Time Warp

Just over a week ago, I finished a big project for work. This presented me with lots of "leisure time" for Christmas week. We'd be home for Christmas so this was indeed a wonderful opportunity.

I'm generally a multi-tasker. I play on-line Scrabble (actually, it's called Literati) several times a day with my good friend, Judi. But I'm rarely just playing Literati; I'm usually also eating dinner, or watching TV, or cooking at the stove.

But when I want to, I can focus on just one thing. Intently. And that's just what I did.

With a full week of time for me to use just as I want to, I decided to invest some time in the completion of the transcription of my mother-in-law's father's World War I journal. It's a project I started for her some time ago, but until last Sunday, I'd only squeezed in a little bit of time here and there, and hadn't made much progress with the 270 page hand-written journal.

So, during this Christmas week, I came to know Elmer Underwood. And his buddies, Monty, Dunlevy, Grover, Jake, and many others. And I learned much about France. Elmer had many opportunities to travel while serving in the US Army in rural France. He visited museums, old chateaux, historic sites, and took hundreds of walks into nearby villages. By the river. Usually to the YMCA for ice cream and lemonade. And he made lots of friends at all kinds of shops -- patisserie, cafes, restaurants.

And he was an incessant reader. And, of course, loved to write. Letters to his sweet Marie. And daily entries in his journal. And more than anything else, he loved to get mail. Soldiers in Europe during WWI didn't have our current-day luxuries of e-mail, instant messaging, and web-cams. All they had was mail. And sometimes it took weeks for letters to arrive from the United States to our soldiers.

However, our current electronic access provided great fact-checking while I transcribed. Elmer's handwriting was often very difficult to read. Google maps is a great tool -- when in doubt of the name of a remote village, I could type several variations, one at a time, into Google maps and sure enough, a map would pop up.

I became an historical detective during this past week. Did you know that you can go to the Louvre's website and type in the name of a sculpture in its collection, and hear an entire lecture, complete with linked photographs? Fantastic! Here's one that I learned a lot about -- the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Fascinating!

The transcription is done. In fact, it's printing right now, and I'll punch holes and put it into a notebook. What a privilege to get to know Elmer so well.

Christmas Joys

Psst! I found it! Anne, look! I found it! It's right here, in the third cubbyhole from the left!

I reach into the open secretary desk and silently slide out a small, smudged index card. Yup, this is it. Each of our names is strung out on the card, one under the other, oldest to youngest. There's my name. Near the bottom.

It's Mom's Christmas list.

I found it.

But at the same time, my tummy knots. Do I really want to know what I'm getting for Christmas? Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes!

Maybe if I look really, really quickly and only scan down the list as far as my brother's name, and then squint past my name . . . I wouldn't spoil my surprise.

Oops. I saw it. Right there next to my name. C.C. Hmmm...C.C? What could it be? C.C.? Captain Crunch? Candy Canes? I can't imagine.

I hear muffled footsteps. It might be Mom! I quickly push the index card back into its slot and studiously start flipping through the magazine on the desk . . . and smile innocently as Mom enters the room.

Fast forward 49 years . . .

We gather at church -- old friends and new, young and old. Some have volunteered, and some have been recruited. We prepare for the cold by getting our fill of homemade soups, delicious BBQ, and yummy cookies. I peer into the sanctuary.

The costumes are paired, and laying across the backs of the pews. I look for mine.


We get dressed. Layer after layer. We line up according to our role.

I overhear one costumed man quietly speak as he steps into line, "I'm here every year; I wouldn't miss it. This is what really starts Christmas for me." As we process outside, I carefully step up onto the box behind Mary and Joseph.

Cars slowly glide by for the next hour and twenty minutes. Some stop. Some get out to look more closely. Some drive down a side street and sweep back around for another look.

I watch Mary intently. She warms her hands. The wind is cold.

An unexpected warmth as we pause to reflect.

A new tradition begins for us.

Oops! I Lost a Whole Week!

Some of our friends in New Hampshire are still out of power from last week's horrendous ice storm. In fact, there are even parts of the state that have cancelled school altogether until January 5th because of impassable and downright dangerous passages.

So when my friend Judi learned yesterday that the district where she teaches is one of those see-you-in-the-New-Year places, I thought, "Wow! A whole month off from school!" How will they ever recover, I wondered. Two full weeks off before Christmas.

