Window Look

Who am I, really?
Here are a few hints.
I did a lot in 2013, but here are a few things that I did not do or even attempt------

I did not go on a diet.
I did not take a 'selfie'.
I did not attempt to 'twerk'.
Did not twitter.
Did not use any #birdmans.
Did not watch one episode of "Walking Dead".
Did not go to a movie theater.
Did not buy any iTunes.
Did not wish that I was in any way related to anyone named Kardashian.
Did not get a dog.
Did not eat lamb.
Did not get a tattoo.
... and don't think I'm heading in any of these directions in '14.
Enjoy your night and kiss 2013 Goodbye!

* I did do something though. I continued to post here every day. Haven't missed a day since 12/31/08. 

Snowfall

I just took this photograph.
We got 5-6 inches last night. It started about 6 and was all over by midnight. It's the wet, sticky stuff that my snowblower really dislikes, especially the crap that get piled up at the end of my driveway by the town plows. All this snow has got me thinking about the Winter Olympics in Sochi. Notice, I said 'thinking' not getting excited, at all.   You might catch me watching a bit of ice hockey, maybe some downhill skiing or toboggan runs, that's going to be the extent of it. Elenka, if past Olympics can be a measuring stick, will constantly have the TV on watching the opening and closing ceremonies, figure skating or anything else that might catch her fancy. My guess is that it will also be the 'white noise' that will fill our family room while she is maneuvering around Pinterest.
Do you plan to watch some?
What might peak your interest?
Women, in tiny snow outfits, don't count.

Resilience

The Apple Blossom Special ain't running through here this morning. Choo Choo!
I like to ponder situations and environs when they are caught with different looks, feels. Apple trees coated with ice. A comfortable home caught in an ice-lock without power for nine days. That was us in '98. An upheaval on the job that tosses your day up on end at 6:50 AM. An emergency on the road where split-second decisions can sometimes have lives in the balance. Put humans and or nature, for that matter, in a cloak of difference and the results most often bring forth resilience.
Next April, life comes back in this apple grove... stronger.
It always does.

Icy Spruce

Surprisingly, even with lots sunshine yesterday, the spruces up back still are coated with ice and new fallen snow. It has been a pretty picturesque backyard these last few days. Last night I ventured into the city and took in a couple of the Red Claws Holiday Basketball Tournament games with Marchin and 'annie's mom'. Growing up, it was always a sort of a rite of passage that after all the toys, games and new skates had been tried out, it was time for basketball. In my youth, basketball was king and although football and ice hockey have made inroads in the state, I still think it is. These games are always fun to watch, because they often involved games with teams across classes. You can still see some of the best high school teams in classes A, B, C on the same floor. That doesn't happen very often. In the nightcap, a couple of the best teams in the state Falmouth and Bonny Eagle squared off for bragging rights. It was a pretty entertaining game with Falmouth jumping out to an early lead and never looking back in a 66-55 win.
If you like b-ball, it was a pretty good place to be and out of the frigid temps for a few hours.
Jump ball!

Ornament

It was such a fine day. It deserves a replay.

It was a day of Bruce's many bottles of wine
Georgette's funny stories and smiles
J- winning at Chronology
Donna's red spiked heels
Bonnie's salad and clementines
Marchin's entertaining us with 'smart ass' 
Peter's wide-range of historical trivia
Yelena's French easel's appearance
Paul's humorous interruptions and questions 
Christian's calm before heading to NYC 
Joanne's wonderfully touching toast
Elenka's amazingly choreographed feast
Birdman taking it all in among great friends
We lingered into the darkness together longer then most years
Call it Christmas 2013 

'Twas a special day, amid a room adorned with a sparkling tree dressed with many memorable ornaments reminding us of our past.

Iced

We've had a little ice-in.
Parts of the state spent Christmas frozen in without power, but we were spared that hardship. The ice came here about two days ago and has stuck around. When you get temperatures, with highs for the day in the teens, that's bound to happen. 
I survived my trip to fill the bird feeders yesterday morning, although I did get temporarily impaled by a sprig of a pine needle in my hair.
Otherwise, it was a day of family and friends. Lots of laughter, toasts, memories of Christmases past, and a delicious holiday repast. The 'crowd' seems to increase a bit each year. I say the more the merrier. Elenka, with her task of feeding the masses, is not so sure. 
J- gave me a beautiful, gold tie with squirrels artistically rendered in its design.
He knows me.
It's an inside joke.
I HATE squirrels! They actually think I trudge through the deep snow, in frigid temps, just to appease them. 
It's Christmas.
I can tolerate them for a few hours, I guess.
They are very lucky.
If I had a .22, I'd send them on vacation to 'kingdom come'.
I shouldn't say that.
Bad Birdman!
After all, it's Christmas.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

I guess I wasn't the only good boy this year.
The BIG guy at Longfellow Square got a little something from Santa too. One Christmas Eve many, many Christmases ago on Stevens Avenue, I really did hear reindeer on the roof and someone banging around in the living room when all was dark and 'not a creature was stirring'.
After many years of hearing about it second hand, we finally made the 10 PM Christmas Eve service at the Cathedral Church of St. Luke last night. It was a late evening, but one filled with incense, pageantry and carols.
Merry Christmas to all!

