Review: Hard to believe……500th review over the last eight years or so…. must need something else to do……This is a very complicated first novel from the author of “All the Light We Cannot See”, which I reviewed here and loved. Doerr is meticulous in his writing and at times a bit hard to keep up with. This is a sweeping story of a tortured hydrologist and his quest for some form of truth and meaning…. lots and lots of minutia about all things water in the book, most of it symbolic. The story takes place over 30 or so years moving from Anchorage to Cleveland to St. Vincent’s in the Caribbean, as the protagonist tries to find his wife and daughter, who he abandoned in in 1979 during a flood in Cleveland that he had dreamed would occur (a frequent event in the book). He has no idea if his daughter had died in the flood and escapes to the Caribbean, living a minimalist existence and obsessing over the causal link between his dreams and people’s horrific misfortunes- possibly even his daughter’s death. I was inclined to give up on this book multiple times, but it kept me just enough hooked to carry on, and was glad I did. This is a book that takes time to read and absorb, but is ultimately quite moving.
“When you get there, there isn’t any there there”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Gertrude Stein
“On a bare branch a crow settles in autumn dusk”
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Basho
“At That Pond, the frog is growing old now-among
fallen leaves” ……………………………………………………………………………………………………Buson
And then they rested………. after weeks of big Barn
projects, we put down the sledge and the anvil, and went back to mostly doing little
of nothing…. though we got the Big Barn/Garage cleaned up and organized for the
first time in eight years of living here…is it nap time yet?……….Old Nanna
and Papi managed to move a 600-pound trough out of the way in the barn, and immediately
made chiropractor appointments……………
The Queen takes command of the gardens……and
has now covered half the acreage in plastic and hay bales in preparation for
turning The Inn into a nursery……AND…. we had our first homegrown water melon
EVER…along with the bounty of daily tomatoes and such…TQ has also constructed a
mélange of doors, windows and coverlets to protect the maters form the 30
degree range of nightly weather as the autumn begins in earnest here in the mountains…….
How can 30 degree nights turn into 80 degree
days??????????????
We had a slow holiday weekend after the massive
outbreak of cases after a party at Killington mountain ……fifteen in one day,
which eclipsed the previous four weeks’ statewide totals…panic set in……and then
went away…and we now have armed battalions of Greenie Troopers at the border to
keep out the New Yorkers and Jerseyites……seriously, ski lodge parties?
Really?
Fifty-one more days of insanity……one can only
hope……is it really possible that we could have him back for four more years….does
anyone care about dignity, integrity and humanity???…..C’mon people now,
smile on your brother……just in case , we are planning on joining the hidden huddled
masses in safe houses in Derby-Line on the border, to jump The WALL into Canada…and
see if we can get yellow cards, or whatever it is they have there….please don’t
make us go….
More dinners on the ground………had a magnificent late
lunch at the home of the slightly brain damaged surgeon and his lovely bride on
Tuesday……hours of five course meal and paired wines in the autumn sunshine, surrounded
by mountains in their Weston abode……is this what retirement might look like….in
Canada?…………….
More DOTG…. this afternoon the Master French Chef
and his Francophile wife are coming over for yard dinner…. allegedly bringing
the real deal Crème Brule……what will we do in a month when it is too cold for
outside dining?……back to Quarantinie?………………..
Day Trippin’…….a one way ticket, yeah…it took me
sooooo long to find out……Did long day trip on Thursday up to Middlebury to visit
the new dispensary (drive though…would you like fries with your edibles?)….and
lunch at Mama Corleone’s….then, dirt road, six mile walk through dappled late afternoon
sunlight…..then yesterday, after the requisite Saturday trip to see the Dumpmaster,
we headed down to the Weston Priory, though The Brothers must have gone to Atlantic
City for the weekend….empty fall glory by their magnificent pond (why do they still
have water in theirs? Godliness?) ……then up mountain dirt roads to the hamlet
of Landgrove for another walk in the woods….
