the hardwood flooring (beech) in the loft, for example, an accomplishment that was possible only once the heat and humidity stabilization was complete and the materials had acclimated on site for a couple of weeks.
I’m grateful when progress is captured and conveyed by members of the team. Pam is especially mindful to keep me abreast of daily changes. Today several helpful snapshots popped up from a Peter. Yesterday several helpful visual updates arrived from Tony Foster including several color captures of clapboard siding.
Hidden in one, an accidental portrait of the photographer. Transformed into black and white, adjusted for contrast, and the image above emerges from the clapboard. As well, a haiku, like the blink of an eye…
Parenthetical Portrait Documenting days fortuitous photograph documenting self
There are so many personal moments, so many parenthetical portraits inadvertently woven into Rosslyn’s narrative. Thank you, Tony, for another.
Icehouse Interior Paint: Pale Oak & White Dove (Source: Geo Davis)
We’ve decided on interior paint colors for the icehouse.
Icehouse Interior Paint: Pale Oak & White Dove (Source: Geo Davis)
Benjamin Moore Pale Oak (OC-20) for the tongue and groove “nickel gap” wall paneling, and Benjamin MooreWhite Dove (OC-17) for the ceilings, trim, columns, windows, doors, etc.
Icehouse Interior Paint: Pale Oak & White Dove (Source: Geo Davis)
Walls and ceiling will be painted in eggshell, and trim will be satin.
Icehouse Interior Paint: Pale Oak & White Dove (Source: Geo Davis)
It’s an a winning combination that will add a hint of warmth and a subtle contrast.
Icehouse Interior Paint: Pale Oak & White Dove (Source: Geo Davis)
Notice something peculiar about our clapboard siding installation?
Siding Before Windows? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Typically windows (and doors) would be installed before siding. And before trim. It works better. For lots of reasons.
Siding Before Windows? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
But… We’ve added an extra challenge. Not by choice. Our timeline on this project, reasonable last summer, became more compressed as summer slid into autumn and then yawned into winter. A lot, a LOT has happened over the past 4-5 months. But the finish line is swiftly approaching. Think three and a half months.
Siding Before Windows? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
We had hoped to initiate the custom window and door order last August. And then last September. But it wasn’t until October that the contract was inked and the deposit was paid. In 20+ years of renovating, I’ve never witnessed a blame game that successfully accelerated a timeline, so I’ll sidestep reasons for a late start (and the many months long delivery schedule) to explain that windows won’t arrive until early May. Doors will start to trickle in next week, but windows will arrive in the final weeks of this project! How exactly that’s going to work out remains an anxiety inducing mystery. But at least you can understand the upside down sequence. Siding now. Windows later. Trim at the 11th hour!
Siding Before Windows? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Wish. Us. Luck. Or better yet, come help us in May!
“The way a team plays as a whole determines its success. You may have the greatest bunch of individual stars in the world, but if they don’t play together, the club won’t be worth a dime.” – Babe Ruth
Collaborate. Incubate. Collaboration. Incubation. Potent verbs. Evocative nouns. Language compromised by overuse. Overuse in terms of frequency, but also in terms of overgeneralized application. Genericized. Peppered across erroneous contexts. Trotted out like currency, displayed like ruffed grouse plumage to impress or intimidate. Potency diminished. Evocation enfeebled.
It’s funny how words (especially trendy buzzwords) and the notions they conjure in our minds give us the sometimes overconfident conviction that we understand one another. That we are communicating apples-to-apples and oranges-to-oranges. But maybe we aren’t. Or, at least, maybe sometimes we aren’t. We bob and nod and smile and volley words and ideas back and forth, feeling smug and productive and accomplished. And yet, a cartoonist might draw little thought bubbles above our heads betraying our inner monologues and assumptions and questions, thought bubbles that show a small and sometimes a huge discrepancy between the world collage we’re creating and any semblance of comprehension.
Pamuela Murphy, July 2022: Kudos to the queen of collaborative incubation! (Photo: Geo Davis)
Collaborative Incubation
Collaboration in’t the plug-and-play gizmo we make it out to be. It’s hard work. Immensely rewarding, but challenging. Collaboration demands much of the contributors. Skills. Expertise. Commitment. Followthrough. Respect for one another. Humility. Ambition. Confidence in the potential for a sum greater than its constituent parts… And it requires a willingness to bridle ego in service to the team, a commitment to second personal pride to the potential for collective accomplishment.
