Monochrome

It's a fitting end to November that it goes out with grey skies and rain. I always think of November as the grey month, when everything, sky, trees and landscape is a palette of greys. Today the clouds swept in and the rain commenced and that combined with the early dusk we get this time of year made for a monochromatic afternoon. I stepped out of my office and took this shot through the branches of the tree by my bolt door. (Its an emergency exit - no crocodiles on the other side of course, but there is a middle school and middle schoolers which might be just as scary. . .) No that's not the almost full moon, although that's where it would be in the sky - it's a drop falling toward the camera lens.

Light Bowling

When it's too hot for a fire but you want to sit in front of the fireplace and enjoy some ambiance what do you do? You light up a bowl. No, not like that. Like this.

I Love a Parade

And I loved this float most of all. We took our house guests over to Lowell, a city I spend far too little time in, to wander around and see the sights. After a browse through an art show and a visit to the Boott Mills exhibit in the National Park we made our way over to the sidewalk for the "City of Lights" holiday kick off parade. I can get pretty cynical about this stuff - the kick off to holiday shopping and more cheap s**t from China, but the local artisans and shopkeepers were all hopeful that we might spend some of our hard earned dollars locally. (They would be right of course) And to sweeten the deal they threw in a parade with marching bands from several high schools, girls scouts and boy scouts galore and the emergency services vehicles - police, fire and EMS and this. Part apology, part challenge, part plea on behalf of the snow plow operators. Sorry, plow people. I DO take it personally. When I've shoveled and labored over piles of snow at the top of my driveway and you come along and fill it back in? After hours? Not take it personally? Not a chance. (Especially when I've seen the plow trucks taking their break at the local pub. . .) Lift the plow and we'll have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year.

First Fire of the Season

It finally got cold enough to have a fire in the fireplace without needing to open windows. Although I would have loved a Thanksgiving with crackling logs, it was just too hot. We would have been down to t-shirts and sandals over turkey. But Friday, the cooler air swept in and I collected some damp logs from the porch, paper and fat wood and created this beauty. Now that the house smells like wood smoke, can snow be far behind?

The Table is Set.. . .

And we give thanks. We give thanks for the family that is with us. We give thanks for the friends who have come to share our day. We give thanks for the bounty on the table. We give thanks for the capacity for pleasure in the meal and in each other. We give thanks for the phone calls and the emails and the thoughts of those who are not with us. And we give thanks for the time we have in these bodies and feast of the senses they experience. We are blessed. And we give thanks.

I read a marvelous quote from an ordinary human, "the source of all celebrations is within". If we did not have marvelous feast and a gathering of friends and family, to take the time and give thanks would have been just as meaningful. And from the point of view of the hosts, what could have been a stressed out, over the top cranky picky bossiness (I am a control freak in the kitchen - comes from all those years of cooking for pay) day of preparation was an easy set of tasks with my two guys - Jon and Steve - working like a well oiled machine. And unlike other years while I ran between cooking and hostessing, I let that go, trusting that the family and friends assembled didn't need me to manage their social interaction. So while the guests enjoyed each other I gave myself the luxury of attending the cooking hearth in an unhurried way. I let myself be grateful for the ability to make this meal, the assistance of my son and spouse, the opportunity to welcome people into our home (and gratitude that having guests is such a catalyst for house cleaning). All celebrations come from within. And it was lovely within and without. And it would have been just as lovely with fewer sides, an unbrined turkey and only two kinds of pie. But, in spite of my pledges to simplify, simplify, simplify, as long as my personal situation allows, I will still go over the top with all the goodies of this food centered holiday. I am after all, my mother's daughter. And her mother's granddaughter, and . . . and for that, too, I give thanks.

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.
It turns what we have into

enough, and more.
It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order,

confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a

home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past,

brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

.

