Food, Movies, Celebrate

What a Difference 300 Miles Makes

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On Saturday, we were supposed to get together with Shannon and Mike to celebrate birthdays—mine and Clif’s—at Stonewall Kitchen in York, Maine. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans. A nor’easter—in September!—roared up the Eastern Seaboard. It slammed the coast, as nor’easters always do, and Shannon and Mike, who live in the Boston area 300 miles to the south, quite sensibly canceled. A good thing, too. Winds reached 60 miles per hour; poles and wires were knocked down, along with an occasional tree. And, unsurprisingly, there was flooding.

But in central Maine, where we live, we barely got a sprinkle. (In fact, we would have liked more rain.) We decided that even though we couldn’t celebrate with Mike and Shannon, which was disappointing, we could do a little something on our own on Saturday.

So off we went to Wei-Li Restaurant in Auburn, about a half hour from where we live, and well out of the Nor’easter’s path. Wei-Li is one of the best—if not the best— Chinese restaurants in the area, and it is our number one choice for special occasions. Somehow, the food tasted better than usual, and while we were sorry not to get together with Mike and Shannon, we certainly enjoyed our meal.

Sunday was Clif’s actual birthday, his 75th, and naturally, we had to do a little something on that day, too. To start with, I cooked Clif a Sunday-morning brunch,

In the afternoon, we went to the cinema to see a re-release of the 2019 Avengers: Endgame. (It is the sequel to Avengers: Infinity War.)

Endgame, featuring the superhero team the Avengers, is surprisingly deep for a Marvel Comics movie and as relevant as ever. In brief: The powerful Thanos (Josh Brolin), an Eternal, decides the universe is out of balance, and to fix this, with the help of the Infinity Stones, he wipes out half the population of every habitable planet, including, of course, Earth, the focus of the movie.

In Infinity War, Thanos achieved his goal, and in Endgame, there is worldwide mourning on Earth as family members grieve the disappearance of loved ones who instantly vanished. Endgame explores the grief in a moving, unrushed way, and the movie is long on feelings and short on battle scenes, which is just fine with me.

As I watched Endgame, it occurred to me that this movie is a rebuke to people who long for an apocalypse, a good cleansing of humanity. In real life, there are more of these people than you might think, both on the far right and the far left. Some of them are very rich indeed and in positions of great power. I suppose when such people yearn for this great cleansing of humanity, they imagine their families and loved ones will be spared. It won’t be their mothers, daughters, sons, and fathers who will be crushed and hurt. Oh, no. They will be safe in underground bunkers or on faraway islands or in space. Because they are the deserving chosen ones, they will be spared.

Endgame makes it perfectly clear what havoc this kind of thinking—hubris really— wreaks. It is up to the Avengers, among them Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk, to try to reverse Thanos’s damage.

Alas, in real life, we are short of Avengers, and the people opposing the proponents of various apocalypses seem outmatched and outspent. We can only hope that those who love this planet and want a more humane outcome will prevail.

After such a deep, dark movie, you might think our spirits would have been too low for more celebration. But you would be wrong.

Not ready to call it a day, we went to Margaritas in Augusta for drinks and snacks and had a good time discussing the movie.

Here is the birthday boy. I know I might be biased, but I think Clif still looks pretty darn cute at 75.

Happy birthday, Clif!

Addendum: We plan to get together with Shannon and Mike on Saturday, October 3. Fingers crossed there are no bad storms to skunk our plans.

 

Books, Fall, Flowers

Tapping on Autumn’s Shoulder

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In the Northern Hemisphere, we are one day away from the Autumnal Equinox—September 22. While I love this crisp time of year, I am always a little sorry to see a season end. (And, yes, I feel the same way about winter, too.) This summer, while too dry, was lovely nonetheless, with days that weren’t too hot or humid. At least most of the time. It actually felt like an old-fashioned Maine summer, the ones I remember from my childhood. So farewell, Summer! While I hope 2027 has more rain, I hope we have the same lovely temperatures.

Yesterday, I took some pictures of our yard and road to chronicle the changing season.

The coleuses are still thriving and will continue to do so until a hard frost nips them.

