Unlike many Mainers, I live a plane ride’s distance from all my family except my daughter. Selfishly speaking this frees up weekends to pursue our own desires while other Maine families are doing Sunday meals with family. On the other hand there are plenty of times I’d like to live closer to my parents to help out more. When we do gather from long distances, it’s an event.

Tomorrow I’ll be leaving my quiet summer routine for a week in Wisconsin. It will be total immersion in the Midwest- custard stands, corn fields and farms bordered by subdivisions, lake country, the land of brats, beer and big families.  By the way I don’t eat the brats and I hate leaving my garden, which is full of delicious veggies right now.

It’s a raucous biannual gathering at my parents of my brothers, sisters and everyone’s children and partners, approximately 18 in any given year. It’s a great way to reconnect, swim, take walks, cycle, wine and dine together.

Feeding 18 people is a production. Usually we’re on the porch in the summer- the whole crew needs three tables to fit everyone. Of course the youngest grandkids get their own table.  Looking out over the lake, temps usually warm and muggy, stories flowing all around the tables, what a feeling relaxing with everyone.

Each family plans and cooks at least one dinner and must remember all the special needs- gluten free for her, who’s veggie now, not too much garlic or hot spices for mom and dad.  Hopefully everyone lends a hand at some point on the dishes. Come to think of it the various in-laws who never got up from the table to help are all gone from the family fold now. A telling detail!

Despite all the help, my mother still seems to be in the kitchen much of the day or running to the store for more food. My father’s contribution to the production is being host of the gathering, which means he is in charge of airport runs, drinks and check writing.

There’s such an energy with three generations mingling and lots of conversations as people catch up. Who has the latest tattoo or hair dye or new interest among the nine grandkids?    How well are each of us siblings juggling family, careers and life?  And how is my parents’ health? 

Some years it’s been my dad we're worried about with his multiple hip replacements; this Christmas my mother cracked her ribs in a fall and now some nasty arthritis in her knees has kicked up. None of us are getting any younger that’s for sure and aging is more charming in the grandchildren.

Though here’s a generation buster. Last year Leah, my daughter Eileen’s partner, taught my mom how to paddleboard. There she was all 5 feet 4 inches of her, sun hat on(until her first capsizing), life jacket cinched tight, the original Wisconsin lake girl trying a new water sport at 75.

Who knows what fun we’ll get up to this year?

Suit shopping at Macys

Thank goodness for old-fashioned department stores. Every 5 years or so we find ourselves in the men’s suit department at Macy’s looking for appropriate attire for a wedding or graduation.

Last night with really bad music (Donna Summer style) blaring in the dressing room, Ron stood on the raised platform in front of the angled mirrors dancing in various pants and vests. At least he took off his red Nikes and put on the black shoes he brought in his backpack.

Thankfully there was a helpful salesman for our innumerable questions around fitting, sizes and such. This is foreign territory for us, though I did find the only size 32 pants on the mannequin. He didn't look quite the same after!

Ron kept his good humor through the 32-inch pants, which will need to be taken in an inch and the lime green shirt, which was definitely not going to be the right color choice for his outfit.  But he got a little ornery when the small white shirt wouldn’t button around his medium neck!

I consulted with the salesman- yes indeed the top shirt button must close for the bowtie Eileen would be sending him to wear.  Feeling empowered since for once I wasn’t the frustrated shopper in the fitting room, I explained you have to buy the size for the biggest part of you- all women know that.

I ordered him to give me the grey pants, vest and size medium white shirt so that I could go pay for them. The salesman and I laughed over that, he added a 25% off coupon to the already discounted price and we were done. Ready for another wedding thanks to Macy’s department store.

Our military legacy- a mounting toll

This spring I went to two graduations, one high school commencement in Maine and one graduate school ceremony in Boston. What was striking in both speeches was the similar topic- the emphasis on veterans’ sacrifice, level of hurt and need in this country right now.

The guest speaker at Massachusetts School of Professional Psychiatry’s graduation was Tammy Duckworth, a veteran from the Iraq war, Black Hawk pilot, current congresswoman and double amputee.

She discussed the tremendous psychological toll the injuries have on returning vets. 100's no 1,000's of men and women learning how to walk, feed themselves and reinvent their lives after serious injuries.

