Why there’s no Eastport, Massachusetts

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

From 1653 until 1820, Maine was governed by Massachusetts.

The westernmost port down there is Westport, beside Buzzard Bay. A lovely place, by the way.

And the easternmost port was Eastport, in waters subsidiary to the Bay of Fundy. As you’ve been seeing here.

But then, come 1820, the two extremes separated when Maine finally became independent as a state.

Now I guess that easternmost point down under distinction falls on Chatham, out on Cape Cod. And Maine has no Westport.

One year, while still living in New Hampshire, I was in Eastport one weekend, and Westport, the next. I saw it as some kind of weird coincidence, not knowing there really had been a rational connection.

Have you ever thought about the name of the place where you’re dwelling?

Where the local beer’s listed as ‘Imported,’ not ‘Domestic’

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment
Welcome to the Hansom House in Dennysville, which is sometimes open on weekends. The stained glass is by the owner.

 

This is some of what’s over your head.

 

And this is some more. The shark’s not on the menu.

 

The red shoes belong to the stool, not the patron sitting on it.

 

Well, they do promote themselves as the World’s Most Absurd Bar.

And we’ve concluded the reference isn’t just to the décor.

In case you’d rather have your drink and nibbles by the fireplace.

A few great regrets in my life

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Maybe it’s just the end of the year and looking ahead, but let’s be honest.

There are things we’ve all done that we wished had gone differently.

Here are some of mine.

  1. Not knowing the realities of boy-girl relationships back as a teen. I missed out on a lot of fun and companionship. Maybe I should even add learning to dance, and not that four-square stuff they tried to stuff us into back as sixth-graders. No, New England contras and Greek circles were both epiphanies, much later.
  2. The big dream that turned out to be false. Along with all the promises I believed.
  3. Blowups and inadequacies in parenting.
  4. Divorce. And an inability to confront her long before that. Ancient history now, but even so.
  5. Hurting others.
  6. Failing to make a bestsellers list.
  7. Leaving the Pacific Northwest with my tail tucked ‘tween my legs. Even though I finally wound up living in a couple of places that suit me even better.
  8. Not being able to see a big research project through to completion. Not our fault, but I still believe it would have made a huge difference in an awareness of how politics and public services really work.
  9. All the missed social cues and opportunities that went with that. Yes, post high school. It may have even meant my professional career would have gone more Big Time.
  10. All those years of little to no physical exercise, even if I am in pretty good shape for my age.

Well, there we were!

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Find places of wonder where you are.

Without a history – its rooting and stories – there’s no future of meaning. So look around, definitely.

Otherwise, you know, it’s just back to wandering around endlessly in a chaotic wilderness.

But look overhead, too. Why the ancients discovered whole mythologies in the stars!

Scalloping in the dead of winter

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment
There’s not a lot of meat in one of these, but what there is will be treasured by many seafood lovers.

This time of year, I hear the puttering motors in the chill air before the sun’s even up as the fishing boats head out to drag the depths for scallops. No matter how low the thermometer reading or how bad the weather, the vessels venture by, or attempt to, intent on catching their daily limit of ten or 15 gallons a day in a season that runs no more than 50 or 70 days but may close earlier, depending on the sustainable harvest in each of the regulated zones.

Rigged with a boom for the heavy chain net that drags the seafloor for scallops, this vessel returns to port with its harvest.

A day not out on the water of the bays around Eastport is a day’s income that’s lost for the season. The economics of fishing are precarious enough.

These intrepid fishermen shuck their catch onboard, tossing the shells overboard, which provides grounding for the breeding of more, and then return to port with their precious harvest, often well before noon.

A shell flies toward the water as these fishermen quickly shuck the precious bivalves onboard.

The licenses are coveted and even the size of crews is limited by state law.

Come summer, many of the boats, with their rigging reconfigured, and their crews will have turned their attention to lobster.

Other important harvests here are urchins and clams.

What workers impress you the most when they’re out in bad weather?

 

As we look for the face of baby Jesus

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

This morning, as so many Christians celebrate the birth of a divine baby, I find myself reflecting on another child who intersected my life many years ago.

Not my beloved stepdaughters, who arrived later, but a Kenyan introduced to me during the AIDS outbreak.

Along with a plea for help.

As clerk, I was able to respond, that first year without the approval of the Meeting, which has fortunately followed. We’ve all been enriched as a consequence. In fact, I find myself viewing much of the world through her lens.

As I wrote to her, years later, through one of our more or less annual letters:

It’s been more than a few years since I’ve communicated with you, but you have been on my heart and mind all along, plus those of many other American Friends. You’ve met a few of them, and I’ve felt comfortable leaving you in their embrace, though I haven’t forgotten about you. Far from it. When they bring news of you, we’re always heartened.

Through all of this, you’ve been an inspiration to me. You have what we call grit, or courage, and a lot more. When I was working as a newspaper editor, I had a shortcut to two of your portraits on my computer desktop, yes, right there in the newsroom, and when things got especially rough, like I was about to do something unQuakerly, I’d click on it, and your smile and determination kept me going on the right track. Thank you, simply for being you.

Once, when a Nigerian official was walking through our office, he stopped by my desk and I told him I knew somebody very special in Africa and brought up your triumphant face.

His reply? Yes, she’s Kenyan, and he grinned in appreciation. I guess being Kenyan is something special.

We do live in a small world!

You have many reasons to be proud. And, yes, we Quakers can be proud (for the right reasons) as well as humble. (You can ask me about the humility part later, if need be.)

I feel very deeply you have greatness ahead of you, though it will never be easy. What I do know is that Jesus will always be at your side, as he has been through your hardest sufferings, even though you weren’t necessarily aware of it.

Now, take a deep breath! And, as we Quakers say, Mind the Light!

Yours in that love …

 

A half gallon of fresh scallops

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Or about 4½ pounds, purchased from a dragger docked at the Breakwater pier, where the crew of three was busy shucking the morsels from their shells. After dining on these two days straight last Christmas, we agreed we have a new holiday tradition. Unlike ones you would purchase at a market, these have no water added, and that means you can get a lovely sear when sauteing them in a bit of olive oil and butter. Do I need to add they taste heavenly?