Last weekend was a weekend of extremes. On Saturday, the weather was sunny and clear, which meant we could head to Waterville for a movie (A Light Never Goes Out, a sweet film about loss) and then afterwards a trip to Buen Apetito for lunch with our friend Joel.
We were lucky enough get a seat on the glassed-in porch, and I was struck by how the sunlight hit Joel’s pomegranate margarita.
Clif and I ordered our favorite, potato flautases. We had read online that the menu at Buen Apetito would be changing soon, and we asked our server about potato flautuses. Would they still be there?
“Oh, don’t worry,” she assured us. “They are staying on the menu. Besides, they’re my favorite, too, and I would fight to keep them on.”
Nodding, we smiled and left her a very good tip.
Sunday was a stormy day. The original forecast was for a foot-and-a-half of snow, and that, my friends, is a lot of snow even for a Mainer. Fortunately, we only got about six or seven inches, well within our comfort zone for cleaning the driveway and paths.
Here are some snowy-day scenes.
Pushing through the snow to open the door.
A shovel, ready and waiting.
The view from the front deck.
Our little red Fit under the trees.
Clif with Sno-Joe, our electric snow-thrower.
Dee and I cleaned the cars and shoveled the walkways, and I’m pleased to report that even with creaky knees, I did just fine. Somehow, I remain unfazed by the prospect of shoveling snow. I suppose it’s because I’ve done so much of it.
Afterwards, we had soggy hats and gloves. In our dining room, we have a handy place to dry some of them. (The overflow goes on racks down cellar.)
Long-time readers friends will be happy to learn that there is plenty of snow for snow-gauge Clif to measure come March. In January, we weren’t so sure, but February has put that fear to rest.
Right about now, this song seems pretty appropriate. Noah Kahan is from Vermont, which, like Maine, knows a thing or two about winter and long dark days.
In Maine, January was a dry month with little snow, but February has been quite a different matter, with a flurry of storms every few days. It certainly looks like winter at our home by the edge of the woods.
This weekend, in between snowstorms, our daughter Shannon and her husband Mike came for a visit to celebrate his birthday.
We are big believers in celebrating, and the whole of Saturday was mapped out for Mike’s birthday.
It started with a pancake breakfast. I know this is bragging, but Clif’s pancakes are the best in central Maine. So light and fluffy and delicious. The veggie sausage patties and home fries weren’t too bad either.
After a leisurely breakfast and lots of time spent talking—no, we didn’t solve the world’s problems, but we certainly tried—we headed into Augusta to Cushnoc Brewing Co. for pizza.
We started out with snacks.
Then we moved on to pizza.
What to do afterwards? Why, onward to Absolem Cider Company, which is right here in little Winthrop, Maine (population 6,000), about three miles from where we live. We still can’t believe such a terrific place is so close to us.
To get to the old barn with its tasting room, there is a pathway lined with lights and snowy picnic tables, and it felt like a magical winter scene in the still, cold night.
Inside, the barn was dark and cozy, filled with folks drinking beer, cider, wine, and cocktails as they listened to Maine musician Kevin Leary. In a clear voice, he sang covers of Neil Young and other musicians.
Mike and Clif each ordered a special beer called Mott the Lesser, a Russian Imperial Stout brewed by Tributary Brewing. It is the most remarkable beer I have ever tasted, with strong notes of coffee and caramel. I can only conclude there was alchemy in the brewing process.
We left after the music was done and headed back home, where there were presents and an interested dog. We had cake, of course, but I forgot to take a picture of it.
As we Mainers would say, it was a finest kind day, with one event just flowing into the other.
And speaking of flow…there is a wonderful animated movie from Latvia, Belgium, and France called Flow. It’s won a Golden Globe and is one of my favorite movies of the year. The story revolves around five animals in a world without people and thus has no human dialogue. But there are plenty of animal and nature sounds. Into this world, which looks post-apocalyptic with remains of human civilization, comes a horrific flood.
The main character, a black cat, bands together with a dog, a lemur, a capybara, and a secretarybird to survive the flood. There are scenes both terrifying and humorous as the animals cope with the ever-rising water that forces them out of their homes. The very last image, following a rescue, is as precise and moving as the ending line of a haiku.
