The locust took out some of the persimmon trees nearby, too.
We’ve had a little too much excitement here lately. Saturday of last week, we had a big straight line wind blow through. The grandkids and I were taking a rest after our yard chores when I heard a huge noise outside and noticed that the power had gone out. An eighty foot tree had crashed down, of course, right on the transformer, taking out the power to the whole neighborhood, plus pulling all the lines down from the house. What a mess!
REC repairing the line. Some of the logs from the 80 ft tree, cut and ready for lumber in the future.
I quickly called the Rural Electric Coop while my son jumped in to cut up the tree. Later, after the REC arrived and began putting things back to rights, he finished cutting the tree into logs, and then using our old tractor, pushed them out of the way for future use as firewood. Limbs are still getting shaken down with each wind.
The unfortunate part is that although the REC got the rest of the neighbors back online, the line from the transformer to the house is the responsibility of the homeowner, so one needs an electrician for that. No electricity for us until the next morning. Reading by oil lamp, just like Abe Lincoln.
Damage to the house. The hidden reason the tree blew over, in addition to the straight line wind.
Of course, our local electrician was out here first thing so we got connected back to civilization quickly. Unfortunately, no internet for several more days. I’ve been having withdrawal. And a very slow cell phone connection remains. Well, so much for living the pioneer life in a 140 year old house.
Anyway, this happened when Hurricane Ike rolled through many years ago. A big wind knocked down several trees that time, and the electricity was out for nearly a week. Much less of an inconvenience this time. Be prepared for (nearly) anything with life in the country.
The three tallest locust trees. Now we’re just left with two. The one on the right is the culprit.It seems there is a hole in the sky with the missing big tree.
My west coast son asked me this week, Hey, Mom, have you been doing any work in your studio lately? Ha!
My studio is a summer kitchen about 30 feet from the house. In case you don’t know, summer kitchens were standard buildings for most farms in the south and Midwest a century ago. They were designed to keep the heat from the wood cookstoves out of the house during the summer, cooking and canning. Although very handy as a studio, it’s not really comfortable during the depth of winter. I’ve been known to wear a couple of pairs of socks, several layers of other clothes, a hat and fingerless gloves while working there in the winter. Turning up the heater is not really economical.
Tuesday, Jan 21, 2025. Muted sunrise on an overcast day.Wednesday, Jan 22, 2025. I love the fiery sunrise reflecting off the refrozen crusty snow.
Normally, winters around here are like long autumns. We lived in Michigan for ten years so I’m pretty used to some pretty chilly weather. But this past couple of weeks, we’ve had nine or ten inches of snow with a few inches of ice on top. Temps have dropped to zero, and the sun has only weakly thawed and refrozen the ice. We were housebound for a few days. Our drive is still a mess and not for the faint of heart, or those without four wheel drive.
Thursday, Jan 23, 2025 Another rosy sunrise.Friday, Jan 24, 2025 Misty evaporation of the snow.
But…the scenery has been beautiful. Especially the sunrises. As you can see in the photos, the morning colors are reflected off the icy snow crusts. Probably subject for future paintings but I’m pretty tired of it by now.
Wherever you live, I hope you are having a more pleasant winter than we’ve been having. Keep warm. Keep safe.
Another golden sunrise, more melted and refrozen snow.
The Singing Tree, acrylic on canvas with sterling silver gilding, 30 x 24, Kit Miracle
I have a singing tree in my front yard. Actually, right next to the house.
Oh, it’s not belting out O Sole Mio or anything like the latest rap. It’s more of a gentle, low key humming, singing really. The first time I heard it was when I was walking around the yard on a windy day. I kept looking around to see if anyone was there. It took me a while to realize that the sound was coming from a tree. The twisted branches were rubbing against each other, creating a sound.
Our house, like so many older homes in this part of the midwest, is surrounded by yard trees. These were planted decades ago to provide shade to houses in the heat of the summer, long before air conditioning. The trees nearest the house are all maples, mostly black or sugar maples. (Lovely colors in autumn.) Although we’ve lost some of the trees over the years, there are still enough to provide some shade.