Santa?
Of course, I still believe!

Special Eve

When I caught sight of this red stone home lost in a recent snowstorm in the city, I could think of no one but Ebenezer Scrooge and that 1843 Dickens' novel. As a matter of fact, I even looked fast to see if that door knocker was present. Over the next few days, I know I'll pick up that book and read a section or two. It's just the sentimental in me.
Enjoy this holiday season; however you celebrate.

ps. Santa, I've been a very good boy this year! 

Copper Beech

The lighting of the Portland Museum of Art's Copper Beech Tree was an event we took in on a yearly basis when J- was growing up. The tree was lit December 6th this year. The festivities began with carols sung by local school children and choral music of the Vox Nova Chamber Choir. Soon after, the large group made its way out to the Joan B. Burns Sculpture Garden, picked up lighted candles, found a place to stand under the flowing tree, and ran through some notable carols to keep warm. Finally, the time arrived, the countdown was made and suddenly the white lights flashed into service. Although these days, there are lit trees all around the city, this one still holds a spectacular distinction well into January. Late nights in December and January, it's always a bit soothing to turn out of your way, make it to High Street and take a turn by this beautifully shining tree.
Tis' the season. 

Gold Ribbon

I've got questions.
Did I just wake up and now the entire ballgame has changed? Did someone pull a Rip Van Winkle on me? What's the deal with all the golden ribbon this year?  It seems to be everywhere. I must surmise that gold is the new red this year, at least in my travels. Now, if you want it amid wrapping paper, I'll give you that, but on church doors and such? Will you give me back my RED? Well, I guess it has just taken the route of colored lights on trees. Growing up on Stevens Avenue, it was all about those big, fat colored lights strung among the green boughs. These days, it's all about white lights. I see them inside houses all over, as I drive at night. White, white, white! Even our tree, white! I can live with white, though. A tree, surrounded with small lights, makes a warm, enticing and soothing scene. So, I'll give you the lights.
But the gold ribbon?
Someone's going to have to do a bit more selling to win me over. 
I wonder what Santa's take on this is?
He's a big 'red' guy.
By the way, ya I've got some time on my hands.
What's it to ya?

Happy Winter!

Dad used to regale us kids with stories about what blizzards he endured in the ol' days on city streets. "We did this, and we did that", he's go on and on. I didn't have the heart to tell him that our feats of danger in the snow were equally death defying. One of the most exciting tricks was hitching rides on the backs of slow moving city plows. If the snow was just right, especially with recently added icy conditions, we'd ride for blocks around the neighborhood waving to the girls. 
We cool!
We went to see the Snow Queen by Hans Christian Anderson last night at Portland Stage with my sister and brother-in-law. I was excited all day, really looking forward to seeing the production. The ads in magazines were glossy and eye-catching. The pictures of the 'queen' in the show was stunningly, beautiful. My review? Don't bother. Pass. Looked to be some terrible meeting of Monty Python and some lopsided fairytale told in 7 stories. Well, at least I could feast my eyes upon the beautiful queen, right. Wrong! She was drab and a very plain-Jane.
Where's Heidi when I need her?
Oh well, the party tonight, at a friend's home has to be better.
If not maybe I can catch a ride back home on the back of his pick-up. 
Just for ol' time sake.

White Veins

I've photographed this wall before but never caught it quite like this. If you hit the pavement early, you can find gems like this. I'm hoping to ease into these last few weeks of 2013 with some festivities of the season. I think I'm going to be checking out the newly renovated Top of the East at the Westin Portland Harborview this weekend, and a party or two heading towards the 25th. Christmas Day will be at our house. I like it that way. No worry about the weather.
The 'mountain comes to Muhammad', so to speak.
After the big day, a game or two at the Expo Holiday Basketball Tournament will probably be on my schedule.
A bit of work too.
Don't want to lose my touch.

Snowy Gates

Many friends ask me where I take  my photos, and when I take them. Well, I like early morning. No news there. I think most of you know that about me. Most of my photos, unless otherwise noted, are taken between my back door and the city proper. For example, today's image was taken last Sunday morning in the middle of our 14 inches of snow. I actually stopped in the middle of the road and took it. Another reason 'early' works for me is that that the streets are relatively empty and uncluttered with traffic. It's easy in, easy out. For the most part, at least one of my Nikons is attached at my hip and at the ready in my daily sojourns.
This cemetery is a special place for us. Mom and Dad rest here.
Cemeteries are notable pieces of our lives.
For me, in a strange way, they are extremely rejuvenating.
Fountains of life.

Snowy Blur

Ok, I've been accused of doing many things during my daily affirmations. I have also been addressed by many titles, most of then on the positive side of the ledger and lots with hilarious repercussions. But I'll tell ya one thing, sister. I've never, ever been called or accused of being a geek. And if I ever got to boppin' around in one of these goofy mobiles, you better hope I'm not 'carrying'. I might resort to hurting myself. Luckily, I have a fine friend well-versed in the area of computers who I can run to.
And good news, he ain't a geek either. 

