Saturday, March 31, 2018

Norton Helps Prepare Some Easter Flowers

Although we won't be home for Easter Sunday this year, I am still compelled to add a few festive touches to the house to mark the holiday.  So, bright and early this morning, Norton and I trotted down to the garden to snip away at some of the narcissi I had planted in mid-February. Anticipating, with a bit of luck, that most of them would have bloomed for Easter, it turns out, most of them had.

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Planted on February 19, narcissus Cragford, an award-winning heirloom, 
is ready for picking
Photo: Chronica Domus


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Another heirloom variety that bloomed vigorously this year is the aptly named 
narcissus Cheerfulness 
Photo: Chronica Domus


It did not take long to fill my trug but I must admit, I did receive a little help from Norton.

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Norton supervising in the cutting garden
Photo: Chronica Domus


As you can see below, the effort of picking a few narcissi was all a tad too much for dear Norton. Declaring he'd had quite enough of it all, he proceeded to plonk himself smack dab in the middle of the vegetable patch, exhausted it seems.

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Gardening is so overrated!
Photo: Chronica Domus


Coming into the house via the back stairwell, Norton was obviously still very tired from his gardening escapades so I left him there, with the trug, while I nipped downstairs and around to the front garden to clip a few more blooms.

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Norton takes a well-earned break
Photo: Chronica Domus


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Narcissus Thalia, my favorite of the whites, has been reliably blooming and multiplying in 
my front garden for several years
Photo: Chronica Domus


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Just a few Thalia to complete the morning's pickings
Photo: Chronica Domus

I had adequate blooms to make two cheery arrangements to place in the drawing room, with a handful left over for a third smaller arrangement that I placed in the kitchen.

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Photo: Chronica Domus


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Here they are in situ
Photo: Chronica Domus


And, what would Easter be without a few chocolate treats to nibble upon?  Here are some chocolate eggs corralled in a favorite English Regency era teapot stand painted in a pleasing shade of orange to match the centers of narcissus Cragford.

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Please, help yourself to a chocolate egg or two
Photo: Chronica Domus


My collection of various bird eggs round out the decorations in the drawing room.  Eggs are, after all, symbols of rebirth and renewal at Easter time.  A glass vessel below holds quail, araucana chicken, and partridge eggs ...

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Photo: Chronica Domus

... and another holds a turkey egg, the egg of a scrub jay, and more delicately-shaded araucana chicken eggs.

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Photo: Chronica Domus


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A simple but pleasing Easter arrangement in the drawing room
Photo: Chronica Domus


Oh, and I almost forgot the funnest, and smallest, decoration in the house, a charming vintage hen and her chicks.  They grace a porcelain stand on the kitchen counter.  Don't you think Mrs. Hen and her brood look quite at home surrounded by ... more eggs!

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Happy Easter Everyone!
Photo: Chronica Domus

Norton and I wish you all a very Happy Easter!


Monday, March 12, 2018

Bloomin' Lovely!

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Bringing flowering branches indoors is an annual and pleasurable rite of spring
Photo: Chronica Domus


I know that spring has not officially begun but I have felt its impending arrival keenly these past few weeks.  Refreshing downpours and even a rare pounding of hail has helped paint the Bay Area's open spaces green ...

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Sonoma county's verdant farmland
Photo: Chronica Domus


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Happy cows in pastures green
Photo: Chronica Domus


... and awakened its gardens from their winter slumber ...

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Like clockwork, my garden's white wisteria is in full bloom by mid-March each year
Photo: Chronica Domus


Even the birdsong has intensified with the arrival of March's lengthening days.  Of course, with rain comes flowers and although the majority of my own spring flowering bulbs have yet to put on their show this season (I was a wee bit late with the bulb planting I'm afraid), that does not prevent me from enjoying the store purchased varieties.  My thoughtful husband presented me with several bunches of yellow daffodils a few weeks ago, just because he knows they are my favorite flowers.

