Small Town Cheer-Up

I've been in a bit of a funk for a couple of days, but we needn't go into that here. Instead, let me tell you how I got cheered up by going out into our teeny tiny town center.

First I went to the library to return a book. Not that I needed anything more to read, but just in case there was something irresistible, I spun the tower of New Purchases. I found two quirky titles that I thought would amuse an internet friend, so I took their photos.

The previous night, I had read her blog, MothersOfBrothers, about how annoyed she is with the overuse of the word "annoying." Here was the perfect book for her!

Who doesn't love our lovable library? With it's huge orientals, antique table and chairs, lovely view of the lake, and entertaining librarian, one always feels at home here. In the basement, the end of a week long used book sale was culminating in the famous Dollar a Bag sale. Yes, I managed to fill a bag with what seem to be treasures and here I am reading them this evening. Mostly children's books, prized for their illustrations, I am drooling, sorting them out for each granchild, saving some, selling some. Thank you master used book sale guru, Jane! She had saved many jewels just for me.
Next stop: Gen'l Store. I needed traditional chocolate chips. Though there were none of the exact type I wanted, the ever-pleasing owner, Julie, said she'd share some from her own personal kitchen stash. She got her giant bag and siphoned off two cups worth for me. Gee! How fabulous was that?

Did you know our Gen'l Store sells hunting sweaters for DOGS? YES! Julie and Ian the owners aim to please!

Last of all, as I prepared to drive out into traffic, waiting for an opportune moment, a Mini passed and waved to me; I waved back. It was my FIRST EVER MINI WAVE!

Homeward bound, I felt immensely better and recovered from my funk.

Barkcloth Treasure!

Off on a jaunt with local friends, I thought it unlikely that I would find any new additions for my textile collection. We weren't in the vicinity of flea markets or large quantities of used vintage items and there was little time to browse leisurely among vendors. One store did have a sizable collection of linens, almost entirely tatted hankies, or embroidered napkins and damask tablecloths. But there was one exception and I found it - this long bark cloth table runner of a park scene.

Sweethearts are holding hands on a park bench, a nanny with a halo pushes a baby in a perambulator with a halo while a terrier watches them pass by. The tidy village from which they come adorns the foreground, with gingerbread Victorian houses, evergreen and deciduous trees.
On the other half a band concert is playing next to an equestrian statue, a crowd gathered wearing capes and berets, full skirts and suits. A soldier leans casually on a tree, while the ice cream man sells Italian ices to parched villagers.

I love my new treasure! I purchased it as an investment to sell, but all too quickly I am falling in love...

Finally Broke Down

The handkerchiefs in the NEW Handkerchief Collection are unbearably beautiful, therefore I haven't been able to bring myself to use them. They're stored in a box that was my grandfather's; a grandfather I met only a handful of times before he died in 1949.

But today I impulsively grabbed a matching-my-vest Jeanne Miller one and stuffed it in my pocket for my run. Wowzers! I LOVED having it. I must have used it a dozen times, when usually I'd employ a disgusting method I won't describe.

compassion

Every time my feelings are hurt, I remember a time when I have hurt someone elses feelings in the same way. Oh, it's not immediate. I wallow around a bit, enjoying the familiarity of being hurt, but suddenly, a memory will pop into my head that isn't a pretty picture of my own behavior.

This time it's about getting thanked. We were probably all taught that when we receive a gift, it's proper to write a thank you note. In this digital age, it's even easier to say thank you with a brief email or even a facebook thank you. But we don't always get those thanks we think we are due.

While I was knitting these caps, thinking they'd be cute Easter bonnets, I rushed to meet a deadline to get them mailed before I left on my trip north to Montreal. I also wanted to get some boxes shipped to the grandkids so they, too, would have them for Easter. I remembered I might not be back in time to get a birthday card and check to my son-in-law. I managed to meet all my gifting goals before I left. Then, in Montreal, I kept checking my Facebook wall, thinking that there would be a posting with the babies in these caps.

As I knit, I reminded myself that the hats might not fit, they might not be liked; heck, they might even be disliked! I warned myself not to get my hopes up. My old heart didn't listen carefully enough to my head and sure enough, I was disappointed not to see the caps on Facebook, though the families posted pictures of Easter. I have heard nothing about their arrival. The boxes to the grandkids, the card and check to the s-i-l, same thing. (addenda- within weeks, two thank you notes received...blush, blush)

Well, the lesson is always the same. Give it up. Remember times when I have not thanked, not been grateful, have not even liked what I've received. Been there, done that. BE HUMAN. BE COMPASSIONATE!

I'll keep at it....

iphonography and Should I Keep This iPhone?

