All posts by Laurie Graves

I write about nature, food, the environment, home, family, community, and people.
Animals - especially dogs, Celebrate, Food, Winter

Second Christmas

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Because our daughter Shannon and our son-in-law Mike spent Christmas in North Carolina with his folks, we decided to have a belated celebration the first weekend in January. Unfortunately, the weather gods had other plans for us, and a storm kept Shannon and Mike home that weekend. The next weekend, then, we decided.

However, those weather gods were plotting yet again to send a storm our way, but this time we outsmarted them. Shannon and Mike came the day before the storm and left the day afterward. I am happy to report that we celebrated the holiday in our usual simple, cozy way, and it really did feel like Christmas.

It was lovely to see the girls again.

And the storm that came to central Maine on Saturday made it feel all the more like Christmas.

On Saturday morning, there were presents and pumpkin bread. In the afternoon, appetizers and a new game—Betrayal at House on the Hill. In the evening, homemade cheddar cheese soup.

Dessert, unfortunately, didn’t turn out that way it should have. I pressed chocolate chip cookie dough in a skillet to be baked and brought warm to the table and served with vanilla ice cream. But even though the skillet cookie was nicely browned on top, the middle was gooey to the point of being raw. We thought that perhaps I should have used only half the batter. Readers, any suggestions? I’m willing to give it another try.

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While the storm on Saturday wasn’t bad for central Maine—snow mixed with a little rain—it was devastating for our coast, which hadn’t recovered from the previous storm. More flooding, more property damage, more roads destroyed. It’s heartbreaking to see the damage. Even though I live inland, I love the coast, and as a Mainer, I feel connected to it. I have been to many of the places that were ravaged by the storm, driven on  roads now destroyed.

Governor Mills declared a civil state of emergency for all eight coastal counties. And rightly so. Those communities will need a lot of aid to recover from the storms.

All in all, in the past few weeks, Mainers have received quite the punch from storms causing damage that would have been inconceivable when I was young. Yes, we had a lot of snow, and the snowbanks really were taller than I was when I was a child. We plowed, we shoveled, and went about our business. As far as I can recall, there wasn’t much damage, and we hardly ever lost our power.

But these wind storms in the winter are something new, and because of the rising sea, the damage is made worse along the coast.

The effects of climate change are with us now, and we have to deal with increasingly destructive storms.

I can only hope that we have the personal and political will to stop the climate crisis from getting worse.

Here is a clip that shows one small part of the storm’s destruction. All along the coast, the story is the same.

 

Birds, Winter

After the Storm

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In central Maine, we came through Tuesday’s storm just fine and were spared the worst. We didn’t lose our power, for which we were very grateful.

I did make some oatmeal squares ahead of time, just in case we needed to console ourselves in the flickering light of an oil lamp.

As it turned out, we consoled ourselves in the nonflickering light of electric lamps.

But we did get some snow, and then some rain, which made a slushy mess Clif had to clean with his scoop. It was too wet and heavy for our electric snow thrower.

The birds, who had sheltered in the woods behind our house during the storm, were out in full force on Wednesday morning. It’s hungry work staying warm during such bad weather. Most, if not all, are finches.

The Maine coast, however, wasn’t as lucky as inland. There were massive surges and flooding where roads and even some homes and businesses were destroyed. Here is a clip from News Center Maine that shows some of the damage from Tuesday’s storm.

It’s been one heck of a winter, and it’s just barely started.

 

 

Birds, News, Winter

Oh, for Pete’s Sake

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As I mentioned in my previous  piece, I had planned to start posting on Wednesdays rather than Mondays in 2024. But guess what? Another nasty storm is forecasted to blow into Maine on Tuesday night and into Wednesday.  Along with a storm watch that will bring wet, heavy snow, we have received a flood warning and a high wind watch, with expected power outages. To borrow from the excellent crime show Fargo: Oh, for Pete’s sake. (Fargo is set in Minnesota and North Dakota.)

So instead of posting on Wednesday, I am posting today.

Tomorrow, I’ll be making a big batch of black bean soup, which we can heat up on the camp stove should the power go out. Also, because treats are important during a power outage, I’ll be baking oatmeal bars with chocolate chips.