She described one fellow patient at Walter Reed who spent 16 months playing video games in his room. “This isn’t who I am,” he told her one night when neither of them could sleep. “I’m a lieutenant in the army, a star athlete- not someone without any legs sitting in a hospital room.”

Duckworth herself after over two-dozen surgeries and 13 months of rehab has a new career in politics and is back flying private planes. The psychology graduates were urged to dedicate themselves to caring for veterans suffering from PTSD or myriad other illnesses. And to be creative about providing this care, so it is readily available for all veterans who need it.

The speaker at the high school graduation, a popular health teacher and basketball coach, spoke simply and with a few well-received sport's metaphors. He encouraged the new graduates to work hard and be determined in their goals using the story of a young wounded veteran who in the time these students were in high school fought in Afghanistan, was severely wounded and then rehabbed in the states, exhibiting grueling determination and courage to recover.

The parallel topic of these two speakers reinforces how profoundly this country is being impacted by our military’s continual intervention around the world. The antiwar era I grew up in has been replaced with a country dedicated to its military and national security.

War amputees and brain injured veterans are spurring new research advancements in prosthesis and trauma treatment. While we can be glad for that, we created the need for it.

Each year I have students who celebrate enlisting in the military. They see it as an opportunity for an education, a job, and a moral need to protect America. I remember one bright senior I taught who was determined to be a land mine detonator.  I respectfully spoke to him about how dangerous the military was as a career path and suggested college instead. 

He was killed in Afghanistan. Then I taught his younger brother and saw the pain and cost of that loss on a daily basis.

My students speak knowledgably about the effects of PTSD on their dads, uncles, and grandfathers who fought in the Korean War or Vietnam and how jumpy older friends are who return from the newest wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.They know what it is like living with a veteran still struggling with the effects of combat experiences.

I cannot imagine the physical and psychological trauma veterans are returning home with and the long struggles they have adjusting.  Will we as a country take care of them for the duration?

An equally important question is if there isn’t an alternative way to invest the skills and energy of our young people than sending them to war.

Lovely moments

Last Thursday night sunset around 8:30 PM.

My first yoga class after being laid up felt amazing. I was tenuous, afraid I  would trigger another back spasm.. Instead my body felt capable and happy to be used. Susan gave me some assists to help me strengthen a few poses; she was very sweet and supportive. How nice to live in a community where people know you. It was lovely to be back in the groove of a yoga class.

 
The next day Ron suggested a bike ride- again my first in a few weeks. When I haven’t ridden in awhile I get really fearful- dogs, traffic, you name it and it makes me nervous. Luckily, my back only hurt when I was standing on the hills of which there are plenty. Lots of other stuff hurts on hills too though- like my legs! But it was affirming to be pedaling away; I’ll get back into with a little help from my resident coach. It makes you feel so content- a good workout.

This last weekend the sensation of summer vacation started to settle in. Various times during the weekend it struck me – no school! No planning, no correcting, no teenagers.

Freedom to putter

Garden

Paddle

Swim

Bike

Hike

Watch bugs

Listen to birds

Savor my coffee

Read books

And write!

I can feel my brain cells relax along with my demeanor. I love summer in

Maine.

Feeling grateful at the auto service counter

Here’s to generous people who can make such a difference in my day.

A few weeks ago a persistent rattle in the front end axle, tire area of my car caused me to spontaneously turn into the VW dealership and talk to the service guys. It was Friday at 3:00.

Brownie and his coworker have been very nice over the years explaining the mechanics of parts in my car that fail, as they tally up my bill and make appointments over the phone.  It’s a full time job for the two of them!

Rows of keys line up on the counter on top of the respective cars’ bills, proof of a busy and productive day.

Brownie, the service man said, “Well I can put it up on the lift and take a look. “

Wow, no appointment and he can help me?  Then that nervous anticipation when you see your car being raised up. What will he find?

So he says after peering around under the front end, “Well your front left CV joint is ripped and the axle (or something) will just freeze while you’re driving….”

Great thought- my imagination doesn’t need anything more to worry about going wrong.