The Singing Tree, original photoThe Singing Tree, black and white photo manipulation
Last spring I took a photography course. I was mostly interested in learning how to use the features of my cameras. Didn’t need much help with composition. One of our weekly assignments was to get out and film nature. The Singing Tree was one of my entries. After some computer manipulation, I did a very striking black and white, almost abstract. I was going to paint is as such, but then reverted to a muted impressionistic painting with added sterling silver gilding. I even added a maple leaf motif to the edges of the painting, in sterling silver, of course.
The Singing Tree, detail 1The singing Tree, detail 2The Singing Tree, edge with leaf motif in sterling silver
The whole painting has been sprayed with clear acrylic which prevents the sterling silver from tarnishing. Adding the gilding adds several more steps to the actual painting which slows the whole process.
What do you think of when you hear the word country?
For some, it might refer to a nation but I’m thinking of a place a little closer. For many it means a state of mind, an attitude not a specific place.
For me the term refers to a rural place, a landscape. An escape from or to. Getting back to nature. A walk in the woods. A bench in the park, or even a geranium on the window sill.
Country is a feeling, an attitude, a breath of air. The first daffodil or garden tomato. Watching a tiny spider try to climb a blade of grass. Or the cute tree frog plastered to the window at night, staring back at me with his big eyes.
Geese overhead. Early morning visitors.
I live in the country, or what many people think of when they hear that term. With fields and woods, streams and private places. In a very very old house which still echoes with the laughter of children from long ago and more recently.
The walls are a foot thick and not one of them is exactly perpendicular. And that’s OK; neither am I these days.
The best compliment I’ve ever received was from my great Aunt Catherine who was visiting many years ago. She was sitting in an old wingback chair with some music playing softly in the background. The windows were flung open to catch the breeze and she remarked, This house is just so comfortable. And isn’t that what anybody wants their guests to feel? Comfortable?
Logs used in the front half of the house. Notice the adz marks on these hand-cut beauties.Hobbit door leading to the little attic.Hand-carved back door.
No matter where we live now, most of us are only a generation or two from the country life. Fortunately we can still experience a taste of country with that pot of tomatoes on the deck or the geranium in the window. Take a walk in the park. Feed the birds. Just sit in the shade and tune into nature’s sounds.
Frequent visits to my grandparents as a child planted the seeds of my love for the country life. Collecting still-warm eggs from the chickens. Playing with cousins in the hayloft. Giving that mean old sow a wide berth. Living on that little farm in the county was always a dream of mine.
My husband and I realized this dream thirty-five years ago when we actually bought the farm at auction. That resulted in a lot of work to bring the old place up to date. We were much younger then and had watched way too much of This Old House. Ha ha. Not quite so easy. Add a twenty-five mile commute to work (and the grocery). But it’s been fun through the years with lots of rewards (and some trials).
I love the version of country that I’ve been living for the past couple of decades but I also realize that you may have a different version. Do you decorate with simple hand-made furniture and quilts? Or put your green thumb to work on those patio plants? Maybe you can walk down to the ocean shore or river to check out the wildlife? Or are you a birder, waiting in a swamp for the first rays of dawn in order to photograph those cranes that are passing through?
What does your country look like? Is it comfortable?
Beams in the kitchen. Each plate is a family memory.
Posted onDecember 25, 2022|Comments Off on The Big Chill – Christmas
Blue sky and blue shadows. Beautiful but chilly.
Unless you were vacationing in some tropical paradise this past week, you probably are aware of the big arctic event that blasted through the center of the country this past week. After a relatively balmy fall season leading up to the holidays, this is what my little corner of the Midwest experienced this week.
A country welcome. Nothing fancy but a little festive.Only one set of tracks. Everyone is hiding out indoors.
The weather forecasters were urgently warning much of the nation to pay attention and take appropriate action. Which we did. The cellar was loaded with firewood in anticipation of the deep freeze. The fridge was full of the usual supplies. Our son and his girlfriend were rushed to Louisville on Thursday in anticipation of their very early flight back to the west coast on Friday. (Fortunately, they experienced only a small delay.) We made it home by early afternoon before the big blast and battened down the hatches in preparation.
