~ Raining Violets ~

When April comes around, my landlord's yard turns into a sea of violets. Because the lawn is chemical free, these lovely little plants with their delicate leaves and deep indigo blossoms cover the ground like a magic carpet.

This beautiful sight never fails to awaken my foraging instinct. Last year, I spent days picking the blossoms to make candied violets. This year, I resurrected a recipe for violet jelly from an ancient herbalist handbook and transformed my violet harvest into four jars of shimmering amethyst sweetness. Using a double measure of violet petals made the infusion extra fragrant with a deep violet color. This recipe calls for the petals only which must be plucked by hand from each blossom. The last flower denuded of its petals found my fingers stained purple with the abundant pigment these blossoms hold.



The color was so lovely, I decided to experiment with a cookie recipe, incorporating the infusion into the dough and pressing the petals into the tops of the cookies. The results were gratifying. The violet flavor was subtle, but distinctly floral, and combined nicely with the fine texture of this particular cookie. I brought some to my favorite taste testers, the librarians at Sandwich Library, for their critique .



Today, while picking up some audio books I had requested, Rebbecca returned the plate in which I delivered the Violet cookies last Saturday. I asked if she liked them, but she hadn't tasted them. Saturday was her day off. She said they were a big hit and disappeared fast. Upon returning home, I gathered more violets to make another batch of cookies for the lovely librarians who didn't get to taste them last week... anything for an excuse to gather flowers and bake.

My Mushroom Mascot

The death of my beloved Sierra left a hollow space in my heart. For me, life without a canine companion is empty. Fortunately, my landlord's dog, Sheamus, was more than pleased to fill the void with his delightful company. Every time I took him along for a ride through the state forest, I would spot some good edible mushrooms from the road. For blessing me with "mushroom luck", Seamus became my "Mushroom Mascot".


Sniff...sniff.. This one will do nicely in an omelet.



Sheamus meets wild turkeys.
An intense moment... stand-off between dog and bird. The energy of this meeting was electric! Always the perfect little gentledog, Sheamus checked his instinct to chase. The turkeys, too, kept their distance, but interest was high on both sides. As Sheamus inched closer, the turkeys grew wary, strutting off into the woods.



Heading home... with a basket full of honeys and bluets.



Honey Mushrooms
I picked pounds of honeys nearly every day for weeks. No need to walk through the woods to spot these. They were so prolific, you couldn't miss them from the road running through the state forest. I've never seen (or gathered) so many honeys in this area before.



A small hen-of-the-woods...
One day's growth fit nicely in the palm of my hand. I could have left this another few days to grow larger, but it was so perfectly fresh, I decided to cut it while it was still undiscovered by insects.


The last and largest of 2009.
The season's last hen weighed in at 8 lbs... not very large compared to those many foragers find in other areas, but it was in perfect condition and 8 lbs. is a lot of mushroom to clean, and enough to make mushroom lasagna, mushroom pizza, mushroom strata, all shared with the Forest Rangers at Shawme-Crowell who are my favorite "taste testers" and always willing to sample my mushroom concoctions.



Mushroom eye candy.
Top: Pink Fruiting Lichen -Bottom: Turkey Tails & Lichen growing on a stump.

Oyster Mushrooms

Sheamus brought me mushroom luck yesterday. On our ride from the Sandwich Transfer Station (aka the town dump) into Sandwich Village, I caught sight of this tree in my peripheral vision adorned with clusters of oyster mushrooms!

Most of them were prime specimens... not yet invaded by insect infestation. With a special tool stored in my trunk for such finds, I filled my basket with these delectable fungi. The "special tool" is a telescoping poll fitted with a small wire basket, used to fish golf balls out of the drink. It's perfect for dislodging mushrooms found growing at lofty heights.

The best way to use the wild oyster mushrooms, especially the larger specimens, is to boil them for 10 minutes until they lose their fragile texture. Then the skin is removed and they can be frozen to use in recipes or simply sauteed with butter and garlic. These oyster mushrooms make the most delicious cream of mushroom soup.


