Max the wonder dog

Max (short for Maxine) and I first met about a year ago when my friends, Kathy and Marc, asked me to let her out during the day. I lived and worked around the corner and was happy to have the break during the day. Max has been blind since she was young (she's now about 8) and she was a recent "only dog". Her partner in crime and fellow Airedale, Jacey, had been ill and passed away. I asked Kathy if I could take her for a walk when I stopped in. This began an interesting learning experience for both Max and me. 

Max was initially very tentative about walking with me. We could barely get to the corner before she wanted to go home. I quickly realized I was the "seeing eye human" for her and had a new responsibility. The language of a dog walk would be very different than that of sighted dogs. Max picked up the slightest things from me and used them to interpret what was ahead.  I had to be very aware of what I was projecting and what I was letting her know was around us. 

Max has always been good on our walks but she does have one issue. She lunges and barks at any dog who barks at her or passes us. The added difficulty with this issue is that her sense of smell is extremely heightened without sight, and she can smell another dog a block away. Her reaction is to intimidate what she can't see by barking. I use the "Dog Whisperer" approach to correct this—to snap her out of the focus when she fixates—but I'm no dog whisperer, so it only works some of the time. And there are a couple of dogs that get to her no matter what.

Her next door neighbor, Blanche is one such dog. She is very sweet and quite a character. Blanche is a mix of Chihuahua and Beagle and would qualify as an ugly-beautiful, but cute as hell dog. Blanche has the run of her yard via an electric fence. When she sees Max walking by on the sidewalk, she sneaks up like a little ninja, and startles Max with a quick shot of barks when she is a few feet from her. Of course Max goes ballistic and then there is no return from that state of mind until I wrangle her past. 

These days, when I go over to take Max for a walk, she greets me at the door with unbridled excitement. I always touch her on her right shoulder to let her know it's me. At one time I had to coax her out the door. Now she bounds out the door and pulls me with her. I have always stuck to the same route so she knows where we are going. I barely have to guide her anymore. 

I've grown to love Max and our walks together. She always makes me laugh when she flops on the floor for a belly rub and gets a KoolAid smile on her face. She has taught me a lot about trust. She has also reminded me to live in the moment and enjoy the simple things in life. Dogs do that so well. They don't fret about what happened last week, yesterday, or even an hour ago. They only care about what is happening in the moment. We would all probably be a lot more content if we could do the same. 

The Little Orchard house

Mona and Lee are good friends of mine who own a wonderful home in Silvermine called The Little Orchard. They have lovingly restored it over the last few years and the home was featured on the recent Silvermine Historic House Tour. As with most Silvermine homes, it has a very interesting past. Its most notable former owner was John Vassos. He was a colorful character with a past of full of vocations—industrial and graphic designer, inventor, and even spy. He was also quite a ladies man by all accounts. His life was what I would call a classic piece of Silvermine history—a rich and interesting story, complete with "juicy bits" to make it even better. 

The Little Orchard has always been one of my favorites houses in Silvermine. It sits on a lovely parcel of property, complete with gardens, waterfall and pond, and a long driveway that guides you past the orchard to the house. Lee is an architect who specializes in high quality designs and historic preservation, so it's no surprise that the restoration of this house under his watch is magnificent. They have also created a very welcoming and comfortable home, and visiting with them is always a pleasure. 

For the last two summers, Lee and Mona have asked me to water their garden while they are away on vacation. The first year, they had just planted a new area of garden and wanted to make sure it didn't whither away in the summer heat. (although I almost did while watering at times) This past year, they added a lovely pond and waterfall with all sorts of water plants and fish. Each time I was there, I felt an immense sense of peace around me. It's a place where you can take a deep breath, relax, soak up the sun and wander around the lovely gardens, lost in the color, smells and textures. The only sounds heard were those of nature. It was a welcome respite to my own hectic days.

As I watered the garden over the weeks the house was in my care, I began to see—aside from the obvious beauty of the house—the details, colors, light and shadow that the house created. I grabbed my camera and took it along over a few days each time. What emerged was a series of photos that created a new viewpoint on The Little Orchard. 

Willie

I like to take photos of animals, but I do find it tough to get really good shots of them unless I have extended access to them. They aren't always cooperative, and they have to be relaxed and not really notice you are there, which requires time. 