Stop the presses. Where's that calendar? What's that you say? Christmas is NEXT week? Whoa!

Not sure how I lost a whole week, but apparently, I did. A week from right now, we'll be at our Christmas Eve service at our new church. Can't wait.

But then again. . . I think I'll savor every moment between now and then. Just breathe.

O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum

We put up our Christmas tree yesterday. And it's lovely. All white lights, the tiny kind. Almost lacy. And bedazzled with many, many homemade ornaments -- some from Mike and Beth's earliest years in school. Lots of glitter, macaroni, cotton balls, and curly red pipe cleaners.

When our kids were young, I'd lead the family on an annual excursion to find a suitable tree. We'd spend a long, long time picking out the perfect Christmas tree. Some years we visited the Rotary Club's Christmas tree stand at the Shaw's parking lot. And other years, we'd traipse through the snow at a local tree farm. Before long, Mike and Beth were well trained to carefully examine any tree under consideration --



Back then, I preferred a gumdrop tree -- dense, not at all see-thru-able, broad across the bottom, and not too pointy on top. It had to have plenty of room for many lights and ornaments. And it had to look good all the way around. The kids knew that if they could see through it, they knew to move on to another. And they knew that Mom always had the final say. Yup. Me.


With age comes maturity, right?




This year's tree is simply splendid. Al and I chose it in about 45 seconds at the Boy Scout's tree sale in Bar Harbor. The tree has a couple of thinner parts--I can even see straight through to the wall in a few spots. But I love it because it's in our Maine house. It's our tree. And I can look at its ornaments and remember Christmases when Beth and Mike were young and still at home.

I think I'm a grown-up. Maybe.

Merry Christmas!

Lesson Learned

I use AOL's Instant Messenger daily. It's an easy way to keep in touch with friends and family. And I often post a "status" message when I'm working from home, when we've gone off to church, or when we've gone up to bed.

Yet on very busy days, I may not even get to my computer until very late in the day. This was a problem yesterday. I gave my sister a horrible scare and I feel terrible about it.

This was the Acadia Chorale Society's Christmas concert weekend. We had two performances; one was Saturday night, and the other was Sunday afternoon. Sunday was such a busy day for us, we left for church early (8 AM) and didn't return until after church, errands, concert, and after-concert party (7 PM).

All the while my status message on Instant Messenger said I'd gone to bed. We were in such a hurry to leave yesterday morning, that I hadn't used my computer before leaving for church. In fact, we'd never turned on our cell phones because of church and concert etiquette.
My dear sister, Anne, couldn't reach me by computer OR cellphone. Since I'd recently blogged about how we're now using wood and propane to heat the house, she feared the worst.

We were unaware of her concern (and the concern of many others) until we pulled into our driveway last night and a Hancock County sheriff's car pulled in right behind us. He'd been trying to reach us for several hours, had contacted our neighbors, and told us to call my sister as soon as we got into the house.

As the sheriff pulled out of the driveway, he rolled down his window and called into us, "You DO have carbon monoxide detectors, don't you, now that you're heating with propane and wood?"

"Yes," we called back. Hmmm...did we? While I was reassuring my sister on the telephone, Al checked our smoke detectors.

I'll be stopping at Home Depot this morning. Those carbon monoxide detectors will be in place this afternoon.

Thanks, Anne, for taking such good care of us. I love you!

A Flurry of New Friends

It's snowing here today. And it's breathtakingly beautiful. I love snow.

When I woke up this morning, I looked out the window and detected a few random snowflakes. VERY few. Came downstairs, made my coffee, and while standing at the kitchen window, noticed that the snowflakes were coming a bit heavier. Right now, mug o' joe in hand, in my favorite recliner, I can look out seven different windows, and I'm in a snowglobe! The flakes are playfully spinning first slowly, then frantically racing, and finally, coming down in earnest, covering the ground with icy lace. It's going to be a beautiful weekend. Three to six inches of the white stuff predicted for tomorrow. Ahhh. . . I really love it.

And we're enjoying a flurry of new friends here, too. We live in an area with quite a few retired/semi-retired folks. People are certainly busy but there is a noticeably slower pace of life here and it's charming. People are willing to take the time to get to know each other. Just my cup of tea since I love to meet new people. And, interestingly, we aren't identified by our professions; we aren't caught up in the trappings of the work that we do or did. And people aren't usually frenzied to get from one appointment to another.

