Vix Voice

Friends and Artists

Sometimes, friends and artists are the same. I'm lucky to have a pal like fiber artist Lisa Souza. I met Lisa through her yarn, of all things. She's amazing as both a spinner and a dyer of all fibers. She featured The Bone Man on her blog, and I'll let you read what Lisa had to say. Her Tilt a Whirl blog is here. Below is the way-cool shot of The Bone Man in the California woods!

Here is some of Lisa's gorgeous work:

You can find her and her yarn and patterns at www.lisaknit.com

Now...on to the Dublin Art Tour. Yes, I'm in a frenzy getting ready for the 12th art tour and my third. I can't quite believe that, but it's true. Here are some photos that I'll be showing on the tour. But first, here's the invitation I'm sending out.
You can find more about the tour at: www.monadnockart.org
And now for some of my recent photos. I'll let them speak for themselves. Have a good one!

Maine Journey

Just got back from a Maine Journey. Nothing in this world is like Maine - her rocky coast and vibrant hues and otherworldliness that permeates the air. Although I lived in Maine for six years, loving it, I still find it exotic in places. And, no, I don't mean Portland or Falmouth, but rather DownEast. (If you need an explanation of DownEast, I'm happy to provide it.) My friend, Andrea, and I went on a knitting journey. We knit, we sculpted, we talked art and sculpture and knitting and Life with artist Katharine Cobey at her Cushing, Maine studio. A gorgeous three days, and now I'm back at work. Wednesday Bill and I speak in Bugbee, NH, and on Saturday we have another speaking engagement, this time in Bradford, NH. Saturday is the Hancock Woman's Club Barn Tour, where friends and I will be exhibiting our photos, along with some marvelous NH painters and craftspeople. And the following week is the Dublin Art Tour. More photos from our Maine Journey. I'm ready to return! Christina's World is the location of the famous Wyeth painting. Christina's home was in Cushing, Maine, and it's now a museum. The home overlooks an inlet and it evokes all sorts of mixed emotions. Until we meet again.

There and Back Again...

What a summer! I haven't posted since June. Since then, I've been to the Vineyard for our dear friend - Phil Craig's - memorial. It was a splendid and fitting send off for Phil, yet I continue to wish he was still of this earth. Damn, I miss him! I kayaked like a banshee

And I created two auction catalogs for The Cobbs (my new day job). I've seen my boys - Ben and Blake - and two of my stepkids - Mike and Sarah - and worked on my new, unnamed-as-yet novel, TallyV.
I've knit with Cindy's Knitters, hugged (many times) my husband Bill, and cared for Muffin and Burt and Gracie and Cranberry. And I've seen the death of another dear friend, one for whom death was literally a release from Hell. I have realized - again - how blessed I am in my family and friends. Life in Hancock, NH, is a good one.
The Grief Shop won the Daphne du Maurier award for Best Mainstream Mystery/Suspense Novel from RWA's Kiss of Death chapter. Pretty neat, eh? The Bone Man is Out! I'm pretty darned excited about that, and I've got a bunch of speaking engagements in the next month or so. Check out my Web site (www.vickistiefel.com) for dates and times.



I'm in the process of preparing photos for my participation in the Dublin Art Show. It's always fun and intense. This image will be in the show and is called "From My Window—1"
Bill's newest book - One-Way Ticket - is also out! It's Brady Coyne's newest adventure, and it's awfully good.
And that's about all for now. Coming up is a visit with Katharine Cobey, a fabulous sculptor who uses knitting as her medium. We'll be seeing stepdaughter Melissa soon, along with her fella, Jeff, all of the other kids (I hope), Bill's mom and sis, and our family in South Carolina. It's a busy fall, but I'm vowing - yet again - to be a more faithful blogger. We'll see.
Cheers and all that good stuff. Autumn is upon us!

New Life...

I never grow tired of spring or of the new life it brings. Each year we've lived at Chickadee Farm, we've been blessed with hatchlings in the barn. Sometimes sparrows, sometimes robins, sometimes both. I always take pictures, and the funny thing is, they always look pretty much the same. But somehow, someway, each year's photo of baby birds in our barn feels like such a renewal to me.

