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!"

We Remember

Happy Armistice Day!
And on the 11th hour, of 11th day, of the 11th month in 1918 silence reigned! Today, we call it Veterans' Day.

Today I'm thinking about three veterans close to me: Leonard, Don and Steve. Thank you for your service.

This is a page from one of Mom's scrapbooks that she told me I'd need someday. She was right again.

“Photographs don’t discriminate between the living and the dead. In the fragments of time and shards of light that compose them, everyone is equal. Now you see us; now you don’t. It doesn’t matter whether you look through a camera lens and press the shutter. It doesn’t even matter whether you open your eyes or close them. The pictures are always there. And so are the people in them.”      Robert Goddard

November Sun

Early November brings cool mornings and bright sun to the living room windows. They are good mornings and afternoons to move wood, and that's just what I'm doing. I'm making my way through 2 cords. I'm stacking it out back in the woodshed and quite enjoying the chore. Every fall, I do. Don't we all have some mundane activity that we wonder why we enjoy doing it. I think it all started for me when that big maple next to the garage got damaged in a storm and Dad had it cut down. Dad, my brother and I cut it up with a two-man saw, then split it up with an ax and some steel wedges. Then the pile of wood was my brother's and mine to stack.
I think it all began then-- my love of stacking.
Do you have a seemingly boring activity that you love and can't explain?
Please share.
I need something to read today.
The Patriots are on a bye week.

Sectionals

I've never been a big fan of murals. I've posted a few over the years, but have always felt kind of dirty about doing it. This one is on the backside of the Oakhurst Dairy plant next to USM. I don't get excited about glancing at buildings and seeing pictures covering brickwork or other type of siding. Many will comment on these sectionals, against this slate sky and say they love it. They might add that it's quite attractive, given the alternative. Call me a traditionalist when it comes to this sort of thing. I really just want to grab one of these bikes and ride away.

Last Ride

Summers during my collegiate years, I dug graves. No, I didn't like them, I actually dug them! I worked at the largest cemetery in the city and one of the oldest in New England. Over 5 years, I had lots of jobs. I pushed a lawnmower for 8 hours, ran a weed whacker, tooled around the acres on a riding mower, cleaned grave stones and many days rode around keeping the foreman company. But without a doubt, if you wanted the hours to race by, duty on the grave crew was the place to be. You see, since many of the sites were very old and unstable or a tight squeeze for the backhoe many of the holes had to be dug by hand. From marking out the site to getting the concrete vault into place took just under 4 hours. Was shoveling for 3 hours with a partner hard work? You betcha! We partnered up-- two shovelers in the hole at a time, 20 minutes or so at a shift. At the very end, when only your head was visible, there was only room for one of us at a time. When I 'rode' on the truck, I was the youngest of the crew and became the butt of many jokes. However, with all the stories tossed around by the old timers, some of the unique situations we faced and items we found, they were some of my most memorable days.
Could ya dig it?
I did!

Patio

I took a side trip through a backyard the other day and came upon this fall scene. This two family looks like it's going to spend another winter alone. There were not too many abandon houses in our neighborhood. Pretty much, the big brick multi-family, one house up from us, was about it. When football games, apple fights and building forts had run their course, it was time to make our way into this big ol' brick wonder. Yes, the back, side door was locked. No, we did not have access to a key. Do I really have to go into this further? Suffice to say, we made it in. The building was a mess. It was completely gutted and needed work in every room, every floor. It was pretty much an unexciting visit. Well, I did catch Linda and Billy kissing in the back stairwell. I wasn't a participant, so it wasn't all that exciting.
A short five years later, they were married at the Eagles Club in Westbrook.
The first member of the gang to 'fall'. 
Leo followed, a year or so later.
The last time I saw them was on their wedding days.
And to think it all started, kissing in an abandon building.

Cry Innocent

I went to see the play "Cry Innocent" last week on my trip to Salem. In 1692 Bridget Bishop was accused, by the town folk of Salem village, of witchcraft. The audience takes on the role of the Puritan jury, and they hear various historical testimonies throughout the 45 minute production. There is an active audience participation role, where questions are asked of the judge and various witnesses. At the end of the trial, the audience becomes the jury and gets to vote of whether Bishop walks away 'innocent' or not. This entertaining theatrical work is put on by the theater students of nearby Gordon College.
Just another case in point of the destructive damage that the evil twins, rumor and innuendo, can wield in a small town.  

