Rosslyn Redux

Tag: William Daniel Ross

  • December 2014

    Lake Champlain, December 2014
    Lake Champlain, December 2014

    In recent years December has given us our first real blast of winter. A premature blast usually because early December snows have usually melted by Christmas…

    December 2014 Raptors

    Early in December 2014 I walked Rosslyn’s woods and meadows to make sure our cross-country ski trails were clear of trees and brush. The good news was that with a little maintenance everything was ready for our first snowfall.

    [pullquote]Perhaps you can help identify the hawk and owl species?[/pullquote]

    The even better news was that I encountered two handsome raptors at close range. Near the beginning of my walk a hawk allowed me to approach and photograph him from directly beneath the limb where he sat. Later in the afternoon an owl was no more than fifteen feet from me when I spied him. He too sat patiently and allowed me to snap photos. Unfortunately the camera in my mobile phone offers only a hint of the grandeur of this birds of prey.

    Perhaps you can help identify the hawk and owl species?

    December 2014 Snow

    And then the snow arrived. On the 10th of December 2014 we had our first real taste of collecting snow (as opposed to flurries that melt once they land.)

    Another curious happening. The Essex-Charlotte ferry seemed to have stalled in front of Rosslyn boathouse. (Can you spot it in the photos?) It drifted for an eerily long time, so close to the boathouse that I grew concerned. At last it managed to rumble off to the Essex ferry dock.

    Once the snowflakes ceased to fall Rosslyn had been blanketed in over a foot of beautiful snow. Beautiful but super moist and heavy. Unfortunately what looks picturesque in the black and white photo below turned out to be bad news for many of our trees.

    Winter started out with a deep, heavy, wet snowfall in early December 2014.
    Winter started out with a deep, heavy, wet snowfall in early December 2014.

    The photographs below tell the less picturesque story of what happens when lots of heavy, wet snow collects. Pretty. But potentially devastating.

    But no sense closing on a down note. Instead I’ll wrap up with this wonderful snapshot of Griffin saying goodbye to his snowy home before setting off on a Christmas road trip. Griffin loves snow!

    Griffin's up early and ready for a road trip.
    Griffin’s up early and ready for a road trip.
  • Redacting Rosslyn Redux

    Redacting Rosslyn Redux

    Rosslyn Boathouse in Essex, New York, May 1, 2011
    Rosslyn Boathouse in Essex, New York, May 1, 2011

    What happens when a storyteller writes a book? When a talker becomes a typer? When the audience’s laughter, sighs, snoring, heckling and applause vanish? When margins and page count provide only the most porous parameters?

    I’ll tell you what. Story glut. Plot inflation. Unchecked character sprawl…

    What: Redacting Rosslyn Redux
When: 8:00pm, Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Where: The Depot Theatre, Westport, NY

    For the past year I’ve been writing and revising a memoir about the four years that Susan and I spent renovating the W.D. Ross property in Essex. I’ve discovered that building a book is a bit like rebuilding an old house. No matter how great the bones, how stunning the view, how well preserved the architecture and design, and no matter how clear and enticing the goal, you can’t do it by yourself.

    In the case of our home it took the world’s most intelligent, beautiful and stubborn wife plus a vast community of contractors, carpenters, advisors, family and friends to rebuild Rosslyn. In the case of my book it will take your laughter, your sighs, your heckling (and even your prodding and booing and advising) to build Rosslyn Redux.

    Please join me at 8:00pm on Wednesday, August 3 at The Depot Theatre in Westport for a solo performance of Redacting Rosslyn Redux, an evening of readings, storytelling and vignettes ranging from a wader-wearing Amazon named Rosslyn to a perennially pickled bathtub yachtsman. I’ll poke fun at the idiosyncrasies (and absurdities) of renovation, marriage and North Country life while plunging you into the creative process. Are you ready to help build a book?

