A Son's Poignant Remembrance On All Souls' Day

A son mourns the loss of his father
Photo: Chronica Domus

Since the early days of this blog, I have published a post each year to coincide with All Souls' Day.  These posts showcase a different item from a small group of mourning hair art that my husband and I have collected over the years.  As I sit in front of the keyboard preparing to write these annual blog entries, a funny thing happens; my mind begins to drift.  I contemplate how it is that we have become the stewards of these very personal mementos of other people's relatives. Then, I find myself reminiscing about my own dearly departed friends, relations, and animal companions with fondness and with gratitude for having known them.  In an odd way, by writing about our collection, my cherished memories of the people and animals who helped create them remain aglow in my mind's eye.

Now, let's return to the subject at hand, this year's featured mourning item.  As you can see from the preceding photograph, this art piece is yet another outstanding example that demonstrates the meticulous skill of the artist when composing a picture made entirely out of human hair.  Every strand has been cut and laid out just so, or finely snipped and pounded into position on a thinly-sliced ivory disc.  The masterly shading brings a wonderful sense of depth to the scene.  I suspect the different color hair used is a blend from the mourner and the deceased.  The whole forms a poignant mourning scene.  And, as with last year's example, this one is quite a rarity too. The inclusion of a human figure carried a far higher price tag for the person commissioning the work than, for example, a more typical mourning scene depicting just a tomb.

French in origin and likely dating to around 1830 to 1840, this piece includes several of the most common symbols of mourning.  The weeping willow tree is there, the draped urn atop the tomb, and even a lone pansy to represent love and admiration of one person for another.

The mourner, a young dark-haired gentleman sporting a smart tailcoat, is kneeling by the tomb of his father.  We learn of his relationship to the deceased because the gentleman is shown in the act of painting an inscription on the tomb.  From what I am able to determine when squinting at studying the minuscule words, which are written in French, they read O mon pere! un jour viendra ...  I take this to mean that father and son will one day be reunited.

Housed within its original frame and stamped brass ring, this happens to be one of
my favorite pieces in our collection
Photo: Chronica Domus

This particular mourning hair work hangs on the wall of our home's vestibule.  It is grouped with two other examples of mourning hair art that I've written about here and here.  I love how they are reflected in the small Regency era convex mirror, seen in the below photograph.  

Three early-nineteenth century mourning hair artworks
grace the walls of our home's vestibule
Photo: Chronica Domus

Other pieces in our collection hang on the walls of our bedroom.  A few are even tucked away in drawers, waiting in the wings to be paired with future acquisitions.  As you can well imagine, aside from a healthy dose of patience, a collection as unusual as this takes many years to cobble together.  

This grouping of two mourning hair artworks is found in our bedroom
Photo: Chronica Domus

This is one of a pair of mourning hair artworks believed to memorialize the
lives of a husband and wife

Photo: Chronica Domus

Here are the four mourning hair artworks in situ

Photo: Chronica Domus

Tell me, is there something in your possession that holds sentimental value and reminds you fondly of a dearly departed friend or relative you may be thinking about today on All Souls' Day?

Giving Thanks

Photo: Chronica Domus

It seems like it was just yesterday when I think back to who was sitting with us at our dining table last Thanksgiving, partaking in our annual celebratory Dinner For Waifs and Strays.  Today, my family and I feel privileged that our merry little group has again reunited to give thanks and to count our blessings.

This year, a few of our strays have indeed strayed, to lands afar, and will be missed but not forgotten.  Another is spending the day with an elderly friend who, due to a crippling illness, might have otherwise been alone.  We shall miss his generous spirit but will make sure to raise a glass to him today.

Photo: Chronica Domus

As my life ebbs and flows, either zipping by faster than I'd like it to, or plodding along at a snail's pace, I make a conscious effort to take the time and appreciate all that I am surrounded by; my family, my friends both near and far, my beloved formerly feral feline friend, Norton, my good health and sound mind.  I suppose a day like today, Thanksgiving, is the culmination of it all.  To have an opportunity of sharing in the good fellowship of our jolly dining companions is yet another reason to give thanks.

Now that the table is set, I'm off to the kitchen to put the turkey in the oven

Photo: Chronica Domus

I hope that you too, no matter your circumstances and wherever you might find yourself today, have something to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

CD

Of Aubergines and Coddiwomples

An Old Paris Porcelain reticulated fruit basket filled with aubergines makes an unusual 

autumn centerpiece

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do so enjoy a bit of fun with words and every now and then, I come across a real corker.  I can't quite remember where I first heard the word coddiwomple but when I did, I immediately shared it with my husband.  "Ah", he said, "that's a good one, and a bit like me when I'm looking for the trail on one of my backpacking expeditions".  How, we wondered, had we not previously known of this lovely word while living it on many occasions?

