Category Archives: News

The Time has come…

After ten years, the time has come to say farewell to Notes from the Hinterland. This was not an easy decision as this is a wonderful community, and I have made friends near and far. I have even been fortunate enough to meet a few blogging friends in person, and what a pleasure that has been.

But as I approach seventy turns around the sun, I am keenly aware that I have more years behind me than I do ahead of me. And with the passing of those years has come a reduction in energy. Cleaning house, cooking, gardening, reading, and fiction writing absorb most of my time. Back in the day, I could whip through all these activities and have energy to spare. But no longer. Now I have to choose.

Fiction is my first love, and for sixty years—since third grade—that love hasn’t diminished. (I think of nonfiction writing as a beloved cousin.) This fall, my fifth novel, Darcy Dansereau, will be published, and I am already working on a sixth, Iris Starmoss: Elf Detective. I have many more ideas for future novels, probably more than I will ever get a chance to write. But I’m going to make a stab at it, and fiction writing is where I want my writing energy to go.

So farewell, Notes from the Hinterland. It’s been a great run, and blog writing has brought me a lot of joy. From time to time, I’ll pop into readers’ blogs and leave a comment, but it won’t be on a regular schedule.

For those who want to stay in touch, there are two easy ways: on Facebook (Laurie Graves) and on Bluesky (lauriegraves). On Facebook, I am already friends with several blogging friends, and I enjoy the brief snippets they share about their lives.

I’ll end with a couple of photos of our backyard on the edge of the woods. Winter has come, and with it the beautiful light that this cold season brings.

Again, farewell!

 

Jury Duty: The Importance of Technology

Last week I was on jury duty, and what a week it was, both riveting and emotionally draining. The case involved a man in his late thirties who was accused of Gross Sexual Assault and Unlawful Sexual Contact with an eleven-year-old boy.

Right from the start, the evidence was against the defendant. On the first day of jury duty, we saw a video taken by a police officer—who was wearing a bodycam—when he went to the defendant’s home to collect his phone. As soon as the defendant, who was outside, saw the policeman get out of the cruiser, the defendant booked it inside. Then, the defendant made the police officer wait outside for five minutes before letting him in.  After which, the defendant proceeded to tell lie after lie about how he didn’t have his phone and couldn’t remember the number. When the police officer informed the defendant that his home would be torn apart if he didn’t produce the phone, the defendant finally took the police to where the phone was hidden, in a vent in the bedroom.

The second video we saw was filmed the day after the alleged assault when a councilor at a local sexual assault unit interviewed the boy. I will not go into any details except to say the boy looked as though he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He wore sneakers with Velcro straps, and during a particularly tense part of the conversation, the boy ripped the straps back and forth, back and forth. I want to add that the councilor was very respectful and kind, using different approaches to put the boy at ease.

The third compelling piece of evidence came from DNA testing and the testimony of forensic experts. The morning after the alleged assault, the boy told his mother what had happened, and fortunately there had been no shower to wash the evidence away. The mother immediately brought the boy to the local sexual assault unit, where DNA swabs were taken, and the boy was interviewed. Only two DNA profiles were found under the clothes on the boy’s body, his own and the defendant’s.

The defense lawyer brought in his own forensic expert, who maintained that DNA could travel in many ways from person to person, with sneezing being a prime example. This would turn out to be the defense lawyer’s main argument, that his client’s DNA profile under the clothes on the boy’s body could have come from anywhere.

When all the evidence had been presented, when all the witnesses had been called, and the closing arguments made, the jurors went to the jury room, and it was the court’s turn to wait for us.

As it turned out, the court only had to wait for a little under an hour. We discussed all the evidence presented and the various testimonies, including what we had seen in the videos. It didn’t take us long to agree that the defendant’s DNA profile under the boy’s clothes didn’t get there by way of sneezing or through any other route that DNA might take. We found the defendant guilty of both Gross Sexual Assault and Unlawful Sexual Contact.

This, of course, is an abbreviated version of what happened in court. Out of respect for both the boy and my readers, I have avoided using the upsetting language that I heard. I expect you will be able to read between the lines.