Like I said, it’s hard work. But when everything falls into place, the rewards transcend productivity and accomplishment, which are ample and impressive. The ultimate reward is in the doing, in the collaboration itself. Teamwork, well executed, is immensely satisfying in and of itself.
So how do we incubate collaboration?
Bring together good people. Good skills. Good character. Good minds. Good work ethics. But ingredients don’t make a cake no matter how fine the quality, no matter how long you wait. They’re still just ingredients.
A chef combines the ingredients and sets the chemistry in motion. A catalyst as invested and passionate and humble and ambitious as everyone else on the team. A leader. A captain. A shepherd. Successful collaboration usually originates in successful incubation. Let’s call this collaborative incubation. And then let’s invert the words for a moment… You with me?
Incubating Collaboration
If collaboration profits from (and often requires) incubation — and I’m convinced it does — then it’s worth reflecting on the relationship between collaboration and incubation.
Friday isn’t really TGIF for Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab team. For some members of the crew it’s starting time. As their workweek schedule reaches the finish line, their “side hustle” schedule reaches the starting line. So today, as we wind down another Monday-through-Friday and transition into another productive weekend, I’m feeling profoundly grateful to the many men and women who choose to make our work their work. Thank you for transforming our hopes and schemes into brick and mortar reality. With multiple concurrent projects underway at Rosslyn (icehouse, boathouse gangway, leftover deck rebuild projects, and inside the home), and some but not much overlap between them, there are too many individuals deserving thanks to list here. But there in one individual who keeps all of the moving parts in motion. One humble hustler guarantees that everything is progressing, collision-free. One reliable leader supports the entire team while ensuring quality control, upbeat and respectful morale, impeccable communication with Susan and me. I refer to this point person as the “air traffic controller”, and not just for the myriad projects at Rosslyn. She concurrently manages ADK Oasis Highlawn and ADK Oasis Lakeside, as well as the Westport Yacht Club. And we’re only about half of the properties in her portfolio.
I’m referring to Pam Murphy. She’s the glue that holds it all together. She’s the hub at the center of the spinning wheel. She’s the wizard wrangling hundreds of collaborators and plans and materials and deadlines. She’s the friend and colleague incubating collaboration day after day after day. And Susan and I are among the grateful beneficiaries. For years now. No buzzwords needed. Just profound respect for her intelligence, her intuitive interpersonal dynamics, her methodical organization and communication, her curiosity and appetite for learning, her perennial wellspring of energy, her empathy for everyone on the team, her attention to detail, her fierce loyalty to us and to everyone else with whom she works, her morally unambiguous clarity and conviction, and the confidence she has placed in us over the years to reciprocate the trust, respect, support, and affection that she has always given to us.
When I talk about collaboration, collaborative incubation, and incubating collaboration, the thought bubble above my head is a cartoon of Pam accomplishing a dozen tasks at once while she smiles and all of the cartoon figures around her smile along with her!
“Find a group of people who challenge and inspire you, spend a lot of time with them, and it will change your life.” – Amy Poehler
Champlaining on a mirror morning (Photo: Geo Davis)
I like to joke around with our friends, Amy Guglielmo and Brian Giebel about “Champlaining” (aka “Lake Champlaining”) when we’re puttering about on our glorious front yard: Lake Champlain. A common refrain, “Stop Champlaining!” is actually a lighthearted reminder that even on the clunkiest of days, time spent plying (or playing i/on) the waters of America’s greatest lake is a revitalizing gift.
Swimming. Sailing. Speedboating. Windsurfing. Wakesurfing. Waterskiing. Bonfiring… (And even when we’re fortunate enough to have a winter freeze so that we can skate and cross-country ski on the lake!) Champlaining is a term of lighthearted gratitude for the immense good fortune that so many of us enjoy in, on, and near the greatest of American lakes,Lake Champlain.
Mucking through late midwinter strikes me as the optimal moment to share the distinct joy of champlaining with a quick photo essay.
No better place to start than one of my personal favorites, sailing.
