Troubled waters, restless sky

Throughout my younger years I often reflected on how lucky I was to grow up in a time of relative peace. Too young to know the horrors of Vietnam personally, born decades after the World Wars… I felt relieved that our world had learned it’s lessons in the atrocities of war. This is not to imply that there hasn’t been turmoil around the globe, that there haven’t been major issues brewing under the thin veneer of “peace time” since. I think it’s crystal clear, particularly now… just how thin that skin was.. and is…

Passed this in my travels last week… I want to hug the person who displayed it. Amen. One of the many issues before us.

I have always hoped and believed we would never come back to an all out war between super powers, surely the powers that be would learn from past mistakes… would not allow, ever again, the mass destruction, the horrors of war, because… NO ONE WINS. EVERYONE LOSES… isn’t this clear to all by now? Hasn’t history taught us enough of those lessons? Lately, it seems power and greed and corruption and ego are winning out over common sense.

Such a beautiful world we live in. The simplest truth is… every living being could exist here in comfort, in relative peace, in harmony.. together….having what they need. It’s absolutely attainable, if not for greed and ego. How very sad that we can ruin it for ourselves. This is where the idea of a divine creator is lost on me. What a cruel joke, to create a race that will probably eventually destroy itself based on those two traits. I want to believe good will always slay evil. I don’t think I have to touch on what we’re all seeing in the world news … lately, that scenario doesn’t seem likely.

Yesterday I paddled my trusty little red Kayak, Ruby, out into a choppy cove and let the wind and salt spray cover me. The warmth of the sun felt good on my skin… the rhythmic motion of the boat as we bobbed over the waves soothed my soul. Sunlight like diamonds on the waters before me… looking out into the Atlantic waters from the safety of our little cove… all I could think of was how healing it might be if I could instill that calmness, that appreciation of the beauty of our shared world, in the hearts of the men who can’t see beyond their own egos and greed.

I have been trying, lately, to avoid watching too much of the news – to refrain from spewing my disgust on social media… taking some advice from my son, the 21 year old who hasn’t been around as long as I have.. yet. “Mom, why get yourself all worked up over something you have no control over. It’s not worth the price, let it go“.

Like ego and greed, another simple truth, yes? Out of the mouths of not a babe anymore, but youth nevertheless.

So I’m taking more walks with my dogs…

My old boy, Ben, and I took a stroll last night in the fields just before dark. The sky seemed restless, moisture and humidity have returned and I wonder if this is the beginning of the newest hurricane heading toward the states. More stormy weather ahead….

I’m not religious, but I believe in the power of prayer – go figure. Praying for the safety of all in Hurricane Irma’s path – praying for the healing of our people all over the world – praying for sanity and good will to settle in the hearts of our leaders so that we avoid destroying ourselves in the pursuit of… Greatness? *sigh. We already have profound greatness…. beauty, bounty, resources. May we collectively figure out how not to destroy it.

Till soon, friends…

Hate when that happens..

…. When you walk into the (insert any retail store) in the middle of July and the Fall decorations are already out. Heck, around here the Halloween candy has been out for weeks. To underscore all this.. summer seems to have made an exit early here in New England. Notice my blog has a fall feel? Well this morning it just seemed like the right time to change it up a little as I dressed in sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt to feed the horses, chickens and rabbits.

Figures, our first season with Stella (the summer cottage), we’ve had unseasonably cool and wet weather. Seems like the summer just flew by, blink of an eye. Even lit our first fire in that fire pit the other night, toasted our first seaside marshmallows and I have to say, they were the best crispy burnt salty air marshmallows I have ever tasted. We’re squeezing in as much time as possible before we’ll need to close her up for the winter.

The remains of an osprey’s bluefish dinner on our waterfront cement dock… although I’d prefer to tell you I had a lovely waterfront chat with a mermaid.

