The descent into Fall has been swift, like the leaves when they leave their trees. Some 65 years ago we were so dry and hot half of Maine burned; little local fires which became huge conflagrations that wiped out whole communities. Bar Harbor's seaside mansions owned by industrial and fnancial magnates burned as quickly and efficiently as the little hundred year old farms in the western part of the state. And my families own modest but comfortable and much loved seaside cottage in Goose Rocks Beach. Colorful hardwood foliage, some dry and fallen, some still glorious in gold and orange clinging to their branches, and deep green conifers thirsting for water needed to keep them alive through winter - all burned with ferocious intensity of color and heat. Acrid smoke drifted where the fire did not.
As I looked out my bedroom window from the cottage where we were still enjoying the last of good weather, I saw the balls of fire "topping off" over the tall pines of Crow Hill in Cape Porpoise and heard the screams of the fire engines as they raced here and there trying to find places where they might - just might - be able to stop it. My father said "Go to bed. There's a whole marsh between us that the ocean keeps wet every 12 hours. The fire won't cross that." How wrong he was - not often - but never more so than that night. We left that morning and by afternoon the our cottage and five others on that remote end of the beach on the edge of Batson's river was gone.
Well, we have had rain enough to keep the conifers healthy for winter.
The rocks along the roadside are weeping; the foliage which should be peaking in glorious crisp orange and yellow and rust and pale green is hanging limp and soggy, sad in the air which is also soggy and limp.
Turn on the furnace in early October? Unless you want to mold, you had better. Hunger for hot soup for supper? Absolutely. My grandson made me a large batch of Borscht; I revel in it's satisfying red warmth. Pack up the summer weight pants and shirts; put away the patio furniture; plant a few extra bulbs if you dare work in your soggy yard; hope for at least one really nice dry sunny day before snow-fall so you can clip back the roses and cover them, trim the butterfly bush and do one last round of weed-pulling to discourage them from coming back in April.
Maine is an interesting state which cannot be counted on from one year to the next for consistency. It;'s consistency is inconsistent, at best.
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
September song
September is 2/3 past and I have again this year come down with a cold. This ritual began when I worked in the school system. When the students came back with a variety of ailments, I always came down with a cold. NOt a bit convenient with the opening glitlches, and one of our key people taking several days off to attend the US Tennis Matches in New Hampshire. It was a given if they wanted her capable services the other 50 weeks of the year at least one week would be spent in NH in September. Anyway, it isn't quite as critical that I be well in September, but it is still a nuisance to have a cold.
The weather is beautiful! In this area everything is still green. The apples are ripe (and they've gone from $6 a bag of utilities to $10 three years.). I have been making apple sauce and have enough in the freezer to last about two months, which is fine, because by then I will be ready to face another cook off. I don't bake pies or crisps. I don't peel the apples, just wash them, core them and cook until tender. Then the Foley Food Mill, that marvelous invention, comes out and I set about grinding the pulp to a fine sauce. A little sugar (doens't take much) and a shake of ground cinnamon finishes it off. I put the end product into little 1/4 cup containers, as many as I have, and the rest in whatever I have handy. When my mother was making apple sauce, she peeled and cored and the apple sauce had chunkier texture. Next time around I might do that. Somehow, I think there is goodness in the cooked peels. OF course, she used to "boil down" the skins and cores, drain off the liquor through cheese cloth, add some pectin and make a fine jelly. Too much work for me. Smuckers is just fine.
Well, the hibiscus is still blooming as are the roses, Rose of Sharon and the purple and white butterfly bushes. The butterfly bushes are sometimes laden with Monarchs, and smaller similar butterflies. I would think if they are going to go somewhere for the winter, it is time for them to gather and leave.
Today the ground crew mowed. I think this has to be the very last mowing this season, but I did notice the sprinklers are still on in the early a.m. I think growing season is over, however.
I have seen a few skeins of geese flying over the marshes. And the egrets are still in town. I have not seen a great blue heron this year, but I haven't really just sat and watched for them. The marsh grasses have yellowed and the heather is purple. The scent is salty and smells more like straw than a month ago. We have had some really high tides and lovely "rollers". The surfers are having a bonus year.