"To travel in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination" is, in essence, to coddiwomple.  I'm sure that you too have had occasion to coddiwomple without knowing you were actually doing so. I partook in a bit of it myself this past Saturday as I trolled the farmers' market for something suitable to fashion into a table centerpiece in preparation for our Sunday lunch guests.

I had already decided I would avoid the use of autumnal gourds and squashes.  I'll be saving those for our Thanksgiving table next week.  Flowers too were a no-go in light of the fact that nipping down to the city's excellent flower market was not on the books on this particularly over-scheduled day.  As such, I found myself wandering towards a vague destination in terms of what to do about my centerpiece dilemma.  Or, to sum things up rather tidily, I found myself coddiwompling.

After considerable dithering, I settled upon something rather unexpected; a delightful melange of jewel-sized aubergines in shades ranging from deepest purple to creamy white.  Corralled in a pretty Old Paris Porcelain reticulated fruit basket, the arrangement qualified as possibly the most unusual centerpiece that has ever graced our dining table.  It was, as it turned out, a wonderful ice-breaker too, with our guests exclaiming how marvelous it looked, and what fun to it was to use items more commonly confined to the kitchen.

The aubergines were a big - and unexpected - hit with our Sunday lunch guests

Photo: Chronica Domus

I always find it so rewarding to stumble across a previously unknown (at least to me) word in the English language.  And, when that word is as fun to utter as coddiwomple well, I just can't help myself from repeating it.  And often!

When was the last time you found yourself coddiwompling, and what unusual things have found their way onto your dining table as a centerpiece?  Do please let me know.

Betwixt The Seasons

There is something so endearing about this time of year here in Northern California.  The dregs of summer are barely holding on in the garden with the last few tomatoes clinging to the withering vines, and a final clutch of cheery summer nasturtiums offering themselves up for gathering just as autumn creeps upon us.

Summer's last nasturtiums gathered this morning and placed in an earthenware
vessel to brighten up the kitchen

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sweet White Currant tomatoes holding on for dear life

Photo: Chronica Domus

The subtle signs of autumn play 'peek-a-boo' with the foliage.  Look here!  The first wisteria leaflet splashed in warming shades of amber.

Aha, a turning leaf upon the climbing wisteria ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and here's another, signaling autumn's arrival

Photo: Chronica Domus

It's funny to celebrate the colors of these few turning leaves when I think back on childhood memories of knee-deep piles of them, blown across from the woodland, only to settle in the front garden. There were many October Saturday mornings spent raking seemingly endless piles of oak leaves into the wheelbarrow in the company of my two younger sisters and my father.  We made a game of it so that what would otherwise have been a wearisome task became a fun but exhausting rite of autumn.

Of course, that special golden light that rakes across our house in the afternoon is yet another undeniable signal that autumn is here.  The intensely saturated sunsets too have been nothing short of spectacular as of late.  I captured this one a few weeks ago on our travels home across the Bay.

Photo: Chronica Domus

And, although our daytime temperatures are mild at present, I am certain all of that will soon come to an end.  Last night was the first night I felt as though I needed a blanket to get me through the cooler night air.

How is it where you live?  Are you betwixt the seasons or did autumn arrive on cue with the calendar, in the latter part of September?  Please, do tell me.

Norton's October Adventure

I've spent all of Friday and Saturday fretting over this little fellow:  

Photo: Chronica Domus

I last saw him darting out of the balcony door as I sat down to dinner with my family on Thursday evening.  Our little friend Norton is both an indoor and outdoor cat and spends most of his waking hours in the garden basking in the sunshine and keeping company with another feral stray that took up residence there a few years ago.  At dusk, he makes his way into the house for cuddles and then onto bed.   Occasionally, he is nowhere to be seen when we turn in so remains outdoors overnight, greeting us first thing in the morning with a "meow" that signifies it is time for breakfast.

Norton failed to appear on Friday morning but I didn't think much of it.  However, by Friday night my usual sunny disposition took a backseat to an uncomfortably uneasy feeling that something was not quite right.  After fruitlessly searching the neighborhood on foot and knocking on neighbors' doors, my husband and I drove to the nearest animal shelter in case someone had found him and dropped him off.