In conclusion: I was so impressed with the judge, who was cool and even during the whole trial;  with the passionate prosecuting lawyer, whom one juror described as a pit bull; with the defense lawyer, who had a thankless job; and with my fellow jurors, who listened intently  and closely to both sides. We took our job seriously. Finally, I was also impressed with the way that technology was used as evidence by the prosecution. The DNA profiles and the videos made the picture much clearer.

Next week, I will return to more pleasant subjects—Clif’s birthday, fall coming to Maine. But as my jury duty indicated, life is not always rosy in the hinterlands, where people commit serious crimes, just the way they do anywhere else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fall Flurry

September is shaping up to be quite the month. There are two birthdays—mine and Clif’s—and while our celebrations are simple, they are always so much fun. My birthday is next Monday, and Dee, Clif and l will all be playing hooky, taking time off from work, having lunch at a local noodle shop—how I love noodles—going to a movie (surprise, surprise!) and depending on the weather, enjoying tea and cookies by the Kennebec River. Finally, ice cream on the way home. Phew, sounds like quite the day. Clif’s birthday is at the end of the month, and of course the birthday boy will get to pick his birthday outings.

Between my birthday and Clif’s, Shannon, Mike, and their dog Holly will be joining us for more birthday brouhaha. Our philosophy has always been: celebrate early, celebrate often.

At the end of the month, I will be getting together with two lovely blogging friends—Judy from New England and Thread and Dot from The New Vintage Kitchen. What a treat that will be! We will be meeting at Stonewall Kitchen in York, which is about a 200 mile round trip from my home. That will give our EV Bolt a good workout. Will I be able to get there and back again without stopping at the Kennebunk Travel Plaza to charge the Bolt? I’m thinking I will, but stay tuned.

Speaking of the Bolt…how I have come to love our zippy little car. I’ve gone here and there locally, and what a pleasure it is to drive the Bolt. Best of all, we charge the car from home and therefore never have to go to a gas station. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I don’t miss that smelly experience. Not one bit. The final cherry on the sundae? It costs half as much to charge the Bolt as it did to put gas in our Honda Fit.

On a more serious matter, I was chosen for jury duty, and the trial will be held on September 16, 17, and 18. I found the jury selection process fascinating, and I was so moved by the judge’s ending speech to us, where she reminded everyone that the defendant is innocent until proven guilty, that we need listen closely to the evidence and keep an open mind. This I will make every effort to do. After the trial and verdict, I’ll write more about my experience.

Finally, after some testing of the camera on my phone, Clif, Clif the computer guy has determined it is the hardware that’s at fault. Therefore, next month, when this phone is paid off, I will be getting a new one, and once more there will be pictures on my blog. I have only had this phone for three years, and, yes, it burns my biscuit that it stopped working the way it should so soon. We are not ones who replace things at the drop of a hat. We like to things to last.

But, to borrow from Tony Soprano, what are you gonna do?

Note: I will be taking the week of September 15th off from blogging. Between my birthday and the trial, I know I won’t be able to keep up with reading blogs and commenting. I will back on September 22.

 

 

 

 

Welcome to the ‘Ber Months!

Yesterday, my son-in-law noted that we have made it to the ‘ber months, his favorite time of year.

Mine, too. I don’t think I’m overstating the case by claiming that autumn in northern New England is spectacular. Blogging friends, if ever you want to visit Maine, this is the time to do so. While there are still plenty of tourists until mid-October, the summer frenzy is over, and the weather is usually delightful—warm days, cool nights, low humidity.

Then there are the changing leaves where, among others, the maple and beech trees are a burst of glory that lights up the landscape in even the smallest town. After such a dazzling display, November can seem like a somber month, but I like the modest russets and browns of the oaks, which hold on to their leaves longer.

This September is proving to be a busy time for me. I have been called for jury duty, and on Thursday, I will find out if I have been selected. If I am selected, I am not sure if I will be able to keep with reading other blogs and making comments. I might have to take some time off.

But I will keep you posted.

Note: As the lack of pictures indicates, I am still having trouble with the camera on my phone. I’m not sure what I am going to do about this. So for now, no photos. Sorry!

