Morning After

There was a dusting of snow the other night. These four horses, covered with blankets, tried to keep warm hangin' in the early morning sunshine. They were quite interested in what I was up to walking near their corral. Here's a tale I'm reminded of looking at this scene. A local family, a quick walk from our house on Stevens, kept a donkey with a outbuilding for cover against the elements. Often we'd secret(can I use that as a verb? Twain did.) ourselves through a pathway, across the railroad tracks and come up right next to his corral. Now, this animal wasn't nice. He was an ornery beast! It was always hee-hawing at all hours of the day and evening, and if you got near his pen, he'd always seem to want a take a little nip out of you. One time a gal, of not more than 5 or 6, when visiting the yard with her sisters, got picked up, tousled about and thrown into his stall. He took some bites out of the child's head and shoulder. Luckily, someone jumped in and pulled the girl to safety and an ambulance was soon on the scene. It was some scary moments for the family of that child. Soon after, the donkey vacated the premises. That burro was a real Ass!

Work Gloves

Nearby a ceramic kiln, these gloves stand by to do their job. Not that I spend a lot of time around a kiln, but I have suffered from cold hands most of my life. I think it all started back when I thought it was so cool to go without mittens and gloves back and forth to school. I also seemed to always come in from play with cold extremities and wet mittens. I spent lots of painful minutes trying to thaw out on top of our big radiators. In later life, doctors tell me a lot of hours running my chainsaw didn't help my circulation much. So I struggle a bit now with Raynaud's Syndrome. I'm paying the price; basically, it's a pain in the fingers. Now that I think about it, it would really help things if I did spend my winter days hanging around a warm kiln.

Eternal Rest

It is a magnificent building both inside and out, but I have visited it, over the years, way too many times. The Conroy-Tully Crawford Funeral Home sits on State Street quite close to Mercy Hospital. If memory serves me right, I do believe the first time I set foot within the front doors, with Mom and Dad, was for the wake of a childhood friend TG. He was 19 and passed away do to kidney complications and in the end failure of the organ altogether. As I remember, it all happened way too fast. We boys had no idea he was sick and had struggled with this illness since birth. Eddie and I did get in to see him two nights before he died. When we were leaving, Mrs. G- came up to us outside his room, and she was in quite an emotional state, crying terribly. I was confused to say the least. Two days later, I understood. I'm sure we've all had similar events in our teen years. This is one unpleasant memory that won't leave me, and I guess that's a good thing. No kid this young, with a world yet to unfold, needs to leave this world so early. And let me be a bit selfish for a moment-- no teen of 17 needs to suffer the loss of a dear friend at such a pivotal point in his life. Peace.

Independent Spirit

In the city, lots of the snow has disappeared, but don't fret. It will be replenished soon. Saturday, next week... it's coming. I do appreciate this lone leaf's independent spirit, lurking in the undergrowth. Just as soon as the snow flies, I say pleasant dreams to Mr. Leaf til April.

Stairway

Here is a curving wall and stairway leading to Masterson Hall on the campus of the University of Southern Maine. This building's design and wear is in stark contrast to yesterday's shot of the 3 story tenement on Valley Street. Like most small cities, Portland has an interesting blend of buildings that are the old and the new, the historical and the eye-sores, the abandon, and the lived in. This is one of my favorite structures on the Portland campus. I think it carries a nice look inside and out. A while back, I received my Master's Degree here in the city.

Rear View

Off in the distance, an edge of the vast Maine Medical Center lurks. One year ago today, I awoke confident(from a prep day) on the 4th floor(it was my first night EVER in a hospital), but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit hesitant about the clock reaching noon that day. At the appointed hour, E- and J- bid their emotional adieus, and orderlies wheeled me into the operating room for heart surgery to the sound of Springsteen and the E Street band off in the distance. I looked above me at a clock that read 12:08 PM, and that was it. The next thing I remember, it was 12 hours later, and I was begging for slices of ice from a nurse named Katie. She called me by name and said she'd be with me til dawn. I was very uncomfortable ( I felt I was twisted like a pretzel) but on my way to recovery. Today, I've reached the 365 day mark, and I continue to push on, upbeat and positive. As the sign on your rear view mirror reads... "objects may appear closer than they are". Live for tomorrow and for those you love!

