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!
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.
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.
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 MaineInternational 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.
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.
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.
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 Threadfor 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 sealIn the backyard, the garden abutting the patio
Finally, spring has arrived in Maine. The air is warm but not too hot. The perennials in my gardens are coming up green and strong. When the day is fine, out I go to clear my beds of leaves and other debris and then spread rich black compost on them. This will be followed by some organic fertilizer.
Longtime readers know how much I love winter—I’m a northern woman, after all—but when spring finally arrives, I am absolutely smitten by this lovely time of year, despite all the work it brings. Maybe because of all the work it brings.
Also, while I still have creaky knees, they have improved by quite a bit. (I was on medication that unfortunately affected my joints. I am no longer taking that medication.) Clif is willing to help with the wheelbarrow and fetching bags of compost from the local feed store. Between the two of us, we are making good progress with the yard and gardens.
But spring in Maine is brief, and I have one month to get things sorted in my gardens. Therefore the time has come to take my yearly break while I garden as fast as my sixty-seven-year-old body will allow. I will keep up with blog reading as best I can. If we have a rainy spell—pray God we don’t—I’ll post a brief piece.
But until June, my posts will be far and few between.
Happy spring to all who live in the northern hemisphere, and happy fall to those who live in the southern hemisphere.
Hummingbirds have been spotted in Maine. I will be ordering another red feeder for the other side.
Today, I am taking a break from Politics Friday. I have a bad cold—as do Clif and Dee—and my head is too muzzy to write about anything. I will be back next week.
This week is going to be a little topsy-turvy. Instead of politics Friday, here’s a politics Monday. The reason for this is that last weekend, all across the country, there were massive protests against the Trump Administration and all the horrible things it has done. It seemed best to feature one of the protests while the memory of the weekend is still fresh.
As far as I know, the protests were completely peaceful. No fights, no looting. Little Maine valiantly did its part. In Augusta, the state capital, an estimated 4,000 people showed up. Not too shabby for a small city with a population of about 18,000. Unfortunately, because of my creaky knees, I didn’t attend. (I am thinking of getting a cane with a seat so that I can join future protests.) However, my friend Beth Clark and her husband John were there. She generously agreed to write a description of the event and gave me permission to use her photos. Many thanks, Beth!
Beth wrote:
“As much as I wanted to go to Saturday’s protest at the state capital, we had been told that an earlier rally had credible threats of possible trouble. I listened to an ACLU Zoom about knowing your rights in a protest and ways to safeguard yourself. I even wrote my daughters’ phone numbers on my arm, in permanent ink, in case my phone or personal effects were taken away.
“I am happy to report that none of my angst was necessary. Everyone present was polite, supportive, and willing to help out. The band played, and people sang “God Bless America” and the “Star Spangled Banner.” Participants chanted, “This is what Democracy looks like” and “Hands off our…”.
“John and I were surrounded by seniors. Some had walkers, wheelchairs, or canes. Others appeared feeble and had loved ones supporting them. As we watched a stream of protesters, we were heartened to see many young adults in the crowd. There were children marching with parents and grandparents, and three generation families were visible.
“Posters illustrated well the diversity and scope of the government actions that were being protested. They were variously humorous, angry, artistic, ironic, or simple.
“The day was cold, but warmth spread through the audience as eloquent speakers, without name calling or blame, identified the issues at hand and the need for change. The fact that an older Palestinian man and a young Jewish woman co-presented illustrates the desire for open communication and cooperation. As the protesters took to the street in an orderly fashion, the passing cars honked, waved, and gave thumbs up. I was glad I participated and that it was truly a peaceful protest. I came away feeling supported, appreciated, and mobilized to do more.”
Finally, here is a video from YouTube that expands on what Beth wrote. You’ve got love a protest that includes horns and drums.
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Notes From the Hinterland 