End-of-day waterskiing, sailing, surfing offers a unique magic (but paying attention to boating regulations vis-à-vis sunset which I might have inadvertently let slip here…)
Champlaining with a Sundown Wakesurf, August 10, 2022 (Photo: Susan Bacot-Davis)
Celebrating a peak-of-summer day with a sensational sundown surf… in one of world’s the most spectacular spots… This is Champlaining! (Source: Sundown Surf)
Hammocking lakeside might very well be one of the best ways to wind down a week.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CjbaQb4Po9t/
Followed with a beach bonfire. NOW we’re starting to explore the range of possibilities…
Champlaining with a Lakeside Bonfire, September 27, 2014 (Photo: Geo Davis)
In-on Lake Champlain,
even the clunkiest of days,
revitalize bliss.
— Geo Davis
Lake Champlain Official
If my photo essay peppered with editorial asides isn’t exactly what you were hoping to find when the mysterious internauts delivered you here, then I’ll step aside and offer you a by-the-books springboard to more official data points (with a tiny tout for Champlain arts and culture.)
A freshwater lake located between New York State on the west, Vermont on the east, and Canada’s Quebec province on the north, Lake Champlain is approximately 120 miles (193 km) long, 12 miles (19 km) wide, and 400 feet (122 m) at its deepest trench. The sixth-largest lake in the United States by volume, Lake Champlain contains 71 islands. (Source: LCLT.org) Source waters include the Boquet, Ausable, and Saranac rivers in New York and the Richelieu, Missisquoi, and Lamoille rivers in Vermont. Contrary to a common misperception, the lake flows northward into the Richelieu River (and eventually into the St. Lawrence River.)
Inspiring artists, musicians, and vacationers for centuries, Lake Champlain is a creative and cultural epicenter for the Northeast. To get in the mood, how about a singalong of Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble’s “On Lake Champlain”? (Check out the lyrics and audio recording.)
Named for the French explorer, Samuel de Champlain, who was the first European to map the region in 1609, the waterway quickly became an important transportation and trade artery. The Battle of Valcour (October 11, 1776) during the American Revolutionary War and the Battle of Plattsburgh (September 6-11, 1814) during the War of 1812 wove the majestic lake into early American history. Today, Lake Champlain is a popular destination for vacationing, swimming, boating, fishing, and camping. (Source: Lake Champlain)
Enough with official. Back to anecdotal, whimsical, and romantic! I’ll wrap up with a couple of delightful vintage Lake Champlain postcards. Enjoy.
Yachting on Lake Champlain (Source: Vintage Postcard)
Sunset on Lake Champlain (Source: Vintage Postcard)
Daybreak: Lake Champlain sunrise through “wavy glass” in late August, summertime slipping through the hourglass. (Source: Geo Davis)
Since my earliest Rosslyn intrigue, wondering if the house and property might one day become a home for us, daybreak was my fixation. Perhaps it was just my lifelong affinity for early morning. As an early riser dawn has long been my favorite time of time, a world of possibility… Perhaps it was just curiosity what Rosslyn would feel like, look like, wandering room-to-room early in the morning. Although the front hallway was still in decidedly unfinished condition when we first visited, I imagined the walls painted a pale yellow, transporting the sunrise inside, warming the house with the brightening day.
Daybreak Discernment
This summer has been marked with singularly spectacular sunrises (and sunsets), and I’ve written much and often about these liminal states. This morning, however, catching sight of daybreak through wavy glass in the front parlor, I was struck concurrently with two thoughts.
The wave-rippled surface of Lake Champlain was refracting dawn’s beacon, distorting the beam of fiery orange sunlight into a row of burning “puddles” that wavy glass in the parlor windows was further altering into a dancing mirage. Searing reality transformed into a optical illusion. I was reminded that Rosslyn has often altered my way of seeing and experiencing.
These summer days are filtering faster and faster from anticipation to happening to memories. Just as the fleeting illusion of fiery puddles or bonfires or — pushing possibility to it’s breaking point — fiery cairns guided my eye to the rising sun, wobbling up out of Vermont’s Green Mountains like some hallucination, almost as quickly mellowing to a buttery yellow before vanishing altogether in the cloud bank above, just as quickly this summer is reaching its conclusion.
And these bittersweet realizations, as if coupling and procreating, gave birth to a daybreak haiku.
A window view early on a Sunday morning. A blazing daybreak. Wavy lake and wavy glass. Near, familiar silhouettes framing a veritable mirage. Dawn within. Dawn without.