    You are invited to a reception in the lobby following the performance. All participants will be entered into a drawing for Essex gift certificates and Rosslyn Redux swag. All proceeds from this performance will be donated to The Depot Theatre. Here’s how to get tickets:

    Depot Box Office:
Call: 518-962-4449
Monday, Thursday, and Friday from 10am-10pm
Saturday and Sunday from 12pm-10pm
Tuesday and Wednesday from 10am-5pm

Depot Online Ticket Sales:
http://depottheatre.org/tickets

    Thank you. I hope to see you!

  • Rosslyn’s American Mink

     

    I few evenings ago I remembered that I’d left my iPhone on the runabout, so I headed down to the waterfront before dinner to grab it.

    As I stepped out onto the dock, I noticed an energetic mink playing around on the rocks. I froze.

    Would he vanish if he saw me?

    He continued to explore the rock pile undisturbed. If only I had my phone I could take a photo or shoot a video. But it was in the boat.

    For several minutes I stood motionless, and then I started taking slow steps toward the boat whenever he turned away. Eventually I realized that he wasn’t concerned with me at all. I unsnapped the boat cover and fumbled around in the failing light for my camera. The mink continued to play.

    This is the video sequence I shot with most of the repetitive stuff edited out. Sorry it’s still a bit long, but couldn’t bring myself to erase his antics after he’d tolerated mine…

    American Mink

    From what I can ascertain, this was an American mink (Neovison vison), a semiaquatic carnivore which is inclined to dine on fish, frogs and crustaceans like crayfish. And, yes, it is the source of the fabled fur more valuable globally even than sable and silver fox.

    I’d first titled this post “Summer Evening Mink” because it conjured up all sorts of dramatic (if slightly misleading) images. It sounded like a scene from a Merchant Ivory film. Too much. Besides, I knew it would ruffle my bride’s animal-centric feathers.

    “Are you suggesting that someone should turn that beautiful wild creature into a collar?”

    “Nope. Just liked the sound and imagery…”

    “The imagery? Of slaughtering defenseless animals?”

    Rosslyn’s American Mink

    I know how this conversation goes. And besides, “Rosslyn’s American Mink” — although a bit presumptuous since this sleek fellow no more belongs to Rosslyn than Lake Champlain or that handsome moon does — gets right to the point of the matter. My bride likes that.

    And my bride does not like mink coats. Not American mink or sable or silver fox or any other fur. She’s a big advocate for the critters. No eating or wearing critters for her. For me? I’m a carnivore, a bit like the American mink, I suppose, though my tastes are perhaps a bit more diverse. Oh, and I wear fur. Not American mink fur, but my own fuzzy pelt. Fortunately there’s little demand globally for my fur.

    Update:

    Leanne Hobbs Bula contacted me via Facebook to share a pair of mink photos that she took near Isle la Motte, Vermont.

    Minks, by Leanne Hobbs Bula
    Minks, by Leanne Hobbs Bula

    “I also have an American mink at my home. She has 6 babies too! Scared the heck out of me the first time I saw her. She doesn’t like my dog… They are a bit far away because I ran away screaming bloody murder… we haven’t seen the babies in a few weeks, only the mom. We now have a pair of bald eagles and an eaglet? … We suspect the bald eagles may have snacked on the baby mink. Nature can be cruel but it certainly makes me less nervous when I am tanning myself lakeside!” ~ Leanne Hobbs Bula

    Great photos, Leanne! Thanks for passing them along. I wonder if Rosslyn’s American mink has babies hiding away somewhere. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, but judging from all of the healthy ducklings growing into ducks along our waterfront, I suspect that there may only be the one lonely American mink I spied.

  • Lake Champlain vs. Rosslyn Boathouse

    Rosslyn boathouse is flooded
    Rosslyn boathouse is flooded (6:00am April, 29, 2011)

    We knew it would happen sooner or later. But like so many inevitable but dreaded events, we’d wrapped ourselves in a warm comforter of denial. And four springs slipped quickly past since purchasing Rosslyn without the boathouse getting flooded. Sure, we’ve had plenty of high water, but the water’s never risen above the floorboards. In fact, the highest it had ever gotten was about 9-12″ below the floorboards!

