Chicken's of the Sea

It was a Sunday in early summer, 1967 when my father left this earth. I passed by him on my way to church while he tended his vegetable garden. I said good bye not knowing it would mean forever. My mother and two  brothers, Bob and Joe stayed at home as they had already gone to the 7 am mass. My brother Bob was the youngest. He would turn six four days later, on the day we buried my dad. He and my brother Joe were with my dad in the yard that morning. My father was only 43. Our family doctor, John O'Brien suggested she put somthing in the area to detract from this sad memory. She installed a small swimming pool, it helped .
 Now Bob loved animals, or as he called them"aminals". When he would attend summer art classes he would sculpt dogs, horses and evan buffalo.  Dr. O'Brien told my mother try to let him have animals to raise and take care of so he understands the life cycle. So his first choice was chickens. Then came the ducks, rabbits and fish. Mom stopped him when he asked for a goat! There were always chickens roaming our property.Two Lake Horns, a Rhode Island Red named Alice who took a baby duck under her wing. We had a black bantam named appropriately 'the Hawk'. We had a rooster who woke us every morning. The whole neighborhood as well.  Alice raised her own chicks. The hawk was our best layer. We always had fresh eggs. My Uncle Frank helped him build the coop. I have  fond memorys of trips to Agway to purchase "chicken mash" in large bags along with hay for the rabbits.
 Bob learned about the life cycle indeed! One night we had masked intruders in the coop !! We all awoke to a frenzy of clucking and squaking & feathers flying.. Racoons! Bob like the little man he had become ran out with the rest of us. They all were okay, but the Hawk was injured. Her comb was torn. We thought she wouldn't make it. Our mom was the queen of solutions. She cleaned the wound and wrapped gauze around its head . Well the hawk looked... very un hawkish. More like a picture out of a Beatrix Potter book. The Hawk had a bonnet!
 So his animals came and went. Bob learned about the "life cycle". He grew up went to art school in Manhattan had a cat named Putty in his apartment. Putty lived to be 17. He is an Art Director now. He and his wife Jeanne live on the beach. They have two cats, two dogs and there newest addition... four chickens. Silver Laced Wyandotte's. They are known for being docile, good egg producers and cold hearty. There names ..Fee , Fi, Fo & Fum. They roam his beach front property, while swans, geese, ducks and egrets float just feet away from them. I often think how much Bob is like my dad. Dad would have loved this. He probably would have named them Fee, Fi, Fo & Fum too!

Pickles

My fruit and vegetable garden has finally reached notable size at this time of year, and now the real harvesting begins.  Noticing a generous amount of cucumbers come through the back door, the man of the house put in a request for some Half-Sour Pickles.  Bless his Jewish heart.  Feeling up for the challenge this morning, I fulfilled his wishes.  He likes his food spicy and I had a few ripe chili peppers in the garden so I added them but they're optional of course.

• 5-6 SMALL, FRESH CUCUMBERS washed thoroughly & the very tip of the stem side cut-off to prevent softening.
• 3-4 GARLIC CLOVES smashed
• 1/2 CUP PICKLING SPICE
• 2 TBSP WHOLE BLACK PEPPERCORNS
• SEVERAL SPRIGS OF FRESH DILL
• 1/2 CUP SALT
• 8 CUPS WATER
• CHILI PEPPERS (optional)
• WAX PAPER
• CANNING JARS ( I used 1Qt.Wide Mouth Ball jars but you can improvise

Combine WATER, SALT, GARLIC, DILL, BLACK PEPPERCORNS & PICKLING SPICE.  Place CUKES into CANNING JARS.  Add CHILI PEPPERS (if you like). Pour liquid mixture over CUCUMBERS until COMPLETELY COVERED.




Loosely cover with wax paper.  Let sit in a cool place on the counter for about 2 days.  Then seal the lid and refrigerate for about 8 days more before eating.  Enjoy!

Summer Tablescape

I love to change up the centerpieces on my kitchen table throughout the year.  I've done several this summer but I think this one is my favorite.  A collection of old bottles, some greens and flowers from both the yard and the market and some shells from the beach and voila....

~Krishtia

My Hydrangea Heart

One of my very favorite things about summer-time is watching perennials get their "moment in the sun".  Dearest to my heart are hydrangea.  With their striking size and assortment of vibrant colors they're the heart and soul of the garden.  When I was a child, my grandma told me they bloomed for my July birthday.  Looking back, I am not sure if she meant to convince me that they bloomed for me as a sort of birthday gift or if she just meant they naturally coincided with my birthday - but I chose to believe the former.  She still picks a bouquet for my birthday every year and they'll forever be a reminder of her.

Yesterday, I was struck by the understated sparkle of the Limelight Hydrangea in bloom at my neighborhood's beach.

And perfectly on cue, a sailboat came into the picture...

