Sunday, July 29, 2012

Rainy Days and Sundays Always....

What do you do when it rains for days on end?  
What do you do when it rains for days and days and you are at the cottage?
What do you do when it rains and you don't have kids anymore to you take outside in any weather, just for distraction?

Well, there's the computer, the television, books, cookies and cider, jigsaw puzzles, solitaire, popcorn and the movies.  None of those things is keeping me terribly enthralled.  

Ta Da!
I'm quilting up a storm, all by myself.

This machine belonged to my friend Lesley, who lost her battle with breast cancer two summers ago.  As  things come together, one piece at a time, Lesley and I have been having a lovely-rainy-day chat.  She keeps telling me to get out on my bike and ignore the weather.

Do you hear the driving shuttle of the sewing machine, the hiss and spit of the steam iron, the clap and snap of a shaken out yardage?
It's storming in here!

This king-size quilt top has to be finished to a point where I can transport it by Wednesday.  Right now, it is a cazillion pieces, organized by colour and design, laying on the bed.

There's another two days of drips in the forecast.
I know what I'll be doing with myself--how about you?

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Black and White Wednesday

Sis and I drove to the ancient, still working fishing village of Stonington, Maine last week.  It's about a 40 minute ride from the Cape and made a great spot for a lunch outing.

This little village on the point of Deer Isle, is a photographer's paradise.  Every time I blinked, there was something else to "shoot":  gardens, fishing shacks, piled up lobster traps, houses built on bedrock.  

Enroute, we stopped at Caterpiller Hill Lookout to enjoy the view and pick a handful of blueberries.  Being a seasonal resident here in Down East Maine lets me see the same old things in new ways every time I come back.  I have probably shot this harbour more times that I can count, but there is always something new to see.

As I post today's B&W photo, I am not entirely happy with the poor depth-of-field.  Thinking back on it, I realize I should have changed the settings and gone for a higher f stop.  Ah well,  next time.
Still, I like the sky and the weathered look of the wood.

The ubiquitous Adirondack chair.

Here she sits, 
weathered by the elements, 
inviting us to rest and take in a peaceful view of the harbour.

What do you use to rest and relax on your back deck?  
A hammock?
A swing?
A lounge chair?

Have you stopped by Like Christmas Every Day to see the other B&W's on display?  It's definitely worth the visit.
This week, there is a family wedding over at the North Pole and so the B&W's are waiting until next week.  I'm just in such a rut, I have to keep going no matter what. 

Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Wings of Dawn

 Where can I go from Your Spirit
Or where canI flee from Your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of dawn,
If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
Even there Your hand will lead me,
And your right hand will lay hold of me.
                                             Psalm 139: 7 - 10

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Black and White Wednesday Around the Cape

Out and about the Cape this week, I have been enamoured anew by the sights and smells of this heavenly Eden.

The grassy fields

Lupins and wild flowers

Never-ending rocky shores

Being that a Cape, by definition, is a land mass projecting into a body of water,
we walk, bike, drive the circle route around the area.
On the same evening,
I shot the sunset on one side... 

and the moon rise on the other.
  A full, pink moon, rising over Weir Cove.

Where are you guys walking, biking and driving to appreciate scenery these days?
Do you take your camera with you?

Please do click on the picture to enlarge and appreciate the spiky texture of the rotting wood posts contrasting the softer lichen and moss and fine grasses.

I am pleased to report that my last submission for the judges at "Like Christmas Everyday" won second place.  So many talented photographers, together with Mrs. Claus, display their work each week.  Why not link in and join the fun!

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Fire! Fire! Fire!

After seven years "working the wood" here in Maine every spring, cutting back the relentless advance of the brush into our living space on Cape Rosier, we have amassed a huge bundle of cuttings that need to be put somewhere.  
"Somewhere" had become the far corner of the property, on the crest of the hill leading down to the beach.  Seven years of collected brush that doesn't go away tends to grow bigger and bigger and ..... Finally, it had begun to obscure the view!

Hubby wants to buy a chipper.  We're talking LOTS OF MONEY here.  I say, let's just burn that dead and dying brush and move on.  I can find about a zillion different ways to spend $6000.00  As my sweet husband spent hours this week perusing on-line catalogues of wood-devouring machinery available for the laymen of the woods, I phoned up the local municipal offices and got a burn permit.

  A simple yellow form.
   Kinda pretty.

  Came with a 4 foot neon-pink, plastic ribbon stapled to the top lefthand corner, that if it were to become airborne, would indicate too much wind to light fires on our appointed burn date.  Don't tell anyone, but after 12 inches of rain over the past three days, we didn't even give the ribbon a chance to flutter in the wind.  There would be no danger of run-away fire.

I was the first one up and on the job by 8 am.  The tide was on the way out--time to get that brush down onto the beach.  It soon became obvious I was not a working-the-wood, born-and-bred-in-Maine type.
 I am from "Away".
I needed to recruit some help.  

Dripping platter-size drops of sweat, I gave in and sat down to wait for re-enforcements.  Our boys were on their way and would arrive by noon.

I was nice. 
 I made them lunch and let them change their clothes after their two-day drive before I put them to work.

The immensity of the brush pile, half on the bank and half down on the beach getting ready to be burned was awesome!

The old picnic table was so rotted, we added it to the pile.

While the fire got really going, we watched the boats passing by on Penobscot Bay.

Nelson got worn out chasing his ball as it bounced over the seaweed pads and big rocks.

In all the excitement, there HAD to be a moment of drama.
I fell on the sharp rocks.
I killed myself, I almost fainted from the pain and I cried.

As there was no ice available, a bag of frozen green beans was pressed into emergency ice-pack-duty.  For all the tears and pain, the only result was a small cut and a huge bruise.  Even my camera that smashed on the rocks too, came away totally fine.  Hurrah!

This project took the whole day.  
From the turn of the tide at 8 in the morning, 'til the tide flooded back and washed away all evidence of a fire at 8 at night, we worked hard.

Our reward was dinner out at Buck's Harbour Market Restaurant.  A wonderful venue, great service and delicious food.  
The best part was the company.
Nothing like a family that works together in love!  Thanks Boys--you're the best!!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Parades By Land and Sea

The tiny Harborside Parade.
Simple fun in the style of Norman Rockwell vintage.

 Christmas in July, complete with Yuletide music.  Candy canes and lollipops came raining down on us.


 A lobster Pirate.

 Poet Laureate Dan Hoffman reads the Declaration of Independence.

Sea Gulls, squawking and dropping spoonfuls of curdled milk-- "Best in Show".

The Alien.

Flags waving in the wind.


Tractor circa 1952

My Grandniece sat on her Daddy's shoulder to view the fun.  Her favs were the fire truck and the yummy candies.


Bedecked in sparkles and beads.

The Harborside Cannon.

When the parade had marched up and then back down the one street of the hamlet, the crowd (maybe 120 people) gathered to pledge allegiance to the flag, sing God Bless America, listen to the local valedictorian recite the Gettysburg Address and Dan Hoffman read the Declaration of Independence, then cheer on the contestants in the pie-eating contest.
The rain held off just long enough.

Back at the cottage, we had front row seats for a second parade:
Tall Ships leaving Bucks Harbor enroute to Castine and then Camden.

The Tall Ships made it in fair winds.  This solo ketch raced the front home, trying to beat the squalls.

The word of the day was "Nostalgia".  
A rather low-key celebration here at the Cape.  We were happy to have Hubby's sister and family with us to share in the festivities.
Family still comes first when we count the many blessings we cherish here in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

How was your day?
Did your fireworks get rained out, like ours, or did you blast the skies with splendour?
Happy Birthday USA.