that time again

It's #DrawingAugust time on twitter!

That magical time of year when people try to do some sort of daily markmaking and post the result with the hashtag so everyone can share and enjoy.

It's what got me started drawing, for which I will always be grateful.

I encourage anyone who feels inclined to jump right in -

the atmosphere is most welcoming!

Here are my first four, poorly photographed (I almost always do my markmaking at night, and take the snap with my sketchbook in one hand and camera in the other) but with lots of words to distract you from the quality of the snaps. Let's see if that works.

Day One: ink and watercolor, mug on a knitted coaster.

This is the big mug I used to have tea in every single day until the 13th of July, when I broke the glass insert for my teapot. I haven't made tea since. I am not saying this makes sense. Obviously there are other ways to make tea.

Anyway, this is a very nice handmade mug.

I hope I don't break it.

Day Two: an ink sketch based on a painting by Winslow Homer.

I often draw from photographs, but drawing from someone else's painting is new. I think I'll do more of it. Not attempting to copy paintings, but using them the way I use photographs. But isn't it interesting to see artists who can duplicate work? I vividly remember walking toward a gallery in the Louvre and suddenly getting a whiff of linseed oil. A painter was at work, making a copy. In the Louvre! And I wasn't allowed to take a waterbrush into the Fitchburg Art Museum.

(Maybe it was me?)

Day Three: an ink line drawing, detail of the perimeter fencing.

Today this exact spot on the Upper West Side fence is under a lot of pressure. Yesterday a large limb came down across the fence about 20 feet along, and it's creating tension in both directions. I'm hoping to have someone here with a chainsaw soon to help remove it.

 There is quite a lot of chainsaw work ahead, I am sorry to say.

Yesterday's storm was mighty.

I was very, very fortunate in terms of damage.

But it's hard not to feel sad when big, healthy trees come down.

If I had more land - and therefore more forest - it would be easier to see everything within the bigger picture of forest ecology. I know it, I understand it, I appreciate it. On my own hectare, of course I still see it that way, but I suppose I feel change on a more personal level? I don't know. I just know I do feel sad about the massive oaks that came down in the wooded part of my property.

Day Four: ink and watercolor,

detail of a bronze Tiffany Studios candleholder, c.1905.

Not much to say about this one. I was poking around online looking at Tiffany

desksets the way you do, and came across a pair of these candleholders on an auction site. After the elaborate decoration of the desksets, I found the simplicity of this design visually soothing. What do you think about Tiffany creations? Any favorites?

And that's it so far, for #DrawingAugust 2020.

I hope your Summer is going well.

Here it has been consistently uncomfortable - hot and muggy - nearly every day.

With thunderstorms for drama, followed by more hot and humid.

Piper and I have been spending the majority of our time
reclining on our respective lounges, letting the air conditioner blow breathable air
as directly as possible into our lungs.

It's not a bad life, but it sure doesn't get much done.

~~~~~

rudbeckia returns

For the first time, a rudbeckia plant has survived a winter and reappeared!

This is one of the four rudbeckia plants I ordered from a nursery last year. This year it has already struggled through insect attacks that left many leaves tattered and many petals half-eaten before the blooms had even opened. But, as you can see:

the overall effect is one of Triumph and Beauty!

Each of the four was planted in a different place, in hopes in increasing chances of survival. This one was planted in a small bed right by the gate to the barn paddock. Whenever I walk past, I check to see if there are insidious insects chewing on the flowers, and if so, I knock them off. But this past week, there have been tiny bees working away at pollen collection!

Every morning I've thought, "I must go back for the camera," but by the time I've done even the slightest task - such as turning on the hose and passively watching it fill the goats' water buckets - there is sweat literally dripping from my hair, and my clothes are sticking to my entire body. When I get back into the cooler house, the camera is no longer on my mind.

Until today! Today I chanted "camera, camera, camera," as I walked back to the house. Went in, pulled off the leather gloves that were sticking to my fingers, grabbed the camera and went right back out.

One of the little goat-combing folding chairs was conveniently at hand, as I had used it last night to avoid 20 minutes of leaning while doing barnyard macrame on the lower part of a stock panel. So this morning I pulled that little folding chair right up to the rudbeckia and started making bee portraits.

A nearby patch of bee balm was hosting a group of big furry bumblebees, but the rudbeckia was providing an exclusive pollen party for a number of tiny bees from what I think is the family Halictidae - and that, my friends, is as far as I am willing to go on the bee id's. I started to look into it, but it's a huge family, and I have to save some of my small memory bank for remembering whose hooves need to be trimmed and whether or not I've paid my bills this month.

Besides, no name is needed. I'm happy just to see these amazing little creatures.

And these amazing flowers.

