A BUCKET LIST OF PLACES TO VISIT

How many items are supposed to be on a bucket list, anyway? Twenty is what I’d heard, but now I come across 101. Since this is a Tendril, we start out with 1o.

  1. The Grand Canyon. A mile down? Like an upside-down mountain? How incredible!
  2. Greece and Istanbul. Well, it would fit right in with the roots of my latest novel.
  3. Holguin, Cuba. I love the Quakers I know there. I think January would be perfecto.
  4. Alaska, taking the ferry from Seattle or Vancouver. We’re talking summer, remember.
  5. For the other nine months? Hawaii. I hear it’s about much more than colorful shirts.
  6. Nantucket. So close to home.
  7. The Adirondack mountains, from the top. Again, so close to home.
  8. Tanglewood, summer home of the Boston Symphony. Is there no excuse I haven’t done it?
  9. Carnegie Hall, from the inside. I used to know somebody who lived in the tower at the back.
  10. The Metropolitan Opera. Standing outside doesn’t count.

~*~

What places would top yours?

~*~

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TEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT APRIL

  1. Easter this year was April 1 — except for the Eastern Orthodox, who will observe it on April 8.
  2. White chocolate and malt balls. The Easter Bunny or somebody brings them.
  3. Ferns and flowers. Daffodils and irises, especially when they come indoors as cut flowers.
  4. The quality of daylight changes.
  5. Hot dandelion greens with fried eggs.
  6. The last of the snow melts despite a few spring snowstorms.
  7. Goldfinches discard their gray “duster jackets” and turn brilliantly yellow again.
  8. Bagging seaweed at the end of the road and filling the car trunk gives me an excuse to hit the beach early. Remember, the stuff makes a perfect mulch in the garden.
  9. Sitting in the loft of the barn again, catching up on some reading, now that the weather’s warmed.
  10. So many birds are actually singing in the morning. Quite rowdy, actually, at times.

~*~

What do you like about April?

Two antique forks and two paperweights on a shelf in my studio,

Of course, this is totally unrelated to the theme. Just another thing on my mind.

 

TEN FAVORITE ITEMS OF CLOTHING

I’ve never been a clothes horse, in part because I could rarely get anything that really fit. Let’s say the awareness has come long after childhood. Here are some of my favorites:

  1. Wool socks.
  2. My big green terrycloth robe.
  3. My stack of sweaters.
  4. Hawaiian shirts.
  5. Banded collar shirts.
  6. My three custom-cut Jos. Banks suits, back when I was with the newspaper syndicate. Not that they would fit me anymore.
  7. Bell bottoms, back in the day.
  8. And Levi’s, which actually came in my size. Though now I’ve moved on into slacks having more pockets.
  9. Converse sneakers, at least until the fascia plantar kicked in.
  10. Turtlenecks, now that I’ve retired.

~*~

So what’s your own favorite attire?

Pussy willows … harbingers of spring.

Of course, this is totally unrelated to the theme. Just another thing on my mind.

 

MY LIFE AS A ROGUE, AS IT WERE

Being born in Aquarius, maybe it’s all too natural:

  1. Rogue scout troop (with all of our hiking, backpacking, and primitive camping – plus all the scoutmaster’s strictness).
  2. Rogue education, a patchwork of political science, literature, economics, sides of philosophy while aiming for the field of daily journalism.
  3. Rogue hippie.
  4. Rogue lover.
  5. Rogue ashram, with its decision to quit the world I’d known up till then.
  6. Rogue worship (this alternative Christianity).
  7. Rogue Quaker, too?
  8. Rogue career, mostly in out-of-the-way settings before abandoning the executive ladder to return to the ranks and a real life.
  9. Rogue poet, rogue novelist.
  10. Rogue blogger.

Maybe it makes sense.

~*~

Just how don’t you fit into expectations?

In open water on the Piscataqua River, Newington, New Hampshire.

Not that this fits into the theme, it’s just one more thing on my mind.

TEN DIFFERENCES BETWEEN KIDS NOW AND BACK IN MY DAY

  1. We could ride in the open-air bed of a pickup. And stand up looking out over the top of the cab, the wind in our face.
  2. Nobody made us wear helmets when riding our bicycles. None of us had helmets, for that matter. We were lucky enough to have bikes. Helmets were for football players or soldiers.
  3. We didn’t spend half of the day on a school bus.
  4. We didn’t have armed guards at school or even a palsy-walsy policeman.
  5. Dental braces weren’t cool.
  6. Boys owned a suit or sports coat and neckties, which some of us could actually knot properly.
  7. Girls had to wear skirts that covered their knees.
  8. Older kids might have a manual typewriter. Or even electric. Forget smart phones or laptops or social media. Thumbs were for sucking during particularly tough tests.
  9. There were three television networks – plus an educational station in some cities. And network news wasn’t rightwing propaganda.
  10. We all went to Sunday School. And said our bedtime prayers faithfully.

~*~

What other differences do you see?