But I have stopped deadheading the flowers, and now that summer is coming to an end, they are free to be their rangy, spiky selves.

The begonias are doing well, too, and provide a welcome burst of color by the front door.

As for the gardens…well, we are heading toward late September, and as always, the plants are pretty much done blooming for the year. The picture below gives readers a pretty good idea of what the gardens look like. (Oh, the phlox was so beautiful this summer!) Readers can also see the progress on the house. The new siding is up, and the window frame is patched. Next comes the painting.

While the gardens are in decline, the trees, with just a tinge of color,  are beginning to gear up for their autumn glory. I went to the end of our driveway and took this picture of our road. Still a lot of green, but there is a slight blush of color.

And in our driveway, a little color, too, a preview of what will come when the leaves coat the driveway in a thick carpet. Then we turn to our trusty leaf blower—electric, of course—to help clear the driveway.

But that’s a couple of weeks away.

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Reading

I had planned to keep a monthly book log, but as I thought about my birthday challenge—70 books by 70—it seemed better to list them by the week. That way, I can go into them with a little depth without having readers’ eyes glaze over from too much information.

Book 1 of my 70 by 70 challenge

John of John by Douglas Stuart

Warning: Minor Spoilers

John-Calum (Cal) has graduated from art school, but unable to find a job, he couch-surfs at his friends’ homes and steals food from them when they are away. Therefore, when Cal’s difficult father, John, summons Cal home to Harris, an island in the Outer Hebrides, Cal only hesitates briefly. When John tells Cal that his grandmother is sick, this clinches the deal.

So home Cal goes, to his angry, sometimes abusive father, his beloved grandmother, Ella, and the tight religious community—Free Presbytarian—he left behind for the sinful big city.

Cal’s father is a lay preacher, sheep farmer, and weaver with a true feel for color and texture. He is also gay, a fact he hides from almost everyone, including his son. Cal is gay, too, and he also hides this from his father and most of the island community. This tension—a closeted father and son—drives the story, dialing up the emotional temperature of the book.

I became totally immersed in the world Stuart created—the austere beauty of the island as well as the family turmoil—and I read avidly late into the night to find out how the conflicts would play out.

But I do have two major criticisms.

First, religion is initially up front in John of John and of great importance. But as the story progresses, religion is pushed to the back burner to make way for Cal’s and John’s issues. The minister is never more than a one-dimensional figure, and while the church is featured from time to time and even causes a violent confrontation between Cal and John, it just doesn’t get the time it should in this story. After the chains-in-the-playground incident—put there to stop kids from playing on Sunday—I wanted much more about the Free Presbyterians, a group I had never heard of until I read this book.

Second, John is a violent, angry father who still beats his twenty-two-year-old son. Yet it felt as though the reader was supposed to root for John’s search for self-actualization in the book’s concluding chapters. While I had some sympathy for John and his conflicts, I found I couldn’t cheer him on as he tries to come to terms with his sexuality. Stuart made him too hard and too abusive. In short, John is a real canker.

But I was with Cal—sometimes selfish, sometimes good-hearted— all the way, even when he made bad choices. And it was this sympathy that kept me reading.

Books, Celebrate, Movies

Sixty-nine on the Fifteenth

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Tuesday, September 15, was my 69th birthday. Regular readers will know that our motto for birthdays and other special days is to celebrate early, celebrate often with simple pleasures. And that is exactly what we did for my birthday.

On Saturday, we went to Buen Apetito, one of our favorite restaurants in Waterville. We always start with margaritas, chips, and salsa before we move on to our meals. With its tasty food and lovely service, Buen Apetito is a pleasure for any occasion, special or not.

Yesterday, my actual birthday, was filled with many simple pleasures. Dee, Clif, and I took the day off, and Clif cooked us a delicious brunch.

After brunch, I went outside to take some pictures of the September garden.