My father carved a series of holiday figures and gifted them to us children over the years. I cherish every one.This poinsettia looks festive decorating a vintage birdcage outside my studio.My favorite jingle bell.
By early evening, the temperatures began to drop, the misty rain turned to driving snow, and the wind cranked up the volume. It didn’t stop until today. The high here yesterday was zero. I didn’t even step foot outside the house until today when I went for a walk and to catch up on outdoor chores.
Burrrrr. A beautiful but chilly sunrise.What ho?! Lots of visitors at the mulch pile. Not too many takers for the orange rinds but many others have been picking through.Mr. Blue Jay is all fluffed out and looks enormous. He’s at the kitchen window, waiting for me to fill the feeder. Greedy feather dusters.
The sun was out and everything was sparkly. The bird feeder has been popular. We’ve gone through forty pounds of sunflower seeds in the past two weeks. I saw plenty of tracks here and there, especially around the mulch pile. I was looking for another visitor, too. I spotted a mink skulking about last week which was the first that I’ve seen around here. Haven’t seen any deer or turkeys but I’m sure they’re holed up somewhere. Leo the cat has been taking marathon naps and very quick trips to check the weather. The dog doesn’t care and is always ready to play with anyone who ventures outdoors.
Anti-chill. No farmhouse backdoor would be complete without an assortment of hats and coats during a winter storm.A big pot of chili for the big chill. Yum, just what you need to warm up.
We haven’t had a big freeze like this for many years so it’s been an adventure.
Anyway, I hope that wherever you are spending Christmas day that you’re warm and cozy and safe. Enjoy your families if you’re near, or your friends if you’re not. Or better yet, make your friends into a new family.
Let the warmth of your hearts extend to those in need. Stay safe.
I have mentioned several times over the history of this blog how rural and sparsely populated this area is. In fact, until just last year, we were the only county in the state that didn’t even have a stoplight…and we were proud of it.
But times change.
This was brought home to me last week as I pulled out of our driveway and drove down our short road. I noticed a new house being built. Well, I knew it was being built; it’s a former neighbor who is moving back to the area. We’re happy as they were good neighbors.
This set me to thinking about all the new houses that have cropped up since we moved here over 35 years ago. At that time there were only six houses on the whole two and a half mile road. Now there are twelve. Yeah, I know, not many but still doubled.
This led me to reflect upon which house was the oldest house. And…it’s OURS!
When we bought this house at auction (that is a lot of money to spend at the drop of a hammer), it was in the position where it could have been rented out and run into the ground in about ten years, or someone could put some money into it and fix it up. We chose to do the latter. We had been looking for a place such as this for over a year. We could either find a house in the country with no property, or property with no house. Despite what the Hallmark channel would have you believe, it’s difficult to find a nice old home in the country. Still a desirable goal but increasingly scarce.
The road out front was gravel (since paved). We do have city water but it had only been in for about three months which is probably why there wasn’t too much competition for the home (few people knew about the city water which would have made the property more valuable.) It’s also only a few miles from the state’s largest natural recreation area, a desirable place. But it’s the setting that everyone always comments on as they drive up. The house sits in the middle of the property. We found a cornerstone that dates it to 1883 but I think it’s probably about forty years older. Probably an original land grant, several of which we saw when we were in the market.
The front of the house is log with layers of clapboard, insulation, and siding on the outside, and lath and plaster, new drywall inside. The walls are about a foot thick which makes for a very quiet home. I’ll regale you with all our adventures in remodeling a house this old some other time.
I’ve often reflected on why someone would build a house in the middle of the property rather than on the road with easier access. The road used to kick up lots of dust but this was before automobiles. Probably because the house site is flat with several close water sources – creeks, dug wells, springs, etc. I have also noticed over the years that we found many pottery shards and Indian artifacts, chips, etc. This may have been a dwelling site long before the country was settled. The attraction of water sources, abundant wildlife, a large river a few miles away would have been the same for native Americans as they were for settlers.
This also led me to reflect on the house numbering system. (I had a lot of time to think on the drive that morning.) There are some places in Japan where the house numbering system is based on the age of the dwelling. The first house on the block is number 1, the second house on the block is number 2, etc. That is totally confusing for a person who was raised in the Midwest where roads are laid out in grids, usually of a mile. How does anyone find a house in the Japanese system? Do people go around and around the block until they spot the desired number?
