Category Archives: News

One Square Yard: July 8

Recently, I was invited to participate in a month-long July photo challenge—SquarePerspectives hosted by BeckyB from her blog The Life of B. The challenge is exactly what it sounds like: Rather than post photos with the usual rectangular cropping, the challenge is to post photos cropped square. So each Wednesday in July, I will be presenting a series of square photos from my own yard, which nowadays is the farthest I usually go. Hence the title, One Square Yard.

One of the things I have noticed about a square perspective is how it makes the photos pop and brings the subject closer to the viewer. Not always what you want, of course. Sometimes the long view is best. But I am finding that almost any photo that features a close-up benefits from the square cropping.

What’s Making Me Happy: July 3, 2020

Actually, even during this time of the pandemic when I miss my family like crazy, many things are making me happy this week. Therefore, instead of one item, I am offering several.

First, with much fanfare, I present my two new hoses, each 100 feet long, which means I can reach all the beds in my front yard when they need watering. No more Jean de Florette hauling of water.  But can you guess what happened right after we got the hoses? Rain, rain, and more rain. Too funny! However, I am ready and well prepared for the next dry spell.

Second, Clif has come up with a graphic for my upcoming podcast of The Other Green Door. At some point, there will be a book, which will include several stories, and this graphic will be used for the cover as well.

And, third: More music. Ólafur Arnalds’s tiny desk concert is the polar opposite of the one I shared last week of Rodrigo y Gabriela. The latter’s music is sheer joy and energy. Arnalds’s music is soulful, gentle, and melancholy even. Both types of music reflect aspects of the human condition, and what a good thing it is that we have such a diversity of musicians who capture these moods and emotions.

 

One Square Yard: Wednesday, July 1

Recently, I was invited to participate in a month-long July photo challenge—SquarePerspectives hosted by BeckyB from her blog The Life of B. The challenge is exactly what it sounds like: Rather than post photos with the usual rectangular cropping, the challenge is to post photos cropped square. So each Wednesday in July, I will be presenting a series of square photos from my own yard, which nowadays is the farthest I usually go. Hence the title, One Square Yard.

Perspective is a tricky thing. Some photos lend themselves to square cropping, others do not. But what fun to experiment with this perspective. Many thanks, Becky B!

To borrow the immortal words from Huey Lewis and the News, it’s hip to be square.

One Square Yard

Oh, My! A New Book & A Podcast in the Works

Last night the rain finally came, and what a wonderful thing to hear it dripping from the eaves. It was a perfect rain—not too driving—and I think we might have gotten at least an inch.  Rain is in the forecast for the next few days, and while I like a sunny day as much as the next person, I am grateful for the rain as we surely need it. June has been such a dry month.

Here are a couple of pictures of our rainy yard. (Or garden as my friends across the pond would say.)

Lots of green, as you can see, but as my blogging friend Quercus wisely noted, green is a color, too. Yes, it is.

I am happy to report that Clif and I rose to the strawberry challenge, which I mentioned in my previous post. That is, two quarts of very ripe strawberries that wouldn’t keep long. In two-and-a-half days, those strawberries were gone. Utterly delicious! A good example of what you can do when you put your mind to it.

July is going to be a busy month for me. In the fall, Out of Time, the third book in The Great Library Series, will be published. In the next week, I have to get details about the book to James at Bookfly Design for the cover.  As with any book, there is also lots of picky copy editing to do before Out of Time can be published.

In addition, Clif and I have been working on an exciting new project—Tales from The Other Green Door, a podcast that will air sometime in July or August. The Other Green Door is a spin-off from Out of Time, and it involves two elves, Jace Willowdale and her cousin Thirret Greenwood. They have come from New York City to Portland, Maine, to open a café called The Other Green Door. Jace and Thirret are hoping for a quiet life in this small city by the bay. But because Jace accumulates magical relics from Elferterre, a mysterious dimension, the quiet life eludes them.

Because of the book and the podcast and all the work I must do to get them ready, blog posts for the next month or two are likely to be brief, with maybe a few pictures and a few lines.