In the afternoon, we—surprise, surprise!—went to a movie, The Uprising, starring, among others, Andrew Garfield. The Uprising is about the 1381 Peasants’ Revolt in England. Taxed beyond endurance and demoralized by the Bubonic Plague, Garfield, who plays Ploughman, helps lead the peasants to London to petition a very young and weaselly Richard II to relieve their burden. I will say no more about the plot except to note that Richard II gets what’s coming to him about twenty years later, when his cousin Henry Bolingbroke becomes Henry IV. (This is not featured in the movie, but as a Shakespeare fan, I am very familiar with “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”) Until a completely unbelievable, made-up ending, The Uprising is a good movie, stirring and brutal and more than a little applicable to modern times.

After the movie, we picked up pastries from Barnes & Noble and headed to our favorite place of all, our own backyard, where we had drinks, snacks, and dessert.

I had a very good day indeed and will celebrate yet again when we meet Shannon and Mike at the end of the month for more birthday brouhaha.

Celebrate early, celebrate often!

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Reading

A Challenge: 70 by 70

I decided to challenge myself by setting a goal of reading 70 books by my 70th birthday. As I read between 50 and 60 books a year, this will be a bit of a push for me. However, I feel as though I am up to the challenge.

I am currently reading John of John by Douglas Stuart, and this will be the first book of my challenge. (John of John, along with The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout, is long-listed for the 2026 Booker Prize. I’m not sure whether I will read the whole list, but I plan to add one or two more from it.)

 

 

 

 

Books, Fall

That Splendid Season plus August’s Book Log

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The calendar has flipped to September, the month that brings fall, Maine’s splendid season. In our yard, the goldenrod is abloom by the edge of the woods.

The air has a delicious, nutty smell as plants mature and form seeds. At night, the temperature drops to 50, and I put another blanket on my bed. One evening, it was so chilly that we even had to turn on the heat pump. But during the day, the temperature rises to the mid-70s and sometimes reaches 80, only to cool down at night. I wish we could have a couple more months of this weather, but maybe fall’s fleeting nature is the reason why I love this season so much. I feel very lucky to have a birthday in this beautiful month—as does Clif—and  you can bet there will be simple but fun celebrations that I’ll feature on this blog. As longtime readers know, our philosophy is to celebrate early, celebrate often.

My gardens are winding down and are definitely past their best, as this photo of the front yard illustrates.

Unfortunately, COVID slowed down Clif’s work on the house, but he’s pushing on, and he should get most of what he needs done before the cold weather comes.

But the plants on the front porch still look glorious and will do so until the first hard frost nips their beauty.

I am glad to be at the beginning of September rather than at the end. I still have most of this month to look forward to, as well as October, surely the most magnificent month in Maine. October is also the birth month of my eldest daughter.

Let the celebrations begin!

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One of my blogging friends, Rupali, features a book log every month. I really enjoy her log, so I decided to follow suit and share what I read each month.

Book Log for August

Zone One by Colson Whitehead

I’m a huge fan of Colson Whitehead, especially The Underground Railroad and The Nickel Boys, both of which have deservedly won a Pulitzer Prize. But if I had read Zone One first, I’m not sure I would have read another one of his books. A good lesson in how even very good writers can have a misstep, and not to judge writers by just one book.

Zone One should have been exciting. It features a zombie apocalypse, for God’s sake. The protagonist—call him Mark Spitz—and his cohorts are trying to clear a section of Manhattan, the titular Zone One, of zombies. The book’s action takes place over three days, but there are so many flashbacks to Mark Spitz’s pre-zombie life that the narrative becomes bogged down. The last twenty pages nip along nicely, but by then it’s too little, too late.

The Correspondent by Virginia Evans

Spanning ten years, The Correspondent follows Sybil Van Antwerp, a retired lawyer, through her daily life in Maryland. But rather than tell Sybil’s story in prose, Evans presents the novel in epistolary form—letters Sybil writes and letters she receives. Evans does this in a moving, compelling way, and I found myself saying, “Just one more letter” when I should have been cooking dinner.

Loss and grief inform the story. While Sybil is feisty—she never backs down from a fight or a slight, no matter how small—she is also stuck. Despite being prickly to the extreme, Sybil does care about other people and makes connections in unexpected ways. During the course of the book, these connections help Sybil unfold, and I was with her all the way.

