Spotted at the Jeffersonville firehouse. I wonder, why so many?
Unfortunately, there is no sense of scale to this photograph. Take my word for the fact that the wood pile stands at least as tall as myself. If not more. It’s a beautiful site to behold as one moves up the driveway to our house. And, even though this is a familiar form, it’s uncommon for the wood-stackers among us to deviate from tradition. My husband — sometimes a quiet renegade — is responsible for this totem to his hand split logs.
The other day I caught my husband looking through the photos on his phone. Peering over his shoulder, I saw these two. They were taken upstate a couple of weekends ago. It was very very hot that Saturday, but then the clouds and storms rolled in to cool things off.
For a lot of people across the country, Walmart is pretty much the only gig in town. And, if you’re in a rural area and happen to need kraft paper and packing tape at 7:30 in the morning, it’s almost certainly the case. I try to avoid shopping there, but sometimes it seems unavoidable. This is how I ended up at the local Superstore last week. Since it was so early, I was almost entirely alone. After I found what I was looking for (if you’ve been to a Walmart, you know this is an aberration) I decided to wander around and look at what’s on offer. I don’t like what these stores have done to the retail and manufacturing world, not to mention the consumer habits they have perpetuated. But instead of just bitching about them and their practices, I thought I should see for myself. I wandered into the sporting goods area. After getting over my recurring surprise at the guns and ammunition on display (at least they no longer sell handguns in the lower 48), I found my way into the fishing aisle. Since I know virtually nothing about fishing lures or bait, it all looked good to me. With all the hundreds of different shapes, patterns and colors, I had a fleeting moment of appreciation. They’re nice, aren’t they?
Sal, the proprietor of the Tin Can Trading Post in Callicoon, has a quirky and eclectic eye. One that I enjoy immensely! His tastes run the gamut from a spectacular woven civil war coffin, to a 1970s Soviet plastic Anna doll and everything in between. The shop isn’t curated in any obvious way, so the experience of discovery is all your own. Not many places still see the merit in NOT polishing and cleaning every item. I ran into him earlier today and agreed to stop by. I actually avoid going into the store because I have little to no willpower. Anyway, as soon as I crossed the threshold, I saw these spools of twine hiding in a bin near the floor. I ignored them for a moment, not wanting to get distracted. But I caved. It’s the red tape that got me. For earlier bits and pieces from the Tin Can Trading Post, see here, here (the plaster letters) and here. Oh, and I totally forgot…here.
Who in their right mind doesn’t love a bundt cake, much less a bundt pan? It’s that “dt” at the end that makes it all so satisfying. This pan was found at Bought and Sold, a seductive little antique shop (a branch of Lee Hartwell Antiques) in Callicoon, NY. The patina on this piece is more gray-black than what appears in the photo. It has a fragile quality about it that is irresistible.
Here’s a little peek into my new studio — the reading corner. I finally set up some bookshelves, as well as a chair and a lamp that I kidnapped from our place in Brooklyn. I hooked up an old stereo and, truly, I could not be happier!! It’s going to take awhile for all this to sink in.