All posts by Laurie Graves

I write about nature, food, the environment, home, family, community, and people.
Books, Music

Three Things Thursday: Three lessons Learned through a Book, a Singer, and another Book

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My weekly exercise in gratitude, or as some of my blogging friends put it, three things that made me smile this week.

As this blog surely indicates, I love the natural world for its beauty as well as its struggles. Because I live in the hinterlands, my posts often reflect this. But I also love art—books, movies, music, theater, and paintings, and today’s Three Things Thursday will illustrate how this love illuminated my life, the way it so often does.

First, Myrtle the Purple Turtle a delightful new children’s picture book—released just a few days ago—by my blogging friend Cynthia Reyes.  Myrtle the Purple Turtle is a gentle book that address a serious subject—not looking like most everyone around you. Race certainly comes to mind, but you could also add ethnicity, disability, or any number of things that make people feel different. In the time-honored tradition of many children’s books, Cynthia Reyes uses animals to explore this especially relevant subject. In short, Myrtle is not like most other turtles. Instead of being green, she is purple. After being bullied because of the way she looks, Myrtle takes steps to change her color, and the results aren’t exactly what she had expected. I don’t think I’m giving too much away by telling readers that the book ends on a hopeful note.  Jo Robinson’s illustrations are charming but vibrant, giving warmth and personality to this lovely purple turtle.

Second, the singer George Ezra and his song “Don’t Matter Now.” All during the summer, after the work of the day, my husband and I would go to the patio, have a drink, and listen to music. It was our response to all the horrendous news and decisions coming from Washington, DC. Ezra’s song somehow exactly fit our mood.

Sometimes you need to be alone
It don’t matter now
Shut the door, unplug the phone.

One day, I was wondering what George Ezra looked like. The radio doesn’t give you any idea, and none of the DJs really discussed him. Ezra has a big, deep bluesy voice, and in my mind’s eye he was African American, maybe from the South, maybe from Detroit, in his  mid-thirties, and ruggedly built. You can imagine my surprise then when I Googled Ezra and discovered he was a skinny white boy from England. (I hope my British blogging friends aren’t laughing too hard.)

What I especially love about this is how George Ezra’s voice upended my expectations about the way he looked.  And having expectations upended shakes up the mind, which is often a very good thing.

Third, A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki. Actually, this is a double gratitude that should be shared by Title Waves, the wonderful book group I belong to, hosted by the library and facilitated by the equally wonderful Shane Billings, the Adult Services Librarian. But I digress.

How to describe A Tale for the Time Being? In essence it’s a tale told in two parts. The journal of Nao, a teenager in Tokyo, is washed up on the shore of an island in the Pacific Northwest, where it is found by a woman named Ruth. The story rocks back and forth between the lonely, suicidal Nao and Ruth, who suffers from writer’s block. Throughout this quirky but often harrowing story, Ozeki explores Buddhism—Nao’s great-grandmother is a Buddhist nun and a fabulous character. She also touches on bullying, family, honor, conscience, depression, right livelihood, and memory. Finally, Ozeki examines the nature of books and readers and  how they relate to quantum mechanics.

Phew! That’s a lot for one book, but Ozeki pulls it off with grace and warmth, coming up with memorable characters along with some very zippy concepts.

 

Food, Nature, News

A Glorious October Day, But No Biking for Me

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Yesterday, we got much needed rain, but today the weather has cleared. The day is warm—ridiculously so for Maine in October—and the sky is blue. A perfect day for a bike ride, except that my leg is just not up to it. My right leg, which hit the bar of my bike as I fell, still has a bruise with the circumference of a small grapefruit.  (Fortunately it doesn’t have the mass, only the width. ) I hobble. I rest. I hobble some more. I rest some more.

I am grateful that I didn’t break anything, but I feel a bit glum about not being able to go on bike rides, and I suspect I won’t be able to go on any until next spring. As soon as my leg stops hurting so much, I’ll be riding the exercise bike, that road to nowhere.

Despite my sore leg, I was able to take some pictures this morning, of the sun streaming into the woods and onto the trees. The changing leaves have not been brilliant this year—too warm, too dry?—but still they are lovely.

As the ferns change from green to tan, they light up the woods.

Tomorrow, weather permitting, I hope to get into town, with the car, of course, and take some pictures of trees by the lake.

