An ancient and neglected apple tree. Actually some sort of crab apple tree with fruit the size of golf balls. Large golf balls that were tart but delicious. Griffin loved to scarf them up when they carpeted the lawn in autumn.
Doug Decker cleans up ancient crab apple tree after hail storm hits Rosslyn on May, 16, 2012.
For six years I pruned and nourished the crab apple tree back to health. Aside from a largely rotten trunk. Nevertheless, each spring the fruit tree filled with blooms which by summer’s end had become much fruit.
More pruning. Another spring; even more apple blossoms. The hope of fruit.
Yesterday, May 16, 2012 the skies blackened too early for night and then the clouds erupted in a short but angry tantrum of driving rain, mothball-sized hail and driving wind. When the hail and rain stopped and the fog cleared, the crooked fruit tree had fallen, snapped off at her stem.
We are lucky. In so many ways we are lucky. But this spring we are especially fortunate because Rosslyn boathouse is dry. Lake Champlain water levels are low. Our waterfront weathered winter — what winter there was — and spring without incurring the destructive flooding which tormented us a year ago.
The dock is in. The ski runabout is in. The Adirondack chairs are lined up along the waterfront. The beach and lawn and gardens are recovering from last spring’s endless inundation.
But all is not forgotten. Fully half of Rosslyn’s waterfront, maybe more, remains a boulder piled mess. Thousands of pounds of stone rip-rap installed last spring to stabilize NYS Rt. 22 buried two hundred year old cut stone retaining walls.
Kathryn Cramer photographs flooded boathouse
But we are rebuilding. Slowly. Steadily recovering from the 2012 Lake Champlain floods.
In recognition of our current good fortune, and as an incense infused offering to the weather gods, I’ve compiled some snippets from blog posts past chronicling the anxious weeks-turned-months of flooding that Rosslyn boathouse endured.
I hope you’ll enjoy looking backward into the soggy past, even if for no other reason than the our boathouse is currently dry, high above Lake Champlain’s surface! For me, these words and images inspire a deep sigh of relief.
April 28: Lake Champlain Flood Defies History
According to this USGS data for Lake Champlain we’re making history. To be more precise, Lake Champlain’s water levels are making history… I can assure you that Rosslyn boathouse is now swamped… I’m worried that heavy wave action combined with a large floating log or two acting as a battering ram against the boathouse superstructure could be devastating. (Boathouse Needs a Snorkel)
April 28: Flooding Closes Essex-Charlotte Ferry
Of course, if the ferry dock is under water, then Rosslyn boathouse isn’t far behind! As of mid-morning today, the water had risen about 6″ above the floor boards… So far the winds have remained low, minimizing boathouse damage from large logs and other flotsam surging against the dock, railings and walls. (Essex-Charlotte Ferry Flooded Out)
April 29: Waterfront Damaged, Boathouse Okay
Most of the drama surrounds the boathouse, especially since we’ve worked long and hard to restore it to health and happiness. But the waterfront is another big concern. Major erosion already, and that’s with relatively light wind and minimal wave action. Big wind and big waves could be catastrophic… Although we haven’t finished landscaping the entire waterfront, roughly a third (about 80′) looked great up until a few days ago. We’ve rebuilt the stone walls and planted a lawn on the terrace above the beach. The rear edge of the lawn, following the base of the next stone terrace had grown into a handsome day lily bed that stretched the full eighty feet. Spectacular in summer. Now virtually erased by drift wood grinding and churning in the waves. All hand planted. All pampered through the first season. All healthy and thriving earlier this week. All gone now. Memories. I can only hope that some of the bulbs are intact, floating around Lake Champlain, and that they will wash up on people’s beaches and surprise them this summer with heirloom blooms! (Lake Champlain vs. Rosslyn Boathouse)
May 1: Boathouse Submerged, Precautions Taken
Two sections of aluminum docking had gotten twisted and battered by waves and floating logs, and this morning the larger of the two had been knocked over the lowest stone retaining wall and lay upended on the submerged beach. Because the water’s now over my head on the beach and my waders only reach up to my chest, I had to work carefully from the terrace above the beach, slowly hauling the dock back up, waves and gravity working against me.
