- A second presence in the house year-‘round. Plus our guests.
- Seeing the home renovations finally under way. And how.
- My maiden voyage in a ship overnight. As you’ll be seeing.
- A steady supply of real tomatoes, once they started arriving at the beginning of September, thanks to a serious, raised-bed garden already featured here at the Red Barn.
- Our new choral director. We may be a small community, but there’s some deep talent.
- The resurrected film society. The showings are followed by some serious discussion into the wee hours.
- Contradances, too, both here in Eastport and at the Common Ground Fair.
- My appearances resulting from Quaking Dover. You can still find some of them online.
- Scallops in season. (And local blueberries, cranberries, lobsters, and crab.)
- All the eagles I observed during the alewives’ run and additional encounters after. Always inspiring.
Author: Jnana Hodson
In downsizing to a remote fishing village in Downeast Maine, this eclectic writer feels everything's coming together.
Hodie, hodie!
My choir has been singing a joyous Renaissance piece that translates, in Allen M. Simon’s rendering, as:
Today Christ is born:
Today the Savior appeared:
Today on Earth the Angels sing,
Archangels rejoice:
Today the righteous rejoice, saying:
Glory to God in the highest.
Alleluia.
I first heard it in the second classical concert I ever attended, around age 12, with the velvety Roger Wagner Chorale on tour. Never, ever, did I imagine I’d be part of presenting it myself.
Still blows me away, all around.
And festive music rolls on
Construction by Rachel A. Wllliams.
Kinisi 189
TISSUES
ISSUES
One teacher’s nomination for best ‘overheard poem’
Woman: “I’m pregnant.”
Man: “I’m leaving.”
I’ll even nominate it for best flash fiction.
Now, let’s contrast that to today, the Nativity narrative.
As well as all the merry, merry, plus gratitude.
I’m sticking around. How about you?
Like those Christmas shopping receipts piling up
Now that our house renovation has begun in earnest (you’ll be reading about that in upcoming posts), the delivery order invoices are creating a file.
I do wonder if I’ll be able to make sense of them at some future time. They’re more cryptic than many of my poems.
Consider “¾ T&G Advantech 4×8.” What? That’s tongue-and-groove plywood. Forget the price, per unit or all together. They do make those martinis in Manhattan look cheap. Not that I’m going there.
Maybe I should have gift wrapped it
I have to wonder whether my book Quaking Dover is my way of saying farewell to my Friends and congregation in Dover – or of staying in touch, now that I’ve moved further east.
Only time, of course, will tell.
Reflecting on ‘people from away’
That is, PFAs, as we’re known among the locals.
I haven’t encountered the negative reaction some report, but feel myself among those warmly welcomed.
Part of it is, I believe, an openness to approach what’s here without wanting to totally “improve” it. I mean, if you can’t stand the smell of cow manure, you shouldn’t move into farm country. Or, for much of Maine, the stench of a paper mill.
That doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot to contribute, but we need to be respectful in acknowledging what’s attracted us as well as the dirty work that needs to be done. You know, the equivalent of washing dishes.
Or loving someone warts and all.
Sleigh bells passed down
These belonged to the wonder horse Prince, who appears in my genealogical blog Orphan George. As a figure in our family, he was owned by my grandfather, who picked him up from two older brothers in succession. And now they’re going on to my daughters. Bet they cost a pretty penny, back in the day.
Not my ‘latest book,’ but my ‘last’
That’s what I keep telling myself. And others.
I really don’t know if I have the energy or endurance to tackle another big draft and round of revisions.
On the other hand, I do have a lode of material already in hand, waiting to be better organized and presented.
Lead me not into temptation, right?
