Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Screen house, Champlain Chocolates, and Music

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This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who often complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.

Our Screen House

In late spring, our daughter Dee clicked on an article with the title Ten Items That Will Really Make Your Summer Better. Or something like that. Dee was skeptical about what would be listed, but because she loves summer, she figured, what the heck. Why not click on the article?

As it turned out, Dee found something she liked, a screen house that fits over an umbrella. Dee is quite the mosquito magnet; for some reason they are just drawn to her.  She figured that a screen house would give her some protection, allowing us to sit on the patio in late afternoon when those little biters come out from the woods. Best of all, the screen house only cost $50.

I’m happy to report that the screen house has been a smashing success. Clif had a wee bit of trouble attaching it to the umbrella, and he might have said a few bad words. But in the end he succeeded, and what a wonder that screen house has been.

This summer, with all the rain and humidity, the mosquitos have been out in full force, but in the screen house, we were safe from attack. The screen house has become a second living room, where we have drinks and meals and can stay outside as late as we want.

Best $50 Dee ever spent.

This photo gives a good sense of how our backyard snugs up against the woods.

 

Lake Champlain Chocolates

Vermont is home to Lake Champlain Chocolates, which are utterly delicious. Our daughter Shannon and her husband Mike went to Vermont last week, where they visited the Lake Champlain Chocolate mother store. And they just happened to bring us back some chocolates.

Confession time: the path to my heart is paved with lovely chocolate, and wowsah, those chocolates were wicked good!

Music, Always Music: I’m With Her

Yet again, from NPR and their Tiny Desk Concerts. I accidentally came upon I’m With Her on YouTube, which loves to give me music suggestions based on what I’ve listened to. More often than not, YouTube hits the mark, and they certainly did with I’m With Her.

Not only are the three young women luminous performers, but their clear voices blend beautifully, and they play with snap and style.

More Thankful Thursdays

As more of my blogging friends are posting Thankful Thursday pieces, Thursday is fast becoming my favorite day of the week. On her recent Thankful Thursday post, my blogging friend Ju-lyn, of Touring My Backyard, linked to other blogging friends who had their own Thankful Thursday pieces. I have decided to follow suit. When I mentioned I would be borrowing her idea, Ju-Lyn noted, “like minds are we.” Yes we are.

Read and smile! In the comments, feel free to list what you are thankful for.

Touring My Backyard: Tea Time

50 Happens: Thankful Thursday

Musings by an ND Domer’s Mom: Thankful Thursday (4)

Cimple: Thankful Thursday

Movies, summer

Late Summer on Our One Acre; And a Movie Review of Ballad of a Soldier

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We have a little piece of land, one acre, on the edge of the woods. Those woods are part of a watershed of 2,729 acres—over 4 square miles—that drains to the Upper Narrows Pond, and this means they are safe from development. In the woods are many wild animals, including foxes, deer, porcupines, bears, fishers, raccoons, coyotes, and skunks. (I know that people need homes, but so do wild creatures. Getting the mix right is often difficult.)

One acre compared to 2, 729 isn’t very much, but at times it seems like the world to me, always changing, never static, variable with each season.  Our home, the driveway, lawn, and gardens all sit on this one acre. When I was younger, I would have liked more land to grow more food. But nowadays, with my creaky knees, our one acre seems exactly right: big enough for some gardens, enough space for our patio, close enough to the road, but not too close.

And what is mid-August bringing to our acre by the woods?

First of all, mushrooms. The opening picture is a close-up of them, and they remind me of little pancakes. When the focus is farther out, not so much. And note how green the grass is. This summer, we have had a perfect amount of rain, enough to keep things green and growing, but not too much to make things soggy and rotten.

The bee balm has passed, and I like the way the seed head looks against this hydrangea, which is starting to pass.

Bee balm doesn’t exactly thrive in my back garden, and I think this plant, normally a spreader, doesn’t get enough sun. I’m thinking of planting more hydrangeas in its place, but the hummingbirds love what does grow, and I like the bee balm’s splash of red, however thin. We shall see.

My own tomatoes are beginning to ripen, and yesterday I used a few in a sandwich. Because I was feeling bold, I also added some cucumbers. As my Yankee husband would say, pretty darned good.

Even though it’s still August, there are signs that fall is just around the corner.