What makes this storm so particularly galling is that on Sunday, we had the most perfect snow storm with six to eight inches of light fluffy snow. Clif and our daughter Dee were able to easily take care of the cleanup, and it was a pleasure to watch the falling snow while chickpea soup bubbled in the slow cooker.

Here is a picture from my dining room window taken during the storm. If you look carefully at the feeder, you might notice the falling snow along with a little bird feeding. I think the bird is a gold finch.

Here is another picture taken  from my dining room window this morning after the storm.

I must admit to feeling a little discouraged at the thought of having another power outage and all the work it entails.

But on a more cheerful note, I have received gifts from some of my lovely blogging friends.

Oranges and lemons from Betsy and picked in her own backyard.

Sweet Santas, again from Betsy, and a pretty quilting square from Judy of New England Garden and Thread.

Finally, a beautiful bookmark from Lavinia of Salmon Brook Farms.

With such thoughtful blogging friends, it’s impossible to stay down in the dumps for too long.

I’ll keep you posted about the storm.

Animals - especially dogs, Celebrate, cooking, News

Back Again in 2024

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As many of you know, in September my daughter Shannon, her husband Mike, their two dogs—Holly and Somara—and their cat Penny moved in with us. One phase of their life had ended, and they were starting a new phase with different jobs. Staying with us allowed them to take their time to find a place that was exactly right for them as well as for the dogs and cat.

This Shannon and Mike did, with a lovely new apartment overlooking the water. In late December, dogs, kit, and kids left, leaving the three of us—Clif, our daughter Dee, and me. The house is now very quiet. While I miss the hubbub, it feels great to return to my old schedule, which not only includes blogging but also working on my upcoming book, Darcy Dansereau, a slice-of-life fantasy set in Maine in the 1970s.

Along with Christmas, December included a challenge courtesy of Mother Nature—a rain and wind storm with gusts up to 70 miles per hour. This storm whipped through central Maine with the expected results—widespread power outages in the days leading to Christmas. We were without power for four days, and it was even longer for some people in central Maine.

The storm also brought about an unexpected result—flooding for communities by a river. While flooding is common in the spring, it is pretty much unheard of in December. As I am fond of saying, in these times of climate change, weird is the new normal. These floods were as bad as I’ve ever seen them, but as we don’t live near a river, we stayed dry.

Because we have a wood furnace, we were warm and cozy during the power outage. In addition, we have a camp stove, and in town there is a business with an outside spigot where we could get water. So we were all right during our time without power.

During the power outage, we were still taking care of the dogs and cat while Mike and Shannon were getting settled in their new apartment. Here is the expression on Holly’s face as the storm blew and raged outside.

Because the light was low, the focus isn’t the best. Still, I think it captures her mood, which was pretty much the same as ours: none of us liked the storm one bit.

But through it all we did have a light to shine with an old lamp that belonged to Clif’s parents.

The Thursday before Christmas, early in the morning, the lights came on, and we all rejoiced.

The dogs and the cat settled back into their comfortable routines.

My brother, sister-in-law, and nephew came over to celebrate Christmas Eve with us, and what a jolly time we had. Unfortunately, no pictures were taken of the event.

I did, however, take pictures of Christmas morning, and our first ever Crustmas feast. The idea for Crustmas came from a delightful podcast called Strong Sense of Place: The Library of Lost Time. The hosts, Dave and Mel, explained how they celebrate the holiday with Crustmas, which revolves around their love of toast. (I, too, love toast, and as soon as I heard their idea, I was all in.) They buy a number of nice loaves of bread and provide a bunch of yummy toppings: Nutella, jam, cream cheese, butter. They also have a charcuterie board, which we did not do this year but might next year. However, the genius idea is to bring the toaster right to the table so that there is no running back and forth to the kitchen to make toast. At the table, out pops the toast, hot and fresh for eager eaters.

Here is the table on Christmas morning all set up for Crustmas.