Bolting into Our Electric Journey

Last week we received some bad news about our 2010 Honda Fit—it would cost about $3,000 dollars to get it to a point where it could be inspected. After a short discussion, both Clif and I agreed that the time had come to give up our trusty little Fit. We did this with sadness as the Fit has served us reliably over the years. But $3,000 seemed like too much to put into a fifteen-year-old car.

Our trusty Honda Fit, glimmering after an ice storm

The time had come to buy another car.

Longtime readers will know that we take climate change very seriously. (This dry blazing hot summer is certainly a reminder that the change is upon us. Now.) It has long been our dream to get an electric car, but in the past, they cost more than we could afford.

I am happy to report that this has changed. While electric cars are still in the minority, there are now enough on the market for good, used cars to be available.

We thought we might have to go to Massachusetts to get one, to a dealer in Tewksbury, but as it turned out, a local dealer had a used EV, a Chevy Bolt, available at a price we could afford. With 44,000 miles on it, the car has had one owner and is in beautiful condition.

And guess what color it is?

It seems as though we attract red cars, doesn’t it?

The Bolt’s battery range is about 245 miles, which suits us just fine. Both Clif and I are homebodies, and with our home charger, that range will get us where we want to go in central Maine. Dee’s EV has a range of over 300 miles, and for longer trips we can use her car. And, at least in the part of Maine we live in, public chargers are plentiful. If we needed to, we could stop at one for a recharge.

But I don’t think we’ll need to. A friend of ours has an EV with a similar range, and it gets her to southern Maine and back with no problems. (This means that I can still meet my blogging friend Judy of New England Garden and Thread for our yearly lunch at Stonewall Kitchen in York, Maine.)

We are almost a completely electric household now. We have a propane hot water heater, and the plan is to replace that next summer with a heat-pump water heater, which will complete our electric journey.

The cherry on our sundae is that most of our power comes from solar farms.

Onward, ho!

 

 

Summer of the Sharks

With age comes nostalgia, and at sixty-seven, I find I am succumbing more and more to a longing for the good old days of Maine summers, when the weather was seldom hot and humid, when smoke from forest fires in Canada did not spread their haze over our state, and finally, when beachgoers could swim in the ocean without worrying about an encounter with a Great White shark

Time was when we swam at the ocean, all we had to worry about was the cold water. And cold it was. My family developed a technique of going in gradually, until the cold stopped stinging our legs, which in turn became, well, yes, numb. Then we could play in the waves until our teeth started chattering, and we had to take a break. After all, we are Mainers. We eat ice cream in the winter, don’t turn on the heat until October when the temps dip below 30°, and don’t let a little thing like bracing water stop us from swimming in the ocean.

But Great Whites are another matter. Previously, they came only as far north as Massachusetts, on the warm side of Cape Cod. Far, far away from us. Or so we thought. In the halcyon days of the 1990s, we swam without concern about large ocean predators.

But in the past five or so years, the Great Whites have moved north. So far, only one Maine woman has been killed swimming, and that was in 2020. Still, the Great Whites are out there, and the sightings have been increasingly common, especially this year, when shark flags have been flying at popular beaches to warn swimmers of potential danger.

And why are the Great Whites coming as far north as Maine? According to Maine Coast Islands, there are two prime reasons: One, due to preservation efforts, seals have made a comeback along the Maine coast, and Great Whites like to eat seals. Two, our waters are warming, thus drawing the Great Whites northward.

Here is a video of an encounter with sharks that a lobsterman recently had:

For the record, I do not think predators are evil. I know that they have to make their living, which involves eating other creatures. When either coyotes or fishers got two of our cats, I didn’t take it personally. Still, I mourned the loss of those cats, Finnegan and Margot.

Likewise, I don’t want to become a meal for a Great White. Ditto for family and friends or anyone else for that matter. Because of arthritis, my swimming days in the Maine ocean were pretty much over. The Great Whites have sealed the deal as the saying goes.