Here in the Creek several neighbors have already gone south. Makes me wonder why they come at all - if they come in May and leave in September they miss a lot of nice Maine season changes. This time of year inspires an "end of season" outing, so the ladies of the Creek are meeting for lunch Saturday.
There are less than 50 days left until the Presidential election. I am truly sick of the vitriol, the lies, the flip-flopping and the endless phone calls. I had a call last night from Brunswick, ME. which was a four question quiz from the Angus King people They have a litany to read from and you can't throw them off course or they have to start over again. I thought I would give the young man with the deep voice and slight accent which I couldn't identify, a few minutes of my time. I've done those phone banks and it's a miserable way to spend an evening. But after asking did I know Mr. King was running? Yes. How likely are you to vote for Mr. King? Not likely.
May I send you some material which I think will help you understand him and how qualified he is? No. I was here when Mr. King was Governor King.
But if I send you some material, you might find it interesting. No, thank you, I don't want the material. I have seen a lot of the commericals and read quite a bit in the papers. (Big sigh) But that material may not be doing him justice and is probably slanted adversely. WHAT? THE ads which Mr. King "approves" might be adversely slanted? No, the opposition ads. I don't want any material. It will only ad to my recyclables. At which point I did hang up. You know, today's young people really don't know the meaning of the word "NO". That's sad.
We must make the most of the next few weeks which will bring us into fall with it's new palette of colors. I had been thinking I would take a trip into the middle of the state somewhere to really see the colors of the Rangely area.
But I am taking a three day trip to Massachusetts for a music event, so I probably won't, Big ideas, no action. I took a trip into the White Mountans a few years back by myself and the problem was, there was no one to OOH and AAH with. I did get lost, but I wasn't worried. I knew if I didn't drive over the edge of the road into a ravine, I'd eventually find my way out. But I did take a left turn at one point and ended up in a farmer's yard. He looked at me. I looked at him. I waved, smiled and said, "Sorry, I took a wrong turn." He nodded and walked toward his house with his Heinz 57 dog at his heels.
Enough. Unless we have something spectacular weatherwise, there isn't much happening to write about.
No matter when happens in the rest of the world, and right now horrendous things are happening, we circulate in our own sphere which here in Maine is reasonably peaceful and calm.
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
The weather is beautiful! In this area everything is still green. The apples are ripe (and they've gone from $6 a bag of utilities to $10 three years.). I have been making apple sauce and have enough in the freezer to last about two months, which is fine, because by then I will be ready to face another cook off. I don't bake pies or crisps. I don't peel the apples, just wash them, core them and cook until tender. Then the Foley Food Mill, that marvelous invention, comes out and I set about grinding the pulp to a fine sauce. A little sugar (doens't take much) and a shake of ground cinnamon finishes it off. I put the end product into little 1/4 cup containers, as many as I have, and the rest in whatever I have handy. When my mother was making apple sauce, she peeled and cored and the apple sauce had chunkier texture. Next time around I might do that. Somehow, I think there is goodness in the cooked peels. OF course, she used to "boil down" the skins and cores, drain off the liquor through cheese cloth, add some pectin and make a fine jelly. Too much work for me. Smuckers is just fine.
Well, the hibiscus is still blooming as are the roses, Rose of Sharon and the purple and white butterfly bushes. The butterfly bushes are sometimes laden with Monarchs, and smaller similar butterflies. I would think if they are going to go somewhere for the winter, it is time for them to gather and leave.
Today the ground crew mowed. I think this has to be the very last mowing this season, but I did notice the sprinklers are still on in the early a.m. I think growing season is over, however.
I have seen a few skeins of geese flying over the marshes. And the egrets are still in town. I have not seen a great blue heron this year, but I haven't really just sat and watched for them. The marsh grasses have yellowed and the heather is purple. The scent is salty and smells more like straw than a month ago. We have had some really high tides and lovely "rollers". The surfers are having a bonus year.
