If you’ve read TRACKING TRASH, then you know Curt Ebbesmeyer is an oceanographer with a passion for floating garbage and the things he can learn from it. What you may not know–and what I am thrilled to tell you today–is that Curt has written a book of his own:
FLOTSAMETRICS AND THE FLOATING WORLD will be published by HarperColliins in March 2009, but
amazon is taking pre-orders now.
Congratulations, Curt!
I try to be all cool about the bee sting thing, but truly I am not fearless around bees. For example, yesterday Ellen and I visited the home of our favorite beekeeper, Mary Duane, for a final bee book photo shoot. The idea was that we would help her harvest honey, capturing images of and fascinating facts about the process along the way.
Fascinating fact number one: honey right out of the hive is irresistible. The smell is intoxicating and the stickiness is endearing (at least to a newbie like me) and the taste, good lord, the taste is incredible. Mary let us try comb honey … the wax/honey mixture that is a by product of the harvesting process. It looks like this:
Ellen and I went outside to take that photo in the natural light, and we planned to follow it with a shot of me popping the comb honey into my mouth. But then this happened:
And as soon as I saw the bee on my hand I FREAKED. I screamed. I ran. And the bees followed me, of course, because I had raw honey in my hand. Ellen and Mary say I was quite entertaining; Ellen was laughing so hard she couldn’t even get a photo of the rediculousness.
Not so cool.
What is cool, though, is that we bottled some of the honey I helped to harvest, and there is a dollop of that honey in the cup of tea sitting here beside me, and I will drink that sweet tea as I begin to write the final chapter of the bee book today.
Very cool, indeed.
THE BACKYARD BEEKEEPER
By Kim Flottum
Quarry Books, 2005
Category: Nonfiction for all ages
Of all the beekeeping books I have read in the past eighteen months, this is my favorite by far. It is clearly written, thoroughly illustrated, and beautifully designed. In its pages you will find everything you need to know about keeping bees of your own. (You want to keep bees of your own, don’t you?)
THE BACKYARD BEEKEEPER explores the whys and wherefores of the beekeeping business, its equipment, and its tools. It explains basic bee biology, the job of the beekeeper, and the myriad uses for hive products. Among the latter is a chapter of honey recipes, including ‘Honey Dill Dressing over Red-Skinned Potatoes’ and ‘Crispy Honey Cookies’, both of which may have finally convinced my family to let me keep bees of my own.
How can they resist?
By the way, author Kim Flottum also edits the journal Bee Culture, a must-have for beekeepers … or non-beekeepers who happen to be writing about honey bees. In his June editorial, Flottum said about Colony Collapse Disorder: “Whatever it is, it’s still out there and it’s still killing bees.” The line gives me goose bumps.
For six glorious days last week, I lived here:
Inside this cabin I wrote and read and dreamed. I worked on the bee book, thought deeply about a stalled project, played with some new ideas, gave myself time to breathe, relax, and stretch. Six days!
It was heavenly.
And, believe it or not, the cabin and the space to create were not even the best parts of the week. No, the best part of this writing retreat was the company. My cabin was surrounded by ten others, each home to another working writer. When our work was finished–or when we needed a break from it–we walked in the woods together, shared our stories, talked, laughed, even cried a little bit.
Oh, the air around those little cabins hummed with creativity and friendship (to say nothing of prop planes and weirdo insects) … and I soaked up every last drop!
I know, I know. It looks as if this picture is about the daylilies, but that’s just me trying to be fancy with composition. The image is meant to be all about the hammock in the background, which was a gift to my husband on Father’s Day … and which has become my absolute favorite place to read (er, nap?) on a Sunday afternoon.
Many thanks to Cindy Lord, who suggested this fabulous Images from Home exercise. And many thanks to all of you who stopped by to visit, or posted images of your own home. Thinking about where I live and how to share it here has been a whole lot of fun.
My last two entries in the Images from Home series are all about relaxing here at the Burns homestead. It is, after all, Independence Day weekend … and there shall be lots of celebrating and relaxing.
One of our favorite places to relax and celebrate is around this campfire pit.
Can you guess what three ingredients we stack on the flat stump in the foreground? Here are your clues:
One ingredient is white and squisy;
One ingredient is tan and crumbly;
One ingredient is brown and heavenly.
May your July Fourth celebrations be full of family and friends … and s’mores!
Around the corner and across the street from our house, there is a nondescript dirt trail that leads to one of my favorite places in this town of ours: the Central Massachusetts Rail Trail.
Our section of the trail stretches two plus miles and is just a small part of a 104 mile railroad line that once connected Boston to Northampton. The hope is to someday connect all of Massachusetts with this recreational throughway, but for now individual communities along the old railway’s length are working to dig out and open up the bits they can. Where we live, the Central Mass Rail Trail is tirelessly supported and cared for by an amazing grassroots organization called Wachusett Greenways. They rock.
I took this photo on Tuesday evening, which was stormy here. It is unusual for the path to be this deserted … but it was dreamy to have the silent woods to ourselves.
Two more days of Images from Home to come … be sure to visit Cindy Lord’s blog for a <a href=http://cynthialord.livejournal.com/423718.html target=_blankcomplete list of authors and illustrators who are sharing the places they call home online.
Today’s Image From Home is of the Quinapoxet, a clear, swift river that runs near our house. In the happy months (for me, that’s spring, summer, and fall!), we tromp along its banks regularly in search of frogs, water striders, trout, Great Blue Heron, or quiet moments to cool our feet.
The Quinapoxet feeds the mighty Wachusett Reservoir, and so there is no swimming allowed. Toe-dipping, however, is another story altogether. The river runs alongside our stretch of the Central Massachusetts Rail Trail, which I’ll show you tomorrow, and which explains why my toe-dipper is sporting a Pink Princess helmet.
My sister recently relocated to our town, a fact that both thrills and frightens me. She and I haven’t lived within shouting distance of each other since our teenage years, and those years were passed mostly, um, shouting at each other. And now, two decades later, we attend the same public library. In fact, my kids and I were at the library when Auntie K registered for her FIRST EVER library card.
My sister rocks.
So does my library.
Bigelow Tavern is another West Boylston landmark. It was built in the 1770s and has served as an inn, a private dwelling, a turkey farm, and, most recently, home of our Historical Society. As I was attempting a straightforward shot of the place yesterday, I spotted a darling sparrow singing atop the street sign you see in the image. (The sparrow is there, too, if you look closely. Can you see him?) I instinctually lifted my camera to catch him on film and the image you see here is what I saw in my viewfinder. Something about it satisfies me more than the starightforward building shots I took. This is where I live, folks. A place that is home to old taverns and old churches and young sparrows and spent lilac bushes … and me.
You can read more about Bigelow Tavern here, where you’ll also see some (straightforward!) then-and-now images of the building itself.