Melody Beattie

Fronts Collide

Or maybe the term is "fronts stall", but whatever is going on weatherwise it's still warm for November and we've been wrapped up in a fog cocoon today. You can hear the trees drip moisture and the downed leaves are glossy with wet. It's very nice on the heating the bills - I have this parodoxical gratitude for global warming in that regard - and at the same time (as I've said often of late) just a little creepy. It's supposed to be cold this time of year. And crisp with the smell of snow in the air. But that's not what we have, and when it gets cold it will probably swing overnight to bitter cold and snow storm after snow storm. Who knows what's going on with our climate. I certainly don't. For now, I will try to consider it a gift from the weather gods that I don't have to deal with snow while we have multiple cars parked at the bottom of the driveway.

No Place Like Gnome

There was a movie, Amelie, I think, with a traveling garden gnome. If memory serves, the gnome was kidnapped and given to flight attendant who took photos of the gnome in a variety of global locales. The gnomes owner, a stay at home, risk averse type, was inspired to begin his own travels. Our gnome had no such luck. If I'd known Sarah was going to be sleeping in hotels with crocodiles in the courtyard pool, I would have sent the gnome along. But, alas, I did not and our gnome is at home, in his perch under the grapevine. And soon, I'll move him into the mud room for winter when the view is not fabulous at all.
,

Not So Crappy?

Remember Jon and the Crappy Collage syndrome? Wherein the teaching to the eight intelligences involved decimating art and music programs, but every academic program had it's crappy collage. One day it was write an essay, the next day it was create a collage expressing your understanding of the Song of Hiawatha. An undertaking which Jon christened the "crappy collage". He was remarkably patient, and on occasion fairly artistic. I never saw the point myself, but wasn't about to tell him that at the time. Now as I make my annual forage for "what can I get out of this house?" I am finding things too precious to throw away, but unless I find something more creative to do with them, they're just going to be forgotten in boxes and drawers. At about the same time, I got a bunch of old glass/wood frames that were probably for certificates and I decided to try my hand at collage. Not so bad. And lots of fun. If I didn't have a job and a bathroom renovation project underway, I'd be perfectly happy to sit and collage away the old postcards and odd little objects that got passed to me or collected on my travels. In this one, my first the theme is knitting (what else?) but I've layered it with a postcard from my travels to Ireland a dozen years ago, a little sweater that was glued to a thank you card from a girl I taught to knit when she was 11, my first set of wooden needles that I broke at the end of a miserable week teaching at Spiral Heart, yarn that was a gift from someone I admire greatly and a couple of ruminations on art and craft. A whole lot of life in an 8X10 frame. Who knew how the not - so - crappy -collage could say so much.

Bittersweet

Has taken over the roadsides, and unfortunately our back yard as well. I blush when I think back to the early nineties when I would FORAGE for the stuff, make door swags and arrangements and then when I was done, toss the odds and ends of berries and branches into the woods behind the house. ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH. Alien Invasives any one? Now you can't get rid of the stuff and its choking the life out of all the natives along roadsides and meadows. Mea culpa, mea cupla, mea maxima culpa. (They are pretty though).

New Moon

I read a review of the movie "New Moon" the second in the Twilight series of vampire novels turned into fodder for the silver screen or the dvd player as the case may be. In spite of the fact that I'm about the least interested movie goer of my acquaintance, I have tried to become conversant with cultural icons. Not literature, but like Harry Potter, the people's reading, and then the people's movies. I tired with Twilight, the first movie, I really did. But after 15 minutes of bad lighting, bad acting and long soulful gazes that did nothing to forward the plot, I gave up. So imagine my surprise to read that unlike the "good" first Twilight movie, "New Moon" stinks. NOOOOOO. I can't believe that it could have gotten worse. They made a really bad movie the first time around. And they managed to make it worse. Billions of years of evolution . . . and this is what we've come to. So in honor of the movie I didn't see, the book I'll never read, this picture of the new moon of mid November in Andover's very nice twilight.