Snow Cover

This is one of my favorite trees around. It stands tall and proud, amid the frigid temperatures this morning. Just about everyplace in Maine is below zero this morning. As I type these letters ahead of me, it's -3 outside my kitchen windows. Brrrrrr! What was it about the frozen weeks before Christmas that made delivering 70 odd papers pleasurable? There always seemed to be a week or so of frigid stuff, but no matter. I was always on my nightly rounds. Cold weather seemed to always bring delays of the delivering the stacks of papers to our pickup stops. It was fun for a change, delivering the last stretch of papers in the dark. It was freezing outside but toasty warm in my parka The delay provided a fresh look at the lights decorating the inside of homes on my route. There was an excitement in the air in every house, and a certain buzz evident, that was missing just the week before.
The feeling was warmth all around.
So this is Christmas...

Frozen Bottles

I like my old bottles.
I like them better filled with water and delicate flowers, then with ice.
I was doing a little cleanup on the porch before the storm yesterday and caught sight of these three. I had forgotten to drain the water from them, and I almost had a small disaster on my hands. Is there such a thing as a little disaster? Anyway, I would not have been a happy man. Little mistakes like this often drive me crazy these days.
I often can handle big screw-ups more easily than the little things. 
What's up with that?

Dirty Window

Here's a quick look out a second floor dirty window at work. Dirty windows really don't bother me, especially when they don't belong to me. I'm kinda of a neat freak. Now, I know Elenka is chuckling as she reads this, but I am. The area of disagreement centers around what I'm neat about over the long run. Now, if you are looking for a gent with good personal hygiene and a wearer of neat well ironed and pressed clothes, well I'm your man.  On a quest for someone whose life and desk are perfectly organized, with every paper in place? You might want to start your search elsewhere. The jury's still out on this one. Do I get points for trying? Didn't think so.

Today should be a guilt free day.
Hide the honey-do list!
Take some images of the 8-14 inches of new snow.
Load the wood stove.
Do a little blogging.
Watch the Patriots. With all the injuries, Jack, I fear the Fish today.
Load the wood stove.
Take in a bit of vacuuming, and help pick up the house (my sister and husband are coming for the holidays).
Listen to some Christmas music.
Throw some snow around the yard with my snowblower.
Load the wood stove.
Eat turkey.
I hope this is the better part of my day.
News and photos at 11.

Red Berries

This next week or so, I plan to share how a simple man attempts to enjoy the season.

I'm up early this morning. I've got some things to do. I light the tree and go around and put the window lights on for Elenka. She likes that. Next, I'm outside to fill our birdfeeders, a storm report of perhaps 8-14 inches of snow headed our way can do this to a Mainer. I like doing this. The chickadees thank me. Back in the house, Elenka is up and we both settle, she with a cup of tea and some yogurty, concoction that she claims is 'breakfast'. I'm going with a cup of coffee with some eggnog added. While watching some eNews about Chloe Kardashian( why, why, why have we made this stupid family relevant)  filing for divorce, I hear Elenka utter these holiday wishes my way. 
"Twitter should be shot!"
Ah, now there are some seasonal words of love! 
No, I don't send tweets. (Hey, there's even a Twitter Help Center.)
No, I don't Facebook. People of the World should be so happy with this. At this point, you'll find little sympathy here for that 'mutual admiration society'. 
No, I don't instagram.
No, I don't do any sexting. Sheesh!
No, I don't Snapchat, Skype or iChat.
No, I don't do FaceTime either... bags are not allowed, I hear.
Is my life complete?
I don't even know what that is suppose to mean.
But I am happy.
I'll be enjoying this bitterly cold and snowy weekend with some pre-holiday spirit. 
Mazel tov!

ps No, I don't Pinterest or Manterest either. I knew you were thinking that.

Pawn

Ever bought anything at a pawn shop? I never have. Then again, there are many things I've never done, places I've not entered and don't plan on touching in the near future. There are a couple of these shops in the city. This one's at Woodfords Corner. It gets a lot of vehicle traffic daily, but I don't know how many pull over and walk through the door. A few years ago, I read a story about how there was going to be an explosion of pawn shops given the economic times. I don't know about where you hang out, but around here it never happened. In high school there was a kid whose dad ran the only one in town. Many years later, there are now just a couple.
Quite an explosion! 
I do enjoy that 'reality show' on cable, Pawn Stars.
It's the closest I'm going to get to a pawn shop.
I find it hilarious at times.
What a family!

Noted

Note to Self-
Pick-up m-bread, froz bl ber, p-butter, wet cat...

Piece Work is the name of the 2013 Portland Museum of Art Biennial. The show is the eighth in a series of juried exhibitions showcasing the work of new or recent work of living artists. This banner, hanging over the entranceway advertising the Biennial, shows a very small piece of the combined work of artists Adriane Herman and Brian Reeves. It's called Dually Noted, and it's composed of what looks to be some 500 or so sticky notes in all shapes, sizes and colors. The installation covers an entire wall as you enter the Great Hall area of the museum, just inside the main doors. The messages that I took the time to peruse ran the gamut from the mundane to the sublime, nothing more or less than I have covering my work area around my desk. I wish they had asked me for a contribution or two of my 'leftovers'.
I have some real doozies.