The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout

Born and raised in Portland, Maine, Elizabeth Strout’s style typifies many people’s notion of a New England writer—spare, no-nonsense, and so brisk it borders on abrupt. I’ve read several of her books. There is no fat in them and only a glint of humor here and there. Yet, a sympathy for the characters runs strong in her books, and nowhere is this more evident than in The Things We Never Say.

Artie Dam—teacher, husband, father, and son—is the main protagonist in this story set in Massachusetts. A born teacher who is well-liked, Artie should be happy, but he’s not, and as the story progresses, we find out why. The book wheels through time—past, present, and future—revealing an unhappy childhood and troubles in his own marriage. The title suggests part of his problem: all that is left unsaid. Woven in with Artie’s problems are problems of the United States. But in his own gentle way, Artie makes a big difference in his community. If only there were more Arties in the world.

The Things We Never Say is a quiet story beautifully told.

Sag Harbor by Colson Whitehead

Yes, I gave Whitehead another chance. Such is the strength of The Underground Railroad and The Nickel Boys. Sag Harbor is a semi-autobiographical account of a summer in 1985 spent at Sag Harbor in the Hamptons, in a community built by upper-middle-class Blacks.

The story is told from fifteen-year-old Benji Cooper’s point of view. He and his brother Reggie are left to their own devices during the week while their parents work in Manhattan. Do Benji and Reggie get in trouble? Not really, although Benji comes close to losing an eye during a BB gun battle with his friends. Mostly, though, Benji broods about being a nerd, about girls, about fitting in, and about his alcoholic and at times abusive father.

There’s not much of a plot. Sag Harbor is essentially a slice-of-life story that ruminates on the past and explores the present. Yet there is a forward motion of sorts. At the end of the summer, Benji realizes he is now one of the older kids as he watches younger kids play on the beach.

At times, the book is laugh-out-loud funny. At other times, terrifying as Benji deals with his alcoholic father. I felt both tenderness and exasperation for Benji, exactly the way a parent often feels about their own teenagers.

The Witchmark by C.L. Polk

In a society reminiscent of Edwardian England, magic is reserved for the upper class. Everyone else must hide it or risk being sent to an asylum. Miles Singer is upper class, but his magic has been deemed weaker than that of his more powerful sister, Grace, and he is expected to spend his life assisting her. Not wanting to be in Grace’s thrall, Miles runs away, joins the military, and becomes a doctor, all the while hiding his magic. Miles gets caught up in a murder case, falls in love with a fae named Tristan, and becomes embroiled in his sister’s and father’s plans.

The characters and plot are well done and hold the reader’s interest. Unfortunately, Witchmark is undermined by platitudes and overwriting. Example: “The blood in my veins turned to ice.”

Fans of fantasy would probably enjoy the story. Non-fantasy readers should probably give Witchmark a pass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Environment

Back in the Swing. Plus, One Year with Bolty

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Well, that was a long two weeks with COVID, and I had a mild upper respiratory case, which meant I had no trouble breathing and never felt as though I had to go to the hospital. But I was tired, achy, feverish, with no sense of smell or taste, and no appetite. As families do, I passed it to Clif, and he is about five days behind me. But we both know it could have been worse, and we are grateful that it wasn’t. So far, Dee has not had any symptoms, and we are cautiously optimistic that she is either asymptomatic or somehow missed getting it. Fingers crossed!

According to NPR, COVID is surging across the United States, especially in the South and West, but also in the Northeast and Midwest. I’ll be immune for a few months and will wait until December to get my booster. When I did errands last week—Clif was too sick to even think about going out—I wore a mask even though I was at the tail end of my bout with COVID. The last thing I wanted was to spread this nasty virus to anyone else.

Now on to a happier subject…our one-year anniversary with Bolty.

Last year, we bid a sad farewell to our fifteen-year-old Honda Fit, which had too much rust for an affordable repair. While I was sorry to see the scrappy, little Honda go, I was thrilled to buy a car of my dreams, an electric vehicle that could be charged at home and didn’t belch carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

So how has the year been? In a word, fantastic. Bolty gets us where we want to go, on average, about a sixty-mile round trip from our home. But it will take us much farther, around two hundred miles, and in the few cases where we have gone beyond Bolty’s range, we just stopped at a charging station, of which there are many points south of us. (If we wanted to go to northern Maine, we would be sure to check out charging station availability and perhaps rent a traditional car for the trip.)