Wet and Wild

This morning it was. I was out and about early - an ultrasound appointment and then work and then because I felt particularly cruddy came home to make chicken soup. In those few short hours it rained, the sun came out, it rained again. And not just a polite steady rain. This one was a gully wumper. Just between car and house I got soaked. But I got to warm up in a toasty kitchen with the soup making. Its a baroque enough process. Simmer the whole chickens with bay leaves and peppercorns for an hour or so, cool them, pick the meat, feed the dog bits, then roast the bones in the oven until they caramelize, return bones to stock pot and simmer away until the stock reduces and is a rich brown - for me about two hours. Then the celery, onions, carrots and parsley go in. Simmer and whenever we get around to eating it, add cooked noodles and chicken. Jewish penicillin. And in the days of H1N1 a good preventative to have around. (Both Kate and Steve got flu shots - I did not - feeling a little doomed right now) This photo is not mine - I don't have that many rubber chickens although it's good to have goals - hmmmm a bowlful of rubber chickens.

Not the Real Thing

I'm not a "real" photographer. I've never had a zoom or one of those screw on things that make cameras look phallic and a little scary. I've never made people stop what they were doing in the name of "art" or inavaded the privacy of perfect strangers for same. I've never had a darkroom for developing and I didn't even know I should use a lens cap. No light meters. No fancy gee gaws. Just me and the little disposable 35 mm you pick up CVS. Unfortunately bad pictures (usually of my finger or someone's but or most of their face - but not all of it) cost money, paper and waste so I was never much of a risk taker photo wise. But now, thanks to the magic of digital, I can just hit the delete button. No fuss, no muss, and no one else - even the clerk who develops photos - needs to know how many bad shots of pizza I took. And of just about everything else. So I may not be a real photographer, but at this point in time I'm a picture taker. Mostly non human subjects, since I have an almost allergic reaction to people pics on the web, but when you get tired of leaves and trees, just let me know and I'll start looking for other objects. Paperweights?

Looking Down

Its apparent that all the beauty has been stripped from the trees and we're gazing and bark skeletons until the first snow coats them. I'm fine with that. It occurred to me that the beauty is less of a stripped away type than a displacement of beauty. I walked with the four legged through the woods and since all of those leaves had to go somewhere and in obeying gravity they went "down" onto my path. No rakes, no leaf blowers in the woods. Just displaced beauty and me looking down.

The. Best. Tile. Repair. Ever.

Probably not, but I'm so pleased with my efforts, that I think so. All those years of looking at holes in tile are at an end. Last night, as you, dear daughter, no doubt read with baited breath, I removed the damaged tiles and today after I finished working on writing and marketing efforts, I REPLACED IT WITH INTACT TILE. I can see why I let it go so long. It was a royal pain in the butt to replace, but looks so much better now. Tomorrow night after standing committee meeting (or maybe before) I grout. And then the sink goes in and you get pictures. But not yet. Nothing until I have a bonne fide "after" to post. So I'll put something pretty up. Something non-repair. A leaf will do nicely. (And yes, I probably need to put more meaning in my life).

We're staying put for Thanksgiving. I didn't think it would make me as sad as it does. I love having this particular holiday with my family. My sisters and I cook, drink and gossip. The young adults are around and we can catch up on news of their lives and my parents are still with us to enjoy the feast and each other. And I am very aware that these days are fleeting and precious. We're hosting my brother and sister in law here and have added to the gathering with friends who live locally. It will be a lovely day, no doubt, but I still wish I were in Presque Isle. There is NO place like home for the holidays. Ever. What do they do in Hanoi for Thanksgiving? I wonder. . .

