Wouldya, Couldya?

Wouldya

let a faded red canoe linger through a Maine winter

along a pebbled driveway

its tears longing for a summer river,

or remove a classic colonial

from a town square,

board by board,

lug it 90 miles Downeast

and leave but a foundation

and a broken-down

piece of a man garage,

or cut an oak down on the front of your house, til it stood only 20 feet high,

with but 8 forearms shaking violently and cursing the heavens,

or establish a clothesline in front of your house

just five feet from the main drag

and share with the world all your 'unmentionables' and more,

or spend hundreds of dollars to decorate your yard

for the season,

while what looks like the entire contents

of your trailer are strewn across your property

Happy Xmas to all,

or destroy a beautiful downtown park

because you want to survive a Maine winter

in tarp-covered tents

99%?

Do the math.

Wouldya?

Hey, the world keeps turnin'

Sometimes I want to get off!

Seaside Ferris Wheel

What's the situation?

These days I can usually handle any situation that arises. It wasn't always that way. Early in my formative years, there were situations that left me in a panic. I don't think I slept much that night before we square danced in gym class. We were told the day before by Mr. A, our macho gym teacher, that the boys would be choosing their partners first. After taking the roll, he quickly lifted the heavy, blue plastic screen exposing a line of girls, equally in a panic-city mode as well, I'm sure. I was one of the last to select that morning (quite shy, really), and to this day I thank God for two things that happened. One: petite, cute, blonde, Ellie was still 'standing'. And two: when I asked she smiled and nodded. She was a straight A student, who seldom uttered any words at all. But that smile and nod spelled relief to me that winter morning in seventh grade.

Adult situations don't necessarily put me in panic. I usually can handle them, even if it takes me awhile. But I've recently started an almost 3 week 'run' with Elenka in Florida... YIKES!

Eastern Cemetery

I took a casual stroll through Eastern Cemetery the other morning, before my second cup of coffee. Located on the Hill looking out upon the harbor, Eastern Cemetery is Portland’s oldest historic burial ground. Just a short walk, through the sometimes knee-high grass, tells you that it holds the remains of many politicians, early military heroes, those that chose a life on the sea and other early inhabitants of 'the city by the sea'. All interments were ceased here in 1858, and in 1973 was it was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. A local preservation group, Spirits Alive, was formed in 2006. It conducts tours throughout the spring and summer and works on upkeep of the grounds and restoration projects. This group has plenty of work ahead of it. That's the old North School in the background. It's a rainy Saturday around here as Danny passes nearby. Good day to clean the attic!