Boathouse Bonfire, September 27, 2014 (Source: Geo Davis)
If September poems sound overly sentimental to you or if you’re inclined to a grittier observance of the almost-upon-us Autumn Equinox, I’ve got you covered. Soon. Stay tuned.
But if you’re comfortable lingering briefly — and these poems are, if nothing else, brief — in the seasonality and liminality of the present moment, then I’d like to offer you a few September poems. After all, sometimes the singing underneath doesn’t translate to images or longform exposition. So I’ve bundled a tidy bundle of verse celebrating my one of my four favorite seasons.
Susan in Carriage Barn, September 12, 2006 (Source: Geo Davis)
Haiku September Poems
Short and sweet, sometimes bittersweet, is the name of the game when trying to put your finger on something as poignant and humbling as the shift from summer to autumn (with the omnipresent reminder that autumn too will soon yield, and winter will shroud the colors and flavors and aromas away beneath a snowy blanket). But that can be an elusive errand.
There’s something ineffable about Septembering, but anyone who’s dwelled a spell in the North Country is familiar with this shift. (Source: Seasonality: Septembering)
Haiku’s economy offers a bold if foolhardy effort, so let’s start there.
•:•
Dusky zinnias,
harvest-ready to welcome
arriving houseguests.
— Geo Davis
•:•
Bountiful beans,
red-podded asparagus,
climbing the teepee.
— Geo Davis
•:•
Seasonal surreal:
autumnal art, alchemy,
tart transformation.
— Geo Davis
Sunset, September 6, 2015 (Source: Geo Davis)
Longer September Poem
I’m struck by the concurrently lavish spoils and humbling caution of September. In so many respects the bounty of an entire summer’s worth of gardening and orcharding comes due in September. Sure, we’ve been enjoying the gardens since May, but the this month full of contrasts is without doubt the most abundant harvest. And yet, even as we indulge to excess, the crisp nights and the sunlight’s increasingly anemic illumination remind us to prepare for winter.
When Septembering
honor abundance
as autumn will soon
yield to the drum roll
of hale and hoarfrost,
bitter wind, and snow.
— Geo Davis
This might be the first verse to a longer look at the point-counterpoint of this intoxicating yet sobering marvel of a month. It might also have reached its end. A little hibernation should help decide.
Cider Pressing, September 6, 2015 (Source: Geo Davis)
Sing-song Along
I’ve made no secret of the fact that this 2022 summer and autumn have been pivotal for Susan and for me. We’re surfing some seismic transformations in our lives, finally confronting inevitabilities and incongruities that have been evolving for a long time, and fortifying one another for significant choices and changes ahead. In all probability the liminal space we’re navigating underlies the vibrance and drama I’m noticing in everyday events. But I’m unable to disregard the rhymes, rituals, harmonies, and auspicious signs (cairns, buoys, vade mecums,…) as I immerse myself in the texture and artifacts of a decade and a half with Rosslyn, as Susan and I revise and remap and re-plot our next chapters.
So many friends and acquaintances have contributed to this new adventure we’re embarking on, often without even realizing it or intending to effect our trajectory. Influences have an uncanny habit of popping up at just the right time! And so I close this post with an invitation to you. We welcome you to join and participate in our quest. As fellow sojourners we’ll better bridge the valleys and better celebrate the lofty summits ahead. Grateful to be traveling together!
Let’s rewind back to my discovery of this early 20th century song.
Care to join me for a singalong? Today I’d like to share with you the sheet music cover image for the song, “On Lake Champlain” by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble.
[…]
So for now I’ll pause this post in the hope that the vintage color lithograph for Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble’s sheet music will miraculously move us closer to an audible version of “On Lake Champlain”. If fortune smiles upon us, I’ll update this post. (Source: “On Lake Champlain” Song by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble)
I have some good news for you. Today I’m ready to pass along the original sheet music, several early recordings (pops, scratches, and all), and a stripped down midi recording if you’d like to rig up your own karaoke.
Columbia Record’s “On Lake Champlain” by Sterling Trio (Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble)
Sterling Trio & Mills Brothers
Without further ado, I invite you to hear the song as it was originally recorded. Enjoy.
If you experiment with pitch and tempo, you might modernize this ditty by a few decades, possibly rendering it a little catchier in the process.
