Andrea Doughtie, Rural Painter

Probably about the purest form of American democracy can be found at town meetings in Vermont, where everybody can have a say. The turnout is large and people are generally well prepared to discuss a wide range of issues. The head of our Select Board says the founding fathers here must have had a sadistic streak to set the date for it on the first Tuesday in March when the weather is almost always bleak. Today was cloudy but actually not too cold. (All during the meeting the snow kept falling off the roof in huge masses. ) I’m impressed by the care given to the preparation of the agenda and the spirited involvement of Strafford citizens. People are generally very thoughtful, polite and often funny, with Robert’s Rules scrupulously followed. There was a great deal of concern about the sorry state of the local roads–terrible potholes due to frost heaves–and how on earth the town could ever afford to repair them. One suggestion was just to break up the asphalt and go back to dirt roads which seem to do better in the bad weather. But the big item for discussion was a cooperative agreement with a lot of other small towns to bring fiber optic to Strafford. Of course it passed since it won’t cost the town anything. Now we’re pretty much assured that by the end of 2009 we won’t have to rely on dial-up anymore. Plus, we can get TV and telephone as well. And no matter how remote, how hilly one’s location we’ll still all be able to get connected. We’re very happy. Dial-up is so frustrating and it would be nice to get some television as well.

On the day of the meeting the road crew arrives at 4:00 a.m. to start the three big wood stoves on the only day of the year when the building is heated. All during the morning casseroles heat on top of the stoves and by noon you’re ravenous from the smell.

But this is probably the last year we’ll have the stoves. They’ll be replaced by propane heaters which will be more efficient and much safer. So many historic buildings in New England have burned down it only makes sense to get rid of the stoves and somewhat rickety pipes and install modern heaters. Anyway, the lunch run by the P.T.A. is wonderful–a huge potluck meal.

Children have the day off school and many come to the meeting. Here they are building a snowman and having a snowball fight during the lunch break.

What a great place to grow up!

It snowed all day yesterday and into the night. Here’s the view from our living room window this morning–every branch and twig draped. Of course it’s not all wonderful. Yesterday the Subaru couldn’t make it up our long steep driveway and wound up in a ditch. So Ed finally broke down and bought an expensive set of snow tires that work like a charm. If we’d spent that kind of money on presents there would be a lot more under the tree!

We had the first big snowfall of the season this week and got out for our first snowshoe this morning.  It was a beautiful day and we went to a relatively flat spot for our first time out. A skier had already broken trail, making our job much easier, and the path went up behind the village of Strafford.  That’s the  beautiful white Townhouse on the left.  Not a single building in the picture was built later than the 19th century–altogether a New England postcard.   Since I grew up in Georgia and lived in Houston for nearly 40 years, snow is still a thrill (unless I have to get out and drive in it).   When we first  moved here someone told us that we  had to “embrace the winter” which we make a real effort to do by trying to get outside every day.    Fortunately there are quite a few snowmobile trails around for snowshoeing and sometimes we just go up into our woods–good for burning all those extra calories we seem to want when the weather is cold.  Once all the streams freeze over we can get to places that aren’t accessible during the warmer months.

This morning we were walking through some slightly-snowy woods when we saw an old truck on the path ahead of us. It’s not unusual to see all kinds of ancient abandoned vehicles way off in the woods so we weren’t surprised by this.

But as we moved closer we discovered that it was Mother Nature who had left this particular wreck–a trunk, not a truck. The “cab”  was a broken tree with other felled or fallen trees making the body.

Maybe you had to be there…..

Last night I went to a meeting at the library. After the business–treasurer’s report, etc. one of those attending said he’d like to make announcement. He’d found a black sheep wandering on a nearby road and wondered if anybody knew whose it was. Immediately people started suggesting various Straffordites who might be missing a sheep while others chimed in and explained why it couldn’t possibly be that person’s sheep. Then another member noted that a certain person was missing a black goat. Was it for sure a black *sheep* he had found? He assured everybody he knew a sheep from a goat!

When we first came up here I went to an evening presentation at the library and when I came out later a dog and a small black sheep were waiting (patiently) for their owners, right there on the library steps. It was then I truly realized I wasn’t in Houston anymore! How I love life in this little village.

