spontaneously
brilliant
bare bones
ignition un-
impossible
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
spontaneously
brilliant
bare bones
ignition un-
impossible
I’ve long been fascinated by what I’ve come to call the “shadow Meeting” – people who continued to worship as Quakers and uphold many of the values after being “read out of Meeting” for violating its discipline, usually over marriage procedures.
It’s a fact for several generations of my own ancestry in North Carolina.
One place I see it in Dover is with the Varneys.
The patriarch of this prolific Quaker line was Humphrey Varney (1636-1714), a brickmaker who moved to Dover from Ipswich, Massachusetts. He married Sarah Starbuck, widow of Joseph Austin, as her second husband.
After the Dover’s disastrous massacre, their son, Ebenezer Varney (1664-1753), married Mary Otis after her return from captivity, and their son Peter (1666-1732) wed Elizabeth Evans.

After that, well, it seems the Varneys married into all of the other Dover Friends families. Many of them also spread, most notably across Maine.
The family made its imprint on Dover, though I’m not sure how many remained Friends.
Jesse Varney was a morocco shoemaker when his store was consumed in flames in December 1810.
By 1837, Varney’s Block stood at Lower Square on Central Avenue near Washington Street. In 1844, a bigger building was erected.
In 1847, 99-year-old Eunice Varney died. She was the oldest resident and a member of the Society of Friends.
There’s Varney Road, extending Long Hill Road to Blackwater Road. And Varney Cleaners, founded by Fred Varney.
The Varney School on Washington Street, used from 1861 to 1953 and now as law offices, was named in honor of Judge John R. Varney. He died in an 1882 fire that destroyed the Washington Street Baptist Church building.
George Varney was a prominent merchant for more than 40 years and owned a drug store on Washington Street before retiring in 1920 at age 65 and passing the next year. He built a large home on Arch Street in 1913.
John R. Varney was co-owner of two newspapers – the Dover Enquirer, purchased in 1868, and the Dover Daily Republican, acquired in 1880.
My curiosity, of course, wonders how many of the Quaker values continued in their lives, as well as what directions their faith took. I like to think it worked like yeast.

~*~
Check out my new book, Quaking Dover, available in a Nook edition at Barnes & Noble.
Welcome to Dover’s upcoming 400th anniversary.
that or the alternative, boredom, besides, we’ll have the rest of eternity to recover Ahem, amen, what’s this, a partner? or simply another vaporous angel?
The thought had once appalled me. Like was this the epitome of laziness, that you really didn’t bother to get dressed for the day? Or that perhaps you’d gained so much weight you wanted something that would hang loose rather than accentuate anything?
Skip ahead to retirement and then the Covid shutdown, and I’m having to admit there have been days when I’m living happily in sweats, especially in the depth of a northern New England winter.
Sometimes I even think of it as luxury, not having to venture outdoors.
Oh, what a bum I’ve become kind of feeling!
How do you dress for everyday comfort?
Each fall, donors to the Support the Met Broadcasts campaign receive a handsome program guide to the upcoming opera season.
I’ve kept mine, going back to 2005, and find they make a fine reference collection regarding both the plots and performers.
My own listening experience goes back to Joan Sutherland’s first role there in late 1961 or ’62. It was exciting, even through all of the AM radio static of the day.
While much of the core repertoire remains the same, there are also new productions and new or rare works, and it’s interesting to see how these are lined up.
What struck me in the new booklet is how few of the singers’ names I recognized.
When I first started listening, the leading performers were celebrities, often household names and gossip column fodder.
It was a tight circle at the top, in this country and in Europe, enhanced by handsome multidisc LP albums.
Think Pavarotti or Callas.
Well, times have changed, as has the focus. The singers are often more musically informed, and they’re required to physically to act and project their roles in sometimes demanding stagecraft. As for the sets and costumes? This is the height of theater.
The amazing thing is how many fine performers there are now, and they’re active far beyond the confines of the Met and its elite sisters.
There’s a similar shift in the conductors. I recognized only six who will be in the pit. The biggest surprise was seeing the Pittsburgh Symphony’s maestro among them, and he’s considered solid but hardly superstar. (Consider that a compliment, by the way.)
What’s significant is that one-fifth of them are women, one leading two separate operas. The cadre is growing.
What’s missing, though, is American-born conductors. They are active on the symphonic scene globally.
Has to be the biggest business employer in Washington County, where jobs that pay well are scarce. Some days, the vapor plumes can be seen miles away, and ditto for the smell. Much of the bundled pulp is shipped from the Cargo Pier in Eastport.
The plant also makes kraft paper and tissue.
Moving the event back a month has allowed Dover Friends to spread the word more widely, and I’m definitely excited.

Well, it’s their history, too.
The official book release party for Quaking Dover is Saturday at 7 pm in the historic meetinghouse at 141 Central Avenue in Dover, and you’re welcome to join us, if you’re in the area.
In addition to the meet-and-greet, I’ll present an illustrated overview of the story and the ways this book came to be. I have to admit I was surprised by much I uncovered along the way.

Here’s me, above, with the meetinghouse.
Hope to see you!
I know the big scenes around here are irresistible, but for me these snippets sometimes say everything about the place, too. Small spaces can be precious, too.

This was going to be about squirrels, my nemesis in Dover, but now I’m thinking of Bullwinkle and his kin.
After all, I am living on Moose Island, not that I’ve seen any in town yet. But then I’m not seeing many squirrels here, either. Instead, it’s mostly deer.
Now, for the star of today’s show.
The joke is that moose don’t have horns, they have antlers. The Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge excuses itself by noting that it’s named after a brook that meanders through the preserve. Not that it’s the only fine body of water.


And the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service adds that the preserve is home to much more than moose, bear, beaver, and deer. For example, some 223 bird species have been identified in its two divisions – the 31-square-mile Baring Division to our northwest and the 13-square-mile Edmunds Division to our west, both within a half-hour drive from Eastport.
The terrain is varied, much of it wetlands, and a third is protected as wilderness.
I especially appreciate the miles of hiking trails, some along former roads.
What I wasn’t expecting on one outing was the moose I encountered on a grassy roadside near a flowage.
When I first spotted the tawny hump amid the green, I thought it might have been one bent over grazing, in which case I’d need to approach cautiously, or else just a big rock.
Instead, it became a mystery.



Tire tracks in the grass had me wondering if a ranger driving down the gated-access lane had tried to veer away from the animal on the roadway, only to have it bolt into the oncoming vehicle.
The carcass was fresh enough that a solitary vulture overhead wasn’t even taking notice.
Later, back in town, I began picking up details. Everybody seemed to have more to add, most of it from Facebook.
Seems the baby male was hit on Charlotte Road earlier in the morning. (Baby? It was bigger than me.) Folks were wondering what took the wildlife officers so long to clear the road. They then took the remains into the preserve, to return to the food chain. Mama Moose, meanwhile, spent the rest of the day wandering forlornly.
It is a relief to know that moose collisions aren’t so common around here that they’re taken for granted. Deer, on the other hand, as everyone will remind me – keep your eyes open.

What’s the most surprising thing you’ve ever encountered out on a walk? Or even a drive?