Onward, ho!

And stay tuned for the podcast cover.

 

 

 

Juneteenth and Hot Weather

In the United states, today is Juneteenth.  As someone who lives in one of the whitest states in the country, I hadn’t heard of Juneteenth until a few years ago. Here is a description from the New York Times:

On June 19, 1865, about two months after the Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox, Va., Union Gen. Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston, Texas, to inform enslaved African-Americans of their freedom and that the Civil War had ended. General Granger’s announcement put into effect the Emancipation Proclamation, which had been issued more than two and a half years earlier on Jan. 1, 1863, by President Abraham Lincoln.

The holiday received its name by combining June and 19. The day is also sometimes called “Juneteenth Independence Day,” “Freedom Day” or “Emancipation Day.”

In the days before electronic media, news traveled slowly. Hard to believe that it took two months for African-Americans in Galveston to learn that the Civil War had ended. But such was life in the mid-1800s, thus proving yet again that not everything about the good old days was good.

So happy Juneteenth! I hope all who celebrate will find a safe way to do so. In some states, it is a big day for cookouts and family reunions. (That ratty covid-19 just keeps taking.)

A little closer to home…Clif and I finally broke down and bought an air conditioner. We have lived in the woods for nearly forty years, and for most of that time, a fan in the attic pretty much did the trick. At night, when things cooled down, we would turn on the fan and all the hot air would be directed up and eventually out of the house.

But for the past ten years, summers in central Maine have become hotter and hotter. Once upon a time, our biggest worry for the Fourth of July was whether it would rain. Nowadays, it’s whether it will be such a blister of a day that we won’t be able to enjoy the yearly gathering we usually have. (Alas, not this year because of the aforementioned ratty covid-19.)

Last July we had thirteen days where the temperature was above 90° Fahrenheit. And here we are again, on June 18 with 90° weather. (We were there in May, too.) In what universe is it 90° in May and June in Maine? In this new universe of climate change, I guess.

Last August, when I went to get my hair cut, I told my hairdresser that we didn’t have air conditioning. I mentioned how hot and uncomfortable we had been in July.

My hairdresser said, “Laurie, it’s only going to get hotter as the years go by. You really should  consider buying an air conditioner.”

I agreed, and her words stuck with me.

So this year we did it. Here it is, and as Clif has noted, it looks like a maintenance droid out of Star Wars.

We decided to get a free-standing unit rather than one that goes in the window because we figured it would be easier to wheel this into a backroom and store it for the winter rather than heft a unit in and out of the window each spring and fall. It is also a heat pump and energy efficient, which means we might be using it for heat come spring and fall.

Yesterday, just in time to make us glad that we followed my hairdresser’s suggestion, I read in the Times that “Scientists Predict Scorching Temperatures to Last Through Summer.”

We will be ready with our air-conditioning droid.

 

On the Wall by My Desk

From time to time, I get cards from friends near and far. Usually, the cards have gone on the door of our refrigerator, where I seldom see them because most of the time I am working on my computer. Therefore, I decided to get a metal bulletin board to put on the wall by my desk. That way I could easily glance over at the cards and  admire them.

The bulletin board came in last week, and Clif put it up for me. When it comes to reading measurements, I am terrible at judging how big something is. This bulletin board was no exception, and it’s a little smaller than I would like. Clif suggested I get another one the same exact size and hang it above the current one. I just might do this.

In the meantime, the board is big enough for the four cards I have recently received and are very dear to me.

The one on the far left is from my blogging friend Jodie in honor of our dear dog Liam, who died two years ago. This card both made me smile and brought tears to my eyes.

The card just beneath it is from my blogging friend Jill. The picture was taken of a tree in front of her house. She wrote, “The pecans were just leafing out—they are the last to get leaves.” Such a lovely description.

Right beside the Liam card is a sweet, delicate water color by Dawn,  yet another blogging friend. On the back she wrote, “Enjoy the little oak.” I surely am.