If Flow comes to a theater near you, don’t hesitate to see it. And if it does not—Flow is, after all an indie film made for a few million dollars—do watch this beautiful, moving film when it is available through a streaming service.
What a difference a presidential election makes. Before November, I was full of enthusiasm for my blog, especially for my Thankful Thursday posts, where I wrote about the good things in my life.
Now, I have little enthusiasm and energy for my blog. I am just so sad, and the hose of sewerage coming from the first two weeks—has it only been two weeks?— of Trump’s presidency doesn’t help. In the face of such malevolence, writing about life on the edge of the woods seems trivial, my thankful posts naive.
And yet I have missed the blogging community. I’ve intermittently kept track of blogging friends’ posts, but it’s not the same as reading and posting regularly. So here I am. This piece is a tentative first step in returning to something approaching a normal blogging schedule.
Despite my heavy heart, I have still been reading novels, listening to podcasts, and watching television series and movies.
For reasons that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, I have become obsessed with World War II. (No, I am not comparing Trump with Hitler. Bad as Trump as, he doesn’t reach the horrible evil of Hitler.)
A French television series I have become particularly engrossed with is Un Village Français (A French Village.) Covering the years from 1940 to 1945 (and beyond), the series centers on Villeneuve, a fictional French village, and how the various inhabitants cope with the German occupation of France. Some villagers just try and live their lives, no easy thing to do when the Germans are occupying your community. Others collaborate. Some join the resistance, an uneasy coalition of Communists, Socialists, and Gaullists, among others.
There is a huge cast in A French Village, with the focus on a group of main characters, all of whom are vivid. Because this a French production, there are affairs aplenty, but they never sink the show or get in the way of the central issue: who resists and who collaborates? Warning: main characters do get killed. Don’t get too attached.
As I watched the show I asked myself, what would I do? Would I resist, or would I keep my head down? I think of Marie, one of the main characters in the show and a hero of the Resistance. In one scene, she is biking madly down the road on some important Resistance business. Her expression is resolute, and the camera focuses briefly on her shapely legs. (Back then women biked in skirts.) I hope I would be like Marie, but in all honesty, I can’t say for sure that I would.
The series is not without its flaws. There are plot contrivances and jumps that don’t always make sense. Nevertheless, A French Village is a monumental achievement and very much worth seeing.
How to watch it? Here’s the rub. Some of the seasons—but not all—can be viewed on Amazon. The missing seasons are important, and I don’t recommend watching it this way. For those who get Kanopy, a library streaming service, all seven seasons are available. Our library system also has the seven seasons available on DVD. Yours might, too. Finally, the series can be watched via the streaming service MHz Choice, which costs 7.99 a month.
As the title of this post suggests, I am taking an extended break. For how long, I don’t know. I’m going to be honest—this election has really knocked the stuffing out of me—and I need time to regroup, to refocus. Somehow, writing about our happy little lives on the edge of the woods no longer holds interest for me. In time, I hope this will change, but I’m not sure that it will, and as this is a lifestyle blog rather than a political blog, taking a long break seems prudent. From time to time, I will be checking in with blogging friends’ posts to see how things are going with them.
There really isn’t much more to say. Our country is headed in a dangerous direction, toward chaos, vengeance, and authoritarianism. Most of Trump’s Cabinet picks seem to come straight out of Gotham City—the fabled hometown of Batman—with Trump being the biggest Joker of them all.
Before leaving, I do have a quotation and a song to share. First the quotation, from Jan Struther’s book Mrs. Miniver, published in England in 1939, a very bad time for the world.
“However long the horror continued, one must not get to the stage of refusing to think about it. To shrink from direct pain was bad enough, but to shrink from vicarious pain was the ultimate cowardice. And whereas to conceal direct pain was a virtue, to conceal vicarious pain was a sin. Only by feeling it to the utmost, and expressing it, could the rest of the world help to heal the injury which had caused it.”
I can’t help thinking about how disappointed and horrified all the Americans who fought in World War II would be to see where our country is going. They fought for this, for a convicted felon and a bully to lead the country?
During the next four years, however painful they might be, I will not be looking away. I’ve joined a local women’s advocacy group and will be doing my small bit to resist.