I was so pleased to spot this wealth of fungi on the roadside, as I am no longer able to walk in the woods to forage properly. I think Sheamus brought me luck!

Dog for a Day

Meet Sheamus... My Dog for a Day

Since losing my beloved Sierra in May, my life has been devoid of love and warmth. I thought about adopting another elderly cocker spaniel, but hesitate because my health is poor. Adoption is a serious commitment.

Fortunately for me, my landlord has a lovely little well -behaved male Westie who just LOVES riding in the car! Sheamus has become my "Dog for a Day". Whenever I feel up to having him visit or keep me company when I run errands, Sheamus jumps at the opportunity to venture out with his Auntie Lu.

Sheamus is an intelligent little boy.. a real pleasure. He sits in the front seat (something I could not allow Sierra to do as it was impossible to keep her off my lap while driving, so she sat in back like a little queen.)

Dogs are sensitive to human frailty and disability. Sheamus knows instinctively that I do not have the strength to hold him if should he exert his considerable strength and pull me around at the end of his leash. He is the perfect little gentleman and brings joy to my life.

Although he cannot replace the emptiness in my heart that a canine companion of my own can fill, his presence is a gift which only a gentle, loving dog can give.

Sheamus & I enjoy an outing at Shawme-Crowell State Forest

A Good Father of the Feathered Kind

A bright sight on this gray and rainy day... A male cardinal feeding his young offspring. This male is caring for two males and one female. Parents continue to feed chicks for 25 to 56 days after they fledge from the nest.

The young bird flutters its wings in food-begging fashion...

This Cardinal continues to feed his young even after they have grown almost as large as he.

What could be more heart warming than this sight on a dreary day...just outside my door.

House Mouse - Our Daily Routine

Mouse Freedom from Lucille on Vimeo.

The same mouse has been in this trap 3 times in the past week. I know it's him, because he has a white mark on his head :-)

This mouse thinks the trap is his feeding station :-) In a way, I suppose it is. The same mouse (I recognize him by a white marking on his head) has been in this trap at least 3 times in the past week. Last night I found him in there before I had a chance to bait it with peanut butter. We go through the same drill each time. I get to take a close look at him (he's adorable!) and he gets to eat his peanut butter and find his way back into my apartment.

Surprise visit

She landed...

The birds which regularly visit my feeders are mostly small birds, with blue jays and mourning doves weighing in on the large side to finches and hummingbirds at the small end of the scale.

Occasionally, a crow or two will make an appearance, but not very often. Imagine my surprise when this turkey landed to check out what was on offer for dinner! Unfortunately, she found nothing to her liking. Cracked corn is now on my shopping list. Hopefully, she will honor me with another visit.

She investigated...

She flew off into the sunset.

Opossum for Breakfast

Morning Possum from Lucille on Vimeo.

Look at those marvelous ears! Her pink feet!

A magnificent creature, the opossum!

Winter Solstice

Snow Song

Snow Song from Lucille on Vimeo.

My friend Mary Anne, sent me a lovely floral basket for Christmas. It was full of fresh flowers and beautiful evergreens. It graced my apartment for weeks, and when the flowers died, the evergreens were still fresh, but starting to drop some leaves from being indoors.

I put the basket on my deck where my feathered friends congregate each day to dine. The birds love this basket, as this little wren seems to be singing in appreciation!

Finch Rescue - December 2005

Finch Rescue - Dec. 19, 2005 - Sandwich, Massachusetts from Lucille on Vimeo.

Finch Rescue - Dec. 19, 2005 - Sandwich, Massachusetts

The Squirrel-Proof Bird Feeder

The Squirrel-Proof Bird Feeder from Lucille on Vimeo.

There's a feisty squirrel in every yard! This one managed to coax a few seeds out of this feeder, but it did prevent his feasting on its entire contents in a single day, as he did with the feeder below, which he treated as his own private feeding station.