Finally, the last card is a humorous one, sent to me by my long-time friend Dawna. Although the message is humorous and a reflection of how an everyday commodity became scarce during the early days of the coronavirus, the message inside was heartfelt: “Miss You!” We only live about five miles apart, but we have not seen each other for months. I miss her, too.

I, too, have been sending cards, pictures of flowers taken from my garden. I joke that I am sending flowers through the mail.

Now it is my turn for generosity. If you would like a flower from my garden, let me know in the comment section, and I will send you one, no matter where you live.

During this dark time, getting something lovely or funny is such a comfort.

 

Luck x 2=No Power Outage

As the title indicates, we were lucky yet again. The wind blew, but it did not  knock out our power.  In Central Maine, there were no widespread power outages. This storm was primarily a coastal storm, and that’s where most of the outages were. Sure hope they get their power back soon.

One thing the rain did is take away the snow. As a reminder, here is what the backyard looked like last Friday.

From a slightly different perspective, here is what the backyard looked like this morning.

In deference to the wind, I moved the chairs and set them against the house. The little glass table went downstairs. Out they will soon come.

Now, fingers crossed that Winter is really and truly gone and will allow Spring to show her pretty face. In Maine, Winter’s cold grip is long and is only released grudgingly.

But in the end, Spring always has her way.

Here Comes the Wind Again

Lately, the weather has been a little iffy, even by Maine standards. Last Thursday, we had a Nor’easter that dropped a foot to a foot and half of snow on the state. The snow was wet and heavy and caused such massive power outages that four days later, some people still don’t have electricity.

Now, a rain and wind storm is ripping up the Eastern Seaboard from the South. The forecast is for wind gusts up to fifty miles an hour, which will bring—wait for it—more power outages. Sigh.

By some miracle, we did not lose our power last Thursday. Can we have such luck twice? I am not counting on it, and I have been getting ready—lots of water water set aside, laundry done, the house well heated. The usual.

Yesterday, I made bread. That way, if the power goes out, we’ll have the consolation of fresh bread.

To put a hectic spin on things, two days ago, Clif slipped on the snow, fell, and sprained his ankle. It’s not a bad sprain, and the fall certainly could have been worse. Much worse. But he is hobbling around the house and can’t do much to help get ready.

Therefore, this will not be my usual Monday post with news about the pandemic posted at the end. Instead, a brief one as I have more to do to get ready for the wind and the rain.

Onward and upward! See you on the other side.

 

Something Approaching Normal

Slowly, slowly, my schedule is returning to something approaching normal.  I have resumed posting three times a week and am working on Book Four of the Great Library Series. (No title yet. It might be Library Regained. It might be something else. It all depends on how many Maya books I write.)

It helps that spring has come to our home in the woods. Yesterday, Clif and I put on our jackets and had tea on the patio. The temperature was 50°, but it felt fine to be sitting there.

Sherlock joined us. That chair was set out especially for him. Unfortunately, it seems that felines can contract covid-19. Even though we live in the woods, we do have neighbors, and we might have to keep the cats in this summer. Blogging friends, any thoughts about this?

On a happier note, there are lots of green shoots in the garden.

And I  was able to get a picture of this handsome goldfinch, whose feathers are returning to summer yellow.

But sadness is never very far away. As we sat and had tea, I thought of our daughter in Brooklyn who is confined to a small apartment that is somewhere between 500 to 600 square feet. Dee hasn’t been outside for two weeks or so. She doesn’t complain—that is not her way—but when I asked her how she was doing, Dee did mention that she wished she had a small yard so that she could go out on nice days.

What I wish is that Dee were right here with us, and then she could join us on the patio and watch the fluttering beauties that come to our yard.

Alas, the time for that has passed, and Dee will have to hunker down in her small apartment until the worst is over.

 

Coronavirus News from Maine

From my very own town of Winthrop

Charlie Gove, 90, continues to volunteer at the Food Pantry.  For over 14 years, I volunteered with this fine man. If you click on the link, it will take you to the Facebook page with the article. If you click on the article, it will enlarge, and you will be able to read the piece.