Crustmas was a smashing success, and we will do this again next Christmas. However, as Dave and Mel reminded listeners, there is no need to confine Crustmas to Christmas. The glories of toast can be celebrated all through the year, and that’s exactly what we plan to do.

A very happy New Year to all my wonderful blogging friends. I will be posting once a week, on Wednesday, unless something special comes up that deserves my attention.

Until next Wednesday.

News

An Extended Break

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The clocks have been set back an hour, and the dark now comes at 4:30 p.m. Most of the yard work has been done, and we are finishing up the last of it this week. Our son-in-law Mike has been a wonderful help, accomplishing in two days what it would take us a month to do.

Our hearts are still heavy because of the mass shooting in Lewiston. Winthrop was hit particularly hard—three dead and two wounded. The support has been tremendous. Very heartening. However, it hardly needs to be said that it would have been far better for everyone if the support was not needed.  Sigh.

As the title of this post indicates, I’m going to be taking an extended break from blogging. Nothing serious is going on, thank goodness, and it may it stay that way. Rather, it’s because of holiday and family hubbub, and the older I get, the more time it takes me to accomplish tasks that I once would have zipped through. Also, I’m halfway through writing book number 5—Darcy Dansereau, an expansion of The Dog Angel, which some of you might have read. I’ve begun referring to the novel as a “slice-of-life fantasy.” Darcy is entirely set in Waterville in the late 1970s, and while there is fantasy and mystery in the story, much of it focuses on Darcy’s everyday life, her sorrows and her triumphs.

I’ll leave you with a photo I took at Absolem Cider Company when we were there the end of October to celebrate Dee’s birthday. It was a beautiful day, warm enough to sit outside with our drinks and watch dusk settle over the countryside.

A very happy November and December to all. See you in January 2024.

News

It Is Over

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Last night, at around 7:45, the body of Robert Card, the mass shooting suspect, was found by the Androscoggin River in Lisbon Falls, the town next to Lewiston, where the murders took place. According to the Portland Press Herald,  “Maine Department of Public Safety Commissioner Michael Sauschuck… confirmed Card died of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

So it is over. But what a long three days it was as we waited. Each day seemed like a week. Winthrop, the town where I live, is close enough to Lewiston for the town police to have recommended a shelter-in-place. Town offices and functions were closed. We found out that a Winthrop High School student and his father had been killed at the bowling alley.

For three days we wondered, where was the suspect? Was he hiding in the woods? Had he left the state? Had he killed himself and was his body yet to be found?

The last question turned out to be the answer, and as soon as I heard the news last night, I felt a strange combination of relief and numbness.

Central Maine is small enough—Lewiston’s population is 37,000—so that most people had some connection to the mass shooting. As I mentioned in my last post, a woman I have known since she was a child narrowly missed being killed at the bowling alley. She was just about to go in when her boyfriend, who was inside, messaged her to stay outside, that there was an active shooter in the bowling alley. Fortunately, the boyfriend was neither killed nor injured.

And while I don’t know the Winthrop student who was killed, my children went to Winthrop High School, and I can only imagine how they would have felt if something like this had happened when they were students. We are grieving for the family.

Now it is time to heal and recover, and it won’t happen overnight. I am emotionally worn out and be will taking a week or so off from blogging to rest and reflect.

Thank you, thank you to the many blogging friends who sent words of comfort and sympathy in response to the last post where I wrote about the mass shooting. I was so touched by all the kind words. It really does make a difference.

 

News

A Mass Shooting in Maine

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It finally happened in Maine in the small city of Lewiston, about 25 miles away from our home. A man with a gun killed people in a bowling alley and in a sports bar, so far 18 in all with 13 others injured.

A heartbreaking and sickening event. A woman I’ve known since she was a little girl narrowly escaped being killed.

The suspect is still at large, and much of southern and central Maine—where I live—is shut down.

I hope that this man is soon captured and put where he can’t hurt anyone else.

I’ll write more later, but I wanted to let everyone know that we are all right.

Fall

A New Phone

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Amid all the excitement in our household that now includes five adults, two dogs, and one cat, I can add a new cell phone to the mix. My old phone had been going for some time, but when I could no longer turn it on without plugging it into a charger, I knew the time had come to get another one.