I cannot express enough how terribly gut-wrenching that experience was.  Being guided through four very packed "Lost and Found" rooms of surrendered or stray animals while searching for Norton was nothing short of depressing.  Animals housed in the smallest imaginable metal cages, stacked one on top of the other, with no human contact ("No Touching Allowed" signs are everywhere), was more than I could handle.  I was moved to tears.  Asking the animal technician about those poor creatures, we learned that the animals are held for four days, then medically and temperamentally assessed before being "processed" for adoption.  Some, unfortunately, never see the light of day again.  The dogs were housed separately so I can't speak to them, but the animals we saw were mainly kittens and cats, rabbits and, would you believe it, chickens.  Frankly, I was taken aback - nay shocked - at how many grown rabbits had ended up in this pitiful place.  I imagine most were given to children at Easter and discarded once fully grown by parents coming to the realization that these adorable sentient creatures require care and attention and are not just trinkets to be included in their child's Easter basket.

I fully understand that animal shelters do wonderful work for the thousands of homeless animals and former pets that require rehousing.  However, the very fact they exist at all speaks volumes about our attitude towards animals.  I can only implore those that wish to add an animal companion to their lives to please consider adoption first, to spay or neuter (I shan't soon forget the sight of a nursing mother cat and her litter of kittens crammed into one of those metal cages at the shelter), and to know that animal companions are for life.  Some, in fact, are destined to outlive us so provisions for their care should be considered long before we've shuffled off this mortal coil.

Not finding Norton at the shelter was encouraging.  Perhaps he'd just strayed from home and lost his way and would take a little longer than usual to return.  By Saturday night, however, that glimmer of hope was rapidly fading.  He'd never before strayed from home for three consecutive nights.  Would I ever have the pleasure of seeing his sweet little face again?

Worry had kept me up most of the night.  Before anyone else in the household was awake, I headed outdoors to scour the neighborhood once again.  As I was about to leave, I was met at the door by Norton.  I momentarily imagined I had seen him, like some feline phantasm, but no, it really was Norton.  He let out his familiar "meow" greeting which was just enough to convince me that my mind was not playing tricks on me. At long last, Norton had returned, cold and hungry but seemingly unharmed. What a glorious Sunday surprise!

Norton safely tucked into his basket after breakfast on Sunday morning ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

...and, still snoozing later on Sunday afternoon

Photo: Chronica Domus

As I sit here at the breakfast room table tapping away at my keyboard on Monday morning, Norton is nearby keeping me company.  He's been indoors for over twenty-four hours and, I think he likes it that way.  At least for now.  I wonder what it was that kept him from us for so many nights, and where his travels took him, and what he saw?  I joked to my husband that his disappearance must have been a celestial trick. After all, Norton did fail to return home on Thursday evening, the night of October's orange Harvest Moon which, for those that saw it, was spectacularly large, hanging low over the night sky.

Whatever caused our dear little friend to take his leave of us, we are full of joy at his safe return and most grateful to be reunited.  I only wish those dear little animals at the shelter also find good homes to live out the remainder of their lives.  Our pets sure do have a way of giving us a few gray hairs.

A Treen Mystery Object

Photo: Chronica Domus

When I lived in Kent as a young girl, our house was situated opposite an ancient oak woodland. 'The Woods', as we called it, became an almost daily playground for my sisters and me.  We spent many happy hours larking about the stately trees, enjoying spring walks gathering wood anemones and bluebells, and playing in the knee-high piles of leaves that carpeted the woodland floor later in the autumn.

I delighted in finding plump acorns that had blown onto our property from our neighbor's enormous oak tree.  I viewed these as miniature works of natural art. Often, the acorns separated from their caps and magically took hold in our garden's fertile soil.  Sadly, it was my job to remove the fragile saplings before our garden turned into a woodland of its own.

My childhood fascination and fondness for acorns is what initially attracted me to the two inch ebony treen object you see in the above photograph.  It was laying in a glass cabinet full of other nineteenth century treasures in one of the shops I visited on a recent antiques hunting expedition.

Asking the shopkeeper to unlock her cabinet so that I could take a closer look at the item, I soon discovered its purpose.  I was smitten.  Naturally, the acorn came home with me.

I do so enjoy a good guessing game and hope you do too.  Can you guess the function of my little acorn?  Remember, no cheating allowed through the use of your preferred search engine!