Brownie says (at least as best I can remember), “We can fix it now. There are 2 options. If we do replace the CV joint boot it will be $ 600 for parts; if we just replace the whole axle it’s a lot less."

Of course I chose the less expensive option, and he said, "We’ve already got someone heading over to Motor Supply to get the part. Do you have time to wait?"

Wow. Friday, 3PM and they’re going to fix my car? AWESOME.

Counting my blessings despite the beautiful sunny afternoon and post 5-day work week, I sat in the auto showroom grading school work for an hour or so ignoring the shiny new cars positioned around me.

The bill? Less than $250. I headed home an hour and a half later with a functioning CV joint at a minimal cost and avoided my 9-year old car breaking down. This task didn’t even make it to my to-do list!

Lucky me, and thanks to Brownie and the crew.

unsettled

Life marches on as I flounder for a topic or a purpose. I could make this really big or really little.  A life crisis or a bad Sunday? Low energy and still a little slow with my sore back.  Hot flashes are adding insult to injury.

I could be meditative- a breeze is making the buttercups in the field sway and a cranberry bush by the house is fluttering with white blooms. Crickets and birds are in the background.

The weather has been changeable: sunny, then dark and cloudy enough to turn the lights on. Gotta go with it, but it’s adding to my unsettledness.

Car shopping probably didn’t help either! The first dealership the salesman was older and fairly low-key, perhaps disinterested or tired after a long day. Having him drive with me made me feel like I was 16 and in driver’s ed.

 Concentrating on driving an unfamiliar car didn’t really give me a chance to look around and see if I liked either of the two models I drove. Or which I liked more. But I was dutifully trying to remember all the things “Kevin” told me. About engine sizes, suspensions, torque….

The next salesman was “Charlie” and young, with a license plate stuck in the back of his pinstriped pants. He talked way too much and had pretty bad one-liners in between information about the car model.

The thing is after driving 4 different cars I’m really not sure what I want.  I’ve done too much research and that doesn’t always help make a decision. Maybe I can ignore the rattles in my 9 year old car a little bit longer.

I appreciate the irony that buying something stresses me out, whereas most ads try to present buying something as a feel good experience. I’m the kind of person who’s happiest not changing my car, house, or clothes. Which works till things wear out.

Perhaps a canoe ride will balance out the weekend, close by in our 25 year old Old Town 18 footer. What a relic that is! Time to take control of the last bits of the weekend.

Bravo to both these women! Future National security adviser and United Nations ambassador.

I was reading this NY Times article
"Rice to Replace Donilon in the Top National Security Post"  when appreciation hit me to be reading about two strong intelligent women successfully navigating Washington politics  in the same article. Both Susan Rice and Samantha Powers advocate for our humanitarian responsibilities on the world front through the high profile roles they take on in their work.

Susan Rice didn't get a fair shot in her nomination for secretary of state.  I love how she kept on working diligently at the UN in the diplomatic trenches of the Syrian conflict, even though she'd gone through that public rejection by republicans.


And now Obama has found another spot for her that doesn't need congressional approval. Who will take Rice's UN position?

Samantha Powers another tenacious female voice for human rights around the world.

Bravo to both these women! Future National security adviser and United Nations ambassador.

(Both photos from NY Times article.)

checking in

Birds chirping even though it's getting dark, peepers chiming in behind them, plants hopefully equally tough in the falling temps. We're going from 90s to 60s and at night 40s; that's a big change for people and plants. Things are dry and the air is crisp.

After work today, I gathered up branches in the grass from the windy days we've had. Then I carefully hauled out compost and fertilizer trying to use my arm strength not my back, so I could start to finish the rest of garden plantings.

Sitting down on a stool to rest I realized my back was aching, and I limped up to the house and heating pad. At least all the buckets of stuff are in the garden and maybe tomorrow I'll  get a few more rows in.

I have an incentive; it's supposed to rain heavily later in the week for a few days, so do it now or wait a week Katie!

the secret's out- Rhubarb torte recipe

Here's a photo for our Canadian Arctic classmate who isn't seeing blooms yet:)

So in the spring this is an awesome dessert. It's from my mom's mom in Wisconsin and I believe it's Swedish. Rich but tart too.