Here in the Creek several neighbors have already gone south. Makes me wonder why they come at all - if they come in May and leave in September they miss a lot of nice Maine season changes. This time of year inspires an "end of season" outing, so the ladies of the Creek are meeting for lunch Saturday.
There are less than 50 days left until the Presidential election. I am truly sick of the vitriol, the lies, the flip-flopping and the endless phone calls. I had a call last night from Brunswick, ME. which was a four question quiz from the Angus King people They have a litany to read from and you can't throw them off course or they have to start over again. I thought I would give the young man with the deep voice and slight accent which I couldn't identify, a few minutes of my time. I've done those phone banks and it's a miserable way to spend an evening. But after asking did I know Mr. King was running? Yes. How likely are you to vote for Mr. King? Not likely.
May I send you some material which I think will help you understand him and how qualified he is? No. I was here when Mr. King was Governor King.
But if I send you some material, you might find it interesting. No, thank you, I don't want the material. I have seen a lot of the commericals and read quite a bit in the papers. (Big sigh) But that material may not be doing him justice and is probably slanted adversely. WHAT? THE ads which Mr. King "approves" might be adversely slanted? No, the opposition ads. I don't want any material. It will only ad to my recyclables. At which point I did hang up. You know, today's young people really don't know the meaning of the word "NO". That's sad.
We must make the most of the next few weeks which will bring us into fall with it's new palette of colors. I had been thinking I would take a trip into the middle of the state somewhere to really see the colors of the Rangely area.
But I am taking a three day trip to Massachusetts for a music event, so I probably won't, Big ideas, no action. I took a trip into the White Mountans a few years back by myself and the problem was, there was no one to OOH and AAH with. I did get lost, but I wasn't worried. I knew if I didn't drive over the edge of the road into a ravine, I'd eventually find my way out. But I did take a left turn at one point and ended up in a farmer's yard. He looked at me. I looked at him. I waved, smiled and said, "Sorry, I took a wrong turn." He nodded and walked toward his house with his Heinz 57 dog at his heels.
Enough. Unless we have something spectacular weatherwise, there isn't much happening to write about.
No matter when happens in the rest of the world, and right now horrendous things are happening, we circulate in our own sphere which here in Maine is reasonably peaceful and calm.
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Into the Stretch
When I turn the calendar to August I know summer's days are numbered. This is a "blue moon" August. Don' t know what that means? It's the rare occasion when we get to enjoy two full moons in the same month. There was a full moon August 1, and we are in the waning stages of it. But the 17th of the month brings a new moon, and August 31 will see a second full moon.
Yesterday as I drove Route 1 through the Scarborough marshes I saw they were very flooded. We have not had significant rains so I am assuming we were experiencing a very high tide. No doubt the creeks were full of minnows and the bigger fish that follow them. I am not sure what is "running" right now, but the bridges and piers were lined with fishermen; men, women, little kids of all sizes, shapes and colors.
Wherever I lived before I had a quince bush. At my home on Dane Street in Kennebunk there were huges ones. WHen I had my first home on Maine Avenue in Portland I had one; and when I moved to Virginia Street I had one. The leaves always began to fall off on August 5th. And the hard green apples were exposed for ripening. But you wouldn't eat one even when ripe. If you were ambitious you might make quince apple jelly, but don't try to compare it to Smucker's Apple Jelly. It takes a lot of apples, a lengthy cooking, draining and straining and the result is not very flavorful.
In my yard here at my condo there are yellow, pink and red roses coming into second bloom. The Stella D'oro lillies, hardy and plentiful, hosta, and honeysuckle in bloom. The Rose of Sharon which I thought was dead two years ago when we moved it, has grown to three feet tall and loaded with buds about to burst.
The butterfly bushes in front and on the side are in full bloom.
I am aware that their days are short so will enjoy them while I can.
As I have mentioned before, Maine has a plethora of music events in summer. Every park, pavilion and gazebo is booked. Last week there was a concert in the Scarborough Downs property. Thousands of people gathered to hear Wiz Khalifa and
In Portland the Gentlemen of the Road are appearing on the Eastern Promenade. It will be a huge event which will temporarily (hopefully) transform the Promenade into a mini-arena.