Yesterday, we went to our doctor's office for our flu shots (better late than never!), and ended up visiting for quite a while with the nurse who gave us the injections. While the conversation went from needle size to platelet donations (I'm a regular), he shared with us the story of his wife whose life was extended by two years because of regular platelet infusions and a bone marrow transplant she had while valiantly fighting leukemia. We weren't in a big hurry so we stayed and visited with him for about twenty minutes. It was a breath of fresh air to meet and visit with James.

Ginny, Ben, Mary, Debbie ---some of our new friends from church choir. Bernie, Kay, Marty, Dave, Joan, Jim -- some of our new friends from our neighborhood. It's great fun to get to know new people, to spend time together, and to laugh together.

Taking time to really get to know someone is a luxury that we can enjoy during this time of our lives. It takes my breath away. Just like the first snow of the season.

Time to Get Cookin'

Attention, people! We're in a recession.

Sure glad we had the financial pundits let us in on THAT headline.

So, how can we respond? We've given all of this a great deal of thought lately.

Well, we're down to using one car. And it sits in the driveway much of the time.

We've been combining errands for fewer trips into town for months now. It's habit now.

We're wearing sweaters and warm socks more, and heating the house almost exclusively with wood and propane now.

This is a great time of year to cut back on 'eating out' to just once a month (unless we're traveling, of course). There aren't too, too many restaurants open on the island during the winter anyway (there are plenty, but not nearly as many as at the height of the summer tourism time.)

And we've decided to be much more frugal with our dinner meals when we eat at home (not that we've been big spenders in groceries, but every little bit helps). We're going to try the following on each week's menu:




One night a week, an egg-based meal, e.g., omelets, scrambled eggs, souffle, strata, waffles;









One night a week, a SOUP and bread meal (we LOVE home-made soups, often make popovers from scratch, and just pulled out our old bread machine);











One night a week, a stir-fry meal (we unearthed our wok, too!);









One night a week, a main-course salad with grilled chicken or shrimp;







One night a week, a pasta or grain based meal (whole wheat pasta, quinoa, etc.);








One night a week of chicken or fish; and











One night a week of beans and rice (Please! Send your favorite recipe).


We can certainly live simply, more frugally, and still eat well. VERY well. I'm poring over the vegetarian and soup cookbooks we have -- I'm a sucker for those color pictures and want to try everything!

When do we eat?

Thanksgiving Grace

This has been a lovely, lazy Thanksgiving Day. And I have so much for which to be grateful.

Last week we traveled to Corning to be with our son, Mike, daughter-in-law, Laurelyn, and our two grandsons, Graham and Dean. The night before we left, we enjoyed an Indian dinner at a wonderful restaurant in Corning. On Sunday, we drove to Stamford and had a quick visit with Al's folks. I also had a wonderful Greek dinner out with my sister, Anne, and two of her wonderful friends, Miki and Sandy. It was a fabulous way to really stretch out our Thanksgiving celebration.

On Monday, I took the 7:43 Amtrak from Stamford to Boston for an afternoon work meeting in Cambridge. Lunch at my boss's favorite Indian restaurant. Dinner that night was at an Afghani restaurant in East Cambridge; it was amazing!

Seeing a theme here? International. Eats.

We're back in Maine now. And today is Thanksgiving. But it's quiet here. We lost power several times from the horrible storm that came through on Tuesday evening. Trees down everywhere. Thousands of customers lost power. Our power was out Tuesday night overnight into Wednesday afternoon -- out for 12 hours or so. Came back on for 4 hours, went back out for three hours. Neighbors not too far from here are still out of power.

We had decided several weeks ago that we'd enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner at the Quietside Cafe in Southwest Harbor. The owners, Frances and Ralph Reed, open up the diner to the community for a free Thanksgiving meal every year. Any leftovers go to a nearby soup kitchen. The spread was amazing --- turkey, ham, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, turnips (fabulous!), broccoli, beans, gravy, cranberry sauce. And the pies! Oh, the PIES! Frances' baking skills are world-famous --- people travel to MDI for vacation and make a point of going by the diner for her pies, cookies, and macaroons. Today, she outdid herself! Every kind of traditional Thanksgiving pie you can imagine, but I swooned over a piece of Espresso Pecan pie. Wow. I'm sure I'll still be wide awake at midnight, but it was worth every morsel.