Wheelbarrow

"So much depends upon a red wheel barrow..."
I would love to have been looking over the shoulder of William Carlos Williams, in 1923, when he penned this classic. So simple. So complex. 

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

This former 'red' wheelbarrow of ours is a well traveled device. Mom bought it when she moved into her new house on Bancroft Street in the city. Elenka and I helped her spread loam and seed her front yard. It's not the most rugged of barrows, but it has survived. These days Elenka uses it to transport plants and such around her gardens. That wheel is wobbly, but otherwise it survives, with dents, rust and a couple of holes, in its 'retirement' home.

Woodshed

Don't the wrong idea. I didn't split all of this by hand. A wood splitter did most of the damage. The ax helped with all the kindling though. Call me crazy, but I like to do some splitting of wood in November. I used to get my wood in tree lengths right off the logging truck. Starting in the summer heat, I'd cut,  split, and stack it all, but those days are long gone. We do like that ol' wood stove chugging away during winter storms and cold January days though. This is our woodshed. For three seasons, it's an opened-faced lean-to that gets a lot sun, birds, garter snakes, mice, hornets and a skunk once. It's quite a menagerie. When late fall hits, all but the mice have left to warmer spots. When all the wood is stacked, I have a large brown tarp that I attach to the front, protecting all within from the nasty elements of a Maine winter. I completed that task this past weekend.
Maine winter...
Bring it on!

Valley

So, I'm parked on Valley Street, looking up. Any idea why they call it Valley? Pretty easy, huh. Basically it's the street between the Western Prom (look up) and water of the Fore River behind. As you might imagine, this time of year is the only time you can see all the way to the top from this point. Leaf cover, you know. I like the view up all along this thoroughfare, and the roadway is well named. Long ago, the city fathers made a smart choice when they pushed this road through. Valley, it certainly is. Creative too. A+ for effort! Don't get too excited about those 'great minds' quite yet though. Now, when naming the four streets going from Valley to St. John Street, they must have been caught in some alphabetical time warp, because they named them, are you ready for this: A Street, B Street C Street and D Street!
This is not a joke.
I think it's mind-boggling.
Years and years and now years later, they are still A, B, C, D.
No change.
I say, give these neighborhoods some class.
Give 'em real monikers.
Names they can be proud of.
This continues to be a real head-shaker for me.
Can ya tell?

The Lineup

We got our tree yesterday. Pretty much right on schedule. We usually target the weekend after Thanksgiving to get a tree and put it up. Everyday this past week, it seemed, someone was waving a cell at me and asking if I wanted to see their tree. Based on this unscientific theory, it seems a lot of trees go up once the turkey is cleared. I asked a friend at work where they got their tree and she told me, "It's been a tradition of ours to cut our own at a Christmas tree farm." She said she's been going to the same farm in Dayton since she was a little kid, and now she still lugs her family there. If I was getting our trees at the same place I did as a kid, I'd be in jail every December. This I truly believe. You see each December my Dad would throw my brother, me and a good, sharp crosscut saw into the station wagon and head off to Cumberland. He said he had a friend out there who told him we could cut any trees on his property. I didn't believe him, based on Dad's seemingly clandestine approach he had in his eye, as we scouted out mile after mile of woods and fields. All of a sudden he'd brake, pull over onto a gravel pull-off and exclaim, "There it is!" After about 20 minutes of trudging here and there, the deed was done. The imperfect tree got attached to the roof, and we were off. I'd like to say this is how we got our tree in the wilds of Maine yesterday, but that would be an untruth. We bought our Fraser for $35, where we've bought our tree for the last 5 years or so.
We've had good luck there. Last New Years, the tree was still going strong with not a real loss of needles, and with a woodstove cranking most of the month, a drying tree can be a real issue.
So, you have good luck?
Creatures of habit always return to the well; we did.
It sits this morning in the family room loaded with decorations and memories from past Decembers.
Perfect!

Early Snow5

Here's a look at Longfellow Square in a thin cover of  ice on lighted trees. Covering trees from head to foot in same colored lights is the latest holiday fad, I guess. It reminds me of that saying 'nice to visit but I wouldn't want to live there'. I enjoy walking under and around them through January, but I wouldn't want to see one in my yard. White lights in the windows, a lit garland around the front door, a spotlight on the front door till New Years and a wreath with lights above the garage doors, is how we decorate the outside. That's enough! Oh, and last year, we placed some white solar lights on a little fir outside our back windows. When we're home, this puts us in the spirit of the season.
Hold on.
It's coming!

Early Snow4

Luckily, the birdies that use this birdbath flew to southern climes weeks ago. Ok, that was a lie! I tend to lie to myself a lot. You see, I have never, ever seen a bird taking a little dip in this cement basin. I'm sure they have been in it, but I've never seen any action in it. I've seen a couple of chipmunks taking a most treacherous trip around the edge, but that's about it. I always get a kick out of the PEANUTS comic strip when Woodstock would take a skating misadventure across a frozen birdbath. This photo reminds me that I've got to flip this top upside down and get it on the ground this weekend.
Gotta find a mousetrap too.
Ah, that's another story.
Oh, and I might be firing my two cats also.
Details soon.