And who is this in our backyard? Why, it’s the divine Miss Holly.

She belongs to our daughter Shannon and our son-in-law Mike, and we took care of Holly while they celebrated their fourteenth wedding anniversary in Vermont. (Happy, happy!)

Our backyard, completely fenced in, is perfect for dogs. Holly had a fun weekend of lots of treats as well as sniffing and patrolling the backyard. She’s wonderful company, bright and alert. Shannon and Mike picked her up yesterday, and we miss her.

There are still more weeks of August before we edge into September. More time for sitting on the patio by the edge of the deep green woods as we listen to the finches, the nuthatches, the chickadees, and the occasional haunting call of the bard barred owl.

*****************************************************************

Watching: World Cinema

From the Janus Collection

Ballad of a Soldier, 1959
Directed by Grigory Chukhray

Warning: this review contains minor spoilers

Ballad of a Soldier, a Russian film set in World War II, came out at a propitious time, a few years after Stalin died, when there was a period of thaw during Khrushchev’s regime. This thaw gave Russian filmmakers a little more latitude, a chance to focus on the individual rather than the collective.

And focus director Grigory Chukhray certainly did, on beautiful nineteen-year-old Private Alyosha Skvortsov (Vladimir Ivashov). For his bravery in battle, Alyosha has been given a six-day leave to go home to visit his mother.

Two things get in Alyosha’s way: the chaos of war, which extends well into Russia, away from the front line, and Alyosha’s tendency to get sidetracked.

First he helps a wounded veteran, then he meets a lovely young woman, Shura (Zhanna Prokhorenko). Mishaps ensue. Alyosha misses a train as he goes to get water. He delivers a bar of soap to a soldier’s family, which delays him further. Hitchhiking and muddy roads slow him down even more. On a more serious note, the bombing of a train brings panic and death.

In one sense, this could be the story of any soldier in any war, but in another sense, this is the story of Alyosha, a nineteen-year-old who is easily distracted as young men (and women) often are.

Does Alyosha make it home to see his mother? I am not going spoil the ending. This movie, directed by a great humanist, is very much worth seeing and is available on Amazon to rent or buy. It is also available on Turner Movie Classics.

Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Car Inspection, Strawberries, Farmer Kev’s Corn

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This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who tend to complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.

This week, on the very top of the thankful list, is that our car,  a Honda Fit, passed inspection. When you have a budget as big as a minute and a fourteen-year-old car, this is no small thing.

A few months ago, we had to have the catalytic converter replaced. I barely know what a catalytic converter is, but I do know it was  expensive to replace. Still, the Fit has been a wonderful car, roomy for its size and needing few repairs. We plan to keep it as long as we can. Clif has patched some rust holes—those salted and sanded roads in the winter take their toll—and now that the Fit has passed inspection, it should be good for another year. Fingers crossed. And toes, too.

Next is an unexpected treat that came to our house on Tuesday.

Debbie Gagnon, of Maine’s famous Red’s Eats, sent the chocolate-covered strawberries as a thank you to Clif for the work he did on her book, Red’s Eats: World’s Best Lobster Shack. (Clif does book design for self-published writers, and he has a growing list of books he’s worked on.) Clif, of course, shared his strawberries with me and Dee, and my oh my, they were good. Strawberries and chocolate are a winning combination. Many, many thanks, Debbie Gagnon!

Finally, it is that corn time of year in Maine, and Mainers are absolutely crazy about fresh corn on the cob. We think it goes with anything, from spaghetti to quesadillas.

Our corn comes from our own Farmer Kev, a family friend who has an organic farm and a delivery share program, where each season, you pay a lump sum and get weeks of fresh, delicious vegetables delivered right to your doorstep. (Every week, we get to choose what we want from a seasonal list.)

Here is the snappy box the veggies come in.

And guess what was underneath the carrots, the peppers, and the summer squash? None other than corn, fresh and ready to be shucked.

We cooked it the day we got it, and how sweet it was. Holy cats, it was so unbelievably good that it almost doesn’t count as a simple pleasure.

And what is on the plate with that corn? Just happens to be a quesadilla, made with homemade refried beans.

As we Mainers would say, a wicked good combination.

Just for Fun: Speaking of a New England Accent…

Blogging friends who are Superbowl fans are probably already familiar with this commercial, but I’m guessing there are some blogging friends who haven’t seen it. And I’m also guessing that blogging friends “from away” might not know what a New England accent sounds like.

