Just an Old Bag

It's not just any old bag mind you, but a special gift from a dear friend. This old handbag has my name on it. And when Bethany found it at a local estate sale, she knew I just had to have it. The previous owner, another Marjorie, adorned the front with our name in various colors and lettering styles. It seems she was a bit of a frustrated artist too. Over the years she lovingly mended the plastic trim with black electrical tape, in an effort to replicate the faux black plastic trim. This funky old bag is a reminder of just who I am, and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

With a bag full of love and gratitude,
Marjorie

Back in the Hammock Again!

Not quite a lady of leisure! But settling in nicely with mother and cat at the lake.

A Gift from the Finger Lakes

Savoring the Season,
Marjorie

Diving into Summer at the Lake!

We've packed our bathing costumes, and headed East to the Scenic Finger Lakes Region of Upstate New York State, (where it ready feels like Summer!)

I am here for a few months, and will be reporting on some of the Region's shops, flea markets, antique shows, restaurants and wineries, as well as the return of a furry guest from last year's visit.

Everything is going swimmingly so far...except, that is, my antiquated computer dial-up connection. Got to love it!

Marjorie

Camp or Cottage?

Our lakeside summer home has always been ~ "the Cottage".

When Aunt Margaret married Uncle Bob, and went to live in Vermont, she quickly adopted his way of calling the family cabin in the woods ~ "Camp".

Being an Easterner transported to California, I was thrilled to discover a shop in near-by Carmel Valley devoted to Camp and Cottage Lifestyle.

So, whenever I would get homesick, I would put on pink Minnetonka moccasins, and head out to Carmel Valley for a fix.

An old clunker of a truck was always parked out front of the shop, which consisted of a conplex of red clapboard farm sheds, which contained Molly's eccletic collection of: Adirondack, Twig and Hickory furniture; worn brown leather club chairs; primitive oil paintings;

Beacon and Hudson Bay blankets;

Feedsack pillows with colorful graphics, canoe paddles;

Skookum dolls; rustic lighting; birchbark souvenirs; baskets; vintage turquoise and silver trade pieces;

and other sundry trinkets. Tiny balsam bags with the scent of the forest were a popular take -home item.

The shop and yard are now empty, and a sign is posted which announces that the owner, Molly, has moved South. Come September, I see a road trip in my future.

Savoring my last few sunsets by the lake,

Marjorie

"Stars" on Seneca Lake

With blue skies above and the wind in your sails, whether you're in a "Star" or a "Comet", the sailing is keen sport on Seneca Lake.

Still Riding the Waves,
Marjorie

Fish Tales

Greetings from the Finger Lakes, Seneca Lake and

"The Lake Trout Capitol of the World"!

Big Fish and Little Fish - At the Cottage, Seneca Lake

Catching Up,
Marjorie

P.S. Handwritten caption on the back of this old photo postcard reads:
A part of the catch at Highgate Sprgs
Aug 20 '12, by Mrs. Hepburn and Walter.
More than 200 fish caught, only 92
strung here. Total weight 60 pounds.
Not a fish wasted: eight families supplied.

Our Sheldrake Wins "Top-100" Winery Award

Twelve years ago, we gathered in the field of a former dairy farm, high above Cayuga’s waters, in the Finger Lakes region of Upstate New York. We were: a viticulturalist, an interior designer, a professor, two IT professionals, and me, the great-granddaughter of a pioneering American grape-grower*. Each of us planted a grapevine in honor of the inauguration of our new winery/vineyard venture, Sheldrake Point Vineyard, while an Abenaki Native American blessed the sight.

Here I am with our Winery Manager

Partners have come and gone, but our vision has remained the same, to respect and integrate the uniqueness of the Finger Lakes region, pursue the best sustainable viticultural practices, make the highest quality wine that the grapes and weather will permit, and offer our visitors a memorable experience.

None of us could have dreamed of the day when Sheldrake would be named one of the "Top-100 Wineries in the World" by Wine & Spirits magazine.

On October 14, 2009, three of us (my husband and I, and Bob, the Winery’s general manager) presented our wines at the Magazine's gala tasting event, amidst the splendor of the Galleria at the San Francisco Design Center.

There we were, standing shoulder to shoulder with the most iconic wine brands from around the world.


The Finger Lakes is known for its Riesling, and we showcased our best: a 2007 Dry Riesling and a 2007 Riesling Ice Wine. The ice wine is made according to Canadian standards, for example, the berries are harvested when it is below 15 degrees F. This wine has won many awards, including the "Best Riesling in North America" at the Hyatt International Riesling Chalenge, and has also been served at the White House.


Aside from receiving the “Top-100” honor, many other things stand out about the evening:

• Having my first taste of Cristal champagne (after waiting in line with the hoards of their groupies);


• Chatting with Prue Henschke (from Henschke Winery in the Barossa Valley of Australia), which made us homesick for the beautiful wines and the wonderful people of the land down-under;
  
• Getting a chance to meet the winemaker from Ridge, and sampling his famous Monte Bello Cabernet, which won the Judgement of Paris Rematch in 2006;


• Talking with the charming young representative from Fonseca, (a member of the Symington family, one of the oldest Port houses);


• Seeing Craggy Range from New Zealand, a picturesque winery in Hawke’s Bay on the North Island, where we stayed in their luxe ‘bach’ guest house among the vines;




• Sampling food from the many chefs, restaurants and provisioners. The most popular being Hog Island Oysters, which was perfectly sited in the Champagne and sparkling wine section.