I thought I'd missed the show this year. By the time I saw the robin babies over the barn door that leads to our pasture, they were large...fledglings, in fact. About to fly the nest. I never did get that photo, and I was sad.

But surprise! Another group of hatchlings - swallows - peeked above the top of the gorgeous nest on the middle beam of our barn. Last year, no babies were born in that nest, and so I was thrilled to see a trio there this year.

Another year at Chickadee Farm. These years are good ones. Just look at the life that surrounds us.

The Wild Show Continues

I really thought the spectacular critters of Chickadee Farm were done, at least for the moment. And, no, I haven't seen our delicious Indigo Bunting again, so I just had to republish his photo, he was that gorgeous. But I was wrong about the critter sightings being over. Boy, was I ever. Day after the bunting, I spotted this quite spectacular Baltimore oriole in our apple tree. Isn't he a beauty? And so you don't think I'm just about the flash, check out the sweet chickadee  and grosbeak. And the goldfinches are everywhere, of course. But as much as I love our birdies, as they used to say in Show Biz, "That ain't all, folks."

Picture it - one a.m., two nights ago, Muffin (our wee black dog) starts howling. Soon, Burt , our Brittany, joins in, as does Gracie, our basset hound.  For those of you who know me well, you've figured out what all the howling was about:  a bear. Not just any bear, but a Large Ursine Creature.  He or she (somehow, she seemed awfully female to me)  stole our feeders, which we should have not had out at night, and came right up on the deck while Bill , myself and the dogs were howling-shouting at her. She reached up and stole the suet feeder!  This was one gutsy bear. She hung around for about ten minutes, then vamoosed.  Sorry the photo isn't better, but here she is:

But are we done? Heck no! (I think Phil's been busy, sending this raft of critters  our way.)  The following morning, after we'd retrieved the feeders, yet before we'd put them out (now only during the day), we had another Large Visitor. This one is right in front of my office sliding window. Did I notice right away? Naw. See, I was busily composing  when I sensed a Presence ,  a Large Presence  looming. So I looked up, and what did I see? (No, not an out-of-focus shepherd's crook), but a bear, a different bear. This fella (or girl) was smaller, less gutsy, and far more tentative. Plus, he was out during the day. Unusual. Hysterical with excitement, I grabbed my Nikon, still set on the night-time setting, and shot away, hence the not-so-hot images. But, heck, I bet you get the idea. 

 

And today?  Gorgeous, sunny, and  filled with the smell of spring and an absence of large, furry creatures. Maybe they'll be back, or not, since we've taken in the feeders. But, you know, I figure we've been blessed. 

Wild at Chickadee Farm

If you who think we lead a boring, tedious life here in New Hampshire at Chickadee Farm, we'd like you to check out today's visitors. They were quite remarkable. First was Foxy, who visits regularly. Problem is, I can't seem to grab my camera fast enough, as she crosses the yard and then disappears into our woods. Here's a not-so-hot photo:

We were thrilled to see her, but wait! The dogs began howling soon after Foxy left, and we had a sweet young buck come visit for a bit of nosh. He was not disappointed, and he lingered quite awhile.

Finally, when we were all calmed down, we celebrated the Main Event -- Bill noticed something bright blue on the feeder just outside my office. At first we thought it was a bluebird, but once we checked out the bird book, we knew we were being visited by an Indigo Bunting, a bird neither of us has ever seen in person before. Mind you, he's perched less than ten feet from where I write my novels. Cranberry, our young kitty, was quite disappointed she couldn't reach the Indigo. Isn't he gorgeous? It was raining, and I had to shoot through glass, but what a treat!

So, no, life on the farm is never boring, and sometimes we're blessed with unexpected visitors who give us a thrill.

Happy Day.

P.S. - I'd like to think that just maybe the Indigo Bunting was a sign from Phil, saying that he was okay, that all was as it should be, that we would see him again. I know - sounds sort of crazy. But stranger things have happened.

