Tag: Dreams
Our winters from the perspective of neighboring St. Croix Island
The French learned some harsh lessons in their attempt to establish their first North American settlement on a small island perhaps ten miles north of where I know live.
“It was difficult to know this country without having wintered there; for on arriving in summer everything is very pleasant on account of the woods, the beautiful landscapes, and the fine fishing for the many kinds of fish we found there,” Samuel Champlain wrote. “There are six months of winter in that country.”
I’ve previously contended that New England has a five- or six-month winter, so that passage offers me some confirmation.
As that winter dragged on, however, more than half of the men and boys developed what Champlain called a “mal de la terre,” or “land sickness” – scurvy, a disease caused by Vitamin C deficiency. It was common among sailors stuck on ships for months at a time, and many captains knew to keep citrus fruits on board, or beverages made from evergreen tree needles. During the European Age of Sail between 1500 and 1800, it was assumed that half of all crews would die of scurvy.
It wasn’t pretty.
“Their teeth barely held in place, and could be removed with the fingers without causing pain,” Champlain wrote of the horrific suffering the settlers endured over the winter of 1604-1605. “This excess flesh was often cut away, which caused them to bleed extensively from the mouth.”
Eat your apples and oranges and grapefruit, then, as well as lemons and limes.
Notes from a Yule tree search in the woods
The tree the kid wants ain’t natchural! At least not the ones we’ve cut from the wild.
What we find in the woods are typically lopsided, with the growth mostly to one side. And they tend to be more open than full, which can have its own appeal when it comes to adding ornaments.
Not that she perceives that on her arrival from the metropolis.
She’s always been challenging and demanding.
In our longest nights
How long the day now? Our shortest is a mere 8¾ hours of visible sun if the clouds permit, barely a third of the 24-hour cycle.
Where I live, we’ve now reached the earliest sunsets. They’ll be inching later by the solstice.
Enjoy the long nights, then. Perhaps by a fire but especially in sleep. Or even out, bundled up, viewing Northern Lights and meteor showers.
Even without Carnegie Hall or the literary equivalent
What’s the point of rehearsing, revising, shooting diligently, or other practice if you’re not going to share it?
I’m always surprised when others feel otherwise.
Is it my ego or my expectation that we all need to be somehow recognized?
Whatever happened to saucers?
You know, that chinaware under coffee and tea cups.
Maybe they went the way of the cups, too, when mugs took over.
Is it something we can’t blame on changing technology, unless microwave safe is a consideration?
Or maybe it goes along with all of those paper cups we get for our takeout brew.
Looking on my life now
I seldom use my cell phone except to text or take photos.
Rarely watch television but do stream in binges.
Prefer small dinner parties to big gatherings.
Have fallen into a habit of indulging in the New York Times online in the morning.
Find it hard to believe that I’ve wound up living in an expertly renovated Cape along the Atlantic coast.
Appreciate the many days when I don’t have to get in a car to go anywhere.
Do I really need a suitcase?
I no longer desire to travel many places I haven’t yet been but would rather revisit places where I’ve been, either in person or, in the case of Tibet or Japanese temples, in my thinking and study. I also recognize that could change, given different economic circumstances and an influx of free time.
~*~
In the years since I noted that, the list has shrunk even more. As has the number of favored people who remain.
I am thinking I’d like to travel more intently closer to home. So much is overlooked.
Another round of Proust as a prompt
I recently deleted a file full of personal questions.
Personally, most of them didn’t fit, and besides, now that I’m no longer submitting writing to quarterlies and reviews for publication, I have no need for my own contributor’s notes.
Still, I found these responses from working other sets of questions. I am curious how you’d answer.
- CREATIVE WORK ENVIRONMENT: Solitary.
- WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BEDROOM? Pure white with Japanese blue accents
- OH HAPPY DAY: Sitting in the warm silence after Quaker meeting for worship has settled. Especially when the aches and pains stay away at this age.
- Or a summer afternoon along our pocket beach of the North Atlantic.
- Or dining together on our deck in warm weather or sitting beside a wood fire in winter.
- SPACE JAM: Coming upon the wild rhododendrons in full bloom atop Roan High Knob in North Carolina after a wild of arduous backpacking on the Appalachian Trail as an awakening adolescent.