I still use this feeder, but it is now filled with safflower seeds, which the birds like, but squirrels do not.

Thanksgiving Dinner - Hens & Chickens, No Turkey, please!

My idea of Thanksgiving dinner, courtesy of wild bounty foraged from Shawme-Crowell State Forest - Sandwich, Massachusetts.

Vegetarian Thanksgiving - Hens & Chickens, but No Turkey, please! from Lucille Iacovelli on Vimeo.

Oyster Mushrooms Growing Wild

I found a tree stump covered with oyster mushrooms weighing about 10 lb. After cleaning, I photographed them before subjecting them to the frying pan and freezer. They are infinitely fascinating.
The detail photos were taken with the fungi placed on a light box used for reading x-rays. The vivid colors were obtained with photo editing software.

Struck my funny bone!

Birthday greeting from my dear friend:

The pen bit .... priceless! I could just see (and hear) Dianne as the first pen ran dry and she searched for another while Tigger and Sasha meow " Purrr Mommy", swish their tails and turn up their noses at the 10th kind of gourmet/prescription cat food she's tried to entice them with that day. I don't want more birthdays... I would much rather reincarnate ASAP and return as one of Dainne's beloved cats!

Another delightful birthday surprise...

A magnificent Birthday Bouquet from my dear friend Mary Anne, Detail of some individual blossoms- Beauty within beauty, reflecting itself again and again...

Having all the ingredients on hand, I baked a birthday cake, winging it as I went along, as is usual when I am in experimental baking mode. Peter, a ranger at Shawme-Crowell State Forest, (where all my favorite mushrooms grow) would celebrate his birthday on the 19th, the day after mine, so I baked this cake with him in mind. I should have measured and written down the ingredients, because this gingerbread-pumpkin-cocoa pound cake studded with walnuts, dried cranberries, dark chocolate chips and preserved ginger turned out to be one of my best experimental creations. Frosted with a thin glaze of dutch & black cocoa, confection sugar, a pinch each of cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, allspice and thinned down with Marsala and a drop of orange oil...the deep, dark flavor perfectly compliments the not-too-sweet gingerbread richly textured with the addition of the pumpkin. It's a very October cake.. a Libra cake. My decorating skills are a bit rusty, but passable. (Those are supposed to be mushrooms at the bottom of the cake, as Peter christened me "The Mushroom Lady" when I first began foraging at Shawme-Crowell.)

Sunday afternoon just before the 4 PM "changing of the guards", I headed over to the State Forest. As I drove through the entrance and immediately noticed the little station was empty and not a vehicle in sight, I realized my mistake. After October 16, rangers are there only certain days and hours, as this is the start of the off-season.

The cake is in my freezer now. I left a message at the ranger station, but if I don't hear from them by next week, the cake will end up as coffee break fare for the folks at the Sandwich Library.

Update: Peter did get his cake!

My Nocturnal Visitor

The little deck just just outside my kitchen door has been a favorite dining spot of local fauna since I have lived in this flat and began
feeding the birds. Birds flit in and out from dawn to dusk. Squirrels and chipmunks come right up to the door, demanding more seeds, more peanuts.. all day long. Wild turkeys have come to feed in the yard below for the first time this year.

Occasionally, a stray or neighbors' pet cats will stealthily climb the stairs, attracted by the busy avian traffic. The felines, though rarely make a return visit, as my dog has "cat radar" and barks nonstop at the hint of a meow. My visitors have become so accustomed to my presence that they no longer scamper or fly away when I cross the threshold from my space to theirs. There is something wondrous about wild creatures accepting you as a natural part of their existence.. They bestow a benediction and bless my life with beauty, grace and joyful antics.