This is now August 20. I am playing catch-up and saw that several issues were still in draft. I don't know why that happened, but I have not put them all into "publish" so if you're interested in the mundane happenings here, it's there for you.
My grandson Noah leaves today for Ohio State, third year. We had a nice visit Saturday and went to lunch. He is all grown up, finding out that what you think when you are 17 and 18 is not necessarily what you will think when you are 20. But he is smart and I feel confident he will find his passion in due time. He is the last to be in college until the next generation comes along.
All is well in the Northeast Corner - I like that thought. Look at a map if you don' t believe we own that title. The crickets are chirping tonight, or maybe they're some other leg-rubbing creature. They are noisy and all around the patio, along with a horde or herd of mosquitoes and night flying moths. I sat for about three minutes and decided I was seriously outnumbered.
Two nights ago there were thunder showers for several hours; last night the delayed fire works from Summerfest shook the earth for 45minutes; tonight it's the crickets. And when Nick settles down on his bed on the floor (since he can no longer easily get up on my bed) , he will begin his nighly groans which will give way to snores. Comfortable sounds that tell me I am not alone. And he doesn't complain about my snoring, so I won't complain about his.
Happy Blue Moon
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Yesterday as I drove Route 1 through the Scarborough marshes I saw they were very flooded. We have not had significant rains so I am assuming we were experiencing a very high tide. No doubt the creeks were full of minnows and the bigger fish that follow them. I am not sure what is "running" right now, but the bridges and piers were lined with fishermen; men, women, little kids of all sizes, shapes and colors.
Wherever I lived before I had a quince bush. At my home on Dane Street in Kennebunk there were huges ones. WHen I had my first home on Maine Avenue in Portland I had one; and when I moved to Virginia Street I had one. The leaves always began to fall off on August 5th. And the hard green apples were exposed for ripening. But you wouldn't eat one even when ripe. If you were ambitious you might make quince apple jelly, but don't try to compare it to Smucker's Apple Jelly. It takes a lot of apples, a lengthy cooking, draining and straining and the result is not very flavorful.
In my yard here at my condo there are yellow, pink and red roses coming into second bloom. The Stella D'oro lillies, hardy and plentiful, hosta, and honeysuckle in bloom. The Rose of Sharon which I thought was dead two years ago when we moved it, has grown to three feet tall and loaded with buds about to burst.
The butterfly bushes in front and on the side are in full bloom.
I am aware that their days are short so will enjoy them while I can.
As I have mentioned before, Maine has a plethora of music events in summer. Every park, pavilion and gazebo is booked. Last week there was a concert in the Scarborough Downs property. Thousands of people gathered to hear Wiz Khalifa and
In Portland the Gentlemen of the Road are appearing on the Eastern Promenade. It will be a huge event which will temporarily (hopefully) transform the Promenade into a mini-arena.
This is now August 20. I am playing catch-up and saw that several issues were still in draft. I don't know why that happened, but I have not put them all into "publish" so if you're interested in the mundane happenings here, it's there for you.
My grandson Noah leaves today for Ohio State, third year. We had a nice visit Saturday and went to lunch. He is all grown up, finding out that what you think when you are 17 and 18 is not necessarily what you will think when you are 20. But he is smart and I feel confident he will find his passion in due time. He is the last to be in college until the next generation comes along.
All is well in the Northeast Corner - I like that thought. Look at a map if you don' t believe we own that title. The crickets are chirping tonight, or maybe they're some other leg-rubbing creature. They are noisy and all around the patio, along with a horde or herd of mosquitoes and night flying moths. I sat for about three minutes and decided I was seriously outnumbered.
Two nights ago there were thunder showers for several hours; last night the delayed fire works from Summerfest shook the earth for 45minutes; tonight it's the crickets. And when Nick settles down on his bed on the floor (since he can no longer easily get up on my bed) , he will begin his nighly groans which will give way to snores. Comfortable sounds that tell me I am not alone. And he doesn't complain about my snoring, so I won't complain about his.