I am not an historian but I do enjoy learning how a community or area got settled. It reminds me of Pete Hammill’s book Downtown: My Manhattan, Harriette Simpson Arnow’s Flowering of the Cumberland, and other similar stories. Who came first? What was it like then? Why was this area selected? I’m sure that your local library, county museum, or historical society can direct you to information on the settling of your own locale.
Anyway, these are some random thoughts I had on a little trip to town the other day.
Posted onJune 5, 2022|Comments Off on Painting local
The Little Cottage, acrylic on canvas, 11 x 14, KitMiracle I was driving down a side street of nearby Birdseye, Indiana, when this scene captured my attention. One of the smallest houses in town with the largest tree in town. The front path and gate are framed by beautiful lavender and blue irises. Painted in heavy impasto, a very impressionist-style painting.
One of my favorite parts about traveling is seeing new vistas. Visiting the mountains, the parks, the ocean, historical sites. It’s all good. I always take my art equipment and capture the areas on canvas. Parking my easel on the edge of the Grand Canyon and painting for a couple of hours is my bliss.
But one of the best parts about traveling is returning home and seeing your own world through new eyes. Noticing that which you may pass every day but in a new way. You can look at your own home town as a tourist.
At the Crossroads, Schnellville, Indiana. Acrylic on canvas, 11 x 14. KitMiracle It was a spring morning and the sun was playing in and out of the clouds. This little road has many twists and curves, the beautiful hills catching the sunlight. This little crossroads only has about six houses and reminds me of many villages in Germany or France.Seven Cedars in Spring, acrylic on canvas, 9 x 12, KitMiracle. Along the same Schnellville Road, these cedar trees were silhouetted against the spring sky.
Spring here in Southern Indiana was so beautiful this year. Often we’ll receive a late frost or freeze which pretty much ruins everything, but this year was spectacular. The wild flowers in the forests and fields put on a show to remember. I captured the spring greens of the fields and byways for several weeks, and even had my husband drive while I was shouting, stop here! to take photographs.
The Old Lady’s House, acrylic on canvas, 11 x 14, KitMiracle. I used to drive past this house frequently on my way to work. A very old lady lived there who always mowed her lawn by hand, and she always wore a kerchief. I think her grandson lives there now. Located in central Dubois County, this is a very typical spring view in these parts.
The results have been paintings of spring fields and crossroads, little villages, gentle vistas of all types. Not my usual big, bold colors but a much more gentle palette. Often painted in the style of Pissarro or Monet but not actually deliberately. I just want to bring to the viewer’s attention and appreciation the overlooked landscapes of our everyday world.
Take a look around your own world, your home town, the back allies. I’m sure you can find some wonderful vistas, too, which you may have overlooked a hundred times. They’re out there, I promise.
View more about these paintings online at this link.
Several varieties of daffodils bloom throughout the spring. So easy to grow.
I wasn’t sure if spring would ever arrive this year. We’ve had weather ranging from sleet and snow and ice, to upper 70s and 80s two days later. Very unpredictable.
But I love the spring greens this time of year. It only lasts a few weeks before the heavy greens roll in, but that bright yellow-green just perks me up. Didn’t we used to have a crayon called “spring green?”
The bluebell blossoms start out as pink, then turn sky blue when they open. They pair well with naturalized narcissus. From one small patch, these blue bells have naturalized all over the yard. I have given starts away and even planted some along a wooded path last year. When they’re finished blooming, they totally die back and won’t be seen until next spring.
I have been driving around just gathering photos for future reference. One day, I even had my husband drive the little country roads while I took pictures. Have to capture the scenery while it’s here.
As with many old farmsteads, our yard is full of violets. I love the varieties of colors, from deep purple and blue, to pale lavender, even to white and creamy yellow. Some people think these are weeds but I love them.These purple crocuses seem to have an almost internal glow. The purple ones blossom before the other colors, at least at my house.