I have many varieties in my own gardens.  I inherited a large hedge of Lacecap's when I bought my house that have tripled in size since.  Their various shades of violet and blue look so striking together.

Just two years ago, I planted what have become two huge pink Mophead's on each side of the stairs of my deck.  They're very happy there and their overflowing blooms are so heavy they're dragging on the ground.  They've made for plenty of beautiful arrangements over the past few weeks.
I have one white Annabelle hydrangea.  Annabelle is my grandmother's name and it is my ode to her and our hydrangea bond.  One day this summer, my mom showed up at my house with a fern.  She had dug it up from her garden for me to transplant to mine.  She explained that this fern was a descendant from my grandmother's garden and she had given its relative to my mother years before. But the ferns in my grandmother's garden originally came from Vermont, where my grandfather dug one up while on a family vacation back in the 1960's.  A multi-generational fern with some history.  Sadly, my grandfather died before I was born and this very day was the 45th anniversary of his death.  My mom said she hoped I would find a good place for it.  And I did, right next to Annabelle.

Driftwood Boats

I've been meaning to sit down for some time now and make use out of all the driftwood I've collected...  I think they came out pretty good!  Best part is there is so many different ways to construct them that each one can be as unique as the wood it is made of.

October Beach Bounty

Jackson & I took an impromptu walk along the beach this afternoon before the Nor'easter arrived.  Its a walk that we do fairly often, my only version of a hike... about a 1/2 mile walk along the beach, then there is a trail that cuts from the beach thru the woods to the road back home. I would guess about  1.5 miles roundtrip.   The trail is referred to 'round these parts as the "Gaza Strip"....I think the reference comes from the last name of the homeowner whose property borders the woods...which actually is Gaza and also which, ironically enough, is basically a narrow strip of woods that runs from the water up to the road.  Anyway, all summer, I've noticed the inordinate amount of blue crabs washed up on the beach.  Today there were more than ever.  Within steps of the first cobalt blue crab claw was a pair of realllly red leaves...fall.  Then colors took over my thoughts...and when I got home...the things in my pockets were such vibrant colors..all from nature (with the sea glass being a hybrid of sorts)....I am trying as I get older to embrace the beauty of fall (I am a Summer Girl after all).....

I love the yellow and green in this leaf...describes the time of year perfectly

Sunset last night...

Garden Food

Right about now is the time of year that I can listen to "The Boys of Summer" by Don Henley and enjoy it thoroughly.  Its a classic that I love but any earlier in the year and it sours my mood.  With each passing hour, I feel summer fading and weakening while fall powerfully takes hold.  That said, I'm taking a look back at some of this summer's culinary creations made with ingredients from the back yard and the bay beyond it...It was my rookie year with a vegetable garden -a wild success, I am in love forever. )

The source

First bounty

Garden tomatoes and green beans with local Blackfish caught by my neighbor

Heirloom Tomato Tart with Black Pepper Parmesean Crust....YUM

Fresh Roma Tomato Sauce with Basil & Parsley

Underground Dog Park

Despite the fact that dogs are not technically allowed on our main beach area or on the patio/deck area, our beach is being transformed into a virtual dog park in the mornings.  Today, there were 6 dogs.  All the dogs are generally social and there a few to no problems usually.   All the owners are responsible people who pick up after their dogs.  Yet as I write this, in the back of my mind I wonder, "Am I publicizing this for some people in the neighborhood to read who will surely scrutinize?"  Fame has not yet reached "A Year on the Beach" so I'll roll the dice for now.

Jackson was the last dog to leave the beach this morning but still didn't want to go...

Cheers....Two New Friends

Yesterday was the annual Huntington Lighthouse Music Festival and with the lighthouse just off our beach, we have great seats for the show.   The morning was gorgeous and Jackson and I walked as volunteers shuttled the band's and their equipment out to the lighthouse.  We arrived a bit late and missed Ramses so Jackson began staring at me as if to say "Uh, where are all the dogs?"  Every once in a while, when there are no  dogs at the beach, he will look at me and let out a pathetic cry, "You slept too long and now we missed my friends!" This always cracks me up because its really hard to be sympathetic when I know he lives an utterly spoiled dogs life. Boo-hoo.  He is on the beach, off a leash; he can swim, run, sniff and because there are no dogs there all of these normally exciting dog activities are just not enough for him.  Has he heard of puppy mills and animal shelters?  So, he wandered around looking bored and disappointed for awhile while I watched the activity unfold out at the lighthouse.

Then, just as Jackson had lost all hope in life, up walks Mookie and Cooper.  A Golden Retriever and a Yellow Lab who, as it turns out, just moved into the neighborhood. Eureka! Jackson is a big, 100 lb baby.  He has not a shred of aggression in him.  He will back down from any confrontation - guaranteed.  Alpha dog=not Jackson.  So, on his home turf, he cautiously, gingerly but amicably approached.  Cooper and Mookie were nice in return and the rest is history as they say.