George Davis in Rosslyn boathouse on May 16, 2011, photo credit Kathryn Cramer
Before recovering the docks I waded through the boathouse. We’re no longer able to shut the main door because the water has swollen the bottom half too much to fit in the doorjamb. The water’s now thirteen inches deep inside, covering the first step and part of the second step leading up to the second floor. The two louvered doors leading out to the pier on the lake side had been battered all night by the waves, and the hinges were ripping. The temporary fastener we’d used to secure the doors was gauging the waterlogged wood. I released the doors and opened them wide, holding one side back with a rope and the other side back with a large stone. Now the water is surging through the inside of the boathouse, still tugging the doors against their restraints, but hopefully the damage will be less severe with them open. (Need a Hand?)
May 13: Flood Undermines Road and Waterfront
I’m still soggy and still anxious about the waves rolling through the interior of the boathouse and crashing against the rapidly eroding bank supporting Route 22, but I’m beginning to see that the glass is half full after all. And Lake Champlain? It’s still overfull! (Re-roofing and Flood Proofing)
June 1: Emergency Measures to Save Road
Stephen Phillips field sketch and notes of Rosslyn shoreline/road condition
The good news is that the [boathouse] structure remains sound, and damage so far has been minimal. Unfortunately we identified increasing surface mold… green, gray and black fuzzy mold!
Beneath the water level inside and outside, everything is covered in slippery, green algae… all of the surfaces that have been saturated for the better part of two months. And until the water level falls another 18″ or so, we’ll need to continue monitoring the waterfront from large debris, trees, etc. Constant vigilance and quick log wrangling has saved the structure significant damage so far…
New York State DOT engineers [determined that road/waterfront] erosion was far more severe… completely eliminating most of the embankment and undermining the road. The pavement began to crack in deep fissures running parallel to the lake as the weight of the road caused it to settle and slough.
The remedy involved 250 tons — approximately ten tandem dump truck loads — of riprap dumped over the side of the road to arrest further erosion and stabilize the road… The DOT is continuing to monitor the road to determine whether or not additional stabilization will be necessary. In the event that the road continues to settle, the next step will be to install a steel sheet pile retaining wall… but we are hoping against hope that it will not be necessary to mar this historic waterfront with a steel retaining wall. (Friends, Flooding and Photos)
June 13: Architect Visits Flooded Boathouse
Edward Pais was a classmate of mine at Deerfield Academy from 1986 to 1990, and he now practices architecture in Burlington, Vermont… he’s offered ongoing feedback about our boathouse during the Lake Champlain flooding. Recently he offered to come over and take a look… Ed’s reaction was encouraging, and despite pushing him into engineering territory a couple of times, I mostly listened and took mental notes… Ed’s recommendation to quickly and aggressively treat the mold situation was highlighted in a follow-up message after his visit. He suggested that we should remove the baseboards to inspect for mold… (Ed Pais visits Rosslyn Boathouse)
June 27: Toppling Tree Endangers Boathouse
The good news is that flooding is abating. Rapidly. In fact the water’s “fallen” to normal spring flood stage… Which means that we’re finally catching up on the damaged waterfront, repairing the boathouse, installing docks and boat hoist, etc. You may remember that large ash tree was undermined by the flood and was beginning to topple down over top of the boathouse. Not good. You may also remember that local arborist Mark Sauslgiver decided to install a tension line from high in the tree to the guardrail north of the boathouse. The idea was that in the event the trees roots gave way and the tree toppled, the line would pull the falling tree northward, sparing the boat house.
Ash tree undermined by 2011 Lake Champlain flood was removed to prevent damage to Rosslyn boathouse.