Early Snow3

It was 4:00 AM this morning and I was vaguely up. Elenka was in the same state and turned on TCM. An old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' movie was flickering across the screen. I think it was "The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle"(1939). 
Each year the early dusting of snow was a harbinger of another long winter in Maine. Elenka and I came from different places. I filled my winters with Old Maids with brother and sisters, attending high school basketball games at the Expo, hockey games around the kitchen table with pals, meetings of the Skeleton Club, and countless nights of sledding under the stars. Elenka growing up in Parsippany, NJ, on the other hand, filled lots of her hours dancing, with sister Judy, as Fred and Ginger. 
I guess that made her time fly by.
I hope it did.
Me? I didn't even know of this dance team until years later.
We both had fun; I guess.
Boys and girls. 
We were different.  

Early Snow2

I think this is Oakdale Street. As you can see, it has been flurried upon. Delivering papers on mornings like this was a blast. You had the continuous feeling of just slip sliding away. It was early, and my footprints were the only ones in town it seemed. On days like this, my bike still served me well. It always seemed to go a bit faster and had the tint of danger, as I braked and skidded about at every corner. That added to my early morning 'adventure'. When the snow got deeper in January, an old banana basket rescued from the local A&P and attached by wires to a small sled, provided just the device to give my shoulders a break and allow me to 'run' my paper route quite quickly. Now remember, for me, getting my route done as fast as possible was paramount.
Once, I delivered all my 75 Press Heralds in about 22 minutes.
I think that record still stands.  

Early Snow1

This past Sunday---
Got some ice. Got some rain. Got some serious snow flurries. I had a little trimming, near the kitchen window, to get done, and I got that completed on Saturday. As you can see by this shot, I guess I forgot to get my equipment back into a snug place for the winter. Over the next few days I'll post some photos of what things looked like around here after the early flurries.
For anyone not familiar with me and my relationship with snow, here's a primer.
Yes, it's pretty.
Yes, snow days as a child were very fun.
These days?
Snow falling on December 24th. Yes!
Snow cover on the 25th. Yes!
That's it.
Game over.
Not that long ago, we got 36 inches in one blizzard.
Not fun.

Plow Truck

Some days I really wish I had one of these. Well, at least from December through April, I wish I had one sitting near my driveway. Then come the end of April it could magically disappear and return the next year. Ya, I know I'd get the calls during big storms, friends calling favors, but I could handle it. You see, the idea of another winter of snowblowing my driveway is beginning to get old. I could sit in the cab all toasty with the heat  going full blast, with the news blaring about how bad the storm was going to be, a cup of java at the ready, and I'd be perfectly content. As a matter of fact, I might run the plow up and down the tar 3 or 4 times just to make sure everything was clean.
This ain't a dream.
I've thought of the idea lots of times.
I'd just need a place to hide it for about 7 months.
Of course, with 10 acres or so I might be able to find a place.
Would it be worth it?
To keep an uninspected truck and plow up back in the trees, away from Elenka's eyes.
Impossible!

Theme Day: Looking Out

Do you think it's easy? Looking out at the world from this point of view? Laughter. Ridicule. Sarcastic side comments. Rollin' of the eyes. Fingers pointing. Heads shaking.

Today, December 1, is Theme Day across the CityDailyPhoto (citydailyphotoblog) community. Sometimes, I struggle with the theme. Sometimes, it comes right away, although boring. I attempt to search out the theme seen from a different slice of life. Sometimes, I feel I fall short of the mark. At other times I sit back and release a small grin. I always run the theme by Elenka, whether I have a photo in mind or not. I don't like boring. I like to try to get a different slant on the subject. I certainly didn't want any shot of the camera looking out a shop window, if I could help it. I had an idea at the ready for this one. Since I've been stacking and chopping wood for awhile. I was thinking a 'chopping shot' with an alarming cry of-- LOOK-ing OUT!
Then Elenka said, "Hey, just shoot you and the bag, and get it over with."
Here I am 'looking out' at the world. 
Playing a bit of hide and seek.
Grin.

Hill Light

Morning sunlight breaks over the Hill in the city this morning. Since we wrestled the turkey into submission at Alan and Sylvia's, I haven't been out and about very much. I've been keeping a low profile, which for me can be challenging at times. We did not take in the Christmas tree lighting ceremony at Monument Square last night. We usually do to help ring in 'our spirit', but both of us have had our fill of that Bubblegum band that provides 30 minutes or so of holiday music before Santa arrives. My advice to the city fathers? Switch it up, baby! Variety is the spice of life as they say. If so, you might get us back next year. As for this year, this morning light on Back Bay will just have to do.
I like this photograph.
It's not the same as the tree, but...
the bulbs never go out on it.

