Remember this? My art quilt project from over a year ago? Either do I. But this past weekend I spent a lot of time trying to get this thing off the ground. I started with more reverse applique, to increase the visual crop of verbena flowers:

Then I drew some poppy shapes and made a pattern for 2 different sizes of poppy; these will also be reverse applique (eventually, I’ll add real applique):

So here’s how the first poppy turned out:

And here’s a slightly closer-up shot; you can’t see all of the painstaking zig-zag stitch. I’m going to need an awful lot of thread. I figure I need to add about 10 more poppies like this one:

I hope to finish this by the end of the year; more updates soon!

From Port Kirwan, here’s part of the 1 Km road that leads to Clear’s Cove and to the 540 km Newfoundland East Coast Trail;  it wasn’t that long ago that there were no trees here, all the land was cleared.

About halfway to Clear’s Cove, maybe 300 meters north of the road, is the foundation to the house my grandfather, Jim Aylward, built when he was newly married to my grandmother, Mary Ellen O’Neill, and I’d guess it was built a bit before 1920; Pat Aylward showed me the foundation, and it took a small bit of exploration to find it, the new growth of spruce and pine is quite dense and has taken over the ruin, the foundation is on the right-hand side:

I made a few trips to this site, including one trip with Monica O’Brien, Barry Trainor and Monica’s young friend from Labrador, Juliette; here we are holding chunks of slate from the foundation of the house:

In my grandparents’ time, the view of the cove would’ve been unobstructed by any trees.

Here’s Clear’s Cove:

As you hike up the spur of land the juts out to the south-east, and look back to Clear’s Cove, this is the view; the land with the red hay barn belongs to Pat Aylward, and has been in his family for a long time: I imagine that’s what the cleared land in the area used to look like. Apparently, the cod fishery was extremely active in the Clear’s Cove centuries ago, with many people living in this small area:

I apologize for not remembering the name of this bluff that is at the top of Clear’s Cove; everything has a name, but not names that I can easily remember. Isn’t this a terrific view to the north? The Ferryland Lighthouse is also visible here, though it’s not on my photo:

To the south, the view is of the opening of the 2 km long Fermeuse Harbor, home to various coves, nooks and crannies with the local–and long-ago–names such as Trixie’s Cove, Blow-Me-Down, Kingman’s Cove, Riverhead, Northside, Admiral’s Cove (now Port Kirwan) and Clear’s Cove:

One of the highlights of my trip was the view from the top of Clear’s Cove;  this was the view of the vast North Atlantic from my relaxed perspective:

I saw lots of whales from up there–not sure what type, but they were big, humpback perhaps–and seals.

I later met several folks, well into their 70s, who told me how they remembered running around up there and playing in the tidal pools that formed just over the cliff’s edge….which would’ve been excellent fun, for a child, but in these days I just can’t imagine any parent allowing their child the freedom to run around a place where they could possibly fall and be killed.

Later that night I returned to the cove; part of the scheduled events for the Port Kirwan Come Home Year was a bonfire at Clear’s Cove: here are some kids on the beach at twilight getting ready for the fire, which was quite large:

I spent a bit of time at the bonfire, then headed back; and the best music of that night was in front of Pat’s meat-locker, where I first met a lot of the Brophy clan. Here’s me vamping a bit while Tommy and Daisy Brophy sing (lovely harmonies) either a great Irish ballad….or in my opinion a more questionable Jimmy Buffet song; it seems both are equally popular along the southern shore. I will say that Tommy and Daisy made even a dreadful Neil Diamond song sound….really good.

There was a bit of a cold wind that night, hence the fire….built in an old steel and enamel washing machine basket; I’m quite certain I saw the northern lights that night, too.

The BEST part of the musical get-together was this fellow, who’s name I’ve forgotten–I’m sure someone will help me out here–who’s married to….Charlene Brophy….I think I’ve got that right: he sang the Russian National Anthem. In fake Russian.

You would’ve had to have been there. Someone said they were putting it up on Youtube but I can’t find it:

Pat Aylward was clearly enjoying the music….he was up just a few hours later to make a Jigg’s Dinner (here’s one–but not the only!–explanation for how the name came about).