    Not this year. Lake Champlain‘s water level has risen quickly in recent weeks due in part to seasonal spring melt after an extremely snowy winter and spring. But spring rains are the real culprit. Lots and lots and lots of rain. We’ve been watching day by day as the water crept up, reassuring ourselves that it must be cresting soon… Only it wasn’t. It’s still rising. About another 5″ inches since yesterday afternoon, bringing it to about one foot in the last 24 hours. That’s fast! But slow enough for us to clear out the items that don’t play well with water. Which put a dent in Doug’s carpentry work upstairs, finishing up the trim and oiling the fir. We also had to shut down all electric. Which makes for a dark and eerie lair in the evening. A bit like a flooded tunnel. Interesting photos though…

    Most of the drama surrounds the boathouse, especially since we’ve worked long and hard to restore it to health and happiness. But the waterfront is another big concern. Major erosion already, and that’s with relatively light wind and minimal wave action. Big wind and big waves could be catastrophic! Hoping against hope that the wind will remain calm and the waters will fall. Help me hope if you’ve got psychic horsepower to spare. Although we haven’t finished landscaping the entire waterfront, roughly a third (about 80′) looked great up until a few days ago. We’ve rebuilt the stone walls and planted a lawn on the terrace above the beach. The rear edge of the lawn, following the base of the next stone terrace had grown into a handsome daylily bed that stretched the full eighty feet. Spectacular in summer. Now virtually erased by drift wood grinding and churning in the waves. All hand planted. All pampered through the first season. All healthy and thriving earlier this week. All gone now. Memories. I can only hope that some of the bulbs are intact, floating around Lake Champlain, and that they will wash up on people’s beaches and surprise them this summer with heirloom blooms!

    In the time it took me to whip up this post, the USGS has changed the Lake Champlain water level from 102.54″ to 102.61″ which happened over an interval of about three hours. So, still not cresting. And the sky has gone from sunny and clear to dark and cloudy. Storm clouds threatening. Wind rising…

  • Sun Setting into the Adirondacks

    Sun Setting into the Adirondacks
    Sun Setting into the Adirondacks before Perseid showers

    Darkness is falling in the Adirondacks, and soon ­ with a little luck ­ I will witness the Perseid showers streaking the Champlain Valley dome. My bride shot this image on her mobile from our runabout in the middle of Lake Champlain on August 12, 2013 while waiting for the meteor shower. If you’re in the neighborhood, look up. And watch out for flaming pebbles!

     

  • Rainbow Ramble

    Boathouse, Ferry & Rainbow

    At the end of the rainbow… A ferry!

    That seems like the perfect, cheesoise title for this photo I just snapped standing in the road between our home and the boathouse. Looking east at Vermont’s Green Mountains, though you’ll have to take my word for it since the rain and fog have veiled the view.

    But fully in the dairy free camp in recent years, I’ll sidestep the cheesoise in favor of the inane.

    No rainbows were injured making this picture.

    Just to show I’m a nice guy. And comfortable patting myself on the back for being a nice guy. Or is that goofy? No, this is goofy.

    No ferries were injured making this picture…

    Basically the photo speaks (or whispers) enough on its own. I need to zip up my blather mouth and let the moment carry the post. Quietly. Except of the wind which was whipping. Is whipping. And the raindrops which — despite the sun and clear skies behind me — were beginning to pelt down. Hence my retreat from the boathouse hammock to the sunporch with a very soggy Griffin who chased frisbees in the rolling waves without the least concern for darkening skies and rainbows.

    Yes, rainbows. There are actually two. Can you see the slightly fainter echo of a rainbow just to the right of the more pronounced one? Look carefully. And you might even spot a pot of gold. Or a ferry?

