Merrywood

We are just back from a sweet weekend away in the Berkshires. We stayed in Lenox, MA where I once spent several wonderful summers teaching at a small music camp just down the road from Tanglewood. 

I loved it there. Loved the rickety old shingled "cottage" with its numerous sleeping porches, slanting floors, ginormous kitchen and carriage house. As faculty we weren't much older than a lot of the campers. We saw them every day for lessons, trooped into town with them for laundry and pain au chocolat, delighted in their ridiculous pranks, skits and traditions and threw ourselves into music making like there was no tomorrow. It was heaven. Truly. The friendships I made there more than 30 years ago remain some of my closest today.

In the early 1980s the owner of the camp passed away and despite heroic efforts by some to keep it going, Merrywood closed its doors forever. The property soon fell into a state of disrepair and eventually was abandoned all together. 

 I'm so glad I got to pay it a visit. Grateful for the memories.

June

Happy high summer from our little slice of heaven. 

Our morning coffee was accompanied by a serenade raucous bird song and the soft, soulful sound of wind chimes in the breeze. It's gonna be 90 degrees today and we're already conserving our energy.

After suffering through not one, but two severe hard freezes this spring I thought my beloved hydrangeas would keel over and die straight away. They are hardier than I thought. 

 

I'll take whatever I can get!

The oak leaf hydrangea we received as a wedding gift from J&J is another story all together.

 

It seems to thrive through the worst of times. A sweet metaphor of our lives together.

We've been tending to our humble little farmhouse much more this year. The paint's still peeling but the porch is cozy and the galvanized garden is happy. 

It's been a banner year for fireflies. 

 Attempts to capture the nightly fireworks show have failed so far.  
But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying.  

Ah, blissful, sweet summer.

Strawberry Moon

The asparagus is starting to wane and the strawberries are coming on. Welcome Summer Solstice.

If the stars are correct we're in for quite a ride. It is a heady time for us right now and hard to imagine the ride becoming rockier, but we're ready to embrace it for all it's worth.

May this season be a time of clarity. A time to look forward and hold tight to the possibilities in front of us. It's time again to be brave, act with courage and strength of conviction. I'm ready. Welcome Summer Solstice. Welcome Strawberry moon. 

Happy Monday

Hudson Valley

 
We've just returned from the most wonderful weekend away in Rhinebeck, NY at the Country Living Fair. 

I love the Hudson valley and can't wait to get back and really explore. 

The CLF was inspiring and invigorating, and we returned with a head full of ideas for the show we're doing in September. 

The garden was busy while we were away.

And suddenly it's Summer!

We've measured two, three and fours times now and I think we're finally ready to order locust wood for the new raised beds. Next up deciding on a color for the fancy schmancy pergola shade sail and finishing the up-cycled hanging candle light for over the patio table. Hoping to get a final coat of paint on the wardrobe that's taken up residence in the garage later today too. We are chomping through the to-do list.

Progress. We're making it. In the garden, in the house, in the garage. We're getting there slowly, but at least we're getting somewhere. 

It's been a tough slog since we got back from Philly. Truth is, we're still exhausted and incredibly heavyhearted.

And we're waiting. Waiting on new inventory ordered in January and still on back-order. Waiting on the health department to sign off on our building so we can break ground and waiting for our bodies to catch up and recover from February, March and April. 

Meanwhile, it's been the most beautiful, long and luxurious Spring we've seen in a long time. Grateful and content. That's what I choose to be today.