Finished the day with an early dinner on the ground
in Rutland , at the chiropractor’s deserted compound (one of many of our go-to
picnicin’ tables to eat take out without driving home)…..prefect late day setting
sunlight…still a shocking 73 degrees…..fountain flowing in idyllic-pond….Lucy
chasing chipmunks on her own version of heaven……had to stop on the way at the vocational
school, where we scoped out a spigot by their greenhouses, to give Lucy her 500th
road bath…since Jenn would not let her in the car after she found rolling mana…..
Won’t you scratch my itch, sweet Annie Rich……….
Leaves, Leaves, Leaves………….
Speaking of my muse, Gram Parsons, Nave, Max, Mitch
and I have been working on the virtual band platform on getting a take on my
new song, New Days’ Risin’ on the Blues……. I am attaching it to this e-mail for
anyone interested in the lyrics……if you read The Blog on the Web, it won’t be
available…have to go old school e-mail to open the attachment……but here’s a verse
and chorus…… like it or not……Started this song in 1975 as love and heartbreak
song…now it’s turned into a shit storm and heartbreak song….
The fever’s raining down upon us,
The cost we pay for shutdown eyes.
Howlin’ winds and storms all around us,
Led by the Devil in Disguise.
Decades down the road,
Can’t let that train be slowed.
What happened to our promised land?
Lost tryin’ to cross the Rio Grande.
We need to reach for livin’ true,
A new day’s risin’ on the blues.
And that’s about the scope of it……Ry and Lauren
coming for a visit this week with g-daughters Quin-Lily and Baby Harper…. got
to go kid proof the manse……. Later than today, but not as late as tomorrow….
Review: Hamilton, the author of the long
running and wonderful Alex McKnight mystery series, also writes standalone
books and this is his latest….and a total gem. Like film noir??…. this is for
you. I can imagine a young Robert Mitchum in the lead role. It’s a murder story
shrouded in the cacophony of a man’s devastating grief and loss. Joe Trumbull
is quite the everyman- a widower, jazz lover, boxer and ………of all things…. a
juvenile probation officer, in…. of all places……Kingston, New York. As someone
who has worked in juvenile justice for most of my adult life, this is a rare treat
and the life is portrayed pretty well. As someone who has spent considerable time
in the sleepy city of Kingston, that an unusual, and appreciated, choice for
venue. Honestly, could not put his one down, and devoured it in three readings.
Hamilton is really good.
Greetings and Happy Holiday weekend- such as it
is:
“A man is known by the silence he keeps” …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Oliver Herford
“Your practice is your life” ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Zen Saying
“After the Ecstasy……………………………. the Laundry” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
More Zen
These are the TEN THINGS I learned this week in the Mountains:
It is legal to vote more than once in national elections– apparently our fearless leader has ruled that we can all vote by mail
andthen go and vote in person. I’m thinking that since I live in two
places, I can therefore vote four times if I make the effort……………I’m really glad
we now have this option to clear up any concerns with voter fraud….
Twenty-two month olds now trot off in the morning to get the school
bus……apparently to go to virtual school……. just
see the pictures!!!
There is indeed Fire in the Hole– The way
to eradicate ground holes with Bee Colonies in them is too blow up the hole-
The Queen got this from The Dumpmaster and has spent the better part of the
last week pouring accelerants into various holes in in the yard and then setting
them on fire…an endless crusade to not be bit again, which requires very special
outfits……she is now The Queen Bee too……
Long curling locks suddenly appearing on an aging hipster draw a lot of
notice and comments- ranging from “Hey Hippie Boy” to “Are
you really Charlie Rich” to “Is that really you?” ……liking the idea of emulating
the old Bluegrass Legends……can you say “Uncle Pen?” …….
Who Knew?????…. Barn Projects never end- After finishing all the siding on the old horse barn, we spent this week
pouring concrete in holes in the foundation corners, that may go all the way to
China……building new barn windows, and trying to erect a gutter/downspout system
without buying any materials (have already made too many trips to the Depot for
Corona times) ….is this really My Destiny?????……..