Ft. Williams Swing

Really now, would you put you kid or grandkid in this swing? Take a close look at it. Yes, they look like stains of some sort to me. At 820 Stevens Avenue, my grandfather made us a large, wooden swing set that ended up being the local hangout days and nights through the seasons. I mean it was big. He used two telephone poles to anchor the main system. As I remember, there were 3 swings to take your chances on. At night or during the day, it was a wonderful place to 'hang out' and just shoot the breeze with friends. Who was going out together? What were our plans for tomorrow? Want to sleep out? Who was the better Williams or Mantle? I loved that set of swings. In eighth grade Ms. Storer had us memorize a poem and give a brief story about why we chose the poem we did. I picked "The Swing" by Robert Louis Stevenson. To me, it said it all. By the way, I 'nailed' the memorization, talked a bit about what we kids did on the swings and mentioned the great work by Grampa. But I'll tell ya, Grampa wouldn't let my butt touch this contraption that I found at Ft. Williams Park. Ha!

Moose Antlers

On the UNE (University of New England) campus on Stevens Avenue this "Made Moose" looks skyward into a rainy morning. As I've written before, I spent a lot of time, in my youth, on this campus, when it was Westbrook College, and in the cemetery nearby. I know it would be hard to believe, but back then a little mischief and a bit of trouble often found their way to me and the boys. You've heard of miniature golf; I'm sure. Really, I thought 'cemetery golf' had a real chance to make it. Funny. The superintendent of the cemetery thought otherwise. The Art Gallery building now sits upon land that use to be the field hockey field. I stopped by often, on my way home from Lincoln Junior, to watch the games. I didn't quite understand the rules, but those gals running around in kilts were to die for, even back then. Ah... I could dream.

Take Stock

New Years Day is always a good time to STOP and take stock. As we get older, we tend to more and more be like Janus, of Roman Mythology fame. His two faces served him well. They gave him the power to look back at where he had come and to see ahead towards the future. Me? I like to think I've learned from my past experiences, mistakes as well as successes, and look ahead towards uncharted waters with excitement, tempered with caution. It's what I was taught as a child, and it has served me well. My resolves for the coming year are few but so very important to me and the ones I love. I'll continue to follow a simple credo: Make a plan; Keep to the plan; Plan for the unexpected.
*This photo was taken recently behind a warehouse just off Canco Road. These, now abandon tracks, used to lead to a crossing known, in the area, as Hell's Gate.

2010 Photo of the Year?

Can you select a best photo of the year? Is it really possible to answer this question? How about this one? Of all your children, which one is your favorite? How can you possible choose? As a matter of fact, this time of year on TV: news, sports, entertainment, etc. is filled with my bane-- looking back at the year in review. I dislike immensely the year in retrospect, or anything(including music) that is prefaced by the words: "Best of 2010". So when looking back at my photos of 2010, I stopped in March-- the 16th to be exact. I give up! I can't do it! I detest this job I have to do. Oh well, next year, I'll probably just post a new picture. A Resolution for the coming year? I've got to stop complaining in '11.
This March shot, in the rain at Monument Square with the lime umbrella, is a favorite.
By the way--- Happy 1/1/11

NYE 2010

One of my favorite places in the city has always been Longfellow Square pictured here at twilight. The statue of the poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, is sitting in his chair just off to the right in this view. I picked this scene to help me celebrate 2 years on the CDPB. I have not missed a day since December 31, 2008. When I started, with a post of the stone bridge in the Oaks during a snowfall, I wondered if I could do it every day. My goal back then was one year, and now look I'm at 2 years and counting. Thanks to all who have checked in and offered their thoughts. See ya tomorrow!

Oaks Snow 2008

Snowy day in Deering Oaks-- Portland, Maine.
"Often I think of the beautiful town, That is seated by the sea." H.W. Longfellow

Shadow Tree

Recently, here at the homestead, we redesigned the look of our family room, that is filled with glass towards the back woods. Where there once was a love seat with its back to a row of windows, a comfortable chair and ottoman are now situated. Resting in that seat now gives you a whole different vantage point to view our little world. In life these days, I enjoy routines; I tend to shun changes. I wonder why that is, because really repositioning yourself on that crowded 'merry-go-round of life' can be just the boost you need to reinvigorate yourself. While making coffee the other morning, I noticed shadows falling on the field near the frozen apple tree. Most of the time, shadows don't lie.

Colorful Chairs

Out in the back hallway at Longfellow Books at Monument Square, these stacked wooden chairs wait for their next chance to 'perform'. While taking our annual afternoon stroll to the Old Port to take in the sights and sounds of the holiday, we took refuge from the wind and cold here among the books. Most of us would be hard pressed to find a bunch of colorful chairs like these. After all, aren't we all stuck in a world of gray-metal, folding devices?

