Our losses are magnified because we feel them together, but are alone and we can't be together to hold each other during this grieving time. Our community is mourning the death of Scott Stewart. I met him through my friend, Dianne whose daughter married him. His family adored him. He was fifty-one years old, witty, energetic, helpful, a loving husband and father, and the kind of man that people love being around. He grew up on the lower cape. He worked hard, rebuilt houses including his own, loved the beach, and he had many friends.
His wife Tracy will feel the pain the most, you could see the love they shared when they were together. A friend sent this to me after David died. I don't know who wrote it:
"I believe the hardest part of healing after you've lost someone you love, is to recover the "you" that went away with them."
It takes a long time; patience is required. I cry on a daily basis, but I also laugh, enjoy a good meal, cuddle with my pooch, and love. I love my sons, their families, my friends, my dog, and a walk on the beach. I was told that love never dies and I believe it.
They say we are in this together. We are. I feel your lose, Tracy. You will move forward taking the love with you. It does take time, the ache lessens but never goes away. The days will bring sunshine and eventually joy, because love never dies.
Oh WOW:
Three wild turkeys just walked past my window, the dog started baking like mad, and I laughed till I cried. I told DD to stop barking, let them be, you never know - if things get really bad they may be our Thanksgiving dinner.
I'm sending you some love today. Fair winds.
Thursday, May 14, 2020
Saturday, May 2, 2020
Glenn Miller and his Orchestra
Dancing around a may-pole on May 1st is a tradition in many countries, dancing to celebrate spring. We may not feel like celebrating anything these days, but I think it's important that we still dance. Music, movement, rhythm, what could be better? This morning I listened to the music of Glenn Miller and his orchestra from an album entitled, A String of Pearls. And I danced to celebrate life renewed, the coming of warmth, and the hope that springs eternal in our hearts. This music was written between 1937 -1942, before and during WWII. The music was meant to inspire love, hope, and faith that Johnny would come marching home again. We are fighting another kind of war, but our hearts are still inspired by faith, hope, and charity. We see it all around us during this CORVID-19 outbreak. But I danced today because I am grateful. I'm grateful that I can still dance. I'm grateful that I have family. I can make a cabbage soup today, I have a love bucket, and I have so much more.
I'm not forgetting those who are suffering. I cry everyday. I pray. And I understand the fear that we live with. We are living this tragedy together, and yet I've never felt so alone. We now know that what effects people in China, Italy, Britain, Korea, Brazil, India, and anywhere else on the planet -- effects us all. I will do what I can to protect myself, my community, my family. This stage in American history will soon belong to the past, just like Glenn Miller's music. We will look back at today and shake our heads, knowing what we have endured, knowing we did the best we could, just like those soldiers that Miller wrote his songs for.
And right now it means keeping at a distance from those I love. We are a people of love. We need each other, face to face. I don't get the same feeling from a screen. Face time doesn't let me put my hand on the head of my grandson to feel the new buzz cut his dad gave him. I love that fuzzy feeling from a newly shorn head. The summer buzz we called it.
I try to learn something new each day, it's a great way to pass the time. It's amazing what we can accomplish. I planted spinach, swiss chard, lettuce, and peas. I will do everything I can to protect the plants from rabbits, squirrels, and rodents. I'll put up fencing once the plants are above ground. I may try moth balls, and I'd use a BB gun if I had one. Last year the rabbits ate all my pole beans just as they were forming the string bean. Oh I was so mad. But I'm learning. This year I'm going to have the raised bed screened off. I'll show those buggers.
It reminds me of this terrible virus plaguing our world, we need to learn and protect ourselves. With help from our scientists, doctors, and teachers we will find safe passage through this storm. We will once again dance around the maypole and celebrate new life.
The music will play on, so get up and dance. We have to celebrate the renewal of Mother Earth. Stay safe, warm and dry. Fair Winds.
