more talent than a handful of barons

a friend of the baron has recently started her own blog, meant to chronicle the comings and goings of her sewing life. and reader, don't expect her to write there about her recent kitchen renovation or new haircut... no! stitchworks is for sewing-related writings and ONLY sewing-related writings. other aspects of her rich life won't be shared there.

but, do not despair reader, because it turns out that this friend of the baron's has quite a lot to say on the subject of sewing. she claims to be a sewing novice, but the baron rather thinks she's lying about that... just see today's stitchworks post.

viva la hand sewing!

a sad day, a proactive day

this august, as every august, dexter, harlan and tucker come up due for their yearly check-ups. last saturday morning, the baron took harlan and tucker for their joint appointment ('joint' because harlan and tucker are two affable dogs, unlikely to start a waiting room tussle; dexter and baron, being ms. nervous barker and mr. irascible, always get their very own appointments).

tucker, it turns out, is in excellent health: the right weight, good strong teeth, sweetly mannered and heartworm free.

harlan, it turns out, is also in excellent health, for all the same reasons.

but.

harlan's age is difficult to judge, since the baron and the husband collected him off the phoenix streets and at that time he was clearly an adult dog, estimated to be aged 4 or 5 by their vet. now, some 4 years later, he's still spry like a puppy, but the baron has noticed the greying of harlan's muzzle. it seems to her that every day she finds one more grey whisker or white eyebrow hair. and, reader, this saddens her. deeply saddens her.

but.

at the vet's office, the baron decided that sadness would not rule the day! rather, 'proactive' would be the word of the day! so, she asked the veterinarian when she and the husband might switch harlan from regular dog food to a senior diet. the vet smiled and nodded in the affirmative, saying, 'now is a good time.' and, for good measure, the baron asked about baron too - who is 8 years old this year, and also has a grey muzzle - and the vet nodded in affirmation again.

so.

harlan and baron are, as of sunday, slowly moving from their siblings' diet to a more senior-friendly one. according to the veterinarian, the difference between the two foods is calorie content, protein content, and fiber content. so far, so good - and, since the new dog food is made of chicken, neither the baron nor the husband thought the black dogs would complain anyway.

but can you play basketball?

this weekend, the baron finished her re-watching of 'veronica mars', season 2, and moved on to season 3. she was three or four episodes in - an episode where wallace is having a hard time balancing his mechanical engineering schoolwork with his intense basketball schedule - when she recognized someone on the screen. not one of the series regulars... not wallace, or the guy who plays the coach, or the guy who plays wallace's best pal on the team... someone else.

reader, she recognized someone from her own life, someone she's written about before... the brother!

it had quite escaped her memory that the brother played an extra on 'veronica mars' during season 3. any basketball-centered episode, you can bet he's there in the background. he's even in some of season 3's cafeteria scenes, but it's hard to pick him out.

anyhoo, the baron recommends that, should you be watching the third season of 'veronica mars', you be on the lookout for number 14.

and, if you were wondering... no, he can't really play basketball.

penguin, by ryan

the husband works with a woman - a petite, southern woman with a knack for fashion and interior design. this woman's boyfriend is, occasionally, an artist; evidence of his talent is displayed on the walls of their two story row house. (it's worth noting that the boyfriend is a renaissance man: he tells a good story, can cook, plays drums, and - along with the woman - is renovating their row house. what the baron likes most about him is that he humors the husband.)

the baron and the husband, impressed by his artwork, asked that he paint something for them. the resulting painting, 'penguin', is above. charming, isn't it? 'penguin' will shortly be framed, then will take up residence in the baron's dining room.

spoon

recently, the baron has been watching - rewatching, really - 'veronica mars', a short-lived, mostly pretty good television show that ran from 2004-2007. it was about a girl, a high school girl, a teenager who was shaggy, velma, fred, and daphne all rolled into one - smart, and funny, and pretty, and kind of cutting, and did the baron mention that there were mysteries involved? murder, stolen dogs, muggings, winter carnivals, homecoming... the stuff of life, people!