Lady in Red

The aftermath. Hey, if she begs me to use my snowblower, who am I to protest... much! The fierce winds remain, but most Mainers spent the day yesterday digging out. I was ready, willing and able but was told to stay put. I obliged.

Nor'easter

No Mercy! That was the deal over most of the Northeast yesterday and all last night. Here, the first flake fell in the yard at 5:24 PM last evening, and it's been snowing and blowing since. My weather call is that we got about 8 inches, but right now the howling wind and heavy blow is the issue. The woodbox is full, the woodstove is up and doing its work, and thanks to Elenka, Mom's fish chowder is on the menu for the day. Keep warm!

Morning After

Here at Portland Head, gifts have been exchanged, the wrapping paper has been discarded, toasts have been made, carols have been sung, the festive repast has been devoured, hilarious stories have been told, and good friends and family have departed. Its quiet once again. As Dickens once famously stated, they "knew how to keep Christmas well." And now the year moves forward to its conclusion.
btw- BIG white headed this way tonight and tomorrow.

Christmas Time

There was a time. Merry Christmas to all. Peace!

Lights Up

A beautiful day is birthing just beyond the glass in our family room. A stonewall is now half covered with new fallen snow, while iced-over branches of evergreens sparkle in the rising sun. The stage is set. Actors hit your marks. It's Christmas Eve! On Stevens the the excitement began as soon as my feet hit those cold wooden floors. "It's Christmas Eve! It's Christmas Eve!" I'd shout it about the house, even though I knew it was hours away. Growing up with lots of kids in the neighborhood, I always enjoyed inquiring about their Christmas Eve and Christmas routines. How did they celebrate? Who would be there? Did they have any Christmas traditions, like a special ornament or food that was baked? Did they ever hear Santa or reindeer on the rooftop? After hearing all their refrains, I knew that we had the BEST of all. Mom and Dad did it right, so simple, so memorable, so family! Merry Christmas to all.

Bah, Humbug!

Bah, Humbug? It was anything but. Last night, our family took in Portland Stage's production of Dickens' classic "A Christmas Carol". With work, the rush, rush to get final shopping done and ideas on the mind on cleaning the house and cooking for our upcoming get-together with family and friends on Christmas afternoon, it was a stress-releasing way to spend 2 hours and really get that feeling of the season. As snow fell leaving the theater, I think I could finally say the the 'feeling of Christmas' seemed to have made an appearance, even in the world, where the dangers of ignorance, want and the need to help others is still so much in evidence.

Harness Bells

excerpt:
"He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake."

Is there a better New England winter poem than "Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost? The Norton Farm provides wagon rides through the Old Port these days leading up to Christmas. If you're riding, carol singing is a must. We know this is true. Growing up, J- loved these seasonal wagon rides. So mom and dad were on board for quite a few rides over quite a few years. Giddyup!

Morning Walk

This time of year, it gets kind of crazy. Time, time, time. There just doesn't seem to be enough of it in the day. Off on an early morning stroll along the Boulevard, this gal and her 'fido' have lots of time to reflect on life and plan their day. Let's listen in: "Gosh, it's really freezing out here this morning, Is Birdman's gift wrapped?, Gotta get me a bag of salt and vinegar chips, I really don't like Shelly's new haircut, Do I look fat?, Am I really up for a drive to NH in the snow this afternoon?, There's an eclipse tonight?, Wait til Mom finds out I paid $70 for that tree, Is that Statistics' final really today?. And fido? food, food, food, food... I'm going to find some 'me time' today and just RELAX! Ah... By the way, this scene looks a lot different this morning with 2-3 inches of snow on the ground.

Beyond Shopping

Pretty much it was a given. If it was the week leading up to the 25th or Christmas Eve my brother, sisters and I were busy making paper chains for the tree. Why my parents never hid the colored construction paper or just didn't say 'cut the crap' or 'enough already', I'll never know. I don't think it would have worked anyway. Building those chains was addictive. Ya, we did the strings of popcorn too, but it was these paper jobs that we had the most fun with back then. And as I remember, one of us kept eating the flour paste Mom made. I think it was my brother. To this day, each time I see these hanging or groups of kids putting them together, I think back to Stevens and Coyle and smile a bit. But art? These white ones fill one of the front windows at MCA (Maine College of Art) on Congress Street.