Wish you had been there!

Salute,
Marjorie

*Wine and grapes are in my blood. My great-grandfather, Theodore Sedgwick Hubbard (1843-1906), established his nursery; T.S. Hubbard Co., in Fredonia, NY in 1866. Considered a leading authority on grapes in the world, at one time he propagated over a 100 different native grape vines, and sold rootstock all over the US and abroad. His grapes won awards at the Louisiana Purchase Exhibition, 1904, and in 1915 the received the Wilder Award from the American Pomological Society. Last summer, I walked the NY Ag Station experimental vineyard in Geneva, NY with a scientist who showed me a big purple, blue grape - named after my grandfather, the Hubbard grape. How proud I was!

The Time of Falling Leaves

Back home in the Finger Lakes it is the time of falling leaves. It is a time when all the landscape seems touched by a broad Indian paint brush - gold, orange, and red. This land was once the hunting grounds of the great Seneca chiefs, Red Jacket and Cornplanter.

At the lake, September was always the time to close the cottage for the winter. Overhead flocks of migrating geese would honk their way down the lake, as the grown-ups busied themselves shutting off the water and taking in the boat dock. We kids had other things on our minds. We carefully raked, and laid out the rooms of leaf houses. Later in the day, we piled the leaves into high stacks - just right for running leaps and jumps, or for playing hide and seek. When it got close to dark, my father would rake it all together and set it alight. Together we would watch as fragrant burnt leaf offerings made their way into the night sky.


In town, we kids skipped down the side walks of tree-named streets: Oak, Chestnut, Elm and Maple. Our eyes were ever on the lookout for that perfect leaf specimen, to pin onto Mrs. Collins’ bulletin board. My secret retreat in those early years was the ancient grape arbor at the back of the house. Tucked under its leafy blanket, the scent of ripening grapes foretold the coming harvest, and I would dream of carefree days of apple orchards, homemade cider and moonlit hayrides.

Many leaves later, I am still at it. Each autumn a leaf-longing overtakes me. I keep watch for the first leaves drifting to earth, always searching for that special one.

Still Skipping,
Marjorie

Rocky Shores

The rocky shoreline of Seneca Lake (in New York’s Finger Lakes region) has been the playground for generations of my family. Many happy childhood hours were spent collecting beach glass, shells, and driftwood. The glaciers which made the Lakes have left endless deposits of shale and stones. At the water’s edge, we would amuse ourselves by scribbling secret messages on miniature slates, searching the cliffs for fossils, holding stone skipping competitions, and digging snug harbours for our tiny boats. For a treat, Grandfather Parrott would take us for a ride in the old green wooden rowboat. “Row, row, row your boat” we would sing as we made our way up the Lake to view the “shower bath” waterfall at High Banks and the mysterious Cudjo’s Cave. We would sit in the boat shivering and looking at the Cave as Grandfather would whisper “Those that go in never come out!”

Lately, we have been bringing the shore to the cottage garden. Carrying pails of lake stones up the stairs from the beach to the cottage, we have been able to create a shale footpath. Shalestone Vineyards just down the Lake is a testament to the excellent stone terroir for grape growing and wine making.

The shores of Cayuga Lake, our neighbouring lake, are one of the few places where “Lucky Stones” can be found. These are rocks with fossil worm holes. Our friend, Florence, a plucky eighty-year old, makes a living combing the beach for these fossilized treasures. Legend has it that they bring good luck to anyone who finds one.

Sheldrake Point, on Cayuga Lake, seems to be epicenter for discovering these stone amulets. Several years ago we considered buying a charming shingle-style house there named “Lucky Stone Lodge”. You entered under a rustic arch with the name of the property worked in sticks. The owner of this unique house had been a prominent geologist, and the Lodge was packed with amazing collections from the natural world – strings of Lucky Stones hung by the fireplace, and other geological wonders were displayed everywhere. Trophies from the material world, included walls decorated with the lids of antique porcelain chamber pots. The editors of the World of Interiors would have loved it! This is a place that remains in my dreams. Sheldrake Point Vineyard is nearby, and they honor the local geology with a full-bodied wine named “Lucky Stone Red”.

Bonne Chance!
Marjorie

A Thoreau Summer

These long hot summer days remind me of the old hammock at the family cottage in the Finger Lakes. A relic of WWI, the hammock was brought back by my maternal grandfather. It was made of heavy grey canvas with dark letter stenciling. We kids spent hours swinging in it, and designing ever-more daring acrobatic feats.

This summer I have vowed to take some time in a hammock: to rock, to read, to think, and to sip some of Aunt Betty’s mint tea. Thoreau said it best in the following excerpt from his Journal:

I go forth to make new demands on life. I wish to begin this summer well; to do something in it worthy of it and me, to transcend my daily routine and that of my townsmen; to have my immortality now, that it be in the quality of my daily life…. I pray that the life of this spring and summer may ever lie fair in my memory. May I dare as I have never done! May I persevere as I have never done! May I purify myself anew as with fire and water, soul and body! May my melody not be wanting to the season! May I find myself to be a hunter of the beautiful, that naught escape me! May I attain to a youth never attained! I am eager to report the glory of the universe. May I be worthy to do it; to have got through with regarding human values, so as not to be distracted from regarding divine values.

Savor your summer,
Marjorie