Dated Stone

There are times when you can see the writing on the wall, and days that it's anything but clear. Want to take a stab at what we're looking at here? Can you hear the Jeopardy theme playing in the background? If your answer was: "What is a old gravestone, Alex?" You are a winner!
Most of the grave sites in this cemetery are hard to read, as most are pre-1700s. This one looks to be some sort of dark sandstone. Over the years, this type of marker doesn't take the elements well. 
It was found at the Charter Street Burial Ground, known historically as the Olde Burying Point in Salem Massachusetts. It is the second oldest burial ground in the United States. 

*This photograph was taken last week, on a visit to the town pre-Halloween.

3 Little Birds

"Don't worry about a thing
Cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin: don't worry about a thing
Cause every little thing gonna be all right!
Rise up this mornin,
Smiled with the risen sun,
Three little birds
Pitch on my doorstep
Singin sweet songs..."

Yes, it's a Bob Marley classic, but I have my reasons this morning. Back on December 4, 2012, the Red Sox made a seemingly innocent acquisition of Shane Victorino, the Flyin Hawaiian. However, I do believe on this day the fortunes of my Sox turned around. He and Johnny Gomes were my two favorite ballplayers all summer. Don't ask me why. They just were. I was always a bit down if they weren't going to be on the field that night, especially at Fenway. In my eyes, they were the 'sparks' all season long. Now, why the song? Each time Victorino stepped to the plate, this tune echoed around the Park. Toward the end of the season and on to the World Series run the crowd started to sing along each time he came to bat. It always has been my favorite Marley song. 
This spring and early summer, 'three little birds' made their homes in my woodshed.
Did the fates have a hand in the Sox run to the top?
Shane got 3 RBI in Game 6.
A bit strange????
I do think they knew they were welcome here.
* play the song... you'll sing along too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaGUr6wzyT8

Seconds

It was my second choice.
I was going to use this image for theme day, but I thought better of it. 
This is a shot taken at the bottom of the Portland Observatory, looking straight up. The building has been around since 1807 and is the last surviving maritime signal tower in the United States.  Before radio communication made it obsolete, the tower, standing 86 feet and octagonal in shape, was used to signal ships with both a telescope and various flags hoisted to provide information for and about approaching ships. Today, it is maintained by Portland Landmarks and is open throughout the late spring and summer for tours. I've heard that neighborhood children were once allowed free rein and could play all day up and down its 7 stories. That would have been something. This 'playground' would have put most of my forts and treehouses to shame. Since my first trip up the stairs on a high school field trip, I made the stair climb a few more times.
What a view!
As you might imagine, it's the best 'take' on the city.

*I took this photograph in a strong, afternoon sun. It's a bit funky how the bottom got rather washed out in color.

Downhill

The Hill is a prominent piece of real estate at one end of the city. If you arrive there, you will be standing atop the highest point in the city and looking over the harbor and out across Casco Bay. It's called the Eastern Promenade, Eastern Prom for short. It is a feature that, if you are visiting the city, you really must see. Arrive at the other side of the city, and you'll be looking out over the Fore River on the Western Prom. Prom to Prom--- kind of distinctive, if you ask me. Another interesting mark of the city can only really be seen via a map. The city's design looks to be in the shape of a forearm and fist. 
Take a look at the link below. 
The nun, that first showed it to me in fifth grade after school one day (don't ask), said it was because Portland was a tough city?
Got that right. 

http://www.mappery.com/Portland-Maine-City-Map

Theme Day: Heights

How 'bout them Sox?
Well, if it's the first of the month, then it must be Theme Day across the citydailyphotoblog (cdpb) community.
Where do I go with Heights? Until last night, I had a few possibilities, with most of them centering around looking up to the tops of buildings.  But at 11:22 PM last night, everything changed. For the better, I might add. The Boston Red Sox defeated the St. Louis Cardinals 6-1 in the sixth game of the 2013 World Series and took the baseball classic 4 games to 2. Amazing, all through my formative years the team always seemed to be at the bottom of the pile. Nights in my stifling, hot bedroom I'd listen to them suffer through 9 innings and lose, lose, lose. I got used to it. I never expected them, in my lifetime, to win anything. But in 2004 all that changed. It happened again in 2007 and now again this October. 
What's happening here? 
Three championships in the last 10 years? 
Dynasty?
I don't want to be greedy, but this is feeling is quite WONDERFUL!
Reaching new HEIGHTS today!
My Red Sox are 2013 World Series Champs!
Yippppppeeee!