walking the beach

other than me, the only things moving on the beach this morning were these birds. how wonderful to have such a vast expanse of sand and sea virtually to myself.

in the sand

found on a small sandbar, this tiny hole with tinier rocks clustered tightly inside. a gift from the sea for my camera lens.

long lost last weekend

off to the ocean, this time for a few days only. i'll see the sea, smell the salt and feel the sun. and make a memory to sustain me through another cold and snowy new england winter. this daylily has nothing to do with that - or with anything for that matter. i just like the way you can almost see the texture of the flower petals.

first day

today i begin my twenty-sixth year as a teacher of small children.
twenty five years of service...

the summer that wasn't

for all intents and purposes, summer is over. it was an uncommonly short hiatus from school, fraught with medical issues, family concerns, cancelled plans, and no time by the ocean. add to that the rainy, damp days and this summer was almost a bust. but now on to the glorious days of fall, with crisp, clear days and chill starlit nights - and the fervent hope that summer does not try to return in its place.

jewelweed

growing wild on the outskirts of the yard, this is one of my favorite of the "roadsidea" species. a late summer bloomer, it's aptly named since its flower gleams like an orange jewel in a profusion of green leaves. now, see those elongated fat seed pods? the slightest touch will abruptly burst the pod open - pop! - and send tiny wet seeds spitting out in all directions. find some and try it yourself. it's great fun - even better than popping bubble wrap!

toadstool

look! living proof of the rainy and damp summer it has been. this mushroom was enormous, glowing white-yellow by the side of the road amongst the greens and browns of the underbrush. it was tall and perfect and it looked like something from a storybook. like it should have fairies living under it or sprites dancing around it in the dew.

rain, rain...

go away.
please.

real live riddle

why did the chicken (and the guinea hen) cross the road?

what do you think?

a dead moth

found on the sidewalk under a maple in a nearby city. it was beautiful and it was huge! (click on the picture to make it big - it's on toilet tissue, see?) i really wanted to keep it and bring it to school, but a local shopkeeper became so excited when i shared it that i let her have it. her young son collects insects and aspires to become an entomologist. so i took this photo, then sent the moth to him with my email address. i want him to identify it. and i want to know he's as impressed with it as i was.

monarda

aka bee balm, tossed up on the back hill years ago while uprooting a now defunct herb garden. rather raggedy flowers sit atop too-thick stems that are sturdy and square as most mints are, and spread quickly as most mints do. as their common name suggests, these flowers attract bees - but they attract hummingbirds as well. so a better name for the plant might be hummingbird balm. say that three times fast. it sounds as funny as the flowers look.

nap time

this is the fan on the ceiling of the baby girl's nursery. directly under it, next to the crib, is where i dozed on the carpet this afternoon, waiting impatiently for the baby girl to wake from her nap so we could get back to the serious business of playing. ring-around-a-rosie, wooden puzzles, stacking cups, soft blocks, board books, balls - all those toys and playthings that grammies just love.

grey morning, grey feather

early this morning, as the tea water boiled, i ventured into the murky dampness that has been prevalent these weeks, searching for a photo. the best i could do: this turkey feather adorning a hanging plant.

on two feet

the best part of the summer was recently spent hanging out by day with the baby girl, who has learned to walk. what a thrill for a grammie to see!

pencils & pens

some people love to shop for shoes, others buy clothes, still others browse for jewelry or antiques. what excites me is office supplies. felt pens and mechanical pencils, file folders and colored markers, post-it notes in every size, shape, and color. in discount department stores, i meander down the stationery aisles whether i need anything or not. let me loose in staples or office depot and i can entertain myself for hours. the w. b. mason catalog is my wish book. today in the local drug store as i was perusing the back-to-school displays, there hanging on a hook was the new sharpie pen i had only read about - permanent, fine point, and guaranteed not to bleed through paper. and, as pitiful as i know this sounds, i swear, reader, as i stood there choosing my color i felt my heart leap in my chest, just a little.

daylily

this daylily has been sitting in its pot by side of the house since i bought it at a plant sale in may. what a shame i can't bring it back. the moral: never believe hand printed tags on plants.

growing gingerly

look at this - my ginger root has sprouted! if i plant it, do you think it might grow? and if it does grow, is the plant worth it? because here's what it would look like. i'm not sure why happenings like this intrigue me. after all, the thing is a root! but it's still serendipitous to me!

let's play jeopardy!

always, when you're with my mother, you watch jeopardy. since its inception in the 70s, through the many set changes and fewer host changes, my mother has persisted in playing along with the game show, calling out the questions ("what was byzantium?") as the answers (istanbul was once constantinople & before that, this city founded by the greeks) flipped over onto the jeopardy board. in her younger days, she responded with lightning speed, regardless of category. and her answers were always correct. the year that jeopardy came to boston recruiting contestants, we urged my mother to try out, but she woudn't. she would have been amazing. she could have been champion. she might have become rich. in those early days of jeopardy, the game was a family affair, with all activities ceasing and anyone who was home at the time coming downstairs to join my mother in the game. over the years, children moved out, the time of the show changed, and my mother's response time slowed, but she remains a constant viewer. even today, so many years later, i refrain from phoning her while the show is on, but watch at home and wait until the final jeopardy challenge has come to a close and the day's champion has been named. only then will i call and we compare responses. and she’s still right.