From Maine CDC

Maine’s number of cases of the coronavirus: 499

Deaths in Maine from Covid-19: 10

The News from All Over

From Mother Nature Network

This piece by Christian Controneo about greenhouse gases surely falls under the category of it’s an ill wind that blows no good.

We’re poised to see carbon dioxide emissions plummet to levels last experienced around World War II. That’s according to the Global Carbon Project, a network of emissions experts, earth scientists and economists, that tracks greenhouse gasses and advises policymakers on the issue.

From Dr. Sanjay Gupta

Another bit of good news.

As the US heads towards the peak, Europe’s numbers offer some hope. Fatalities and infections seem to be slowing in Italy, Spain and France, among the hardest-hit countries on the continent — and in the world.

And wise words from Queen Elizabeth

I hope in the years to come everyone will be able to take pride in how they responded to this challenge.

The Latest Numbers

Global Cases: 1,280,046

Global Deaths69,789

My own take: Queen Elizabeth knows a thing or two about how a country can suffer. I am specifically thinking about World War II and her own exemplary service, in which she should take a great deal of pride.

There Is No Them, Only Us

I am a fifth-generation Mainer on my mother’s side, descended from French Canadians who came to Maine in the mid-1800s. Many of them had dark hair and olive complexions. They were all Catholic and spoke French. (My own mother did not speak English until she was six.) My ancestors were part of a larger French-Canadian migration that spread out through New England as well as to other parts of the country.

I would like to be able to report that these hard-working French Canadians were eagerly welcomed to Maine, but I cannot. Our story is a sad familiar story of prejudice and discrimination. In 1889, according to the British-American Citizen (Boston), we were  considered to be “a distinct alien race.”

This xenophobic attitude continued to trickle down even to the 1960s. As a small child, I was keenly aware of an “us vs. them” attitude in Maine, with we Franco-Americans being “them,” and the Yankee population being “us.” It was understood that “them” did not really belong in Maine, while “us” somehow had a magical right to be here.

Merriam-Webster defines xenophobia as “fear and hatred of strangers or foreigners or of anything that is strange or foreign.” Because of my experience, I have an intense aversion to anything that smacks of xenophobia.

For example, this incident on Vinalhaven, an island off the Maine coast, where according to the Kennebec Journal,

an armed group of residents cut down a tree to block access to a road to keep three people from leaving their home on Cripple Creek Road.

Deputies investigated and learned there was a general belief by some island residents that the Cripple Creek residents were supposed to be quarantined because they came here from another state and could have COVID-19.

Deputies learned that the trio had been residing on Vinalhaven for about 30 days, which is outside of the guidance issued by state officials, and none have any symptoms consistent with the coronavirus.

Uh-huh.

And then on Facebook, an acquaintance shared this gem: “STAY HOME…Do Not Come to Maine. It’s just Not Fair. Go back where you came from and kill your Own People!”

As it happens, three of my “own people” live out of state.

While I completely agree that folks should hunker down and stay in place, I so object to the wording of the above sentiment. I made this clear to the person who shared it. Unfortunately, as is so often the case on Facebook, that person was unrepentant.

As the coronavirus rips around the world, hitting country after country, the high and mighty and the low, it is clear to me there is no them.

Only us.

 

Coronavirus News from Maine

From Maine CDC

Maine’s number of cases of the coronavirus: 275

Deaths in Maine from Covid-19: 3

The News from All Over

From Mother Nature Network

Does it seem like time has slowed to a crawl since you’ve been holed up in your apartment, riding out this pandemic? Well, time marches on all right — to the same beat it’s always kept. But these days, your brain may be processing time a little differently. In fact, according to David Eagleman, one of the world’s foremost neuroscientists, your brain tends to slow things down when you’re under extreme stress.

From CNN

“Nothing would be worse than declaring victory before the victory is won.” President Donald Trump, who repeatedly suggested last week that a win was near, announced yesterday that nationwide social distancing measures would be extended for another month, days after floating the possibility of getting Americans back to work as early as Easter (which is when deaths are currently projected to peak).

The Latest Numbers

Global Cases: 732,153

Global Deaths: 34,686

My take: I’ve already written enough.