After nightfall, the raccoons wreak havoc out there...clumsily tipping over flower pots and rooting around in the plants for leftovers the daytime diners have overlooked. For a while, I replenished the seeds and peanuts just after dark especially for these hungry critters until they became overly rambunctious, drawing attention from neighbors who take a different view of my visitors than I, considering them "pests". Sadly, they prefer television to the real life drama put on by Mother Nature just outside their window.

Recently, a new nocturnal visitor came upon the scene. Late one night my dog began pacing back and forth by the door, beckoning me to take a look. I turned on the dim outdoor light and there was an opossum! He froze as still as a statue the moment he found himself in the spotlight. I had rudely interrupted his sunflower seed snack. I stepped outside and expected him to scurry away. Instead, he remained completely still. Even his eyes were fixed as if hypnotized. As I inched closer and closer, he remained in place.

Finally, when I stood about 2 feet away with the camera held bit closer, he moved his head slightly as his eyes darted from side to side as if contemplating flight. He remained still long enough for me to get a good look at him, and he was a lovely creature! His face was beautiful.. especially his eyes. Feeling guilty about disturbing his meal, I took my pictures and retreated back into my flat, turning off the light. After a minute, he resumed his munching. I will never forget the sight of those dark and beautiful eyes, his delicately featured face, his little pink nose and feet..his white-tipped ears... and his tail! I waited for his return the following evening, but he has not been back..not that I am aware. Who knows how many enchanting creatures visit unobserved?

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

I am grateful, though, that this opossum found something worth his venture up my stairs for a midnight snack!

Fragrant Fungi

September 15, 2007 The Black Trumpet is often ignored by foragers in my neck of the woods. It is easy to overlook these incredibly fragrant fungi because here on Cape Cod, they rarely grow large enough to make them worth hunting. They are difficult to spot on the forest floor because their appearance so closely resembles brown, fallen leaves. This very thin and fragile fungi only last one or two days at most before they shrivel up into hard, coal black pieces of debris. What these delicate mushrooms lack in size and substance, they make up for in flavor. Their unique characteristics make them easy to differentiate from poisonous types. I rarely find many of these in a season... perhaps enough to grace an omelet at best. The Black Trumpet has an affinity for egg dishes, transforming a simple omelet or a few scrambled eggs into special dish with an unforgettable flavor and aroma. I could hardly believe my eyes when I spotted these tiny trumpets emerging from a large patch of moss growing along the roadside within the state forest. I stopped the car to take a closer look, and found enough trumpets to keep me on my knees in the moss until the area was picked clean. Wild fungi should be gathered with care. They should be cut flush with the ground with a knife rather than pulled out of the ground. This causes the least disturbance to the mycelium in the soil. Only pull when you absolutely must make a positive identification by a unique characteristic of the stem base. Proper gathering will increase the chance of finding the same mushrooms in that area year after year.

Visitors' Return

Lucille Iacovelli

With the warm weather my wild visitors return. Right now, the furry variety seems to have overpowered my feathered friends. In an attempt to divert the squirrels from devouring seed intended for the birds, I thought I would entice them away from the bird feeder with tiny crackers spread with peanut butter. I offered this in addition to their usual ration of cracked corn.

My plan backfired. Now they have increased in both number and appetite with a newly acquired taste for peanut butter...and so spoiled as to leave the cracker behind after licking off every molecule of peanut from its surface. I will allow them their peanut butter feast until the jar is empty. After that, they will have to eat the corn or find another human willing to indulge their extravagant taste!

My Special Visitor - Part II

August 15, 2007

Gray Squirrel, and his girlfriend, Redhead, turn up every day. As they methodically munch their way through morsels of peanut butter laced corn meal, meticulously lick their nimble little paws clean, and end this repast with a long drink of water, I sit sipping tea, a few feet away, taking in the spectacle.
More often than not, I find myself confined to home, with ever more time to become better acquainted with my animal friends. This piece of glass which allows me the privilege of watching these charming creatures has become monumentally important in my life.