Finally, here’s the Tears for Fears song, “Mad World,” covered by Gary Jules. It perfectly captures how sad and perplexed I feel.
Fair Warning: This post will not feature a gentle, upbeat piece about nature and life at our house by the edge of the woods. Instead, it is a lament about the choice too many voters made on Tuesday. If this isn’t your thing or doesn’t match your politics, feel free to skip it.
On Tuesday, the votes were cast, and I am still reeling over the results. I was convinced Harris would win. Silly me in my blue bubble with like-minded friends.
However, a week ago, I did see an ominous sign that should have warned me of what was to come on Tuesday. When Clif and I went to Lowe’s to pick up a few things for the house, we parked behind a huge pick-up truck with the most vulgar, obscene array of anti-Harris/Biden bumper stickers that I have ever had the misfortune to see. I just sat there and gaped, reflecting on how I would never, never have similar bumper stickers about Trump on my car. Never.
Hostility and anger radiated from that truck, and I thought about how I wouldn’t want to meet the driver, a man, in a dark alley. In fact, I would probably cross the street to avoid him.
I am betting, that Trump, a fulcrum of crude resentments, was the candidate of choice for that driver. Naturally, I did not ask him.
Does Trump mean this? Who knows? I guess we will find out.
I am heartbroken that so many voters—almost 73 million across the country—went for this man who is such a threat to the United States. Will he drag this country down? Is this it for democracy?
Again, we will find out.
I am taking a couple of weeks off from blogging. I need time to recover and regroup. And to figure out how to resist in my own creaky-kneed way.
I’ll end with grandfather of grunge, the great Neil Young. Let’s keep Rockin’ in the Free World.
Last Tuesday we went to Cushnoc in Augusta to celebrate our daughter Dee’s birthday. It is one of her favorite places, and I must admit that they have mighty fine pizza.
We started out with drinks, a coconut tequila concoction with a Halloween surprise.
Did I eat those gummy worms? Yes, I did. I might be old in body, but I am young in spirit, and I still have a fondness for chewy candy.
We ordered pizza
and nachos. Both were delicious.
As we ate, we enjoyed the fall decorations, the reflections inside and out.
We had a jolly good time, all the more fun for going out in the middle of the week, which we seldom do. Happy birthday, Dee!
On Saturday, Clif and I went to a craft fair with our books, and a woman stopped by our table. We chatted for a bit, and I mentioned I grew up in Vassalboro, which is where my Great Library Series begins.
“Vassalboro?” she asked, giving me a keen look.
“Yes,” I replied. “My name was Laurie Meunier then.”
“Laurie!” she exclaimed. “I’m Cristina Lewis.”
“Oh, my God! Cristina!”
In seventh and eighth grade, we were really good friends.
“Sleep-over friends,” Cris said.
Yes, sleep-over friends.
But after we graduated from eighth grade, we went to different high schools, and we grew apart. I haven’t seen her since we started high school, all those long years ago.
She gave me a hug, I gave her a book, and we are now Facebook friends.
What an absolute delight to reconnect with Cris. It was the highlight of my weekend, and I hope to get together with her sometime soon.
In the United States, tomorrow is Election Day. My blog is not a political blog, and mostly I stay away from political topics, which I know can be very polarizing.
However, this election is so consequential that I felt I must write about it at least a little. The historian Michael Beschloss has called it the most consequential election since 1860 and 1940, and at The New Yorker Festival he said, “I think Donald Trump meets most of the parts of the definition of the word ‘fascist,’ ”
Longtime readers will know that I am left, left of center, a liberal or a progressive or whatever you want to call it. In the past, my candidate of choice was the inimitable Bernie Sanders with Elizabeth Warren being a close second. I believe that the role of government is to help folks deal with the complexities and the astounding costs of modern life. I am a firm supporter of a strong social safety net, and I admire the Nordic countries that provide this.
Tomorrow, without hesitation, I will be voting for Kamala Harris and hoping that we will at last elect a woman to be president of our country—someone who cares about all the people, not just those at the top; someone who respects the rule of law and who will concede graciously if the vote goes for Donald Trump; someone who will continue the progress made by Joe Bidden; someone who does not admire authoritarian rulers in other countries; someone who believes in a woman’s right to make choices about her own body.