Happy Thanksgiving

An arrangement of amaranth and pin oak leaves held in a Paris Porcelain confiturier adds an autumnal note to the drawing room

Photo: Chronica Domus

My favorite holiday is upon us once again, Thanksgiving.  I just adore the concept of setting aside a day each year to count one's blessings and revel in the companionship of friends and family over a feast of tasty home-cooked fare and flowing libations.  As a Brit now living in California, I've wholeheartedly embraced this very American of holidays and wish that all nations would dedicate such a day of thanks and reflection.  It really is rather grounding.

Last year, we did not get an opportunity to host our annual Thanksgiving dinner, which we share with our closest friends and family.  We jokingly refer to this as our 'Annual Thanksgiving Dinner Party for Waifs and Strays'.  This year, we are back in the saddle and raring to go.

I finally found the perfect receptacle to hold the homemade port and fig cranberry sauce, a nineteenth century Anglo-Irish cut glass sauce tureen

Photo: Chronica Domus

Shortly, my husband will be placing the brined turkey into a hot oven.  I'll be filling my recently acquired old sauce tureen with the delectable port and fig cranberry sauce I wrote about last year, and fussing over the other small details of the table before our guests arrive.

Two arrangements of hypericum berries, pin oak leaves, and persimmons still attached to their boughs decorate the Thanksgiving table this year

Photo: Chronica Domus

I wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving holiday wherever you might find yourselves today.  I have much for which to be thankful, and hope you do too.  Now, I'd better get my skates apron on and get myself into the kitchen if everything is to be ready before the arrival of our guests.

Happy Thanksgiving dear readers.

Edible Antiques: Snow White's Apple

Could this be the apple that tempted Snow White?

Photo: Chronica Domus

During Saturday morning's foray to the farmers' market, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of an apple.  The apple in question was not just any old apple, mind you.  It boasted a hue so deep and dark it could almost pass for a plum.  I had an overwhelming urge to bite into one right there and then. The two women standing beside me filling their brown paper bags with these bewitching fruits exclaimed to each other "They look just like Snow White's apple".  I had to agree with them.

Malus domestica 'Arkansas Black'
Photo: Chronica Domus

In chatting to the farmer, I discovered that this early-nineteenth century cultivar is known as an Arkansas Black apple and provides quite a challenge to grow.  In fact, he told me it was a "real pain" which might explain the scarcity of this particular variety in our area.  Apparently, his finicky thirty-five year old tree is not usually a heavy producer but this year's optimal weather conditions yielded an unusually large crop.  How lucky for us, his farmers' market patrons.

Have you ever seen such a dark-hued apple?
Photo: Chronica Domus

Upon my return home, I could not wait to cut into the glossy dark skin of this beautiful heirloom and photograph it for your pleasure.  Biting into the green tinged creamy-colored flesh proved to be a very good thing indeed.  I can tell you the flavor was nothing short of delicious. With just the right balance of  sweet and sour, and as crunchy and juicy as one would expect from a perfectly ripened autumn apple, Arkansas Black proved an excellent choice among the sea of apples available for sale at the market.  I just know my daughter will agree when she finds one tucked into her lunch box today.

Have you had the pleasure of sampling one of these black beauties, or do you have a favorite "go to" eating apple you look forward to snacking upon at this time of year?

A Visit To The San Francisco Fall Art & Antiques Show

The cover of this year's catalogue features 'African Savannah' hand-painted wallpaper by de Gourney in keeping with the animalia theme of this year's show
Photo: Chronica Domus

It's that time of year again in San Francisco.  The social season is once again upon us and one of the highlights, at least for me, is attending the San Francisco Fall Art & Antiques Show, now in its 35th year.  Actually, the word "art" is new to the show's title which is a good thing as it drew several new exhibitors.  While this prestigious event spans four days, from Thursday through today, I was not as organized as I've been in years past and thus only managed to attend with my husband in tow on day three.

Let's wander about and see what's what

Photo: Chronica Domus

The first booth that drew our attention was Clinton Howell Antiques. Mr. Howell is a charming and engaging fellow and we lingered for quite a while chatting whilst oohing and ahhing over several extraordinary pieces on display.  I was so dizzy by the sight of an exceptionally large and handsome nineteenth century gilded convex looking glass that I forgot to snap a photograph of it for your enjoyment. You'll just have to take my word for it when I say the thing was enormous and rather a showstopper. Crowned with an eagle dangling a snake from its beak, and girandoles to beautifully illuminate any room in which it might be hung, it really was quite a special piece.  Mr. Howell told us that it came from England and had likely hung in a country house.  This rather surprised me.  If I was a betting girl I would have lost a packet as the ring of ebonized stars surrounding the original plate, together with the crowning eagle embellishment, would have led me to believe it was an American piece.