- RECENT INSPIRATION: Choral singing.
- DREAM SUBJECTS: Eagles, osprey, whales, time under sail on the water.
- DREAM ASSIGNMENTS: The fine arts, spiritual community.
- WHOLE NEW WORLDS: The many dimensions of life my college girlfriend introduced to me, the life-changing experiences of the ashram, living in the desert orchard in Washington state, New England with the amazing woman in my life.
- FIRST BRUSH WITH FAME: Sessions with any of the cartoonists and columnists I served as a newspaper syndicate field representative, or was it …
- WHAT WOULD YOU BE IF YOU WEREN’T A WRITER? Really retired. At this point, the question is better recast, “What would you have been?” – something I never could quite figure out.
- WHAT COLOR AUTOMATICALLY LIFTS YOUR SPIRITS? Cobalt, indigo, or electric blue.
- THANKFUL FOR: The three incredible divas in my life, even though they don’t sing, as well as Cobscook Friends Meeting.
- FLOWERS: Daffodils, rhododendron, lilacs, sunflowers.
- DESSERT: Crème brule or rich vanilla ice cream.
- SNACK: Cashews, grilled cheese sandwiches, popcorn.
- GADGET: A corkscrew, branch loppers, charcoal grill ignition tower.
- CURRENT HOBBYHORSE: American Illuminist composers, as I term the Romantic-era masters.
- Also, Quaker Light/Seed/Truth.
- CLOTHING & DECOR STYLE: Yard sales, touch of Amish. Unpretentious and comfortable.
- DOMINANT COLOR IN MY WARDROBE: Shades of gray.
- PROFESSIONAL PEAK (SO FAR): Publication of the novels.
- MUSICAL THERAPY: A cappella part-singing
- RECENT TRIPS: Cruising in the historic schooner Lewis R. French on Penobscot Bay.
- FAVORITE MOMENT: Sliding into bed next to my wife.
- MY CARD: The usual MC or Visa.
- WORST GUILT TRIP: Ahem. (Things I’ve said, over the years.)
- WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CRUSH? Both Lutherans, one a year older than me and now deceased.
- WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST LOVE? Kay, after high school
- WHAT’S YOUR MOST FEMININE QUALITY? Tears, on the rare occasions when they come.
- WHAT WOMAN IS YOUR GUILTY FANTASY? Freckles.
- IS THERE ANYTHING YOU MISS ABOUT BEING UNATTACHED? Well, there was discretionary income.
- WITH SO MUCH COMPETITION, HOW DO YOU SIZE UP? I’ve largely moved solo, to my own beat, in out-of-the-mainstream circles.
- YOU ALWAYS NEED MORE: Time. Or is that compassion?
- EVERYONE COULD ALWAYS DO WITH LESS: Self-absorption.
- WHY I DO WHAT I DO: To remember, to discover where I’ve been, to look closer at my experience of life, to map the trail of my life, especially when it reflects others.
- BONA FIDES: BA in political science, Indiana University, working with Vincent Ostrom; extended residency in the Poconos Ashram, Swami Lakshmy-Devi’s hermitage; two published novels
- GOLD-STAR EXCELLENCE: Eagle Scout in sixth-grade, yes siree
- AMBITIONS: To develop a widespread readership; to rebuild the Society of Friends.
- FAVORITE SPOTS: The Bold Coast of Downeast Maine, the sub-Alpine range of Mount Rainier, Music Hall in Cincinnati.
- WOULD LOVE TO HAVE DINNER WITH: My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, George Hodgson, to confirm the pirate attack in crossing to America and learn the details, including the names of his parents and siblings and his relationship with Moses Harland, whom I presume to be his uncle.
- YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MANY: True friends.
- ONE DAY I HAD HOPED TO: Be influential and famous.
- FAVORITE DISCOVERY: The early Quaker understanding and practice of Light/Seed/Truth.
- NECESSARY EXTRAVAGANCE: Owning an old house.
- FAVORITE CHARITY: Dover Friends Meeting. Also, local arts organizations, public radio, American Friends Service Committee, Friends Committee on National Legislation.
- CAR: An old Chevy Sonic, but my favorite was a very used canary-color BMW 1600 coupe.
