A study for a larger painting, a bouquet of mint blossoms on a linen cloth.
24 x 18, oil on panel
In October we had the invasion of crab apples (and fruit flies) in the studio, wind storms with power outages, and revelations about drapery and the role of drawing in painting thanks to a dear friend lending me her copy of Modern Prints and Drawings by Paul Sachs.
Now it has turned November and we have quince in progress, 24 x 18, oil on panel.
The garden is dark and cold, time to move the harvest into the studio.
Coates willow charcoal on panel, 24 x 18.
With last night’s full moon we left the cold, wet Spring for full-on 90 degree sun and westerly winds at 20 knots – suddenly it’s summer. The garden will change rapidly now as the plants soak up more than 16 hours of sunlight a day. Here goes an attempt to catch up!
I started this post just after the Strawberry Full Moon on June 9. Then I went outside to harvest some green onions and lettuce and the garden pulled me under. I’ve been planting green beans and throwing hay on the potatoes, putting in the second crop of peas and wrapping tree tape and Tanglefoot on the fruit trees. Today I have a few minutes on a rainy Saturday morning and will perhaps get this post published before the Buck Moon on July 9!
Ripening strawberries, var Sparkle. We netted the plants against rodents this year but the goshawks in the nearby Kittredge Forest Preserve are doing their part to keep the red squirrel population in check.
The tree peony in full bloom – a huge draw with the early morning honeybees.
Dwarf Sour Cherry tree “Carmine Jewel”, will grow to about 7′ and about as wide, good for keeping the fruit in easy reach. I hate to pick from a ladder! Some growers report harvesting 20 – 30 lbs of fruit from one tree so there’s really no need to go bigger. This one is developing a nice trunk and is loaded with fruit.
Baby Seckel pears will be ripe in late September. The white splotches on the leaves are left after spraying with Surround CP, a white clay in suspension that forms a barrier against pests.
Baby peaches on the Garnet Beauty peach tree. The bees did good work this year.
The view out the front door facing south, with a new bed (beets and carrots) and of course the fixtures of every Maine garden: giant spruce trees and an electric fence charger!
Here’s to fitting in a post before the Sturgeon Moon on August 7th!
I very much wanted to title this piece “Mrs. M. and the Cherry Tree That Desperately Needs Pruning” but that sounded too much like the next Harry Potter novel.
This is a study for a larger painting, but we have to get our model time in when we can (especially during blackfly season).
Ivory Black on panel, 24 x 24
Hibiscus is one of the last perennials to “wake up” every spring in the Maine garden, but is reliably, improbably, hardy in zone 5. Come September the flowers glow like torches lit against the dark maroon foliage. An autumn morning cloudy sky and apple branches add to the illusion that the papery flowers, beloved of Kali, are lit from within.
Hibiscus #1, 36 x 24, oil on panel
This morning the temperature has reached 50 degrees without a trace of breeze to disturb the February sunshine. Bees are flying around the hive, producing a ring of waste and corpses as they work at spring cleaning. It’s a perfect day to pop the top cover off and add to their stores as the first of their natural food sources won’t be in full production for another six weeks or so.
Last year I had correspondence with an elderly woman keeping bees in Visby, “The Gateway to Gotland” in northern Sweden. There is a tradition there of leaving the top super on all year with the “summer board” entrance covered over loosely with newspaper (traditionally it was birch bark). The advantages are that it allows for more air circulation, the newspaper or bark absorbs excess moisture (condensation is a bee-killer), and if the bees get restless for new space in the early spring they can move upstairs and build new comb. I find it’s handy for quick inspection and for feeding fondant and sugar syrup. This is my first year using the technique and my bees haven’t built any comb up there, but we have at least six weeks of winter yet to come – they have time on their hands and a play space if they want it.
They did come up through the inner cover to greet me when I dropped off the fondant.
Yesterday I finished an inventory of the journals found in my mother’s collection of papers. I’ve found them in ones and twos and occasionally five-years-worth tied together with ancient baling twine but haven’t run across any new ones lately, so I think this must be the lot: 53 books by two authors spanning the years 1900 to 1942. Here’s a sampling:
From Raymond Harrison Barnard (1893 – 1947) this entry for August 9, 1938 is about Jessie H. MacDonald’s death in Stevenson, Scotland; “our dear friend”. She was the family’s housekeeper for 25 years and had been visiting her birthplace in Scotland when she passed away unexpectedly at age 60. My mother remembers the family’s grief when they received the new that she had died right about the time they expected her to return. RHB’s journals are always inked in his lovely, loose scrawl and annotated with clippings and letters.
Benjamin Isaac (BI) Miller (1868 -1949); BI’s journals are done in pencil, interleaved with bills, receipts, and solicitations addressed to “The Mayor, Hartford Connecticut”. This little drawing of the farm is done on the back of a letter and carefully taped together with linen strips on the back.
From BI’s journal in 1914, a mimeograph from the Hartford County Rural Development Association encouraging us to “buy local” more than a century ago. It’s still a good read.
Both men were fond of including pamphlets and advertisements in their journals. They wrote about attending presentations at the Grange and Masonic Halls on tuberculosis, infantile paralysis (polio) and the Mile of Dimes, eye exams, air raid protocols, and the latest news from Washington DC. Here’s a selection from RHB’s journal about the Panama Canal, which opened on August 15, 1914.
There’s a wealth of material about everyday life in the last century in these little books. Consider contributing to your local historical society to help them preserve your past. These journals will be at the Wintonbury Historical Society in Bloomfield, Connecticut.
A new piece that explores my new ideal of representing plants surrounded by both their environment and compatriots; a group portrait as if Rembrandt’s Night Watch were tall herbs assembling on the garden path in all their finery.
Elecampne on the Garden Path, oil on panel, 36 x 24