The looking glass was by no means the only pleasant distraction in Mr. Howell's booth.  Just take a look at this:

A rare Derbyshire Blue John urn 

Photo: Chronica Domus

and, this:

The beautiful colors and striations of this handsome Blue John urn had weakened my knees

Photo: Chronica Domus

It was all getting a little too overwhelming so my husband and I headed straight for Café Girandole where we were seated for a pleasant lunch and light refreshments.

A flute of champagne is ever the civilizing tonic, and all the more so while set within a deluge of beautiful antiques

Photo: Chronica Domus

The spectacular floral arrangements at Café Girandole are a treat to behold

Photo: Chronica Domus

Following our lunchtime interlude, we wandered off down the aisles until we found this:

A corner of Mr. Charles Plante's incredible booth

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

Mr. Plante is obviously a dab-hand with a hammer and nails, for his exhibition space was beautifully hung with a multitude of tempting pieces
Photo: Chronica Domus 

The photographs I've managed to take really do not do this space justice as every item was beautifully and compactly arranged, Mr. Plante's trademark look.

As I mentioned earlier, the show's theme revolved around animals and so I must include at least one image of my favorite animal embellished items.  These porcelain tureens and trays, circa 1810 - 1830, are part of an extensive dinner service and are painted with various animals set within fantasy landscapes.  The illustrations are based on Buffon's 'Natural History of Mammals'.

Doesn't everyone want a hedgehog, rat, and boar embellished dinner service?

Photo: Chronica Domus

I always like to stop by Hayden & Fandetta Rare Books and poke around among their interesting and often amusing collection of books.

Obviously, our household's Chief Bartender - my husband - has been doing it all wrong if I've yet to hear him sing whilst mixing our gee and tees!

Photo: Chronica Domus

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post on my sewing kit, found here, and how special it was to me because of the repurposed tole tin once owned by my grandmother.  I believe if I did not already have such a kit, this beauty might have come home with me:

I was sorely tempted by this English Regency burr yew wood sewing box and the beautiful ivory oval showing a woman seated upon a neo-classical chair in the style of Adam Buck

Photo: Chronica Domus

Although we spotted several red dots on item tags, indicating an item had happily been sold, a premium event like the San Francisco Fall Art & Antiques Show is not just for serious buyers and collectors.  It provides enthusiastic admirers of beautiful antiques the opportunity to view many wonderful pieces at close proximity and learn something about them from very knowledgeable and affable dealers.  I hasten to add that such items might not necessarily be seen for sale at one's local antique shops, or what may remain of them.  This is because the show attracts international dealers who bring various regional works of art, and particularly fine furniture from afar, to display within the historic waterfront Festival Pavilion at Fort Mason.

By attending the show, you will also help provide much needed funds that benefit Enterprise For High School Students whose work helps prepare students for success in the workplace and in higher education. Oh, and of course, let's not forget the excellent series of lectures given by some of today's top designers and ambassadors of style throughout the four-day event.

Perhaps you too will make a point of attending next year's show.  You won't be disappointed.

What's Blooming Inside: Summer's Last Hurrah

Photo: Chronica Domus

We may have entered the first days of autumn here in the Northern Hemisphere, but try telling that to my garden.  Do you remember the sweet peas about which I wrote in early August, and the surprise I received when only blossoms of a sugared almond pink color appeared from the assorted heirloom seed packet I planted? Well, this is what the sweet pea patch yielded yesterday morning:

A nineteenth century black basalt vessel sets off the exultant colors of
autumnal sweet peas to perfection
Photo: Chronica Domus

At long last, the other colors depicted so prettily on the seed packet's charming illustration - which enticed me into buying it in the first place - have emerged.  Late, I'll admit, but they made it through. Thinking back, I don't believe I have ever had the pleasure of picking sweet peas so very late in the year.

Even the glass bathroom shelf gets in on the act with a mixed rosy-hued posy composed of the last sugared almond pink sweet peas that have been in bloom throughout the summer

Photo: Chronica Domus

I think it is simply marvelous that the emergence of these jewel-toned flowers have such impeccable timing.  What could be more appropriate, as we approach the cooler months of the year, than to be greeted by the sight of vivid regal purples and crimson pinks in one's vases?  As everything around the garden fades to gold, these rich and exuberant colors reign supreme.  It's summer's last hurrah.

