powder on the mount

One of the popular courses of discussion at my work, besides food of course, is the weather. That probably goes without saying at many a workplace. Especially with such a snowy winter as we have had. And what I've noticed from these kinds of conversations is that you can immediately detect the skiers and riders from everyone else. They're the ones that, when April 1 rolls around and the weather service puts out a winter storm warning predicting 6-8 inches of snow, are crossing their fingers for powder. Whereas everyone else just gets depressed. I belong to the former group.

So yesterday at work, when the only wet coming from the sky was a cold, damp rain, and some anti-snowy colleagues began to gloat, "I knew that forecast couldn't be true," I found myself slightly annoyed. "I'll show them!" I thought to myself and set my alarm clock for 6:45 a.m. this morning (Saturday). I dragged myself out of bed and called the Stowe line. They had 6" of fresh snow! With Colin on the other side of the world and my snowboarding friends out of town, I packed up my stuff and went to Stowe solo.

I found a quiet untouched corner and had powdery trails all to myself. "Where is everyone?" I wondered. I guessed they were probably back at home cleaning up their yards for spring. Or taking a run in the mud and puddles. Not me though, I was enjoying full-on winter up there.

I took some pics with my phone and texted them to Col. "Pow! Wishing you were here." He was just about to have dinner in Hong Kong. "Having pre dinner drinks overlooking HK," he texted back. (That text'll cost $0.25). I was about to ride a trail that's only open when there's lots of snow, because of all the rocks and drops. First time I tried it was with Col during the epic March snowstorm. Second time was now, by myself. So I sent another pic to prove I was doing it. He wrote back, "Wow... that's unfair! Shred the pow pow!" (Another $0.25, but so worth it: I miss my boy and having that little conversation was the next best thing to having him there with me.)

I wish I could say I stayed there all day, but after a couple of hours I was tired and ready to go home. And by that point, the snow was getting chunky and wet and slow. No, didn't last long, but it was long enough to get outside and enjoy this beautiful paradise we live in.

As I drove back to Burlington, the snow began to recede. It was a totally different world and climate less than an hour away. I walked up to my back door and noticed that the huge pile of snow that had accumulated on top of our garden is almost totally melted. I picked up a couple of stray papers that had blown around onto the yard and underneath one of them I found fresh green 2" shoots sprouting out of the dead chive patch from last year. My chives are up!

Winter at the mount, spring in the valley. I can live with that. It's the best of both worlds.

from scratch: homemade pizza

I'm trying to make more things from scratch. But, you know, I'm such a perfectionist, I've had this mental block with certain things that are out of my comfort zone. Like pizza dough. Active yeast? Scary. But as soon as I tried it a couple of times and experimented with different flours, I started feeling more comfortable with the process. I even found a great recipe from work that you can make in your food processor (even the kneading!). Here's my creation that I made for dinner tonight: homemade dough and fresh spring veggies, including spring garlic from the hot dudes at Jericho Settlers Farm, shitakes from the guy in Colchester, spinach and arugula. Yum!

 

a rickety, but creative, process

During both pregnancies, my sister Emma had her baby bump set in a belly cast as a memento. Hannah painted a scene of an African savanna on the first one.

When Em told me she wanted me to paint the belly cast from Teo, I was at the same time excited and nervous. I didn't want to mess it up. And it's been a reaallllly long time since I've done any painting.

Emi asked if I could do a marine life scene. So at first I thought I might do the same color scheme as Hannah's painting, but instead of silhouette, I would make the water dark and the fishies bright and colorful. So I started with a bright yellow base coat.

Then I painted on the deep blue sea...

I had turned my dining room into a studio. I was getting in the groove again. It felt good.

But then I got stuck. I knew I wanted to do mamas and babies. But suddenly school bus yellow seemed totally wrong for the whales, basking in some sun rays from above. And I wanted to make the dolphins blue too. The palette was turning tonal. "That's okay," I thought. "I'll do a coral reef and tropical fish at the bottom and they be bright and colorful." Colin even started helping me by painting some of the coral reef.

Problem was, I didn't like it. Something didn't feel right, no matter how much I painted and painted, but I couldn't put my finger on it. So I put it away for a while. I sort of forgot about it for a bit, though in the back of my mind, there was a gnawing feeling. Must. finish. that. painting.

Then inspiration manifested itself in the most unexpected place. I was at a dinner party, where my friend Kadina was painting faces. The electric green animal print she painted on my face was super-cool.

Hannah snap a photo on my iPhone and we carried on with our night. But the next day, I looked at it again and suddenly I had the inspiration I needed. I pulled out the belly cast and all of my paints and art supplies and I got to painting. Green, lots of green. I muted the sea turtles. I painted over the fire orange sea horses. I green-tinted the crabs. I even covered up the yellow strips on the angelfish. The last to go was the coral reef. I left just enough coral-colored coral for a little pop.

Now, the only yellow that's left are little specs of the undercoat peeking through the deep blue water. It looks like electrified plankton drifting through the sea.

Dang, that felt good. It's done. I gave it to Em & Kev yesterday. I'm pleased. Here it is.

inspiration: buy local art

It's that time of year again: tax return time. Col and I decided that if we did get any money back this year, no matter what we did with it, we wanted to use at least some of it to buy some art. We've both been pining over a couple of paintings by Greg Mamczak, a Burlington artist who used to share a studio with our friend Isaac. He does these awesomely vivid paintings in his paint-by-number-style that has you looking for hours. So we got in touch and one of the paintings we liked was still available—it's one of his simpler ones from 2006. Greg dropped the painting off yesterday and we were so excited. Not only because we love it and we're adding to the art in our house, but also because we're supporting a local artist. So here is our Untitled 2006. yay!

the radish

It's been a while. So let's ease back into things with something simple. A photo perhaps. Here's one of a watermelon radish I picked up at the farmers' market. I always thought I hated radishes. Maybe it was one bad radish that ruined the lot. Maybe it was because growing up "do you want the radish" meant "you're on thin ice." It was a warning more than it was a root vegetable. Any-who.

Now I've discovered I actually love them and I especially love watermelon radishes, which have a gorgeous hot pink inner core. They're peppery, which makes salt the obvious condiment. (Hannah and Richard got me hooked on this snack.) Here I've sprinkled slices with smoked sea salt that I bought in Kauai last year. It's the last of the lot. This is one bite that makes my mouth water!