NORTH(east)ERN EXPOSURE

Pots glazed and ready for firing.

Half ton of clay delivered on Friday.

Preparing to make sundried tomatoes with garden fresh sun golds and sweet selects.


Cherry tomatoes heading into the dehydrator.

Rolling out the pizza dough.
Only in an artist's kitchen would an LLBean thermos be used in place of a rolling pin...because the rolling pin is in the studio to be used on clay!

Last night's pizza LOOKED fabulous with whole grain crust, fresh-from-garden basil pesto, chanterelle mushrooms. and our own sundried tomatoes....too bad the oven decided to stop working!


Bouli....so photogenic.

Early morning walks in Lubec remind me of the 1990's TV program Northern Exposure. Do you remember the opening of that show, where a moose ambles through downtown? Luckily, I haven't come face-to-face with such an enormous creature in the prime of rutting season, but the critters are definitely making their presence known. The walk is a fairly basic route, past houses, fields, and down a quiet tree-groved side road. Two morning walks in a row I have seen a doe and her fawns. They notice me, give a slight flicker of the while tail, and then continue to go about their grazing. Canadian Geese rest in a field, preparing for their southward travel, and crows caw and cackle loudly in trees while eagles soar overhead. There are remnants of coyote scat all along the road, signaling a busy night and reason why we are so diligent about making sure the cats are in and undercover before nightfall. Perhaps the most recent amusing morning-walk spectacle was the flying spruce cones. First I heard this crackling and knocking sound like small branches breaking free and tumbling downward, then I noticed that these little cones were flying right out of the tree, raining down to the ground. The massive amount of shedding had me think that I had perhaps come upon the precise, magical, moment when a tree decided to shed its heavy-weighted cones, but upon further inspection I eyed a little squirrel near the tip of the spruce. She was shaking, knocking, and tossing cones to the ground in frenzied preparation of colder temps to come. We locked gazes briefly then she quickly returned to the task at hand.

Chris and I have been a bit like that little squirrel lately. The colder temps and winds that signal autumn combined with the shade-changing and tumbling-down of leaves has us scurrying to put food away for winter. Harvested basil prompted pesto-production, tomato bounty elicited sundrying (via dehydrator) as well as a big batch of spaghetti sauce which will be cooked and canned later today. The pole beans have been prolific so those will also be canned this week, and apples are being scouted for apple sauce. The garden produced much better results than last year, although, we fully acknowledge that we have much to learn about farming our tiny plot. It continues to be a work in progress.

Last night's gourmet pizza with fresh pesto, sun dried tomatoes, and wild-harvested chanterelle mushroom had our mouths watering. It had been a long day of work for the two of us and this late-night dinner was sure to hit the spot. To our extreme disappointment, we discovered that the oven had kicked-out on us, heating after over an hour to only 325 degrees. Apparently that was the only temp I had been cooking at lately and hadn't noticed any problems. Who knows how long the lack of heat has been an issue. Needless to say - the pizza looked far better than it tasted. Attempts to cook the bottom of the crust in a fry pan were not hugely successful. Let's just say, I woke at 4:00 a.m. a bit hungry from lack of adequate supper. Deja vu struck...wasn't it only three weeks ago that the pottery kiln wouldn't reach full temp? What is it with me and these ovens?

Happily, the elements are back to working order in the kiln. There are still issues though, noticing that the thermocouple is not reading the temps accurately. I have ditched all expectations of reliability and have resorted to firing with old-fashioned cone pacs. To regain some consistency, I decided to retest all my glazes at both cone 5 and cone 6. Yesterday the cone 5 test fire ran and I will unload and check those little wobbly lopsided mini pots later this morning. Once unloaded, I will reload for the cone 6 test firing and let that run while I am working on my fall semester projects for the Heartwood College of Art MFA program. As usual, I am multitasking and wearing several hats at once. With the change of my teaching job to half time, one would think I would have gained extra "free" time, but that would have been an unrealistic expectation I suppose. I am busier than ever juggling teaching, pottery, running the shop, MFA classes, and now we can add the proverbial winter nut-storing to the list. Note that photo above of the 1/2 ton clay shipment. Food isn't the only thing being stored for winter around here!

