Here We Go Again

Talk about frustration...my computer was hit again last week. With so much to do to get ready for Thanksgiving and the coming weekend, there was little time to worry about the computer. The weekend is coming to a close and I'm using my brother's computer to let everyone know I'll be back as soon as possible.

I can't wait to blog about the Wreath Party! My daughter, a friend of hers, and a friend of mine were my students learning how to make wreaths and swags using fresh boxwood, white pine, and arborvitae. The results were stunning and I took loads of photos to share. I'll have step by step directions to follow for anyone interested in creating holiday decorations from fresh greens.

I hope to be back online in the next few days. Until then, take care and enjoy the kick off to a joyous holiday season.

Thank you Graphics Fairy for Holly Lady.

Apples, Pumpkins & Stuff

I’ve started so many different posts in the last day or so trying to come up with one that feels right. So I asked my six-year-old grandson, “Should I write about spices, pests, or apples, pumpkins, and stuff?”

Redding’s reply, “Apples, pumpkins, and Thanksgiving stuff.” So here it is…

On a gorgeous sky blue day in October Manda, Red, and I went to Votaw’s apple orchard outside of Pioneer, Ohio. The pliable branches on the trees hung to the ground from the weight of apple-laden limbs.

Redding easily picked a bag full of red and yellow delicious apples. Bright red Rome apples were plentiful, too. Wagons loads of pumpkins stood just outside the building that held more apples, cider, and honey. We took home the last bag of Cortlands, the best apple for cooking in my most humble opinion. The downside of Cortlands is that they are not good keepers, so using them promptly is key to the best apple pies and dumplings.


So many of the flavors and scents of autumn come from the wonderful blend of apples and pumpkins paired with spices. I prefer whole spices whenever possible. I like my cinnamon sticks long, anise in stars, nutmegs that look like little brown footballs and cloves with tiny prongs holding a tinier seed aloft.
Cozying up with a mug of tongue-tingling hot mulled cider on a crisp autumn night remains a season-soothing indulgence. Not only does the apple drink taste delicious, the heavy spice fragrance lingers in the air. Making a big batch of mulled cider isn’t always feasible, but when you’re in the mood for just one or two mugs try this recipe.

Mulled Cider

2 cups of cider
1-2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 long cinnamon stick broken into small pieces
1 whole nutmeg, crushed into pieces
1 tablespoon whole cloves

Heat cider in a pan on the stove, making sure it does not boil. Add the spices and let simmer for at least 15 minutes. Using a strainer, pour the cider into your favorite mug, add a stick of cinnamon, and sip slowly savoring the spicy fall flavors.

Other spices to add for a change of pace: cardamom; vanilla bean cut in two; orange peel, a slice of orange or tangerine studded with cloves, whole allspice, lemon.

You can place all spices in a square of cheesecloth and simmer, if you don’t want to strain. Ground spices can be used, but the cider may appear cloudy.

Want to give your mulled cider a kick? Add a splash of rum, bourbon, or brandy.

I heard recently that pumpkin is in short supply this year due to wet fields. Nothing was said as to whether the shortage was due to last year’s growing conditions or this year’s. Regardless, I picked up a can of Libby’s solid pumpkin (not pie filling). One year I tried making pumpkin pies from a little sugar pie pumpkin. The end result was less satisfying, so I went back to using Libby’s and never looked back. I like pumpkin pie spicy, not just a smidge of spice flavor, but I’m talking S P I C E Y! I also prefer brown sugar over white. Maybe it’s just in my imagination, but I swear brown sugar gives pumpkin pie a richer flavor. If you follow the recipe on the label, it does not include nutmeg, but I always grate fresh nutmeg and add an extra shake of all the spices…for good measure.

I recently tried a new pie crust from the domestic sensualist and loved it. The butter adds crispness to the crust. I’m planning to use the buttery crust this year for Thanksgiving pies.

It’s going to be a busy next few days. Blogging will be put on the back burner, but I want to wish all a Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you have time to take in a bit of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, eat hearty, and find a moment for silently counting your blessings.

So to end this I asked Redding his thoughts about Thanksgiving and here’s what he had to say, “Everyone gets thankful. They gather round for their food and eat and then sit at the table and play a game.” Sounds like a lovely day indeed.

The vintage postcard photo is from The Graphics Fairy.

A World of Blue

Kiki, at Awake with Charm & Spirit, created a vibrant post, The Color Essence of Blues, in both words and photos that told her story of blue. She invited others to post their story of blue, too. So here is my photo story of blue, a color that inspires joy, harkens to sorrow, and yet calms the soul.

Navy, periwinkle, skye, baby, robin egg blue…blue emanates from above, below and in the very center of my being. Down a country road on an early evening in June, a golden wheat field capped with heavenly blue whispers in a subtle breeze.

“A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold.”
~Carole King Tapestry

Larger than life, Munchkin land vibrant flowers grow in a small circular bed in Van Wert, Ohio. The blue metal art flowers come from the imagination of Robbie Adams of the Van Wert Street Artists.

