Hay Season

That smell is in the air.


Hill farm hayfields,gouache

Especially at dawn and dusk I smell fresh cut grass. Along the highways and back roads the fields are striped with swaths of it, lying in fluffed, pillowed rows.


In my Champlain Valley neighborhood the flat bottom land allows for long, easy to mow hayfields.



Cornwall Farm/watercolor

Freshly cut, the alfalfa, trefoil and grasses lie flat, but before this grass become hay it is handled many times. It is wuffled by the tedder, raked into windrows, and finally baled or rolled or stacked for storage.


Hay rolls/watercolor

Is it Home Yet?

I hate moving.

In the past 16 months I have moved my mother twice and myself five times. One would think I’d gain mad organization skills and each move would be easier, but no.

Somehow I managed to get everything mixed up and scattered and actually bought a few new things to add to the pile. Now I am moving from a rental into my new, not-close-to-done, year-round house in Vermont. I’m not going to share current pictures of the chaotic process.  These vintage watercolor paintings from 1988 will have tell the story.