I've been experimenting with hipstamatic app on my new iphone. I'm also trying to decide if having this fancy phone is worth the extra $30/month. I know actually for me it isn't worth it, and yet I want it! Maybe my old phone was so old as to be totally outdated with its clumsy keypad. I never used the PHONE part that much, but liked having it for when I wanted it. I'm old. Yes, I like having internet access whenever I want it. Do I want it $30 a month worth? Probably not. Yes, I love having a fun camera that takes nostalgic shots and now I can leave my better, real camera at home. Worth $30? or $15 a month? Doubtful. I love the ease and friendliness of the iPhone too. $300 extra dollars a year? Geeesh. I'm playing with the NOTES app too, and like jotting down the notes formerly taken by hand with pencil and notebook which I could never find or keep track of. How about the instant weather report, the maps and search for local fare? All terrific stuff, but the $$$$ is questionable and STILL I want to keep it.
WHAT DO PEOPLE THINK? I'll send a lovely postcard to everyone who responds. THNX.

Quiet Days l

Things are pretty quiet these days. Anyone recognize this?

Beth has a new cat - Abby. She's Patches and Quetzl incarnate, a playful kitten and full of joy. You can't see Beth's new BEES in this photo, but soon you will.
All my Mexican toys are jammed into this shelf/cubby in our living room. I love the color and spirit of Mexico and here if I stand very close, I can breathe in the feeling I had there.

First Post!

This blog is the same as the former www.mifflettes.com. That blog too was called GRAMILY but now the url address is merely what you see: http://gramily.blogspot.com. I hope this isn't too confusing for any readers. As it is, I test readers' patience by not posting for months at a time. Here we go.

T and I had separate Latin American vacations this winter. While on his, T collected all the little gems that are displayed here on a Japanese enamelware tray. There are some real gems. The bouquet was exquisitely preserved and pressed, flat and tied with lovely orange ribbon. I barely managed to get it from Houston to Boston without destroying it, while he carried it around for a month.

He reported being in sand dollar heaven and brought back far more sand dollars than you see here. These are the survivors.

Heart rocks, heart shells, heart fragments all added up to a great cache. One is suitable for making into a necklace. It even has a tiny hole at just the right place and is PINK!
The snow isn't quite all gone, but my first robin made an appearance today. That is always a regional joy, a once a year event that makes my heart beat faster for a couple of seconds. Welcome, Robin Redbreast, to Maine!

Walking Uphill

T and I were reluctant to spend a moment inside today, as the temperature soared to over 60 degrees F. Along the road to Morrison Heights there was a group of loose hens and roosters who clucked and clucked at us, but did allow me to take their pictures. There were still a few leaves left and the way the sun hit them today, they stood out as the most vibrant of the season. There is a lot to be done inside as I leave in two weeks for the winter and won't return till April. Still, on a day like today there is nothing to do but live outside.



At the top of the hill, we dipped into T's brother's house for an espresso, slice of cake and human clucking. We didn't accomplish much, but we sure spent our time well.

Moving Toward Winter

On a bulletin board at a local small college was this tiny bag (2"x3"?) ziplock bag and inside was a tiny red hand, a golden flower painted on it and a section of paper doily behind it. I was intriqued but didn't feel free to open it up and examine it. Now I wish I had. It will always be a mystery because I didn't examine it more closely.

The color has been extraordinary around here. Yes, yes, the leaves are splendid, but that is not all. I get rhapsodic over the hydrangea bush whose blossoms have transformed again and again for the last two months. That is a lot of bang for the buck.


Our neighbor has his kayaks all stacked up at the end of their most useful seasons. They are a very pretty family of four, aren't they?
I thought you might like to see the Honeysuckle Popper in action, though in this photo you can't see the pedestal that swivels and upon which my foot sits. To see a video of its use by its manufacturer (a very clever man, Mr. Honeysuckle), click on the Honeysuckle link. It's an impressive device, though just carrying it from the garage to the woods is a strain for me.
We're frantically making use of every sunny day in this part of the world, knowing that soon we'll be inside for most of the day. I have been wanting some indoor workshop time, but it's not to be had just yet, as that October sun has been shining on us creating 60 degrees F daylight hours.

The Honeysuckle Project

A big part of my landscaping project is removing the invasive plant, Honeysuckle, from the woods. No, this isn't the sweetly scented, dear little trumpet vine that I knew as a child as honeysuckle. It is a sturdy, fast growing, weedy, invasive, take -over-the-woods, I'll-eat-your-children-if-I-can bush. If you can tear it out by the roots when it is young, it's easy. Usually you aren't aware of it till it's taken over. I can tear out a fair amount of it by pulling and pulling, terrier style. Failing that, plan two is using a heavy garden fork. Lastly, you bring in a honeysuckle popper which is a six foot crowbar on a pedestal, that is inserted under the crown of the plant and pried out. In the worst cases, I have to call in T's help, but that has only happened about a half dozen times out of hundreds. My neighbor, I'll admit, has resorted to a tractor and before that used a wench.

That green fuzz is honeysuckle bushes making passage impenetrable through the woods. It isn't even hospitable to wildlife, in fact, disruptive.
You can see the line where I've stopped for the season. The foreground used to look like the background.
These woods previously looked like the top photo. Now they're clear all the way to the lake and off to the neighbors.

What I love is partially that it is total grunt work. I don't have to think at all. I just get in there and dig, grunt, dig, grunt. It's great physical work, and I am exhausted at the end of a few hours. Plus I lose weight, maybe because hours go by without a thought to eating.