- COCKTAIL: very dry martini (Bombay sapphire, with olives).
- CREATIVE WORK ENVIRONMENT: solitary at the keyboard beside the north window, with or without classical music.
- PROFESSIONAL PEAK (AS A JOURNALIST): East Coast field representative for Tribune Media Services newspaper syndicate
- MOST UNUSUAL GIFT: A slice of rubber Swiss cheese in the mail; blown-glass Galileo weather globes; a bottle of dishwashing detergent and two towels as a wedding present.
- MOST INTERESTING SOUVENIR: Cow skull and elk vertebrae from the Yakima Valley.
- WHAT IS YOUR MOST MASCULINE QUALITY? Snoring. Aversion to shopping. Fire-building skills. Sense of direction. Love of the wild outdoors. Immersion in single projects from start to finish. Closing doors, turning off lights. Trapping and transporting squirrels. A readiness to catch bugs and crush them with my fingers.
- WHAT’S THE ONE THING IN YOUR MEDICINE CABINET YOU WOULDN’T WANT OTHERS TO KNOW ABOUT? All the bottles that have long passed their expiration date.
- WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT PROJECT? All of this blogging. And cleaning up some earlier collections.
- BREAKTHROUGH MOMENT: When diagramming sentences began to make sense. Enrolling in my first course with Vincent Ostrom. Taking up yoga. Moving to Yakima. Moving to Baltimore. Undergoing psychotherapy. Moving to New England.
- THE ROAD NOT TAKEN: Returning to the ashram, when Swami demanded. Dropping my partner before the wedding or in Yakima. Going to work at the Detroit Free Press. Admitting there was no future with the cellist and thus moving directly to New England, rather than Baltimore. Plainness, along the lines of dairy farming in the valley.
Revisiting these exercises, I’m struck by how many other desires not included here have been fulfilled or are no longer applicable. Consider CAN’T WRITE WITHOUT: caffeine. Today my mug’s filled with decaf, per doctor’s orders. Caffeine counteracts one of my meds.
We’re still looking forward to a transformed kitchen and a lot more
Under other conditions, this is where we would have started our renovations.
The kitchen, in our firmament, is the heart of a home. The one in our historic house needed some serious attention. Let me amend that, needs extensive remodeling.
The electric Montgomery Ward stovetop we inherited has a dead burner. If you’re too young to know about Monkey Wards, it was a major Chicago-based retail chain and mail-order empire that went bankrupt and out of business before Sears Roebuck. If I need to explain Sears and its Kenmore brand appliances, you really do need a history lesson. I’ll let you give me one in current pop culture in exchange. Back to the kitchen, for now. There’s no oven, other than the small tabletop convection unit we brought up with us. It’s definitely not big enough for a Thanksgiving turkey or a boneless beef prime rib, as was my birthday tradition in Dover, or even full trays of cookies for Christmas. A dishwasher is a necessity in today’s ideal world, especially when you consider my dishwashing skills, frankly, as falling short. The lack of decent electrical lighting over the sink doesn’t help. As for that lighting or additional electrical outlets? The list quickly grows. We weren’t expecting our redo to be as extensive as the one we undertook in Dover; do note, we also gleaned valuable insights from that. Or at least one of us had, the one whose opinion counts most.
Next to the kitchen was the mudroom, uninsulated and without electricity. We needed someplace to put a big freezer to augment the kitchen, garden, and marked-down grocery jackpots. The existing roof there was funky at best and leaking, along with exterior rot. New windows could point to space for new shelving, too. OK, we’ve addressed half of the mudroom checklist, for now.
The front door of the house, as previously noted, needs replacing, along with the downstairs windows and most of their sills. Anything to cut the heating bill, right?
At this point, we’ve decided to defer work on the downstairs bathroom aka the water closet.
Ditto for the emerging dining room slash crafts room with a butler’s pantry. The room which was my headquarters in the universe for five years.
And then, as for gutters? Or window dressings? Or new furnishings?
The bottom line in all of this has shifted but remains exciting, all the same.
Yet, when you’re married to one of the world’s great cooks, the state of the kitchen is a major consideration.
She and her elder daughter have some great ideas and dreams.
I, in turn, reap the benefits as these happen.
Jnana's Red Barn 