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A cheery gift from my husband
Photo: Chronica Domus


I always feel that bringing the outdoors inside helps usher in that feeling of renewal and helps to put a kick in one's step.  I'm sure you know exactly what I mean.  The plum tree in the garden is already in full burst but as I hesitate to hack away at its branches - springtime blossoms are summer's fruits remember - I instead seek out bundles of pre-cut branches to purchase from the San Francisco Flower Market.  This is what I brought home two weeks ago:

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A lovely spring vision to behold!
Photo: Chronica Domus


I don't recall having seen such showy double blossoms before so I asked the vendor if he could identify them for me.  I was taken aback when he replied they were peach.  Yes, peach.  It appears I had been under the mistaken impression that peach blossom was exclusively pink.   As it turned out, the double blossom of this highly ornamental white flowering peach is particularly fetching and takes an age to unfurl from it's pompom-like buds. It is a joyous vision of spring to behold.  The branch arrangement lasted a full two weeks, right up until I replaced it on Saturday morning.

After a fortnight of enjoying the muted tones of the lovely peach, I was now in the mood for something a little more colorful.  These salmon-pink tulips fit the bill perfectly:

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Mother Nature provides us with the most luminous color
Photo: Chronica Domus


The two dozen tulips happen to look marvelous alongside these quince branches:

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Ornamental flowering quince is a particular favorite plant material of mine to bring
indoors each spring
Photo: Chronica Domus


Captured below in the cool light of Sunday morning, the kitchen was positively aglow with spring cheer.  No wonder those chirpy little birds just beyond my window are singing a little louder these days.

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Photo: Chronica Domus


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Flowering branches and tulips bring a welcome air of spring to the kitchen 
Photo: Chronica Domus


Is there something you particularly look forward to bringing indoors to place in your vase each spring?  Whatever it might be, I'm sure its bloomin' lovely.

Happy (almost) spring everyone!

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

The Ivory & Sterling Mystery Thingamajig Revealed

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Did you correctly guess the purpose of the ivory and sterling thingamajig?
Photo: Chronica Domus


I have had such fun reading through the slew of comments received in response to the ivory and sterling thingamajig.  In fact, it has been one of the most popular mystery items in the entire series, inspiring many of you to come out of the woodwork in an attempt to solve this confounding little implement's intended purpose.  Without further ado, let's get to the answer.

The two most popular guesses were that it was either one of these ...

A marrow spoon or scoop


or one of these ...

A Stilton scoop


followed in hot pursuit by one of these ...

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A cheese corer
(this one is an English nineteenth century oak, brass, and steel corer belonging to my husband)
Photo: Chronica Domus


I had a sneaking suspicion that these would be the top guesses, all plausible to be certain but, surprisingly, all incorrect.  

Now, I'll be honest and admit to you that I purchased the mystery thingamajig because I too thought it was a scoop to aid in the delivery of Stilton to one's plate. I have been on the hunt for such a scoop for some time but those I've come across have been rather large and unwieldy, and better suited for use with larger truckles.  

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Plunged into a truckle of crumbly Stilton cheese the shovel-shaped scoop does an admirable job of delivering cheese to plate with minimal fuss and mess
Photo: Chronica Domus


Which is why when I first set eyes upon the mystery thingamajig, I knew it was going home with me.  At just shy of six inches, it was perfect for a smaller truckle. It could also, I supposed, be used to scoop out potted Stilton.  As a bonus, the sterling shank was fashioned into an unusual hemispherical scoop rather than the typical shovel shape.  

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The description on the dealer's tag read "English sterling Stilton scoop with bone handle" but my teenage daughter saw things differently
Photo: Chronica Domus


My observant and inquisitive teenage daughter took one look at my newly acquired prize and deemed it an apple corer.  "An apple corer?" I repeated, "surely not".  I was left somewhat slack-jawed by the suggestion but, suddenly, the shape of the scoop made perfect sense.  Sure enough, a quick gander on the Internet confirmed her suspicions.  Who'da thunk it?!  

Here's one made by Thomas Hyde I of London, circa 1770 ...


... and another, a Georgian ivory and sterling apple corer, circa 1816


I marvel at the fact that I am now the proud owner of an apple corer for the first time in my life.  And, its an elegant one at that.  I had no idea such utilitarian kitchen objects could be elevated to the sublime.  

