Calendar - Barbara Ford Doyle Calendars, Chatham, Cape Cod, Massachusetts

Calendar 2010 is twelve separate works of art. Each month's drawing celebrates the commonplace—joyful subjects in my Cape Cod environment. Original work is rendered in pencil and watercolor media and reproduced in full color on coated matte paper. Please email me if you have any questions. Calendar sets are available in 11 x 14 in. poster prints and 4 x 6 in. mini prints.

	Behind the Chatham Post Office is an antiques shop. Diane, the owner, moves her inventory in and out of the front window. Always looking for a “month idea,” I spotted a pair of figure skates. But these weren’t just any figure skates—they were signed by Olympic medalist, Nancy Kerrigan. “Colleen,Believe in Yourself,” is written on one skate. As I finished my illustration, I wondered, What happened to Colleen?
	Cut pastry with a large heart-shaped cookie cutter. Put raspberry filling on half of the hearts. Moisten edges with cold water. Cover with remaining pastry hearts and press edges together with a 3-tined fork. Use pastry scraps for small heart decorations. Prick the tops well. Bake till delicately brown and delicious.
	The sign of the Fishes is the last sign of the Zodiac—February 19-March 20. Downloading information, I highlighted what characteristics a Piscean person—me—supposedly has. Let’s say I picked out words that are flattering. Words like “mature,” “extremely creative,” “sensitive,” “artistic,” and “spiritual.” Right on! I thought. I do enjoy my own company. I do enjoy what nature has to offer. Then I tripped over the word “gentle.” I won’t confess which other ones. Suddenly I felt like a fraud. I’m not that person. Maybe I should check another site. As for the fishes? I asked my fishmonger for a whole cod, used it for artistic reference… then boiled it for chowder.
	If you collect eggcups, you are a pocillovist. I had (operative word) one eggcup on my kitchen shelf—the yellow duck with the cup riding on its back. It’s a souvenir from childhood. In fact, one side has *Barby* stenciled in black letters. Eggcups come in a variety of themes—traditional pedestal shapes, single or double cups, faces, floral, Victorian, or novelty characters—and a huge selection of materials. As collectibles go, they are still quite affordable.
	Perennial succulents such as “cobweb” Sempervivum arachnoideum consist of clusters of low, spreading rosettes with criss-crossed white hairs. Each “hen” produces “chicks.” Used in rock gardens or as ground cover for dry locations, these plants withstand cold temperatures and prolonged hot drought—perfect no-care plants.
	"Open" signs sprout up like seeds in a garden. It’s a seasonal event especially on the lower Cape, where many restaurants have been closed for the winter months. Places like Mac’s Shack in Wellfleet attract visitors to dine al fresco. Mac’s used to be the old Lobster Hut, where you’d get a bib and boiled lobster—the iconic fisherman is still perched in his boat on the roof, pulling up a giant lobster. Of course, lobster still is on the menu—also zucchini blossoms stuffed with ricotta and figs.
	Drive by the overlook at Chatham Light any morning and you will see cars parked (even in fog) facing east. Occupants are drinking coffee, reading newspapers, talking on cell phones, and staring out to sea. Fishing boats thread their way through marked channels. An off shore wind blows cresting waves back toward Spain. Gulls—statuesque atop quarter slot machines— are on the lookout for… doughnut crumbs!
	Leaves from tall cattails can be harvested and twisted into cords for making baskets, mats, and for seat-weaving chairs. Depending on where you live, the dense brown spikes (catkins) mature in August or early September. Masses of seed-carrying fluff blow off in the wind.
	Chill mornings and the smell of someone burning wood triggers a primordial response in me to preserve food. Or perhaps it’s a practical matter. What to do with forty-seven red peppers saved from frost, sitting on the kitchen table? I don’t use old canning jars anymore, but I take them out, along with my mother-in-law’s piccalilli recipe, as part of my ritual.
	All oaks, Quercus, are noted for their acorns which my handbook says “provide the best means of identification.” But acorns may ripen in the first year or second year, and sometimes “biennial maturation may be mistaken for annual maturation…” Hybridization among species of oaks “has been widely documented.” Some leaves are toothed, lobed or unlobed; secondary veins, branched or unbranched. Then, too, there are galls caused by insects—those papery balls attached to oak hosts—some umpteen hundred different kinds! It suits me (remember, I’m a Pisces) to rustle through unidentified leaves and photograph my red terrier.
	My friends live in an antique Cape Cod house. It has low ceilings and steep staircases—and a cold kitchen. At the foot of one staircase is a hooked rug (detail) signed by Helen V. Lilly. Mrs. Lilly was born in 1899 and moved to Harwich in 1959. She was recognized professionally for her fine work. No piece of material, coat, blanket or clothing was wasted. Two figures stand in the doorway. Two boats sail in the harbor.
	A bear, however hard he tries, Grows tubby without exercise. Winnie-The-Pooh, the original teddy bear that inspired these words by A.A. Milne is under glass with his buddies in the Donnell Library Center in New York City. I read recently that a group at MIT has designed a prototype robotic bear, called Huggable, with video-camera eyes and a PC for brains—a bear supposedly able to sense your feelings. Wouldn’t Christopher Robin say, that’s nothing new for bears?