Pop! The cork of my jug of new made yeast has just struck the ceiling. That brew has been a part of this day’s work. Hops, potatoes, flour, sugar, raisins, and yeast; stewed and strained and bottled. To-day also was completed and served the first.
Fox Island Corn Souffle
“Take two cups of samp (whole hominy) and stew for an indefinite time in salted water (it should cook at least three or four hours). It should boil almost dry. Make of the remainder of the water and some milk two cups of cream sauce dissolving in it some cheese. Mix with the corn and pour into a baking dish. Spread cheese over the top and put into oven to brown.”
We offer this delicious discovery to the world on the condition only that “Fox Island Corn Souffle” shall be printed on the menu wherever it is used.
I made to-day a grandfather’s chair for myself. It is as comfortable as it is beautiful.
Every day I read in the “History of Irish Literature.” The Deirdre Saga I read to-day. It must be one of the most beautiful and the most perfect stories in all the world. So little do we feel ourselves related, here in this place, to any one time or to any civilization that at a thought we and our world become whom and what we please. Rockwell has been a cave dweller hunting the primeval forest with a stone hatchet and a bow of alder strung with a root. To me it is the heroic age in Ireland.
Wednesday, October second.
Incessant, hard rain. The two artists at their work a good part of the day, Rockwell making several new drawings in his book of wonderful animals. We bathed and I washed the accumulated clothes of several weeks. And to-night Olson came for a long call. He’s a good story teller and his experiences are without end. And so closes this day—with the rain still pouring monotonously on the roof.
Thursday, October third.
To-day was fair at sunrise, cloudy at nine o’clock, and showery all the rest. We worked again with the beloved cross-cut saw, setting ourselves an almost unattainable task—and then surpassing it. And I cleared the thicket for a better view of the mountain to the south; and in the afternoon felled another large tree. Stretched canvass for a while; and painted and drew, and felt the goddess Inspiration returning to me.