Thank you, Frances and Ralph, for a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner! Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Travels in Storyland . . .

I love children's books. And, of course, I love our grandsons, Graham and Dean, to pieces! So the opportunity to read book after book after book with Graham and Dean is always a highlight of our visits. It's a winning combination!! Grandma and Grandpa have unlimited time to read story after story after story --- and a number of favorites are read over and over again.

Dean is still more interested in chewing on books, but Graham is now helping us to read! It's so much fun to re-read a familiar book to Graham and leave off the last word in a sentence he knows well. He LOVES to supply the missing word, and during this visit, I've started leaving out entire phrases. He'll play along for awhile, and then plead, "YOU read, Grandma!"

The Southeast Steuben County Library (formerly the Corning Public Library) is a treasure trove! It has one of the largest children's rooms I've ever seen -- Graham is so comfortable there, and loves nothing more than to choose new books and CD's! You can choose as many as you want to borrow (Really! No limit!) and this week he picked out 13 new books and 2 new CD's. The Travels of Babar, Babar and Father Christmas, and Curious George Gets a Medal are three favorites this week. We all (the adults) got a good chuckle out of the not-so-politically-correct "fierce and savage cannibals" that tie up Queen Celeste (Babar's wife) and hold her hostage. The book was indeed written back in the early 1930's.

Better than just about anything. Reading books with our grandsons. Ahhh...

The Verdict is In and . . . I'm OFF!

Yup. Looks like the glucosamine-chondroitin is the nasty culprit. But, it's amazing to me how long it takes to get rid of edema in your feet. So, I'm faithfully carrying my pillow wherever I go so that I can put my feet up. I've gotten quite used to working in a nearly-reclined position.

And, I'm breathing a huge sigh of relief that it looks like our travel plans to see Mike, Laurelyn, Graham, and Dean are still intact. Ahhhhh. . . I can't wait to spend this coming weekend with my NH friends at our twice-a-year rughooking retreat. I'll be continuing to work on a special rug for grandson Dean. It's a scene of barnyard animals and here's what's done so far. Lots yet to do but it's just SO much fun to work on! And then we'll head right out to Mike's after that. :)

Hope all is well with you and yours! Appreciate your health EVERY day!

Balloon Feet and Empty Boxes

I'm truly NOT trying to break any world records for going to the E.R. and Dr's office, but these feet are pretty concerning. We *think* we may have had a breakthrough, but we're not absolutely sure. Yet.

So, about a month ago, Al and I decided to add a new "vitamin" to our daily regime (along with the multi-vitamin and the calcium supplement) -- it was Glucosamine-Condroitin -- good for what ails you (and aging joints). Or so we thought. About a week into it, I noticed my right ankle starting to swell. Now, mind you, this was about the same time I spent mega-hours driving -- from Bass Harbor to Stamford, from Stamford to Merrimack, from Merrimack to Bass Harbor. A lot o' driving.

On my return leg (pun intended) to Bass Harbor, I decided to stop at the ER in Ellsworth. "Take off both of your shoes and socks so we can compare 'em," says the nurse. I dutifully obey, knowing that they're not going to see a thing on my left . . . Ooof! Yikes! The left ankle is working hard to catch up to the right ankle. Damn.

Nah, the doc says. It's probably just from lifting heavy things (while packing up the last few big items from Merrimack). You strained the ligaments. Try to keep your feet up, she says. I mention the Glucosamine. And that I had just discontinued it. Nah, I'm sure that's not it, she says.

SO...a few days go by, I'm obeying my orders, but they're getting worse. I call the doc's office and get an appt with the PA (or maybe it was a NP? I don't remember). They draw blood to rule out rheumatoid arthritis. Yes, I agree. Let's rule out the nasty stuff. Two days later, I get a call back. RA panel is negative (whew!) but we'd like to do a D-Dimer test; it requires going back to the hospital and waiting for the results. If the results are positive, more tests. By now, it's Halloween. Al drives me to the hospital.