I am encouraged by all the outpouring of care and effort on behalf of the people of Texas and Louisiana who have been affected by Hurricane Harvey. The destruction is heartbreaking, but the show of humanity, of outreach, of positive interaction amongst all is much needed and I hope it continues and the ripples of camaraderie blanket our country. We need a morale boost.

Till soon, friends…

The K List

First – my thoughts and prayers are with all those dealing with the flood devastation in Texas. In this day and age, with all the forecasting we’re able to do, how is it we still can’t evacuate people out of a very dangerous hurricane or tornado zone before it actually hits? I’m seeing images of elderly folk trapped in three feet of water in nursing homes, families still trapped in their flooded houses, animals drowned, electrocuted or sitting on top of kennel houses in pounds… How are we not able to secure the people and animals of an area before the disaster hits when we have the forewarning.

What we have here in New England right now is a down-right chilly end-of-August. It was 58 degrees as I fed the horses this morning. There were even a few fall leaves on the stone walls. I love fall, but NOT YET!!….

I actually made (Brenda’s) Taco Soup for dinner last night and an old Banana Bread recipe this morning to help cut through the chill. The BB recipe is as follows – real simple, never fails. Important not to over-bake it, as you want it really moist.

4 very ripe bananas (that’s important)

1/3 cup melted butter

1 cup sugar

1 egg

t tsp vanilla

1 tsp baking soda

pinch of salt

1 1/2 cups flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 1 loaf pan. Throw all ingredients in mixing bowl and mix well. Poor into pan and bake for approx. 45 minutes to an hour, depending on oven. I start checking after 40 minutes. When toothpick comes out clean, it’s done.

Sharing some pictures I took in our late summer garden

yesterday as I clipped back what was growing a little too wild

I found this perfect little two inch mushroom ….

and went back out there this morning

because.. this...

Till soon, friends –

Let there be Light

Last week because we hung around the cottage past dark before heading back to the farm, we noticed the solar lights in our neighbors yard and how beautiful they looked. So… a few days ago I walked into a nearby discount store and found all their outdoor solar light selections half price – perfect! These are the cheap variety, I’m sure you can spend more money on really good ones, but I’m proud to tell you I got these beauties for $2.50 each, on sale from $5. Since they’re made of mostly plastic I don’t have high hopes for their endurance, but for now to see if we like the effect it’s not a bad way to figure that out.

I stuck them in the ground immediately and with two days “charge” time, last night I made dinner for the guy and I down at the shore, cleaned up the dinner stuff… and waited patiently for the “show” to arrive.

It took a while… and briefly I suspected they really were just cheap crap and weren’t going to work.

Frasier wasn’t impressed either.

But just as I was packing up to head home, I saw this….

Which quickly became this…

And in those moments of admiring my half price solar finds… I was reminded of a few quotes that are particularly relevant in these uncertain times…

Till soon, friends..

The K List

*the K list is my lazy way of finding a post title for a real rambler. Here goes… grab a cup of coffee or tea if you’re willing to get through this whole post.

So.. when we bought Stella by the sea, we initially thought renting it out for a few weeks of the summer would be a grand idea because owning a second home, even a little one such as Stella… costs money. We weren’t keen on the idea of renting to strangers, but perhaps just people we know, or people who know the people we know.

Our first “guests” came to stay for just three days. We didn’t know them, but we knew their relatives and they are indeed a decent crew. Good way for us to test the waters, right?

The three days went by and the following day I returned to Stella to clean up. By “cleaning up” I mean.. I assumed… washing sheets and towels. Vacuuming and dusting and disinfecting bathroom just because “guests”.

What I found was a little different. There was leftover food left out and open on the counter. Empty drink bottles too. We have a white curtain on the inside of the bathroom door, which is an old glass pane door, so the curtain is needed for privacy. That curtain was filthy from little boy hands with dirt.. and blood. Bandaid wrappers also strewn. Thankful the cut wasn’t too big, apparently. One bed was left without being stripped, the other bed stripped and sheets left on our little Edith Chair with wet towels. On the chair. Wet. There were crumbs left on the kitchen table and the kitchen sink was filthy with some dishes left there too…

A lovely thank you l note was left in the guest book saying it was obvious we had put a lot of thought and time and creativity into resurrecting Stella, thank you for letting us stay. .