I liked the idea. Sounded good. Looked good when I drew a little diagram on paper. But, I’d be lying if I claimed that I was 100% confident it would work. That’s a big tree, and I had a difficult time imagining a static line enduring a fall much less staying taught and pulling thousands of pounds of gravity-fueled ash anywhere other than straight down. On top of the boathouse, the pier, and the railings. But, turns out Mark knew his tension lines.
Today his crew removed the tree, piece by piece, sending massive chunks of wood down a “zip line” to the curb or New York State Route 22 where they could be cut up and/or chipped. The entire affair was a success!
I’m deeply saddened to lose a mature, healthy tree that offered much appreciated shade in the heat of summer and served as a charming frame for images of the boathouse. But I am overjoyed that the tree was removed before gravity won. And I’ve been assured that sooner or later it would. (Rosslyn Boathouse Free from Toppling Ash)
With Lake Champlain retreating, Rosslyn boathouse intact and our waterfront recovering, the summer of 2011 finally began to get under way. And we’ve been making up for lost time ever sine! If you’re passing through Essex this summer, drop me a note and we’ll celebrate!
Rosslyn, Essex on Lake Champlain (Painted by Mary Wade)
My bride refers to herself as “Mama” to our Labrador Retriever, Griffin. It’s always struck me as a bit goofy, preferring, I suppose, to think of myself as my dog’s master. Though anyone familiar with our little family of three would hastily remind me that I might have that backwards, as Griffin clearly rules the proverbial Rosslyn roost.
I kid Susan that her childfree stance belies latent maternal instincts which she channels into her canine progeny. (N.B. While you might initially balk at this, detecting an underhanded jab, you can rest assured that Susan is quite comfortable with — even proud of — her “Dog Mama” status. And any implication that I’m married to a metaphorical dog, well, let me just suggest that the quick glimpse of my dazzling damsel in the video below will handily refute any concerns. After eleven years she still knocks my socks off!)
So where were we?
Mother’s Day.
Despite endlessly kidding Susan for mothering Griffin (Perhaps over-mothering?), I actually find it endearing. And our almond-eyed-butterscotch-furred best friend is thoroughly content with the arrangement.
“Hello, my love bug. Mama missed you,” Susan greets Griffin when he races up to meet her at the end of the day. His tail wags excitedly and he stretches his head upward, offering a nice slobbery kiss. “How did Mama get such a drooly boy?” she asks playfully as she wipes off her nose and cheek.
This year, I decided it was time to accept my bride’s dog mother instinct. No, I decided it was time to embrace it with a surprise gift or two. And the perfect gift? A symbol of our family, our home.
Rosslyn's boathouse (Artwork by Mary Wade)
Each winter Essex residents celebrate the holidays early during a weekend-long event called Christmas in Essex. It was this tradition which connected me to Mary Wade, a folk artist who lives in Willsboro but runs a seasonal gallery in Essex each summer. She creates painted wooden models, silhouettes and paintings of historic buildings in Essex that are collected by her fans all around the world.
Although I’d visited her shop in the past, it wasn’t until last December when Mrs. Wade was offering her artwork for sale during the Christmas in Essex event that we discussed Rosslyn inspired artwork. I spotted a painting of Rosslyn’s boathouse adorning a wooden box (see image) and asked her if she could make a birdhouse modeled on the same structure.
“I think so,” she said, considering. “I could do that.”
“What about a painting of Rosslyn?”
“Oh, sure. I’ve done that plenty of times, you know, all the Merchant’s Row houses.”
As soon as my bride was safely out of earshot, we began to conspire. Could she undertake both projects this winter? She could. And much more!
Last week I met her at home where she unveiled these whimsical renditions of Rosslyn and Rosslyn’s boathouse. The small painted silhouettes of the the boathouse were an extra, unanticipated when we made our plan last December. She got the idea while creating the birdhouse, and she liked it so much that she decided to make almost a dozen to share with her other collectors.
I suspected that the birdhouse would prove too valuable to submit it to its intended use, and Susan promptly confirmed my suspicions.