Five hours later (after "Superman" takes my blood twice), they've concluded that even though the d-dimer is positive, I do NOT have any blood clots in my legs. They came to that conclusion after doing ultrasounds of the venous systems in both legs. Actually pretty cool -- thank goodness the tech wasn't dressed as Dracula! They decide to put me on a diuretic (a high blood-pressure medicine) and more leg elevation. O.K., I can do that.

Another week of good behavior. There isn't really any change and certainly, I'm not impressed by the diuretic. I don't notice any difference at all in my # of trips to the bathroom. On Thursday morning, I decide to take a Glucosamine-Condroitin tablet. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning were about the worst yet. The swelling is now nearly equal, and it goes down to my toes. It KILLS to wiggle my toes; walking is nearly impossible. I call the doctor's office again. Yes, I'm due to see the doctor (previously-scheduled 'new patient appt') on Monday morning, but I really want someone to SEE these balloons at the end of my legs. Come on in at 4, they say.

Al (such a trooper!) takes me in, and I hobble to the exam room. The nurse (same one who checked me in the previous week) takes a look at my feet - YIKES, she says, they do look worse. I breathe a mental sigh of relief; I'm not crazy. A wonderful PA comes in (Wendy) and spends about 40 minutes with us. The long and short of it? She's seen THIS reaction to glucosamine-condroitin a few other times in her career. She's somewhat sure that's what it is, especially since it got so much worse after taking ONE tablet the previous morning. She strongly suggests TONS and TONS of water (as she said, it seems counterintuitive but it's really what helps to draw away the excess fluid) AND. . . compression hose. It's official. I'm O.L.D.

To say that putting these socks on is painful would be a terrific understatement. However, while they're on, I have the sleekest feet and ankles in town! I have to take them off for one hour mid-day (what quickly appears are bagel-like swellings on each ankle) and overnight. I have to put them back on before my feet hit the floor in the morning. And I was actually able to be up on my feet for about an hour altogether yesterday (which is quite amazing!). I actually made (a quick) dinner AND finished unpacking one last box in the kitchen!

I'm eager to see the doctor tomorrow for another once-over. I sure hope we're not going to have to change any of our plans for the coming two weeks. And it would be really nice to have a firm understanding of what caused all this edema.

And it's SO nice to have empty boxes. We're almost done . . .

Congratulations, President-Elect Obama!

Yahoo! What great news!

And how wonderful to know that we will once again have an intelligent, articulate President of whom we can be proud!

Fantastic. Just fantastic!

And what promise he holds for our children's and grandchildren's futures.

Thanks for voting!

(photo by Truda Bloom)

I'm SOOOOoooo Ready . . .

for this campaign season to be done. D.O.N.E. Others have said it, and I couldn't agree more. Just IMAGINE how much GOOD could have been done with all of the money that was paid for the hundreds and hundreds of hours of campaign ads, "debates" (nothing like the debates I remember from HS), and thousands and thousands of campaign signs (yeah, like they'll be gone tomorrow. Riiight.). Yes, I know. It's all a part of the democratic process. But seriously. Imagine what good could have happened in places like New Orleans.

And what ever happened to fact-checking? One of the biggest challenges this "campaign season" has been tracking down the truth. Where does one go? Who has the facts? Does anyone? Whose "facts" do we subscribe to?

And it certainly wouldn't be the good ol' USA if there weren't a way to sexualize even the ELECTION! Jeesh. What's with that "Obama girl"? Good grief.



My favorite "Get out the vote" video is this one. Be sure to watch to the very end.

The best thing about this election is the way it has mobilized voters. The expected record turnout is just fantastic. And the fact that some places have had as much as 20% of their eligible voters vote EARLY is incredible!



I'm looking forward to voting today. It's the first time Al and I are voting in Maine. And we'll be proud to cast our ballots. We're certainly voting on behalf of our two favorite little ones. We hope that our votes might help to make the world a better place for Graham and Dean.

Who are you voting on behalf of?

Take a Breath

The last couple of weeks have been such a whirlwind.

My sister is home from the hospital and is recovering well. We sold our NH home; the closing went without a hitch. The moving van came and left behind mountains of boxes and more furniture.

I need to sit still. And breathe. Doesn't that sound delicious?

We're settling into a routine here in our new home and community. Al and I enjoy singing in choir at church (Bar Harbor Congregational Church) which is great fun. And I'm also singing with the Acadia Choral Society. So that's two nights a week that I'm out.