We won’t be doing that again. I don’t think the “guests” intended any disrespect at all, to be clear. I think they are just a little oblivious, perhaps due to their affluence or the way they were brought up. Someone else will take care of this. I’ll leave it for the service.

While my husband dismissed it as “the typical way people leave hotel rooms”… I don’t really think so. That’s beside the fact that our little cottage is not a hotel, not even a true rental property. When we stay in a hotel, before we leave, I put the wet towels in the bathtub or a neat pile on the bathroom tile floor. I make sure we have not left any garbage strewn about, including drink bottles, crumbs from snacks, papers, etc. My mother really didn’t have to teach me these things…. it’s just common courtesy. She probably did teach me that, common courtesy. People who work service jobs such as waitresses and waiters, bus boys, maid service in hotels, for example…. they deserve the respect of any other person – their job is thankless, truly.

Now that I got that off my chest… the stress that pounds my body when I take in the daily news has crescendoed and I am taking a hiatus from it.. just a peek here and there at the headlines instead of devouring it and trying to make sense of the nonsense. The world is going to have to sort this all out and I am just going to hope for the best.

We continue to enjoy Stella in between work hours and farm responsibilities. Most days I load Frasier and Sally into the car, we ride past farms and stop at the stands along the commute, grabbing some summer sweet corn, with tomatoes and cucumber salad from the home garden. We walk the little island roads down by the sea, and prepare a meal for whomever shows up after work at the end of the day. Occasionally we go for a swim when the tide is high. There is a long list of people we would like to host for a relaxing evening and seaside supper… That will take some time.

My nephews as we celebrated a birthday…

My son and I are the most avid swimmers…

To give you an idea of the difference in water level at low and high tide…

This is high tide. My son is standing, I’m floating.

At low tide, the water is at our knees in the same spot.

We don’t stay overnight just yet … often leaving in the peak sunset hour…. too many animals at home depend on us for their evening meal and tucking in. Someday when we have fewer animals to care for, we’ll spend summers living in the cottage. For now we’re very content to commute.

Meanwhile, back home… another farm market in the books – and it was a good one.

I bought this apron, it’s now hanging in my kitchen. One of our vendors makes aprons out of vintage feed and flour sacks among other things – I love them!

Mom and my Aunt, her sister. While the circumstances behind my aunt’s relocation are very sad ( her husband recently passed) , I love that they live next door to each other now and get to spend quality time together. If there is a heaven, my grandmother Elsie is smiling big.

Not only does my family support my farm market efforts by attending market and buying from local farmers and artisans… mom treated me to this recycled dress by one of my favorite vendors. Marylynne of BH Upcycle Designs uses old sweaters, t-shirts, sweatshirts to make new pieces of clothing like skirts, dresses, shirts, etc. This is one of those..

Speaking of Markets.. our September market will include an installment of The Kindness Rocks Project.. have you heard of it? I believe it’s happening in areas all over the country – but it’s in full swing for sure on our shoreline. People are painting rocks with words of inspiration or kindness and pretty designs and placing them in random spots where others will find them. They are showing up in places like post office drop boxes, town hall steps, benches in parks, on hiking trails, in doorways to shops, etc… My market partner, Linda, and I will host a rock party at the market – I’ve gathered smooth rocks from Stellas waterfront and painted them an undercoat. We’ll provide the paints and brushes for whomever wants to show up and create their own “kindness” and place it somewhere in the world for another to find. It’s the little ripples that fan out into the sea, creating change, right? Rock on..

These are a few that I have already sent out …. message on back, design on front.

These were found on the ‘net –

Great idea, no? Something positive anyone can do –

I’ll end this post with a few shots of my beloved coneflowers –

they are so happy this year – must be all the rain and humidity. – bleh.