Still, my love of the ocean remains strong, and it is a great pleasure to be on the shore, looking out at the vast sea. The salt air, the call of gulls, the lapping of waves will never lose their appeal.

When I do go, as I scan the water, I will be keeping an eye out for a fin cutting the water. As much as Great Whites give me the shivers, it would be a thrill to see one.

As long as nobody is in the water.

To complete my nostalgic yearnings, I’ll end with an oldie but goodie from Toad the Wet Sprocket.

 

Vacation Time—Movies, Movies, Movies

Outside the Maine Film Center at last year’s MIFF

 

July is a happy time of year for Dee, Clif, and me, dedicated cinephiles who think that going to the movies is one of the best things to do. In July, in Waterville, Maine, comes the Maine International Film Festival (MIFF), a ten-day extravaganza where over 100 movies are shown. Especially exciting this year is that Clive Owen is going to be the guest of honor, and six of his movies will be featured. Dee, Clif, and I are keen fans of Owen, and we have signed up to see all six of his featured movies, where he will be available for a Q & A after each film.

We all have full festival passes, which means we can go to as many films as we want. Sadly, we won’t be able to watch all of them. There’s just not enough time in the schedule to see every movie. (100 movies in ten days would be a bit much, even for us.) We do have plans to see 30 movies, which is not too shabby for 10 days of viewing. And, yes, by the end we are tired but happy.

As subtitles don’t bother me at all, I especially like watching foreign films. I love to hear other voices and other languages, to see the world from a different perspective. Around the planet, there are many other cultures, each with their own unique take on the world, and it’s good to be reminded of this. Especially now.

So starting today, I will be on vacation and will come back on July 21 with a short list of favorite movies. In today’s world of streaming services, many of them will be available to viewers all over.

See you on the flip side!

A crime film from last year’s MIFF

 

Our Electric Journey

Longtime readers will know that Dee, Clif, and I take climate change very seriously. While we know that a system-wide change is absolutely essential, we believe that individuals have a responsibility, too.  As such, we are doing what we can—actually, what we can afford—to stop burning fossil fuels for energy. In short, we are going electric. This is the first time in human history that folks have this option, and kudos to all the engineers and designers who have made this possible.

To date: We have one electric car and a charger, which is right in our yard. The car’s range is over 200 miles, even in the winter, and the car has worked beautifully. (We have had it about a year now.) In our electric car, we have driven to southern Maine, a round trip of about 170 miles, without a single hitch. Our second car is a traditional gasoline engine car, and we hope to get another electric one when it’s time to trade it in. (As our gasoline car is 15 years old, that time will soon be coming.)

For heat, as is typical of many Mainers, we have a variety of systems. We have electric baseboard heat, which works well but is expensive. This came with the house. We have a wood furnace in the basement, which puts out the coziest heat ever, but hauling wood is a lot of work, and Clif is no longer a spring chicken. Then, about twenty-five years ago, we had propane heaters installed. They work well, but they still use fossil fuel and recently, they have become expensive to run.

A few weeks ago, we had the propane heaters removed, and in their place, two heat pumps were installed. Here is the one that will heat (and cool!) our kitchen, dining room, and living room.

This morning was a cool June morning, not unusual for Maine. Inside, the temp was about 64°F. We turned on the heat pump, and it didn’t take long for the dining room, kitchen, and living room to reach a comfortable 70°. At which point, the heater shut off.

Best of all, the heat pumps will cool the air and remove the excess humidity. For the past few years in Maine, July has been a horrible hot month, with effective temperatures in the 100s. I can only imagine what my parents and grandparents would think of these temperatures. Back in the 70s, when it reached 85°, we thought the heat was unbearable. But it only reached 85° a few days at the end of July, and hardly anyone in our town had an air conditioner.

That has all changed, and we are ready with our heat pumps. Good friends have heat pumps, and they love them. Best of all, the heat pumps are much cheaper to run than electric baseboard or propane or oil.

A post about our electric journey would not be complete without mentioning a blogging friend, Tom from Tootlepedal’s Blog. He and his wife, Alison, have gone the extra mile with their electric journey. Not only do they have an electric car but they also have installed solar panels in what they call their garden. (Here, we call it a yard.)  Bravo, Tom and Alison! You two are an inspiration to me.