I haven't found time to really investigate a local rughooking group. But I'm able to get into the local yarn shop (Lilac Lily) once a week or so; it's where I stop when I'm struggling with some persnickity part of a knitting pattern. It's quite a lovely refuge.

While working full-time (at least for now), I need to balance my extra-curricular and work activities. And then I need to balance those BOTH with just being. An old friend used to remind me from time to time, that we are human BEINGS and not human DOINGS. Good point. Easy to forget. Why is it that we find ourselves so busy that we almost need to schedule the down time. The empty time. With my short commute (walking from the kitchen to the sunroom, aka my office, doesn't take but a moment), I can maximize that quiet time before and after work.

One of the best parts of living somewhere new is meeting new people and making new friends. Maybe it's because there are so many of us here who are semi-retired or retired altogether, but it does seem that folks here are willing and eager to take the time to get to know each other. Visiting with new friends over dinner is such a great way to spend an evening.

Reading back over this entry --- it's got quite a jagged feel. Maybe even on the edge of frenzied.

For now, I'm going to sit here. And just breathe. Yummy . . .

There's a Madness to my Method . . .

Today I unpacked. And unpacked. And unpacked. It felt GREAT!

I know I have to take good care of my back. So I work in the same position for only a few minutes at a time, and then move on to the next room to do something different. Today I hung clothes, paired shoes and put them in the closet, shelves dozens and dozens of books (really! How much can TWO people read??), stacked CD's in the entertainment center, flattened hundreds of sheets of newsprint and 15 or 20 boxes (we're recycling --- Mike and Laurelyn just sold their house), and rearranged some furniture. I'm sure if anyone retraced my steps throughout the day, I'd have looked like a whirling dervish, but my method really worked well. I accomplished quite a bit and not a back twinge in sight.

And the living room and master bedroom are taking shape -- the living room feels light and airy again, and there's actually a FLOOR in the bedroom. Ahhh. . .

It feels SO much more like home now . . . Yippppppeeeee! Pictures soon--I promise.

Building Strong Bodies Ten Ways . . .

So. I wonder . . .

Why does it take soooo much, much longer to unpack boxes than it did to load and unload the moving van?

So...we're on! How quickly will we be able to see all the walls in each room? Hmmm . . .

There's another yard sale in our future or more free-cycling. I'm sure of it!

Enjoy this GORGEOUS weekend. Between unpacking boxes we'll be kayaking in Northeast Creek. We're hoping to pick some ripe, wild cranberries. We're still at peak colors here in a few spots.

Off to open another box . . .yikes.

A Deep Sigh . . .

How do you spell relief?

I woke up this morning in my own bed. With my darling Al. I knew where I was immediately.

I am home. And it feels great!

Even with it raining here today (which can sometimes make me feel a little blue), I can look outside with a big smile. We're here for good. It's just us...and oh, yeah, the stuff that will be delivered tomorrow, much in big cartons (thank goodness they're labeled!) and a few things wrapped in heavy blankets.

And I only found two more tiny splinters of glass in the kitchen today. Still no bare feet here!

Our Life in a Box

Well, it's happening. The packers were here yesterday. The movers are here as I write. It's weird seeing your things carried away, one at a time, by tattooed men. It's like a circus here.

We culled. We gave away. We threw away. We donated. We threw more away. We moved more on freecycle.org -- and on, and on, and on. We're on a first-name basis with the guy who manages the transfer station/recycling center. And nine more cartons of brand-new books to my favorite school in Nashua.

Is this worth 60 cents a pound to be packed, transported, unpacked? Probably not. Toss it.

It's just stuff, right?

The house is echoey now -- O.K., I've never written that word before - not sure how to spell it.

The last time this room was so empty was when we moved in here 28 years ago. It was early September. I still remember how loud that single cricket was when we slept in sleeping bags on the living room floor awaiting the arrival of the moving van.

Sure hope it doesn't take as long to unpack as it took them to pack it all. Yikes.

Textures

Last week, before Al left to close up our home in NH, we decided to take a short walk through the woods. We followed the trail along Long Pond, one of our favorite places to kayak. It was very, very quiet -- in fact we only saw two other people (in a canoe) during the whole hour+ we were on the trail.