Macho Mom

No, not on the soccer field. Just me with my trusty wrench, drill, safety glasses and pry bar. Remember how I vowed that I would give up on the no show plumbers and do the blasted job myself? Remember? So I unhooked the sink. So far, so good. No floods. Then I got a new sink and vanity off Craigs list. So far, so good. It didn't fit. So I got a second sink off Craigs List. This one fits. And then I got a faucet. This has taken the better part of a week. So much for so far so good. (Now bear in mind that in Andover, all appliances must have the wow factor, so the sinks are accompanied by espresso stained woodwork and brushed nickel hardware and are much less expensive on Craigs List than from Ethan Allen. And one day, I will sell the house, and the 1980s look won't help me with curb appeal or bathroom appeal.) Of course the tile that has had holes in it from a previous sink retrofit have to come off so I can replace them with new, non holey tile and then plumb the new sink and console. It took me two hours to take up 8 tiles. Two from the floor, six from the wall. The floor tiles were cracked under the old sink, because some rocket scientist thought it made sense to glue the pedestal foot to the tiles with the equivalent of gorilla glue. THEN, when I got the tiles out, the cement screw that has been sticking out for all these years had to come out as well, I drilled off the cement with a masonry bit and finally managed to unscrew the sucker. That took most of an hour. I'm rethinking my ideas about how long this project will actually take. But it will be nice to wash our hands in the same room we pee in. Besides I feel so macho when I pull the safety glasses over my eyes.













This is the "before" picture. Old sink is gone, although the holey tiles are still in place. I have no plans to replace the toilet, although I might swap out the national geographics for smithsonian magazines. . .

Fading Light

The rain blew out and left us with a day that felt more like April than November. And although I worked through most of the afternoon, I did make it back to Andover in time to walk in the bird sanctuary with Steve and Rascal and then to watch the light fade as we savored the last few warm moments on the deck. We watched the sky grey and then the brilliant sunset color backdrop the trees, and fade to indigo then to black as the darkness filled in. It's extraordinary how quickly we go from day to night this time of year and extraordinary that this kind of palette is right in my own back yard. We have only to step out the door and the master artist has something marvelous on display.

PizZAH

We had guests, the senior Buccieris came for a weekend visit on Friday and weather permitting will go home tomorrow. They had not seen Liana's place yet, so down we went in the sheets of driving rain. We have a leftover tropical storm in the area and was it wild. Even Steve, the most laid back and laconic driver got off the highway because the visibility and traction were non existent. Liana and Jess prepared a lovely lunch, I ate chips which was a very bad plan, but they tasted so good. Today? Back to roasted kale, which I am still eating in large quantities. This seems to be turning into an occasional food blog - partly because I think that you (Sarah) may be missing some of our lovely family meals and quintessentially American food and partly because food is as big a part of my life as oh. . . renovating the bathrooms. No epic meal tonight though, just tossed some ingredients into the bread machine, steamed some spinach, mashed some tomatoes with olive oil and voila, pizza. Manga, people, manga. (Wait until Thanksgiving for drool over food pictures).

Talk

And then talk some more. I spent the day in a crowded conference room facilitating a table of a dozen educators, parents, would be employers and adults with autism. It was a fascinating experience - facilitation is a moving target, depending on who you're facilitating and this group was easy enough - but this town meeting model used technology in ways I have not experienced before. I'm not sure how I feel about it. And I'm not sure it made the conversations any more profound, insightful or productive than they would have been without the technology, but it was certainly interesting. There were keypads that took individuals demographic information and eventually initiative votes and prioritization were recorded on the same keypads - so when the 1000 or so people's input is analyzed there will be another layer of labeling to attach to their opinions - which could either be that they speak with the authority of their role, or that they are locked into predictable advocacy for their role. I'll be interested to see what ammendments are made to the process after today. This was a gig with America Speaks, but I think I still prefer the Public Conversations Project process, which is very low tech, very intentional and rooted in interpersonal dynamics. This seems just a little gimicky. Technology is a good thing and a useful thing, but is it always necessary? I don't know. But what I do know is that after a fairly long commute and a very long day of being "on" I'm ready for bed. (P.S. There was another baby pic today - he's still beautiful) In honor of the time keepers at todays town hall meeting, I have included this picture from our Mount Auburn visit - a funerary carving, holding an hourglass. Time slips away for us all.

