big celebration

upper and lower lakes

on sunday morning

i picked rich up at 6.

i was early. 

he was earlier.

just before we turned into the spot

five sandhill cranes flew over.

new to me.

exquisite, he said they're likely here now

they've been moving east.

 we took an easy hike out

to the observation tower

past a termite mound

and early morning birds and mosquitoes everywhere,

rich set up the scope and proceeded to teach me all about the birds

who have familiar voices 

and flicks of colors

but he taught me to see more

 he carted in binoculars, scope and camera.

i had my little red canon.

 a beaver dam

around this were nesting loons 

and some big fish, eating

and occasionally slapping on the surface

showing off fins.

 the loons were calling 

their great calls

paired up 

and one on a nest

 a sundog danced

a blessing on our time together.

 abundance

 abundance

 rich is as close to a brother as i will ever have.

a nephew, seven years younger.

he runs the natural history center in bar harbor, maine.

and has, 

i am amazed to say

my father's hands.

 on our walk back to the car,

the light having changed many times,
settling into day,

the termite mound had become someone's

breakfast.

 later, we celebrated my sister's 70th birthday!

my sister is rich's mom.

another sister made the trek

from florida to the north country.

all to celebrate this special day.

 there we were,

friends,

 relatives.

as close to a brother as i will ever have

someone who knows the earth 

a bit differently than me,

nevertheless, my friend,

giving me the gift of seeing tiny birds close and quiet and 

amazing.

thank you.
and 

happy birthday, claudia!

~~~

it rained a couple of days back 

in the sunshine the raindrops were diamonds 

and a dragonfly lit on my

broken screen

riding out the storm.

so many dragonflies this spring!

~~~

emily martin's fun mail art project

mine is at the bottom, fourth column, 

my purple shifu postcard.
~~~

the black squirrel has found a friend
there were shenanigans at the base of
grandmother maple.
(the black is actually a gray squirrel.)
there may be more
soon.

snow day

wednesday evening sky over the meadow

thursday started out rough

not nearly enough sleep

wendy has some hard nights

and then so do i

 but on thanksgiving

we went out to the meadow

 and played

wendy, melissa, and me

 we gathered up some milkweed

stripped up a bunch while wendy played

can this be called spalted?

it was a glorious time 

before a small meal with just four of us

family and friends

simple food, wine, and conversation

later

we stayed up talking to all hours

melissa and i

and after a wonderful morning of talk and tea and more talk 

she took to the road for cleveland

unfortunately she encountered lake effect snow 

along the way.

which made its way to the north country today

a reminder 

of a bundle of cloth

and one of paper

we prepared and jarred up 

to be opened in a while

back in chicago.

and here in the north country

a gray day, but it looks like winter

has arrived.

weekend images and a message

so, after makng my first run 

of poor (wo)man's asparagus

and struggling with my printer

i hooked up hannah's printer

the same as mine

and it's SO much better.

no mistakes.

sigh.

so if anyone is upset with the less than lovely

printing, let me know, mail it back, and i will replace the text pages. 

 message from ronnie

 hannah's learning to make phase boxes

 jude

 moth

 jude again

i am loving this 

 hannah tutors claudia

in the land of blog

thumb work 

 a full box

i love this 

 from eagle rock school

 snapper queen

 two jars of goodies

 the green, verdigris, worked 

(it's actually much greener)

 hey there lonely boy

 i love the wagon wheel window

 wild sky

and the shifu that fell apart

wonderful paper, that disintegrated.

sigh.

back to a safe paper!

the day-to-day

having two children, even grown up ones, is an affliction. they constantly love you, even when you are down or feeling under the weather. they are constant reminders that you love others fiercely. as i said, an affliction. the other day hannah took a series of photographs of me finishing a stump loom shifu piece. nothing special, just a page for a vellum book. but she was able to get me unposed and occupied, so i didn't make a face. or anything too weird.

my son, ian, is an artist, the kind that draws old buildings, and barns, and odd houses, and makes a weird music on an old pump organ that he calls dirges. ian spoke to me about the blog yesterday, complimenting me on it, remarking on what it evoked in his memory (he's been away for two years) of this old farm. below, the back door. where everyone enters.

we had a little new snow today after the big thaw. the watersheds are coursing everywhere, but the temperature has dropped and now it's returned to january cold. i'm back to health again, and hoping to get some real work done this week. today i started two students in the bookbinding activity (class). as i spoke to them about bone folders, i caught them both stroking their chinese-made  bonefolders with respect. anticipation, as we begin with star books.

this old truck is all that's left of the outside toys. ian's, probably; he adored his tonkas and john deeres into total wreckage. hannah's plastic horses survived in slightly better shape. oh, and the bricks? they came from my chimney, the cleanup after an ice storm that kept us out of the house for three weeks until electricity was returned. the old maple in the front yard fell down on it, saving the house, but not the chimney. imagine, trees and bricks raining down.