I'm not forgetting those who are suffering. I cry everyday. I pray. And I understand the fear that we live with. We are living this tragedy together, and yet I've never felt so alone. We now know that what effects people in China, Italy, Britain, Korea, Brazil, India, and anywhere else on the planet -- effects us all. I will do what I can to protect myself, my community, my family. This stage in American history will soon belong to the past, just like Glenn Miller's music. We will look back at today and shake our heads, knowing what we have endured, knowing we did the best we could, just like those soldiers that Miller wrote his songs for.
And right now it means keeping at a distance from those I love. We are a people of love. We need each other, face to face. I don't get the same feeling from a screen. Face time doesn't let me put my hand on the head of my grandson to feel the new buzz cut his dad gave him. I love that fuzzy feeling from a newly shorn head. The summer buzz we called it.
I try to learn something new each day, it's a great way to pass the time. It's amazing what we can accomplish. I planted spinach, swiss chard, lettuce, and peas. I will do everything I can to protect the plants from rabbits, squirrels, and rodents. I'll put up fencing once the plants are above ground. I may try moth balls, and I'd use a BB gun if I had one. Last year the rabbits ate all my pole beans just as they were forming the string bean. Oh I was so mad. But I'm learning. This year I'm going to have the raised bed screened off. I'll show those buggers.
It reminds me of this terrible virus plaguing our world, we need to learn and protect ourselves. With help from our scientists, doctors, and teachers we will find safe passage through this storm. We will once again dance around the maypole and celebrate new life.
The music will play on, so get up and dance. We have to celebrate the renewal of Mother Earth. Stay safe, warm and dry. Fair Winds.
Monday, April 13, 2020
Bumpy Ride
"Looks like we're in for a bumpy ride," Dave used to say every time the forecast put the winds in excess of fifty mph. Back in 1986, Dave had the F/V Richard & Arnold on his mooring because hurricane warnings had been posted. Many of the boats in our Provincetown fishing fleet were rafted together on the Coast Guard's moorings out in the cove. Dave planned on staying on board, tied to the mooring, with the engine on, jogging into it. He said it was our livelihood and he would do everything he could to keep it safe. The meteorologists named that storm Bob, with hurricane winds reaching over eighty mph. Dave called me on the CB radio and told me he couldn't leave the wheelhouse, couldn't see through the heavy rains. He said for me not to worry, (as if I wouldn't anyway), he would keep the engine on, he was safe. He said we had the best mooring in the harbor. I prayed. It just so happens that we have a son with the same name. While Dave was keeping the boat afloat, hoping the mooring would hold, I was home with the our sons, Jackson and Bob, and my sister Susan. The winds were howling. The four of us were playing Monopoly on the floor of the living room when the power went out. I gathered up lanterns, candles and flashlight, and checked our water supply. A sudden knocking on the front door caused us all to jump. Thinking it might be someone in need of help, we hustled to open the door. It was the UPS guy with a box in his hand. I berated him for being out in a hurricane. We offered him hospitality, but he said he had packages to deliver, it was safe, and he was doing fine. He gave us our surprise and we wished him well. We were so excited to open the package that had been delivered in the middle of a hurricane. It was a gift from Dave's cousin, Angel who lives in Florida. She was thanking us for having the family out on the boat the previous month, while they were visiting. The present was an electric tea kettle. The four of us sat on the living room floor, in candlelight and admired the kettle that we could not use. We huddled under blankets and pillows for the rest of the day. Around four o'clock that afternoon we heard and felt a thunderous noise. I kept telling everyone to stay away from the windows, but of coarse the boys had to know what that horrible crash was. Everyone peered into an eery green atmosphere to see our massive seventy-five foot Aspen tree with a twelve foot circumference, lying on its side, across our front yard. The top of the tree was well into the neighbors front yard. It had landed so that no wires, houses, cars, or persons were injured. We had so much to be thankful for.