Silvertone’s “On Lake Champlain” by Sterling Trio (Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble)
MIDI Sans Vocals
The time distorted sound of an old 78 speed LP is evocative and slightly romantic, but what if you’re ready for a “On Lake Champlain” singalong? More good news! You can download Geoff Grainger‘s midi recording of “On Lake Champlain” (part of his online repository and resource called Ditty Box Enterprise) for hours of fireside enjoyment. Of course, you might need to play around with the raw file to make replay convenient. I just slurped it into Garage Band and then output it as an MP3. Good luck.
“On Lake Champlain” by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble (song sheet, p.3)
“On Lake Champlain” by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble (song sheet, p.4)
“On Lake Champlain” by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble (song sheet, p.5)
“On Lake Champlain” Sheet Music
Now if you’re feeling ready to invite the neighbors over and spark off the bonfire, I encourage you to first download the sheet music from Duke University’s David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library so that everyone can join in the revelry. After all what fun is an “On Lake Champlain” singalong if you’re solo-ing through two verses while everyone else roasts marshmallows?
And, once you’re good and comfortable with your new-old song, how about recording it and sending it my way?! Thanks in advance.
Sundown Surf, August 10, 2022 (Source: Susan Bacot-Davis)
Slightly less than two months ago, celebrating a peak-of-summer day with a sensational sundown surf. Actually, concluding a wake surf (closer to sunset than normal or advisable).
Sundown Surf Haiku
Wake lifting, cresting, board surging and legs pumping, surfing into dusk. — Geo Davis
Champlaining Relived
Today we start the first day of October. So much change from that photo, and in so little time. We are undeniably, falling, falling, falling into autumn. I try for a moment to relive the sublime moment after a sundown surf in one of world’s the most spectacular spots. Perfection then. Perfection now. This is Champlaining!
Essex, NY in 1876 (Source: OW Gray Atlas of Essex County)
Where in the world is Rosslyn? If you’re not too terribly averse to a verse, here’s an introduction writ small (wrapped up in a tidy micropoem.)
Up in the Adirondacks
at the foot of the foothills,
where Champlain's sweet waters
refresh, render respite,
and sooth worldweary souls,
a sanctuary sings
welcoming melodies.
(Source: Where's Rosslyn?)
Poetry not your preference? Pity! 😉 Let’s try this.
Beginning to zero in on where in the world Rosslyn is? If neither the poetics of place nor encyclopedic brevity are helping much, let’s try a map or two. Maybe I can narrow your focus a little further with this line drawing that I created with Katie Shepard for our community blog, Essex on Lake Champlain back in 2015. (If you click on the map it’ll open a window where you can download the unfuzzy PDF complete with a key explaining each of the numbers in the map.)
Essex Architecture Map, July 2015 (Source: Essex on Lake Champlain)
Enough with the old school black and white (and sepia with faint rose highlighting). It’s time for technicolor!
So, where in the world is Rosslyn? Train your eyes on the three docks/piers extending out into Lake Champlain. The middle one is the ferry dock. (See the ferry heading to Vermont?) The smallest of the three man made peninsula’s is Rosslyn’s dock house (aka “boathouse”). Armed with that little insight, perhaps you can find the same property on the two maps above? (Hint: the boathouse wasn’t yet constructed in 1876 when the map at the top of this post was made.)
Heck, it still enchants us despite constant maintenance and seasonal flood worries. And the boathouse hammock is a mini vacation!
Head inland from the boathouse and you’ll discover Rosslyn itself, tucked next to two massive trees, a ginkgo and what I believe is a silver maple (Acer saccharinum). In fact, I’m sitting in the top right room on the second floor right now. Perhaps if you swoop in a little lower you’ll catch me jotting this blog post.
A little further left of the house are the carriage barn (lower) and ice house (upper) which offer up all sorts of mysteries. But those for another day. Unless you remember three curious artifacts I shared with you a while ago… (Source: Essex Aerial View)
Hopefully this helped orient you. Yes, a Google map might be more precise and quicker, but sometimes Rosslyn Redux and the art of homing aren’t particularly precise or quick. Besides, a thin veil of privacy keeps the snoopers away. Or at least adds a little challenge to their quest. But if you’re looking for a little more clarity on where in the world Rosslyn is located, I suggest you check out this hopefully helpful hub: “Where’s Rosslyn?“