Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Those bulbs, those small brown packages of hope. They look dead. All boxed up in dusty packages on clearance racks of large monocultured chain stores, underneath florescent lights, with bits of themselves flaking off like a bag of onions in the grocery store. The bulbs are on clearance racks this time of year because the chain stores are eliminating the outdoor gardening sections to make way for Christmas. The population's attention has shifted, again. But, it's not really past the season to plant bulbs quite yet.
And, there they sat, the silent promises of beauty and scent, of rebirth and rejuvenation, nearly religious chalices, all but ready to be tossed aside. I reclaimed a few packages, knelt in the wind, dug through dead debris and cold earth for hours. I measured the correct depth for each type of bulb, and laid each in its rightful place. And smiled. What better ritual for accepting oncoming Winter and the loss of daylight savings time?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Photos on next post....
Thursday, October 28, 2010
This is why you should always have your camera with you!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Combine that with almost liquid pleasure of a good book, its cornucopia of language tumbling into my brain and filling me like rich dessert.
Combine that with the luxuriousness of Sunday, all that time to indulge yourself in doing whatever you want. I get to peruse the garden and gather the vegetables I want. This Sunday I've made carrot cake from the carrots I pulled, potato and beet soup with sage and mint. Orange, cream, purple and green. All creations from things I've pulled out of the ground.
Nourishment for my body, delight for my eyes, richness for my soul.
Monday, October 18, 2010
I know I am repeating myself. How many times can I say "where did the time go?" This time, though, I nearly felt as though I must have been in a coma or something. I literally stopped a moment to go over the events of the last few months in my mind to make sure I really did not step through a time portal. And, no, I did not. We went to our local annual fair - which I blogged about last year - and the annual boat show - we stayed at a fancy hotel in Newport. I remembered being sad I missed my granddaughter's first birthday since she is in Florida, but she's moving back to New England next month so I'll get to see her all the time! Weekends were full of harvesting and processing food from the garden and soaking up the beautiful weather and scanning trays and trays full of slides which cataloged my entire childhood. Yes I remember, it was a good September.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Then you catch sight of the clock on your way back down to the pillow.
And you know in your bones that it is August. Still warm, even blastingly hot of high summer sometimes, but the sun is rising much later, and with that day shift you almost feel the Earth's weighty glide towards autumn. Propelling you through seasons and time.
The morning's walk in the woods is silent of bird songs. They are replaced by the rattle and plunk of falling acorns. Crickets and cicadas buzz. The light is flat and it, and lawns, are shifting to gold. Nature's energy feels mature, ripe, unhurried.
In contrast, winter is still, unchanging sleep. Once the all green turns brown and black, and the snow falls, and the migrating birds have left and the hibernating animals burrow and sleep, the scene does not change. Though birds flock to the feeder, they are the same every day, all winter. No young ones getting bigger all the time. No gradual shift of species from one month to the other, as flowers would: red ones flocking in December; blues ones arriving in January.
Maybe the change is more subtle. The deer get thinner. The snow changes consistancy. I guess there is always the lengthening of days - but we can miss that all together when we rise in the dark, and return home in the dark for several months no matter the change.
How does one feel the passing of time in tropical places where Nature does not sleep? Are there different rhythms of the cycles of life that simply go round and round, skipping that long pause of winter's quiet? Does the light tell you what time of the year it is?
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
I thought that turning 50 meant the gift of a wakeup call. Here was a shockingly clear marker defining the last half of my life. There were 50 years of life spent, spent, spent. "Wake up," 50 said. "It's slipping away." "Pay attention." Although happy and feeling saturated in the moment, I also sometimes felt as if my hands were outstretched, fingers grasping at the ephemeral substance of time, trying to hold it still. It was the primary reason I started this blog. I needed to pay attention by recording my days and experiences through words and photographs. I marked time by trying to remember details and focus on the moments of my day.
It came to me the other day, that the very act of that grasping makes time even more evanescent. The energy it takes to notice the fact if its passing chases it farther instead of keeping the moment close. The bittersweet irony of time. Like a dream. Instead, immersing oneself in the moment by living it, and forgetting about how quickly the moment is passing, makes the moment the most realized. Just gulp the moment and swallow and love it and move on to the next.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Several of you have asked me what I thought about John Irving's latest, Last Night in Twisted River. Unfortunately, from the very first pages I was disappointed to realize that his writing simply isn't very good. John Irving's talent instead lies in his imaginative plots, where characters do unexpected things and are very colorful. Mr. Irving describes the North Country, as people from New Hampshire call the Northern parts of the state that border on Canada, very robustly, if not stereotypicallly. The rougue North Country spirit is embodied by one of the characters, and he is facinating. The other two main characters are not as interesting. The son turns out to be a writer, educated at Exeter in New Hampshire, just like all of Mr. Irving's other books.