Next weekend is the Two Countries One Bay Artist Studio Tour. I look forward to that event each year and meeting new and interesting folks who are scurrying from studio to studio to catch the rare glimpse inside over fifty working-artist spaces. I have lots of prep to do before the event begins. I spent the past two days glazing work not only for the test fires but for the tour, too. I have been blessed with excellent sales this summer, and now the shelves are looking a wee bit bare to me. I look forward to restocking them for the weekend and for other upcoming events this fall.

The only other news to report (which isn't really "news) since the last time I blogged is that we survived Hurricane Irene in good order. Luckily for us downeast it wasn't so bad - a bit of heavy rain and wind but no damage that I heard of. News forecasts showed that others did not fare so well in the more northern parts and up through Vermont. We definitely skirted the worst of what could have been and for that I am thankful.

The cats continue to coexist as best they can. A bit of hissing and growling still ensues and Bello tries to stake his claim on certain areas while Bouli continues to dance on the edge of boundaries. If people could get along at least half as well as these two have after being thrust into each others' personal spaces, then we could say that we have come a long way.

Bicentennial Week in Lubec

The garden is growing, slowly but surely!

The peas seem quite happy!

Cobscook Pottery has re-opened post-bee incident!

Summer pottery production began today.

I think the excitement of the bee swarm has finally started to subside. Chris returned from visiting family and has settled back-in to Lubec life and I have regained some sort of usual routine with walking, creating, and gardening. Bouli is still a handful and I have found myself googling things such as "when does a kitten start to calm down?" She is a wild two-pound ball of energy who eats everything in sight from toes to beetles, and this morning captured her first mouse. It is a challenge to get work done when those adorable blue eyes follow us around begging for attention, but somehow we have a system where Chris and I cooperatively conquer "Bouli-mania" and manage to get to our tasks.

It is the fourth of July week and Lubec's bicentennial. The town is alive with excited energy and festive events, and this marks the beginning of tourist season. I am not persnickety when it comes to tourists (I know some folks are!) I love them! I enjoy meeting interesting folks from all over the globe. That's one of the neat things about running a micro-business here. On the business side of things, I am trying to exercise some sort of commitment to set hours this summer season. It's hard to do when the lake and the loons call and the kayaks start to beg our attention, or on some days when I am in a creating mood and don't want to leave the pottery cave to clean-up for guests. But so far, I have done well staying open consistently. That being said, the bees were cause for a few -days of shutdown last week. I didn't think that most folks would want to take-up company with thousands of potentially-stinging buzzing creatures.

Yesterday was my first planned full-day of production at the wheel. I had just completed two days of glazing and got the kiln loaded and firing. When I got ready to sit at the wheel my motivation seemed null. It was a bit confusing since I am generally such a workaholic - and if those bees had one message for me - it would be productivity! But I guess I need a day of calm to regroup. After a few hours of bumbling around without purpose, I went to the garden, slathered in SPF 30, and spent about four hours weeding and planting. I get that same peaceful feeling when working in the garden as I do when working with clay. It isn't much of a stretch being that they are both earth. So, it was a late start to the day for me, but come evening I could have gone on another couple hours if I hadn't been so annoyed by the mosquitoes. I'll try to plant a few more swiss chard seedlings this week and weed a few more rows. And, I did finally get to throwing this morning. It was only a two-hours session since I have so many things to get done today - but am hoping for a full run at the wheel tomorrow.