Another Miracle

Ian Christopher Kelley born this evening, 5:55 pm to my brother and sister in law. I make a point of keeping most people pictures off this blog, so you won't see him here, but I can promise you that the newborn shot sent from my brother's smart phone is beautiful. He's a miracle. It doesn't seem to matter how many times it happens, a baby, a beautiful healthy baby is as miraculous the bazillinth time as it was the first. And a baby born into a loving family is worthy of celebration. So to this new little person, his siblings, his parents and extended family - a toast. Welcome to the world little Ian. I hope we can make it worthy of you.

Look What I Did!!!!!

I was tired of looking at the 80's light bar in our bathroom, so I found a nice cheap second hand light on Craigs List to replace it. I'm re-painting the room in the sweep of cosmetic improvements before the house goes on the market, so we're going a little more new millenium. I was happy that I could go on youtube and look for instruction videos on installing a vanity light. And I did it. First time I've ever removed and reinstalled a light fixture and am I ever proud. At my age I don't do new things every day (although maybe I should). Yaaaaay me. Of course, it took me several hours because I had to recut drywall and install the mounting plate and of course all the sizes didn't match from the old fixture to the new one, but I did it. And I didn't have to wait around the house for yet another repair person to stand me up. Next up the new sink installation in the down bath. Stay tuned.

Rodents of Unusual Size

These beavers - wow. I wouldn't want to meet one of them in a dark alley. The photos are just a couple of examples of their handiwork. I want teeth like that. . .

Encore

The warmth has returned this week. Late last night I heard coyotes singing their summer song and today although the trees were bare and grey of late November, the temperature almost tempted me to go swimming down at Pomps Pond. I love it and I hate it. Its such a delight to have this kind of warmth when the winter is bearing down, and the truth of global climate change is all too apparent in our anomalous weather. It's a paradox I'm not quite comfortable inhabiting. And yet, I loved my walk in the sunshine just wearing shirtsleeves - in November!

There are coyotes in the suburbs, they hunt the little critters in our yard, so we're on the list of take out places. I don't mind that they come to hunt, nothing wants to eat voles (I saw a hawk spit one out one day) except the coyotes. I've encountered one twice in person - in early morning during a compost run and one night when the dog and I were returning from a before bed walk. No more putting Rascal on the lead to go out in the yard and play. Too many hungry carnivores around, we have fox as well. And she would be a tasty bit on a leash. Served up al fresco. . .

To Earth All Things Return

I was noticing the acridity of the air today - it's that late autumn smell of decaying leaves and since it was quite warm on my walk this afternoon. I blasted out of work and went off to walk around Pomps Pond and through to Ballardvale. It was late enough in the day that I saw a beaver out for a late day swim. The beaver didn't slap it's tail at me, that's only happened once. I had hoped this one would warn me off, when we became aware of each other, but maybe the beaver figured it was just too cold for a furless critter like me to venture into the water. At any rate it continued it's leisurely swim with little concern for my presence. The beavers have taken down some good sized trees so I'm not sure I want to provoke a rodent that's capable of felling a full grown hardwood. I also encountered a great blue heron in the marsh. Probably interupted his evening fishing. Ooops.

Parts of the path have been blown clear of most leaves, and they are settling into the dried grasses, beginning the slow process of decay, retuning to the earth. As every leaf does. Every blade of grass. And one day me too. There are worse ways to end one's existence.

Fall Fells

Hike-Ku for Middlesex Fells

Cold sun, leafy slide
Up and Down and Up and Down
Again and again.

I am tired. We hiked a mere 7.2 miles, but the whole hike was a series of up and downs over rocky ledges and short steep down climbs, complicated by the freshly fallen oak leaves. Those beautiful glossy oak leaves? The gloss translates into polished which translates into slippery. Imagine many layers of loose wax paper piled up on top of rocks. A recipe for disaster if you're not careful and if you are, a recipe for very sore thighs and calves. Even my glutes hurt.