The contrasting textures pulled me along the trail as we explored . . .



smooth water and rocks,





velvety moss,



delicate, colorful leaves with pinked edges,







gurgling, miniature waterfalls,




spiny, crackly twigs,










feathery cedar,

rough, leathery fungi,








a frantic thoroughfare of tiny fish (look carefully),






a busy spider on its lacy web,



striated rocks disguised as clam shells, and





a rooted pathway that took me back to childhood
and the way to Nanny and Pop-pop's.





And all the while, colors of fall called to us from across the pond.

C.R.A.S.H. --- oh, no!

O.K. So I'm a goofball. At least I didn't get hurt.

So, this afternoon I was getting ready to conduct another telephone interview (for my job -- I'm doing some really fascinating national research) and I decided to make myself a cup of tea. So I turned on the burner to heat the teapot and went into my office.

At my computer. Getting my transcript template ready. Name the file. Get my print-out of the interview protocol set on the table. Check for the phone number I need to call.

BOOM!

Teapot. Stove. Wrong. Burner. No whistle. Pyrex. Casserole. Exploded.

I jump out of my chair and run to the kitchen. Holy. Hot. Glass. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E.

Just that moment, literally about 2 seconds after the explosion, the phone rang. It was my boss. I didn't get to even think about cleaning up until after my 4 PM phone interview. And all the while, I could hear the crinkling of cooling hot glass. Yikes.

After the interview, I tiptoed into the kitchen and started scoping out my clean-up task. Whew. When I say it was EVERYWHERE, I really mean it!

On the stove, on the burners, in the burners.
Under the stove.
Between the stove and the counter.
INSIDE the stove (that was the weirdest! Can you figure out how it got there?).
On the dining room floor.
Under the edges of every kitchen cabinet.
Behind the pie safe.

I grabbed the broom and started sweeping. Or should I say, I tried to sweep up the broken glass. It wouldn't move -- the glass had melted into the floor and onto the counter.

And so I kicked the bigger pieces with the toe of my shoe. After repeated attempts, I was able to loosen some of it. Eventually, I had a pretty big pile of glass. Actually, two piles.

And I vacuumed up the shards of glass that I could see.

Later, as I started pulling myself together to make dinner, I found glass in some new, unexpected places.

In the downstairs bathroom! (the prize for the farthest!)

Inside the stacked mixing bowls on the rolling cart (the funniest)

Jeesh. I really liked that casserole dish, too.

I'm going to be finding teeny tiny bits of glass for days. . . no bare feet here.

And I'm thinking we're going to need to think about a new kitchen floor. Sooner than later.
Hmmm. . .

Note to self: NO more "air drying" of anything on the stovetop. Check, double-check, triple-check that you're turning on the RIGHT burner. Jeesh.

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

My two favorite bloggers have reminded me this week of the importance of simple joys and big dreams.

Simple joys for me include frequent e-mail exchanges with those I love and care about deeply, a long-long-distance phone call (hurrah for unlimited long distance!) from our daughter and her husband in British Columbia, a text message on my telephone
sometimes even with a picture of our grandsons, caller I.D. (yippee, it's Lee!), the sweet anticipation of a trip to Corning, snuggling with Dean, sharing books and field trips galore with Graham, visits from family and friends, and when distance separates, a web-cam visit with any/all of the above loved ones.

And then there are the very, very simple joys and they're often some of the sweetest -- getting up early when the house is quiet, a full pot of steaming coffee, a good book, classical music playing sweet and low, finding a piece of smooth glass at Seawall, spotting a heron in the still water, rughooking around a table with my best friends, beautiful yarn, the promise of beautiful patterns waiting to be knit up, hand-dyed wool waiting to be hooked into a rug, kayaking on quiet water, the view from a mountaintop in Acadia, singing in a choir that makes a glorious sound altogether, making a new friend, camping near a babbling brook in the woods, fog rolling in across the harbor, a new roll of stamps, and mail in our P.O. box.

Yup, simple.


The big dreams --- that's a taller order for me. Should I be dreaming at age 55? Sure. I dream of travel --New Zealand, the Canadian Rockies (of course, we'll be heading to Vancouver, BC!), the Canadian maritimes, Newfoundland and Labrador, and many places in Europe. I dream of learning to spin wool again. And maybe playing the hammered dulcimer or my harp again.