Whew, that was a long one. Are you still with me? It’s a new day, all. Let’s not look at the newsfeeds. Not once. Maybe for a few days even. I need to stay put this morning and catch up on cleaning duties here at the homestead – This post is clearly a procrastination effort. I’m particularly good at that.

Till soon, friends –

Counting on that Pendulum

The following was shared with me by a family member who understands my struggle with this issue…. Hit the nail right on the head. Thank you Joelle Wisler for putting this out there for all of -us-.

The Stages Of Grief When Your Loved One STILL Supports Trump – by Joelle Wisler

I feel like it’s been about a thousand years since inauguration day. It’s as if this administration is literally like Russian (cough cough) nesting dolls and one horrible thing after another just keeps popping up in my news feed every day. I know more about the White House and its inhabitants than I would have ever wanted to know — the names, the faces, the firings, the drama, the downward spiraling, all of the nasty words said off-record that somehow become on-record.

And the tweets. Dear God, the freaking tweets.

And through it all, seemingly oblivious to the outside world that shines a spotlight down upon all the hate, my loved one still sits in silence and supports.

Well, they sit in silence around me, at least. Probably because I have a tendency to turn into the girl from the exorcist when our president’s name is mentioned. I just cannot anymore. I cannot. I cannot sit and listen to the whitest man in the world say that white men are the ones who are really discriminated against. That only English-speaking immigrants can enter our country. That hardworking, life-sacrificing, proud military personnel who happen to be transgender can no longer be in the armed services. That a lot of people don’t actually need health care anymore. That all news that isn’t overtly favorable to him is fake. That we need a see-through wall to keep “them” out. And all of the other things.

That everyone else in the world is less-than by his standards. I’m not here for it, folks.

So, my loved one and I don’t discuss politics, but a tiny voice inside me still mourns — for our relationship, for the millions of relationships being affected. It’s as if we’ve seen an ugly secret inside our friends and family members that we never knew about and it breaks our hearts with every tweet.

They are afraid of something. I assume supporters of his are afraid of something. Of minorities. Of women. Of anyone who is different. Oh wait, perhaps they fear the dismantling of white supremacy and the heteronormative patriarchy?

So in my grief (and bewilderment) at my loved one’s continued support despite the crazy world we now live in, here are the stages I’ve gone through:

1. Shock/Disbelief

Earlier this summer, I was driving through Las Vegas with my loved one when they said, “Look at that, Trump tower! It’s made of all gold y’know.” And I should have really won an award for the tremendous amount of self-restraint I showed in the next moments.

Because I did nothing.

I said nothing. I didn’t drive us off the road or start word-vomiting all of the facts and tweets and plummeting poll numbers. I just drove — not only because I was so shocked, but also because I knew I had to drive 12 hours longer with my loved one and nothing good would have come from me detailing a list of offenses.

2. Denial

Every piece of news I hear or read, I think, that’ll do it. A person couldn’t possibly support that. And my loved one keeps supporting. I can’t think too deeply about this because acceptance of the policies coming out of the White House says something fundamental about you as a human being. I’m in denial that I share blood with someone who can accept and support these things.

3. Anger

Once, in a low moment as I cooked dinner for my loved one and Fox News was blaring in the background, I said, “You know they are lying to you right now?” And my loved one said, “All of those other channels are fake news.” REALLY?! ALL the other news in the whole world is fake? How?! Why?! What?! And then my head exploded all over my freshly layered lasagna.

4. Bargaining

Please, please stop tweeting. Please?

5. Guilt

My 5-year-old crawled into bed with me one morning when we were at my loved one’s house. She said, “So I asked [our loved one] why they voted for that bad man.” My heart sunk a bit because I don’t want this to affect their relationship. Yes, I believe that he is a bad man. With horrible ideas and no self-awareness. But my kids are too young to worry about all of that.