Happy Blue Moon
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
From the Northeast Corner
The Northeast Corner of the US is a beautiful place to be today. It is not too hot, but nice enough to go to a beach, either at the ocean on on a lake. The air is clear, the sky is blue and the land is lush. Lobsters are plentiful, therefore, a little less expensive; the fresh vegetables are ready for picking if you like new corn, cukes, and tomatoes. Not sure who is growing spinach outside, but I would be glad to have some.
But across the country - nearly all the way across - there is chaos. And because news travels fast in todays electronic world, it is coloring the lives of people everywhere, even here in the Northeast Corner. It is hard not to listen to the news, watch the televised reports. There is no good explanation of why we are fixated on such a tragedy. I certainly do not get a thrill out of it. I can't help anyone; even if I knew them, I couldn't help htem. I can, like most others, say a silent prayer for the comfort survivors, the relatives of the living and the deceased. I can even say a prayer for the perpetrator because he must surely be a tortured soul. It is tragedies like this that make me question my faith in a higher being that would allow such a thing to happen; that a child should die at the whim of a nut case.
Lest you think the Northeast Corner is totally devoid of them (the nut cases) let me remind you that several years ago a parishoner laced the after Sunday service coffee with arsenic which caused deaths and lasting illnesses.
Back to the Northeast Corner, the purple butterfly bush is truly gorgeous and yes, the humming bees have returned. Their memories are good. Where ever you are when you read this, remember -
"There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."
Leonard Cohen (1934 - ?)
jmajor
But across the country - nearly all the way across - there is chaos. And because news travels fast in todays electronic world, it is coloring the lives of people everywhere, even here in the Northeast Corner. It is hard not to listen to the news, watch the televised reports. There is no good explanation of why we are fixated on such a tragedy. I certainly do not get a thrill out of it. I can't help anyone; even if I knew them, I couldn't help htem. I can, like most others, say a silent prayer for the comfort survivors, the relatives of the living and the deceased. I can even say a prayer for the perpetrator because he must surely be a tortured soul. It is tragedies like this that make me question my faith in a higher being that would allow such a thing to happen; that a child should die at the whim of a nut case.
Lest you think the Northeast Corner is totally devoid of them (the nut cases) let me remind you that several years ago a parishoner laced the after Sunday service coffee with arsenic which caused deaths and lasting illnesses.
Back to the Northeast Corner, the purple butterfly bush is truly gorgeous and yes, the humming bees have returned. Their memories are good. Where ever you are when you read this, remember -
"There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."
Leonard Cohen (1934 - ?)
jmajor
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Short Cuts
I was sitting in my car this morning waiting for the AC to kick in, meanwhile, with the window open letting out the heat from the early a.m. sun. I was on my way to music class in Portland, with plenty of time to spare so sititng for a minute or two was pleasantly relaxing. The butterfly bush had begun to bloom with great purple blossoms, and the bachellor's buttons, also purple were in bloom. I can hardly wait for the little humming bees and humming birds to return to enjoy their nectaring. My neighbor came out to chat and while standing there a rather agresive bee flew between us. She stepped back and the bee flew into the car. She said, THAT IS A BEE!" and I said, "I hope it finds it's way back out." But it already had. It was taking a short cut through the car to the butterfly bush. Smart bee.
When I got on the road I contemplated which route I would take. Of several ways from Scarborough to Portland, all have ongoing construction. The Maine Turnpike seems to take me too far afield to be a practical choice. SO, I opted for the shortest route, which I have navigated many times lately so I do know the construction routine: stay right here, go left there, watch for the shifting lanes, etc. Jersey barriers, (you know, those cement monuments to construction crews) orange barrels,signs that say Double Fines for Speeding.
