Archive for July, 2009

New work

Monday, July 27th, 2009

rose-fondant

So, I’m thinking of starting a new title theme for my work, along the lines of Russian primitive icon labels. They are typically one long sentence that tells the story of the work: St. Paul rides a Lamb out of the gates of The Holy City at Sunset as beggars strew Palm Fronds. . .you get the idea. This painting would be called “Hansa Roses and Dianthus in a Bell jelly jar with black cherries on a Dutch plate on Jane Wineberger’s table linen around mid-day in July”. I know what everything is in my drawings – it would be hard not to what with staring at those items for hours and hours. Seems like I ought to own up to the knowledge, especially when I want to emphasize the object in the context of the painting, as is the case with the Dutch plate which belonged to my neighbor Rose, who died on Midsommer.

I guess the proof will be going forward, if I can keep to a schema. You should let me know what you think.

Monkey Bread

Thursday, July 23rd, 2009

monkey-breadThis is a really ugly photo of a wonderful cake. Seriously, it’s so good it has been massacred by its fans. I have no idea why this cake is called “Monkey Bread” – oh wait, I could look it up. Wikipedia says the origin of the name is not certain, but it may have been the cake’s resemblance to the Monkey Puzzle Tree, an ancient conifer that evolved spiky leaves to prevent the dinosaurs from eating it before it grew out of range. The leaves are so sharp that the French name for the tree is “Monkey’s Despair”. Monkeys are not native anywhere in the range of the tree, however, so we’ll let this one go as “uncertain origin”. I love the interwebs. Here is the recipe. Make it for dinner-desert and birthdays for those under 12 and over 70.   Not such a hit at bake sales and tea parties.

You will need:

1/2 C Brown Sugar
* 2 sticks of butter (1 cup)
* Bundt Cake Pan
* 2 – 3 tsp Cinnamon

2 recipes of your favorite buttermilk biscuits. Hint – if you’re doing this with children, or at camp, or even without any excuse what-so-ever, you can use three cans of those biscuits from the dairy case at the grocery store. Get the regular, non-flaky kind or they won’t fit in the bundt pan. And also, no one will be able to tell. There’s a reason they engineer this stuff – those are pretty good biscuits in the tube.

1 C sugar

1 pint blueberries or raspberries, or 1 C raisins

Make the biscuit dough (or pop the tube – you know you want to). Cut the biscuits in to quarters. Put them in a plastic bag with the cup of white sugar and 2 (I use 3) tsp cinnamon and roll them around until coated. Pile the quarters in the bundt pan – try to lever the pieces up the sides and leave a tunnel in the middle for the fruit. Scatter the fruit and add the remaining pieces to cover.  I wish I’d taken some pictures during the process, but I had a load of laundry in, dinner at Aunt Y’s later in the day, weeds growing as I watched, you know the drill.

Melt the butter in a saucepan and add the brown sugar, cook until “married”, as it says in my mother-in-law’s Joy of Cooking. Basically, the mixture will turn tan and bubbly. Don’t let it get too sticky, we’re not making candy here. Pour it over the biscuit pieces and fruit. Note that I didn’t mention greasing the bundt pan – I’ve never had this cake stick to any pan, no matter how fancy the shape. The dough is just no match for the half-tonne of butter we just poured over it.

Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes until dark and shiny on top. Let it cool 15 – 20 minutes before you turn it out on to a generous plate – there will be a little extra sauce. Serve right then or store at room temperature for a day – I guarantee you won’t have it hanging around for longer than that. I like to serve this with extra fruit and whipped cream, because I hate my arteries.  Wonderful. Still no idea why they call it Monkey Bread.

Scenes from today’s Garden

Tuesday, July 21st, 2009

Just went out and took garden pictures in the rain. Here are: Blue Angel Hosta with “finger-pruned” white spruce. Pinching the spruce buds half-way back with the fingers every spring, just as they are about to lose their papery brown “cap”, creates a soft, feathery look and keeps the tree’s size within bounds of the garden.  It is generally a bonsai technique but works just as well in the field.

hosta-july

On the other side of the hosta are the Japanese Iris, Nehretsubane.

japanese-iris

And, on the other side of the garden, the pale pink dwarf Campenula is in bloom . .

dwarf-campenula

. . next to the Rose Campion.

rose-campion

Summer dinner.