Jackson's new friends are from Brooklyn and it showed when they got to the water.  The ran in as if they had just spent a long time in the desert.  They all swam and frolicked in the sand and poor Jackson's dog-less morning ended like most others do - exhausted, covered in sand and salt water and hungry for breakfast.

Mookie, Cooper & Spoiled Dog

Setting up on the lighthouse

The Storm That Wasn't

 The morning after and a delicate breeze and a few raindrops were all that Hurricane Earl managed to muster up before rumbling out to sea for good.  It was the return of Milly that was the story this morning.  Milly is a rescue dog from the South that can keep up with lightening-fast Ramses and despite being half Jackson's weight, can wrestle him to the ground like he's a wimpy chihuahua.  She has not been to the beach all summer and Jackson was thrilled to see her again. He thoroughly enjoyed every minute he spent pinned on his back.  He even got dunked while wrestling in the water.

The beach...no hurricane damage!

Milly, Ramses & Jackson

Waiting for Earl...

The first few raindrops began to fall a minute ago as Hurricane Earl approaches the North Shore of Long Island.  Jackson & I took our beach walk in the proverbial "calm before the storm".  The forecast seems to change minute to minute but it seems, at least for now, that we will only get a little rain and wind before the storm heads North and East leaving us with sunny weather for Labor Day Weekend.  Still, two hulking yachts have taken up temporary residence in the Huntington Bay.  I suppose they're en route to somewhere and taking refuge in calm waters until the storm passes.  The larger one (probably between 100-120 feet) is too far to get a good shot of but the smaller one (guessing about 80 feet) is parked right outside my back door since yesterday afternoon.

Fishing

Marc, my boyfriend, is a fisherman.  Earlier this summer, he started taking Jackson with him for quick fishing trips down to the beach in the evening - just for a half hour or so.  Pardon the pun, but the dog was instantly hooked.  He patiently stands next to him in the water waiting for a fish and when he catches one he cautiously smells them, maybe paws at it before it goes back into the water. 


So today I laughed when I saw him in the middle of playing with Sandy (Golden Retriever), Ramses (his best friend, Greyhound) and Holly (mutt with a crush on Jackson) stop in his tracks and run straight to the water when he heard fish jumping in the water.  He stood in a couple of inches of water and just watched them for a few minutes before returning to his buds.  Daddy would be so proud. 

The Fisherman

Jackson & Sandy

Mornings With Jackson

My dog, Jackson (aka Wubee), turned 2 last week.  Surprised at how quickly that happened, I decided to start this blog as a way to document my special mornings with my "Wubee".  Not too long ago, I wrote an article for my local newspaper, The Wincoman, about the first year we spent "on the beach".  I missed a lot in that first year by not writing this sooner but the article will give you the highlights and we'll take it from there...

A Year on The Beach
By Krishtia Lindgren

Just about every day of the past year and a half begins the same.  I rise in the morning and head to Wincoma beach with my loyal companion, Jackson, in tow.  Jackson is a big, brown, barking alarm clock who sees to it that we never miss our first appointment of the day.  Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays Jackson from the swift completion of his appointed rounds.  He’s a tried and true Certified Beach Dog.   Now I’ve always been a beach girl but never this devout.  I’ve created a monster though and there’s no turning back now.   And while this is undoubtedly a fabulous dogs life to have, to my surprise, its benefitted me as well. Never before have I seen the beauty of snow fall on the bay under a storm laden January sky.  Or the Osprey’s return in March to painstakingly re-build their nest. Schools of bunker chased out of the water by feeding bluefish in July.  The heat of the day begin to fill the thick August air.  Leaves in their October prime of vibrant fall colors casting rust and golden shadows over a tranquil harbor. Fog so thick the lighthouse is only apparent from its sounding horn. 

Now granted there are many mornings where leaving the warmth of my bed made me question the logic in creating this routine...for a dog no less! But once suited up in the appropriate foul weather gear, it became something of value for me too.  It gives me time to reflect, absorb nature, breathe.  There were mornings I’d leave the beach to board a plane for meetings in Boston or Chicago but despite the days stresses I carried my early morning walk in Wincoma in the back of my mind.  The serene still beauty of a morning on the beach is intoxicating.  Seagulls, ducks, cormorants, swans seeking out their breakfast.  The bay men leaving for their days work (there is one who brazenly sings opera at full volume as he drives his boat).   Such simple beauty. Upon the shore I’ve found countless pieces of sea glass and shells which are strewn throughout my home, someone’s mysteriously discarded purse, even a message in a bottle.  Jackson’s made dog friends, I’ve made people friends.  Yes, it took a dog to get me to be able to appreciate all of this.  He’s reconnected me with nature and one of my first loves, the beach.  A place of effortless magnificence.  And for that I thank him (even on cold February mornings).