In Maine, last winter was very, very cold—well below zero for stretches of time—and Bolty started without a hitch. (We do not have a garage, which means Bolty stays outside in all weather.) Using the heater does decrease Bolty’s range somewhat, but not so much that it became a problem. Again, we had plenty of charge for our local trips.

Do I miss going to gas stations to fill up the car? I do not. Charging Bolty from home costs us about $15 a month, well below the $40 —depending on the price of gas—that fuel would have cost for our Fit. (Because Clif and I work from home, and we are not gadabouts, our cars have very low mileage.)

2026 has been a hot year with drought and fire for some of my blogging friends. (Actually, Maine is in a drought, but so far, thank goodness, there have been no fires.) We humans are making the planet a hotter place, and by having an electric vehicle, Clif and I feel as though we are doing our small part to combat climate change.

I know some of my blogging friends have EVs and are doing what they can to reduce their carbon output. In the comments, tell me your stories. We can’t all do the same things. However, if we do what we can, I can’t help but feel that the world will be a better place.

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Listening

Midnight Oil: Beds Are Burning

This 1987 song speaks to many issues and seems very appropriate for the times we are in.

 

News

Taking a short Break Because of…COVID

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For six years, I dodged the COVID bullet, but I knew that one day it would catch up with me, and so it has. On Monday, I started having symptoms; on Tuesday, I was in full swing with a stuffy nose, a sore throat, a dry cough, and a woozy head. Clif bought a COVID test, and sure enough, it confirmed my suspicions. Yesterday I felt a little better, and today I feel better still. So I’m cautiously optimistic that I have a mild case.

Still, I need some time off to rest and recover.

What kind of darned virus goes around in the summer? COVID does, I guess.

I’m hoping Dee and Clif don’t get it, but this virus is so contagious that I suspect they will.

Anyway, I’ll be back when I feel better.

But to leave on a high note, here are some pictures of my August Garden in the front yard.

See you in a week or so!

 

News

A Meet and Greet

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As most readers probably know, in November in the United States there will be important elections around the country. Will the Republicans, led by Trump, hold the House and Senate, or will the Democrats take control? (Because the United States has a two-party system, it always comes down to one party or the other in control, even though there is a sprinkling of independent candidates in Congress.)

I come from a long line of working-class Democrats and registered as a Democrat as soon as I could vote. Do I get disgusted with the party, especially on the national level? You bet. But here I am. With the Republicans, stretching from Regan and leading to Trump, there hasn’t been much of a choice in my voting life. At least as I see it. I guess the best way to describe me is that I am an old-fashioned FDR (Franklin Delano Roosevelt) Democrat who believes that government can and should be a force of good to help people lead decent lives.

In preparation for the upcoming election, on a hot, humid Saturday, Dee, Clif, and I went to a meet and greet for two Democratic candidates.

We met Tavis Hasenfus, candidate for Maine State Representative,

and Matt Dunlap, candidate for Maine’s 2nd Congressional District in the U.S. House.

The meet and greet was held in a beautiful old white farmhouse just down the road from us. By the house, there is a broad sweep of lawn leading to trees and then to the Upper Narrows Pond, which is big enough to be considered a lake. Truly, this spot is one of the loveliest places in town.

I’m always interested in learning what people read, and the first question I asked both candidates was “what are you reading?”

Matt replied, “The Great War in Modern Memory by Paul Fussell, The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett, and Stolen Pride by  Arli Hoschschild.

From Tavis: The Federalist Papers and Invisible Rivals: How We Evolved to Compete in a Cooperative World by Jonathan R. Goodman. Then, somewhat puckishly, he added that Go, Dog. Go! by P. D. Eastman was his favorite children’s book.

Go, Dog. Go!? That was a favorite of our youngest daughter, Shannon. After all, who could forget these punchy lines between two dogs, one with a hat and one without?

“Do you like my hat?”

“I do not .”

“Good-by!”

“Good-by!”

