Author: JWF

Howling Hermine: Day 3

JWF 5 Comments

This is the first time in more than 10 years that a hurricane has made landfall in Florida. We are now into Day 3 of Hermine and we are fortunate that we are nowhere near the worst of this storm.  In fact, we’ve been on the eastern edge and have only been deluged with rain and occasional periods of strong winds.  But nothing of true hurricane strength.  That said, I’d gladly be elsewhere if we were going to be in the area of a direct hit.

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Thursday, Sept. 1

Rain total for our county for all of August was 13.30 inches; Hermine alone dumped 7.76 inches as of yesterday and it’s still raining this morning.  And the wind, which was supposed to die down overnight, picked up again this morning after 6:30 am.  It was preceded by a wicked lightning and thunderstorm that went on for about  a half hour.  No time to be outside.

I suggested the Chief Penguin wait to go out for the newspapers.  Initially, they weren’t there, but after the let-up he ventured out and despite having been blown around a bit, they had arrived.  I guess the newspaper delivery guys subscribe to the mailman’s creed—“neither rain, nor snow… appointed rounds.”  Thank goodness for plastic bags too—not green, but the papers were only slightly damp!

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Friday morning, Sept. 2
Friday morning, Sept. 2

Yesterday I watched as high tide washed up mounds of dirt and debris through the mangroves that protect us from the waters of the bay.  Like ring around the collar, the water is gone today, but the line of debris punctuated with plastic cups and other non-natural detritus remains.  Mid-morning, I noted the resident raccoon scampering about.  It usually isn’t out and about until late afternoon or dusk.

Later, I was  fascinated by a lone egret (where were his compatriots?) who strode tentatively along the mound trying to decide what to do and hesitating when it approached puddled water and not debris.  Ultimately, it scooched under the vines and mangroves.

Then, a wood stork happened along.  Much more confident than the egret, it picked and poked in the low water assumedly grubbing for food.  We don’t see these storks as often and they are usually alone.  Wild weather brings strange bird and animal behavior.

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Lastly, here is a sample of the sound of Hermine out our front window this morning.  Not exactly howling, but you get the idea.

 

All photos and media by JWFarrington (some rights reserved)

Summer Reading #3: Mainly Mysteries

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Here are three titles I read recently:  mysteries by Elizabeth George and Victoria Thompson and a biographical novel by Colum McCann.  Two are great fun; the third requires perseverance.

Believing the Lie by Elizabeth George

This is an immensely satisfying mystery, although it’s less of a mystery and more of a study of human relationships.  Somehow, I missed this Inspector Lynley novel when it was published in 2012 so when I spied it at the library book sale here, I snatched it up.

Thomas Lynley is tasked by Bernard Fairclough to investigate the death of his nephew, Ian Cresswell, in the Lake District, even though it has been ruled an accidental drowning by the authorities.  Lynley enlists the assistance of his friends and colleagues, Simon St. James and his wife Deborah, a freelance photographer.  Fairclough’s son Nicholas is a former drug addict working in his father’s business and trying to redeem his reputation. Nicholas’s twin sisters have their own issues; Mignon is single and skillfully and without compunction manipulates those around her, while Manette still shares living quarters with the husband she’s not sure she should have divorced.  Ian, the deceased, was divorced from his wife and his children, Tim, 14, and ten-year old Grace, have been tossed about some.

Secrets and lies and excess baggage abound, but what made this book so absorbing and successful for me (all 600+ pages—Ms. George’s novels are never short!) were the realistic conversations and disagreements between Simon and Deborah St. James over their desire for a child, Lynley’s reflections on his relationship with superintendent Isabelle, the delicate dance between Manette and her ex-husband Fred, and the depiction of Tim’s angst and sullenness.

Ms. George “gets” people and having read nearly all of her previous Lynley novels, I find her main characters are like old friends and encountering them again is a pleasure.

Murder in Chelsea by Victoria Thompson

Thompson’s Gaslight Mystery series is set in New York City in the early 19th century and features midwife and widow Sarah Brandt who works in the poorer neighborhoods and regularly assists detective sergeant Frank Molloy in solving murders.  There are some stock characters like superstitious and nosy, but well meaning, Mrs. Ellsworth who lives next door, and Sarah’s wealthy parents, the Deckers, who don’t totally approve of her way of life and her relationship with Molloy, but who occasionally get called upon to open doors to the social elite.