Finally, I do want to add that going solar and electric can be expensive, and I totally understand why it is out of the reach of some people. With our combined incomes, Dee, Clif, and I have more leeway than many folks do.  But what’s important is to make what effort you can.

In the end, small things add up.

Our little solar lights definitely come under the “small things” category, but we do love the glow.

 

And here’s a song by MJ Lenderman reminding us that we all got work to do.

 

 

 

Over the Moon

This picture was completely unstaged. The iris quite naturally grew over the moon.

 

June, June, June! Exit Spring and enter Summer. Officially, in the northern hemisphere, Summer begins on June 20 this year. But in Maine, Summer always arrives the beginning of June. The bright green blush of the trees and bushes is gone. The leaves are full sized. Pine pollen no longer coats cars and patio furniture a hazy yellow.

The time of intense gardening is done. Do I miss it? Yes, I do. There was something thrilling about getting up each morning and planning to spend as much time outdoors as my knees would take. Housework? What’s that? My book that’s coming out in the fall? Editing will have to wait until June. May gives northern gardeners a sense of urgency and purpose that pushes most other activities to the side. And nothing brings zest to life like a sense of urgency.

Yet, how good it is to settle into summer. Clif put up the screen house, which means we can enjoy sitting on the patio after 4 p.m. when the mosquitoes come out in hordes to plague us. It has been a wet spring, perfect breeding weather for those dratted little biters.

Take that, mosquitoes!

 

June is also the time I get together with my blogging friend, Judy of New England Garden and Thread. It is a treat I always look forward to. Last week, we met at Stonewall Kitchen in York, Maine. They have a lovely patio where Judy and I can sit and chat for hours, where none of the servers will give us pointed looks suggesting that we have outstayed our welcome.

We arrived early, at around 11:00, just after breakfast had ended and just before the lunch crowd arrived. We had our choice of seats.

By noon, the patio was full.

 

I had a fig jam and brie grilled cheese served with homemade chips. My oh my, was that sandwich ever good. I could have one for lunch today. And tomorrow.

Judy and I talked about gardens—she brought me aster and lupine seedlings—and family. We tried to solve the problems of the world, but as they are so big and numerous, I’m afraid we didn’t get very far.

Our next plan is to get together with blogging friend Dorothy from The New Vintage Kitchen. The distance is more of a challenge, but we hope we can make it work.

Stay tuned!

 

 

 

I’m Back…Sort of

Hello, all!

Beautiful May rushed by in a green haze of gardening. It was a wet month, but as long as there wasn’t a downpour, I was outside working. I was worried about how I would be able to garden with such creaky knees, but as the old saying goes, where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Clif did all the heavy lifting as well carting away leaves in the  wheelbarrow. I set a chair wherever I was working so that I could sit down when the knees got too achy. And by gum, I got quite a bit done. Not as much as I would have liked, but enough to have a thriving garden. There certainly is a lesson here, isn’t there?

Although I still hobble a bit and use my cane when I am out and about, my knees are slowly improving. (I was on medication that made my bad knees even worse. I am no longer on that medication.) When the intensive gardening is done, I plan to go back on the exercise bike, and I’m guessing my knees will improve even more. Biking has always been a big help.

I still have one more week of extra busyness in the garden, and after that it will be just maintenance. This is why I added “Sort of” in the title of this piece. I will try to keep up with blog reading as best I can, but I think it’s going to catch-as-catch-can until the last push is done.

Also, I am taking time for a little fun. On Wednesday, I will be meeting Judy of New England Garden and Thread for our annual lunch out. What a treat it is to get together regularly with a blogging friend. I wish more of you lived close enough so that we could do this.

I’ll end with pictures of the beauty that can be found in our little one-acre yard. Some of the flowers are there courtesy of Mother Nature, and others are from garden.

First, from my gardens.

In the front yard, Solomon’s seal
In the backyard, the garden abutting the patio

And courtesy of Mother Nature.

Jack-in-the pulpit
And the ever lovely violets

 

See you next week.