When the Barn Projects are done for the day, the Jewish Pig Farmer (and the JPF Bride) arrive unannounced for Bonding and dinner- filthy, sweaty and tired is a wonderful time to greet unannounced and rare guests….but when you need Bonding, apparently you need Bonding…..had an hour and a half of exorcising from The JPF…and then …POOF…gone…leaving dinner behind for us to heat up…apparently they got hungry on the 20 minute drive over and needed to stop by the side of the road to eat their part of dinner…………………..only in Vermont….
The British Hairdresser comes for dinner and tries to move in- Lovely night, dinner on the ground (TQ outdid herself….real whipped cream
with her freshly made Rhubarb Cake), cuts an trims on the deck….from our friend
Cockney Tracy…..while she lobbied for the newly remodeled and electrified Horse
Barn as potential dwelling while she sells her house and considers whether to
buy a new one or live off the land…..we would have to build a tiny outhouse for
her….but What the Hell….we would then have The TTT…..Tracy-The-Tenant….
Top Secret Newsflash– The Canadians
are halfway finished with building a masked-wall to keep us out……
There is no public access to lovely Lake St. Catherine- headed down along majestic Route 30, between the walled mountain corridor
where the hawks make their abode, for picnic outing….beautiful lake, but only for
those who own it….wound up in the village of Poultney for picnic and hike up the
secret dirt lane to the hidden, mountain, tiered cemetery….maybe the biggest in
the state, with stones dating back to the mid-1700s….who knew?…..and learned
that men often outlive their wives in Vermont…..enlightening……
And that’s all I got….so only nine lessons learned
this week…. but then…who’s counting anyway?……………….
Wear you masks…save a life……stay well…try to have
some fun……
Review: another in long line of culturally
sensitive books my daughter has given me, with obvious implications. This is Owens,
a longtime Naturalist’s first novel, and it a gem. Set in coastal North Carolina
from 1952 to 1970, it is the story of “The Marsh Girl” (Kya) , a young woman deserted
by all her family as a seven year old, who raises herself in the wetlands of
the remote Outer Banks. It’s a masterful Whodunit mixed in with a beautiful coming
of age story and a treatise of the ecology of the swamp. Beautifully written and
told, with characters that jump off the page. Starts a bit slowly, but becomes
hypnotic………….did not want it to end……ever.
“Wonder is the beginning of wisdom” …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Socrates
“Autumn night- a hole in my paper door whistling”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Issa
“Therein lies one of life’s biggest lessons. Ain’t
got nothin’ to with deserve. Just pray to the Saint of Lost Causes” …………………………………….
Justen Townes Earle
Autumn seemed to come and
leave……Monday was a hot and humid 82 (felt like 95) ……and we spent the day digging
trenches, burying conduit and cable line and being go-fers for the electrician,
but finished with first ever electric service to the horse barn and the bunkhouse….
let there be light……which finishes the “quickie” 100-hour barn project….and allows
Papi to return to the couch….and the Queen to resume her royal duties……
Back working with the Caribbean
folks on some virtual training for Dominica and Anguilla (not quite like being there)
…and back on Carib time……have a Zoom, respond with what they ask for the same
day…wait two weeks for them to send me the next step……may get the training in
sometime in the next millennium…. but, its ok mon……no rush…don’t worry…be
happy…………………………
Has anyone else bought Zoom stock?
Car Repair in the Mountains
#3- had to go back to the wilds of New Hampshire to the only place in the northeastern
United States that would repair my exhaust system….because the other local mechanic
told me it was too loud and something was not right….so drove an hour plus back
to the Jesus repairs shop (the whole road is one big Evangelical love fest…see
the mailbox photo)….and found that even Acolytes can be vindictive…..the holy- mechanic-
man, obviously irritated that I came back, and doubted The Lord’s Work, made me
sit in the car while he put it up on the highest lift height I have ever seen,
and then made me run the engine rpms up above 80 mile per hour…..I could see
out the garage door to the mountains of Maine,
and felt certainly like I was due for takeoff at any moment…kept me up there for
15 minutes without saying a word….brought me down, grunted it was fine, and sent
me on my way…..