But I digress. Outside on the patio, everyone chatted casually for a while, and Tavis told us that if he won, this was going to be his last term as a state representative, and he was thinking of running for state senator. Then we went inside for a more organized Q&A. Unfortunately, Tavis had to leave early, and Matt Dunlap had the floor to himself.

Dunlap noted that these are uncertain times, and we can do better than we are doing now. Repeatedly, he spoke of the notion that government should help people, with services such as health care and childcare. Music to my ears, of course. When I asked him if he would be in favor of a public option for childcare, he said he would.

Good. What a huge benefit this would be to single mothers and to families on a tight budget. Somehow, most of the industrialized world has managed to offer subsidized childcare to its citizens.

Dunlap went on to talk about open borders. He emphasized that without borders, there are no nations, but we need laws that make sense. Right now, ours are too complicated. And law enforcement needs to be held accountable. (No small thing, as recently in Maine, an agent murdered a twenty-five-year-old man, who turned out not to be the target of the investigation.)

Dunlap insisted that taking care of people should be our priority rather than worrying about labels such as socialist, communist, or radical. He praised young people for being more engaged than they ever have been. And he maintained that a lot of people are homeless because they simply can’t afford homes.

He spoke easily and well about many other issues and about his own career, but I think I have summed up the essence of his values. Of course, if Dunlap wins, he will be one of many in the House, and as a new representative, he will not be setting the agenda. However, it’s nice to know that Dunlap’s inclinations will at least be heading in the right direction, one that will benefit everyday people rather than those at the top, the way it is now.

And come November, I will without hesitation be casting my vote for both Tavis Hasenfus and Matt Dunlap.

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Listening

NPR Tiny Desk Concert: Shaboozey

To balance a rather heavy post, here is some music that will make you tap your feet. I love Shaboozey’s easy charm and rich voice. Lately, I have been listening to this Tiny Desk Concert as I begin my writing work. What a great way to start the day.

 

Home, Movies, summer

A Time of Crickets and Warm Nights

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The calendar has flipped to August, high summer in Maine, and right on cue, the crickets have begun singing their sweet, sad song. There is no better place to listen than in our gazebo, which protects us from mosquitoes.

During the day, we are surrounded by green, and it feels as though we are being held by the forest.

But evening is magical, too. On Saturday night, we brought home pizza and stayed in the gazebo until nearly midnight. In Maine, there are not many months where the weather is warm enough for us to do this, and we cherish every opportunity to sit outside without a sweater or jacket.

August in Maine is also the time for tomatoes, and mine have started to ripen.

Did I eat one of those little jewels, straight from the vine? You bet I did. The rest I brought in for lunches during the week.

Clif is making good progress on the house, but the rain today, while much needed, has put a temporary halt on the job. As soon as the weather clears, Clif will be back outside to continue his work.

Last night, on Sunday, we met our friends Dawna and Jim at Absolem for drinks and a chat. While we love this old place with its renovated barn turned into a tasting room, we promised Dawna and Jim an invitation to our backyard sometime soon, while the weather is still warm, to enjoy drinks and appetizers. They agreed that this sounded like a great idea.

So welcome, welcome August, the month of warm delights, a slightly melancholy time as we know summer is coming to an end. Each day, dusk comes a little earlier, and the sun rises a little later. But we will cherish every day of this oh-so-lovely month, going outside as often as we can.

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Listening

Raise Your Hopeful Voice

A Tribute to Glen Hansard

I expect many of you have heard of the Irish musician Glen Hansard and perhaps have even seen the bittersweet film Once, which featured his music and singing as well as that of his then-partner Markéta Irglová. This 2007 movie, made for a pittance and directed by John Carney, touched many hearts, including mine.

Less than a week ago, on July 29, Hansard was killed in a motorcycle accident, and the world too soon lost this talented musician. (He was fifty-six.) There has been a huge outpouring of grief from the well known—Bono and Bruce Springsteen—to ordinary fans of this big-hearted musician. According to the BBC, “For the past 15 years, Hansard had organised an annual Christmas Eve busking gig to raise money for homelessness charities.” I have read that, like many musicians, Hansard believed music flowed across cultures, becoming a creative force that unifies us.