more good camouflage

shh! there he is. see? not only did he sit for the photograph, he remained motionless until i crept away. he may be there still, camouflaged by the forest floor.

a vacation of sorts

amazon jungle? malaysian rainforest? no, just the tangle of aged bittersweet on the other side of the fence behind my mother’s place.

a question of cold cuts

just what exactly is turkey ham anyway? is it turkey? is it ham? if it's really turkey, how can it be called ham? if it's actually ham, how can it be classified as poultry? can a turkey product in truth take on the characteristics of a pork one, and if so, how? and if it is ham, is it considered kosher because in reality it's not really ham at all but turkey? something's fowl here, that's for certain - but is it ham?

family of ten

eight turkey babies perch atop a stone wall as their mother, left, takes stock. father turkey paces on the other side of the road, trying to avert attention from his family, but to no avail. captured through the windshield on a back road during a wonderful day trip with an amazing friend.

what might have been

alas, the magnificent poppies pictured below do not belong to me. they belong to my green-thumb'd friend helen in maine and were photographed last summer in her yard on a glorious august day. i might have been enjoying their abundant beauty here in my own garden this summer had i remembered to scatter the seeds pictured to the right, the ones that helen sent to me in the fall.
oh drat.
double drat.
do you suppose it's too late?

the beauty of weeds

i have no idea what these are. all i know is they appeared in the garden with no human intervention, they are prolific, and they make great filler in a bouquet. and they sure are pretty, all light and airy on their slender stems.

this is a cake?

on this independence day, a recipe for an interesting light summer dessert:

1 box angel cake mix
1 20 oz can crushed pineapple

dump ingredients in a bowl. yes, that's all the ingredients there are. mix them up. watch the batter grow and bubble in the bowl. yikes! then spray a 9x13 pan and pour the batter in.

bake at 350° for 25 minutes til the top is a spongey golden brown. cool in pan. then frost with (are you ready?) fat free cool whip! refrigerate til after the cookout when it's time for dessert!

pink zinnia

never before have i planted zinnias. but this year i broke down, ostensibility because i found them on sale but actually because i am enthralled by the brilliance of the flowers. in the perennial garden with its muted shades of green, blue and yellow, the zinnias stand out like circus clowns, all orange and red and cerise. normally i might not like that but this year, it's good. maybe i'm subconsciously trying to cram color into these few short months because last winter was so bleak and so stark for so long.

garden orb

one of my earliest memories is of my grandmother's glow-in-the-dark rosary beads. i would take them into this little room, a closet perhaps, behind some sort of curtain and wave them around and marvel at their glowing greenness. and what does that have to do with my garden, you ask? i believe that early experience made me the sucker i am today for anything that glows in the dark, and this garden-thing-on a-stick is supposed to do just that. subject it to sunlight by day, says the tag, and particles inside will glow thoroughout the night. i have yet to see that happen but am chalking it up to all the afternoon storms we've had. today, however, has dawned bright and sunny - so i'm hopeful that tonight may be the night! i'll let you know...

comfrey

this is comfrey, an old fashioned herb, left in the yard from days when i sought to use herbs for medicinals. comfrey has natural healing properties and makes a good salve. but these days it just makes a good bush - tall as me with deep green leaves and these purple bell-like flowers.

in the dill

observed this evening crawling on the dill plant. i wonder if he's going to eat this herb or just hang out there eventually in a chrysalis.

party!

a perfect first birthday party: puffy fair-weather clouds, kids big and little, presents wrapped in tissue, chubby knees crawling in the grass, a single happy birthday balloon batted by babies like a ball, book inscriptions, delicious burgers, carrot birthday cake, and sticky little fingers covered in crumbs. happy birthday baby girl!

how to tell when you're too busy

you realize you've not only had morning and evening caffeine, you've also eaten both breakfast and dinner from dunkin donuts. in your car. between destinations. and that's not good.

the happy birthday cake plate

this is the happy birthday cake plate, given to me when the girl was a baby. the metal surface is scarred and scratched from many celebrations but, when the pedestal is wound, the plate still revolves and plays "happy birthday" in tinkling music box tones. this cake plate came to me by way of a colleague who had used for her own children. she must have recognized the traditionalist in me even back then, and passed it on that i might continue to use it to create happy birthday moments. and for all these years, i have. but this week i pass it along to the girl herself. she will begin to create her own memories as she uses it for the baby girl's first birthday cake - today.

cheap gas

three-ninety-three a gallon. lowest prices in the area. so i filled up - and was aghast at the total. i remember when forty-five dollars fed my family for two weeks. when it was my monthly utility bill. and now it fills my tank. how much more can we take? when will this end? time for a bicycle, skateboard, heelys, any mode of transportation but a gas-guzzling one.