My printed out copy is probably 30 years old. I can barely read it, and people have been asking for the recipe, so now's a good time to type it up. Find some rhubarb and get cooking!

Mom's Rhubarb torte

crust:
2 cups flour
2 tsp. sugar
1/2 lb. butter
1 egg yolk

mix and put in a 9x9 glass pan
press lightly with fork or fingertips


4 c raw rhubarb cut
1 1/2 c sugar
3-4 tsp. tapioca
2 egg yolks beaten
2 tsp. grated orange rind


mix together, spoon fruit onto crust,
dot with butter (or not)


bake at 350 degrees for one hour

Boston celebrations

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Graduations are a happy time right? Why do administrators ruin it by taking the first 85 minutes to talk about famous people and award them honorary degrees? And then have those famous people talk.  You’re at their mercy because you’re there to cheer someone on you care about.  That’s what should be the focus of the planning for graduations not all the pomp and circumstance. Two and a half hours today could have been pared down to 75 minutes.

 And guess what time you shouldn’t have graduation? At 11 so people miss lunch because of all the rigmarole.  In the lobby outside the graduation I attended today, people were dipping out to use the bathrooms and then asking about where to find a bite to eat or a cup of coffee, before they went back in to finish the ceremony. Even graduates were coming out for bathroom breaks!

The good parts? The Park Plaza hotel where the ceremony was held has nice architecture- lots of marble and chandeliers. And our daughter Eileen got a master’s degree. And we were there to share in the celebration!

 Much hard work and learning, many papers, and study sessions later, her cohort of 13 or 14 all survived the year's program and made friendships that will continue. Hopefully she is able to apply her knowledge the way she envisions. She is full of passion!

We stayed in Brookline in a B&B that’s more like a guesthouse, a couple of rooms in a very big old house. It was like a time capsule. Bamboo lamps, metallic wall paper from the 60s.  Lots of old stuff on shelves and in jars, huge gilded framed mirrors, antique furniture, and original lead windows.

The owner seemed in another world too. Mellow, not wealthy, handy with his hands, and renovating the house he was born in slowly.  Right in the city they have a vegetable garden taking up the whole front yard! A little unorthodox compared to the neighbors' landscaping. I wonder what the soil is like? It doesn't seem like it would be very good.

The front porch was a lovely respite from the city pace. It felt like summer had begun sitting on a glider bench looking at the flowering bushes and passer bys.  

 

 Boston is a city of walkers.  From the front porch I saw runners, dog walkers, a man in a suit walking, texting and carrying a photography stand. A woman formally dressed on her way to church. A man carrying a golf bag. Another was reading as he walked to the T.

We walked slowly through the neighborhood enjoying the elaborate entryways, columns, fancy leaded glass doors, clay and slate roofs, gorgeous plantings and various trees providing delightful cooling.  

In the heat and bustle of the city, 95 degrees, people were flocking to the parks, sitting on blankets in the shade, so much humanity, traffic, different people, trains, buses, taxis, cars. High energy. But for this Maine girl after a final photo I was happy to head east.

Cooler temps and rushing water

Here we are catapulting into summer, but just last weekend, and even two days ago, I was still making wood fires and wearing sweaters. It wouldn't stop raining and the highs were in the 50s, remember? Now it's sunny, 90 degrees and close to breaking records. Humidity - yup.

So for one last glance at the cool temps and raging rivers of last weekend, read on.







The Carrabassett River and Kennebec hit flood stages or highs Saturday night into Sunday. Everywhere was white water. Very impressive rapids. People around town who run the rapids were very happy. 

Ron and I finally went out biking Sunday in the rain just to get out of the house and see the water from different places. It was running like crazy at our house and up a few feet.









To follow the river, we did some single track off the Narrow Gauge trail between the Carrabassett town office and Sugarloaf. That section has some great falls and turns in the river. I've heard its class 4 and 5.

The water was sooo powerful it was roaring. It actually didn't seem doable by kayak.  We stopped a few times to check it out, and on the slippery roots right next to the river I tried very hard not to fall in!

It's amazing what a confidence game bike riding and balance is. If I don't think I can get across a skinny wood bridge then I probably won't:) Might as well get off and push the bike. No shame in that compared to really crashing though.