A busy week ahead is planned with Lubec Arts Alive. I, along with my co-committee and volunteers, will be at Flatiron Corner Tuesday and Wednesday painting of the herring cutouts for the kinetic sculpture. We hope that lots of people, of all ages, join us in completing this work of art! It's a super neat project and I look forward to its installation at Lubec Landmarks on Thursday. Friday we will be at Mowry Beach for the Goldsworthy-style artwork. The beach art is always fun, always relaxing, and a perfect end to this year's event. This is our third year with Lubec Arts Alive. It looks like we are here to stay! Kudos to our team!!!

I best get back to work.....paperwork, community work, housework, artwork.

Loving summer.

Blank Canvas

Dumping the loam

Preparing to plot a garden

Last summer our yard was battered-around during construction and this spring we were left with a mound of gravel and sprouts of field grass in scattered clumps. Attempts at dropping grass seed didn't yield any improvement. I even tried mowing "the desert" a couple weeks ago. I don't recommend such action to anyone else in our same predicament. The dust was clouding around me and rocks were flying. Perhaps more of a battlefield than anything else!

"Plan B" went into action a few days ago. I arranged for a loam delivery, having been told that this is what we would need to do should we want grass, in any recognizable pattern, ever again.

It's always exciting when big equipment pulls up the drive. I managed to grab the camera just in time to catch the truck bed lift-up and dump. Bello ran and hid, fearful of any big booming noises. Carl then got into his little yellow tractor and pushed the dirt around the hill we call our front yard.

Before all these changes, we had a five foot wide swath of grass bordered by phlox, digitalis, valerian, rose bush, lilies, primrose, and peony. It was sad to lose these plants last summer, a casualty of the excavation equipment. But this spring, remnants of the yard-past keep popping up in new places. The phlox is peeking through in varied spots and the digitalis is now lining the driveway. Chris planted a new rose bush a few weeks ago, and I am waiting with anticipation to see where the primrose will surface, or if we will ever see the ancient peony again.

Yesterday yielded gorgeous blue skies and near tropical (by Lubec standards!) temps. I was eager to get outside to work in the yard but the day's chores of pottery, paperwork, and prepping for guests kept me inside. After company left at 6:00, the weather was still holding and I decided that I would take advantage. I spent a couple hours raking out the big clumps of loam to create some sort of smooth grass-growing surface. And now....

I am staring at a blank canvas.

"Plan C": Plant a veggie and herb garden.

I know this is common for most everyone else, but in our nine years of living in Lubec, Chris and I have not planted a garden. A friend, whom we consider a master gardener, offered-up some seedlings. So, here we go.

Chris and I had a very successful garden in Tennessee, but the previous homeowner had preened the soil just-so. All we had to do was turn the earth and plop in plants and seeds. Not even a bit of fertilizer. Here, contending with a big pile of gravel, there is much more prep work to do. But since we needed the loam...why not just go for it? So, in the car waits chicken wire, manure, and a hoe.

This will be an adventure for certain, an experiemnt to see what plants we will be capable of growing in this windy coastal climate, and what critter-casualties will occur. It goes against my better visual/aesthetic senses to put chicken wire in the front yard....but I am thinking a trade-off of fresh cherry tomatoes, basil, and squash is pretty good. The rabbit and the fawn will just have to look at the fresh produce with envy.

We see this year's garden as an experiment to better prepare us for next summer. Should our garden grow, we will look into purchasing canning equipment and trying our hand at that. Hopefully some local friends will take pity on our lack of knowledge and offer to teach us the tricks of the trade. Side-note: Is it hard to make and can apple sauce?

I am anxious to get my hands into the rich soil. Gardening gives me that same peaceful feeling I get when working with clay.

I'm glad that I did my raking last night. The rain is starting to fall this morning, making for a quiet grey day here in downeast Maine. I'll take advanatage of the indoor time to trim yesterday's pots and continue work on a new project. It's good reflective time.

In the meantime, are there any "must-knows" for us before the seedlings get planted? Sage advice from master gardners? I couldn't find zucchini or summer squash seedlings, will seeds work just fine this late in the season?