Here he is–does he look like he was up till 3:00AM the night before?–serving up Jigg’s Dinner with Catherine Brophy, the dinner was superb:

Here’s Charlie Brophy and my Aunt Mary:

And after our Jigg’s Dinner here is Mary trying to convince little Patrick about something….and clearly he’s already got his mind made up:

If you look in the background of this photo you’ll see a red tractor; after the Come Home Year was over, Pat cut the hay on his land at Clear’s Cove; here I am in the freshly mowed paddock with little Patrick:

Some of Pat Aylward’s cabbage; his vegetable garden is amazing:

And, finally, towards the end of my stay I went up with Pat to his land above Port Kirwan; this is a truly magical place. You see all those white granite boulders in the background? That’s just one of the many rock piles on the periphery of the property, all of which were cleared from the land to make this beautiful place, truly a labor of love over many generations:

So, it should be clear why I had such a fantastic time in Port Kirwan! I want to thank everyone I met there for their graciousness and hospitality.

I’ve recently received some lovely photos from Ed O’Neill from the Come Home Year; I’ll re-size them shortly and post them soon.

The other day I even calculated the cost of applying for a Canadian residency/work permit ($550 CDN) plus the mandatory medical exam ($560 CDN). Plus a few extra bucks for a criminal background check. That, and no guarantee of a permit after months and months of waiting.

Enough, though, of my wishful thinking…. here are about 10 photos to start with. Get ready to scroll; it should be clear by now that I’d just fail at micro-blogging!

I arrived in Newfoundland at 1:30AM local time on August 4th; I spent my first night in a dump of a hostel, not knowing it was a dump ahead of time (looked good on-line when I booked). When I arrived at the hostel, the odds of finding another bed in the city the day of the Royal St. John’s Regatta were slim: I knew that even as a newcomer. So, I prayed for no bedbugs and then fell asleep for 10 hours.

Later that day I went to the Regatta:

This jumping castle amused me:

Newfoundland 1000 years? I’m guessing this is Viking-related.

Anyway, all that was a pleasant distraction and a way to get oriented after 4 flights and a whole day of travel. The REAL reason I was in Newfoundland was to visit Port Kirwan, known as Admiral’s Cove back in the day of my grandparents: Adrian Fennelly, also headed to the Port Kirwan Come Home Year, arranged ahead of time to pick me up at the hostel in St. John’s (he’s the one who first called it a dump) and take me down the coast. Though it should be said that no-one says “down”, even when you’re going south; no matter where you’re going in Newfoundland, you’re always going “up”. So even though we were going south an hour to Port Kirwan, we were really going “up” the shore.

I should mention that I purchased a Newfoundland dictionary during my trip.

Thanks, Adrian, for the ride!

This is the view from the road right before it goes downhill into the cove where Port Kirwan is located:

And this is by and large Port Kirwan, with the little wharf off to the left:

I was present for–and properly registered to attend–the Port Kirwan Come Home Year: here are all the welcome bags for attendees, each with a brochure with the event calendar and a t-shirt:

On the opening day there was a big Mass, and here are folks outside the church; I stood a bit of a distance away:

The next day there was a regatta; which sadly was a bit forlorn looking due to what I’d call inclement weather but which the locals would likely call summer:

One of the themes of the Come Home Year was “Christmas in the Cove”: many people who used to live there, or who grew up there, can’t come “home” for Christmas but would like to, so, hence, the Christmas-in-August theme, which explains the Santa Claus at the regatta:

There were Mummers, too (which is apparently still a tradition up there) but I missed them…..because what happened, inevitably, was that I stopped attending most of the events because I got very happily wrapped up with my relatives:

That’s me with my lovely Aunt Mary, from Boston, who was born in Port Kirwan 87 years ago and was back for a bit of reunion, and her second-cousin Pat Aylward. I’m not sure what that makes me to Pat: a second cousin once removed? I don’t know. The relationship is distant, but it sure felt like we were from the same family! You can’t see it, but I’m sure we’re each holding a glass of screech:

All activities from that point forward seemed to center between Pat’s house (foreground) and the delightful rental holiday cottage (Ballygall Cottage) his daughter owns (the red one in the background, where I stayed with my Aunt Mary and Evvy); the metal Quonset hut in the middle is Pat’s licensed meat-processing facility:

Here’s a close-up of the exquisite Ballygall Cottage which is just a great vacation rental, I highly recommend it to anyone thinking of a Newfoundland holiday; between here and Pat’s home next door, we spent all hours telling stories and trying to figure out how everyone was related.

Here’s Mary and Evvy one morning behind the cottage, Pat’s cows in the background; at this stage, we’re all drinking tea…no screech…yet.

