At the little house in the big woods, whatever the season, the backyard is aflutter with birds, and it gives me great joy to watch them as they flit from the trees to the bird feeder. Finches, woodpeckers, chickadees, nuthatches, and many other birds come to eat. Our friends Beth and John are just as crazy about birds as we are, and last year on a warm spring day, we spent a happy afternoon on the patio, watching the birds.

In the winter, of course, I watch from inside, often as I am doing dishes. Winter is a hungry time for birds, and there are always a lot clustered at the feeders.

The other day, as I was watching the birds in the backyard, I remembered the time I freed the birds at Woolworth’s in Waterville. I was three or four years old, and in those far-gone, innocent times, I was allowed to look at the toys and the pet section by myself while my mother did her shopping. I was a quiet child. not prone to running around and screaming and breaking things. My mother felt as though she could trust me, but you know what they say about the quiet ones.

On the day I set the birds free, I watched the bright fish swim in their tanks and listened to the bubbling sound that came from the water. I admired the silky hamsters, curled in a ball, their little noses twitching from time to time. Then I came to the birds, tweeting and jumping in their cages. I remember feeling sorry for them, trapped in such a small space.

Without hesitation, I undid the latch of one the cages and opened the door. With a swoosh, the birds flew from the cage, and their quick motion startled me, making me realize that what I had done was probably not a good thing, at least from the store’s point of view.

I found my mother, but I didn’t tell her about the birds until we were at the lunch counter, and two parakeets went by.

“Look at those parakeets,” my mother said. “I wonder who let them out.”

I confessed right away. “I let the birds out.”

“Shush,” she said, and I could see that she was trying not to smile.

Our food came, and as we ate, birds flew over our heads, and I could hear them twittering. No doubt they were eventually caught and returned to their cages. But for a short time, anyway, they had escaped their confinement and did what birds are born to do—fly.

When we got home, my mother scolded me, just a little, telling me I was never to let the birds out again, and I didn’t. But to this day, I  see my younger self and my quick little fingers, unlatching the cage door and letting the birds fly free.

And it still makes me smile to think of it.

Well, here it is. The post you’ve all been waiting for—an update on the workings of the oven in my new electric stove. I wish I had good news to report, but I do not.

A week or so ago, two men from Dave’s Appliance came to test the oven. As far as their readings were concerned, nothing was amiss, but they turned down the oven’s electronic setting by ten degrees. In talking with them, we also learned several facts.

First, our complaint is not uncommon, and they have had to go many homes with new electric stoves. One irate customer even produced a burnt loaf of banana bread as proof of her oven’s erratic temperature. Second, new ovens don’t heat the way they once did. In the old days, say the 1990s, the temperature was controlled by a mercury thermostat. We all know that mercury is toxic, but it sure did a good job of regulating an oven’s temperature. Nowadays, ovens use an electronic-based thermostat, and at least in low to mid-priced stoves, these thermostats have huge swings where they overshoot the temperature by a lot and then cool back down. (Hence burnt banana bread and cookies.) To make matters even worse, the oven announces it is up to temperature when in fact it isn’t. The men from Dave’s recommend preheating the oven for twenty minutes.

The final cherry on the sundae is that the men from Dave’s told us that we could spend three times what we spent on our stove and still have the same problem. After they left, Clif did some research online, and the information he found confirmed what we had been told.

Clif turned our oven’s setting down another twenty degrees, and I made a batch of biscuits to test the new settings. Now, I am rather proud of my biscuit-making abilities. Usually, they are light and fluffy through and through. However, with the new oven, even with the lower settings, the bottoms were not burnt, but they were hard and crunchy, not what I want for biscuits.

Yesterday, I spoke with the folks at Dave’s and told them about my oven woes. I was assured that I could return the stove and just pay the difference if we bought a more expensive one. However, because of what we have learned about modern ovens, I am reluctant to do this. We could spend more and still have the same problem.

So here is what we are considering—a large convection toaster oven, one big enough for pies and pizza and even a 9 x 11 pan. My daughter has a toaster oven she swears by, and she sent me a link to Bon Appétit’s glowing review of a Hamilton Beach Easy Reach Convection Oven (model #31126). According to Bon Appetit, the Hamilton Beach is not only very affordable—$70—but bakes like a champ. And at the little house in the big woods, we do a lot of baking.

