Rosslyn Redux

Tag: Rosslyn Gardens

  • Rosslyn Gardens: Mid-July Veggies

    Rosslyn Gardens: Mid-July Veggies

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mQqE7yNGkA&w=600&rel=0]

    After the rainiest spring/summer in years, the summer of 2012 appears to be one of the driest, and Rosslyn gardens have mostly profited. Time for an update on our mid-July veggies, plus an important question about squash blossoms at the end.

    Lake Champlain water levels are plummeting (waterfront/dock/boating update soon) and lawns are either crispy, crunchy or perpetually showered by sprinklers. With the exception of new grass we’re starting as part of ongoing repairs to the damaged waterfront, we’re trying to minimize our environmental impact by letting the lawns dry up but drip, drip, dripping the vegetables, herbs and orchard.

    Eggplant and Blossom, Rosslyn Gardens
    Eggplant and Blossom, Rosslyn Gardens

    It’s a curious twist of fate that we were just beginning to repair our waterfront from flood damage at this point last year, and this year we’re experiencing a sustained drought. But we’re taking advantage of the heat for lots of Lake Champlain watersports and Adirondack Coast bike rides. Life is good!

    What about that mid-July veggies update I promised?

    So far, the drought winners in the vegetable garden appear to be the zuchini and yellow squash (Are they are channeling their “inner tropics”?!?!), Imperial Star Artichokes, eggplant, peppers and tomatoes. Although I keep expecting the watermelons and cantaloupes to explode, they’ve been sluggish. Bizarre. Many years our seasons are too short for them, and yet when we blast them with dry heat day after day, they get logy. Why?

    The leeks are also struggling. I suspect they need even more water than they are getting… Will try to keep them wetter this week. The pumpkins and cucumbers are also way behind where they’d normally be at this point in the summer. I’d hoped to trellis the cukes this year. Never done that before, but intrigued by the smaller plot and self-shade possibilities as well as the opportunity to keep the cucumbers up off the earth so they’ll be less vulnerable to pests. Unfortunately the plants are still so small I haven’t been able to train any of them up onto the cedar trellises yet. Soon, I hope!

    Zuchini Squash Blossom, Rosslyn Gardens
    Zuchini Squash Blossom, Rosslyn Gardens

    The good news is that we’ve been devouring radishes (see French Breakfast Radish) and greens for over a month. Already finished with the first radish and lettuce patches and making good headway through the second patches. Will plant more lettuce this week along with beans and another squash crop. No more radishes. I think I’ve already hit my limit.

    Why so much squash? Yes, we too get sick of squash, but each year I plan to harvest and prepare squash blossoms. But so far it’s never happened. This year I’ve vowed to learn several good ways to prepare squash blossoms. I have some interesting recipes, but would love to hear your favorite way to prepare squash blossoms. And I need to figure out the best way to clean the squash blossoms before cooking. Seems that ants in particular love to get inside. How do you prepare your squash blossoms?

    Thanks to Sacha Marcucci for her tasty sounding recommendation:

  • Catherine Seidenberg: Artist

    Rosslyn by Catherine Seidenberg
    Rosslyn by Catherine Seidenberg

    I wrap my digital arms around friend, neighbor, artist, and gardener extraordinaire Catherine Seidenberg for this memorable birthday gift. Thank you!

    Catherine’s whimsical black and white watercolor of Rosslyn’s front facade offers a chance to reflect on the past decade Susan and I have spent reinvigorating this quirky property and an invitation to daydream about its future. The matched tree hydrangeas are a nod to a pair of similar (though far older varieties) hydrangeas that flaked the entrance columns before we excavated the front of the house. The older plants were transplanted with an excavator and now thrive astride a gate in the garden behind the carriage barn. The view to the right of the house, beyond the stone wall, reminds me of photographs of Rosslyn in the 1800s when the rolling hills beyond the carriage barn and ice house were far more open than today, a sea of apple orchards and green pastures dotted with grazing sheep.

    [Sometimes a post is born, neglected, orphaned, left unpublished in blog purgatory. Sadly this is one such case, despite the fact that I’ve enjoyed this painting daily from its perch above the fireplace in my study. The following update reminded me that Catherine’s painting was never properly celebrated, so I conjoin the two newsworthy items here to showcase the multidisciplinary creativity of artist Catherine Seidenberg.]

    Craigardan Artist-in-Residence, Catherine Seidenberg

    After two years assisting with Rosslyn’s vegetable and flower gardens Catherine moved on to new challenges. She notified us this past spring that she was returning to ceramics, and would be spending much of this year in Keene, NY as the Craigardan artist-in-residence.

    Craigardan Harvest Plate Resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Source: craigardan.org)
    Craigardan Harvest Plate Resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Source: craigardan.org)

    HARVEST PLATE RESIDENCY For ceramic artists who wish to participate in Craigardan’s delicious celebration of the farm, the food, and the plate.  9-month Winter residency. The 2017 Harvest Plate Resident: Catherine Seidenberg (Source: Craigardan)

    Craigardan Harvest Plate Resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Source: craigardan.org)
    Craigardan Harvest Plate Resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Source: craigardan.org)

    If you’re in the Adirondacks (or near enough to swing through Keene, NY) I encourage you to meet Catherine in mid-September.