  • Fox Tracks, Foxtrot & X-Country Skiing

    Fox Tracks, Foxtrot & X-Country Skiing

    Fox Track & Ski Tip
    Fox Track & Ski Tip

    An inch or two of fresh powder and bluebird skies above lured me away from my desk on Monday for a mid-morning x-country ski outing with my lab.

    Hooky!

    Crisp but otherwise perfect conditions were the enticement; fresh fox tracks (I think) were the unanticipated reward.

    Griffin, my water and snow loving labrador retriever was quick to find the scent of a recently visiting fox. Sniff, sniff, sniff.

    Judging from the single line this fellow was doing the foxtrot, not just wandering aimlessly.

    Foxes walk or trot in an alternating pattern, with prints nearly in a line. In shallow snow, foxes may trot in a two-print pattern or gallop in a four-print pattern. Dainty, oval tracks (2.3 to 3.1″ long) usually show small triangular foot pads, claw marks, and foot drag marks. (wildthingsultd.org)

    Tracking a Foxtrotting Fox

    I x-country skied all through Rosslyn’s meadows and woods for about an hour, and Griffin lunged giddily along, sending great colds of powdery snow up into the air. And throughout our adventures we kept crisscrossing the path of our foxtrotting friend. The fox tracks periodically followed my ski trail from the previous day, and at other times veered off on their own course. And yet throughout the 30+/- acres we were exploring the foxes tracks returned again and again.

    There’s a pleasant geometry in x-country ski trails, and the linear perfection of the fox tracks added to it, at times creating the illusion of a loosely interpreted argyle pattern across the undulating fields.

    Of course, Griffin was eager to pursue the fox tracks, but he mustered the focus to stay on course with me. And the reward was an extra long, extra fast workout for both of us.

    Here are few more photos from our outing.

  • Friday the 13th: Garden Update

    Garden Update: Soggy Friday the 13th
    Garden Update: Soggy Friday the 13th

    Rain rain go away,
    Come again another day.

    It’s been a soggy two days with nonstop rain falling from the fog-blocked dome above and spongy lawns that remember footfalls long after treads have passed.

    The meteorological gurus promise a sunny weekend. If they’re correct, and sometimes they actually are, then our vegetable garden will begin to transform from bog to fresh produce market… If not, I plan to plant watercress!

    Excuse my recent hiatus. Life continues afoot at Rosslyn, but I’ve been pouring time into manuscript revisions for an illustrated (think doodles) architectural handbook for our fair village on the still-flooded shores of Lake Champlain. Fun. Almost done.

    In the next couple of weeks I’ll try to catch you up on recent developments chez nous. Not just another garden update. There’s actually plenty of news in the tree-smashing-fence-but-not-smashing-house drama category, and also some news of spring/summer progress in the orchard and vegetable garden. For example, for the first time I’m experimenting with natural pesticide solutions for the fruit trees and vegetable plants. I’ll try to tackle this topic soon.

    For now, a couple of quick garden update snapshots of Rosslyn’s still partially unplanted and super-duper soggy vegetable patch. Can you identify what we’ve planted so far?

  • Slow Cooked Chicken

    Sorry the slide show is so fuzzy. And that this post is flickering to life almost a pair of weeks after the last tender morsel of slow cooked chicken went tobogganing down my gullet.

    As for the fuzzy photos, I’m not quite sure what happened. They looked crisp before I turned them into a slide show. Technology is an unreliable bed buddy! I’ll try to get the slide show gremlins sorted before posting another.

    Blustery Weekend = Slow Cooked Chicken

    It was bitterly cold two weekends ago, and not at all enticing for outdoor adventures. No sunshine. No fresh snow. Bone chilling cold, and constant wind. In short, the perfect conditions for culinary adventures!

    March triggered a deep-down biological alarm clock – ring-ring, ring-ring – that’s been jangling in my ear. “Spring thaw.” “Snow drops.” “Seed the tomatoes and eggplant…” And yet, snow and ice and cooold temps endure. It feels like springtime may still be a long way off.