At least this route would take me to an off-ramp which would put me on the correct avenue for my destination. Getting to the construction area, traffic stopped. A screaming police car passed in the "NO TRAFFIC" lane. (I am already thinking I should have taken the long way around.) We crawled several miles, and several minutes, finally coming upon a tank truck a quarter of a mile long (well, maybe that's a littel exaggeration) which had broken down. Once past it, traffic began to move at a normal speed. And then, at the off-ramp which would have taken me to Forest Avenue, there was an army of orange barrells and signs "Ramp Closed" . Now I had two more choices: the next off ramp which would necessarily take me through three lighted intersections; or the next one after that which would take me further away from my destination, but onto a scenic route on which to backtrack.
I chose the next ramp thinking it is, after all, the shortest route, and once again found myself behind a street sweeper going five miles an hour and leaving more dust than it was taking. So much for "short cuts." And speaking of same, I had my first grade grandchild and a four year old pre-schooler girl I was taking care of in the car with me. I asked my grandson how come he was not where I expected him to be and he said, "I took a short cut." The four year old said, "I had a short cut once and I was mad at my mother. I like my hair when she braids it." I still chuckle when I think of it. American English is hard to get around even for natives!
So, in the heat of July, and it is hot today and predicted to be hot for the next three or four days, I will avoid "short cuts" except at my hair dressers, where I am headed as I end this. I expect her to give me a very "short cut."
jmajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
When I got on the road I contemplated which route I would take. Of several ways from Scarborough to Portland, all have ongoing construction. The Maine Turnpike seems to take me too far afield to be a practical choice. SO, I opted for the shortest route, which I have navigated many times lately so I do know the construction routine: stay right here, go left there, watch for the shifting lanes, etc. Jersey barriers, (you know, those cement monuments to construction crews) orange barrels,signs that say Double Fines for Speeding.
At least this route would take me to an off-ramp which would put me on the correct avenue for my destination. Getting to the construction area, traffic stopped. A screaming police car passed in the "NO TRAFFIC" lane. (I am already thinking I should have taken the long way around.) We crawled several miles, and several minutes, finally coming upon a tank truck a quarter of a mile long (well, maybe that's a littel exaggeration) which had broken down. Once past it, traffic began to move at a normal speed. And then, at the off-ramp which would have taken me to Forest Avenue, there was an army of orange barrells and signs "Ramp Closed" . Now I had two more choices: the next off ramp which would necessarily take me through three lighted intersections; or the next one after that which would take me further away from my destination, but onto a scenic route on which to backtrack.
I chose the next ramp thinking it is, after all, the shortest route, and once again found myself behind a street sweeper going five miles an hour and leaving more dust than it was taking. So much for "short cuts." And speaking of same, I had my first grade grandchild and a four year old pre-schooler girl I was taking care of in the car with me. I asked my grandson how come he was not where I expected him to be and he said, "I took a short cut." The four year old said, "I had a short cut once and I was mad at my mother. I like my hair when she braids it." I still chuckle when I think of it. American English is hard to get around even for natives!
So, in the heat of July, and it is hot today and predicted to be hot for the next three or four days, I will avoid "short cuts" except at my hair dressers, where I am headed as I end this. I expect her to give me a very "short cut."
jmajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Deep Summer and Loving It
This is what I call "deep summer". When July 4th arrives it signals we are into what Maine is all about. The last couple of weeks, since summer was marked by the calendar, have brought us rain, thrunder, hail, wind, humidity and what some think is unseasonable heat. Now we settle into summer with all the tourists, town fairs, old home days, art shows, clam and lobster festivals, and the great MOXIE DAYS, which is held in Lisbon Falls, Maine, the second weekend in July (this year on June 8th).
A doctor* created Moxie as an elixir which was given by the spoonful for a variety of symptoms. Then in 1876 it was made into a carbonated beverage in Union, Maine. My father liked Moxie. When we went on picnics that was the drink we took. I didn't like it as a child, but acquired a taste for it as I grew older. I haven't had any for many years, and don't know that I would like it so much now. I have a tendency to like sweet things as I age, and I hardly ever drink carbonated drinks. The Moxie Festival has grown since the first one in 1983, and now includes a 5K road race, car show, lots of memorabelia and souvenirs. It is a "three day powwow." (It's a wonder that is still poliltically correct language, since it's not connected to the Indians in any way.) There is no reason to be bored in Maine in the summer. This year, lobsters shed their shells early so the delicacy is plentiful and slightly less costly as they re-emerge with soft new homes; the beaches are clean, (yes they are, in spite of what the government says) and the ocean and lakes are warmer than usual for this time of year.
