GREEN APPLES

February 23, 2017

The blast of Granny Smith chartreuse steals attention from the time-worn feed bin below. As written on the back, it is a gift from my great grandfather Frank Wheeler in 1888 to Lucie Howe Brigham, his bride from the farm next door. Both their homes, the Anderson-Wheeler and the Brigham Farms still stand today out at Nine Acre Corner (Rte. 117) in the Sudbury corner of Concord. The former supplies fresh produce to Main Streets Market & Cafe in Concord Center which for a century has been and continues to be Anderson family run. (www.mainstreetsmarketandcafe.com). The Brigham Farmstand is a rewarding destination with fruit, vegetables, herbs and flowers grown on the property by sixth generation Brighams. (www.brighamfarmconcord.com)
Family legacies are priceless treasures which demand more unwavering love and labor than most can imagine. Seek out these gems with an appreciation of all that goes into carrying family businesses over generations. The beautiful box reminds what a thoughtful gift truly is and it reminds me of the incredible work my cousins do.

Information is available on the websites listed above as well as at the Concord Public Library Special Collections.

MEMORIAL DAY ON THE FARM

May 28, 2016

Eirene, one of my grandmother's five sisters took time toward the end of her life to write out memories of growing up on the farm in Concord, MA. She paints a clear picture of life in the early nineteen hundreds. A favorite entry of mine is the description of Memorial Day.

"Memorial Day was prepared for early as wreaths were made for our loved ones and also for the earlier war veterans. … For days before, we were busy gathering ground pine, wild flowers, lilac if it was in bloom and then all had busy fingers, making the wreath frames and then putting the flowers or whatever we gathered on the wreath frames. A wreath and a new flag was placed on each veteran’s grave and then the cannons were fired.
Those early days before the advent of our car in 1911, we always went to the services in the horse-drawn carriage with the fringe around the top. The parade was always impressive, all the Civil War, Spanish American War veterans who were able to march did, the rest rode. The wreaths were laid on the graves in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery … and on to the Catholic Cemetery where the wreath laying was repeated. The cannons were fired in salute.
When all graves had been decorated, the parade returned to the village green, where taps was played, two buglers, one in the band and one as an echo from the hill by the Catholic Church and old cemetery. That was a moving part of the day."

Decades later, Memorial Day took on different importance to our family. MORE

COLLECTING

February 2, 2016

Why stuff your pockets with lucky rocks? If you are a collector, especially of free treasures strewn on nature's paths, you know the impulse. These are divine scraps tossed down from the Olympian banquet to your very feet.

The shore of Lake Champlain at Shelburne is lined with millions of black stones with veins of white, each different. Of the visible millions, a few leap out and catch a roving eye. The crunch of a glacier eons ago left them with a surprisingly organized or appealing design. Will pocketing bring the magic home? And why on earth photograph a lucky rock? If collecting is to have and hold the magic, rendering by any medium is to preserve, show and broadcast.

Rock portraits have a curious appeal especially when the artifacts themselves are present. They were a draw at a recent exhibit. Some viewers wondered if I had painted the design or if the rocks were for sale. The display triggered thoughts and tales of their own collecting or simply triggered their own sense of wonder. Job done! Art, even at this ephemeral level, reorients the eyes to nature's magic. It's the job of the lucky rocks, and their portraits, to evoke wonder.

For a selection of framed lucky rock portraits, visit the shop.

HARVEST RESTAURANT, circa 1980

January 1, 2016

Roger, the french host and one of the Harvest icons of the day, mingles with staff.

A cast of characters circling around a time and place can coalesce into a unit that lingers beyond the moment. The Harvest Restaurant, circa 1980, lives clearly in the memories of those customers who clustered around the smoky bar each night or partook of the unique dining experience. The chefs and sous chefs were part of an exploding Foodie scene in Boston and now lead restaurants themselves. The wait staff were artists, dancers, writers by day and a service team / tight friends at night. Thirtyfive years later, it is easy to bring to mind the three groups that became a happily dependent unit in a particular time and place.

While kelly green is not my color, the form fit marimekko vests, as worn by Harvest staff, seemed the height of fashion when I first saw them through teary eyes at a post break-up lunch in 1980. I envied the confident sophistication of the waitresses. I rushed to get an application and became a Harvest waitress, serving an obligatory year as barmaid before graduating to the rarified air of the "dining room." Slugging it out in the jammed bar or meeting the refined standards of the dining room sealed a bond among workers: the magic of the green vest.

In those two years, I photographed typical days as well as tasting events and staff parties, (none better than cruising around Boston Harbor to the tunes of Room Full of Blues.) It was not an assignment, just an impulse. Whether I was using the camera as a shield or simply to record the surrounding group, is moot and likely both. The photos amplify the memories. After thirty-five years and on the fortieth anniversary of the Harvest, it is a good time to share. Kudos to Jane and the late Ben Thompson.