“What a perfect centerpiece!” she exclaimed arranging the miniature copy of Rosslyn’s boathouse in the center of our deck table to test out her theory. It was a great idea.
The beautiful painting of Rosslyn will likely be hung in the morning room where a growing collection of artist renderings of the quirky Eastlake inspired dockhouse adorn the walls. And for now, the silhouetted boathouse is in the screen porch. Until I convince her that it would be fun to have in the boathouse…
Building a drystack stone wall at Rosslyn, Essex on Lake Champlain
Yesterday, Thursday, May 15, 2009 was windier than a subway median at rush hour. Lake Champlain wind blasts reached 50 mph. The forecast had threatened gusts up to 90 mph. The rain drizzled off and on all day, but the fellow building the stone wall near the mud room stuck it out and got the job done.
This morning my bride interrupted me, frantic. She could only see one wind surfer on the on the boathouse dock. There had been two. Could the wind have blown it away? Possible, I supposed aloud, but unlikely.
I headed down and discovered that the older, larger Mistral sailboard was gone. Scanning the shoreline I spied it some two hundred feet north of the boathouse smashing against the rocks in heavy waves.
I couldn’t believe it. The wind had lifted it off the pier and deposited in the lake where it drifted until washing ashore. The wind! It’s a “vintage” sailboard at least a decade old. Huge. Heavy. A veritable aircraft carrier…
Yet there it was, getting splintered against the rocky shoreline.
I made my way north and climbed across the rocks. It was banged up pretty well, but still usable, though I figured it might be time to re-purpose it as a standup paddleboard.
I retrieved the board and made my way precariously back to the dock house, struggling to control the board in the still gusty wind. I was nearly blown off my feet several times before making it to the lawn.
Susan met me at the waterfront, and together we stored the Adirondack chairs inside the boathouse. I lashed the louvered doors shut because they’d blown open and wedged the sailboards in beside the chairs. The building moaned and the windows rattled against the wind gusts.
We headed back up to the house holding hands. The internet/television cable dangled from the pole where it had snapped and we counted two immense ash trees that had been knocked down in woods to the north of our front lawn. Leaves and branches were strewn all over the deck, driveway and lawn. An apple bough laden with blossoms lay on the grass.
After 24 hours our internet service was still down so I called the local company again for an update. A day later I showed the technician the dangling line. He’d been looking for about half an hour, walking around and using the hydraulic cherry picker on his van to lift him up for in-air surveillance on both sides of the road.
I collaborated with John Brookhouse of 1o’Clock Multimedia on this “long winded” but amusing Google Search vignette which was part of Redacting Rosslyn v1.0 at The Depot Theatre in Westport, New York in August 2011. Although I concepted the content and story arc, and even most of the search queries, Brookhouse was the video maestro who morphed my vision into a far more creative story than I could have managed on my own.
Google Assisted Renovation
Google as storytelling tool (Image via CrunchBase)
The idea of a digital story about the role the interwebs played in Rosslyn’s renovation had been with me for a while. Googleabove all others had been my constant companion, mentor, coach and materials source. I’m certain we couldn’t have successfully undertaken such an ambitious project with such limited experience, etc. in the pre-interwebs dark ages. Or even in the pre-Google days. Do you remember those days? Crinkly paper with sepia images locked up in libraries far away just when you need them most. Bleak.
Google Search Stories
Google Search Coupon: 1 FREE Google Search (Photo credit: Bramus!)
So the vision for the story had been composting in piles of typed words until I saw the inspired and inspiring “Parisian Love” video which was an instant viral sensation.
Finally I had a way to tell my story! I experimented with the Google Search Stories tool, creating a slew of clunky Rosslyn search videos. Soon I realized that I needed a collaborator with more sophisticated videography chops. Brookhouse was a patient and enjoyable collaborator. We’ll continue to work together in the future. Not only did he produce the clever video above for me to use in my performance, he helped educate me about video storytelling. At the time I was a video rote amateur. Now I’m just an amateur, in the French sense, a lover of video. Though I’m still a largely unskilled lover of video, I’ve begun to appreciate its nuances, limitations and unique storytelling potential.