Spring and fall are such glorious seasons in Maine. Spring has the flush of youth, and it bursts upon us in a rush, with a froth of blossoms and an oh-so tender green. Spring never stays as long as we would like as she runs headlong into summer.

Fall, on the other hand, comes in an aching blaze, and on nice days, there is such a glory of bright leaves and blue sky that you can almost forgive fall for binging the shorter days that eventually lead to cold winter. Almost.

In the fall, our thoughts turn to soup, and I have two of Farmer Kev’s butternut squashes that are begging to be made into soup. I also have some of his onions and garlic. My little garden has a frenzy of herbs, with the oregano being completely out of control.

Clif will help me chop the vegetables and herbs, and who knows? If my leg isn’t too sore, maybe I’ll even make a batch of biscuits to go with the soup. My biscuit recipe comes from my mother, who surely made the best biscuits in Maine, if not New England.

Anyway, these are all things to perk me up. I still wish I could go on a bike ride, but these fine October days, with their beauty, along with the plan for soup and biscuits, chase my glum thoughts away.

 

 

 

Celebrate, Community

The Great Pumpkinfest: Part Two

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Here are some more pictures from the Great Pumpkinfest in Damariscotta. Such a fun event! I plan to go back next year, but maybe on the Tuesday after the actual fest. That way, the pumpkins will be complete but won’t have started to decay, and there won’t be as many people.

Now, an interlude with a flower, a beautiful rose that somehow managed to bloom in October.  In Maine. It almost seems miraculous.

Back to pumpkins.

The end. Until next year.

Celebrate, Community

The Great Pumpkinfest: Part One

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Yesterday, I went with my friend Dawna to Damariscotta for its annual Pumpkinfest.

Damariscotta is a lovely little village—population circa 2,000—nestled beside the even more lovely Damariscotta River, a tidal estuary of the gulf of Maine. Here is a shot looking out from town onto the river.

Because of the natural beauty, artists have been drawn to this area, which means the village has a zippy, arty vibe.

Yesterday, when we went to Damariscotta, the village was certainly zipping as various businesses and individuals were getting their giant pumpkins ready for the fest. (Today is when the fest officially opens, with a parade and many outside vendors as well as the pumpkins, of course. We were told that the town is packed, and it was best to come very early to get a parking spot.)

But first things first. As the day was drizzly but clearing,  Dawna and I decided we would begin with lunch, and that if we were lucky, the rain would be gone by the time we finished our meals. We went to a place called Crissy’s, a breakfast and coffee bar, open from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., Wednesday through Sunday.

I am happy to report that my BLT was mighty tasty and it, along with every thing else on the menu, was reasonably priced. Honest food at honest prices. My favorite kind of place to eat.

And by gum, when we were done lunch, the weather had indeed cleared, and for the cherry on the sundae, the light was bright overcast, just perfect for taking pictures of pumpkins.

Outside of Crissy’s, a young woman was in the process of creating a hatching dragon inspired by one of my favorite series, Game of Thrones.

We crossed the street and came upon this beautiful carved pumpkin.

The man who was carving—I didn’t get his name—explained that this Pumpkinfest was done totally for fun. It was not a competition. There were no prizes. Now, competitions have their place, but I love the idea of a fest where the pumpkins are carved, painted, and decorated for sheer creative enjoyment. However, while I didn’t question the man any further, I expect there is still some friendly rivalry to see who can come up with the most creative pumpkin.  Whatever the case, this master carver looked as though he was having a good time.

Then, for something completely different, stylish black and white.

And next, a hideous clown. (There. Now you know how I feel about clowns. )

That’ll do for today. Tomorrow, I’ll post some more pictures of this fun Pumpkinfest, to get all of you in the mood for this season of ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties.

 

 

 

 

News

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes

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Let’s just say that I’ve been busy. On Wednesday, I took a tumble from my bike, and while I got some lumps—one as big as a large orange—I didn’t break anything or get hit by the oncoming car that stopped for me. For that I am grateful. Very grateful.

Then, on Thursday, with sore legs, it was off to Railroad Square Cinema for a meeting and a movie to screen. Clif and I belong to the Cinema Explorations committee, and for the next month so we’ll be meeting regularly to discuss, watch, and select movies that will be featured at the snappy little film series—Cinema Explorations—which has been showing for at least ten years. So much fun to be a part of this group, and, if I do say so myself, we put together a wicked good film series.