In retrospect, I’m not sure what we would have done if we had known ahead of time about the foibles of low-to-mid-range priced modern electric ovens.  Waited until we had enough money for a much more expensive one? Installed a gas stove, which has a more responsive heat?  (Unfortunately, we would have to pay a significant fee to have it hooked up, and we have a budget as big as a minute.)  Held on to the old one, keeping our fingers crossed that the door didn’t just give out entirely in the middle of a batch of cookies?

Here is a lesson we have definitely learned: The next time we buy an appliance, we will be sure to research the hell out of what we are buying.  We will not assume that the new model will be as good as the old model, even though it is from the same manufacturer. (Our old stove was a Whirlpool, our new stove is a Whirlpool, and Clif feels as though we’ve been sucked down a whirlpool.)

Onward and upward!

Thanksgiving is over—and a lovely one it was. We stuffed ourselves silly, talked about movies, cooking, and other things, and gave thanks to all the good things in our lives.

Now, it’s on to the next event. This Saturday (November 28), Clif and I—a la Hinterland Photography—will be at the Mount Vernon Holiday Arts & Craft Fair, from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. We’ll be selling cards, prints, and calendars. If you’re in the area, please stop by and say hello!

Tomorrow is Halloween. Once upon a time at the little house in the big woods, we had lots of small ghosties and ghoulies come trick-or-treating. What fun it was! Clif often dressed in a long, black wizard’s robe as he passed out the candy, which filled a large wooden bowl that we set on the buffet by the side door. (In Maine, nobody uses the front door, and we are no exception.)

One year on a fine Halloween, Clif rigged up speakers that blared spooky music in the woods.  He also hung up “ghosts” in the trees, and they swayed back and forth in the breezy night. This was certainly a big hit with the trick-or-treaters.

But as our children grew,  and our friends’ children, too, the stream of trick-or-treaters slowed to a trickle and then dried up entirely. Every year, we turn on the porch light and have a bowl of candy ready, but no one comes. It makes us sad, but we understand. We do not live in a neighborhood, and nowadays, we don’t know many families with small children. (This, ahem, forces us to eat a lot of candy.)

As a child, I absolutely adored Halloween. Few parents made their children costumes, at least in the country village I lived in. We mostly had off-the-rack costumes that came with those plastics masks that made a child’s face sweaty even on the chilliest night.

Never mind! It was still a magical night. Off we would go with our little plastic pumpkins—the more ambitious trick-or-treaters carried pillow cases.  Our  village was so safe that we were allowed to go alone, with younger brothers and sisters and tow. We prowled the dark streets, stopping at every lighted house, and indeed nearly every house was lighted for us. Once in a while we would get the dreaded box of raisins, but mostly the adults understood that what we wanted was candy, and candy is what they gave us.

At home, my brother and I would empty our candy on the floor so that we could examine our loot. Usually we got the snack-size packages of Pom-Poms, Butter Fingers, and other goodies. But every once in a while some generous adult would give a full-size candy bar, and that was always a cause for celebration.  Then the bargaining would begin as my brother and I would trade the candy that we didn’t like. (Candy I didn’t like? Was that possible? When did I ever encounter candy I didn’t like? I suspect the trading was mostly instigated by my brother, who doesn’t have a sweet tooth and thus received candy that he wasn’t fond of.)

After the trading, I would have a glorious stash of candy, which I kept in my bedroom, where I could dip into it whenever I wanted without having to ask permission.  Such delicious freedom, and it only came once a year.

Well, no more trick-or-treating, no more trick-or-treaters. But we do have a few Halloween frogs to cheer us up. I’ve collected them from my gardens and have arrayed them on the porch along with leaves and little pumpkins.

A happy halloween to all! If you are lucky enough to have little ghosties and ghoulies in your life, then I hope they receive many sweet treats.

Today, I am going to toot my own horn. Clif and I are launching a photography website called—ta-da!—Hinterland Photography, where we are selling cards and prints.

