Kindergarten Art Class

Yesterday we studied Land Art. "A movement in which landscape and the work of art are inextricably linked..." 

After watching a short documentary, viewing some examples and discussing what might happen when something you've created is subject to the many elements and whims of nature we went on a material-gathering walk.

Then, with our front walk as our canvas, and spray starch and nature our only mediums we went to work.

Here are some of the results.

It was very freeing and a lot of fun. 

‘Tis the season for Chai. 

I am working on a homemade recipe. When I have perfected it I will let you know. Until then I am enjoying all the scents, of the many spices involved, wafting through my kitchen. 

Letters are like wine; if sound they should ripen with keeping. A man should lay down letters as he does a cellar of wine.

Samuel Butler

A small sampling of the love letters my husband leaves me everyday he goes to work.

SpOOn and LeVeL

Honey.

I love it. 

It's one of those foods, much like eggs, that you can't think too much about while eating and yet, if you think about it just enough, it's pretty amazing stuff.

In all the world there is nothing that tastes like honey. The mere phrase "sweet as honey" needs no explanation or further description and I often wonder who it was that first reached into a bee hive, pulled out some of the comb and decided to sample the viscous, golden liquid oozing from inside. I'm sure they knew immediately they had stumbled upon something revolutionary. But how they managed to subsequently talk anyone else into trying it I can only imagine.

"You want me to get what out of where...and eat it?"

A lot of the recipes I use rely on honey. And we go through quite a bit. It's the first thing I reach for when someone has a sore throat and on days when you're feeling crummy or yucky or just plain down nothing beats honey toast or a hot cup of strong tea, liberally sweetened with honey.

Now in case you are wondering the above photo is indeed a spoonful of honey. But not just any honey. Creamed honey. 

For months I have been OBSESSED with dark chocolate honey mints. Best invention ever, in my opinion. I buy them, locally sourced, from our health food store in town. Or I buy them from Trader Joe's.

And I got to wondering if they were something I could make at home.

They are not.

But creamed honey is.

 And it's pretty simple, really. As you can see from the picture the results are impressive. The end product is thick and white and not real reminiscent of the transparent liquid you start with.

All you need is a mixer and equal portions liquid honey to crystalized honey. 

Honey crystallization happens naturally over time. As most people find out. And it can be reversed with heat. As anyone who's ever melted a plastic quintessential-bear shaped honey container in the microwave can attest to. If you go through it too quickly for crystallization to take place on it's own, as is the case in our house, you can speed up the process by leaving some out in the open air, uncovered, for about a week.

Then simply beat the liquid honey and the crystalized honey together for anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes and store the resulting creamed or whipped spread in the fridge.

For a real treat mix a little with some coconut butter (or regular butter) and cinnamon and enjoy on soft, warm bread.

(A word of caution about the beating process. Make sure your bowl is locked in place. Mine wasn't and let's just say things got real interesting for a few moments. Honey was flying everywhere. E, who was helping out, literally ducked for cover behind the garbage can. I thought about joining her. I almost did. But a little voice inside my head reminded me that I had to be the responsible one and turn the mixer off. Which is actually quite a challenging feat when a metal bowl spewing honey is flying around, loose, on your countertop, getting in your way as you try to reach the off switch. )

Family Fall Trip...

...a return to the simple things.

Every year since little miss E was three months old we have taken a family trip out to the gorgeous western part of this state And for the past 4 years we've stayed at the exact same place. We rent a lovely modernized farm house tucked up alongside the Bad Axe river.

This year was no exception.

While there we spent our time hiking woodland trails, wading in the ICE cold Bad Axe river, and feeding the resident horse, llama, donkeys and sheep. We watched the Scottish Highland cows graze in their pasture across the suspended bridge over the river and we chased the 2 lovable barn cats everywhere. (Well, mostly E did that. And they reciprocated by following after her like puppies.)

Each night we watched millions of stars appear as the mellow Autumn daylight melted away and the Milky way grew brighter and brighter until it was a thick silver ribbon lacing up the dark sky. We heard Coyotes howling so close by that the hair on the back of our necks couldn't help but stand up. We caught snakes and frogs and toads. (But the spiders the size of silver dollars, those we left alone.)

We had bonfires and picnics and enormous pancake brunches. We drank coffee and hot cocoa out on the porch swing and watched the low rain clouds descend into the valley and get stuck and trail misty finger along the tops of the towering ridges. We collected acorns and blew Milkweed fluff and scavenged corn cobs to bring back for the animals. We bought pumpkins and went to an apple orchard and read James Herriot's veterinary tales, which were wildly appropriate.

And as is, I suppose, only to be expected of life in the country we got stung by bees, bit by baby donkeys and covered in Stinging Nettle rashes. None of that dampened our experience though. In all, we had an amazing time. And we made our reservations for next year as soon as we got home.

This week...

...was pink tutus and birthday parties, long country drives in the evening sunshine and late nights around the fire, colored candles and trillions of stars, frost and early morning fog, fishing and annual family photos...

Fall in Columbus Circle...? 

Beautiful. As my photos from last year attest.

Fall in our own personal yard this year...? 

Not so picturesque. 

Everything is looking kind of...well...scruffy. Unkempt. Rough.

The 60+ Hostas we divided and transplanted in early September are limp and yellowing. 

The garden plot I tilled, fertilized, planted and faithfully tended finally and sadly succumbed to the toxicity of our yard's soil. (Courtesy of our neighbor's towering Black Walnut tree.) And it is now a barren patch of dirt. 

Our raspberries are gangly and sparse.

 Our mulch is a topographical relief map of holes, hundreds and thousands of holes. (Again, courtesy of our neighbor's towering Black Walnut tree and the hundreds and thousands of squirrels it attracts.) 

Enormous spiderwebs and equally enormous spiders festoon every corner and crevice and overhang, wasps swarm to any and every available drop of water and in general you get the sense that everything is longing for winter. 

To be put out of it's misery. 

And given a break. 

And that includes us.

But for now yard work abounds. My hope is to have things tidied up by Halloween. A rather, at this point at least, seemingly daunting prospect. (I think I will leave the spiderwebs perhaps...)

However, lest I sound too, too, "woe is me" and depressing here are pictures of a few of the literal bright spots that yet remain. Determined. Intrepid. Thriving amid the slow downhill descent of Autumn.

Enjoy!