Once in a while I pet sit for friends. My cat died about two years ago after a long illness, and  I decided to take a break. I found I really missed having a cat or dog around, (a cat has always been part of my family) and this is where the pet sitting idea came in. It allowed me to get a pet "fix" and give the owners peace of mind while they were away.  

Willie is one of my favorite charges. He was rescued from the local shelter long ago, and now lives in a wonderful house with my dear friend and neighbor Jerry. Willie is a short haired, all black cat. Something about him makes me think he has Siamese in his heritage. He is also a very laid back, sleek, "go with the flow" cat. If he were human, I think he would be a member of the Rat Pack. He's truly a cool cat! 

Willie once had an ear problem, and the end result left one of his ears scrunched up. I thought his sudden imperfection made him even more appealing. I saw the ear as a symbol that his life wasn't always about lying in the sun or having his chin scratched. Like most of us, he had been through something unpleasant and came out of it just fine. It also reiterated to me that there is real beauty (or handsomeness, in Willie's case) in imperfection. We just have to see it in our lives for what it really is. 

I call this photo "Willie Nilly"...he was upside down on the floor when I took this shot. The title came about after this photo was in a local show and the show judge called me to tell me my photo was upside down in the frame. Sigh.....sometimes a label can be helpful.....

Willie wasn't always an easy subject....

Here, he was sitting at the screen door, waiting for Jerry to return from his trip. (or maybe waiting for the first snow of the season?) 

The Old Mill

I have lived in Silvermine, CT for the last 8 years, but recently found myself moving to the next town. (life changes and you have to "go with the flow", as the saying goes) I spent the last three years living/working in The Old Mill. The Mill is situated in the center of Silvermine and is adjacent to the Silvermine Tavern. It is a wonderful location. It was really fun to be able to walk next door for a drink or a meal, or have neighbors pop in for a cup of coffee and a laugh in the middle of the day. Or, we could walk up to the Silvermine Market for a sandwich, where we would inevitably run into more neighbors, which led to sitting around a table catching up with each other. I hadn't lived in a town where I could more often walk than drive to places since childhood. 

The Old Mill (officially called The Red Mill, although I've never seen a photo or drawing of it painted red) was built in the late 1700's and sits on the Perry Avenue waterfall. Knobs for furniture were made there. (who knew a mill was needed just for knobs?) It has a long and interesting history, complete with a character or two who lived there from time to time. The opportunity to live there came to me in a roundabout way, and I just went with it, knowing it would turn out to be an adventure. It didn't disappoint.

The Mill had an air of peace and tranquility, and was just what I needed in my life at the time. Every view from the house was spectacular and was forever changing. It wasn't difficult for me to get good photographs. I found a lot of the inspiration I had lost in my art from catering to the commercial world all these years. It didn't hurt to be surrounded by other artists, writers and creatives either. Silvermine is a 100+ year old artist colony and is still thriving. Many of my friends commented that they thought it was the perfect house for me. 

While it was indeed a wonderful place to live, it did have a downside. It was referred to as "rustic" by its owner. Anyone who has lived in an old house or one that needs work knows all too well what that means. Sometimes it added to the charm and sometimes it didn't. People who ate or stayed at the Tavern would frequently wander into my yard and actually inside the house (I think I lost about 5 years of my life from the scare of those encounters) I referred to these wanderers as the "escapees". Most would walk around the yard, oblivious to the signs that told them they weren't at the Tavern anymore, and seemingly mesmerized by their surroundings. Some would even peer into the deck or my windows. It was annoying at times, but then again, could I really blame them? It was an interesting house and a beautiful neighborhood. 

I came to love the Mill as if it were mine. When it went up for sale with the rest of the Tavern about a year ago, I felt as if I was losing a loved one. From that moment, the peace I knew there turned to sadness. It just wasn't the same. I also knew it was time for me to go. 

Much to my surprise, I don't miss the Mill. I couldn't imagine being happy anywhere else as I was moving out, but I am happy in my new home. I realized that the physical building really didn't matter. It was the people in the neighborhood, the wonderful friendships, and the memories I had that made me love it. Luckily I didn't move far, so I still see the Silverminers I've grown so fond of.  I am so grateful for my time there and to be part of a wonderful legacy know as Silvermine.....one of the best kept secrets in Fairfield County!

The living room and original work room

The main fireplace....hard to believe that this was the 

only heat source in the old days!

The waterfall at night....this was taken from my living room.

View from the deck

Ground view of the waterfall....

Fall is here!

 Fall is the best time of year in CT....

l