Multimodal Storytelling
I’m especially intrigued with the interplay of traditional (oral) storytelling, print/text storytelling and digital storytelling. I believe we’re entering a time where we’ll see further and further blending of multimodal storytelling. This is especially exciting for me in the case of Rosslyn which includes years of photographs, drawings and a vast cast of engaging if somewhat eccentric characters. The opportunity to dilate this narrative beyond the limits of pages, books and oral storytelling is compelling. The opportunity for a more interactive storytelling matrix invites collaboration among many instead of one solitary writer scribbling away from the limited crow’s nest of his own head.
Thanks for diving into Rosslyn’s story. Together we’ll do her proud.
This video is one of several exploratory forays into the Google Search vignette I included in my Redacting Rosslyn v1.0 performance last August at The Depot Theatre in Westport, New York. Blending readings from my Rosslyn Redux manuscript with oral and digital storytelling, the event was a collaborative attempt to animate type, words and documents into interactive narrative.
I’ve discovered that building a book is a bit like rebuilding an old house. No matter how great the bones, how stunning the view, how well preserved the architecture and design, and no matter how clear and enticing the goal, you can’t do it by yourself.
In the case of our home it took the world’s most intelligent, beautiful and stubborn wife plus a vast community of contractors, carpenters, advisers, family and friends to rebuild Rosslyn. In the case of my book it will take your laughter, your sighs, your heckling (and even your prodding and booing and advising) to build Rosslyn Redux. (Redacting Rosslyn Redux » Rosslyn Redux)
I yearned for that creative tension that exists between live storyteller and audience. Oral narrative is by definition more dynamic, more elastic, more interactive than it’s written counterpart. Each live retelling differs as the storyteller responds to the audience, distilling the essentials and abandoning the rest. It’s the original crowd sourcing!
Suffice to say, this is an experiment, inviting readers and audience into the creative process, into the revision and redaction process. It could get very messy… (See you at Depot Theatre Tommorrow » Rosslyn Redux)
Of course, there’s another notable difference between typing stories and telling stories.
It’s funny. When I rehearse — aloud or in my head — my voice is Bourbon and caramel. Resonant. Enveloping… And then I hear a recording of myself or watch a video, and I’m certain the sound isn’t working properly. Bad mic? Is the equalizer busted? Probably the speakers are blown. I don’t have that pre-pubescent, one-dimensional voice that scurries for the rafters every few minutes. Really, I don’t.
I long for a deep, velvety radio disc jockey voice, but gargling Bourbon and caramel sauce so far hasn’t achieved the desired affect. And so it was a nice reprieve during my performance to clam up for a few minutes and let the video run sans voice.
Here’s another short video experimenting with the “Just Google it!” answer that I through at so many home renovation challenges between 2006 and 2009.
The lighthearted idea winding through this Google Search sequence is the impact that the renovation had had on us. As we wound down we discovered it was trickier to unwind ourselves… After four years of adrenaline charged, anxiety fueled DIY home renovation, my bride and I struggled to unlearn the survival skills we’d adapted.
I’ll post the final version of the video soon: Just Google it!
Rifle-ready aerating at Rosslyn (Image by virtualDavis, Fall, '11)
“Mornin’,” Wes said as he pulled the pantry door shut behind him and greeted Griffin with a scratch behind the ears.
“Good morning,” I called back from the kitchen where I was scrambling eggs.
“You don’t want me to run that thing on the tennis court, do ya?” he asked, referring to the lawn aerator we had rented in Plattsburgh the day before.
Wesley Hackett had been working for us since the spring of 2005. He’d been a member of the contracting team that renovated the Lapine House, and then we rolled him over to work on Rosslyn. When renovation was complete he stayed on as caretaker, quickly a becoming a jack of all trades who we relied upon heavily.