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My thingamajig apple corer was made in London by silversmith Henry Holland Sr. in 1853
Photo: Chronica Domus


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It does a masterly job of removing the core from the last of the winter farmers' market apples
Photo: Chronica Domus


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Photo: Chronica Domus


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What a satisfyingly elegant way of performing a basic kitchen task
Photo: Chronica Domus


As it turns out, my apple corer is far from being deemed one of the more elegant examples available for sale during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.  Those were made entirely of sterling silver, like the one pictured below:

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Source


Some apple corers were even designed to be portable and used during travel or for picnicking.  The corer can be unscrewed from its handle and stored within it when not in use.

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A Georgian sterling silver traveling apple corer, London circa 1803


If you are interested in learning more about these little-known utensils, I highly recommend you read Dorothea Burstyn's informative article found here.

Thank you all for participating in what I hope has been a fun and enlightening guessing game.  I believe my daughter won this round and has earned her ranking, having been the only participant to have correctly solved the mystery of the ivory and sterling thingamajig.  She was also the inspiration for this post, of course.

Source: Pinterest

Do please join me in giving her a well-deserved round of appl(e)ause.


Sunday, February 25, 2018

Mystery Object: An Ivory and Sterling Thingamajig

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Photo: Chronica Domus


I do so love the word thingamajig.  It is a delightful word that, in my ever so humble opinion, is underappreciated and not used often enough.  Today's post provides the perfect opportunity to change all that.

Thingamajig is defined as a thing whose name one has either forgotten or does not know.  In the case of this particular object, or thingamajig, I thought I knew its name and its intended purpose until, that was, my very clever teenage daughter Patience entered the discussion.

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Hmmm... I wonder what the purpose of this ivory and sterling silver thingamajig might be
Photo: Chronica Domus


She was with me the day I purchased it and saw how tickled pink I was to have finally stumbled across such an unusual example - or so I thought - of a longed-for item.  Upon our return home, I excitedly removed said object from the layers of tissue paper within which the store clerk had wrapped it, and gave it a quick polish until it gleamed.  It was then that my daughter casually put forth a suggestion.  In that brief light bulb moment, Patience had me viewing the darn thing with fresh eyes.  

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The back of the mystery thingamajig's shank showing full British hallmarks
Photo: Chronica Domus


Sure enough, a quick gander on the Internet only confirmed what she had already successfully sussed out.  No longer relegated to thingamajig status, the object could finally be defined by its true name and purpose.

So, what do you think this almost six inch long, ivory and sterling silver item is, and what was it used for?  All shall be revealed in my next post.  In the meantime, I very much look forward to reading your supposals and contemplations with interest.  And remember, no peeking on the Internet allowed!


Nota bene: Comment moderation will be enabled to give everyone a chance to offer their suggestions.  

Monday, February 19, 2018

Life's Little (Long) Weekend Pleasures

Nota bene: I was able to sneak the highly-fragrant posy you see below into the marital bedroom because my husband happened to be away on a business trip the day I snapped the photograph below; such a transgression would be unthinkable otherwise and near grounds for divorce - you can read why, here.

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An engaging book and a bedside posy of home-grown narcissus Avalanche helps to ease one comfortably into a relaxing Sunday morning
Photo: Chronica Domus


Several days ago I received a nice comment from one of my loyal readers.  "CD, CD, wherefore art thou?  I miss you!".  Reading it made me realize that I have not been particularly punctual with my posts here at Chronica Domus lately.  Had it really been an entire month since I last published anything or, for that matter, have had the luxury of visiting my favorite blogs?  I am afraid it really has been.

Since the beginning of January, my days have held an almost elastic quality to them.  My real-world professional obligations have stretched too far into my waking hours which, sadly, has left little time to pursue the more pleasurable aspects of life, including the upkeep of this blog.  I won't even mention the alarming state of my garden.  Shudder.  As you can imagine, the long President's Day weekend could not have arrived soon enough.  Three entire days to revel in the little things in life that provide the greatest of pleasure.  I consider one of those pleasures to be sleep.