the baron has made it to season 2, and just last night watched the episode where logan and weevil ask veronica to record the comings and goings of a catholic church confessional - so sophisticated for high school, right? anyway, that's also the episode where spoon's britt daniels shows up to karaoke, singing costello's 'veronica'. the baron is a great fan of elvis costello, and would name 'veronica' as one of the most sing-able songs out there, and the baron loves britt daniels... so, britt daniels on 'veronica mars' singing elvis costello was pretty much the highlight of her week.

anyway, all that to say this: spoon's tragically named 'ga ga ga ga ga' has been playing in the baron's car on a loop for the last two weeks. reader, it's a good cd. not as good as 'kill the mooonlight', maybe, but a keeper nonetheless. there are two lines of lyric that she can't escape, two lines that pop into her head at random times of the day, and everytime these two lines of lyric come through her car speakers sung by britt daniels, she's startled. what do these two lines of lyric mean? reader, it sings like an epiphany:

it can't all be wedding cake
it can't all be boiled away

the peaches that weren't

the baron and the husband have pretty substantial gardens at their home - both ornamental and functional. the baron particularly loves the fruit and vegetable plants - her philosophy is that, if she's taken the time to grow it, it should feed her. sweat equity and all that, you know?

anyhoo, it turns out the baron wasn't the only one awaiting the summer harvest... see the peach pits, picked so clean, above. the baron's best guess is that the squirrels (or 'greedy bastards', as she's taken to calling them) stripped the peach tree of its fruit (some 75 peaches!), even though that fruit was not yet ripe. the nectarine tree? also free of fruit. the plum tree, the apple trees? ditto.

now the squirrels, having denuded the fruit trees, have moved on to the tomato plants. with alarming frequency, the baron is finding half eaten pear tomatoes, still green, or golf ball sized silver fir tree tomatoes scattered about the yard. the baron wanted those tomatoes for herself, doused in olive oil and white balsamic vinegar, with chunks of white cheddar cheese!

yes, reader, she is angry.

damn those squirrels!

this must be love

today the baron is thinking about the short trip from "you didn't get the dog food?" to "get your damn priorities straight or i'll leave you and you'll be all alone with that blackberry!"

and, maybe by way of apology, here is a word for word transcription of a message from the baron's phone, from the husband:

I still love you even though you hate me. Jerk. Call you when I land.

one more for the memories

the baron wishes she were in this photo right now. don't you too?

july 4, 2008 - very late in the day

after their dusky walk, the three of them made their way back to chamlar, and let me tell you reader - schroon lake was PACKED with people. the baron wondered aloud from whence these people came? the husband claimed that they traveled to schroon lake from the neighboring lakeside communities to see the town's kick-ass fireworks show. he seemed to be right: the small public beach, the best spot for fireworks-viewing, was crowded right up to the water and far, far up onto the lawn. the baron and the husband decided that the fireworks would be better experienced from chamlar's dock: the quietude afforded them there would more than compensate for the treetops that might obscure a some portion of the show.

once back to chamlar's beach, the husband and tucker made for the dock, and the baron made for the husband's cousin rob, who planned to view the fireworks from the lake, and had taken a small rowboat out to that end. rob asked the baron to join him, and the baron - having never been in a rowboat, having never seen fireworks from a lake - was happy for the invitation. rob, being good company and a gentleman to boot, smoked his bowl downwind from her. they talked about politics, bat sonar, and the divine and beautiful nature of sparkling lights in the sky.

later, much later, after the town-sponsored fireworks, the husband's family began to collect on the beach for the nightly bonfire. this night, a date of some importance (that importance being related to the tacit permission granted by adults to young adults to purchase and discharge fireworks), brought everyone out. as they gathered around the bonfire, those among them who had fireworks moved away from the larger group and began lighting their booty, or firing them, or shooting them... whatever one does to make a firework go, they did.


it was far less grand than the show held on the public beach. the lights didn't flare as high or as far or as brightly as the fireworks sent up by the town. but the baron, close to the fire and watching the yellow and orange light dance over not-her-family's faces, felt happy. between the heat from the fire and the enthusiasm of the boys and men gathered around the fireworks, the baron wondered why all family togetherness couldn't be this way: excited and silly, joyous and warm.

tucker plainly felt this contentment too, for the noise of the bonfire and fireworks, the voices of parents and children did not disturb him. he had stretched out in the sand at the husband's feet, asleep after a long and very good day.

