I haven’t seen my dear little Buster in over a week, and Sunny hasn’t been by since last month. I did see a fox run into the woods near Buster’s burrow a few days ago. I also heard a hawk in the woods later that day. Maybe it was the same hawk that dive-bombed my neighbor’s bird-seed party, the attendants of which were numerous songbirds and the chipmunk that lives in her front yard.
This morning we attended services at Saint Peter’s By the Sea in Cape Neddick now that the summer chapels are opening for the season. Next week our beloved Saint Anne’s will be opening where we’ll attend services all summer. So excited! I dream about it all winter. We stopped at Perkins Cove in Ogunquit on the way to church:
This past Sunday on the way to church Wayne and I stopped at the flea market, or rather, he sat in the car to read the New Yorker as I made my rounds. I had decided earlier in the week that the antique primitive jelly cupboard that I had repurposed into a shoe closet in my home office is too glorious to not be in my kitchen. I simply needed to find three antique crates that would stack nicely to coordinate with the others I had to take its place.
While I think it’s a sin to pray for material possessions, especially luxury wishes, the flea market fairies with whom I had shared my wishes delivered in a very crafty way! The price was right and I carried my new treasure all the way back to the car which, true to a flea find, was dusty and a bit dirty. It left some light soiling on my chinos as it brushed up against my legs as I walked. Yikes! I quickly decided it was simply a patina on my pants and it was fine for church.
George H.W. Bush had always simply been a former President to me and Wayne, that is until we became members of St. Ann’s. We’ve had the honor to witness the Bush family as human beings and fellow parishioners, and are moved by how genuinely lovely they are. We had many conversations after that first time we saw them about how we both had been guilty of dehumanizing them over the years if we didn’t agree with decisions they had made as politicians. Seeing them as a close-knit family where former Presidents are loving fathers and grandpas was a teaching moment and humbling. Our hearts and prayers are with the Bush family as they grieve the loss of a wonderful human being, great grandpa, grandpa and father.
In the news: Kennebunkport pays homage to a fellow townsman
I shot these photos two years ago when Wayne and I took a morning walk in Calvary Cemetery, South Portland. We spoke of life, death, and the mystery of what’s to come. The sunlight, crisp air and golden descent of decaying leaves back to earth where they will cover and nourish the ground was stunning. When I looked into the “eyes” of the old moss covered statues they seemed to be possessed with the spirits of people we’ve never met.
Last week I noticed what appeared to be a large bird in my woods. I walked closer and saw that it was a hawk. Hawks eat chipmunks and are not welcome on my property, especially when they are dangerously close to Buster’s burrow at the edge of the woods. In animated NYC fashion I told it to get lost. Perched on a branch up high it watched my little performance, and when I was finished it flew away. There! I showed him!
My yard is full of surprises. I was deadheading roses and noticed this Wooly Bear caterpillar. On a cabbage, what looked like detritus simply hopped away. It’s this garden variety of unannounced visitors that I welcome. What was absolutely terrifying was when a mystery object came crashing down from above!
I have a genetic predisposition to being at higher risk for skin cancer, so I see a dermatologist for an annual skin exam. I had a mole on my arm that looked different from all of the others and my dermatologist had said we should keep an eye on it. About two weeks ago I noticed that it was changing: it was darker and starting to have uneven borders. What really frightened me was when I happened to notice in a photo of me from 2013 that it wasn’t even on my arm! It’s not normal to grow new moles when you’re over forty. I called her office to be seen and she agreed that it should be biopsied.
I am so saddened to learn about the passing of Barbara Bush. She has been a personal inspiration to me for two very specific reasons that I’d like to share here that were encapsulated in this one excerpt:
In 1980, George ran for president. There were endless receptions, luncheons, dinners and fundraisers. For the campaign, Barbara had to choose an official cause. She picked literacy, which became a lifelong passion. “I realized everything I worried about” – teen pregnancy, hunger, homelessness, drug use, crime – “would be better if more people could read, write and comprehend,” she later recalled. She was also pressured to change her image, with some family members urging her to “color my hair, change my style of dressing and, I suspect, get me to lose some weight,” she later recalled, driving her to tears. Jane Pauley of NBC opened a television interview by asking her: “People say your husband is a man of the ’80s and you are a woman of the ’40s. What do you say to that?” Barbara, though stung, declined to alter her matronly image, which instead helped her become one of her husband’s most powerful political assets. A critic, Andrew Sullivan of The New Republic magazine, called her “America’s queen mother” whose “mastery of frumpy do-goodery is, of course, modeled on the Windsors.”
Yesterday afternoon on his day off Wayne and I decided to drive to Kennebunkport to see our beloved St. Ann’s Episcopal Church before stopping at the antique shops in Arundel on the way back. I wasn’t prepared for the heartbreaking news that was to follow.