After twenty-four hours, an exhausted Dave made his way back to his family who were more worried about him then about themselves. After all, the tree had missed us, the UPS guy said everything was fine out there and we had a new kettle. A bit of yard work was waiting for Captain Dave, but that could wait until the sun came out. We still have two of those huge trees in our front yard, and they continue to grow and thrive, and yet every time the wind picks up above fifty knots, I shudder. Stay safe, warm and dry, my friends. Fair winds
After twenty-four hours, an exhausted Dave made his way back to his family who were more worried about him then about themselves. After all, the tree had missed us, the UPS guy said everything was fine out there and we had a new kettle. A bit of yard work was waiting for Captain Dave, but that could wait until the sun came out. We still have two of those huge trees in our front yard, and they continue to grow and thrive, and yet every time the wind picks up above fifty knots, I shudder. Stay safe, warm and dry, my friends. Fair winds
Thursday, April 9, 2020
A whisper of hope
You might think that this new way of living, brought on by such a tiny thing, a Corid virus, would be good for a writer. Chained to the keyboard with nothing else to do. Like everyone else out there, I am having difficulty concentrating. I get depressed, I miss seeing family and friends, I worry about loved ones in New York, I pray for those with the virus, and for the families of those who have died. This thing that is plaguing us is something so new we have yet to understand the ramifications. How do you fight something so small it can only be seen with a microscope. The idea that we can be brought to a standstill by this killer virus, is unimaginable. It's like reading a sci-fi novel, only now we're living it.
I've always like the way bees live, with jobs, family, work, and order. We have to keep living like bees, only in some new, yet to be defined way.
I was used to the old ways, being a grandmother gives one a longer perspective. I had a sort of routine, writing, housework, three o'clock pick up of grandkids from school, shopping at the local grocery store, coming and going as needed. I'm now separated from it all. I am alone.
I spend more time binge / binging, (that terrible habit that I used to keep at a minimum,) now it absorbs me. I've wizzed through the English mysteries. Then it was on to Irish mystery, Canadain TV series. I have to admit Australian TV is a gas. I'm now working my way through New Zealand and Brokenwood murder mysteries. I've seen movies by the dozens. Loved, loved, loved The Green Book and Rocketman, wonderful films. I've watched series that I'd never heard of before. I'm either searching for the new norm or reminiscing about the way we used to live.
Dave always called me Pollyanna because I always saw the brighter side of everything, the glass half full. I remain positive, even in the face of this horrible, terrible crisis. The new normal is just around the corner, another new normal in a lifetime of new things, people, places. We all know that the only constant is change. I am hopeful that this will provide us with new opportunities, new ways of doing things, new ways of staying safe. We must remain hopeful. I can honestly say I hate what is happening, the disruption of civilization, like an earthquake that disassembles structure. In the aftermath we come together and help each other to rebuild. Life is precious, let's celebrate it. We need to remember that love is with us always, even when family and friends are not. We will get through this alone and together. Fair winds dear friends.
I've always like the way bees live, with jobs, family, work, and order. We have to keep living like bees, only in some new, yet to be defined way.
I was used to the old ways, being a grandmother gives one a longer perspective. I had a sort of routine, writing, housework, three o'clock pick up of grandkids from school, shopping at the local grocery store, coming and going as needed. I'm now separated from it all. I am alone.
I spend more time binge / binging, (that terrible habit that I used to keep at a minimum,) now it absorbs me. I've wizzed through the English mysteries. Then it was on to Irish mystery, Canadain TV series. I have to admit Australian TV is a gas. I'm now working my way through New Zealand and Brokenwood murder mysteries. I've seen movies by the dozens. Loved, loved, loved The Green Book and Rocketman, wonderful films. I've watched series that I'd never heard of before. I'm either searching for the new norm or reminiscing about the way we used to live.
Dave always called me Pollyanna because I always saw the brighter side of everything, the glass half full. I remain positive, even in the face of this horrible, terrible crisis. The new normal is just around the corner, another new normal in a lifetime of new things, people, places. We all know that the only constant is change. I am hopeful that this will provide us with new opportunities, new ways of doing things, new ways of staying safe. We must remain hopeful. I can honestly say I hate what is happening, the disruption of civilization, like an earthquake that disassembles structure. In the aftermath we come together and help each other to rebuild. Life is precious, let's celebrate it. We need to remember that love is with us always, even when family and friends are not. We will get through this alone and together. Fair winds dear friends.