I dream of growing old with the man I love, Al.








I dream of reconciliation -- oh, wait!
That's a dream come true already!


And it occurs to me that we all have very different dreams. My dreams aren't the same as yours, and you certainly have dreams that I don't ponder either.

But that's O.K. Want a cup of hot coffee?

Ike, Ike, Bo, Bike...

I've never lived anywhere where I felt compelled to exercise out-of-doors. Until now.

On Monday afternoon, after putting in a nearly-full-day of work (I started my workday really early), Al and I hung our bikes on the back of the car and off we went into the park. We hadn't ridden our bikes in at least a couple of weeks; we were long overdue. And, thanks to Hurricane Ike, it felt like (it should have in) early August --- quite warm, clear, and abundant sunshine. And breezes. Lots and lots of breezes. Apparently other northerly parts of our state were experiencing Ike's rain and other inclement yuck, but we were very lucky! You see, we haven't had all THAT much sun and blue sky this summer --- so Monday was just a plum. A lucky break. A bonus day to celebrate my recent weight loss efforts (still losing, still losing) on my trusty bike on the beautiful, recently-repaired carriage roads of Acadia National Park.

Hurricane Hanna hadn't been nearly as kind to us. She dumped 7-1/2 inches of rain in ONE night! We had road washouts all over the island, and Acadia NP took it in the chin with about $300,000 of damage, mostly on the carriage roads. The crews have been out for more than a week, rebuilding closed roads, and doing the final dressing to make Rockefeller's roads beautiful and inviting for the fall tours.

We parked our car at the Eagle Lake parking lot, a favorite starting place for cyclists. You see, you can start from this one spot and ride in either direction onto miles and miles of the park. We opted to take a northerly route; we hadn't ridden by Witches' Hole or Paradise Point yet this year.

Our first stop was here. Just magnificent. And the lily pads were like little silver-golden mirrors. I fully expected to see a little frog peering into one of the miniature magical mirrors, perhaps checking that all of its wart were in place.


As we continued on up the hilly carriage road, I looked up catch a glimpse of not one, but TWO pileated woodpeckers flying from one side of the road to the other. Have you ever seen one? They're HUGE and they look like this -- yup, just like Woody Woodpecker. I remember seeing one years ago with my sister, Lee, when she visited us in NH. These birds are huge...about 18 inches...and LOUD when they drill holes in trees with their long beak. You can often hear them deep in the woods but they can be hard to spot. Another bonus.

We rode on a bit farther and saw this. Now, tell me. Wouldn't you pedal up a hill for a few minutes, challenging yourself NOT to stop until you reach the summit, to see this? I never get tired of seeing the bright blue sky against the bright blue ocean framed by tall pines. Ah. Can't help but take a big, deep breath.





So, just as we're hopping back on our bikes, Al spots this little guy. Cute, huh? He was having some kind of encounter with an acorn -- we couldn't tell if he was trying to push it out of the way or just work his way around it. It's amazing how brave I can be when there's a big ol' bike between me and one of these slithering passers-by. Actually, I set my bike up on its kickstand and tiptoed closer to get this picture. So brave.



Just then. . . I quietly spotted this.

Whoa! Psss, Al! HEY, AL!

Look! It's a . . . a . . . RED LEAF!!

Yup. It's comin' --- Fall. In case you didn't know, Al loves the summer -- it's his favorite season by far. The hotter and more oppressive the better in Al's world. Now me? I'm a FALL girl! I'm ALL about the cool mornings, the crisp, clean air, and have never been able to decide which color leaves are my favorite -- I love them ALL!



We pedaled on, coasted, and before long, we had the chance to compare two incredible architectural feats -- First this one . . . yup, made by those little guys with the big flat tails and long front teeth.




But then, just another mile or so down the road, we saw one of these. Wow. Mr. Rockefeller sure had some vision.

I can't help but gaze upon these beautiful granite bridges and dreamily wonder about those
who wandered on these carriage roads decades ago. Maybe a young woman with a wide-brimmed straw hat and a parasol?

Or maybe a handsome young man pedaling on his bike.

Maybe like this fellow.

Gee, he looks familiar . . .

Hey! Snap out of it!

It's time to push on into Bar Harbor to visit our favorite spot --- that blueberry basil sorbet is calling my name! RACE YA!