Sometimes I work with only the natural sounds around me. There are lots of birds, including loons and ducks and geese on the water. Other times I listen to podcasts from This American Life, Radio Lab and The New Yorker Fiction. Either way, it's completely enjoyable and rewarding. I get such obvious results!

Getting to Eight

The transitions between seasons seems a bit frantic to me, as I think of all that needs to be done in our landscape. In the fall, there is pruning to be done for many shrubs, digging up and dividing of those garden perennials gone wild, and then relocating them, compost to be distributed, bulbs to be planted, holes to be dug for new plants, watering to be done, summer furniture to be put away and so forth and so on. This year I'm working around the new patio and wishing I had a clear vision of how I'd like it to look eventually. I'm not a planner by nature.

I worry less when I am outside about what needs to be done, than I do when I'm inside looking out. Being in nature is so soothing and calming, it's nearly impossible to worry there. One comes back to one's stronger self, connected to the bigger world. It's a predictable sedative.

I can picture my Aunt Thelma working lovingly in her garden and yard in the fall in her plaid Pendleton jacket. Indeed, she taught me the names of the shrubs which still roll across my tongue and mind -arborvitae, euonymous, andromeda. I think of Maggie who loved the fall but not gardening. Together we gathered basketsful of horse chestnuts on our weekend trips in New England to bring to the chidlren in our classrooms. I never knew just what to DO with them, but I bet she did.

Just being outside is bracing and reaffirming of how good it is to be alive. The cooler fall air seems to go deeper into my lungs and the winds that lick my shoulders make me shiver with delight. Above, you can see the tiny floating dock that was covered often with birds drying their wings a month or so ago.
The sky is bigger this time of year and the hue of blue is steely cold, intense, and the perfect background for the yellow beech leaves which you can't see here.
Apples aren't ordinarily the size of grapefruit in my experience, but we have a few that are immense and approaching that size. My hand is barely able to enclose this one which I am about to eat.
Sliced into eighths is my preference for apple-eating, but the slicer-corer couldn't move any further down than 1/10 of the way on this baby. I finished with a conventional knife on the appointed divisions, put the crescents on a plate and added a tablespoon of peanut butter for dipping and called it lunch. This magnificent apple came from Francis Fenton's apple orchard of heritage varieties many, many years old.

Phungus Phase

Apologies, dear readers, for more on fungi. This little treasure delighted me, growing all in one bundle, little shoots shorter than my fingers. I am boring you with three photos to emphasize scale. I'm tempted to start a terrarium, or would have been in earlier decades.

More Walks in the Woods

Red Maple Carpet - shockingly crimson and abundant



Two fungi, so clearly body parts. Lisa and DH, what ARE they called?

and the fungi of fairy tales. I checked: no gnomes underneath

Fungi

T and I took a fall hike into the hills in Montville, the Frye-Hogback Section of the George's Highland Path. Fungi was abundant. It was a lovely day for a seven mile hike. As T said, "Delightful lunch (he packed it), delightful woods, delightful weather and delightful company." Because we need a new roof, we are unable to take the Spanish/Portugese hike we had planned so instead we're capitalizing on what's close by. Besides, we got away from the pound-pound-pound on the rooftop at home.

T's FIFTY-NINTH!

We did a ton of grocery shopping in Freeport and Portland, ran into an old friend I hadn't seen since the eighties, picked up Pete at the airport, met Steve and Patti at Street + Co. for a birthday bash for dear T. Pete, T and I shared the lobster diavlo and still had leftovers for lunch today. Now T is in the same decade I am, at least for a few years.

Queen Bees Take Third Place!

Our spelling bee team, Queen Bees, went down on "sacrilegious." Don't you love a guy who will go in drag for the sake of the team?? That's our TOMasina!

Newly Installed Clothesline

I did it myself (well, almost)! Following Martha Stewart's step-by-step instructions, I bought the hardware and installed this clothesline with pulleys and line separator and line tightener. My motivation was to launder and air out four European damask duvet covers and pillow shams that had been sitting in an old building for at least a decade and smelled rather moldy, actually VERY moldy and mildewy. Dryers work no miracles on these babies.

The part I did not do myself was the biggest of all, sawing down the obstructing, no-account tree between the two chosen ones. T obligingly did that this morning at 7 a.m. I hope the neighbors didn't mind.

First Time Boutonniere-Maker

The requests of the bride for more and more floral accessories for her local wedding grew and grew. Finally the self-employed part-time florist/friend/neighbor asked me for help. I showed up at her house on Friday morning with no experience but not exactly clumsy fingers. She demonstrated how to make a garden flavored boutonniere from a marigold, eucalyptus leaf and a sprig of either rosemary (for health) or sage (for wisdom). I took to it like a ....well, you know. It was a fine morning indeed, working in her outdoor space, while she worked on table arrangements; one of the loveliest days of the summer; gabbing, clucking, tittering, guffawing and configuring eleven of these little gems for the lapels of the gentlemen in the wedding.