Monday, February 10, 2020
Still writing
Watch for the Crow. New title for next Crowley mystery. I'm working on the new book, and yes life gets in the way sometimes, but I'm loving life, the grandkids, DD, walks, and eventually the new book. I still get down, deeply, but then I work on the second memoir- Arethusa- and I am filled with memories and love. I tend to get philosophical when I think about this new path I am on. I'm on my own for the first time in fifty years. It's different. Dave told me that you can only keep one thought in your head at a time and it might as well be a positive one. He also told me that I'd be okay. He was right on both counts. I am okay.
Writing my second memoir, the book Arethusa, gives me great pleasure. It also wrenches my heart because I will have to let it go when it is finished, and then I'll have to find another way to keep the memories alive. I am reluctant to finish it, so I turn to - Watch for the Crow - fantasy in the form of historic murder in our small fishing town at the end of the cape. Similar to the first two, The Fishermen's Ball, and Dead Low Tide, but different in many ways. I can only hope I'm getting better.
Hope is what is needed in people's lives today. I have hope. I say "there is much to hope for". There are great possibilities. There is infinite knowledge. There are so many good people. There is every thing you could wish for. There is hope for a positive future. And remember you can only keep one thing in your brain at a time. Store those dark thoughts and find one spark of light, one positive thought, one beam of knowledge. Hope is wedged in-between faith and charity. Now there's a thought to keep in mind.
Writing my second memoir, the book Arethusa, gives me great pleasure. It also wrenches my heart because I will have to let it go when it is finished, and then I'll have to find another way to keep the memories alive. I am reluctant to finish it, so I turn to - Watch for the Crow - fantasy in the form of historic murder in our small fishing town at the end of the cape. Similar to the first two, The Fishermen's Ball, and Dead Low Tide, but different in many ways. I can only hope I'm getting better.
Hope is what is needed in people's lives today. I have hope. I say "there is much to hope for". There are great possibilities. There is infinite knowledge. There are so many good people. There is every thing you could wish for. There is hope for a positive future. And remember you can only keep one thing in your brain at a time. Store those dark thoughts and find one spark of light, one positive thought, one beam of knowledge. Hope is wedged in-between faith and charity. Now there's a thought to keep in mind.
Saturday, August 17, 2019
Bike Paths and Changes
Eventually we all feel the changes. Our landscape, our lives, our world. This morning I took my dog DD on a walk that I had probably taken a thousand times in the past forty years. Most of them with Dave, holding his hand, and talking about our lives. I highly recommend walking with your partner. Talk about everything while there are no distractions, no cars, no children, no phones - just walk and talk. Well this morning I went back to an old dirt road that we walked together so many times, and guess what? The old dirt road is gone. It's been widened and paved, and I didn't recognize it. It reminded me that my partner is gone, our walks have ceased, and life as I knew it - changed just like that old dirt road. It's been swept clean. I'm trying to adjust to the paved path. The new and improved bike trail will accomedate numerous bikers and hikers. It's close to the National Sea Shore. I'm trying to stay positive, but sometimes changes are not for the better. I didn't meet one bike or one person while on the new and improved road. Maybe that's another plus. I am after all a solitary person. I just miss what was once so familiar. The scrub pine and oak has been pushed back, the big ruts and holes filled in, and holding hands while walking, gone in the blink of an eye.
I spend more time writing, visiting girlfriends, playing with grandkids, but the essence of that comfortable old road is missing. I get satisfaction from my memories. They sustain me and writing about Dave, like that old road is part of a memory now.
In other news: Sharks, pond scum, and plankton blooms, just enough to give one pause and reflect on the many changes in our world. I try to keep the faith in all things. As the saying goes: This too shall pass.Winter will follow autumn, death will follow life, and change is the only constant.
