More Upstate Moments

This was a super sweet lady across the road who had a yard sale every weekend the last month I was upstate. I went and checked it out a few times, but I came back at the very end to see her quilts. I didn't end up buying any of them, which I felt bad about because she opened up her little guest house full of quilts just more me, as I got there after the sale was already over (I think we'd just come back from apple picking) but none of them quite spoke to me. They were all very impressive though. 

I liked sitting in the yard reading the Mary Oliver book I got in one of the towns. It's a big ol' anthology and it's all about nature, her poems are all nature-y. I wish I had gotten into the habit of doing it every morning. 

Goldenrod I was drying for dying hanging from the attic latch. I left it there in the end. 

Andrea's ceramic pyramid. I brought it up on the dash, I brought it down on the dash. So careful all the way around New York, and god knows where it is now... honestly now sure where I put it. I really liked it as a talisman for moving though. A delicate icon for migration. 
 

C'est Moi

This is also from upstate times. I haven't bathed in light like this in months. I really miss working in the fresh air without a mask on; we just had a COVID scare at work (we're all fine) but now we've switched to everyone wearing KN95 masks and they really press down on my nose, and shoot air at my eyes and dry them out, and pull at the back on my ears. I hate wearing them, but it's what must be done. A few weeks back the virus mutated and now the new English version is super catchable. I've been walking down the street with my mask down when I don't see anyone for awhile, but I've seen recommendations to not even pull that shit, so I'm NOT looking forward to ever leaving the house ever again. 

Anyways, I love these photos. I've been super anxious lately and have been eating, eating, eating, gaining, gaining, gaining weight. I feel truly ugly, so it's nice to see a version of myself that doesn't feel like a horrible monster cupcake. 

 

The Upstate Studio

 

The Camper and the Apple Farm

This is from months ago at the end of my time upstate. Adriene's parents Alan and Cindy drove up in this RV that Alan restored, they stayed in front of the house for a few days. Conor came up at the same time, so we returned the rental and used his jeep and the RV to get around. It was so nice having more people around, we went out for dinner a few times, (to a place with a blue lives matter flag on the wall- I didn't see it till I looked up at the waiter to order... ) and they went for some hikes, we made fires, s'mores, went back to the amazing meat shop and got some steaks.

 Also we fulfilled my desire to go apple picking. Cindy, Conor, and Adriene were so good about picking one apple here, another apple there. Alan and I though- whoo baby!- by the end our bags were giving us a workout! I also got some black beeswax candles and some beautiful German (?? my memory is faulty here) plums. The apples lasted for ages, and about a month, two months later I turned them into delicious apple sauce back in Brooklyn in my Dutch Oven. 

 

Perfect Morning ( a draft from last year)

Oh god, it is a perfect morning. The air is cool, but not cold, even when the breeze comes. The light is beautiful and yellow, but not bright. The tree that has been turning red does not disappoint. Nothing has shocked into autumn overnight, but instead there is one tree (I wish I knew the names of trees) leading the charge- no not the charge, the amble - and he has been slowly changing the tips of his fingers a pleasing russet for the past few weeks. He is highlighted with the hope of fall. 

I have hiccups. I have had three sips of coffee only, and here, hello, the hiccups. The chair I'm sitting in has been cleared of dew but for the arm rests and the bottom edge of the lounge part, where I've tucked my heels. 

Something I've enjoyed about living here is the barefootedness of the yard. The grass is long and soft and I like to patter out, shoeless, and wiggle my toes in the dewy lawn. Or at the fire, I like to pick up pieces of ashy wood with my toes and throw them in with surprising accuracy. 

We're applying for an apartment. Surprisingly, financially I am the best candidate on paper. Employed for the last 4 years consistently. But my credit is rotten. Oh I've fucked myself properly. But one thing at a time. 

I wish I didn't have to shower everyday. The whole production.

Lake Colgate

 

And Now For Something Pleasant

 This blog has been just sad sad sad, bleh blah blugh. I'm feeling alright lately, maybe I should take note of it. I'm sitting on a little porch in Haines Falls, NY, with cold feet in little pom pommed slippers looking out on a sun drenched field of tall grass, recently sprouted into yellow flowers. The trees are turning red at the tips, the mountain is a bed of trees, the land is fertile and green green green. All sorts of green. I didn't realize I was hungry until my eyes feasted upon all this green. 

We have a little white rental car, as I have (haha! this is old news!) fucked up again, and my car is legally not allowed to be driven till June. Now all I have to do is keep Michele in my good graces until then, as my car is parked on her property. It's incredibly kind, and I don't think I'll stop being stressed about it until I'm able to drive it away. How does one repay such a favor? I will try and figure out a way. 

I have been collecting acorns, tens and tens of them, in handfuls every time I walk up and down the path from the studio to Michele's house. There are quite a few oak trees and they're dropping seeds everyday, so I put them in my pockets, and now I have maybe two bucket fulls. I want to make an acorn dye out of them, dye some linen (or wool? cotton?) and make a dress. It comes out brown or grey, depending on if you make an iron bath for them, and I think I want grey. A beautiful grey dress, to wear with grey braids? Also, I just found out I can make an ink from them too. Very exciting to forage, I love spotting a fresh green acorn that's just bounced across the lawn, crouching to put it in my pocket, and then seeing more. grab grab grab, I am the queen of squirrels.

 

I saw Raph last night, he stopped by on his way from the Adirondacks with Manny and Caitlyn on his way to Ohio (cay-ah-ho-ga, I don't know how to spell it) to camp before heading home. The boy is a wanderer, his soul fidgets, he always has to be moving, learning, doing something. I envy it a bit, my soul is sedentary, but it has longing eyes. My soul is always looking at the things it could be doing, and then it sighs and says, "ah, maybe later".  Raph is the first person I've hugged that wasn't Adriene, Nicole or Stuart in months and months and months. I was so aware that I was breaking a rule, doing an illegal hug, that I didn't appreciate it. I miss embraces. Adriene is my closest friend but she eschews physical contact, doesn't like it, doesn't need it, whereas I crave it so, so much. Conor is in my group of people, so are the Quan-Fisher family, but I can't hug any of them. I don't even wish I could, I simply do not want to hug any of them. The older I get, the more removed I get from the sensual world. Sensual as in sensation I mean. When I was younger, touch was common, touch touch, hug, hold, lean, grab, it was comforting and normal. Now it is reserved for partners. Ah, I miss a hug. 

Last night I made pasta with sausages (locally made) and pesto (made by Conor's mom Beth) and wild mushrooms (local, not foraged by me) (can you imagine? I'd be panicked for days thinking I'd poisoned myself) and Brussels sprouts (local?) with bacon (local). Simple simple, and delicious. We sat by a fire Adriene made and after we'd all eaten I made myself sick on S'mores. I have some sort of allergy out here, and last night it was running rampant on my face, fucking tap dancing in my sinuses. We watched an episode of The 100 and I nearly fell asleep, so wiped out I was. 

I woke at 6 this morning, to an alarm that sounded like a doorbell. It really confused me. I set it for 6 because sunrise was at 6:30 and I wanted to drive to Michele's to pick up some work of mine, but to not alert anyone to my presence with headlights. You can hear everything in the country. All the cars on the road, all the birds in the trees. The acorns dropping are so loud I can hear them through my noise cancelling headphones. 

Okay, I think I'll shower and make food. 

Yours, happily, finally,

-T