Hello from North Haven! Despite early March’s best efforts, spring seems to be in progress! The mud is deepening, the robins are flocking, and pussywillows glisten by the side of the road. With spring comes spring cleaning. When the weather truly warms up, I’ll be packing away Penrose’s snow things in hopes they’ll still fit […]
We quickly realized that Gorham wasn’t going to be the easy walk we had pictured, but as Penrose fearlessly navigated granite scrambles and icy obstacles, we decided to keep going.
The “Rosh Hoshanah for the Trees” doesn’t start until tomorrow at sundown, but I’ve seen Pinterest-worthy fruit plates and centerpieces, and even fruit and vegetable-related crafts galore on all my networks.
I think it’s great that Penrose feels comfortable taking the initiative to give herself a break. And I don’t want to ignore her when she’s yelling for me. But I also don’t want to reward the part where she’s yelling (and, if I tell her I’m waiting for her to feel more calm before I go upstairs she comes down and starts pulling on my hand, which I also don’t want to reward.)
I couldn’t help but remember the Ice Storm of ’98 as we luxuriated in front of the woodstove, watching Singin’ in the Rain and eating root vegetable gratin. That storm wasn’t nearly as forgiving, and it colored the second half of my senior year at Mt. Blue High School.
“Happy Holidays” has its place. But for a Jewish person in an isolated community, the feeling of being seen, heard and acknowledged with Chanukah-specific holiday greetings is rare and wonderful.
Hello from North Haven! And a happy belated Thanksgiving! Penrose, Bill and I made our customary trip to central Maine to spend the holiday with my parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, and my nephew, now a sturdy two-month-old. We walked down to Parker Pond before dinner with my nephew bundled up and strapped to his father’s chest. […]
Once the ballot is marked, the clock-wise circumnavigation of the room continues. The poll warden pauses her knitting to ceremoniously slide open the giant, locked, wooden ballot box and slide it shut again.
Although the thought of traveling with a young country kid to the big city seems daunting, cities are full of young kids. They’re scootering down the sidewalks ahead of their parents, climbing on the playhouse at the park, and taking advantage of all the fun things a city has to offer.
As the helmeted drivers made their introductory laps to the wild cheers of the crowd, I realized I’d never been to the derby before. I must have been too busy being aggressively uncool in high school. Too bad – this was GREAT.