So the new Crowley mystery has got me excited. Title: Watch for the Crow. What do you think of this? The nickname the Crow has been given to the chief by local youth. Two teen boys find a body in the dunes and Chief Crowley must find the killer. I see the story in my head. I've got the beginning and the why, the who, the where, what and when. If I work like crazy, I think it will be ready next spring.
The trouble with writing and self-publishing is that I haven't broken even yet. The last book cost more than I've made so far. I'm about halfway. It's great for tax purposes, a business loss. I'm going to have to make some changes, find a different way to make my books a business. My problem is that I just want to write, I hate marketing it myself and of coarse it costs money, so there goes any profits. What I figure is that I'll just keep writing and somehow marketing and publicity will eventually find its way to me. Not a very good strategy, I know, but as long as I can still pay the bills, I'll just keep writing.
I had an opportunity to read from my manuscript, Arethusa. I read chapter 4, Swimming and Racing to a friendly group in Provincetown. I think the crowd was pleased. I did a book signing at the Whydah Museum last week. So I can say I did do some marketing. I don't push myself as much as I could. Being a writer is solitary, an introverts ideal job. While marketing is really the opposite, pushing yourself is so difficult for me. I guess I'm that introvert.
I spend more time writing, visiting girlfriends, playing with grandkids, but the essence of that comfortable old road is missing. I get satisfaction from my memories. They sustain me and writing about Dave, like that old road is part of a memory now.
In other news: Sharks, pond scum, and plankton blooms, just enough to give one pause and reflect on the many changes in our world. I try to keep the faith in all things. As the saying goes: This too shall pass.Winter will follow autumn, death will follow life, and change is the only constant.
So the new Crowley mystery has got me excited. Title: Watch for the Crow. What do you think of this? The nickname the Crow has been given to the chief by local youth. Two teen boys find a body in the dunes and Chief Crowley must find the killer. I see the story in my head. I've got the beginning and the why, the who, the where, what and when. If I work like crazy, I think it will be ready next spring.
The trouble with writing and self-publishing is that I haven't broken even yet. The last book cost more than I've made so far. I'm about halfway. It's great for tax purposes, a business loss. I'm going to have to make some changes, find a different way to make my books a business. My problem is that I just want to write, I hate marketing it myself and of coarse it costs money, so there goes any profits. What I figure is that I'll just keep writing and somehow marketing and publicity will eventually find its way to me. Not a very good strategy, I know, but as long as I can still pay the bills, I'll just keep writing.
I had an opportunity to read from my manuscript, Arethusa. I read chapter 4, Swimming and Racing to a friendly group in Provincetown. I think the crowd was pleased. I did a book signing at the Whydah Museum last week. So I can say I did do some marketing. I don't push myself as much as I could. Being a writer is solitary, an introverts ideal job. While marketing is really the opposite, pushing yourself is so difficult for me. I guess I'm that introvert.
Sunday, August 4, 2019
July 2019 - Those lazy days of summer are here, bare feet, no coats, and dips in the salt water. I'm a sun child, a Leo, so hot temperatures don't seem to bother me. I do stay quiet, drink lots of water, and keep the fans going. And I hope everyone is heeding the weather warnings and being safe. With the heat wave comes indoor time so I am catching up on writing skills, via on-line classes while working on two books, "Arethusa" and "Watch for the Crow" (a third in the James Crowley series) I try to work everyday at writing but also reading and learning. Not a bad way to spend my time. I get to do things with the grandkids as well. We've been to ponds, pools, ocean and bay. The young ones are always fun. Trying to keep up with them keeps me growing. They teach me about our environment, about todays music, and they show me new ways to use my phone. Thanks to my thirteen year old granddaughter I'm taking Portuguese lessons from an app called Duolingo.