Finally, here is a video of “Falling Slowly,” perhaps Once‘s most famous song and one that certainly catches the essence of the movie.

Farewell, troubadour.

 

Cats, Flowers, summer

Late July, 2026

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At the beginning of the month, we had a horrible heatwave, and I whined about how we don’t have summers in Maine the way we once did. Well, either the weather gods heard my lament and took pity on me, or they decided to pull one of their little tricks. The heatwave lasted for a few days, and since then, we have been having an old-fashioned Maine summer — warm, dry days with temps in the low 80s and cool nights that dip down into the 50s or 60s. In other words, sheer delight. I wish readers suffering through extreme heat could be in Maine right now to enjoy this perfect weather.

My front gardens are in a bit of funk right now and not just because of the work on the house. Somehow, with the demise of my lilies because of the lily beetles, I just haven’t found anything to take their place in terms of color and pizzaz for late July and August. Darn things! The beetles are relatively new to Maine, and I wish they had never crossed the border. But in everyday life, we know how far we get ahead with wishes. The lily beetles are here to stay, and I have decided not to grow lilies in the garden.

However,  the plants on my porch are thriving. Between the perfect weather and just the right amount of watering and feeding, they are in their glory.

Begonias,

coleuses,

and those oh-so-pretty petunias really jazz up the front porch.

In other news…Clif began tearing siding off the house,

but he ran into some problems. Or rather, they ran into him.

Now, for the most part, we are very careful not to destroy the homes and habitat of the creatures who live around us. In our yard, Moles and ants burrow and dig with abandon. Porcupines are allowed to use the underneath of our shed for a home. But Clif was unable to work on the house with a nest guarded by dive-bombing biters. (I am not sure if it is a hornet or wasp nest, but the results are the same. Readers, if you know what kind of nest this is, do let me know.)

So last night, when it was dark, Clif found a long piece of wood and knocked the nest down. This morning, I used the wood to hook the nest, which still had insects buzzing around it, and deposited it into the woods on the side of our yard. At least we didn’t have to use poison to get rid of the problem, and this afternoon, Clif will be able to resume work on the house.

Never a dull moment at our house on the edge of the woods, but Kai, one of our cats, took it all in stride as he relaxed in the living room.

Ah, the life of a cat!

 

 

Movies

The 29th Maine International Film Festival

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The 29th Maine International Film Festival (MIFF) is over, and Dee, Clif, and I are very slowly making our way back to reality. We saw twenty-seven movies in nine days, and yes, dear blogging friends, that is a lot of movies to see in that amount of time. By the end, my creaky knees and legs were not happy at all, and I’m thinking of cutting back next year.

But there were so many good movies I probably wouldn’t have seen anywhere else. I had planned to post my top five, but instead it will be my top six, and I could easily include ten. Yet again, I am so grateful to have a film festival of this caliber in Waterville, Maine, population 16,000. When I mentioned this to a filmmaker I met, she was astounded that such a small community would be able to host such a terrific film festival.

Before I list my favorites from the film festival, here are some scenes from our first day at MIFF 29.

Right from the start, there was popcorn,

and old friends to catch up with.

Drinks after a day of movies,

and a beautiful sky.

Then, back to the car, with Maine Film Center aglow,

and the Arts sign lighting the way.

Many thanks to the staff and volunteers who make this film festival possible. They illustrate in a beautiful way how art and creativity can thrive even in small communities.

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My Top Six Movies, Listed in Alphabetical Order, from MIFF 29

Comparsa

This documentary follows two sisters, Lesli and Lupe, as they help organize a comparsa, a street performance, to honor forty-one girls who died in a fire in a so-called “Safe Home” run by the state. Set in a Guatemalan barrio, the film illustrates how the girls and women in that community are never safe from violence and death. Comparsa also shows how art — astonishing body painting, giant puppets, music — can be used not only to protest injustice but also to heal and build community. Comparsa moved me deeply.