~*~

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TEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MARCH

  1. Grow lights over shelves of seedling trays in our bay window. The 24-hour lights themselves, even before all the green shoots appear and flourish.
  2. The dramatic possibility of the biggest snows (though I could do without the digging out that follows).
  3. Arts & Letters afternoon in the Quaker meetinghouse. We have some fine painters and writers and quilters and weavers and sculptors and even musicians. Think of it as a salon without a piano.
  4. As I’ve already mentioned, a salon of Friends.
  5. Cutting pussy willows. A first harbinger of spring. Many of our friends welcome the gift.
  6. The realization we just might make it through another winter.
  7. First bulbs in bloom. Sometimes surrounded by melting snow.
  8. Bird migration. Especially the geese overhead.
  9. Flying kites at the beach.
  10. Those new wool socks from Christmas, now that they’re in regular rotation.

~*~

What do you find personally meaningful in the month of March?

Yes, an icicle. Our neighborhood can be full of these long daggers.

 

TEN YUMMY SOUPS

It’s prime time for hot soup. We’re not talking about anything out of a can or a package dropped into boiling water. These are the ones made with fresh ingredients – or things you froze in season for use later. Probably with a good homemade stock, too.

  1. Tomato. Seriously, my wife’s is always a hit – and the glutten-free, lactose-intolerant, or vegans aren’t left out of the pleasure. Our secret ingredient is the tomatoes we cook down and stick in the big freezer in high summer in anticipation of this.
  2. Potato-leek. Simply comforting. Again, with our own leeks. Storing them through winter is a special challenge – so far, we find peat moss works best in buckets placed at the back of the cellar.
  3. Split pea and/or lentils. I imagine there are whole cookbooks devoted to the possibilities.
  4. Ramen. Remember, Japan created restaurants purely for this. Forget that cheap stuff in the plastic bag – though if you do, add tofu, the way we do.
  5. Pho. A hearty Vietnamese dinner in a wondrously big bowl.
  6. Seafood, meaning clam chowder or lobster bisque. (OK, that’s two. I just love both.)
  7. Hot and sour. Fresh Chinese bamboo shoots can make a world of difference.
  8. White bean. Last one I had was an Iranian version with lamb’s neck and another eight or nine ingredients. It was heavenly. Or you can stick to a hambone. Just don’t disparage good beans, OK? (Well, let’s add a footnote for turtle black beans, especially as a great Cuban bowl.)
  9. Ravioli. Yes, as a soup. Slurp ’em up!
  10. Asparagus. We put those stems we cut off to work later.

Well, India’s Mulligatawany belongs on the list, too. I doubt we’re done here yet.

~*~

What would you add to the list?

They’re a threat.

 

TEN THINGS I DON’T LIKE ABOUT TURNING 70

  1. Aches and pains.
  2. Memory recall.
  3. Slowing down.
  4. Ditto, the lovey-dovey.
  5. And the surviving strands are getting narrower and narrower, almost like spider-weave now.
  6. Realizing how often I have – and still do – misread social cues, unintentionally hurt others, blown opportunities. I’ll even admit to some serious regrets now.
  7. All the friendships I’ve lost along the way, moving from job to job and town to town.
  8. Too much sensitivity to hot and cold.
  9. Won’t ever hike the Appalachian Trail at this point. Or other similar heights.
  10. Realize what a gap exists between me and those 50 years younger. It’s not just the technology stuff, either.

~*~

What don’t you like about being the age you are?

Snowflake cookie cutter in a kitchen window catches the sunlight.

 

TEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT TURNING 70

  1. I’m married to a most attractive and fascinating woman – even if she’s smarter than me.
  2. We’ve settled in a good place, with good friends. Survived to get here.
  3. Our two kids are way, way above average – and we’ve never had to post bail for either of them.
  4. I’m not trailing an oxygen tank or using a walker.
  5. I have a prodigious amount of literary writing to my credit. I’m actually proud of most of – I’ve written what I want.
  6. After a remarkable life journey, I have perspectives that sometimes feel like wisdom.
  7. My spiritual practice keeps deepening.
  8. I haven’t run out of great things to read.
  9. I’ve never sung better, and maybe the same can be said for my dancing – New England contras and traditional Greek. Never knew about either of them as a young man.
  10. Somehow, we’re able to pay our bills. Most of the time.

~*~

What do you like about being the age you are?

~*~

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TEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT FEBRUARY

  1. Sitting in the dark in front of the lighted Christmas tree. And convincing my wife we don’t have to take it out at least until Presidents Day.
  2. Hard cider at the tasting room at the Rollinsford mill.
  3. Cross-country skiing. Assuming we get enough snow.
  4. My wife makes a big prime rib dinner, usually just before Great Lent begins.
  5. Oh, yes, that last martini before Lent.
  6. Crisp sunlight – and days as long as they were in October.
  7. Chuck’s sauna. Out by the farm pond.
  8. Maple syrup.
  9. Watching the birds at the feeder.
  10. Wondering about bob houses and how thick the ice is.

~*~

What do you find personally meaningful in the month of February?

Tibetan Buddhist prayer flags in the icy air.