Part 2 of the Newfoundland Photo Marathon tomorrow; because this is just the beginning! Looking at all these photos makes me want to head back there…soon!

Hard to believe, but it was just yesterday late afternoon I was in St. John’s! I’m very tired from 4 flights home today and running through airports to make connections. And given the speed with which US Customs officials work, believe me, I ran to make my flight.

Above is a snapshot of St. John’s harbor; it’s a general shot so you can see neither the business district or the industrial shipping areas. Or “the bubbler”; which is where lots of the city’s raw sewage enters the harbor.  I was told “you need a shot” if you fall in the harbor. That is encouraging.

This is the narrow entrance to the harbor; I’ve read it’s about 11 meters deep:

And then looking out from the harbor, nothing but the endless North Atlantic; here’s a windswept shot of me and Deanne Aylward, one of the many gracious Aylwards up there you’ll hear more about in the coming days (as I edit my photos!!):

The first time I caught a glimpse of the massive sea past the harbor  entrance I stopped in my tracks. That was my first day in St. John’s. It’s not just because of I’m a desert-dweller; anyone with any sense should be sensibly awe-struck by the raw power of the ocean up there, and it’s influence on human imagination, narratives and commerce.

See you then!!

This morning, to add to my guilt about gutting my beehive yesterday, I found some newly hatched bees in the comb I removed; I took them out and put them by the hive entrance, but I don’t know if they made it in:

Then, for breakfast, some of the figs I picked the other day: yum. A fresh fig is sublime. I’ll give the uneaten ones to my mom before I leave; they can’t go to waste!

I wrapped up the door project the past few days. I have 3 exterior doors; and the one in the back of the house I’ve never been able to use, because it was a bad door. I won’t even post a photo of it because it was that bad. I finally had a pro replace it (same excellent guy who did my windows last winter), and he popped off the security door for me so I could paint it, first with a primer:

Then bright blue….and I was limited by the spray paint blues available, not many; first I used an exterior blue paint I brushed on, and then I tidied it up with a unifying coat of bright blue spray paint….

…to match the color I’d painted the solid door….

…and presto, he came by the other day to pop the steel door back on, and I now finally have a door that I can use. It’s been years. I’ll have to paint those steel bolts blue.

Then I just got the latest Jane Dunnewold book in the mail; I pre-ordered it so my copy is autographed, you can read more about Jane Dunnewold here:

The photos inside are so luscious, here’s a sample–the directions on how to make print-paste:

That got me starting a collage (which I’ll finish when I get back) of prickly pear cactus color copies, which I’ll use to make some laminated paper, a process I posted about a few weeks ago:

Then, to save money, I resurrected my very old (and very old-fashioned) oilskin raincoat I got in New Zealand almost 20 years ago; these things aren’t breathable, but they do keep you dry, and I figure even though it’s summer I should probably bring a rain coat to Newfoundland.

I didn’t realize that oilskin can be “reproofed”; that is, re-waxed, so it stays waterproof. I ordered some DuckBack reproofing wax online and got to work; this is how the coat looked prior to waxing….

…and this is a before and after look, the right side in this photo is the side I’d reproofed. I think you could just use melted paraffin wax for the same effect, but, I wanted a slightly nicer and less petroleum-based smell; DuckBack has lanolin and some other oils.

Now I just have to pack my carry on bag……

Instead, I was horrified to see half of the comb on the bottom of the hive!! Last time I’d checked my hive, a small bit of comb had fallen; but I thought then it was just a small problem. Apparently not.

Here you can see the sad sight, with fresh white comb being built where some of the honey-filled comb was once suspended:

I closed things up and emailed Jaime DeZubeldia, who taught the top bar beehive workshop I attended in April, before taking any action: I felt very depressed at the sight, and figured it was best not to do anything until I had some good information. Jaime was really nice and emailed me back right away with some tips helpful in regard to the unique beekeeping conditions in the sonoran desert.

The point of top bar beekeeping is not to spend lots of money on beekeeping stuff. So, today I scraped out the heap of fallen comb with a kitchen spatula, being very careful not to squash any bees. I then put the comb on some cake racks, so that I could easily tip the rack into the hive and brush the bees inside with a big soft paintbrush (never used for paint); you can see my bread knife in the lower left corner, which also was useful:

I have a small colony; and a docile genetic strain: so, there weren’t enough bees to give me a hard time.  I think this is why I feel a lot more comfortable working with my bees now: there aren’t many of them! I’ve also learned that you just have to go slow, occasionally step back, and it helps to avoid breathing on them. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want someone leering over me and breathing on me. It would make me irritated.