Photo: Chronica Domus

For those of my readers that have never planted sweet peas, let me share a secret with you.  The more one harvests these irresistible blooms, the more seem to emerge.  Each plant is a veritable factory of flowers begging to be culled every few days.  If I'm fortunate, I'll be picking sweet peas well into October this year.

Have you noticed the subtle signs of autumn arriving in your neighborhood yet or is summer refusing to surrender?

A Visit To Sutter Creek

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of the things we did over the long Thanksgiving weekend, aside from the expected feasting, was to get away for a short visit to California's gold country. Hopping into the family motor on a very chilly Saturday morning, we made the two hour journey north-east. We traveled highways and byways, then through smaller winding roads lined with nut groves and fruit orchards until we reached our destination, the heart of the Sierra mountain foothills.

Sutter Creek, known as the "Jewel of the Mother Lode", is a small town that sprang up in the mid-nineteenth century from the madness that became the California Gold Rush. It is located in Amador County and aside from its storied gold mining fame, the area is known for its thriving wine-making industry. Vineyards abound in the tranquil surrounds of Sutter Creek and the other small gold mining towns which makes visiting the area a real treat.

A view of a vineyard that I snapped from the moving car on our journey to gold country

Photo: Chronica Domus

As it was Small Business Saturday, the antithesis of the ghastly Black Friday phenomenon, and we not only enjoy but encourage supporting smaller retail establishments whenever the opportunity arises, we dutifully played our role as consumers.  Popping into the numerous antiques stores along the main drag, we found a few treasures to take home.  A little vintage glass ornament for this year's Christmas tree, a small American yellow ware bowl, and a useful and serviceable English ironstone platter for the kitchen.  All were priced very reasonably.

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of my favorite shops in Sutter Creek is The Antique Gardener, which stocks a charming pastiche of vintage, antique, and new items for the house and garden, as well as plants, seeds, pots, and gifts.  I needed to purchase some greetings cards and stocked up from their nice selection.

The festive offerings include a selection of Christmas cacti and some enormous
sugar pine cones

Photo: Chronica Domus

A beautiful Silver Tip Christmas tree holds center stage in one of the rooms of
The Antique Gardener

Photo: Chronica Domus

A collection of sturdy vintage garden tools for sale
(doesn't everyone need a pitchfork?)

Photo: Chronica Domus

Straw shopping bags, an attractive way to bag one's purchases

Photo: Chronica Domus

Unlike San Francisco, Sutter Creek looked as though it was in the full grip of autumn's glory. Blazing color enveloped every deciduous tree in town, and alongside their evergreen companions, made for a very picturesque scene.

What a magnificent autumnal display of color

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

No doubt the leaves will all be gone within a few weeks.  We noticed that snow had already settled upon the distant peaks of the Sierras as we drove into town. Perhaps all the talk we are hearing of a wet winter will actually materialize, fingers crossed.

Everywhere one looks, one is reminded that this is an old town, at least by California's standards.

A relic of another era, the town's water pump situated by a trough that once refreshed thirsty horses

Photo: Chronica Domus

Even modern vehicles were not so new

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sutter Creek's visitors will enjoy viewing the varied architecture that stretches back to the very beginnings of the town's history.  Local stone, brick, and wood have held up rather well over the ensuing years.

Brick buildings are a rarity in an area known for shakin' and quakin'

Photo: Chronica Domus

Stone buildings are a common sight along Main Street

Photo: Chronica Domus 

The white steeple of the town's church, standing proud since 1862

Photo: Chronica Domus

Moseying in and out of the various buildings along Main Street, we were delighted to have discovered the local distillery. Now, can you even imagine a wild west town without one to keep the local saloon bar flowing?  Once inside, we discovered an array of handsomely labeled spirits bottles, including these lovely examples:

Photo: Chronica Domus

I'm assuming this one's pretty fiery

Photo: Chronica Domus

With all this talk of the local sauce, we decided to investigate what in town constitutes "good eatin". We soon stumbled upon the restaurant at the historic Hotel Sutter and made a bee line for a table where we heartily tucked into a toothsome and filling early dinner.  Of course, we were in the heart of the other wine country (yes, how fortunate to have not one but two wine regions so close to home), and made a point of sampling the excellent area wines.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our visit to Sutter Creek provided us with a splendid and relaxing little getaway, an opportunity to enjoy the crisp late-autumn air of the surrounding foothills, and allowed us to walk off some of that Thanksgiving feast we devoured a few days earlier.

If you find yourself in the environs of San Francisco, please do consider a trip further north into gold country, and especially to Sutter Creek for a little glimpse of California's famed wild west.