End Game

Well, the calendar doesn't have to notify me. I can hear the not too far off  echo of  the upcoming winter hoofbeats. I'm reminded that it's still 3 weeks away, but the thermometer out side the kitchen window reading 13 F above this morning provides me with a pretty good hint. It'll creep up to about 22 this afternoon, but that's about it. No mas! Some days, I have to stop and wonder why I do this. I'm sure my friends in southern locals are probably chuckling a little reading this. Will retirement find us moving? It hard to say right now. When pressed, Elenka and I will both tell you we HATE the cold, but... 
There is a pull.
I really can't explain it.
Don't provide reasons why or why not.
I've heard them all.
I'm torn... at least today.

Gobble, Gobble

Happy Turkey Day!
Hope everyone has maneuvered around and are where they need to be today. This year, we are staying put here in Maine. We'll be sitting down for a mighty repast  later this afternoon with family and friends here in southern Maine. And I can promise you a few things. I won't be breaking down any doors doing any 'black Friday' shopping. I won't be doing any 'hunting' for anything other than white turkey meat and all the fixings on the table. I won't be stacking wood. It's done! I will be sampling every type of pie that makes it to the table. I will be glancing at TV for a hint the Macy parade. I will be watching football. I'll be cheering for the Lions, Raiders and Steelers. 
I will burp.
I'll hope to say excuse me though.
Last words...
Don't panic.
Don't go crazy!
Enjoy the day!

Bus Life

Here are a few school buses taking a little rest. See, they deserve a Thanksgiving break too, I guess. My school 'bus life' ended in Second Grade. Up to that point, I rode a bus to St. Joseph's School all by myself. I look back on that experience and marvel a bit. Would my parents let me to that today? I bet not. A mother today would probably drive me everyday. Of course, back then our house had but one car, like most. So that wasn't really an option. So, I rode. We moved from 1023 Washington Avenue to 820 Stevens Avenue the summer before Third Grade, and life changed. It was and area with lots of kids, and we all walked about 1/2 mile to school. It was fun! A bunch of us all walked together, picking up friends as we passed their houses. We did stupid things! We built mini forts at the foot of trees out of tiny sticks on the way home. We stopped by to watch college girls play field hockey. We chucked snowballs and chestnuts, in their prickly coats, at each other and trucks. I even got to go home for lunch and spend some time with Mom. It was a great neighborhood to grow up in, even when it came time for the school bell to ring.
Sister Delores, on that back step, ringing that big bell, meant it was time to 'freeze in place' and move to our grade lines, when the second bell sounded.
It was a simple time. 
Ding, dong, ding, dong! 

Squash

I want to squash any rumors right now.
It was said as a joke.
I was asked yesterday what I was planning on bringing to our Thanksgiving dinner with friends.  Squash? Turnip? Pecan pie? Some stuffed cream cheese celery? 
My response?
I said I'd really like to bring Heidi Klum, but I said I'd settle on two six packs and a pecan pie. Well, in reality, I'm bringing the 'sixers'. I'll leave the pie to Elenka. She does pie very well! As a matter of fact, there isn't much in the kitchen she doesn't excel at Turkey time or not.
Me?
What do I do well in the kitchen area? I'm thinking hard on this one. Want me to be brutally honest?
Eat!
There, that's about it.
Well, let me be real here. 
After I've visited the nut dishes sprinkled around the room, sampled the cream cheese stuffed celery, I'll settle on eating some yellow squash that's smothered in butter. You see, after the bird, I'll vote for the squash.
That is...
Does anyone have Heidi's cell number?

Table Two

Saturday morning we headed out early to get breakfast at the Good Egg. Interesting place. For the breakfast crowd it's called the Good Egg, but by late afternoon it takes on the appellation of the Pepper Club. This is the breakfast menu on the table. As you can see, it's long and fully packed. If I've learned one thing from the reality show Restaurant Impossible, keep a menu short and uncomplicated. This one is not that. However, I did order a spinach Eggs Benedict with a side of home fries, that I devoured. Quite delicious! Elenka took on a vegetarian hash, that she said was very good also. After a few errands, we were home by 11 and ready for an afternoon of continuing buttoning up the house. They are saying a chance of some significant snow or just heavy rain here Wednesday near the coast. We want all the little odd jobs taken care of before the snow flies or rain hits, and we sit down for turkey.
Don't want to take any chances.
Trying to get work done in snow ain't fun.
Gobble, gobble, gobble.