All this is a somewhat lengthy explanation as to why I didn’t post my usual Three Things Thursday yesterday. But never fear. Barring another tumble from my bike, I plan to continue next week.

So, instead, today, I present you with a sunny flower for Friday. This beauty was taken in the little garden at Railroad Square. It might be October, but there are still some flowers in bloom. No really hard frosts yet, at least in central Maine.

And today, I’m off with my friend Dawna to Damariscotta to get some pictures along its pumpkin trail, an annual fall event for this little town and one that I’ve never been to.

I’ll report back with pictures.

 

Nature

The Solace of the Seasons

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Yesterday, the calendar flipped from September to October, and I could not have imagined a more perfect fall day. The night before, the temperature dipped to a little below 50°F, and during the day it rose to 65°F with nary a hint of humidity.

A perfect day for a bike ride by Maranacook Lake. The cloudless azure sky was a sight to behold, and the water—I know.  I see it everywhere—was Maya blue. Best of all, there were no snakes on the road, very common in Maine in the fall. I suppose the warmth attracts them.

Oh, for three or four more months of these perfect days. For the farmers and the nursery garden owners, rain at night, between 7 p.m. and 6 a.m. until there is enough water to satisfy those who grow things. Then warm, sunny days for those of us who like to bike, walk, and sit on the patio. I realize that’s asking for a lot, but if I were in charge, that’s how the weather would be.

Right now, the leaves have just a hit of color, and there is still a lot of green.

Apples have begun to ripen, and I bought a small bag of Cortlands, crisp and tart, at the grocery store. My plan is to go to Lakeside Orchard and by a big bag of the beauties. That way, when I invite friends over for coffee and tea, I can serve warm, fragrant baked apples with just a touch of vanilla ice cream on top.

I’m always sorry to see the end of summer—the profusion of flowers, the nights on the patio, the warm weather for bike riding. But the apples, the blue of the sky, and the asters remind me that fall brings its own pleasures.

At night, the crickets are still singing and should continue until the cold silences them.  However the hummingbirds—those feisty yet ethereal creatures—are gone, and yesterday I took in their feeders and gave them a good scrubbing. Out the feeders will come next spring, when the cycle begins again. a cycle that is old but is never stale, always a delight, always renewing.

With all that is going on in our country, in the world, this cycle brings me great comfort.

This photo is for you, Quercus

 

 

News

Three Things Thursday: Cooler Weather, Fruit Infusion Pitcher, Clif at 66

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My weekly exercise in gratitude, or as some of my blogging friends put it, three things that made me smile this week.

First, the weather. All right, compared with what the poor folks in the Caribbean have had to endure, the weather in Maine is nothing to complain about. However…traditionally in Maine, September has been a crisp month of warm days and brisk nights and low humidity. All that seems to be changing, and I have semi-jokingly began referring to  September in Maine as the “new August.”

This week, with its high heat—over 90 degrees on some days—and high humidity, it has certainly felt like August. Actually, make that the end of July. But last night, the wind came, blowing away the humidity and bringing down the heat. It is still a little warm for the end of September, but it is lovely rather than too hot. Inf fact, the temperature has gone down so much that I might have to shut the windows tonight.

Second, a totally awesome fruit infusion pitcher that I found for half price at our local supermarket. As a rule, Clif and and I are very careful about stuff—new or second hand—that we bring into the house. We are mindful of the energy required to make new stuff, and our tolerance for clutter seems to be dropping precipitously as we age. However, yesterday when I saw this fruit infusion pitcher in the discount bin, I barely hesitated before snapping it up. Our daughter Dee has been singing the praises of her infusion pitcher, and I am a huge fan of all things fruit or berries.

Therefore, it was with great anticipation that we filled the center section with raspberries and lemons, and readers, I was not in the least disappointed.  The resulting flavored water is utterly delicious, has no calories, and no artificial sweeteners. Quick as a wink, I drank two glasses of this lovely  water, and if it hadn’t been so close to bedtime, I would have had another glass. The infusion mixture can be used for a couple of days, and that is what I call a lot of bang for a berry and citrus buck.

Finally and perhaps best of all, Clif at 66. To celebrate his birthday, we went on a thirteen-mile bike ride on the rail trail in Augusta, and even though it was hot, we utterly enjoyed ourselves. I am so grateful to have a husband, who at sixty-six, has the energy and the enthusiasm to go on longish bike rides when it’s 85°. Bike on, Dude! Bike on.