july 4, the waking hours

eventually, the other cabins began to show signs of life: the baron and the husband caught the scent of freshly brewed coffee and heard murmured conversation across the wide, wide lawn. the three of them visited the husband's parents cabin, bummed some coffee off of them, then made their way down to the water. it was tucker's first time at a beach, and he was first tentative but was eventually cajoled into the water.

july 4 made good on its promise of sunshine, so the baron spent a fair part of the late morning/early afternoon splayed out on a towel on the lawn or reading her book in an adirondack chair (the baron loves to sun herself, and her concession to age and weight was a one piece bathing suit). tucker and the husband visited her occasionally, but spent most of their time wandering around the property, mingling with the children or playing in the waves. by early afternoon, the baron was ready for a change of scenery. tucker was, by this time, so comfortable with the water that he joined her at the end of the dock:


the afternoon passed quickly, and soon the baron retreated to the cabin to make dinner for the husband - being among the only vegetarians in the family, the baron and the husband made all their own meals (which, the baron will tell you, provided ample excuse for them to avoid mealtimes where everyone was present: vegetarianism, right for so many reasons). after cooking and eating, they made their way to the road where - as schroon lake tradition dictates, the annual july 4th parade was set to begin.

the parade is as you, reader, might expect - a small town affair - though the highlights included an army of chevettes (each with its own unique decorations, including one that had a tree truck attached to the chevette's roof) and a juggler riding a unicycle. lowlights included a group of young men and women, riding on a flatbed truck, dressed in tuxedos and gowns styled circa 1985 and wearing vacant smiles. high weirdness.

after the parade, everyone retreated to their various cabins to prepare for the night's activities: fireworks on the public beach. the baron, the husband, and tucker decided to cap their daylight hours off the same way they started them, with a walk around the town.

july 4, 2008, in the morning

the baron and the husband (and everyone else) stayed at the husband's uncle's property, a lakeside pseudo-resort ('pseudo' because you have to bring your own bedding and groceries - there's no room service there - but in terms of a getaway, you'd be hard pressed to find a more beautiful and picturesque place than schroon lake). the dawn on july 4 broke shiny and bright, promising a sunny day ahead. see chamlar in the morning, above.

the baron, the husband, and tucker started their independence day off with a walk around town, an enterprise that took all of 20 minutes. they passed the grocery store, stewart's ice cream shop/gas station/convenience store, and a number of small restaurants, cafes, and antique shops that had recently sprung up on the town's main drag. some photos from their walk...


evidently they weren't the only ones out for a stroll that morning.

the husband and tucker paused for a photo.

the three returned to their cabin in search of breakfast and coffee, wondering when the other cabins' occupants would begin to stir. it turned out no one else got up for a long while, which was fine by them: for the moment, july 4 was theirs alone.

july 3, 2008

recently, the baron and the husband traveled to upstate new york, to a town called schroon lake. the husband's entire (and very large) family meets there, on a yearly-ish basis, for the fourth of july. the husband's family typically goes for an entire week, though this year - as they had BOTH had recently started new jobs - the baron and the husband received special dispensation to shorten their time at schroon lake; they would only be there for three days. the husband's siblings bring their children, so the baron and the husband decided to bring one of theirs, too. it would be tucker bear's first time to a lake, his first time to new york, and his first time on vacation with mom and dad where he didn't have to share them with his brothers and sister. one of the best things about tucker is that he thinks everything is a potential adventure. in the photo below, tucker is in the cab of the husband's truck, waiting for the fun to happen.


the drive to schroon lake takes between 8-9 hours, so the husband and the baron spent most of july 3 driving. they left rather early in the morning (as evidenced by the husband, below, getting his coffee on) and aimed to be to the lake by 2 o'clock that afternoon.



the baron, distracted, took a self-portrait somewhere along the way.

the baron, the husband and tucker arrived to the lake in the early afternoon, paid homage to their hosts (and owners of the lake front property) and set to unpacking. soon after, they found the husband's parents and had drinks in hand. it wasn't too long after that - the handing around of wine - that the baron and the husband got an earful about the tensions of the week. this - the relating of the week's stories (including one about someone not saying hello to someone else in a timely enough manner, a broken toilet and a newly dug trench for pipes), punctuated with heavy sighs and pregnant pauses meant to indicate a (perceived or real) slight - sent the baron back to her cabin in search of something stronger than wine.

