The Winter That Was

Spring is bustin’ out all over. Indeed, we are less than a week away from the vernal equinox, which in the northern hemisphere occurs at 7:02 A.M. (EDT) on March 20, 2013. The days are longer, the migratory birds are streaming in, the snow is melting back, there is mud everywhere. Still, it might be premature to write off Winter. We often experience a snowstorm or two in March before Winter hands over the reins to Spring.

This winter was notable for the extremes of weather we experienced. Bitterly cold days were followed by record-setting mild spells. Heavy snowfalls were followed by disconcerting melts. And when it snowed, it didn’t let up. It snowed and snowed, and during periods when the temperature was mild, the snow was heavy and wet.

We spent some tiring hours raking snow off the greenhouse-barn cover to reduce the heavy load, and our buildings survived the winter unscathed. Some residents across our region weren’t so lucky. A number of large structures succumbed to the weight of the snow, collapsing under the load.

There were plenty of days that discouraged venturing outdoors, when we could sit, guilt-free by the fire, enjoying a good book. Other household members also enjoyed these fireside hours. Now, we’re all looking forward to a new season of renewal.

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Cranachan for Robert Burns Day

Great Scot! It’s Rabbie Burns Day again. By way of honouring the bard, we had cranachan for dessert. Cranachan is a traditional Scottish dish, usually served in the summer, but in modern times also enjoyed on special occasions such as Burns Day. Recipes vary, but all are very simple.

Toast oats, fine or flaked according to personal preference, in a frying pan or on a baking sheet, until lightly browned.

Whip half a cup or so of whipping cream until stiff. Then whip in a couple of tablespoons each of Scottish malt whiskey and runny honey.

In glasses or parfait dishes, swirl together or layer the oats and the cream along with a half pint of fresh raspberries.

There should be enough Scotch left to raise a glass in a toast to one of Scotland’s favorite sons.

For more on Robert Burns, and an interpretation of his poem To a Mouse, follow this link to last year’s Burns post.

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Wood-splitting Weather

I’ve been neglecting The Chronicles. You might imagine something exciting has taken over my life, but no, I have just been filling my days with mundane chores. With over 1000 posts, The Chronicles have taken on something of a life of their own, with a continuous flow of visitors to older posts. The snapping cold weather we’ve been experiencing makes sitting by the fire with a good book more tempting than blogging.

After a January thaw that reduced our snow cover by half, the mercury has again recoiled to the bottom of the thermometer. We heat our house with a combination of a high-efficiency propane furnace and a wood-burning fireplace. A wood fire is very cozy, but it does require quite a bit of work. A quote, most often attributed to Thoreau, notes that wood warms you twice, once in the cutting and once in the burning.

I have many years of experience with splitting wood and would claim a modest level of proficiency. But my strength is limited. On a mild winter day, large logs defeat my best efforts. Wood splitting is a task that lends itself to cold weather. The colder the day, the easier it is to split a log. On really frosty days, the logs split easily with an effortless rap of the axe. If the temperature drops low enough, I can pretty much split the toughest log in the woodpile! And, as Thoreau noted, the exercise warms you until you return back inside and settle beside the fire with your book.

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A Handmade Christmas

Our Christmas tree is standing near the birdfeeder now, providing a perching spot for birds and a bit of greenery outside the door. We enjoyed a pleasant holiday, with our three daughters all home for Christmas. Of course, sharing time with family is the best part of Christmas, but we also shared some wonderful handmade gifts this year.

Here’s Fiddlegirl with the Willow House sign she made for my garden. Isn’t it perfect? She has become a proficient woodworker. For my December birthday, I was thrilled to receive a Purple Martin House that she constructed.

I’ve been wanting one since Seabrooke told me she could hear martins down by the pond a few years ago. I can’t imagine them turning down such elegant accommodations this spring.

Seabrooke’s imagination and ingenuity shine through in this accent lamp she made.

She also etched this charming kitten design on a wine glass for me.

This family tree, which is now gracing our front hall, was designed and assembled by Ponygirl. Beautiful and unique!

For my part, I completed a couple of crochet and knitting projects, and for Ponygirl and her beau, painted this landscape designed for over their sofa.

Here it is in situ.

Finally, here are Macy and Remy with Ponygirl. At Christmas, like every other day of the year, their presence in our lives is a gift.