dress up

growing up, the girl was not a big fan of dresses. it's not surprising, then, that the baby girl has never worn one. in the girl's defense, dresses for infants are not very practical. they're drafty. they're itchy. and drooling on a dress is somehow much worse than drooling on, say, a onesie or a playset. but with the upcoming birthday also comes a special gift giving opportunity. i have been eyeing this smocked seersucker sundress for months and finally, i just caved in and bought it. will the girl let the baby wear it? i hope so. will the baby girl like wearing a dress? i don't know. will she be able to crawl in it? probably not. but she sure will look adorable in it - even if there is a little drool down the front.

thunder & lightning

tonight while i work, i track the impending storm. severe thunderstorm warnings for our area - threats of damaging winds, frequent lightning, and penny-sized hail. i update the animated radar map frequently and watch as the storm approaches. soon enough i hear the rumbling of distant thunder. standing in the open doorway, i watch far-away lightning in the west illuminate the sky. i rush to shower, to finish the dishes, to close down the windows. as the storm begins to rage, i sit safe on the couch in the very center of the house, away from windows. i mean to read but instead watch the fireworks in the sky and try in vain to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder.

god's rays

when i was much younger, i believed that sunlight like this, streaming in rays down to earth, was evidence of god's existence. god shining down on us all (cue the organ). as i grew up, i learned the scientific name for this phenomenon - crepuscular rays, occurring when clouds partially obscure the sun's light. in order to see these rays, the atmosphere must be hazy or dusty enough so that sunlight in unshadowed areas can be scattered toward the observer, as in this picture shot shortly after today's spring shower. but now that i am older, i wonder if this sight is the result of a joint effort: a breath-taking natural event made possible by the presence of specific atmospheric conditions - all orchestrated by god.

old meets new

how absurd does this look? light from such a new fangled bulb emanating from such an old-fashioned looking lamp. this one's made from an old bobbin, with thread still wound around the spindle. thankfully the lampshade still fits over the bulb and conceals it. the integrity of the cute little lamp is not compromised and no one will even suspect that i'm conserving energy.

good camouflage

see?
or maybe you don't see!

braiding down the daffodils

after daffodils bloom and the flowers are spent, the green leaves remain and eventually yellow and die. this dying back into the bulb is necessary for the success of the next year's blooming so the leaves cannot be cut off or mowed down even though they get pretty unsightly. so i gather up the narrow leaves and i braid them, then wrap these braids around the base of the plant to die off there. each year this quiet task saddens me a bit. in the midst of new growth all around, this plant has already lived and died.

tilling the garden

this afternoon's turning of the compost into the soil of the vegetable garden produced all sorts of interesting items. broken shards of pottery, a big rock for the wall, plastic plant sticks from numerous greenhouse seedlings, a nasty looking nail, and wonder of wonders, these tiny radishes!

creeps me out

seen this afternoon on an iced coffee run when i opted to go inside mcd's because the drive thru line was miles long. it's ronald mcdonald, in the flesh. and red wig and makeup and floppy shoes. [shudder]. no wonder so many people were driving up instead of going in.

lightening up

passing under this chandelier and walking out the door late this afternoon signified the end of a big project, the last of several this spring. it's been a very long, very busy month of may. i'm looking forward to a quiet and unhurried last two days before june sets in and busy begins all over again.

following directions

just doing what it says to do, that's all. of course, it never did say to "go."

memorial day red

new growth on this unexpected maple in the garden at the girl's house. just look at the bilateral symmetry in those tiny new red leaves.

chowdah crackahs

citizens of new england, rise up! for the second time in a dozen years, nabisco has ceased production of these simple crackers. eaten alone and unadorned, pilot crackers taste like their original name implies - like hardtack, a bland flat bread first made in the late 1700s for sailors to take for months at sea. but crumble one of these crunchy rectangles into clam chowder or butter it and eat it alongside a bowl of chowder and pilot crackers take on a whole new flavor and consistency. it's practically a new england staple and a must for chowder lovers like me. the last time these crackers were taken from us, there was a grassroots movement to bring them back. at that time, nabisco got hundreds of letters. and that was before the internet, before email, and before blogs. so let your voice be heard. desperate times call for deperate measures, people.

a toast

chardonnay?
reisling?
sauvignon blanc?

nope, it's water from my new britta water filter. and it tastes surprisingly good even without adding any of the lemony powdery sweet stuff. this may just be the answer to my pollution problem. so here's to those from the comments section who mentioned filtering water. it works! cheers!

lily of the valley

hands down, my favorite springtime flower. love the tiny white bells, the heavenly scent, the way the plants spread through the garden. and that it's the birth flower for may.

fungi

look at the size of the mushrooms on this tree! every time i pass by, they seem bigger with more protuberance. i wonder if they ever get heavy enough to fall off. I wonder if they're edible. i wonder if chipmunks ever stand on them and watch the world go by.

the river

at the end of a crazy day i stop at river's edge, looking for fish or frogs or flora or some springtime photo op. and all i find is sunlight and stillness. so i snap away, staying for more time than i probably should.