I deadheadded the roses; poor things were beaten and battered by the recent high winds, hail and rain. And cleaned out the foxglove which is so beautiful when in bloom, but downright nasty looking when they "go by."
I cannot keep the weeds out of the mulch bed, but the mulch bed was a bad idea to begin with. It seemed so reasonable that it would be a good place for Nick to "go" and much easier for me to keep clean. He doesn't "go" there, but he loves to lay down in it, and being a hairy monster, he drags in mulch with every trip. I have taught him to shake on command out there, (which proves you CAN teach an old dog new tricks) and it eliminates some, but I am constantly fighting to keep it out of the carpet.
I think in the fall I will spread some loam and seed it for next year.
July's moon is the Buck Moon. It was full last night, but in the early waning nights it will still look bright and wash my yard with cool light. The mosquitos found the patio last night, so I will enjoy the adjoining four-season room with the screened door and windows open. A well known poet implied there is nothing so "rare as a day in June" but I am inclined to think evenings in July in Maine are practically idyllic, and pretty rare as in a good year we probably can only count on 25 of them at most.
*From Maine but practicing in Massachusetts
janmajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Credit: Moxie Days:MELiving.com
A doctor* created Moxie as an elixir which was given by the spoonful for a variety of symptoms. Then in 1876 it was made into a carbonated beverage in Union, Maine. My father liked Moxie. When we went on picnics that was the drink we took. I didn't like it as a child, but acquired a taste for it as I grew older. I haven't had any for many years, and don't know that I would like it so much now. I have a tendency to like sweet things as I age, and I hardly ever drink carbonated drinks. The Moxie Festival has grown since the first one in 1983, and now includes a 5K road race, car show, lots of memorabelia and souvenirs. It is a "three day powwow." (It's a wonder that is still poliltically correct language, since it's not connected to the Indians in any way.) There is no reason to be bored in Maine in the summer. This year, lobsters shed their shells early so the delicacy is plentiful and slightly less costly as they re-emerge with soft new homes; the beaches are clean, (yes they are, in spite of what the government says) and the ocean and lakes are warmer than usual for this time of year.
I deadheadded the roses; poor things were beaten and battered by the recent high winds, hail and rain. And cleaned out the foxglove which is so beautiful when in bloom, but downright nasty looking when they "go by."
I cannot keep the weeds out of the mulch bed, but the mulch bed was a bad idea to begin with. It seemed so reasonable that it would be a good place for Nick to "go" and much easier for me to keep clean. He doesn't "go" there, but he loves to lay down in it, and being a hairy monster, he drags in mulch with every trip. I have taught him to shake on command out there, (which proves you CAN teach an old dog new tricks) and it eliminates some, but I am constantly fighting to keep it out of the carpet.
I think in the fall I will spread some loam and seed it for next year.
July's moon is the Buck Moon. It was full last night, but in the early waning nights it will still look bright and wash my yard with cool light. The mosquitos found the patio last night, so I will enjoy the adjoining four-season room with the screened door and windows open. A well known poet implied there is nothing so "rare as a day in June" but I am inclined to think evenings in July in Maine are practically idyllic, and pretty rare as in a good year we probably can only count on 25 of them at most.
*From Maine but practicing in Massachusetts
janmajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Credit: Moxie Days:MELiving.com
Monday, June 18, 2012
Almost Summer
It is now June 18 - Summer IS just around the corner. The post below was in my draft file, and there is little I will add or I will be boring myself as well as you. I have been to Yarmouth with Nick a couple of times recently. I am being redundant mentioning that the rock faces are changing with the season, just as the the depth of color of the evergreens, and the matruation of the rest of our foliage. In my back yard the roses are in bloom, the foxglove is four feet tall by my patio room window. I am enjoying sitting out there watching the bees and other honey-seekers go in and out on their rounds. With this much added to the should-have-been-posted blog below, I am now going to return to shredding. And shredding. And shredding. I hope I will not be looking for something a year from now which is ending up in confetti.