Here is a blurb from the website that describes who we are and what we like to photograph:

“We—Clif and Laurie Graves—are a husband and wife team. Clif has been taking pictures since he was a young man, and he has many, many years of experience in graphic arts. He has designed posters for local businesses, and his photographs have appeared in Maine magazines and on websites. Laurie is newer to photography, but she has had the benefit of living with an accomplished photographer and learning from him.

We live on the edge of things, and we like it that way. Our photographs reflect this sensibility, and indeed most of our pictures were taken in central Maine, which is not exactly on the beaten track. We love the woods, flowers, trees, lakes, and nature in general. On rare occasions, we venture to the Maine coast, but most of our photographs were taken in Winthrop, the town where we live. Indeed many of them were taken in our very own yard. Our pictures capture the quiet beauty of central Maine, of a rural town and the surrounding woods and lakes, and the progression of the seasons.”

Here are some examples of cards and prints we are selling:

As the photos show, we go from winter to summer. (However, it seems to me that flower cards can be sent any time of year.) We also feature Maine images and library cards. We will soon be offering fall cards as well as a special section with photos that are an homage to Georgia O’Keeffe.

So if you like what you see, then please spread the word. And perhaps buy a card or a print?

Our vacation is over. Yesterday, we dropped off Dee at the bus station and bid her a sad farewell. We had a busy but oh-so-fun week, culminating with a Saturday trip to Rockland, which is on the Maine coast.

Once upon a time, say, when I was young, Rockland was what you might call a gritty place—my mother actually called it “tough.” There was a sardine factory right in town, and the harbor was a working waterfront. But then the factory closed, as so many did in Maine, and as an entry in Wikipedia puts it, “Since the early 1990s, Rockland has seen a shift in its economy away from fishery and toward a service center city.” In other words, Rockland had to reinvent itself.

Being on a lovely harbor helped. A lot. Those from away, as we Mainers call non-natives, were drawn by the area’s natural beauty, and many of those who settled in Rockland are affluent. The same is true for a lot of the tourists who come to visit.

Since the 1940s, the town has been anchored by the Farnsworth Art Museum, and gradually, over the years, art galleries followed. So Rockland went from being a gritty place to being an arty town, which, like so many things, has its pluses and minuses.

But in this post, I am not going to get into the pluses and minuses of what happens when a working-class town becomes arty. Instead, I’m going to share some pictures I took of the town and the lovely harbor. I do want to note that we saw a broad range of first-rate—albeit expensive—art. Yes, there were seascapes, but there were also abstract art, minimalism, and everything in between.

Here are some photos of Rockland.

Now it’s back to work as I try to catch up on all the things that were put on hold while Dee was here. (Library minutes, here I come!)

I follow a delightful blog called Mrs. Walker’s Art and Illustrations, where Johanna, who is originally from the Netherlands, writes about the beauty of everyday things. She is an artist, and she often features her own illustrations, which are both whimsical and down-to-earth, an utterly charming combination. Johanna also knits, and recently she featured three give-aways on her blog—a hat, a tea cozy, and a blue shawl.

As soon as I read her post, I knew I wanted to feature my own give-away. Like Johanna, I believe that it is good to give, and in everyday life, I make it a habit to give regularly. Our modest budget does not allow for extravagant giving, but I frequently give photo cards and baked goodies to friends and acquaintances. We also invite friends over for gatherings, which I view as another form of giving.

I must admit that I do not always find it easy to give. When money is tight, it is difficult to think of others. When I am busy, I often don’t want to take the time to give to others. But I give anyway because I think it is good spiritual practice.

In the end, to let go and to give is always worthwhile.

So here is my give-away: Three sets of three library cards—your choice of cards. My husband Clif took the pictures in our own dear Bailey Library. I found the quotations and paired them with the pictures.

In the comments’ section, all  you have to do is tell me you want to enter the contest and which three cards you would like.  The drawing will be held on August 10.

Here are the pictures for the cards:

A final note, which qualifies as the cherry on the sundae: I won the beautiful hat that Johanna knitted, and I am so pleased. I don’t have many hats, and Johanna’s hat will be a most welcome addition. Maine has lots of cold weather, and when I wear that hat, I will think of Johanna and her generosity.