All posts by Laurie Graves

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

A Punk Named Sherlock

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This is our cat Sherlock. See how sweet he looks sleeping on Clif’s lap?

Nothing could be further from the truth, and this pictures give some idea of Sherlock’s true punk nature. You might call this Sherlock’s resting expression.

Nine years ago, when Sherlock was a kitten, and we first brought him home, he climbed my back ten times as I was trying to work at my computer.

Sherlock is a cat who likes to bite the hand that pats him, and we always have to warn guests not to touch him.

Sherlock is a bird snatcher, and he brings both live and dead birds into the house. We have gotten quite expert at chasing birds through the house and wrapping them in a towel so that they can  be safely released.

Sherlock’s sister is Ms. Watson, and he is such a bully—biting her to the point where sometimes there are little scabs of blood—that she hates to be in the same room with him. Here is Ms. Watson, on the lookout. Because of Sherlock, Ms. Watson is always on the lookout.

Like Launce with his dog Crab in The Two Gentleman of Verona, I could make a long list of Sherlock’s transgressions.

However, I will end with his latest exploit but spare you the gory pictures.  A few nights ago, Sherlock was in a fight with something that fought back hard. There is a huge wound on Sherlock’s neck that makes him look like a zombie cat.

Naturally, we had to bring Sherlock to the vets, and this little trip cost us $130. We were instructed to do unsavory things to the wound and on our own decided to treat it several times a day with peroxide. We have draped towels and blankets where Sherlock sleeps so that no stains are left behind from the wound.

All things considered, Sherlock is doing well, but needless to say, he is grounded. No more going outside for him. Maybe not ever.

I post this piece because I don’t want readers to get the feeling that it’s all skittles and beer at the Little House in the Big Woods. Far from it, as is illustrated by the  story of a punk named Sherlock.

My daughter Shannon, upon learning of Sherlock’s wound, commented, “Isn’t he a little old to be getting in such fights?”

Apparently not.

Addendum: My blogging friend Xenia from Whippet Wisdom advised against using hydrogen peroxide on open wounds. She noted that the peroxide interferes with the healing. A quick spin on the Internet supported her conclusion. Both WebMD and the Mayo Clinic advise against using peroxide on open wounds. So we will stop doing so! Many thanks, Xenia!

 

cooking, Food, Food for Thought, People

In Praise of Decency and Hard Work

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In the United States, this long weekend is Labor Day Weekend, a time to honor those who, well, labor. In the United States, many people work extremely hard, and hats off to them for all that they do to keep this country running—the teachers, doctors, nurses, social workers, librarians, shop workers, volunteers, those who work at home, the caregivers. I could go on and on and have left many out.  For those at the very top who sponge so much out of society, I hope they appreciate the hard work that keeps them in place. (Snarky, I know, but appropriate for this time of widening inequality in the United States.)

Labor Day weekend is also a time when we bid a bittersweet farewell to summer. Yes, autumn is lovely, and there is much to look forward to, but barbecues and patio time are coming to an end.

Accordingly, we invited our friends Judy and Paul over for a barbecue on Saturday. Judy is a pie maker extraordinaire, and she brought over a raspberry pie for dessert. I nearly jumped for joy when I saw the pie because although I’m keen on all kinds of berries, raspberries are my favorite. As my 60th birthday is coming right up, I immediately proclaimed that this pie was a birthday pie. What then could Judy do but leave the leftovers with us? However, as she told me that she had two peach pies at home, I figured I was, in fact, doing Judy a favor by keeping the leftover raspberry pie. Or so I tell myself.

For the main meal we had potato salad made with sour cream and turkey bacon; chicken breasts marinated in a lemon, garlic, olive-oil  mixture and brushed with a mustard sauce; and corn drizzled with brown butter. Farewell, farewell sweet summer.

Over dinner, one of the topics that came up was the devastation wrought by Hurricane Harvey in Houston, Texas. So many stories of brave, selfless people helping each other without regard for income, skin color, or ethnicity. Pets were rescued, too, which I found particularly cheering.

For the past week, I had been thinking about the heroism in Texas and about how people really do pull together during catastrophes. Now, if we could just do the same thing when there isn’t a catastrophe, in everyday life.

I mentioned this to Paul and Judy.

“Everyday life is hard,” Judy said.

So it is. Most of us can rise to the occasion and be our better selves during a flood or an ice storm or a tornado. But when things settle down, self interest, pettiness, and even greed too often kick in. While we all need to take care of ourselves and our families, it is very easy to cross the line to selfishness, begrudging others what we think we should have as a matter of course. In short, we have trouble being consistently decent to each other.