For years I’ve baked sourdough bread regularly and never tire of the moment when I take a loaf out of the oven. My son and daughter-in-law gave me a wonderful terra cotta cloche that provides an environment for the dough much like a clay oven; it works beautifully. But recently I passed a mini-farm on the way into town and noticed that the woman who runs it was loading something into an outdoor oven. Here was my chance to move to the next level! I asked her if I could bake some of my dough there on her baking day but forgot to find out what time I should be there. Passing by later I asked a young man leading a cow when I should show up and he told me very early–around seven or even as late as eight. So this morning I got up at 4:30 to get the dough out of the fridge for its three hour rise before baking. When I got to the farm, Sue who was up to her elbows in a big vat of dough informed me that she hadn’t even lit the oven yet and that I should have asked her instead of a teenager. She  said she wouldn’t begin baking until noon, but graciously offered to bake my loaves if I’d leave them. I’m always so careful about the temperature and the dough was almost at the optimum, so I was sure it would deflate by the time she got it in the oven. When I returned around 2:30 Sue said she hadn’t yet had room for it but that I could bake it in a little while. To my amazement the dough had risen a lot in her cold dining room but had not fallen in all that time. So I had the great pleasure of baking in a stone oven. I’m not very experienced using a peel so Sue loaded it in. Then I helped out loading the basket with her pear bread for her farm stand. (The first batch sold out in about twenty minutes to people just passing by. ) While I was waiting I did some sketching with a piece of leftover charcoal from the oven and it made a beautiful line. After about fifteen minutes Sue told me she had to drive the tractor somewhere, that in another 15 minutes I should put on the protective glove, remove the metal door and use the peel to take all the loaves out of the oven. Yikes! Sue’s a lot taller than I am and I had a little trouble reaching all the loaves in the back of the oven, but I did it and felt very pleased with myself indeed.

Sue is amazing. She raises livestock–cows and pigs, grows lots of vegetables for sale, bakes huge quantities of various kinds of breads, makes artisanal cheese and is a potter as well. She is also one of the Selectmen for the nearby town of Norwich– a tremendously time-consuming responsibility. I can’t imagine such energy. There are a lot of people around who seem to manage with small-scale farming, handicrafts, etc. It must be a hard but satisfying way to live.

Oh–and my bread? Delicious, with a nice wood smoke tang. I don’t know if I’ll often make the drive over with the dough but in warmer weather, probably. Sue offered to teach me to make cheese and I would love to learn about that. Food, basically, is my life. Art’s good too……

Sue’s oven

Pear and pepper loaves

Ahhh!

Friendly piglets

These turkeys were across the road from our place. They’re a common sight around here, especially in empty cornfields. Sometimes they come close to the house. Not so many years ago they were apparently rare but then somebody introduced more of them; one time I saw a flock in town behind K-Mart! In the winter they look so miserable huddled in the snow.

Ed wrote a poem:

Tracks

Wild turkeys

Strolling through the snow

Arrows pointing the way they didn’t go….

We’ve had grandchildren here all week and I haven’t spent five minutes painting. So instead, here’s a snapshot of what it’s like on the road around here. It’s wonderful to be away from all the traffic in Houston. Sometimes I can drive half an hour into town and not see a single vehicle behind me the whole way. However–I allow a little extra time for obstacles. The roads are so hilly and curvy that it’s difficult to get around anything in front of you.

These bikers aren’t really a problem but often there will be a group riding right across the whole lane and it seems to take them forever to realize they should get over. Biking up here seems way too hard. The hills are so steep and the expressions on the bikers’ faces look grim to me.

Here’s a horse and wagon–a more frequent sight than you’d think. For a while there was another horse and wagon that kept going back and forth all the time and really slowed traffic around the village. We never found out why he was here for just a few days.

Tractors are also a common sight. Drivers of slow vehicles are usually very thoughtful and pull over periodically to let cars around.

This one is my favorite. There’s a dairy farm just down the road from us. From time to time the family herds the cows to another pasture on the other side of the road or back to the barn. I’m always so tickled when I have to wait for them because it seems to me the essence of living in Vermont.

From time to time I’m going to post something besides paintings– a bit about living in Vermont.

A terrific writer, Catherine Tudish, lives in Strafford. Her new novel, “American Cream” has just been published by Scribner and I urge everyone to rush out and buy it. Ed and I had read an earlier version in manuscript but we were just as glued to the page the second time around. I don’t know when I’ve read a novel that made me care as much about the characters. The prose is beautiful and insightful, the story compelling. Trust me. Catherine’s collection of short stories, “Tenney’s Landing” is also a delight with some connections with characters and places between the two books.