. . . What Wonderful Worlds

I have decided that I actually must do some cleaning
today, or OSHA will shut me down.

So today is mostly pictures.  From here at That Old House, and from

the East End of Long Island, where our family has a beach house.

This is a glimpse at our two worlds.

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It's September -- nearly Autumn.

Tell that to our tough New Jersey geraniums.

They are a little anemic -- their scarlet is fading -- but they soldier on.

Here, they cuddle up to some Autumn Joy Sedum, just beginning its blushing bloom,
and one of the world's truly unattractive plants.
It is only outclassed in that category by ornamental cabbage.

At That Old House, most of the summer flowers are now kaput.

Searing heat, roaring Irene, vicious weeds,

hungry deer, and cruel neglect heartlessly caused their grisly demise.
How many more adjectives could I have fit into that sentence?  Hey, they're free!

Not fading yet are the wax begonias around the sunroom foundation.
Wax begonias are either too stupid

or too stubborn to know that their day is done.

Disclaimer:  Alida and Josh planted these for me.  I went shopping.

I don't really like wax begonias, but I we plant them because, gosh darn it,

they are such plucky little plants.  No matter what, they live.

I like that.  And so do the bees.

Ladies and gents, I think we have been mooned.

 Behind the house, the old rambling rose
is the latest all-you-can-eat buffet for the deer.

I don't get the appeal, but then I'm not a deer.
Just a dear.
I can hear the groans right through my computer screen.

One final That Old House picture from today:

We still have the old de-commissioned shutters that were taken off the house when it was painted.
What do you think we should do with them?
Sadly, they are too big to use as Christmas Tree ornaments.


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In our other world . . . on the beautiful North Fork, Howard and I

took a picnic breakfast to a stretch of Long Island Sound beach in Southold.

 A seagull soared overhead.

 Ah.  Now we know why he (she?) was in such a hurry.  Whew!

So if it's Boys on the left and Girls on the right ... who uses that middle door?  Can't be the gulls; they use the roof.

Howard lusted in his heart for this sailboat.

Over on the Peconic Bay side of Southold, I lusted in my heart

for the beautiful big white houses across from Founders' Landing.

How cute is this one, with its own lighthouse?

In both northern New Jersey, and out on the Island,
the green of summer is beginning to get that early Fall gilding of gold.
Leaves are starting to turn.


But don't panic yet.
We still have one week and two days before Summer is officially over.


Like that bee on the begonia, let's make the most of it.  -- Cass

Link Parties!
Outdoor Wednesday at A Southern Daydreamer ... click here!
White Wednesday at Faded Charm ... click here!
Wednesday is Rednesday at It's A Very Cherry World ... click here!

P.S.  For those of you not in the USA, an explanation:  OSHA stands for the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, one of our beloved, bloated and bullying Federal agencies.  In fact, I think that's on its letterhead.

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Home Again

From our family's beach house on eastern Long Island
to our home in northern New Jersey is about a
two-and-a-half hour drive.  Without traffic.

Without traffic is rare, especially on a Sunday evening

following a warm, beautiful weekend at Long Island's shore.

Long Island Sound in Southold; we brought a picnic breakfast here on Sunday morning.

But coming home last evening, the 11th of September, the

traffic on the New York City bridges and their approaches was eerily light.

I guess I was not the only one a little bit spooked by the terror plot warnings concerning New York's bridges.

When we landed firmly on the New Jersey side of the Hudson River, I confess I was glad, and relieved.

And how many times does that happen?

(I'm allowed to make Jersey jokes; I live here.)

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As Howard and I ran errands yesterday out on the North Fork,
we snapped some pictures; it was one of those stunningly
perfect September days.  Just like it was ten years ago. 

These pictures were all taken in the Village of Southold,

where the Stars and Stripes was in full flight, as it was all across our great land.

Founders' Landing, where the first settlers set foot in 1640.  Southold is the oldest English-settled town in NY State.
You can see Irene damage on the tree, and the browned grass where water flooded over the bulkheads.

A one-room schoolhouse, part of the Village's museum complex.

Do you see both passengers in this pony cart?

Flying Old Glory!

A weathered barn, right on Main Street in the Village.

 Humble barns, and garages on swanky seaside homes, wore the colors.

In town, flags lined Main Street.

At the Southold Fire Department, an enormous flag.

 And at its base . . . 

 an empty pair of firefighter's boots, and folded gear.

After the attack, firemen and rescue and EMT volunteers from

near and far, including from Southold, helped at the WTC.

