
The day after Christmas

You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall

As the sign in front of an Aroostook County church advised:
Yes, I had to laugh.
It all starts with the events being remembered today.
The quote also flips the quotation from Revelation, which I recall with its association with an illustration on my grandparents’ dining room wall, where he’s knocking at a thick wooden door. Maybe that’s a symbol of our own hearts, too many days … closed, hard, and dark.
Today, let him enter, in spirit, and dine with you and those you love most dearly.
May you be spared all temptations in this blessed day.
still wondering why I’m amazed what one discovers in each move, why, unpacking is almost like Christmas, even the delights of discovering the workings of another’s mind, like Evelyn’s neat way of wrapping electrical cords to appliances (Mennonite heritage appears in curious ways) moving forward, rather than sideways or backwards on ice, your friend who made it thus far and nothing much broke
I can’t help reflecting on some acquaintances who departed this life way too early.
Here are ten from my life.


At the beginning of the week, we had a tease of the Christmas-card expectations of a white holiday. Whether it holds to the big day itself is always in question, and the forecast seems to shift hourly. Even so, enjoy the scene.


One of my more familiar drives while living in Dover meant crossing over into Maine on my way to or from the Antique House.
Within a seven-mile stretch of the roadway, there were at least 16 family cemeteries – some with only two or three visible stones.
It’s all the more striking when you realize that two separate two-mile stretches have none at all, so the burials actually occur in just three miles. In those parts, you probably couldn’t turn around without encountering a tombstone.
Many of the graveyards are overgrown, with some surrounded by iron railings.
I’m guessing there are more, if we were going more slowly and looking even closer.
Still, we’re left wondering about the families, some who settled the grounds in the 1600s, and how long they remained.
But on the drive, each one is gone in a flash.
Just because I watch the stars doesn’t mean I trust them.
We had foxes at the bird feeder and viewed them as they slinked off into the woods, akin to Garrison Hill, and next to it was a bear.
I was a championship swimmer and a symphony violinist not actually competing or performing but enjoying the status.
At the airplane crash scene as a reporter, I helped put bodies in valet bags.
With a landmass of 16,577 square miles, the country of Denmark is almost exactly half the size of Maine and has six-times the population of the Pine Tree State. Yet Denmark uses close to 10,000 megawatts of power annually, about double of what Maine uses.
If my math’s right, that means they’re using only a third of what we do, per capita.
How do they do it?
We both have cold winters with long nights. And most of us rely on fuel oil for heat.
And, for the record, nearly half of Maine is uninhabited, year-‘round, meaning the lived-in part of Maine’s about the size of Denmark. They do stay warm and keep the lights on, don’t they?