    So rather than lamenting winter’s overstay, I decided to cook up some comfort food. I had picked up a 3.8 pound chicken with our Full and By farm share the previous Thursday, so I pulled out the big blade and played butcher.

    Improvisation: Slow Cooked Chicken 101

    Some meals require advance planning, meticulous execution, and draconian quality control. I don’t cook too many of those meals! I prefer more extemporaneous culinary adventures. Raid the larder for fresh goodies and then divine a common link…

    This slow cooked chicken fell unquestionably into the improvisational school. Whack up a local fresh bird into breasts, legs and wings. Tip the bird bits into hot coconut oil and brown up the skins with salt and pepper. Chop up some onions and scallions and heat them until just shy of caramelizing then return the chicken to the pot, add parsley bay leaves, garlic and the better part of a bottle of dry white wine. The most important step is also the simplest: slow cook all day. Let the house fill up with aromas so tempting that even my vegetarian bride comments on how delicious it smells.

    At day’s end, celebrate with a tasty, local, healthy supper. Comfort food…

    A special thanks to Sara and James at Full and By Farm for providing the fresh, organic chicken, onions and scallions that transformed this frosty midwinter weekend into a slow cooked chicken banquet!

  • Roofing Nails in the Driveway

    Roofing nails recovered from the driveway after carriage barn roof was replaced.
    Roofing nails recovered from the driveway after carriage barn roof was replaced.

    Roofing nails and driveways don’t mix. Or they shouldn’t mix. Like oil and water. But sometimes they do, like yesterday for example.

    It was mid-afternoon on Tuesday, July 6, a couple of weeks after contractors finished replacing the carriage barn’s rotten and leaky architectural shingles with a beautiful new standing seam roof. I noticed the spiky end of a roofing nail sticking up in the crushed stone driveway directly in front of the barn.

    I stooped and quickly recovered more than two dozen more extremely sharp roofing nails scattered where the contractors had parked the dump trailer – sort of a medium sized dumpster with wheels – that was used to collect all of the detritus (asphalt shingles, flashing and roofing nails) they were stripping off of the carriage barn roof.

    Roofing nails recovered from the driveway after carriage barn roof was replaced.
    Roofing nails recovered from the driveway after carriage barn roof was replaced.

    Roofing Nail Remediation

    I crawled around for another 10 minutes or so, visions of punctured tires flashing through my head, retrieving the roofing nails that perfectly match the color of the crushed stone. There were also many small fragments of asphalt shingle embedded in the stone driveway, and while I wish these weren’t there either, the roofing nails are a far greater concern.

    Tomorrow we will need to search the entire area with a “shop magnet” to ensure that we’ve removed all the cartoonishly menacing roofing nails. Before a car or tractor tire finds them…

    With luck we’ll catch any remaining spikes, but inevitably we’ll drive uneasily for quite a while. Such a simple oversight, and yet such a frustrating inconvenience. This long ago became a familiar pattern, part of the DNA of Rosslyn’s ongoing renovations. One problem solved, another problem (or two) inherited.

    Roofing Nails, Renovations and Redaction

    Perhaps this is the nature of renovating and revising and redacting. One step forward. One or two back. And the perennial risk of puncture!

  • Rosslyn Gardens: Time to Reseed the Greens

    Spinach seedlings in a raised bed... in August?!?!
    Spinach seedlings… in August?!?!

    It’s time for a late summer gardening update. The August heat’s been great for cycling and wake surfing, and for fast-tracking veggies (tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, squash, melons, corn, artichokes, cucumbers, leaks, broccoli and Brussels sprouts) after a rainy June.

    But hot, hot days also pose some challenges, especially for the leafy green vegetables like lettuce and spinach which are especially sensitive to high heat. Too much baking sun for too long and both will bolt before your eyes.

    Over the last week I’ve pulled up and composted all of the remaining greens. And this weekend I replanted.

    Nero di Toscana kale seedlings in a raised bed.
    Nero di Toscana kale seedlings in a raised bed.