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It is cliche to comment that time flies as you get older, so I won't say it. But it does. Today, June 10 is absolutely the "rare day in June" . I spent some time on the patio earlier but had to come in because it is just too hot in the a.m. out there. Probably close to 80 at 9:30. Night before last we had a couple of thunder storms which produced - I am not exaggerating - hail in size from peas to moth balls. I sat in my living room beneath my skylights and wondered if the glass would be able to withstand the pounding. My dog, Nick, is not concerned with weather. He pays no attention to thunder and lightning, but hail freaks him out. We were caught in a sudden storm once with sizeable hail stones. We had been walking in an open field when I saw a storm cloud being driven by a strong wind. We didn't quite make it to the car before the cloud was directly over us, but the worst was sitting in the car being pelted with hail, watching it bounce around off the hood, the windshield, and the road around us. It was beginning to build up on the ground, when as swiftly as it came it blew past. I got home, not more than a mile away and mentioned it to my neighbor who said, "What hail storm?" It was of small dimensions but very powerful.
Grandkids are home from college. One graduated, one becoming a Junior in the fall.
Friends are golfing; going off to camp; talking of family reunions and other summer activities. Ronald McDonald House held their Purses with Purpose event last week. A fun time with the opportunity to bid on fabulous hand bags, day-at-a-spa gift certificates, fun jewelry, collections of bath products and other personal items. One interesting item (I did not bid on it) was a three-item "collection" from a local bakery. Iced cake, package of a dozen or so cookies and a generous package of home made fudge. I did bid on "Lunch for Ten" at RMH catered by the staff and won it. It should be a lot of fun. SO, Life in Maine in June is good. Everyting is green and clean. The only detractor is the road construction and repair going on everywhere! Getting from Scarborough to Portland is a challenge of patience. A motorcycle accident on one of the bridges proved there are no sure choices to avoid a problem. We are at the mercy of the other driver.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is cliche to comment that time flies as you get older, so I won't say it. But it does. Today, June 10 is absolutely the "rare day in June" . I spent some time on the patio earlier but had to come in because it is just too hot in the a.m. out there. Probably close to 80 at 9:30. Night before last we had a couple of thunder storms which produced - I am not exaggerating - hail in size from peas to moth balls. I sat in my living room beneath my skylights and wondered if the glass would be able to withstand the pounding. My dog, Nick, is not concerned with weather. He pays no attention to thunder and lightning, but hail freaks him out. We were caught in a sudden storm once with sizeable hail stones. We had been walking in an open field when I saw a storm cloud being driven by a strong wind. We didn't quite make it to the car before the cloud was directly over us, but the worst was sitting in the car being pelted with hail, watching it bounce around off the hood, the windshield, and the road around us. It was beginning to build up on the ground, when as swiftly as it came it blew past. I got home, not more than a mile away and mentioned it to my neighbor who said, "What hail storm?" It was of small dimensions but very powerful.
Grandkids are home from college. One graduated, one becoming a Junior in the fall.
Friends are golfing; going off to camp; talking of family reunions and other summer activities. Ronald McDonald House held their Purses with Purpose event last week. A fun time with the opportunity to bid on fabulous hand bags, day-at-a-spa gift certificates, fun jewelry, collections of bath products and other personal items. One interesting item (I did not bid on it) was a three-item "collection" from a local bakery. Iced cake, package of a dozen or so cookies and a generous package of home made fudge. I did bid on "Lunch for Ten" at RMH catered by the staff and won it. It should be a lot of fun. SO, Life in Maine in June is good. Everyting is green and clean. The only detractor is the road construction and repair going on everywhere! Getting from Scarborough to Portland is a challenge of patience. A motorcycle accident on one of the bridges proved there are no sure choices to avoid a problem. We are at the mercy of the other driver.
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