I'm still amazed at how much time computers can suck out of your day. I don't mean looking up interesting facts, ordering a pair of shoes, or even viewing photos on FB or Instagram. I mean trying to figure out how the thing works, like copy and paste, or preview, or add a label or what the heck is a hashtag anyway. I spent the entire morning trying to figure out how to send ten pages from my book- out in an email. I looked it up on U-tube, then asked my own computer in the 'help' column, then found something on Google that led me to another page that gave me an answer. But when I tried, it didn't work. So back to the drawing board and guess what? I had the wrong email address, so now problem solved.
My son Bob brought me my first Fluke of the season. Wow is that fish just the best eating that's ever been. This past week has brought suppers of seafood delight. Family and friends came for a visit and we ate: clams (steamers, quahogs, little necks) We ate oysters, shrimp, cod, and Fluke. Each meal has been exceptional, a gift from the sea. Bless those fishermen, clammers, and growers. I'll be looking forward to my next seafood meal. My sister arrived for a ten day visit. We haven't been together since I drove to Florida in 2017. She hasn't been on the Cape since Dave's funeral, 2016. It's been a great visit, lots of good food, good friends, and good memories. We planned a dune ride for this evening, with beach fire and clam bake, but the fire and clambake on the beach has had to be cancelled because there is no access to the beach because of the nesting Piping Plovers. Bummer. Hopefully next year or maybe after all the birds have flown. I love the birds, love watching their skinny little legs scurry across the sand, love watching them skim the top of the water. I can wait.
So far it has been a supper summer. Lots of tourists, lots of heat and lots of sharks. I'm an avid ocean swimmer and this is the first year I'm not comfortable going to Head of the Meadow to ride the waves. I've only been in the ocean two times this year. I keep hearing the music from Jaws in my head and that doesn't make for a relaxing swim. Evolution, change, global warming, it's the way of the world. The sharks have always been there, but now I'm very aware of them. And so we change with the changes. Adjust the set of our sails, swim in a pool instead of the ocean and leave the sharks to feed on the seals. Stay safe, warm and dry dear friends. Fair Winds.
I'm still amazed at how much time computers can suck out of your day. I don't mean looking up interesting facts, ordering a pair of shoes, or even viewing photos on FB or Instagram. I mean trying to figure out how the thing works, like copy and paste, or preview, or add a label or what the heck is a hashtag anyway. I spent the entire morning trying to figure out how to send ten pages from my book- out in an email. I looked it up on U-tube, then asked my own computer in the 'help' column, then found something on Google that led me to another page that gave me an answer. But when I tried, it didn't work. So back to the drawing board and guess what? I had the wrong email address, so now problem solved.
My son Bob brought me my first Fluke of the season. Wow is that fish just the best eating that's ever been. This past week has brought suppers of seafood delight. Family and friends came for a visit and we ate: clams (steamers, quahogs, little necks) We ate oysters, shrimp, cod, and Fluke. Each meal has been exceptional, a gift from the sea. Bless those fishermen, clammers, and growers. I'll be looking forward to my next seafood meal. My sister arrived for a ten day visit. We haven't been together since I drove to Florida in 2017. She hasn't been on the Cape since Dave's funeral, 2016. It's been a great visit, lots of good food, good friends, and good memories. We planned a dune ride for this evening, with beach fire and clam bake, but the fire and clambake on the beach has had to be cancelled because there is no access to the beach because of the nesting Piping Plovers. Bummer. Hopefully next year or maybe after all the birds have flown. I love the birds, love watching their skinny little legs scurry across the sand, love watching them skim the top of the water. I can wait.
So far it has been a supper summer. Lots of tourists, lots of heat and lots of sharks. I'm an avid ocean swimmer and this is the first year I'm not comfortable going to Head of the Meadow to ride the waves. I've only been in the ocean two times this year. I keep hearing the music from Jaws in my head and that doesn't make for a relaxing swim. Evolution, change, global warming, it's the way of the world. The sharks have always been there, but now I'm very aware of them. And so we change with the changes. Adjust the set of our sails, swim in a pool instead of the ocean and leave the sharks to feed on the seals. Stay safe, warm and dry dear friends. Fair Winds.
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