However, the beauty just in my own yard has been refreshing also. A cacophony of whites and yellows, blues and purples. The really exciting thing about the spring flowers is that they’re so fugitive. They don’t last for long and I know that I won’t see them for another year. And in most cases, they are pretty much maintenance-free.
Now the real work begins. Planting the garden, preparing flower beds, trimming the lane, picking up winter debris. It’s always something here on the farm. But I love it.
The lilacs have been particularly spectacular this season. The scent is almost overwhelming but welcome for their few weeks of blooming.Here are more naturalized flowers by the old well. Wisteria on the arbor. This is the first year that our wisteria has bloomed. Such a beautiful flower but a little invasive. I have to trim it back from nearby trees and bushes.
Farmhouse in Spring. Acrylic, 12 x 16. Kit Miracle
Although spring officially began a little over a week ago, the season has been sneaking up on us for a while. The grass is greening with that lovely shade of spring green. The trees are sporting a haze of pinky-red buds or some with more greenish buds.
The daffodils and crocuses are out. The yard if full of spring beauties, a tiny white flower with a pink stripe. It looks like snow in some areas. And the forsythias in the yard and out by the road where I had my son transplant shoots over fifteen years ago. I think it adds a little colorful surprise for passersby.
I’ve been so busy with other activities but have been able to sneak out to catch a painting or two. These are some of my favorite recent ones. One depicts our house sitting on the little hill with the morning sunlight catching the fronts of the buildings. The middle building behind the big house is my studio.
The second larger painting is of our North field looking west. You can see the farm rows from last year’s crops. The white dogwood, some redbud, and the various spring colors on the big trees. Such a pretty time of year.
North Field in Spring. Acrylic on canvas 16 x 20. Kit Miracle
I love this view of the ice-covered branches, sparkling in the sunlight.
Unless you’ve been living in a cave or on a remote island this week, you’ve heard about the huge snowstorm that swept the nation. News stories abounded, showing endless reels of people who were worse off than you. Ice, snow, trees crashing, roads impassable.
Well, this was our reality this week.
The ice was the first to arrive, coating this rhododendron right outside the window.
Fortunately we had plenty of warning as we watched the storm roll up from Texas through the Ohio River Valley. Watching hours of local weather predictors guess whether the front would stay upstate or come down our way. Where is the snow line? Who will see sleet and ice? It’s tiresome after awhile.
But we were a little nervous. Ice on trees, add some wind, pop, there goes your electric for a few days.
My husband gets in pioneer mode. Park the newer car in the garage. Park the other vehicles away from the trees. Make sure we have supplies in – milk, bread (I live with a guy who bakes), wine. Check the oil lamps, the kerosene heater, the electronics are charged up as is the backup. I spoke about this before in a previous blog. We have a gas (propane) stove and hot water so no problem. Can’t use the gas furnace or the wood furnace because there would be no electric to run the blowers. But we do keep the wood fired up low to keep the pipes from freezing.
We were lucky this time. First the ice, then some sleet, then some snow. No wind. No loss of power. Just enjoy the peace inside with some books and the TV.
View down the drive, with the late afternoon shadows. We didn’t really have any trouble getting out, especially after grading the driveway.
My husband and the neighbor got outside to grade the drive with their tractors. I took a few walks with the dog. The glittering ice on the trees was so beautiful, tinkling a bit with a little breeze. Kept the birdfeeder filled. We buy sunflower seeds in forty-pound bags. Now we’re listening to the giant thumps as the ice melts and slides off the roof. The grandkids are over, taking more cooking lessons and playing with the toys that they don’t see every day. Stomping and sliding outside with the dog.
I hope you were able to find some good in the storm, even if it was just a little peaceful time to count your blessings.
The birdfeed has been popular this week, normally with dozens of birds at a time. Cardinals, blue jays, woodpeckers, titmice, juncos, and more. We go through forty pounds of sunflower seeds pretty quickly.
I'm a professional artist, retired director of a performing arts center, bona fide book addict, and enjoy the quiet life...most of the time. I'd love to hear from you or get your ideas for future posts. Come back soon!
I'm a professional artist, retired director of a performing arts center, bona fide book addict, and enjoy the quiet life...most of the time. I'd love to hear from you or get your ideas for future posts. Come back soon!
my90acres 