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Merry Christmas From Willow House

Merry Christmas from Willow House

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Time in a Bottle

When I was walking behind the barn one day, a glint in the mud caught my eye.  When I leaned over to check it out, I was surprised to find this little bottle.  It must have been buried there for some time, but was still undamaged.  It is about 5 inches tall and has 10 narrow facets.  Its embossed label reads Kendall’s Spavin Treatment For Human Flesh.  On the center of the bottom it reads Made in USA, while letters ringing the bottom read Enosburg Falls Vermont.

Thanks to the wonder of the internet, it was easy to learn more about the bottle and its former contents.

Newspaper advertisement

A number of webpages reproduce the same information about Dr. Kendall and his treatments. This quotation is from J. Kevin Graffagnino of the Vermont Historical Society:

Kendall’s Spavin Cure was the brainchild of Dr. Burney James Kendall, an Enosburg Falls druggist. An 1868 graduate of the University of Vermont Medical School, Kendall devised the spavin cure formula in the early 1870s. After a few years of producing and marketing it himself, he recognized the need for additional capital and wider distribution if the business was to expand.

In 1879 Kendall formed a partnership with Carmi L. Marsh, a relatively well-to-do local farmer. In 1883 they and their two other partners incorporated the Dr. B.J. Kendall Co. In less than a decade what began as a one-man operation in Kendall’s barn had grown into a thriving business with 20 employees.

Two-man teams drove distinctive Kendall wagons from Enosburg as far west as Kansas City and as far south as North Carolina.

By the turn of the century the company was spending more than $75,000 a year just to promote the products that its 40 to 50 employees stirred, blended, ground, mixed and packaged in the Enosburg factory.

Poster c 1895

Bone spavin is now known to be osteoarthritis, or the final phase of degenerative joint disease (DJD), and it seems unlikely that Dr. Kendall’s liniment was very helpful, in spite of claims made for its curative properties. In Kendall’s manual The Doctor at Home, the human version was recommended for a wide range of ills including toothache, warts, weak back and wounds.

I didn’t come across a list of ingredients, but it’s probable that alcohol was a key component, in which case it likely was helpful for toothache and wound cleansing. Opium was also a common patent medicine ingredient. Early bottles were labelled Kendall’s Spavin Cure. However, the Food & Drug Act of 1906 changed the medicine business and forced Dr. Kendall to drop the word “cure” from his advertising.

The B.J. Kendall Co continued to manufacture proprietary medicines at Enosburg Falls at least until World War II. The handsome building that housed the company still stands in Enosburg Falls, but has fallen into disrepair. The Spavin Cure Historical Group was attempting to raise funds to restore the building and founded a radio station to that end, WEVT-LP (98.1 FM).

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First Snow Blanket 2012

I woke up on Monday morning to a blanket of snow glistening in the sun. It took me by surprise, probably because I dozed through the evening weather report the night before. It was also a bit surprising because, up until the weekend, we had been enjoying a stretch of beautiful mild days, Indian Summer.

The corgis were quite delighted with the change in the landscape, and set about galloping to and fro. Remy and Pookie (whose name has been officially upgraded to the less sissified Macy) are the grandogs, visiting for the week. They’re sturdy little dogs, really more big dogs on short legs, and their thick coats keep them warm regardless of how cold the weather is.

We went down to the barn together to feed the horses. Well, me and Remy went down to the barn. Pookie takes a dim view of these large creatures and prefers to wait at the house. Teddy was glad to see us. Like any strapping young fellow, he loves his food and if patient waiting fails to bring me, he calls to me in his mournful donkey voice, “I’m hungry! Come feed me!”

Older and more rotund, Louis isn’t as concerned about breakfast but once it arrives, he joins the others.

Here’s Czarina, with the morning sun lighting up the red highlights in her chestnut coat.

Once the horses were fed, the dogs and I took a little stroll down the laneway. Just on Sunday, the snowplowing contractor stopped by to mount orange marker posts along the roadway. I don’t know if he is paid by the job or by the season. If the former, I imagine he is hoping for a snowy winter. I’m hoping for enough snow to protect my garden from temperature shifts.

Here’s the cornfield nest door, looking like a choppy sea of white waves. The sun felt warm and the air was still and quiet, but the thermometer read -5 C and the snow didn’t melt away.

