Beautiful Buttermilk

Mary and I recently had the pleasure of visiting Buttermilk Falls, just outside of Ithaca, NY.  Excuse me, I misspeak.  Due to the drought conditions in Upstate NY, we had the pleasure of visiting Buttermilk Damp Rocks.  The falls were reduced to a trickle, and the frothy whiteness by which they get their name was nowhere to be seen.

Even so, the hike up the glen was well worth the time and effort, even if we did get out of bed to do it.  I carried my large Dunkin' Donuts cup the entire way so as not to be one of those lamentable litterin' louts.

The path up skirts the rock face and disappears into the woods.
It continues to go up well past the portion of the falls one can see from the bottom.
It was a strenuous climb.

Mary appreciates the pretty little trickle.

And you can, too!

Not a place one would usually be able to stand without getting wet.

Who says there are no straight lines in nature?

It was hot, and the pool was inviting, but we declined.
Instead, I took this picture from a vantage that would usually make me very moist. 

A Bridge For No Reason when drought is the season.
After this shot of picturesque Mary, a young man handed me his phone
and asked me to duplicate the feat for his family.

When we started the ascent, the young family was right behind us...Mom and Dad with a little girl of about 7 years and her younger brother.  Midway up the rise of the first falls, the father accelerated ahead and then stopped, turning around to get a photo of the others on the way up.  However, his daughter was intent on catching him, so the father sternly admonished her to stay at the photo stop.

"Alicia, wait for your mother and brother.  Alicia, stay there.  ALICIA!"

I smiled and continued uphill.  I was transported back 20 odd years to the time when another young father might have done the same, yelling, "KATIE!"

A nice chimney.
The huge logs in the channel
 are a testament to what the usual amount of water can deposit.

Yep, one never knows what kind of flotsam will end up in the gorge.

The fish are glad the pool is deep.

Who says there are no perfect circles in nature?
I particularly like this Olympic-themed
channel-pool tribute to volleyball spiking.

It was a fine hike with some interesting geology.  We'll have to do it again in the spring to see it in full glory!

Backyard Beauty

Mary always creates a beautiful garden.  

Here is a small sampling of some of what I get to enjoy on a regular basis.

I know the names of all the flowers.
This one is "Yellow."

A nice fence-lily.

I'm looking straight down on this one.
The bugs or the wind have been messy with the pollen.

I blew this one up a little too far.
It's almost pistellated.
I should have used my longer lens.
Yeah...that's the anther!

This one seems to say,
"Have a nice day!"

Mary can't claim these.
They've popped up wild on the edge of the lawn.

But these elderberry blossoms are the result of planting long ago.

So pretty and delicate.

Even way up there, far above my upward turned camera.

Splendid multiple compound blossoms.

But don't even think about the wine,
no matter how much of an Elton John aficionado you may be.
The Manischewitz folks use the term "wine" quite loosely.  

And finally, one of my favorite flowers,
not because of their beauty, but what they provide shortly after they expire.
Nothing better than fresh raspberries on my cereal or ice cream or both!

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Workers Toil and Lobsters Boil

What do lobsters and cedar shakes have in common?  Read on.

The shingles on Bill's place on Grand Manan need some help.
Bob and Randy to the rescue!

I ran off while Bob did most of the work scraping off the old shingles.
Here you can see the first row almost complete.
Note the bundles of eastern white cedar shakes (shingles).
They won't be enough.

2 rows up.
Consistent with the rest of the cottage, more or less, we put up the shingles
with a 4 and one half inch reveal.

Yeah, we shingled this place next door earlier in the morning.
Bill calls it the ugliest place on the island.
It is a bit out of scale.
I'm surprised the shinglers ever finished.

Back at the worksite, we broke for lunch.
The green board is nailed up to give us an easy reference for positioning the row.
As long as gravity remains constant, the shingles should be applied level.
It's a good thing we weren't doing this on Sept. 14, 2015,
or the gravity waves would have certainly made a mess of everything.

Once again, Bob is working hard while I take pictures.

That's it for day 1.
What?  You insinuate that we are slackers for only getting this far?
Fie upon thee, if that be the case.
This is incredibly tedious work.

But we are not done for the day.  There is something important that is yet undone!

The seagulls are chasing Ben's boat into the harbour.

At the dock, with the boat docked and the truck awaiting.
The back of the boat is like a pickup tailgate.
It folds down when the real action is taking place out at sea.
Ben provides short-term low-density housing for lobsters.
Emptied, and restocked with goodies,
the housing goes back over the tailgate and into the sea for the next occupants.

Ben is on the right.

High density lobster housing is being winched off the boat
and into the waiting truck.

Lobsters away!

After all the lobsters were in the truck,
the bait for the next day was dropped down into the boat.
The holding company was getting rid of its old frozen bait
though the fresh stuff was available.
Ben was not happy.

But he wasn't so upset that he forgot about us.
He provided us with the freshest lobsters we're ever going to see.

In one fluid motion, Ben was away from the dock and off to his mooring.
It happened so quickly Bob quipped, "I think he's done this before."
Indeed.

The nice little ferry over to White Head Island.
Maybe another day.

Lobsters procured, the next job was filling the pot with seawater.
Once again, Bob is working while I snap the pictures.
It's because he is the more photogenic of the two of us.

No.  Not here.
Might get washed away.

Better idea.

Bob demonstrates his balance and agility.
He didn't get a bit wet.

The wind was whistling through the channel upwards of 40 miles per hour.
Check that...I mean 65 kilometers per hour here in Canada.

This pot will never boil.

OK, now it can boil,
and you can see what lobsters and shakes have in common.
Ignited shakes bake crustaceans 
while the thirsty cooks dispatch libations.

Almost ready...
not because the fire has boiled the water.
Bill is almost ready for more wine.

YES !!

Bill carefully snips the bands from the claws.

The tail gets curved to the body, and in they go.
And yes, it's true.  They make a little screaming noise as they enter.
Very quick and if there is suffering, it does not last long.
Do not ask for whom the pot boils....

Stoke it up!

18 minutes later, we're ready to go.
I made the magnificent salad.

18 minutes later than that, 3 are completely gone.
The last one is for lobster salad on the morrow.

Fortified with morning bacon and eggs following the evening's lobster,
We were back at it the next morning.
There's our supervisor, leaning on the scaffold.
Regardless of his minimal presence, we were very happy he procured the scaffold.
Working on the ladder would have been particularly tedious.

We're making progress. Honest!
Compare to the last image.

Almost there.

Ain't it beautiful!?!