I have learned some of the ways in which physical limitations raise one's tolerance for the inevitable dust and detritus of life and from necessity, have let go of my former compulsion to keep my apartment as scrupulously clean as I would like. It is still clean, but not obsessively so. I was bothered by the fact that I could not keep the glass door crystal clear, as extending my neck for the job of cleaning is nearly impossible. Yet my longing for a perfect view of my visitors' antics impelled me to action. So, dragging a chair out to the deck, and teetering atop it's seat, I polished my window onto wonderland until it sparkled. .

Continued...

Sari

Aug 5, 2007 Lucille Iacovelli Leaving my tiny flat is increasingly more difficult, as preparation to get out the door requires more breath and effort than I can muster these days. So I try very hard to make the most of times I am able to venture forth, precariously driving with one hand on the wheel and the other pressed to my throat, allowing me to breathe and lift my head enough to see where I am going. After wrapping myself in a brilliant vintage sari from my treasured E-Bay sari-walla I headed for the library, where the librarian ladies vicariously enjoy my Indian garb while nibbling the home made treats I bring to them. It was a hot and sunny day when my old reliable 1990 Toyota overheated, forcing me to pull off the road and consult the user manual to see what I should do. After a struggle in raising the hood and finding the coolant chamber empty, I approached a woman working in her garden and asked if she would be so kind as to give me some water for my car. She looked surprised, then smiled radiantly and said "Oh! Your gown is beautiful!" The annoyance of my overheated engine eased as her pleasure in my sari lightened my concerns. I thanked her for the water, filled the coolant chamber and headed for the nearest garage. I stopped at a place where I had done business in past weeks. The same man who attended me before was seated in his little enclosure. I got out of the car and once again battled with the hood, trying to quell the ever present angst at the reason for my physical limitations, hoping to get this car problem fixed with the least amount of effort possible. I looked toward the enclosure to see if the man was heading out to assist me. He was not. He was sitting with his feet up on his little desk, hands behind his head, just watching me with a perverse smirk on his face. I waited and waited. He continued to sit and stare, until I finally walked towards his enclosure. Meanwhile, another man from the business next door must have seen me waiting and was headed toward the enclosure, perhaps thinking the garage man was unaware he had a customer. I stepped into the presence of these two men and the body language displayed by the garage man hit me like a slap in the face. He eyed me from bindi to sandals, taking in my "unconventional" (for Cape Cod) attire, with a look of pure contempt. I turned to the other man. His face was open and friendly, willing to help as he inquired about the overheating of my car. He seemed shamed by the garage man's behavior. This gracious man deftly handled the rather dangerous looking job of opening the radiator cap as a cloud of hot vapor escaped, then bubbled and gurgled as he filled the radiator with water and advised me on where I should go to have the car checked out thoroughly. This garage was not even his business, yet he was kind enough to assist me and even refused to take my money when I tried to pay him. All this time, the garage man sat, watching with his vile smirk which transformed his rather nice features into an ugly visage. I have stopped at this garage several times in the past, and this man has always attended me with prompt courtesy when I was dressed in western clothes. I left that garage with half my heart sinking at the attitude of the garage man, and half lifted by the other's kindness. What makes people react with contempt at the sight of something different? What would make a person so judgmental at the sight of a foreign garment as indisputably lovely as sari? I wish this man's bigoted attitude was a rare exception in the American character, but as I later went shopping for groceries and caught disconcerting looks from every direction, I fear this intolerance is more common than I care to ponder. This experience has not dampened my love for wearing saris. It has only strengthened my determination to adorn myself in them as often as possible.. for my own enjoyment and hopefully, to expose my narrow minded countrymen to the beauty of another culture.. As I look around and see virtually everyone dressed as if they are ready for a day of cutting the grass or pulling weeds in the garden, I know my sari momentarily enriches its immediate environment..a bright and beautiful gift from India. Dhanyavaad, favored sari-walla. You brighten my days. Namaste. Lucille Iacovelli Website of my favorite E-Bay sari-walla