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Hen

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get away from those who want to kill and eat her, humans and animals alike. In György Pálfi’s unique film Hen, the story is told from the hen’s perspective as she escapes an industrial farm, encounters a fox, survives being captured by a dog, and overcomes other misadventures in her quest to lay eggs and raise a family. Clucking all the way, the hen is never anthropomorphized. She is always a hen, at times hapless and at other times clever. This astonishing movie was made using real hens with nary a hint of CGI. (In the ending credits, viewers are also assured that no animals were harmed.) From the jump, my sympathies were with the hen on her perilous journey. It also made me consider whether it is enough to be a vegetarian.

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Mallory’s Ghost

One of the great pleasures of MIFF is that they show films made by young directors who are just starting out. (Three of the films in my top six fit this category.) While Arabella Oz, the writer, director, and lead actor, might have made a few other films, she is clearly young enough to be at the beginning of her career. Mallory’s Ghost is set (and filmed) in Maine in a beautiful old house by the sea. Mallory and her boyfriend Sam have come to visit the enigmatic Lorna, Sam’s former writing professor. Sam hopes to kick-start his writing, and Mallory seems to be along just for the ride. Except she isn’t. She harbors ambitions of her own, and with reminders of Sam’s ex-girlfriend Louise everywhere in the house, Mallory becomes unreasonably jealous of the glamorous, talented ex who seems to be everything she is not. Mallory becomes convinced that Louise’s ghost is haunting her, even though Louise is still very much alive. However, the movie takes an unexpected twist that I will not reveal. The only thing I want to add is that Mallory’s Ghost illustrates that there are different kinds of hauntings, and I found this one to be touching and true. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a trailer for this movie.

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Still Ohio

Right now, horror is big in this country, and it’s not hard to see why. The United States provides plenty of horrors to inspire artists young and old. Still Ohio, Kaylin Allhouse’s debut feature film, centers on college sophomore Ana, who decides to transfer from Boston College to Tulane University so that she can be with her boyfriend, Doug. We never see Doug. We only hear his unenthusiastic voice when Ana calls him. Nevertheless, Doug arranges Ana’s ride to Tulane with three rowdy friends who are not ideal traveling companions. It doesn’t take Ana long to decide the trip is going to be a long one. As it turns out, the journey becomes longer than Ana could have imagined as the four get caught in a time loop that takes them over and over again to the same creepy gas station, which becomes more and more decrepit each time they stop. It is up to Ana to decide how to break free from the time loop, and in the process, there is a fair amount of blood and mayhem. However, even though I tend to be a squeamish viewer, the violence wasn’t too much for me. Again, unfortunately, I couldn’t find a trailer for this movie.

 

Union County

This movie features another young writer/director, Adam Meeks, but this movie couldn’t be more different from Mallory’s Ghost and Still Ohio. Union County is grounded in everyday life as it focuses on Cody (beautifully played by Will Poulter) and his journey toward sobriety. My friend Joel noted that Union County felt like a documentary, and I could see his point. The movie features real people dealing with addiction, and some of the scenes take place in what looks like a real courtroom. But this is a narrative film, and the actor Will Poulter holds Union County as he not only struggles with addiction but also with the guilt he feels for introducing his brother Jack to drugs. Union County is a spare, minimalist film that is nevertheless full of emotion.  By the end, I was teary-eyed watching a scene where Cody has “a long, dark night of the soul.” Does he emerge victorious? No spoilers here. Watch this gem of a movie and find out for yourself.

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Whispers in the Woods

The last movie really is a documentary, but an unconventional one filled with beauty and a reverence for nature as grand-père, père, and fils take to the woods in France. The père, filmmaker Vincent Munier, records the three-generational journey into the forests of the Vosges. Grand-père Michel, a sort of Jacques Cousteau of the woods, taught his son Vincent how to be patient, how to look and listen and be still. Now, they are teaching Vincent’s son Simon the same lesson. All through the film, I kept thinking what a lucky boy Simon was to have such mentors. In addition, Whispers in the Woods is full of stunning photography and the sounds of the forest’s denizens. The poetic narration is a gentle reminder to love and cherish the wild places on Earth, places that are under threat from not only human development but also from the climate crisis.

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I hope these brief descriptions of six of the twenty-seven movies I saw at the film festival give readers some idea of the variety MIFF offers. In all likelihood, many of these films will not be coming to a cinema near you, but in time most should be available through a streaming service.

 

 

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