I’d wanted to revitalize our lawns, especially the front lawn where contractors had parked and pallets of material have been offloaded and stored throughout our endless renovation project. I was especially concerned about the compacted soil beneath the old ginkgo tree, the maple trees and the basswood.
But projects lead on to other projects, and it was the autumn of 2011 before we finally managed to rent an aerator to fill our lawns with small holes. The first step toward healthier grass and healthier trees.
“Good question, Wes. I didn’t think about that.” The clay tennis court probably dated back to Sherwood Inn days. It was located northwest of the ice house and had long since been converted into a perfectly level lawn suitable for crocket and volleyball when the weather was nice and a grassy pond when rainy days stacked up.
“I was just thinking about the clay, you know?”
“You’re probably right. You don’t want to get bogged down in clay. Let’s skip the tennis court and focus on whatever else remains around the carriage barn and back around the gardens.”
“That’s what I figured. Just thought I’d check.”
“Thanks for asking.”
“Oh, and by the way… Do you think you could advance me $300? I mean, you’ll probably be paying me tomorrow anyway, so I could pay you back.”
The day the gingko leaves fell (Image by virtualDavis)
I’d finished cooking and plating my eggs and was headed into the morning room to eat.
“It’s just the simple fact that Elvin wants to sell me his rifle ’cause he needs the money quick. It’s worth $1,500 easy, but, like I say, he needs the money, so…”
“Planning to get back into the woods?”
“A little bit. You know, some.” When Wes first started working for us he hunted for deer each fall, but several times over the last couple of years he’d mentioned that he really didn’t do it anymore.
“I’ll talk with Susan, but seems to me that it might just make sense to pay you early since we won’t be here Friday.”
“That’d be perfect. Maybe before lunch? I told Elvin I’d come by during lunch if I could do it.”
“I look at it as an excavation, if you will,” says the architect. (New England Home)
The architect, Pete Lackey of Charles Myer and Partners in Cambridge, Massachusetts, is referring to “taking the long view” on renovation, specifically to reawakening the heart and soul of a building instead of willfully or inadvertently altering it.
I wanted to touch and smell and hear Rosslyn in order to understand her… I wanted to ensure that we wouldn’t impose our own will haphazardly onto those of the house… I considered it arrogant to impose our dreams upon Rosslyn without first trying to understand her dreams. I wanted to listen to the old house, to hear what she was trying to tell us. (Reawakening Rosslyn)
In our case, understanding Rosslyn involved literally and figuratively excavating the historic home. During the fall/winter of 2006 a local excavator began disinterring the western end of the ell (addition) in order to identify and resolve the cause of major water to the house. This project was interrupted by the arrival of snow and resumed in the spring. By then we had seen enough of the subterranean foundation problems to redefine the water remediation scope of work. But the time we resumed excavation in the spring of 2007, the scope of the project had already mushroomed.
Excavating the perimeter of the house revealed generations of alterations and revisions, and it disclosed three distinct underground, gravity fed sources of water entering the basement. All three were originally part of a cistern and rain water collection system most likely dating back to the construction of the house in about 1820. They had been long since abandoned, but the terrra cotta pipes still delivered an endless flow of water into the basement beneath layers of rubble, debris, etc.
Excavating Rosslyn's Basement, Winter 2006
The most affected area of the house — the basement beneath our current living room — required hand excavation of thousands of pounds of clay and debris which had collected over two centuries. Three other men and I spent a long weekend working long days with picks, shovels and wheelbarrows to remove the material. Exhausting! And profoundly fulfilling.
In both of these cases the excavation exposed problems and solutions. In many other cases, especially those in which the excavations were less literal, the history and mystery of Rosslyn compounded before clarity or resolution emerged. In many cases, I still have more questions than answers.
Between 1820 and 2006, Rosslyn had been modified and updated and neglected and abbreviated so often that the house had become a puzzle of disconnected parts. We wanted to rediscover Rosslyn’s continuity, her wholeness. By digging through her basement and walls and a vast archive compiled by the previous owner we gradually deciphered most of her mysteries, permitting us to rehabilitate her in a fashion consistent with her heritage.