Found Jenn and Lucy hiking the
dirt road, so joined in for the Jesus tour…which apparently comes with The Lord’s
Own Airfield…. did I mention that it poured rain all day…………? I have now decided
that the exhaust system is just fine….
Friday the sun came back out
and it was a gorgeous low 60s-so we took off again, away from New Hampshire and
The Lord’s Work…and down through Ludlow and Chester to the charm of tiny Grafton….
finding our way to an old traveling haunt of ours, the Grafton Swimming Hole,
for a picnic lunch…and then the de rigueur dirt road walk…. they had a “pop up”
set up in the middle of little dirt road Main St. Grafton…. does anyone really
know what a “pop up” is?
Saturday a rainy day again….so
after the requisite weekend trip to see The Dumpmaster, the Postmistress and
the Library biddies…..I spent most of the afternoon overhauling the front of
our big barn/garage…..clearly a Corona-based activity…..hiding most of The Queens
four thousand, five hundred and thirty flower pots in the process….after that,
it was definitely nap time…and then headed down the 140 to Wallingford to do Sal’s’ South for red gravy dinner pick
up….the drive down was a mystical experience with bright in –the –eyes- setting
sun intermingled with intense fog…made me look for another Jesus airfield………
After waiting for Sal to call
me in for one-in- at- a time dinner pickup (I am somehow known as Walt there….
Papi Walt…like it) …. I was hosing down in the car before heading back up the mount,
when Lucy saw three dogs being walked by, and hurtled into the front seat,
going berserk and knocking red gravy all over the car. I was so startled, I smacked
her and shoved her in the back…and have been depressed ever since. She looked
at me with such shock……was the first time in seven years I had laid hands on
her, and felt like we had lost out innocence…. power and control…. blah, blah,
blah…….
Just went upstairs for a
moment to find TQ repurposing our cellar vegetable bin into a shoe rack, taking
up residence in our bedroom…with the rest of the produce……
Has anyone ben keeping up with
the NBA playoffs? Is it me, or is the NBA the most socially conscious business in
the country…. You go ballers……
Being courted by the Vermont Law
School to do some online course teaching this fall and winter……………
Hmmmmm?……..a virtual classroom of wannabe lawyers?…….Better pay well.
Purchase of the summer….
twenty bucks on line for a state of the art, bull goose looney, inflatable raft
with cup holders, headrest and built in sauna…. which will likely stay in the
box until it is warm enough again to go in The Pond…maybe nest July?
Dinner on the ground this afternoon
at the manse of the French Chef and his Francophile Wannabe Bride………
And that, as he said, is all
she wrote, mes amis……
Darling je vous aime beaucoup,
I just don’t know what to do……
Review: Chilling and suspenseful first
novel that baffled me throughout. The book starts in London with a disturbed woman
killing her husband and goes on a whirlwind from there. It is told through the lens
of her equally disturbed psychotherapist, and the erstwhile murderess’ journals,
and is full of unusual twists and turns. Not a traditional mystery, and more of
a full blown treatise on borderline personalities. The psychological themes and
jargon are well researched and the use very short chapters allow for absorbing
the intense narrative. I had no idea where this was going until the very end. Quite
an inaugural effort, though the writing has some maturing to do. A number one
NY Times bestseller, which was gifted to me, and made me wonder about the symbolism
off that.
‘It’s taken me all my life to learn what not to play”
…………………………………………………………………………………Dizzy Gillespie
“The butterfly counts not months but the moments.
And has time enough” ……………………………………………Rabindrnath Tagore
“You crawl, you walk….and then, you run” ……………………………………………………………………………………………….