“Blue oblivion, largely lit, smiled and smiled at me.”
~William R. Benet

One afternoon, I sped past a road heading for my sister’s home. Out of the corner of my eye I spied two long borders of blue stretching down each side of a back road. I didn’t have time to stop, but I vowed I’d return in a few days to take some photos of the blue drift. On an early Sunday morning, I returned.
“I cannot decide, but this I know…it is some blue flower.”
~Alice Morse Earle

Chicory is the color of blue I want in my next garden. A powerful, electric blue as a bud that softens with age.
“Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower whence came thy dazzling hue?”
~James Montgomery

In humble attitude I walked Woodlawn Cemetery on an Indian summer Sunday in November snapping photos of angelic statues, scenic hills, and autumn color. Amidst the stories of the past a chapel rises with a blue window that captured the light.

“Oh! darkly, deeply beautiful blue. As someone somewhere sings about the sky.”
~Lord Byron

Blue is a color, a place, a music genre, and a feeling. Just a few months ago I captured my grandson sitting on his skateboard, his posture emphasizing his earlier words, “Mimi..I’m lonely.” For a moment he was little boy blue breaking my heart and in the pass of the sun from beneath a cloud, he hopped on his board and performed an ollie.


“When ever I feel blue, I start breathing again.” ~L. Frank Baum

The painting on the wall speaks to me of simplicity in blue. A street café, washing on the line, and winding streets that wander through unknown towns and cities. The Doug Fiely painting belongs to my daughter.

“Reeling—through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue.”
~Emily Dickinson

A pot of lobelia hung in the frame of an arbor in Bryan, Ohio’s Central Park made me smile. Lobelia has long been a favorite flower for planting in the shade, along with a myriad of other annuals that create overflowing planters and beds.

The important thing is to know this flower, look at its color until the blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music.”
~Sally Carrighar

Outside, over there stands a blue spruce. I look out at it every day as I dream of other places, other times, and of him”

“And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wishes for blue a whet.”
~Robert Frost

For five years every Craigville Beach sunset on Cape Cod that I witnessed became a gift. For who knew that time in my paradise would draw to a close and the world of blue ocean become something new.

“And the day climbs down from its blue-loft bed on a slanting ladder of sunbeams, pauses a moment between the trees, airy-light young.”
~Hans Borli

Please take time to check out Awake with Charm & Spirit. While you're there you'll find links to more blogs that embrace the story of blue in the comment section.

Coffee and Contemplating

It’s not often I wake to an empty house, but today when I crawled out of bed the house was quiet, except for a whisper of a meow at my door. Manda is off with two friends searching for a wedding gown and bride’s maid dresses in Cincinnati and Redding spent the night with Grandpa leaving me home alone for an evening and a morning.

After feeding an insistent Miss Adventure, along with her cat-horts, Anime and Mr. Noodle, I started coffee and then jumped in the shower. I sat at the table, sipping on coffee with a spanking new notebook and pen at my fingertips. I don’t know if it was the quiet or the rumbling in my stomach that diverted my plan to journal, but I never wrote a word. Instead, I scrambled an egg, buttered a slice of toast, and ate breakfast contemplating a new and exciting discovery.

While sipping milky coffee in my favorite Chicago mug, I came to realize that this blog has brought something new and wonderful to my life. The Cottage on the Corner gave me a gift, a passion that until the last few months I didn’t know existed. Taking photographs exhilarates me.

Art has always been near and dear to my heart. Through the masterpieces of others, I’ve peered into the world of drawing, painting, sculpting, and photography. I cannot draw with charcoal…I cannot paint with oils…flowers and herbs have been my medium. I painted gardens, borders, and beds with soft petals, jagged-edged leaves, and flowing branches. I conjured up stories using flowers in traditional, modern, and abstract floral design. Now I am adding one more medium to my artistic palette, photography. It combines two passions into one…story telling and painting with the world as my muse. It’s wordless storytelling captured in a moment. Blink and the moment escapes. My perspective on the world opened like a flower when I looked through the lens, my heart beating a little faster, and snapped the picture. I’m a novice for sure. I have no fancy equipment, no wide-angle lenses, filters, or expensive photo manipulation programs. I just have two green eyes that view the world in a brand new way…through a point and shoot, digital Fuji camera.

Photography has eased the hurt of not having my own garden. Yes, I am a gardenless gardener and like Mary in the Secret Garden, I long for a bit of earth to plant flowers. Because my next garden plot exists somewhere in the future, I followed my brother and his wife as they took a giant step into the world of gardening; I visit gardens, search for nature everywhere and take photos along the way, offering my viewpoint as tiny treasures that enhance my blog. After six months of grabbing moments out of thin air, I’ve embraced photography like a new lover…shy, with a quivering hand, yet flush with excitement threatening to spill over into a full-blown love affair.