(the baron will take a moment here to say this: her family is 3 people. three. her mother, her brother, and herself. they used to be four, but then her father died, and her nuclear unit reshaped itself as 3. they are quiet - not timid, but not raucous either. they don't talk over each other, and anyway, even if they do, there's just 3 of them and 3 voices are not that hard to parse out from each other. at the house of the baron's mother, there isn't much in the way of simmering, decades-old tensions; being just 3, they've put those past misdeeds mostly behind them. at the husband's house, maybe because there's just so many of them (the husband has 5 siblings and 2 parents), sides are easily taken, lines are easily drawn in the sand, and just when something begins to scab over, some sibling will inevitably draw blood all over again. for the baron, integrating herself into the husband's family has been - and still is - kind of hard.)

the husband soon joined her in their cabin and made the baron's recent favorite drink - a bloody mary. the baron nursed her drink while she and the husband unpacked a little more, mixed with other members of his family, delighted in tucker (who was himself delighting in both the attention of children and the expanse of yard) and soaked in the beauty of the place. shortly, the husband and one of his brothers-in-law decided to head to the grocery store, leaving the baron alone in the cabin with tucker and a refreshed drink. in hindsight, perhaps this second bloody mary was a bad idea.

not too long after the husband's departure, the baron decided to make friendly with her in-laws, so she took her drink back to the husband's parents' cabin. she cannot remember what all was said, who was there, or if she participated at all - she has a feeling she was mostly sitting in the corner, chiming in when necessary, and trying to appear 'slightly', as opposed to 'very', drunk. ahem. when she saw the husband return with groceries, the baron and tucker excused themselves and headed for their cabin. her drink was gone. ahem. she found the husband and the groceries and said, "i don't feel good."

it was by this time 5 or 6 o'clock in the evening; the husband put the baron to bed and made her excuses to his family. she slept, though not restfully, and occasionally the husband would come in to check on her and to report on the evening's activities. at his 9 o'clock visit, the baron asked for the trash can, which was thankfully lined, and threw up two bloody marys, guacamole, and some corn chips into it. amazingly, after purging herself of the excess vodka, the baron felt much improved - so improved, in fact, that she joined everyone at the beach for the night's bonfire.

it was an adventure indeed.

king of the world

when the baron and the husband moved into their house, two-ish years ago, they had a number of trees removed... and by 'a number' the baron means, like, 20. some of them were diseased, some leaned precariously close to the house, some were saplings that no one had bothered to cut back... all the healthy, old growth ones that could be saved, were saved. (also, to quiet their guilt, the baron and the husband, the spring following the great tree massacre of '06, planted 6 fruit trees and a number of other shrubberies... they're trying, ok?)

some of the stumps - for the saplings, mostly - could be dug out, but some of the larger ones could not, which means they'll have to be ground out by a tree service. this has not happened yet.

when they do address the remaining stumps, they might just leave the one in the photo above intact, since harlan has taken it as his de facto throne, a mighty seat from which he observes the comings and goings of the yard, occasionally stepping down to catch and kill a small bird or rodent. though you, reader, can't see it here, harlan wears a very small pinky ring - gold braid set with a large ruby - and sometimes tucker lines up to kiss it. really.

a new mac is coming! in 5-7 days.

welcome back everyone! the baron is thrilled to be back from vacation - though she could use a vacation after that vacation. the baron and the husband took lots and lots of photos, and there are lots and lots of stories to tell (well. lots and lots = at least one post's worth), but they won't be up until later this week or early next week.

why, you ask? we, the readers, are dying to know about the baron's vacation!

well, the baron and the husband are having some, ahem, technical difficulties that amount to not enough space on their laptop or their external hard drive, which means that the photos can't be uploaded. which means that the baron would have no photos to illustrate her stories... and let's face it, readers, the baron is only entertaining when there are pictures to distract from the slow parts. so, please bear with her - and don't worry, she'll recount for you all the adventures they had at schroon lake. there were fireworks! faulty plumbing! a bloody mary regurgitated into a trash can! chevettes, dogs, ponys and goats! oh, just you wait.

in the meantime, see the husband. he can't get enough of those glasses.