6. Depression

My loved one and I used to agree about a lot of things politically. We both love our country. And I believed we agreed on the basic humanity of all people and in the underlying structure of America — that we welcome all, that our rights as Americans are everything and for everyone. But it feels as if Trump’s rise to power has let those who hold little black holes of hate and discrimination in their hearts speak freely with such vitriol. That, yes, America is the home of the free, but only for some people. Not those people. And that makes me unfathomably sad for our world, for where we are at.

7. Acceptance (and Hope)

My hope lies in a man’s hands named Robert Mueller. The truth is going to come out, and we are just going to have to wait for it.

I know I’m not the only one who has a loved one, a friend or family member, who has boarded the Trump Train and is unwilling to get off despite its inevitable drive toward destruction. Never have we been this divided, this ideologically far away from each other, this torn. People have divorced over this man, families have been split apart, holidays have become uncomfortable. There are those who simply can’t get past it. Those who’ve had to draw that “no contact” boundary because the divide is just too great. The hate that he doesn’t condemn is just too real.

But the pendulum will always swing both ways, so with hope, I try remember this and look forward to 2018.

Just Sayin

Where do we go from here

If you’re not living under a rock here in the US, you know what just happened down South. Brief recap in case you really didn’t see it… Some assh*le plowed into a crowd of protesters standing up to a wh*te supremac*st hate group at their rally. That assh*le was another holier-than-thou wh*te supremac*st who apparently had nothing better to do than to kill one truly decent human being and maim at least 7 others critically.

Sadly, but expectedly (and that’s even worse), our commander in chief blamed “all sides” for this violence, and made sure no one could blame him, adding “this isn’t because of Obama or Trump”.. ( LOL, really, dude?) But…. but… and here’s the important part… he did not denounce, until two days later after he was called out on it by many sources… the haters who actually committed the violence and murder. He did not name them until today. He tried to peg it on violence from “all sides” Why? Because he knows they are part of his base supporters. Kinda like Russ*a. And ain’t that a scary, scary deal.

Regardless – Why so much hate among those people? They weren’t born with it. Perhaps they were raised with it, I don’t know. What I do know is each and every one of us bares some responsibility to help right that ship. It might take ten thousand days and ten thousand ways… but each of us can do something, somehow, somewhere… to say we are not those people. We will not tolerate intolerance.

If you are reading this and you have racist tendencies, stop the nonsense. If you’re religious and a racist.. LOL.. well, there’s a bit of irony, huh? not sure how you rationalize the hypocracy in your own mind. We are the sum of our actions, not the sum of the pigment in our skin, the origin of our ancestors. The history of the white man is not really something to be proud of – we enslaved people, took them away from their own culture and literally enslaved them to do our dirty work. We slaughtered the people who were here before us so that we could take the land they were living on. Hell, slaves built our President’s home! (you know.. the dump.. according to 45). And.. how can anyone.. anywhere.. knowing the horrors what were N@zi, Germ*ny…. idolize such a thing. So unbelievable and yet very very real – that in this day and age, we’re still dealing with this ignorance.

If we were living in the days of slav*ry, if we were living in N@zi Germ@ny, what would you have done then? What are you doing now….

Lately, it feels like we’re being assaulted in so many ways… and this ain’t no snowflake complaining here. What are YOU doing to combat what’s being thrown at us from all angles? We’re not getting reinforcement from the top, hell no. So I guess it starts with all of us.. .at the bottom and up through the middle … let’s do this… let’s be the light in these dark times… Any suggestions? I’d love to hear your words, your ideas on positive action, positive change.

True Beauty

What does true beauty look like? Do you think it’s Scarlett Johansson or Rita Hayworth or Daisy Duke or the Victoria’s Secret model of the month? Anything I see in Vogue magazine just looks weird. What’s up with that?

When I was the younger me, I wished I had what was considered more “conventional” good looks. I didn’t fit the usual molds, and I surely wasn’t looking inward at all for beauty – I was looking at my not-blonde hair, my not-quite-green eyes, my thicker-than-I’d-like thighs, my small boobs, what I thought was short chubbyness at a mere 118 lbs. (OMG, that’s seriously mental).