You Were Delish

My dear friend, Philip R. Craig, died yesterday. He left us way too soon. Objectively, he was a writer of the Martha's Vineyard J.W. Jackson mystery series...a surf caster and sailor...a champion fencer...an English professor...a teacher of writing...a scallop-er and clam-er...a singer...a writer of the cookbook "Delish" with his wife, Shirley...a collaborator with my husband, Bill, on three J.W. Jackson/Brady Coyne mysteries...a dad to Jamie and Kim...a grandfather, too...and a cowboy from Durango, none of which really describes the man that we all loved.

Phil was BIG. He was tall, maybe 6'5", and broad, and when he talked he waved his arms. His whole body talked, really, but it was his booming voice that grabbed the attention. You just knew his deep-throated laughter would thunder up any minute, no matter the topic.

Phil loved well, too. He and his wife, Shirley, (a buddy of mine), were peas in a pod. They traveled the world together, had adventures together, had kids together, had good times and bad times together. They defined a great marriage, at least in my eyes.

I rarely saw Phil angry, yet when he did express displeasure, say, at man's cruelty to man or beast, he was volcanic in his fury. But anger wasn't really Phil's way. He smiled often, and his grin rose from his lips to the gleam in his eyes. Phil Craig was full of mischief!

I meander. Please forgive me. But it's hard to contain Phil on the written page. Like I said, he was BIG. But it wasn't his physical presence that defined him, but rather his big-heartedness, his generosity of spirit, his large intelligence, and his big-beautiful ability to squeeze every ounce of life out of each day. Phil defined the term, Living with Gusto.

So it's really incomprehensible that he's gone so swiftly or so soon.

Phil Craig is the only man who ever offered - offered! - to take me shopping, just because he knew it would please me. That shopping excursion resulted in an up-close-and-personal viewing of Bill Clinton and Chelsea in Vineyard Haven, not to mention me getting to pet Clinton's chocolate Lab, Buddy. We returned home with great tales to tell, all of which Phil told in his inimitable, exuberant style. The man was a great storyteller.

The four of us—Phil and Shirl, Bill and I—had synchronicity.

Goddamn, I'm going to miss you, Phil Craig. Many folks who knew you, either personally or through your writing, will miss you, too. So will my dear Bill, your great friend and co-conspirator on books, tall tales, and the Phil 'n' Bill Show.

And we'll keep an eye out for Shirley and the Vineyard and Durango gang. We'll send them love, too. And hugs. Not quite the same, but we'll try our best.

Bottom line is Bill and I were lucky to know you. At all times and in all ways, my dear Phil, you were Delish.

My New CDs

Did I mention I've got two CDs out? Yup! One is Body Parts and the other is The Dead Stone. Each is unabridged and read by a very cool gal. Here are the covers.

Next week, Bill and I have a busy one. We're speaking at the Boxoborough, Mass., library, which is near Harvard and Acton and Concord, where we lived in Mass. Should be a blast. We'll also be speaking in Northfield, Mass., on the 27th. Another cool venue. You can find info for all of my speaking engagements here.

We're off to Ellsworth (ME) and Tuftonboro (NH) in a couple of weeks. More speaking engagements and two great places. Can't wait!

The NH Wool Festival is in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to that, too. Any of my four (yes, four!) blog readers going to the festival?

Have a swell weekend,
Vix

Here Comes the Sun!

After endless days of grey skies, pounding rains, snow, more rain, floods, building an ark, the sun came out today. Yeah! Just gorgeous, with not a cloud in the sky.

On a completely different note... Here's my new cover for The Bone Man, which will be out in late August/early September. It's the fourth Tally Whyte homicide counselor novel, and takes place in Boston, Martha's Vineyard, and New Mexico. Yup - New Mexico!

Isn't it juicy? I LOVE it! Hope you do, too.

Vonnegut

Vonnegut has died. He was crazy and funny and brilliant and, ultimately, believed in humanity. If you haven't read him, give him a shot. What a legacy!

A poem of Kurt Vonnegut's is particularly apt in these days:

When the last living thing

has died on account of us,

how poetical it would be

if Earth could say,

in a voice floating up

perhaps

from the floor

of the Grand Canyon,

“It is done.”

People did not like it here.

****
Snow remains on the ground here in Hancock, and I miss the spring. So here's a taste of what's to come in a few weeks.