Now, the commercial below features actors and accents—albeit slightly exaggerated—from Boston. A Maine accent is somewhat different, a little softer. But man oh man, do we ever drop those Rs, and do note the use of “wicked.”

Anyway, it will give readers some idea what a Maine and New England accent sounds like. Plus it’s just plain fun to watch. Makes me smile every time.

 

 

Art, Movies, Nature

To See: The Art of Noticing

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To see takes time…
—Georgia O’Keefe

Seeing is one of my obsessions. Not in the strict sense—although I place a high value on my vision—but rather in a more intuitive, artistic sense, to notice and to explore what is not always apparent.

All around my yard, there are creatures living their own lives, trying to get by in a world both hostile and abundant. Often they remain hidden, but sometimes I catch glimpses of them.

This little toad at the edge of my patio,

a grasshopper on what looks like a ripple of water but is really the top of our outside table,

and a tiny moth (I think) resting on a sage leaf.

Then there is this mouse, one of many who thinks inside is better than outside. Can’t say I blame the little rodents, but my thinking is opposite. Over the years we have trapped hundreds of mice, releasing them in a field far from here and with no homes in sight.

 

Even in a place that doesn’t seem to support nature, these birds make their home near this parking lot.

Nature—in other words, life—is all around us, if we take the time to notice. And to borrow from the writer Verlyn Klinkenborg, in the pattern of noticing lies the art.

**********************************************************************

Watching: Movies
Museum Hours (2012)
Directed by Jem Cohen

Museum Hours seems to run tangent to what I just wrote about noticing the world around us. Much of the film takes place in Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum, where a museum guard, Johann (Bobby Sommer), befriends a woman named Anne (Mary Margaret O’Hara) who has come to Vienna to be with an ailing relative. Through their love of art, Johann and Anne form a bond (platonic), and they explore their past and present using various paintings as a springboard.

In Museum Hours, art is not a series of static pieces unrelated to life. Instead, art is about life, where the artist looked and noticed and captured something essential.  Museum Hours is one of the most illuminating movies about art that I have ever seen, and its ending moved me to tears: Art is around you in everyday life. All you have to do is look.

However, this is a movie that requires patience and attention. Museum Hours is so leisurely that even some of my indie-film-viewing friends found it, ahem, a little slow.

However, for those whose have the patience, Museum Hours is such a rewarding movie.

 

Flowers, Food, Music, Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Flowers, Food, and Music

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This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who tend to complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.

The last two Thankful Thursdays featured really big pleasures, a new driveway and a new electric car. It was the most excitement that has come to our home by the woods in a long time.

However, most of our pleasures are much more simple, and that’s the way it should be. Big pleasures only come around every so often, and if they were the only pleasures that made us happy, then our lives would be very glum indeed. But, I am happy to report that we are a family that thrives on simple pleasures, and in that way we are rich. Our lives are filled with so many simple pleasures that it is hard to chose which ones to feature.

This week I have narrowed it down to three.

The first is this wonderful hydrangea, a gift from my blogging friend Judy of NewEnglandGardenAndThread.

In June of 2023 Judy and I actually had a chance to meet in person. Not only did we have a wonderful time getting to know each other, but she also gave some hydrangea plants from her garden.

Longtime readers will know that I have one of the finickiest yards in Maine in which to garden. Lots of shade, much of it dry, and at the best only part sun/part shade in the backyard. I have lost more plants than I care to remember. But Judy assured me that hydrangeas like some shade, and with a hope and a prayer, I planted them last summer.

Glory be! Not only did they come up in the spring, but they actually bloomed this summer. I am thrilled to have these beauties in my garden. Judy, many, many thanks.

My second pleasure is another one that comes only in the summer, tomato sandwiches made with local ripe tomatoes.

These tomatoes come from Farmer Kev, and they are just as sweet as sweet can be.

I know there is some controversy over the proper way to make tomato sandwiches. Some like white bread, untoasted. Some prefer to have cheese along with theirs. Others want an open-faced sandwich. My take? Have them whichever way you like. Simple pleasures are personal. One size does not fit all.

Here is how I like mine: I use two pieces of Dave’s Killer Bread, 21 Whole Grains and Seeds. Then I toast the bread, spread a little mayonnaise on one slice, put tomatoes on the other, and finish it with a dash of salt. Oh, the joy.