Sunday, July 19th, 2009

Johnnycake with maple syrup, salad greens from the garden with Sunset Farm chevre and strawberries. And yes, I am three weeks behind in reading the Island’s weekly paper. . . that’s what happens in the summer time.

july-garden-dinner

Johnny cake with fresh corn

  • 1 stick unsalted butter
  • 2 tablespoons sugar (optional)
  • 2 C fresh corn, cut off the cob*
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 3/4 cup stone-ground cornmeal
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup whole milk or buttermilk
  • 2 large eggs, lightly beaten

Preparation

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle.

Melt butter in a 12-inch cast iron  skillet with high sides. Mine was sold as a “fricasse pan.

Whisk together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, salt  in a bowl. Whisk in milk,  eggs  just until smooth. Dump it (carefully) into the hot butter. Bake until golden and a wooden pick inserted in center of cake comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool in pan on a rack 15 minutes, then run a knife around edge of cake to loosen and invert onto a platter, or just scoop it out with a big spoon on to plates (my choice). Serve with maple syrup and butter.

This is a great way to use fresh corn that isn’t great – a little starchy, or the kernels are too big, or it just spent too long on the truck and dried out a bit. Fresh corn doesn’t travel well. Try to pick ears from under the pile at the grocery store where they’ve been kept dark and damp. Or, wait till late September and hope your husband’s Silver Queen makes it through before the frost. . .

Fire.

Friday, July 17th, 2009

july-garden-clean-upToday was forecast to be “mostly cloudy”, which on the island means fog and drizzle until afternoon when the wind changes over the ocean and blows the clouds off. Meanwhile, I got a fire permit for brush cleanup in the lower garden. A fire permit. In July. That should never happen – I actually took this picture just so I’d have proof ten years from now, surrounded by the dry, crisp brown foliage and powdery duff of a more typical July in 2020.

Rules for a garden fire are fairly simple:

1. Get a permit. Really, it’s so much less embarrassing when you have to call for help later on. Most of Mount Desert Island burned in 1947, so we have an actual professional department with a barracks and everything, rather than volunteers.  They’re wonderful folks, and they won’t issue you a permit if it’s a bad idea.

2. Don’t burn the pile. You’ve made a big pile of brush (or inheritited a big pile of brush) and now you’ve got your permit and you’re planning to light it up. Start by tugging dry branches, evergreen boughs and possibly a waxed milk or juice carton if you have one handy into a nice clear spot with no overhanging trees. Light your fire and then pull more and heavier pieces from the pile as it burns down. A friend of mine set fire to a big pile of branches at her new house and there was most of a ‘57 John Deer tractor under there. That was a very big fire. The other risk is that something, or things, will have moved in and won’t get out in time. Not only is this traumatic for the onlookers and the bunny rabbit, but if the bunny is on fire when it runs all over the neighbor’s hayfield you will end up with a very, very big fire. Trust me on that one.

3. Don’t let the fire get between you and your tools. Put the shovel, rake, pruning shears, crosscut saw, water bottles, camera and whatever else you need in a wheelbarrow, and park it on the lee side of the fire. If the wind changes direction, move the wheelbarrow. It’s embarrassing and expensive to have your fire tools all burnt up while you watch.

4. A good brush fire can be swept up as ash when it’s done. I put big pieces aside and use them as walkways in the swamp. Not everybody has three acres of swamp, but you might have a use for branches more than 3″ in diameter. They take a while to burn. If you’re going to throw them on the fire be sure you have all day free and perhaps a chair and a book. And a flashlight.

5. Be non-flammable. Well, as much as possible. Avoid filmy dangling clothing, loose hair, open shoes, aerosol sprays for insects. Natural fibres burn, which is marginally better than polymers that melt to your skin. I was always amazed at my son’s friends who came over to watch the bonfire in their white nylon windbreakers. Have some extra “brush fire” clothing to lend out if you’re expecting company.