Out of Focus

I don't say this often, but I will right now. I can't wait until this weekend is over. 
It's still not clear at all to me, and the event is over 50 years removed.   For the last week or so our airways have been bombarded with the JFK retrospective. It's getting a bit hard to take. The politics of the time, Honey Fitz, PT 109, the Walter Cronkite broadcast, Dealey Plaza, Oswald, Jack Ruby, the pink dress, summers at the Hyannis complex, John-John and Caroline running around the Oval Office and, of course, all the conspiracy theories. Enough already. 
This is what I know. It was sometime after noon on November 22 of my Sophomore year, and I was in the library at Cheverus High looking for a book, when an announcement came on the PA system. The Principal said the President's motorcade had been shot at in Dallas, and news reports were saying that President Kennedy had been hit. We were told to say a prayer and that school was being dismissed early. I remember thinking- what is happening? As I did each day, I walked the entire length of Read Street, about a mile in length, totally confused, alone and wishing that it was all a nightmare. At the top of Read, I dreaded my cut across to Arbor Street, because I knew I'd have to pass the fire station and that flag flying atop it. I had this sick, in the pit of my stomach feeling, of what was in store for me. As soon as I could, I searched out for the flag. And there was depressingly, limp at half staff and my wishing, wondering and hoping was over. I walked in the house, and I heard the distant hum of the TV. Mom, in tears, met me in the kitchen and filled me in on the latest out of Dallas. She told me life would never be the same. And she was right again. The guys met that night, shooting baskets, playing 'Horse' in our driveway and going over the events of the day. We talked about a lot including the upcoming high school basketball season, but what we had lived through that afternoon was foremost on our minds. I fell asleep after midnight, listening to my radio and staring at the flickering light on my ceiling, trying to make sense of a senseless event. The weekend was spent mostly glued to our black and white in the living room. Yes, I saw Ruby shoot Oswald on live TV, our President lying in state, and the ever-somber news broadcasts over and over. Monday was the funeral and a day off from school. There was no excitement there. I took it all in, maybe 12-15 hours. The rider-less horse, the haunting sound of the clip-clop of the horse's hooves on pavement, the ever-strong, black-clad dignified, stoic Jackie and John-John's salute.
It was a weekend that changed us all in ways we can't even begin to comprehend.
That 50 years have passed from that afternoon is mind-boggling to me.
I lived through it.
Even now 50 years removed, the replay is difficult to watch.
Still out of focus---
Life moves forward though.
But some memories are still tough to take.

Stone Steps

One of my favorite movies is What About Bob. Whenever I come across it, I can't help myself. I have to take in a few minutes of it. There are lots of movies I do this to. In the movie Bob Wiley (Bill Murray), a man with lots fears, sees a psychiatrist (Richard Dreyfuss), who has just published a new book called Baby Steps. From that point on Bob is forever, it seems, uttering the mantra "Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps...", whenever his life gets complicated. It's a pretty hilarious flick. However, in this sometimes complicated, zany, 'go, go, go world' we find ourselves in these days, it's not a bad, simple utterance to have at the ready.
Sometimes, when you just have to slow the entire mechanism down a bit, 'baby steps' ain't a bad way to start.

Duck Invasion

During the two weeks each summer that I was stationed at Nana Summer Camp, an afternoon trip to Woodlawn Cemetery was always in the works. We'd grab the stale bread bag, Grampa and head out on a short drive to the cemetery and pond. Like in this photo, the invading ducks could be quite aggressive, but luckily hiding behind my grandmother's old lady dress was a good refuge. 
My grandfather has been gone an amazing 53 years this past summer. I still remember walking into the living room on Stevens Avenue and seeing my Mom, grandmother and aunts all in tears. Probably, the first bit of information that I ever received in my life that I just couldn't process.
It was my first brush with death. 
I think of that man often.
Mostly, when I see scenes like this.

Changes

I don't mind making changes.
However, when I stop and think about it, I don't make a lot of monumental moves. Here are a few to think about this morning. Same home since 1977. Been at the same job, same building for coming up on 41 years. Somewhere in the late Sixties while attending college, those British punks, the Beatles, took on moustaches. I thought they looked pretty cool. So I tried one. Then a magical moment took place in my life. 
While at a local watering hole, a young lady approached me and said, "Oh my God, you look like McCartney!"
Game. Set. Point!
It was over!
I've had one pretty much since that night and for sure have not shaved the upper lip since 1974. Few changes here. I do like routines. I like to think I ponder long and hard on major decisions, like house and job, but 'stache? 
File this one under just another example of the powerful pull of women!
Am I alone here?
Anyone ever done something like this for a member of the opposite sex?

Apple Caper

This is a real who-dunnit.
It's an apple caper, if you will.
My question: how the heck did this half-eaten apple ever get to the top of this birdhouse.
Some early responders were: 

Madge said, "a crow or raven."

TexWisGirl commented, "squirrel?"

Jack(the jester) replied, "You put it there. Fess up."

Come on. Get creative. I think I know the culprit but... make me smile.

Whimsical feet

These feet make me grin. I like to think I'm a fun kind of guy. Elenka alluded to it in a comment yesterday. Each time I visit my dentist for a cleaning, I like to pick up a few odds and ends. You see my hygienist has a box of toys she generously offers the children, if they survive her 'cleaning'. I always take a look and pull out something to show off at home. If I had a dollar for every plastic dinosaur, rubber truck, friendship bracelet, parachute guy, racecar keychain, a tiny kaleidoscope, a miniature whistle, a squishy ball, rubber frog, a toy slingshot, a magnifying glass, a dragon finger puppet, a plastic camera, a compass, a small motorcycle, a spinning top, and a couple of those toys where you try to maneuver the little ball bearings into the eye spaces of a clown, I might be drinking free coffee till June. Last trip I brought home some sort of twistable super hero. I think they are very cool.! My hygienist, I must say, seems to get a kick out of seeing what prizes I choose to tuck in my pocket.
Elenka is not so impressed!
In her mind just another piece of crap for one of my many junk drawers that I refuse to clean.
Lots of things make me smile throughout my day.
These whimsical shoes do.
And a new tiny race car spinning, mightily off the kitchen table headed for a life of doom does.
Fun, fun, fun!

ps. Yes, I checked last night, and I still have all of these dental trinkets and much MORE.