    Slide Talk: a conversation with harvest plate resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Friday, September 15, 2017, 5:30 PM to 6:30 PM) Meet artist-in-residence Catherine Seidenberg, view her ceramic work and learn about her beautiful processes.  Catherine is our summer Harvest Plate Resident, crafting all of the tableware for the fall benefit event, Dinner in the Field. (Source: Craigardan)

    Susan and I are looking forward to the fall benefit!

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  • Day Lily Daze

    Day Lily Daze

    An old foundation filled to brimming with day lily blossoms at Rosslyn.
    An old foundation filled to brimming with day lily blossoms at Rosslyn.

    Lest the glories of midsummer be eclipsed by boat lift blues and lemon generators, I’d like to dazzle you with blossoms. I’m hoping to follow up this day lily daze with another shortly, the next leaning more toward whites and pinks and purples. But today we start with more familiar hues and patterns.

    This summer has offered a king’s bounty in colorful flowers. Must be something about all that rain in May and June, and all of that humid heat in July. Lush foliage, quasi tropical growth and vibrant blooms. Many a day lily in our beds have rocketed as tall as I am! I’ve never witnessed a 6’2″ day lily before.

    Day Lily Exotica vs. Nostalgia

    I can’t resist the ever-more exotic color combinations available for hybrid lilies, but the oranges and reds and browns and yellows still win for me. Earthy. Rustic. And imbued with nostalgia for youth and meadows wandered. Hiking in the Adirondacks this time of year “wild” day lilies are reliable evidence that a now wooded in depression in the forest once once a homestead. A bridge across time. A gardener’s best friend. Mouse over (or click on) any of the day lily photographs below to read the caption. Enjoy…

    Day Lily Posts Across the Interwebs

    Turns out I’m not alone in my praise for the day lily. Especially at this peak of summer moment. Here are a few others’ looks at nature’s fireworks:

  • Day Lilies & Delays

    Another installment of Rosslyn day lilies, these beauties leaning toward the exotic a bit more than yesterday’s “tiger lilies”. I had hoped to photograph several other dramatic varieties as well, but the recent heat and dry weather have taken their toll, and the blooms have passed their prime. No matter. Others will soon bloom!

    I will soon share a gallery of images from the carriage barn roof repairs. We initiated this project 1-2 years ago, but a parade of setbacks (including the need to first undertake structural repairs and stabilization) delayed replacement of the failing asphalt shingles with a standing seam steel roof. Soon – super soon, as my visiting nieces would say – I hope to announce that both the ice house and carriage barn have matching standing seam roofs. The work was supposed to be completed today, after an impressive 4-day (two back-to-back weekends) project.

    Following in the wake of so many endless, deadline-busting Rosslyn rehabilitation projects, it has been refreshing to witness such an efficient turn-around. I’ll save the detailed chronicle for another post (once the new roof is 100% complete), but for now I hail the hard working crew who endured blazing heat and even some rain to see this project through on schedule. Almost…

    As they wrapped up today, they discovered that they were one section short. After an enormous roof, the two massive spools of steel that fed into the “bending machine” ran out. The final 18″ or so, on the northeast end of the carriage barn remains exposed this evening. I’m confident that the missing material will arrive soon and the roof will be done.

    But until then, I salve any frustrations I may feel over the delay with the spectacular gardens, ablaze with drama and visual song. Thank you, day lilies!

  • Artichokes

    William Morris & Co., Wallpaper Sample Book 1, Artichoke, pattern #359, ca. 1915 (Source: theparisreview.org)
    William Morris & Co., Wallpaper Sample Book 1, Artichoke, pattern #359, ca. 1915 (Source: The Paris Review)

    I love artichokes. Growing artichokes, eating artichokes, enjoying the magnificent bloom (like a purple sea anemone) when I fail to harvest artichokes in time,… I hold artichokes in extremely high regard. But I must admit that I’ve never, ever conceived of artichokes as sexy.

    And then I read Nin Andrews’ poem, “The Artichoke“.

    She starts in familiar if cleverly conveyed territory.

    The first time I saw it, I thought what an ugly specimen. It looked like Grandma’s bathing cap, grown green and small after all these years. (Source: “The Artichoke” by Nin Andrews, The Paris Review)

    But then she chronicles a veritable love (lust?) affair with the spiny vegetable.

    I sliced it open and tasted the pale flesh. And gradually she offered herself up leaf by leaf… and she was irresistible… dipped in lemony butter, scraped carefully with teeth and sucked, the pale cream of flesh, the tender flower, her skirt held up like a cup, each sip bringing me closer to the moon, the vegetable pearl of her insides where the heart fans out fibrous hairs and waits a last mouthful on her green world. (Source: “The Artichoke” by Nin Andrews, The Paris Review)

    Wow! It’s fair to say that my perception of artichokes has evolved. Dramatically. And though we’re only halfway through November, my mind is already dreaming of planting more Imperial Start Artichokes next spring…

    [FYI, I excerpted some of the more salacious poetry from Nin Andrews’ poem, “The Artichoke”, but I’d strongly, strongly encourage you to read the whole poem. It’s short. And it’s thoroughly enjoyable. An artichoke will never be the same for you!]