
Vader, on our deck.
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall

Vader, on our deck.
Of course, I was already running behind in trying to get to a Zoom meeting. As usual, had to find the link (which I cut and paste from a master file of regular events) and also make sure my remote speaker was connected.
But then I found I couldn’t log on until an update was installed.
Sometimes that means Windows; other times, like this, it was Zoom. Either way, I’m not in charge of my computer until that’s done.
The clock was ticking and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. In a way, it was like having to wait for a very long freight train to pass and clear the street crossing. Or getting stuck in congestion on an Interstate highway because of an accident somewhere up ahead.
Whew! Thankfully, the update process was short and I “arrived” in enough time to unmute and all that.
One more example of experiences unique to our times?
Or is it more like an updated twist on something from earlier times like finding the car wouldn’t start?

As we’re learning around here in our village and surrounding rural setting, it’s often wise to call ahead before venturing forth.
Don’t assume a small business will be open, especially in the off-season when our population has sharply shrunk and business is slim. Look, it can be frustrating after driving an hour to a surrounding town only to find the door locked. Can’t blame them for taking a day or night off.
But then, when you dialed and got no answer, they just might have been too busy to pick up the phone, all three times you tried.
I’ve come a long way from the frozen fish sticks of my Midwestern youth, OK. Seafood’s a favorite part of my cuisine, which is one more reason I love living in coastal Maine. But I still have trouble telling one species from another.
So here are some starting points.

For the record, neither starfish nor jellyfish are fishes.
In reviewing passages I deleted from my draft version of Quaking Dover, I found this troubling detail. The conflicts with the Indigenous people, after all, are not the focus of the book. And yet …
After “the Indians renewed their ravages on the frontiers in small parties [in 1711, with several of the attacks detailed] in consequence of these ravages the House of Assembly passed the following vote: ‘Voted for Incouragement of Volunteers to Kill and Destroy the Indian Rebels in the province of New Hampe for every man shall be paid sixty pound, for every woman forty pound, for every child thirty to be paid out of the Treasury, and that the said Volenteers shall Remain in that service at least four months, not leaving any Garrison unnarmed, but have the consent of the comitte of Meletia for there so Inlisting … by order of the house. Sam’l Keais, Clark.”
~*~
That’s it, a bounty for killing children, and another, their mothers. Men might be considered warriors, but not necessarily.
Even if this was never paid, it’s inexcusable.
And the English considered the Natives barbarian savages?

Eggs Benedict at Sue’s Cobscook Cafe on U.S. 1 in Edmunds is a weekend tradition. Weekdays are just as special.
The small, family-run diner has good reason to take pride in its classic offerings.
I had initially dismissed them as inconsequential, but when Massachusetts annexed New Hampshire, it allowed two crucial exemptions in the Live Free or Die province.
The first let all free males vote in town affairs, not just those in good standing in the tax-supported church. And it let them hold land.
What that meant for those joining the Quaker and Baptist movements was that they wouldn’t be disenfranchised for their faith.
That wasn’t the case in the Puritan colonies of Massachusetts and Connecticut.
I tried.
And tried.
And tried.
Damn it.