Still, I’d hate to try and pull this stunt will ill-tempered bees.

Above is the saddest sight of the day: earlier in the week, when I opened the hive, I checked the brood-comb area and when I lifted up one of the bars I dislodged this bit of brood comb. So, today, I had to pull it out. I examined it carefully because I was worried the queen might be on it laying eggs. All the flat capped cells were bees-to-be; and in the lower left you can see 6 cells with white blob in them, these are bees in the larval stage, cut short by my meddling.

This is the middle-part of the hive, where the follower board separates the active hive from the inactive part. I moved the follower board closer to the hive entrance, to give the bees less space so they could hopefully keep it cooler more effectively; so whereas I optimistically expanded my hive 6 weeks ago, today I consolidated it. I put paper towels up against the sides, per a suggestion from Jaime, to reduce any warm air cross currents between the hive entrance and gaps in the follower board.  I scrubbed out some of the nectar from the collapsed comb that spilled into this empty chamber to avoid attracting ants. I put some bricks between the top bars and the hive cover when I finally closed up the hive, to give the hive more ventilation.

Here’s the results of my careful comb removal; I was surprised how easy it was to get the bees off of it.

I hope when I come back from my Newfoundland trip I’ll see things in better shape.

I’ll also no doubt post about making beeswax candles, or something of the sort, with the heap of comb above.

Remember this place?

I posted a few times in January about my parents closing their bakery in Sonoita; well, they’ve re-opened as of mid-July. It’s an easy drive from Tucson, just an hour, so get your fresh pastry while you can. Next time they close, I doubt anyone will believe it’s true; they’ll think it’s just another case of the The Little Boy Who Cried….Carbohydrate.

Yum.

For several days after the shaman came I didn’t feel like doing much, though I did some good cooking and for some odd reason had a craving for…..tzadziki sauce.

So, I was compelled to make it; and something to go with it, too. A pretty good recipe for tzadziki sauce is here; I followed it, mostly, though I added fresh mint to mine and substituted dried dill. The steps are pretty simple, you strain some regular yogurt (I prefer full-fat organic) overnight in the fridge; just put a few cups in a coffee filter and set it in a sieve over a cup:

The next morning I took the strained yogurt out of the fridge; it was crazy, there was 1 cup of liquid for 2 cups of yogurt!

Then I peeled and seeded cucumbers my mom gave me from her garden, yum, and pureed them w/garlic; the fresh mint is on the side:

This appears to be the consistency you want for your cucumbers once they’re chopped:

Then I added the yogurt, mint and dill: this is how it looked, in the end:

I have a book from the library which is very good, Quick and Easy Indian Cooking by Madhur Jaffrey. I’m sure the author would prefer that I say I bought it; but, I’m saving for Newfoundland, so, the library is my new friend.

I made a recipe called Ground Turkey or Chicken with Peas; it’s very yummy in pita bread, with homemade tzadziki sauce and chopped fresh tomatoes. It’s a bit cross-cultural but I got 4 dinners out of this:

I then had some fresh apricots that were quickly taking a turn for the worse; I made an apricot upside-down gingerbread cake, the idea and the recipe are sort-of based on this recipe I found online, which I slightly modified (I used less sugar, for example).  Kind of an odd combination of flavors, you’d think; I made it for the nurses at work, and the reviews were good.

I’m getting ready for the Port Kirwan Come Home Year in Newfoundland, which starts on August 5th; that means getting my fiddle in shape, as I hope to share some tunes at the reunion, as well as attend some Irish sessions in St. John’s: there seem to be quite a few each week, no surprise there!

I put new Prim strings on my fiddle, except for the E string, which is a Pirastro Gold E; these aren’t fancy strings, they’re just good value and durable. I finally replaced the worn rubber bits on my Wolf SuperFlexible shoulder rest–above, you can see the new rubber bits on the left and the cruddy ones on the right that are yellow and hard with age. I’ve had that shoulder rest for almost 15 years and LOVE it. No other shoulder rest works for me. And as for the strings…I like the Prims, they’re predictable, stay in tune and don’t give me any grief; and, they sound good and have good response.

I hope to have some good tunes up in Newfoundland; Arizona is a real desert when it comes to Irish music, the one huge drawback of living here.

One day I’ll live somewhere with a fantastic local Irish music community!!