As I take my last sip of coffee, I contemplate all the wonderful gifts The Cottage on the Corner has brought to me…exchanging ideas with people from faraway places, viewing the perspectives of so many other gardeners who share their worlds through the camera lens, reading opinions, heart-felt musings from kindred spirits, and this joyous new-found love, photography. I have no idea where this little blog will take me next, but I’m overwhelmed by where it’s taken me thus far.

“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.”

~Ansel Adams

Wordless Wednesday on Veteran's Day

Flowers in November

The flower of November is the chrysanthemum, an ancient flower, first cultivated in China, symbolizes happiness and joy. It’s hearty nature and in your face courage to flourish when autumn winds grew chill and temperatures began a downward shift made it favorite for eastern growers. Finding chrysanthemums in November is not too hard. The colorful blooms grace entryways, edges of flowerbeds, and migrate indoors as part of the table décor at the Thanksgiving feast. But what of other flowers? Where else can flowers be found in November? Sometimes in unexpected places.

In a gift…
One day last week a package arrived at my door. It was not unexpected; my sister had called to warn me that she had sent a package and that I should be on the lookout for it. Anxious, I waited to see what surprise she’d sent for my birthday. After answering the door, I scurried to the table and placed the box gently on it. I sat pondering whether to open or save it, but my curiosity got the best of me. I opened the box and inside, nestled amongst packing material a sparkling package with a gold ribbon glimmered at me. I removed the ribbon, unwrapped the glittering fabric and found flowers. My sister, Bev, had made a beautiful cross-stitched masterpiece with the words The Cottage Garden at the top. Flowers, garden creatures, and a dovecote similar to one I had once upon another life danced across the cloth.

When I called to tell Bev thank you and how much I loved the gift, she told me that she’d found the pattern a while back and was making it for herself, but she thought it was so much like my blog, The Cottage on the Corner, that it belonged to me. I cannot begin to describe how touched I am by this very personal gift from one sister to another. All I can say is, I love you, Bev, and can’t wait to see you again, and chatter over a cup of coffee.


In a stained glass window…
I have two sisters, Bev lives in Montana and Nancy lives about 10 or so miles from me. On Sunday I decided to spend the day photographing something...I stopped at Nancy’s and invited her to join me. We headed for Woodlawn Cemetery in Toledo. The old cemetery is also an arboretum with magnificent trees that insist on being noticed. Expecting to find trees bare of fall color, I was surprised to find autumn hues all about the hilly cemetery park.

Nancy and I came across a mausoleum with a stained glass window in the back. Taking photos from the back is impossible because it’s been covered with bars and a translucent covering. The only way to shoot the stained glass was through the panes or small bars of the doorway. As the sun shone through the side window, I captured a top border of red roses crafted from glass. Peering through a lower pane, I was able to shoot the lower part of the window. So, on a warm, sunny day in November I found red roses at Woodlawn Cemetery.

From a stone hand…
What is a cemetery except a world of stories? Behind every marker, every obelisk, every angel with wings expanded lies a story. The stories may be forgotten, but the imagination runs to fill in the gaps of life and death. As a little girl I was fascinated by Lillie Bell Jones. She stands tall and elegant in a country cemetery outside of Farmer, Ohio. The poignant element comes from her hand. She holds a bloom looking for all the world as though she’s about to drop it.


In a garland…
A child-like angel in Woodlawn Cemetery holds a garland as if she’s about to decorate an urn.

Living in the north where seasons change means missing the flowers in the garden. Fortune smiles upon every flower lover each time an unexpected showing comes her way. Flowers on fabric, home décor, gift-wrap, child drawings, paintings, sculpture, art in all its forms, from the florist, from indoor home window gardens, in the heavens, and from gifts keep us content until the first bloom pushes up from the cold ground in spring.

"What a desolate place would be a world without a flower!
It would be a face without a smile, a feast without a welcome.
Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not our stars
The flowers of the heaven."

—A J Balfour

Wordless Wednesday

November Outside My Window

The scene outside my window has noticeably changed over the last month. The two trees that I gaze at when words elude me went from green to golden yellow with tinges of orange to become a colorful carpet on the neighbor’s lawn and finally raked into a pile along side the street. A study in simplicity, dark limbs stretch toward the sky creating outlines and negative space. I may be in the minority, but I believe the beauty of trees in late fall and winter continues.

Gone are the garments that covered long thick branches. Maple, oak, beech and birch reveal the strength of character that houses birds, squirrels, insects, and sometimes hold a swing for childhood glee. Again, I may be in the minority, but I look forward to the time when snow frosts the trees bringing yet another magical moment outside my window.

It’s Mr. Noodle
The ferocious black cat in my Halloween post was none other than Mr. Noodle who had a hard time playing the part. What he wanted to do was roll onto his back so I would scratch his belly. Out of five shots he was slightly spooky in one.


"I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its tone is mellower, its colours are richer, and it is tinged with a little sorrow. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and its content."

-Lin Yutang