I remember sitting at a bar with my very blonde blue eyed tall legged friend, who was attracting all the attention from the guys. One of my favorite Carly Simon songs includes this verse… Me and Penny… twinkle like Crystal and Pennies… two hot girls on a hot summer night, looking for love….. That was us. She was the crystal, I was the penny. ..but you knew that, right? and then this… Thanks for introducing us… Dwight said polite and I waved goodnight… I wondered why it wasn’t me… I guess it’s just that the time’s not right… I can’t tell you how many of those nights occurred, but I can tell you they stung and to this day I remember the pain.

It took me many years, and into middle age to appreciate what I was given without wishing for something different. What a waste of precious time. It took yet a few more to learn that true beauty comes from within. It’s not the external “stuff” we manipulate and fuss over so. That may be the icing, but it’s not the cake. No.. the cake is truly liking yourself, let alone love…despite any flaws – and we all have them. Being contented in the life you’re living, being grateful for all that is good in your world, acknowledging what’s less than perfect but moving forward in a positive way despite obstacles.. and remember, no one is obstacle-free, despite the picture you might see from the outside looking in. No one can do this for us, either. It has to come from within. So… why ever not.. give yourself that gift?

The younger me never smiled in photos because I thought I had an unattractive, unnatural smile. So with my guarded “smirk” I looked sad, withdrawn, looking at the camera lens warily, not embracing much of anything at all if you believe that snapshot of an instant.

In this middle middle age, I have come to embrace the act of smiling, laughing out loud, letting the photo be snapped, taking some selfies even! I am so much happier than I ever was when I was “the perfect weight”, wore makeup, my hair was full and shiney and youth was on my side. Real beauty shines through at any age when you set yourself free from all those negative thoughts, when you allow yourself to just be, do, live. Who were we trying to impress, anyway? Ourselves? Well then, let the inner critic be damned – so that we may live happily ever after.

This beauty recognition extends beyond just the self – I see it in others – I see real beauty in the face of a generous soul, a happy, contented soul , a kind soul- inner and outer – regardless of what criteria their physical being meets.

I doubt I have young readers here – but if by chance I do… love YOU now, not later. Embrace your life because life itself is a gift – and for heavens sake… smile big, laugh often , Love.. much.

For my friends who stop here now and again- I hope you’ve come to love you too. I hope you allow others to photograph you, and I hope you smile big in the process. Love this life with all it’s imperfections – in particular, love you.

The K List

Pickles wrapped in bacon – Yuck, right? Nooooo.. it’s the bomb!!… Seriously, try it. All you have to do is grab a jar of your favorite dill pickle – either the little whole ones or the long slices… and wrap them in bacon – maple bacon especially! … bake them in a 425 oven in baking dish of your choice until bacon is done – about 20 minutes or so.. ovens vary. oooh man, are they good. Make a dip of your choice to dunk them in, even better.

Little Sally is part of the family now, all the dogs get along, although there are the occasional sibling jealousies. And K’s new pup, Rex is just a love bug – already adored by us all. For a brief little while I said to myself several times a day….. What.. Did you DO!?…. but I’m over it. I just love her, and so does the husband (BIG bonus right there). I think I can say for certain though, not doing a puppy again. Adult dog adoptions only from here on out.

We’re having dinner tonight at my daughter’s condo…

we’ll get to play with this adorable scruff too.

In between farm and work related chores and errands, we’ve been scooting

down to the shore for dinner and a swim…

I have a little plaque down there on the wall that reads..

The Ocean Fixes Everything

I do believe it’s true.

Isn’t this a cool idea?… bird bath – glass top, sand and shells – BOOM

Awesome seaside table for porch/ patio/sunroom..

I just finished a great read – well written, fascinating true story. I highly recommend it for all my book loving friends – Thanks, Hilary.. for the recommendation. I’m looking for the next great read – what’s on your nightstand?