6. Mind your bees. My hives are noticeably more “touchy” about a brush fire if I’ve inspected them in the days prior. Give them about a week to settle down about smoke before you have a fire nearby, if you can.

This grass snake settled in about 10′ from the fire and stayed there all afternoon.It was a good day.

snake

Swan’s Island Library – the Illustrated Page

Sunday, July 12th, 2009

The library on Swan’s Island burned to the ground with all its contents on July 24, 2008. It had been recently renovated and the destruction of the town’s community center, Friends meeting place, yoga studio, historical society and library all in one was a great loss. The Educational Society collected the charred pages scattered on the ground after the fire, and distributed them to Maine artists for eventual auction and fundraising toward a new building.

In the tradition of re-working vellum pages in Medieval Europe, I’ve ornamented my page with gold leaf and vermillion. Stayed tuned for more information on the auction, or check in at the Swan’s Island Educational Society.

illustrated-swans-island-library

Late to the bees

Sunday, July 5th, 2009

June in New England brought record high rainfall totals everywhere, and the few sunny hours have been on week days. I hived my bees in mid-May and have been unable to get in to check on them since. Activity levels tell me that they’ve been getting enough to eat – workers are visibly laden with pollen and my check list of flowering plants has been progressing nicely, from Labrador tea to raspberry through pea blossoms to lupine, even in the douwnpours.  Today we reached a low of 38% cloud cover and I figured, to these bees, that’s sunlight. As soon as 10:30 a.m. rolled around the temperature had climbed into the low seventies. I donned full gear, figuring they would be testy, and fired up the smoker.

free-comb-2My primary tasks for today were to check for a laying queen (through the presence of eggs and larvae) and give them some additional living space (if necessary).I use medium supers because I’m not strong enough to move a full hive body weighing over 130 pounds.

As soon as I removed the hive top feeder I knew I was a little late to the game. You can see the extensive free comb the bees have worked in an effort to expand upsward. I took the feeders off both hives and added a medium super, propping the feeder on its back next to the hive entrance to encourage retrieval of the honey and pollen stores. This picture was taken a few minutes after I removed the feeder.  The picture below is six hours later and the comb is fairly clean.

I run 9 frames in 10 frame equipment. It makes the comb a little deeper and the boxes a little lighter. It is interesting to note that the spacing of the free comb mirrors the frame spacing, even if it cants off in different angles after few inches.

free-comb-3These two hives are named “To Bee” and “Not to Bee”. “Not” is a nuc start hive and is still a little more populous than “To”. The bees in “Not” were completely unfazed by my invastion this morning – didn’t even come up to check me out. “To” was fairly agressive, coming up to the face veil and following me about 20′ from the hive after I was finished.  Here’s a close-up of the free comb with bees still attending. It was actually fairly difficult to determine absolutely that the queen was not milling around there somewhere.

free-comb-1

The bright side

Friday, July 3rd, 2009

After rainfall for the month of June is tallied in double digits, after violent winds have shaken the fruit trees and pushed over the valerian and lupine, the carrot and dill seeds have washed away in multiple plantings; what’s doing well in the garden now that we’re into July?

greenhouseEverything in the hoop house is just fine. Juliet, Purple Melissa and currant tomatoes are happy and blossoming while their outdoor cousins are turning yellow around the edges. Sacred basil, anise hyssop and the second crop of lettuces are still in pots, waiting for the day when I can dodge showers long enough to plant them out.

And the other rising star is the stinkhorn, Mutinus elegans.  They come up wherever they please, in no particular soil or location around the garden, they spread their spore in a smelly slime that attracts flies. One of the few fungus I’ve researched that, while not poisonous, is nowhere considered edible.

mutinus-elegans1

Little bells

Thursday, July 2nd, 2009

campenula-iThe Campenula are in bloom, and we had a sunny day! This variety has a lustrous blossom, the petals are almost reflective, and a beautiful color in the sunlight.

campenula-iiThis photo shows the starry, silvered dwarf campenula, as well as the dwarf variety with huge, pendulous white blooms. Not for the first time, I swear Ill be better about recording what variety I plant somewhere permanent and easily referenced.