houses, Barrio Viejo, Tucson

Ten days back in the cool sensible northeast, and it's just a memory--brilliant heat and colors, the strangeness of cactus, the proliferation of taquerias. The sense of space--I could drive north into the Navajo Nation, the Grand Canyon, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana; or east into New Mexico and Texas--big open places that make New England seem charming and quaint, which is not a bad thing, just different.

windows, Barrio Viejo

The Barrio Viejo (old neighborhood) in Tucson is filled with charming adobe houses painted the colors of Easter eggs and Jordan almonds. Tucson is only an hour's drive from Mexico, and that influence is everywhere--food, architecture, music, art, clothes... I was in heaven with a taqueria on every corner. People were very friendly too. I took a lot more pictures of the houses, and will post them another time.

I can't decide if I want a lime green house with pink trim, or a pink house with lime green trim. And a yellow door. (And if the house is pink, what shade?)

See a great slideshow of colorful towns here.

charming houses, secret gardens

 Provincetown is filled with pretty gardens and houses.

See the bird at the birdhouse?

Houses on alleys and paths 

and behind other houses.

I'm sort of stunned at how much I loved Provincetown. 

in Provincetown

Snapshots from my trip to Provincetown. A magical place--I've fallen under the spell...

Will write more about it soon.

Thanks to Steve from An Urban Cottage for tips on the many art galleries.

cats, books & cottages

Life imitates art.

The snow is dirty, the trees are bare, and I'm going searching for light.

 Florida, actually. I'm leaving the day after Jane returns.

I'm looking forward to sun and flowers and bright colors.

I want a pink cottage. Or maybe a white cottage with pink flowers. And a porch.

Don't worry--there's a strong screen in the window.

My winter has been filled with cats and books. If you're looking for a fun easy read, I recommend Mr. Penumbra's 24-hour Bookstore. If you like mysteries featuring eccentric villagers and a kindly detective, I recommend Louise Penny's Chief Inspector Armand Gamache series. Still Life is the first one. I'm up to the fifth and they keep getting better. They make me want a stone cottage in Quebec City or the (fictional) village of Three Pines, with plenty of hollyhocks and English roses.

What color cottage do you want?

Thoreau's cabin

I wrote about Thoreau's cabin in the early days of this blog. Rather than repeat, you can see that post here, and this post will focus on the site. When I visited Walden Pond last week (here) I saw the site of the original cabin. It's on a slope above the pond. Thoreau, grieving from the loss of his brother, decided he wanted to live a simple life in the woods and write a book. He was 27 when he built the cabin (in 1845) on land owned by his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson.

This is the view today from the cabin site. He wrote his first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers while living there, as well as the first draft of Walden, his most well-known book.

 Stones mark where the cabin was originally thought to be, though later study sited it a short distance away. It was solitary, but not remote. He often walked into the village of Concord (less than 2 miles away) to visit friends and family.

I love these little sculptures built by visitors. 

They make me think of Scottish cairns. 

There are some in the water too. I saw a couple of teenage girls working on this one.

Thoreau studied nature closely, and started writing his journals while living at the cabin. The journals, which he wrote for the rest of his life, are filled with detailed observations of nature, and are used by scientists today. (See here.) It is said that he built the cabin to find a home and to find himself. It seems that he did both.

The cabin has inspired many people to build reproductions. You can see Thoreau's original list of building materials here. This company will build one for you, or sell you a kit so you can do it yourself. 

By the time I completed my walk around Walden Pond, I decided I need to build a little cabin in the Catskills. I think that will remain a fantasy. If you have small cabin fantasies you will enjoy this site. 

Jen

Cape Cod weekend

A cottage by the sea.

Pink roses everywhere.

That is the house I dream of.

The air smells of wild roses, hydrangeas, and salt air.

A day at the beach segued to an evening Cape League baseball game. (A league of the best college players, memorialized in the wonderful book, The Last Best League.) The stands were full; suntan lotion, bug spray and grilling hotdogs threaded the scent of the ocean breeze. Children and dogs ran around, cell phones were ignored and the crowd stayed until the very end, because it was that rare kind of evening, one you want to remember when the phones start ringing again.

 The ocean was everything it's supposed to be.

I walked for hours, and was rewarded by the playful antics of dozens of seals. My little pocket camera wasn't up to the task, but trust me, they were captivating. If you click on the picture you'll get a better glimpse of one of them.

Is there a house you dream of?

Jen