Decency, a humble concept, is hard work, something that must be continually applied not only to other people but also to how we treat animals, the earth, the water, the air.

Somehow, thinking about hard work and decency seems appropriate for Labor Day Weekend.

 

News

Three Things Thursday: Sandhill Cranes (?), A Mostly New England Pizza, Coleus

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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.

All right. I’m going to start with the best thing first, and the title, of course, gives it away. Yesterday, we took the long way home from our bike ride, driving in the car along country roads, listening to music, admiring the scenery. As we came to a large field bordering some gardens, I caught sight of four majestic birds flying overhead. They had long necks and long legs, and at first I thought they were great blue herons. But there was a group of them, and generally herons fly alone. And, the birds were brown.

“Look!” I said, but as Clif was driving, he really couldn’t look.

Then birds landed in the field, and “Stop, stop, stop!” I cried.

As Louis Pasteur observed, chance only favors the prepared mind, and in the back seat, tucked in my bike helmet, was my wee wonder of a camera. Clif duly pulled over and stopped. Out I jumped and snap, snap, snap. I had never seen such birds before, but right then I really didn’t care what they were. I just wanted to get some pictures of them, and I was successful. Because of the distance, the birds aren’t as crisp as I would like, but they are recognizable.

All right, readers. Verify my excitement. Are these sandhill cranes? If so, then joy, joy, happy, happy. I have never seen them before, and I didn’t even know they were in Maine. If these are not sandhill cranes, then what are they?

Whatever the case, those birds certainly made me smile. Wowsah, as we Mainers would say.

The next two things that made me smile are far more modest. After all, what could compete with seeing those birds?

But simple pleasures are still pleasures, and here they are.

An absolutely scrummy pizza we made with Portland Pie pizza dough, available at our local supermarket; tomatoes from my garden; basil and garlic from Farmer Kev’s; Cabot’s cheddar cheese; mozzarella; chicken sausage; and olive oil. Clif put it all together, and oh my, was it good.

Finally, the burst of color that the coleuses provide in my shady yard. No, they are not native, but I love them anyway.

Phew! What a week! I’m still agog at seeing those birds.

Animals - especially dogs, Food, People

Last Sunday in August

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Gone are the songs of the tree frogs and the peepers. Instead, we have the buzzing of grasshoppers and the sweet chorus of the crickets. In Maine, summer—lovely summer!—is coming to an end, and what a nice summer it has been. There have only been a few blisteringly hot days when the temperature climbed to the mid-90s. For the most part, it’s been perfect and sunny, between 75° and 80° during the day, and then cooler nights, just right for sleeping.

While autumn in Maine is oh so fine, I will miss summer evenings on the patio, where Clif and I enjoy a drink or two and listen to music. Already, the days are significantly shorter, and by 6:30 it is a little too cool and damp to enjoy sitting on the patio.

Still, we have a couple of months of warm-enough weather so that we can go on bike rides. And with any luck, we’ll be able to ride some of November. After that, well, no matter how much I bundle up, I am too cold to enjoy a bike ride of any length.

One of things I enjoy most about autumn is the nutty smell of the plants as they dry and go to seed. For someone like me, who has a keen sense of smell, every season has its own aroma, each to be enjoyed—even the cold tang of winter.

To celebrate August and late summer, Clif and I invited a few friends over for wine and appetizers. The weather gods were with us, and we had a fine summer’s day to enjoy being outside. As I was bringing appetizers and plates to the table, I noticed a colorful guest on the lawn. While the pictures aren’t very crisp, they are good enough to share.

After a bit of pecking on the lawn, it was back to a tree, where these beauties can usually be found.

Then, I continued setting the table.

Our friends Denny and Cheryl and Judy—neighbors all—came. We sipped wine, drank beer, ate appetizers, which included Clif’s legendary grilled bread, and talked about dogs, books, movies, television shows, movies, and politics.

The hummingbirds whirred to their feeders filled with sugar water. The finches, titmice, chickadees, cardinals, and woodpeckers fluttered, flew, and chirped as they came to the feeders with sunflower seeds.

Dusk came, and the green shadows deepened. By then, the food was mostly gone, and our guests said their farewells. We all agreed this should be a yearly tradition, a salute to the end of summer and a greeting to autumn.

News

Three Things Thursday: Little Red Apples, Clif by the Bikes, Grapenut Ice Cream

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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, little red apples. For me, there is something about apples on a tree that fills my heart with joy. Could it be because apples are one of my favorite fruit? No doubt. But I also find them very beautiful—even the small ones, which I don’t eat. I took this picture at Norcross Point, a small park in town, and these gleaming gems have the advantage of being by water. Little red apples by water. It doesn’t get much better, does it?