  

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On a lighter note . . . because it is a shore community, what else

would you expect to find atop the Southold fire siren tower but . . .

an Osprey nest?

Are Ospreys hard of hearing?  I imagine Mrs. Osprey had a few choice words for Mr. Osprey about his choice of home.

Southold is a village of old houses,

and they, too, flew our flag.

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Things changed forever on that day.

The WTC from the Jersey City side of the Hudson River, in 2000. 

Photo by The AP.

The WTC, Sunday evening, 2011 -- the beams of light.

Photo by my niece, Alice, who lives in Jersey City.  She was in tenth grade in 2001.

Forget?  It would be impossible.

God Bless America.  -- Cass

Link Parties:

Mosaic Monday at Little Red House.  Click here.

Metamorphosis Monday at Between Naps On The Porch.  Click here.

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Red, White, and Topless

On Tuesday, the waterproofing company
finished installing the French drains in our cellar.

That is a big Yay! but it will be awhile before we'll be able to move things back down to the basement.

Cement has to cure.  Like ham.  Only not as tasty.

Also on Tuesday, our sunroom got the spa treatment.

Power washing the exterior, scrubbing off the mossy bits, and Windex-ing all the glass outside.

Yes, that's the brave window washer up on the glass ceiling, which isn't really glass

but some sort of poly-vinyl-somethingunpronounceable plastic filled with insulating gas,

that flexes when people walk on it, and that's why everything is covered in plastic inside.

Like so:

Because when window washer guy was on the roof, and the roof got all wobbly, this happened:

Yes, that's water, folks.  We had to leave the plastic on for 24 hours to allow the final drips to work their way through to the inside.

But our conservatory is lovely and pure white again, and all the doors and windows adjusted

and working just as they should, and everything ship shape and Bristol fashion.

I'm getting all nautical now, in readiness for my next white picture:

Clams!

Clams, dug right in front of our beach house on eastern Long Island, just this past Monday,

by these squatters, below, who are enjoying linguine with clam sauce, Long Island corn and Long Island tomatoes:

Not in the picture, my sister in law Doris, the family shutterbug.

                              Okay, they are not squatters.

That's my brother Kirby in red, son Matt, daughter Emily, and her husband Mike --

who was bitten by a crab that he was setting free from a trap.

Crabs have no manners.  None.  Ingrates, all of them.

The quaff of choice for a hot summer afternoon at the beach house is my Mom's favorite cocktail,

the Muttini.  Here, what looks to be a lovely batch of them.  Our squatters know how to live.

Kirby and Doris, enjoying a late afternoon break on the deck.

I can't tell you how much joy it gives me and my sister Peggy that our family is enjoying our family  house, and approves of the changes since April.  We've been kind of obsessed with getting it all right, and a little nervous, too!  And thanks also to Kirby and Doris for their contributions to the kitchen out there.  Every beach house needs a toaster, frying pans and -- maybe most importantly! -- a blender!

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Now for the Red and the Topless
 Our study this week is 80% storage unit, with boxes and oddball things like a wallpaper trough
and a pressure cooker, waiting to return to the basement . . . and 20% dressmaker's studio.

Anne is designing another show, another New York premiere, that requires Victorian style clothes.

The study is awash in billows of fabric and straight pins,
and an old auction-find dress form on which Anne is designing elements of the

costumes.  For this one, a solid dark red skirt needs an overskirt that can be a quick change for the actress.

I've been fascinated watching Anne do her work. 

I can sew, but I can't take long swaths of shapeless fabric and within a few hours end up with something beautiful and wearable.

I can make curtains without instructions or patterns, but who wants to wear them?
Other than Scarlet O'Hara maybe . . . .

Only as I recall, she didn't go topless.
(Anne just read what I wrote, and said, "Well, it might have helped her cause!"  Cheeky monkey.)   
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Mr Dion is not interested in any of this girlie stuff.

After all the hub-bub of the past two days, he has spent most of today asleep.

And who can blame him?

I have saved the best picture for last, so I hope you stuck with me!

It's a panoramic view of the cove off Long Island's
Peconic Bay, where our beach house is.

The wounded Mike took the picture from the dock, brave lad.

Our house is second from far left.  Click on the picture -- click twice! -- to enlarge.

 Wednesday Link Parties!  -- Cass



Visit Susan at A Southern Daydreamer for Outdoor Wednesday.  Click here!

For more summer REDS, visit It's A Very Cherry World for Wednesday Is Rednesday.  Click here!
And for heavenly whites, it's White Wednesday at Faded Charm Cottage.  Click here!



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