    In addition to a new crop of lettuce and spinach, I’m experimenting with greens that I normally plant early in the summer. I would’ve planted kale and Swiss chard at the same time that we put in most of the other early summer vegetable transplants, but an incredibly rainy June didn’t offer amenable growing conditions. By the time the rains passed at the beginning of July, I was racing to try and catch up, and the kale and Swiss chard fell by the wayside.

    So I decided to plant both now.

    I expect that neither will reach maturity before autumn frosts stunt their growth, but I’m curious to see how they fare. The seeds emerged almost overnight, and I figure even premature kale and Swiss chard will be delicious to eat in late September and early October. I stuck with my favorite kale, Nero di Toscana, but I’m trying two unfamiliar varieties of Swiss chard, Fordhook Giant and Magenta Sunset.

    Swiss chard seedlings in a raised bed.
    Swiss chard seedlings in a raised bed.

    In the second and third photographs kale (left) and Swiss chard (right) flank a row of beets, the only veggie I didn’t compost in this raised bed.

    Although I love eating beets, we receive more than enough in our farm share from Full and By Farm, so I grow beets for their “green” instead. Including these beautiful violet black leaves in a salad adds welcome color and a slightly sweet earthiness that everyone seems to enjoy.

    I’m confident that the spinach and lettuce seedlings will be ready-to-eat by the end of the month, but the kale and chard are a gamble. I have no idea whether or not they’ll be large enough to eat before frost up some…

    I’ll update you when the time comes!

  • Chicken Provencal

    Organic chicken thighs, chopped onions and bay leaves.
    Organic chicken thighs, chopped onions and bay leaves.

    Can you smell the chicken Provencal wafting through Rosslyn?

    Sundays are the best day of the week for experimental cooking. Pungent aromas filling the house all day long just feels relaxing, the perfect reward for a week well lived.

    Besides, Sundays at Rosslyn tend to be the lazy day of the week, affording more time for culinary caprice. During the week, it’s easy to fall into the trap of “efficient cooking”. The schedule is tighter, and the risks of a flop can outweigh the joys of taking risks in the kitchen. But on Sunday I get brave. It’s time for adventure!

    This morning’s dish was less adventurous than some previous experiments – chicken Provencal (or chicken Provençal if you’re French-ish) is a pretty straightforward – but it nevertheless fueled my anticipation receptors. Enter the slow cooker. It’s the perfect way to concentrate flavors, preserve tenderness and stretch out the pleasure of a fine meal. Think of the aromas wafting through our house, enticing my appetite, tempting an early taste. Or two. (Though undercooked chicken offers pretty effective sneak prevention!)

    Three hours at low in the slow cooker and, voila, chicken Provencal!
    Three hours at low in the slow cooker and, voila, chicken Provencal!

    I’ve often joked that some foods like bacon, popcorn, and chocolate chip cookies are almost as enjoyable to smell during their preparation phase as they are to actually eat. Take away the aroma of bacon cooking, and you’re left with a crinkled, strip of fat and marginal meat. But smell the bacon in the skillet, hear the occasional crackle, and you’re halfway to heaven before the first crunch.

    Slow cooked sundae meals fit into the same category. The tangled fragrance of bay leaves and tarragon sweetened with caramelized onions. And the juicy chicken and white wine gradually marinating as it cooks. Tantalizing!

    Here’s what I did:

    • Cleaned, dried and browned four organic chicken thighs in olive oil, salt and pepper.
    • Saute two finely chopped medium onions with three bay leaves.
    • Add the chicken thighs to the onions and bay leaves, and pout 2 cups of dry white wine overtop.
    • Slow cook on low for three hours.

    It’s a hearty meal for two people or a savory middle course for four people. Today I paired the chicken provencal with garlic wilted spinach drizzled, but Brussels sprouts would also pair nicely. Along with the rest of that bottle of white wine. Aaahhh, Sundays…

    The gallery below shows a bit more of the process. Enjoy.