Warm weather brings out old car buffs who love to show off their restoration efforts. Owners will sometimes drive hours just to show off their pride and joy, sometimes then just cruising up and down the Ave.

You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
Warm weather brings out old car buffs who love to show off their restoration efforts. Owners will sometimes drive hours just to show off their pride and joy, sometimes then just cruising up and down the Ave.

Music written with distinctive shapes for each pitch became a way of training American amateurs to sing harmony in a choir. Fa-so-la plus mi, rather than do-re-mi, for starters. Known as shape-note singing, it led to a distinctive style of hymn performance called Sacred Harp, especially popular in the South. Here’s a bit from the Easter Anthem by colonial New England composer and tanner William Billings. I learned the piece with Mennonites and can attest that shape notes can be so much fun.

Native crafts dying as television extends northward: work done at night as people sat around chatting now slips away.
It already happened in Europe long ago.
As for home life?
Just consider:
There’s more, should you be interested. Like Ethiopia on September 11, with its 13-month calendar descending from the Egyptians.
Let’s leave it at that, for now. Instead, you may want to chill the bubbly.

A longstanding highlight of Eastport’s annual Old Home Week and Fourth of July festivities is a U.S. naval ship visit. Here is the destroyer DDG 98 Forrest Sherman from last year’s edition as illuminated in glowing late-afternoon sunlight.
To explore related free photo albums, visit my Thistle Finch blog.

Lowbush blueberries are classified a wild crop, but the barrens where they grow do require tending. One practice involves burning the fields every few years to discourage weeds, shrubs, and trees from taking over.


Swollen by melting snow and ice, forest rivers in Maine were used to float log booms to sawmills or railroads downstream. It’s hard to imagine now, though the tradition involved extensive preparations and skills. This example is the Mattawamkeag River in Aroostook County.
Here we go again. As if we need an excuse to party and pop bubbly.
As the calendar year ends, it’s fair to ask What’s Left in your own life as you move on for the next round.
In my novel, the big question is stirred by a personal tragedy, leaving a bereft daughter struggling to make sense of her unconventional household and her close-knit extended Greek family.
In the wider picture, she’s faced with issues that are both universal and personal.
For me, it’s somehow fitting that my most recent work of fiction returns to Indiana, the place where my first novel originated before spinning off into big city subways. The state is also home to more Hodsons than anyplace else in the world, as far as I can see, not that I’ve been back in ages.
What’s Left is one of five novels I’m making available to you for free during Smashword’s annual end-of-the-year sale, which ends January First.
Get yours in the digital platform of your choice, and enter the New Year right.
For details, go to the book at Smashwords.com.


Ours doesn’t come indoors until the day before Christmas and rarely is it decorated before dark. Long ago I learned the price of pushing the tradition to get the job done earlier in the day. Nope, it’s not a task to be done more efficiently.
Last year, we cut ours at Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge with a permit. You’d be amazed how few natural trees measure up. We’d see a good one only to find two growing close together. Separated, they were lobsided and had bald spots. This one caught our eye but we then passed, thinking it might be too open. A mile or two or walking later, we returned and decided to give it a try after all.
Here’s to the wonders of the tradition of sitting in a mostly dark room early morning or evening and enjoying the lighted branches.