Clay Davis (in The Wire)
Been a whiz of a week…what is there really to say
these days?……………………………….We worked, we shopped, we
masked, we finished our Quarntinie……How much can one scribe pour out……Lets
keep it brief-with almost -one – liners for this week’s missive……
The Queen said we had a SMALL project to do….
spent much of the week tearing down the back of the old horse barn, burning 48 straight
hours of junk wood, making massive trip see The Dumpmaster (“why don’t you come
up here alone and leave the missus at home, and I’ll go make her a visit?” ………………then
putting up all new barn siding……. left de circle, right de circle…
I keep telling TQ that little Jewish boys from
the Bronx don’t do these sort of things……but memo apparently missed….
Mountain days and nights swinging back and forth
from high humid summer to autumn in the breeze……spotted first maples changing
color this week…. what will we do when we can’t hang with folks in outdoor settings?
Does everyone Zoom in their underwear?…………that’s
how we roll for work in the new normal….
Making music on a web platform with your posse….
not ideal, but still pretty cool…. working on new age protest song with The
Nave and the Prodigal on line……
Getting the hang of dinner on the ground…. had
The Erstwhile Russian Spy and the Venerated School Marm for cookout last night…sat
through light summer rain under the pines…. still no one has entered the abode
here since our June return…. but TQ requires social gatherings, thus dinner on the
ground….
Better late than never…. we are working through
five seasons of “The Wire” …which I resisted for years in stubborn reaction to
the constant “better-than-sex” proclamations from my Baltimore friends…. Well….it
probably is!!!!!…. may be best show ever on the Tube…. Would love to have Omar
over for dinner……
The Convention: All conventions should be
virtual-best I’ve seen……John Kasich????…man has guts……Julia Dreyfus-off her
nut. We wept through Barack’s speech……can we just have him back?…….how could
we, as a people, go from that …to THIS?…….cannot say Joe bowled us over….
but such a decent, good, caring man…how many votes can I cast?……..
Whilst…. The Numchuck says NO to a fed judges’
order to release his taxes, has more of his appendages charged with election related
felonies, promotes a new Covid miracle drug, jumps all over criticizing New Zealand
for having 13 new cases…. calls everyone at the convention names, and continues
his efforts to sabotage the election/democracy daily….in my old world, we called
this adjustment reaction to adolescence……. if we were being generous
And now……have to go move dirt to finish the grading
on the new back barn….and get ready for this week’s assault on getting electric
to all the out buildings…. gotta love a SMALL project…. Que sera, sera…….
Keeping my word on brevity- for once……go out
and enjoy a blessed, Masked day…….
Review: The 19th book in the
Kate Burkholder series is the best yet in my estimation. In a major departure,
the entire story more or less takes place in a snowbound Amish house in the
fictitious Painters Mill, Ohio. This book delves into Kate’s challenging past
and her break from her origin Amish family and community, as well as the introduction
of a fascinating character from her past. Additional bonus for some of us- much
of the book is centered on Columbus, Ohio and deadly corruption in the Columbus
Police Department-allegedly fictional (but some of us would be believers). The main
series characters have developed very well over the years, the writing is taut and
suspenseful, the sense of Amish life, culture and place is extraordinary. Very,
very compelling reads.
Notable People: Anna
Friel, Ray Panthaki, Aaron Mccusker, Amanda Burton Created by: Nicola Larder, Hans Rosenfeldt
Title: Marcella
Review: this is one strange show. Over three seasons,
Marcella has transformed from a slightly intense, overzealous London cop to an absolute
madwoman. She is nuts-multiple personalities, borderline, schizoid…you name it….
but dedicated to laying herself on the line in penultimate dangerous situations.
A not- to- be -messed with woman avenger. The show is a maze of plot that is
hard to keep up with at times, and the support characters are a bit stereotypical,
but Friel saves the whole shebang with an over the top performance not to be
missed. So intense and dark it is hard to watch it on consecutive nights…. but
fascinating just the same.