This quest underlies much of the Rosslyn Redux memoir, and I dabble a bit with the idea of archaeology and — more precisely – the idea of “archaeology of home” to help chronicle this quest. At least as much of my energy went into analyzing artifacts (bricked up window apertures, wallpaper clinging to walls buried behind newer walls, cracking photographs of Rosslyn discovered on eBay, sketches and drawings of original moldings and window details) as it did into hiring and supervising contractors.
It is this journey as much as the renovation story which I hope to communicate in my story, and with a little luck, it won’t take you as long to read it as it took my bride and me to live it… No promises!
Rosslyn boathouse, January 8, 2012 (Photo credit: Glenn Estus)
It’s time for another Rosslyn Roundup to share everything Rosslyn-related that I didn’t get a chance to post over the last few weeks. Champlain Valleysprings are unpredictable and exciting, sometimes arriving early (this year) and other times hiding behind rain, rain, rain (last year).
We’ve been celebrating our good fortune (quietly, with fingers crossed, while chewing on garlic cloves) that Spring 2012 has been considerably drier than Spring 2011. Remember the devastating Lake Champlain floods last year? For the better part of two months we experienced history making high water levels which inundated the Town of Essex and swamped Rosslyn boathouse under three feet of water for weeks on end. But we were lucky. Damage was minimal, and we recovered. Actually… we’re still recovering. Rebuilding the stone walls along the waterfront is ongoing, but that story for another blog post!
It’s a bit hard to believe that I launched the Rosslyn Redux blog just over a year ago. I’ve been finding my feet, trying to decide what goes into the book, what goes into the performance and what goes into the blog. I’m still filtering through artifacts and unadopted stories, but the most everything has fallen into place. The book (books? booklings?) are nearing their inevitable (and looong awaited) right of passage. And the blog, evolving in fits and starts has nevertheless averaged almost one post per week. Expect that rate to increase now that I’m in the homestretch with manuscripts.
Okay, enough bellybutton gazing. Well, almost enough. A couple of other interesting items to relay before plunging into the Rosslyn Roundup.
May Day was the busiest day on the blog ever! In addition to “Reawakening Rosslyn” which drew record readers, there were many people who showed up a day late to read “Old Glory & Mud Season“. The combination of these two posts included a magic elixir… If only I knew what it was! Please don’t hesitate to share your preferences for future posts, and I’ll do my best to honor your wishes.
I have to admit that I was pretty thrilled with the reception that “Reawakening Rosslyn” received. You may have already figured that it’s a central theme in the story of our epic home and property rehabilitation.
Less surprising, my post about cartoonist Sid Couchey was also well received. Proof that whether we all admit it or not, we all love cartoons! And if you ever met my Essex friend and neighbor, you’d love Couchey too. He will remain a local legend for many years to come. I feel fortunate each time I pass Couchey’s painting of Rosslyn boathouse which hangs in our morning room. I’ve decided that the fellow chatting with Champy — the Lake Champlain monster — at the end of the boathouse pier is the cartoonist himself. I’m listening carefully and hoping to hear the joke that they’re sharing.
Okay, about that roundup… Did you see that spooky photograph of Rosslyn boathouse at the top of this post? Spectacular. Eerie. The image is called “Essex, NY Boathouse #3” and it was shot on January 8, 2012 by local photographer, Glenn Estus. We have several of his photographs hanging on the walls at Rosslyn, and you can see plenty more in his Flickr feed if your interested.
Speaking of photographs, check out the new Rosslyn Redux board on Pinterest to see a growing collection of Rosslyn photographs shared by people all over the globe. Add your own photos, and I’ll heap praise and accolades upon you.
And you’ll find more photographs by me and others on the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page which has grown steadily in membership over the last year. If you’re not already a friend of the forthcoming Rosslyn Redux memoir, now’s the time. Please friend the page and feel free to share your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you.
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