Holiday Bridge

Yes, we did get a couple of inches of the white stuff early last week, but the heavy rain of Wednesday took it all away. This walkway above Congress Street is not a bridge to nowhere. This is a bridge to somewhere. It connects some MMC offices to a parking garage, below the main hospital complex. And by the way, these decorated windows look a lot more festive at night when they a lit by the inside lighting and oncoming traffic. And for those of you not familiar with the city, no, it's not a ghost town, but it does have the look on an early Sunday morning.

Comin' At Ya!

This past fall many of the nearby islands suffered severe damage from quite a significant wind storm. Peaks Island was one of the hardest hit. The other morning at East End Beach, this logging truck was waiting to pick up a trailer of timber delivered from the island. The downed trees looked to be some mighty big spruce. I'd advise, if you see this number barreling down the highway at you, move aside and give her a wide berth.

Nature's Way

See the tree? See the Christmas tree? I saw it right away. Sometimes I have trouble with optical illusions and such, but not this time. It jumped right out at me. I found it on one of the back ponds at Calvary Cemetery. What do you think?

Wreaths

The Wreaths Across America project is very much a part of Maine. "The Arlington Wreath program was started by Morrill Worcester (Worcester Wreath) in 1992 with the donation and laying of 5000 Christmas wreaths to Arlington National Cemetery. This became an annual journey for Mr. Worcester." I was visiting Calvary Cemetery the other morning and saw quite a few wreaths decorating the stones. Looks like this project has taken off locally, as well as in Washington.

Down River

Here we are at Stroudwater Marsh heading into the city. This is another view I enjoy. Portland Jetport is to the right in this image. Back in my past, when the old Eastern Airlines was the only game in town, we often took my Aunt Gloria to the airport on her trips back and forth to Europe(she taught at various Air Force bases throughout the continent). In these later years, J- and I often stopped by when my college buddy flew a Delta jet to the city. He always mentioned that his favorite approach was over the water, along the rocky coast, by Portland Headlight, over the city and up the river. How neat that must be!

Third Floor

One of Dad's many 'second' jobs was cleaning the former Canal Bank here at Morrill's Corner. Along with my paper route, one of the jobs I often did was help him clean the bank on the first floor and the architects' offices on the third floor. During the summer and winter, he often took a 'vacation' week from cleaning this building. So the job was left to me. Sometimes my brother or a sister helped out, but mostly it fell at my door. I really didn't mind it and sort of welcomed the added responsibilities. After all, I had the KEYS to a bank! His directions to me: dust every counter, empty all trashcans, clean the toilets, mop the linoleum floors, vacuum the teller areas and clean the ash trays. Other than that, don't touch a thing! If I hurried, I could complete the bank in about an hour. The upstairs was a treat. The minute I unlocked the door the aromatic sweetness of pipe tobacco filled my nostrils. Along with this aroma, the low hung ceilings, the small six over six windows, the stacks of blueprints scattered about the tables and the birds eye view of any happenings below on the sidewalks made for an interesting 1/2 hour or so. I always dreamed that some of my creative juices could have been explored in this profession. And here's another angle. Dad told me he often heard foot steps and doors closing upstairs, when the offices were darkened for the night. When I shut the lights up there, I always took one parting look into the darkness. Never heard or saw anything amiss.

Outcropping

Around these parts, this is the backside of Rocky Hill. Growing up my brother and I spent lots of days 'exploring' every nook and cranny of this Hill... literally and figuratively. I took a ride back yesterday morning in the rain. Here is one of my first posts on my photoblog, January 29, 2009. The Elephant Rock spoken of here is the largest outcropping on Rocky Hill.
"... Elephant Rock rises behind these structures. On winter days, when we lived on Washington Avenue, my brother, the neighborhood kids and I would grab large pieces of cardboard and head for this large outcropping for a day of fun sliding on the rock in the snow and ice. I remember there was one place on the back that had a long sluice-like run. The higher up the rock you could get, the longer your run. You had to be careful though, too far and you'd go over the edge to what we thought would be certain death on the rocks below. Long story short-- my brother, about 8 at the time, went into the Elephant Rock lore books one day, by losing his balance going up too high and sliding backwards off the humpback face. We ran through the snow to the front of the rock in disbelief. Around the corner, he met us with a big grin; maybe not knowing how close he had come to his early end." There are no trespassing signs everywhere now, but no matter, I plan a trip to the top soon. Some things in life, just must be done.

See: Pathway @ 12/29/2009
http://pasttimeamainebackyardandbeyond.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html