Littered Steps

Here's a hint for those of you who have never shoveled snow. You really want to make sure that you've raked all your leaves off the walkways you plan to remove snow from next month. Leaves that are not removed make for a very messy cleanup of fallen snow. Fall's yellow beauties like these, left behind when winter's wonderland comes dropping in, become nothing more than the beast, when frozen and mixed with whiteness. Can these steps still be cleared? Sure. Is it possible to shovel snow and leaves together? Sure. 
Does tidiness haunt me daily? 
I guess you haven't seen my desk at work.
As Elenks might mutter, "I guess you haven't ventured to his many junk drawers scattered about the house".
Let me 'leaf' you with this thought this morning.
I rather hate leaves come November.
They makes for messy work.
And I never have cared for the leaf- snow dichotomy.
My theory here: outta sight, outta mind.
Let it snow!

Morning Trestle

I like Sunday mornings. I try to get out early, before 7 and grab a coffee to go at the head of the street. Elenka claims I've had my camera in every section of the city, and that's probably true, but that doesn't keep me from coming back. You never know what you might stumble across. Here's an early morning sight travelling across the Route 9 bridge and trestle coming back from Falmouth. The light was special this morning, and the bridge was empty.

Greenhouse

This greenhouse is located at one of the city's alternative high schools on Allen Avenue. The programs offered run the gamut from automotive technology to woodworking with just about everything in between. Horticulture is one of those in-betweens. They offer a wide array of classes for students wanting to spend some quality time with plants. Now, the only time you find me hanging around a greenhouse will be in the spring, while we're picking up seedlings for the garden and hanging plants and such for the yard.
I enjoy the smells in these buildings, but not the creeping up of pricing.
Greenhouses: I've learned my lesson about glass houses! 

Yellow Splash

Growing up, fall was a special season. Yes, it did signal that I was back into the school grind, but it also meant burning piles of leaves in the street in early November, before the snow would fly. On Stevens Avenue, we had quite a few maples and even some towering elms, before they all died off, that left our front and side lawns cluttered. The entire family did their part raking the leaves into the street or into the long driveway. We got them into large piles, stuffed newspaper into the bottom and got ready for a night of tending the fires and the sweet aroma of burning leaves. I loved that smell all over my clothes, and the fact that Dad gave me the responsibility of tending the fires well into a school night. The next day, in Ms. Storer's English classroom, I'd sniff my flannel shirt sleeve, and the smoke smell would still be lingering, as I took back the memory of the previous night's fires.
The kid, inside of me, holds tight to the sights and sounds of those late fall evenings.

Donuts

I like donuts!
Want a different way to start your day? How about trying a chai glazed, bacon and cheddar, dark chocolate ginger, strawberry glazed, chocolate & sea salt, glazed sweet potato, mocha glazed, roasted pistachio, pomegranate or a tart cherry? Well, these are all donuts that can be purchased at the Holy Donut. The shop on Park Avenue has been open for about a year now, and customers are lining up for their early morning fix. By the way, all their donuts are made with a mashed potatoes mixture. My donut of choice, regardless of where I am shopping, is the venerable chocolate coconut. Last Friday, I sampled one of these at the Holy Donut.
My review?
It reminded me of a decorated cupcake.
It was fine, delicious.
Let's move on.
A Bacon and Cheddar?

Practice

Still life on newsprint.
Things are not always what they seem.
At first glance, this might look like a watercolor. It did to me. However, on closer examination, you'll probably pickup on the fact that it's just some black ink on newsprint. The color is just what is on the newspaper page behind. It just showed up one day on the easel in the kitchen-- a bit of J's work.
I'm quite guilty of shooting from the hip at times. The results, many times, are not flattering. Often a ring of apologies follow and some sort of inner statement to myself that that will never happen again. Guess what? I usually can't help myself, and sure enough, I find myself talking without thinking again.
Sometimes, if I've committed a large, social faux pas, I'll get some 'constructive criticism' from a close and personal friend.
... and that's a good thing.
You see, when it comes to figuring me out, it's often a puzzle.
But at least, I think, the pieces are all there.

Pumpkin Going

"Psssssst!
 Hey you!
Ya you! 
Come over here. 
Listen, I survived Halloween, because this nerdy kid's parents took me inside to look out the window on the 31st. I guess they had a fear that I might end up splattered across the street out front. It would probably have brought the kid to tears. Now that the festivities are over, they leave me out every, freezing night and all day for that matter. And I do feel that I'm starting to sag from the inside out. This morning, I thought I saw and smelled a bit of stomach rot. It was black, and to tell you the truth, it wasn't pretty! It's been two weeks, and it really doesn't look like I'm heading for any pumpkin pie nearby. So, will someone please pick me up and just heave me?
Cripes! Please put me out of my misery.
I don't want to end up rotting on this kid's doorstep.
It would be the epitome of embarrassment!"