And here’s the car. Winter means snowbrushes and ice scrapers for northern drivers but this little dusting of snow was easily brushed away. Hopefully, it will be a few weeks before we have anything more bothersome to contend with.

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First Ice 2012

What a beautiful morning. It didn’t feel very cold when I went out to feed the horses, but I noticed that the puddle of water in the bird bath had frozen solid.

I had to stop to admire the plumes of the giant miscanthus (Miscanthus giganteus), sparkling in the sun, as I walked through the garden and down to the barn.

Yes, the horses’ water tub had a thin layer of ice, too. This is bad news. It’s more of a nuisance to keep water on hand for them once things start freezing.

The tall grasses appeared frost-free, but the little plants hidden in their shade were decorated with crystals. The true test for first ice would be the pond. If there was ice on the big pond, then it was officially the first ice day of the season.

Sure enough, when I reached the pond perimeter, there it was, glistening across the surface, ice. I was surprised at the extent of the coverage, not just a crisp border edging the pond, but a broad sheet.

No wonder they’re playing Christmas carols in the stores. Winter is on its way.

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Rochester’s Mount Hope Cemetery

Not every town has a cemetery that is written up in guide books such as Fodor’s. A few come to mind, the most famous being Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, where Jim Morrison, American singer and songwriter with The Doors, (amongst others) draws many visitors. Another, closer to home, is Rochester’s Mount Hope cemetery. Dedicated in 1838, it is America’s first municipal cemetery.

We stopped by the cemetery for an abbreviated visit one sunny morning when we were in Rochester, New York, this summer. This little map is mounted near the entrance, and the Friends of Mount Hope Cemetery offer tours. We weren’t there on the appropriate evening, however. A visitor’s guide is also said to be available at the cemetery office, but we didn’t have time for a long visit, so didn’t check.

The original Gothic Revival Chapel, with an underground holding vault, was built in 1863. The crematory was a later addition. Both are now out of use.

The 196 acre cemetery is in part sited on an eskar, an outcropping of land left behind by a retreating glacier thousands of years ago. Some mausoleums are set right into the hillside and gravestones climb the slopes.

Mount Hope is the permanent resting place of over 350,000 people and has an annual growth rate of about 500 burials per year. The first to be interred at Mount Hope was William Carter, who was buried on Aug. 18th, 1838. However, 4-year-old Samuel Miller, who died on the day of the dedication ceremony in October of that year, became the first official burial after the consecration of the new cemetery.

Famous residents include suffragist Susan B. Anthony (1820-1906) and abolitionist Frederick Douglass (1817-1895).

The memorial above commemorates Dr. Hartwell Carver (1789-1875). Carver was an early promoter of what would become the transcontinental railway. He participated in the hammering of the Golden Spike that officially joined the Central Pacific and Union Pacific railroads on May 10, 1869 at Promontory, Utah. His memorial was erected by the Union Pacific Railroad.

There are many interesting sculptures throughout the cemetery.

I especially liked this bas-relief grieving angel.

And the clean lines of this fine art-nouveau figure.

Some of the most touching monuments aren’t grand at all, such as this little stone, simply engraved Our Twin Boys.

Or this stone, remembering My Lottie.

May they all rest in peace.

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One Thousand

I posted my very first entry on my newly created blog, Willow House Chronicles, on February 4, 2009. When I started the blog, the goal I set for myself was to post one entry a day for an entire year. I had no shortage of subject matter at hand. As we had recently moved from the Toronto area to a home in Eastern Ontario, there were plenty of new sights waiting to be explored. I easily met my first target of 365 posts and continued to make regular entries thereafter.

Today’s entry marks a significant milestone, my one-thousandth post. In recent times, I haven’t posted so regularly as in that first year. Still, one thousand posts. That’s a lot of writing.

The Chronicles form an interesting record of our early years in our new location. It’s fun to look back over old posts and consider what has changed and what has remained the same. The house itself has changed quite a bit in its outward appearance, with a new roof and a new colour scheme. The overgrown gardens have largely been reclaimed and have even been expanded.

I’ve enjoyed meeting other bloggers and visitors who have dropped by and left comments, always appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has helped to make the writing of Willow House Chronicles a rewarding experience.

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