I don't know about you but a few extra hours of sleep on a weekend morning has become a luxurious indulgance the older I get.   If I can make it to 8 a.m. in the comfort of my bed, I just know it's going to be a good day.  It pains me to admit that, try as I might, I am not a natural early riser.  I admire those of you that are up and about enjoying the crepuscular light of dawn, catching sight of colorful skies painted by the first shafts of light.  That said, on most weekday mornings I do tumble out of bed before dawn, heavy-eyed and yawning.  This is done not out of choice, mind you, but to fulfill my familial and workday obligations.  I am also charged with serving breakfast to Norton and the hungry clowder of neighborhood ferals.  They have certainly trained me well.  As I hurriedly dart about, I barely notice when daylight eventually does break.  In another life, I would be found snoozing well into the morning which is why I do so enjoy the luxury of a slower start to a weekend morning.  Those precious few restorative hours of slumber truly rejuvenate my body and soul.  Only then am I able to focus on a full weekend of running errands, visiting the farmers' market, gardening, social obligations, and general good old-fashioned fun.  

Sunday mornings are also when I am able to loll about in bed, enjoying a good read. I have only just cracked open a book that I purchased two years ago when I visited the charming collegiate city of Cambridge, England.  Titled Below Stairs In The Great Country Houses, Adeline Hartcup's fascinating book recalls with delicious detail several real-life accounts of how many of Britain's most famous country houses were run.  If you are a fellow devotee of the much-missed television series Downton Abbey, you too will enjoy reading about the strict hierarchy adhered to - and the minefield of social blunders to be avoided - by the many characters that lurked both above and below stairs.

How about you, which of life's little (long) weekend pleasures give you the most satisfaction?

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

The Porcelain Mystery Object Revealed

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This diminutive drummer boy has a very specific purpose - can you guess what it is?
Photo: Chronica Domus


Well, I must say you are a clever bunch!  Thank you all for playing along in the latest mystery object game.  I can now reveal that the little drummer boy is indeed a vintage French féve.

For those of you that haven't a clue what in the world I'm rattling on about, a féve is a good luck charm or trinket that is baked into a celebratory cake called a Kings Cake, or to use its French name, a Galette de Rois.

Galette de Rois


Kings Cake is traditionally served on Epiphany, January 6, to commemorate the day the Magi Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar bestowed gifts upon the infant Jesus.  In fact, a figure of a baby is often used as a féve in a Galette de Rois.  In New Orleans, Kings Cakes make an appearance in local bakeries anywhere from January 6 right up until Mardi Gras, which happens to fall on February 13 this year.  It is said that he who finds the féve is crowned king for the day and reaps all the benefits of the good luck that comes along with the charm.

Other countries have their own traditions centered around finding lucky trinkets in sweet treats.  Take the British, for example, and the long-held tradition of baking a silver six-penny piece into Christmas puddings.

Ah, there it is, the prized silver sixpence!


Greece and some of the other Balkan countries bake coins into Vasilopita, a cake served at midnight on New Year's Day.  Vasilopita is named in honor of Basil of Caesarea and his famous coin and jewelry cake, baked and distributed to local families.  Here's a link to that story.

No Vasilopita is complete without the addition of a Drachma Euro


The féve I selected to feature in my mystery object post is one of six that have somehow found their way to me.  I believe they were made during the first half of the twentieth century, or possibly earlier judging by their lovely muted colors and traditional forms.  Modern féves tend to be garishly decorated in lurid colors, and many are fashioned after popular cartoon characters.

Apologies to Minion fans but these little googly-eyed féves would be enough to
put me off my cake!


Let me introduce you to my enchanting drummer boy's Lilliputian companions.

This lantern-carrying féve resembles a fisherman from a bygone era ...
Photo: Chronica Domus


... and these peasant women must surely be his shore-side companions
Photo: Chronica Domus


Here's the ship's captain and his young deckhand
Photo: Chronica Domus


How could one fail to be delighted at finding any of these charming fellows peeking from within a slice of cake?

Half a dozen years of good luck
Photo: Chronica Domus


Perhaps you too have had the good fortune of discovering a similar charm in a cake or a pudding.  Do please tell me about it, or of any other similar holiday tradition revolving around the unearthing of such lucky trinkets.

Thank you once again for being such good sports.  I look forward to sharing another mystery object with you in the not-too-distant future.

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