It was worth it. A glorious sunny chilly day, lots of views and fresh air all the way. With Steve. Sans dog. The last time we did this hike in very warm weather, I ended up carrying Rascal for about half of it. Not today. And since this is close to my work and I've had a few "meeting" walks with outdoorsy types, I discovered that it's also a place where the 7ft leash law is conspicuously ignored. Then home for bath and dinner and ibuprofen and early bed. Another rowdy Saturday night at 63. Woo hoo!!!!!!

I had fun taking pictures of our shadows. Steve's head really isn't that little and my hips really aren't that big. They're not are they?

When Maine Girls Go Bad

nuff said.

Tech Week

No, I'm not in a show, but this is the week when I am wired, hooked in, connected, linked whatever. I have had a couple of webinars with headset and chat windows and power point. No videos thank heavens. And then I was a guinea pig for a usability study at MIT. That was both kind of interesting and incredibly weird. You sit in front of a keyboard and screen and an VERY serious MIT person gives you a set of tasks and you're supposed to think out loud by talking through what you're doing and how you make decisions. Because it's all at the speed of the internet it seemed more like one of those old American Express commercials where the guy talks a mile a minute about efficiency or shipping or something. And since I speak in non sequiters on a regular basis - clarity of thought may not have been my most apparent trait while performing the given tasks. But I had fun and I got an insider look at geek central, MIT. They are all about 10 and smart, smart, smart.

This picture comes from nineteenth century tech. I took a few shots of the interior of the tower at Mount Auburn last week and I love seeing how carefully the stones were shaped, placed and fitted to make this structure. Tech or craft? You decide.

Now Talk or IM or Tweet or Something

I'm going to be a facilitator for a round table "Autism Speaks" town meeting, next week. This week I am taking the webinar. A very curious phenomena. You take one very relational old fashioned thing like a lecture, or a discussion and you add elements of technology and all of a sudden it's new and accessible to so many more people. My webinar class consists of people from LA, Chicago, Atlanta etc. listening to a lecture on the phone, busily multitasking and interacting via social media and our very own laptops. How far people have come in a few short years. And we're running the facillitation in the same way too. People communicating to the others in the room and to the others who are in a completely different city across the continent. Will it make us better at policy conversations? Will it make us more sensitive to different perspectives? I can only hope. Otherwise I'm making friends with totally irrelevant technology and we're spending an awful lot of time and money trying to stay current with machine advancements.

November woods

Hike-Ku for Goldsmith Woodlands

Copper, Bronze, Old Gold
November's leafy burnish
settles on the woods.

You can see from the picture that I was busily collecting precious metals. Or a variety of scarlet and pin oak leaves colored like them.

And now for something completely different: Steve and I went for a hike. "Nooooooooo", I hear you saying. . .We took a turn around the Goldsmith woods - a place we usually cross country ski through - but it is the 60 in 60 book, so off we went. And wow, it gets dark early in the woods. Really early. Like 4:15 early and since we didn't get started until we were done with our respective work days we ran out of daylight pretty fast. Time to start carrying the flashlight when we leave for the woods at this time of year. It was beautiful though - and unmistakeably November in the woods. And, I always love to report this kind of thing - because, well, at my age, how often do you say "we saw something new at a place we've been going for years". It's kind of like my excitement over the new very cool and tasty way to cook Kale. We found a boardwalk we never knew existed on the Foster's pond end of the reservation. It was built in 2004, another of the ubiquitous Eagle Scout projects that dot conservation land around here, but apparently every time we've been by it's been covered by snow and at the bottom of a short but very steep grade, so we did not explore further. One truism of the woods is that snow completely changes your relationship to the topography

How Did THAT Happen?

Overnight it seems we went from this












To this

All Souls

More headstone art from yesterday. This angel looks like a bureaucrat, not particularly the type to inspire confidence in the afterlife. If his expression is any indication, the afterlife isn't going to be particularly jolly. Either that or he's a heavenly accountant?
I spent most of the day working, and was grateful to see the almost full moon rise over the ragged leaves of autumn even though it was an hour earlier! Then home to a delicious meal prepared by Steve and Kate. This being pampered is something I could get used to.