Then there is Donald Trump, a convicted felon and a Putin admirer, a would-be tyrant who uses alarming words to describe what should happen to his opponents. Someone who bragged about grabbing women and how he could get away with it. Someone who incited his supporters to violence on January 6 and did nothing to stop it. I hope this election is the last we hear from Donald Trump, that he slinks back to Mar-a-Lago and leaves this country to heck alone.
In 2008 and 2012, even though I voted for Barack Obama, I respected both his opponents—John McCain and Mitt Romney, conservatives who nevertheless would have worked with Democrats to pass legislation for the good of the country. I remember how honorable both men were when they were defeated. How different Trump is from either of them.
To conclude on an upbeat note: one of the things that I especially like about Kamala Harris is her laugh. It makes me smile every time I hear it, and on Saturday Night Live, her laugh was the focus of the opening skit. Watch it and smile.
Fingers, toes, and everything else crossed that this lady with the wonderful laugh becomes the next president of the United States.
Note: It’s that busy time of year when Clif and I go around to various holiday fairs to sell our books. Therefore, until the new year, I will neither be reading blogs on the weekend nor commenting on those posts. It seems to me that those who post on the weekend also post during the week, which means I will be mostly keeping up with the comings and goings of blogging friends. Also, I am cutting back my own posting to once a week, on Mondays. After the new year, I am planning to resume Thankful Thursday posts.
Oh, Those Leaves
Right now the leaves are falling everywhere at our home by the edge of the woods.
On our front steps,
on the chairs on the patio,
and on the table, too.
A couple of afternoons each week are devoted to leaf cleaning.
Clif takes out our trusty battery-powered lawn mower that crunches and sucks up the leaves.
Here’s the yard before lawn-mower Clif has done his thing.
This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who often complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.
Late October
In Maine, peak foliage is over, and the glorious burst of orange and red has passed. But the landscape still has a glow, albeit a more modest one of russets and yellows.
When I work outside, I am smitten by this glow and am ever so thankful for October, from beginning to end.
This beauty is in the woods on the edge of our backyard
The icing on the October cake is that Dee’s birthday is at the end of the month, and to celebrate there just might be pizza involved at her favorite place in Augusta.
Tea
At our home by the edge of the woods, we are big tea drinkers, and our array on the back of the stove certainly illustrates this.
Now, after looking at this picture, you might think we are an affiliate of Harney & Sons, but I assure you we are not. We are, however, huge fans. We fell in love with this tea when our daughter Dee went to Bard College in upstate New York, and we visited a nearby Harney & Sons tea room. Over the years, that love has held steady.
The tea is a little pricey, but as we eat most every meal at home, we justify the expense by thinking about the money we save by not eating out. A meal for two at a restaurant could buy a lot of tea from Harney & Sons.
Watching
Television Series: Penelope Created by Mark Duplass and Mel Eslyn Available on Netflix
Maybe it’s because I live on the edge of the woods and witness its green mysteries every day, but I am a sucker for stories where people go into the forest not only to find themselves but also to find out if they can survive.
Therefore, when I read about the premise for Penelope—a young girl takes to the woods because there is something empty inside her that she longs to fill—I was all in. And Penelope did not disappoint.
Grounded by the luminous Megan Stott, Penelope follows the eponymous heroine as she leaves civilization behind and disappears into the Cascade National Park in Washington state. In the woods, Penelope must learn to fend for herself. This includes learning how to fish, build a shelter, and collect edibles from the forest.
Strictly speaking, this is not a realistic account of how a suburban teenager would survive in the deep woods. With few wilderness skills, Penelope learns mighty fast how to get by. Instead, this series has the feel of a fable, an odyssey that focuses not on the hero, Odysseus, but rather on, well, Penelope, who in this case is not married and is not required to be faithful to a wandering hero.
The cinematography in Penelope is so stunning that the forest becomes a character in its own right, providing beauty, sustenance, and, yes, terror. In this sense, I felt that the series creators caught something essential about nature and wilderness.
I was gripped by Penelope’s journey and when the series reached its startling conclusion, I wanted more. Fingers crossed that there is a Season 2.