More not-so-merry confusion as Clif and the nice young man at T-Mobile tried to get all our information migrated from our old phones to the new ones. (The package came with two new phones so Clif figured: What the heck. Why not get a new one, too?) I will spare readers a detailed list of the troubles we’ve had. Suffice it to say we are not quite there with email.

However, one huge improvement on the new phone is the camera, which, along with having a zoom lens, takes 50 megapixels pictures. Holy cats, that’s exciting to me. As soon as the camera was charged and ready, I took some pictures, and I was not disappointed by their clarity.

From yellow leaves in the garden

to Mr. Toad

to a close-up of my favorite mug,

I am utterly delighted with this astonishing camera in my cell phone.

My wee camera, with 20 megapixels, has served me well for many years, but I suspect I will not be using it much anymore.

Farewell, old friend.

 

 

Celebrate, Fall

A Gathering of Scarecrows

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This year, the Winthrop Grange has sponsored a Scarecrow Contest for families, organizations nonprofits, businesses, and churches. The response has been wonderful. Scarecrows are lurking on Main Street. They are settled by light poles. One is even lounging by the library, and he is clearly asleep at the job. All have really jazzed up Winthrop’s downtown.

Here are just a few of the entries. They range from cute

to odd but arresting

to cozy

to elegant

to vibrant

to spooky

to just plain fun.

I can imagine all the scarecrows late at night as they slide off their poles and glide around town, gathering by the lake to have a scarecrow dance, careful to return to their posts before dawn so that nobody knows about their nightly escapades. But those with sharp eyes and a notion for the uncanny might notice clumps of straw here and there by the water, evidence that there was some kind of wild, spooky gathering.

 

Birds, Books, People

Of Tea, Books, Eagles, and a Dear Friend

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Last Thursday I went to one of my favorite places—the waterfront park in Hallowell—to meet Elizabeth, the granddaughter of my dear friend Barbara, who died  eighteen years ago. Elizabeth is from North Carolina, but she worked in Maine this summer, and we were able to meet several times.

The day by the river was overcast but not too chilly. I brought a thermos of tea and some cookies, and we settled in for a long chat. Elizabeth was only five when her grandmother died, and I told her stories about Barbara—about how she was one of the best home cooks I have ever known; about her passion for nature; about her love of story and writing.

Elizabeth not only resembles her grandmother, but she also shares Barbara’s love of books and nature. Accordingly, the talk soon turned to books, my favorite kind of conversation. (And Barbara’s, too.) What Elizabeth was reading—Rachel Carson—and what I was planning to read—The Bee Sting by Paul Murray. We discussed the current trend of not using quotation marks to set off dialogue. I admitted that I’m not a fan of leaving them out. Elizabeth thought that it all depended on the writing and how sometimes it worked to have dialogue without quotation marks.

As we sipped tea and munched cookies, the sun came out, illuminating a white house across the river.

Wouldn’t it be cool, I asked, if the house appeared only when the sun was shining a certain way? And that it would be invisible at all other times?

Elizabeth agreed this would be very cool.

While we were talking, we heard the shrill cry of bald eagles.  One flew right over us, and we were duly impressed. Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough to get a picture of that eagle.

However, I did get this picture, a little blurry, but clear enough to give an impression of this big beautiful bird whose species was nearly wiped out in this country. When I was young, I never saw a bald eagle. Now they are a common sight, proof that sometimes things do change for the better.

As we admired the eagles, I thought about Barbara and how thrilled she would have been to be part of this day. She would have jotted down some of Elizabeth’s book recommendations, just like I did. (The Golem and the Jinni and The City We Became.) She would have exclaimed with pleasure when the eagle flew over us. In her excitement, Barbara might have jumped out of her chair.

I remember one day when Barbara and I were going somewhere together, and I was driving, Barbara cried stop, stop! I stopped, and Barbara rushed from the car to examine a snapping turtle who was laying eggs along the side of the road.

So in a sense Barbara was with us by the river as Elizabeth and I talked in a way that was reminiscent of the way Barbara and I had talked many, many times.

A bittersweet and lovely day.