My third pleasure comes from another blog I follow, Cimple, and one of the items on her Thankful Thursday list:  “On the Nature of Daylight,” a song by Max Richter. I was so moved by it that I had to feature the song on my blog.

I just happened to find “On the Nature of Daylight” along with some other songs when Richter was featured on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert. “On the Nature of Daylight” is the first song that he plays.

This music makes me want to weep and be thankful at the same time. The language of music is powerful and mysterious. It is one of the best parts of us, and I am ever so thankful for the composers and musicians that bring such beauty to the world.

Flowers, summer

All Part of the Continuum

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As I sit here typing this post, it is the sweetest summer morning in Maine that anyone could ask for. The air is warm and dry. Next door, a hen clucks as she lays an egg. The grasshoppers buzz an August song. By my desk, the window is open, and a soft breeze, which rustles the leaves on the trees, comes in.

Quite a change from last week, which once again flipped to high humidity and high temps. There was another heat advisory, and we had to stay inside, cooled by our trusty air conditioner, Eva. On Friday, our friend Joel came over for drinks and appetizers, and it was too humid and hot to sit on the patio. Instead we had to gather in the living room, made comfortable by Eva.

But today, all is forgiven. If I were in charge, I would order 26 more days just like this one, with enough rain thrown in at night to water the plants. Like Goldilocks, I always want things to be just right.

Outside, the plants have thrived in the heat and humidity. Even though my gardens are at their best in June and July, there are still some things to admire.

This striking double daylily,

a modest but lovely hosta blossom,

and a delicate single daylily. I can’t decide whether its color is peach or salmon. I’m tending toward peach.

Because this is not thankful Thursday, I’m going to gripe just a little about the damage done to my hostas by slugs and snails

With all the rain and humidity, it’s been a good year for those slimy little nibblers. Time was when I did my best to keep the slugs and snails at bay, and I would patrol the yard with a jar of soapy water to drop them in. But in my old age, I have given up what seemed like a futile battle. No matter how many slugs and snails I caught, more would come. Fortunately, all that chewing doesn’t cause permanent damage. Still, I wish the slugs and snails would stay in the woods and find their meals elsewhere.

On the other hand, there are some visitors we don’t mind. One night, before going to bed, when I shut off Eva and opened the windows, I spied this little creature clinging to the screen. Attracted by the light, I suppose. Or rather, after some insect that was attracted by the light. By morning, our little visitor was gone.

When you live by the edge of the woods, you know you are going to share your yard with other creatures. Some you enjoy. Others not so much. But this morning as I watched some crow fledglings pester their parent for food, I thought about how we are all part of the continuum, the rich web of life in northern New England.

 

 

 

Environment, Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Electric, At Last!

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This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who tend to complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.

On last week’s Thankful Thursday’s post, my first one, I started with a humdinger—a new driveway and steps. As someone whose life is mostly filled with small, simple pleasures, I didn’t think it would be possible to top this. But, holy cats, was I ever wrong!

Last Friday, after over a month of waiting, our daughter Dee’s new electric car, a Tesla Y, was delivered to our home by the woods. (Tesla sells directly, and because there are no service centers in Maine, this one was shipped from New Jersey.)

Isn’t it a beauty? And isn’t it great that our new driveway was ready to welcome the new car?

Obviously, an electric car needs a charger, and we had one ready and waiting.

Now, this is Dee’s car, not ours, but she will be staying with us for a few more years while she saves money to buy a house. This means we will get the benefit of her electric car when we drive here, there, and everywhere. (Actually, we don’t go too far, and the car’s 320 miles per charge will be just fine for us.)

For dirty trips to, say, the transfer station (formerly the dump), we will use our Honda Fit, which is 14 years old and has seen its share of wear and tear. When the Fit no longer runs, we hope to buy an electric car, a used one.

So hot diggity dog! Here we are, an electric-car family, at least for now.

I can’t imagine anything will top this for the next Thankful Thursday.

But you never know.

Addendum: My blogging friend Eliza asked where the Tesla will be serviced. Fortunately, we won’t have to take it to New Jersey. There’s a dealership in a nearby town that services Teslas.

A blog about nature, home, books, movies, television, food, and rural life.