Second, seeing Clif by the bikes. For our daily bike rides, we drive to Norcross Point right in town, where we park our car and then ride along lovely Maranacook Lake. After I was done taking pictures of the apples, I walked back to the car, and there was Clif, in his bright blue shirt, by the bikes and our little red car. It was such a pleasure to see this colorful tableau. Once again, I was filled with gratitude that we have these bikes and are able to ride nearly every day. We don’t go on long rides, but we are gaining strength as the summer goes on. And by gum, my creaky knees are not as creaky as they used to be.

And third, after a bike ride, what is more refreshing than ice cream? Especially when it comes from Gifford’s, a local company that, as my Yankee husband puts it, makes pretty darned good ice cream. Grapenuts is an old-fashioned flavor made from that crunchy cereal once favored by the famous naturalist Euell Gibbons. (He compares the flavor to wild hickory nuts, and the ice cream does indeed have a pleasant nutty taste.) My grandmother loved Grapenuts ice cream, and back then it was only available at ice cream stands. Therefore, when we went out for ice cream, that’s what she always would get. When I eat Grapenuts ice cream, I think of my grandmother. Here’s to you, Mémère.

Books, Food

The Once and Future Lobster Roll

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Yesterday, I went to Fast Eddie’s in Winthrop to have lunch with my friend Barbara. Fast Eddie’s is a seasonal restaurant and more than a little retro, with a drive-in as well as a place to eat inside. There are also picnic tables and an old-fashioned playground that looks like it came straight from my childhood.

Another friend, Alice, had given me a priceless tip: Not only is Fast Eddie’s a funky place to eat with lots of Rock ‘n’ Roll memorabilia, but it also has incredible lobster rolls.

Lobster rolls are one of my favorite things to eat, and as my 60th birthday is right around the corner, I decided to indulge when I went out to lunch with Barbara. Oh, am I glad I did because Alice was absolutely right—those lobster rolls are fantastic. Mine was piled high with fresh lobster held together with just a hint of mayonnaise.

Our server was a perky young woman who knew what was what as we discussed the makings of a good lobster roll.

“There are four ingredients and only four,” I said. “Lobster, enough mayonnaise to hold it together, lettuce, and a roll.”

“That’s right,” she agreed.  “Do you know that some people actually want celery in their lobster salad?”

We both made a face.

“What is up with that?” I asked. “I’ve also heard of cooks wanting to add peppers or spices.”

We  shook our heads over the misguided taste of some people, usually those “from away.”

Well, they can’t help it, can they? After all, they’re not from Maine, the lobster capital of the country. Poor things. (I do want to hasten to add that not all people from away have misguided tastes when it comes to lobster rolls. Fortunately, most people from away like lobster rolls just the way they should be.)

Here is a picture of my amazing, utterly delicious lobster roll. Or should I say “lobstah” roll.

Then, because this was a pre-birthday celebration, I decided to guild the lily by having an ice cream sundae with Eddie’s homemade ice cream—chocolate with peanut butter.

You better believe I was full as can be after that feast.

As if all that weren’t enough, Barbara gave me this book for my birthday.

I’ve already flipped through it, and along with recipes for dishes using fruit, it also has recipes with winter squash, including one for a soup I’m itching to make.  Soon!

No two ways about it. Yesterday was a finest kind of day.

 

 

Animals - especially dogs

Visiting Kittens

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Our friends Judy and Paul recently got new kittens, and they invited Clif and me over to their house to see the babies while they were still in their adorable stage. (They grow so fast!)

And utterly adorable they are. While we had tea, the kittens—Cinder and Poppy—played, chasing their toys, their tails, each other. After a full fifteen minutes of rumbling, they were ready for a nap.  After a refreshing sleep, it was playtime again.

It was so much fun watching them, and it will be fun seeing them grow. Welcome, welcome, Poppy and Cinder.

Poppy is on the left; Cinder on the right

 

 

 

News

Three Things Thursday: Daylilies, Daylilies, Daylilies

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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, second, and third: my August- blooming daylilies. All right. I know this is a bit of a cheat, but after the week this country has had, I really needed a soothing dose of beauty. It makes up, at least a little, for all the ugliness that seems to be always on the verge of erupting.

But back to the daylilies and beauty. Truth be told, my front yard doesn’t receive quite enough sun for daylilies to thrive, yet still I plant them. The lilies don’t bloom profusely, but I enjoy whatever beauty they give me. (Surely there is a lesson in this.) The other day was a bright, overcast day, which meant the light was perfect for taking pictures of flowers. Here are three of my August-blooming lilies.

Just looking at the pictures of these three ephemeral beauties makes me smile.