Note: For the next few weeks I’ll be taking a break from featuring other posts that highlight simple pleasures. When fall chores are done, I’ll return to listing them.
Last Saturday, we headed to Boston to spend the night with our daughter Shannon and her husband Mike. It was a celebration of fall birthdays—mine and Clif’s in September and Dee’s in October.
We headed to Brunswick to take the Amtrak Downeaster to North Station in Boston. (None of us are city drivers.)
All aboard!
On the way, Clif enjoyed an apt beverage for our Boston trip.
In Haverhill, halfway to Boston, I spotted this sign—Brunswick, Maine, on one end and Boston, Massachusetts, on the other.
We only had to wait a short while for our Uber ride to take us to Shannon and Mike’s apartment. What a sky!
Once at the apartment, the feast began. First, appetizers.
And drinks, which for me included a martini made by Mike. So cold and snappy. I might have had two.
For dinner, Shannon made an utterly delicious chickpea curry. I could have some right now.
Then, of course, cake.
The next day, after a lovely brunch that Shannon prepared, we sadly headed home.
With the upcoming election, times are stressful for a lot of people, including me. Here’s a peppy little song to start off the week and lift the spirits. This video, with its wonderful diversity, sure makes me smile.
And if you like Pharrell Williams’s music and enjoy quirky films, put his Piece by Piece on your to-be-watched list. After all, it’s not every biopic that is told using Legos. In this case, it was absolutely the right thing to do.
This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who often complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.
Begonias
Confession time: When I first started gardening, begonias were not my favorite annuals. Instead, I was drawn to flashier flowers such as cornflowers, cosmos, and dianthus. Ignoring my shady yard, I planted these bright beauties, and I got a very poor showing. After a few years of throwing my money away, I finally turned to begonias, an unassuming yet lovely flower. And I haven’t looked back.
In my back garden, I plant a begonia border the end of May, and those sturdy little flowers bloom nonstop until the first frost gets them. Time was, that would be late September in. Now it is mid-October, and we have yet to have a killing frost. Times certainly have changed.
Begonias don’t get leggy, and they hardly need any dead heading. Who could ask for anything more?
Begonias, I salute you, and I’m sorry I ever snubbed you.
Cards from Blogging Friends
Every once in a while, I get a card from a blogging friend, and this always makes me smile.
Last week I got one from Carol Ann from Fashioned for Joy. How I smiled when I saw that sweet panda. Thanks so much, Carol Ann!
The card on the right is one I received from from my blogging friend Alys from Gardening Nirvana. Alys is a crafter extraordinaire, and knowing that chickadees are Maine’s state bird, she made that card for me. Many thanks, Alys.
Both cards will go on the metal bulletin board I have by my desk, where I can look at them whenever I want. And smile as I reflect on how grateful I am to have blogging friends.
Plant-Based Chocolate in Target
Clif, Dee, and I are all vegetarians, and the majority of our diet is plant based. We try to live as lightly as possible and to do as little harm as possible. As I mentioned in a previous post, we are far from perfect. We occasionally eat dairy—not too often as Clif and I are lactose intolerant—and sometimes eat eggs. I know I should be shopping at thrift stores rather than ordering online, but with creaky knees, I all too often give in to the temptation of online shopping.
Another confession: I absolutely love chocolate, but I am not a fan of dark chocolate. The texture always seems chalky to me, and I am not one who enjoys bitter food. (Brassicas, I’m looking at you.) For someone who wants to adhere to a plant-based diet, milk chocolate is problematic.
But glory be, things change and sometimes for the better. Hershey now makes plant-based chocolate that is available at Target. I have had other plant-based chocolate, but never Hershey and never from Target.
So yesterday, Clif and I made our way to Target to pick up some of that chocolate—almond mini-bars and peanut butter cups—along with a few other things. While the store had plenty of the almond mini-bars, they were out of the peanut butter cups. Although I was disappointed, I was also happy that the plant-based peanut butter cups were sold out. People are buying them! In Augusta, Maine, no less. There are some hip places in Maine, but Augusta is not one of them.
And how are the almond mini-bars? Readers, I am happy to report they are delicious. They are, however, a little pricey, but that might not be such a bad thing as it will encourage me to use some, ahem, restraint.
Notes From the Hinterland 