~~~~~

the first salad

`

Cucumber, snow peas, and balsamic dressing.

This week I noticed two tiny Suyo Long cucumbers on the ground, right at the base of the two plants. I harvested them right away, in hopes this will allow the plants to devote more energy to growing up on their trellis - they were slow to start, possibly due to insect damage. There are several flowers on both plants now, and they are beginning to climb. I'm hoping for lots of cucumbers as the summer goes on. These are the only variety I planted this year, and I could happily eat Suyos every day.

 

Snow peas are a new venture for me, and these have been hit with constant very hot weather from the day they germinated. It seemed doubtful they would survive. The plants look very frail and some are already withering, but last week they began producing flowers and pods. So pretty! And tasty. Next year I will plant more, and try to start them earlier. I'd like to have enough to freeze, as they would be quite a delicate treat in the middle of Winter.

A request: do any of you gardeners have a tried-and-true recipe for a plant spray that will protect plants from destructive bugs without harming the good bugs? I've found many online recipes (of course) but there seem to be a lot of "I tried that and it killed all my plants!" stories also. And lots of people don't seem to realize that diatomaceous earth does not discriminate. I grow organically, and generally overplant to try to offset losses due to bugs and other problems, but many of my plants are struggling this year so I've got to try something. If you've had success with a homemade solution, please share in the comments or an email - thank you!

We had a huge downpour yesterday, really a series of downpours, with thunder that shook the house. The rainfall meant I didn't need to water the gardens last night. Thank goodness. I had an appointment in the morning which left me fairly dozy and fizzled out later in the day. In fact I was half asleep when I heard the first roll of thunder and had to hasten outside to get the hay covered just as the raindrops began to fall. Thank goodness again!

Here's to the weekend ahead - 

I hope we all have a good one.

Here's a little Hesperis matronalis to get us off to a good start:

~~~~~

roasters rising

One of my favorite things:

the 2020 Sculpture Garden has begun to create itself.

The Candy Roaster squash plants are just beginning to reach for the trellis.

How are everyone else's doing?

~~~~~

tuesday tints

Moxie would like to draw your attention to one of the new anemones.

She's staying in the background so her flower can have the spotlight.

This Spring I wanted to plant something special in a spot between the barns.

Remembering my wonderful experience with a Japanese anemone purchased on a whim at a local nursery last year, I decided to look for anemone bulbs.

But in a different color.

These anemone bulbs, ordered online, were advertised as "the deepest blue."

Not all the flowers are quite so deeply blue,

and even the darkest ones may gradually turn paler.

But they are all very pretty shades of blue, violet, and lavender.

If anyone knows anything about these plants, please share in the comments! I really didn't know what to expect apart from that "deepest blue" description, as I didn't buy the bulbs from a nursery. It was an experiment, and the plants are probably quite a different variety or even a different species of anemone, Some of the stems on the Japanese anemone of last year were waist-high, and the plant grew into a robust clump. The new ones are smaller - more like 12 inches tall - and less sturdy. I also remember the pink flowers lasting a remarkably long time, while the blue ones are gone in a few days. Of course the weather has been dreadfully hot, which may be a factor. I keep trimming off the spent flowers in hopes of encouraging more growth and blooms. And I'll try to protect the bulbs over the Winter, to return in the Spring.

We'll see!

~~~~~