Because I was not inspired by the writing, though, I neglected it. I let it sit for long periods unread and unloved. So much time passed between resting and reading (it's a long book), that by the end I finally became fond of the main characters and wished I had paid more attention to them. Still, I have to say, bad writing, bad plot, but loveable characters who grow on you.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
I've known for some time that what seafood I chose to buy could have an affect on our oceans. Yet, I was often confused about what I was supposed to buy, or not buy. Farm raised? Wild caught? I thought I heard somewhere that it is better to buy smaller fish; they're lower on the food chain, I guess. I thought I heard somewhere that talapia was a good choice. Then I heard that it was not. How was I going to find real answers in the midst of so much misinformation?
Then I discovered a resource to answer my questions - an app I could get for my iPhone! I guess I should have known. Yes, there is an app for that!
I only got my iPhone because my husband was crazy to get one, and if he got a cool new phone, I was going to get one, too. As anyone who has one knows, there are hundres of thousands of useful, no-so useful, and downright stupid "apps" to buy and add to your iPhone. Well, here is one that Everyone should dowload and Use! And, it's FREE!
This tool, from the Monteray Bay Aquarium, is a must have for all your seafood purchases, whether at your grocery store or restaurant. We consumers have the power to save our oceans. It seems hard to imagine that our vast oceans, which have been a boundless source of food for all of human history, could be on the verge of destruction, but they are. Our growing human population and technological advances in the fishing industry are taking their toll. We must pay attention to what we consume to ensure the continuing bounty of the seas.
I am now using this guide whenever I choose seafood. Before I used this guide, I found it difficult to remember which seafood was appropriate to purchase, and which purchases were contributing to ocean destruction. For example, some farmed seafood are good choices, and some are not. So, simply following a farmed or no farmed, plan does not work. Similarly, the same kind of fish or seafood can be sustainable or damaging, depending on the type or location of its harvest. But, the mere fact that your choices are complicated is now no excuse for not using your purchasing power to restore our oceans. You do not even need to have an iPhone to get the guide. The aquarium's website had a downloadable pocket guide containing the same information.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
The music of life. That is the theme if the book I just closed.
There it is, on my "tray." This is a signed copy, a gift from the author whom I know. I love his phrase - music of life. Think about that. I've considered life many ways, but not as music. But it is. Yes. A simple tune, or a symphony, melodic, jazzy, plaintive and timid, or bold and full.
There is music to our actions in the way we treat others and carry out our beliefs. What about the music of holding a baby, play, and of course making love. There is music in the work we do, especially if it is meaningful. There is even music in sorrow.
What music are you creating?
Saturday, April 3, 2010
I have four unfinished posts saved, lingering unposted. Where did the month of March go? We've gone from piles of snow to 80 degree weather, stoking the woodstove to casting open all the windows to relish the warm breeze. Our appetites have gone from hearty stews and other comfort sustenance to salads and outdoor grilling. Winter to summer.
A bear has visited the bin in which I keep the birdseed. Twice. I find it turned over and broken apart in the early morning when the dogs and I burst out of the house to greet the day. A telltale bag of seed, ripped apart and dirty, is found yards away from the bin, into the woods.
I wish I had stopped to photogaph the sunrise through the mist which graced my early drive to the airport this morning. It delighted me, made me pause in my "gotta hurry," preflight frame of mind. Still, I chose the airport rush and ended up, as usual, with plenty of time to spare. The beauty I beheld this morning only captured in my braincells.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
I'm taking stock of all the garbage, especialy plastic, that I use. I think it is amazing how much trash one person can generate! While, yes, one solution is to recycle, and we do. But, think about how many products we buy in plastic packaging! Cleaning products, personal hygiene products, hardware, automotive, all those little things that are wrapped in so many layers of plastic you need heavy duty scissors to open them. Why can't we minimize our waste right from the very start? It is hard, if not impossible, to find these products contained in anything other than plastic. There should be other alternatives to plastic packaging? Isn't there a way to make biodegradeable plastics? Yes to both of these, I am sure. So, why isn't this happening?