Murder in Chelsea focuses on Sarah’s adopted daughter and the appearance of her real mother and is multi-layered and full of twists and turns.  It also advances the relationship between Sarah and Frank in a surprising way.  Not as complex or as psychological as Elizabeth George or Julia Spencer-Fleming’s work, but enjoyable.

Dancer by Colum McCann

This is an earlier novel by McCann, author of Let the Great World Spin and Transatlantic, and is his imagining of Rudolf Nureyev’s life and career.  As is the case with McCann’s other novels, the writing is exquisite and he excels at capturing the tactile—the physical details of surroundings as well as the embraces and expressions of bodies in motion or at rest.  Told mostly through the perspective of Nureyev’s teachers, colleagues, and lovers, it has a floating, almost amorphous quality to it (reflective of dance itself?).  I admit to simultaneously enjoying the language while finding it very slow going at points. It was not always clear whose point of view I was being given and this was frustrating.

Nureyev had a rough childhood in Russia, defected to the West as a young dancer, and lived his life with arrogance, hubris, and an often dismissive attitude toward friends.  He soared to stardom with Margot Fonteyn, hobnobbed with the likes of Andy Warhol, sought out the gay bar scene and had a personal life most would deem hollow.

 

 

Maine Moments

JWF 3 Comments

As we wind down and start to pack up during our last week in Maine, I thought I’d put together a few images from this marvelous coast.  It’s simply beautiful and never fails to delight.  Books and latest reading next time.  Enjoy!

Sunrise
August sunrise
Peaceful cove
Peaceful cove
At the town landing
At the town landing
Ready to go!
Ready to go!
View of Cuckold Light
View of Cuckold Light

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Summer's gold
Summer’s gold

 

 

 

 

Metal sculpture
Metal sculpture
Evening rainbox
Evening rainbow
Moon rise
Moon rise

 

All photos by JWFarrington (some rights reserved)

Boothbay Bits

JWF 5 Comments

GYNECOLOGY A LA “MAD MEN”

We happened upon a PBS Mystery series last week called “Breathless.”  A three-parter set in England in the 60’s, it features a set of louche and callous medicos who practice obstetrics and perform back alley abortions.  The women are all either beautiful or flighty (or treated as such) and the men full of testosterone-fueled superiority.  The lead, Dr. Powell, does have a mysterious past, but it takes some time before that becomes apparent.  Overall, “Breathless” is a wonderfully realized period piece that will make you scowl and wince while simultaneously luring you in.

PORTER PRESERVE

The Boothbay Region Land Trust supports a network of preserves in the area open to the public with trails and paths that range in difficulty from easy and moderate to challenging.   The longest ones are 2.75 and 3.7 miles.

Last week, with my sister and brother-in-law, we did one of the trails at Porter Preserve on Barter’s Island which has a number of marked vistas that take you onto the rocks or at least overlooking them and the water. This trail was marked “easy” and last year we did one version of it with our then 3-year old granddaughter who navigated much of it on foot before resorting to her father’s shoulders.

This time we took more offshoots to explore more views and spent about an hour on the white trail with some blue diversions. I think the trail markings have been enhanced since our last visit and perhaps the trail lengthened.  Trail maps are available in the small parking area and are a handy reference. Basically, the main trail is a big loop around the acreage.

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NEW HOUSE

We have re-located to a new house for the second half of our Maine time. It has a totally different vibe and I feel as if I’ve gone from suburbia to the wilds. The first house was a comfortable modular one with lots of lawn and a sizable flower garden extending to a cove at the front edge of the property and at the back, beyond the garden, the open ocean.  This new house is part of a cluster of houses on the east side of the island and is situated right on the rocks. It was built in the 70’s and is more old Maine than the previous one, with even more spectacular ocean views.    A lovely stretch of rocks, almost flat in places, remains exposed even at high tide and is perfect for the nimble explorer. All day and even at night, one hears the lapping of the waves and can watch an approaching storm close up.  There are two lovely screened porches, one for dining. off the living room, and one above on the corner off the bedrooms, the ideal place to laze on a chaise and read.

GRANDDAUGHTERS

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This week our house was made lively with a visit from our son and daughter-in-law and their two daughters, now ages 4 and 4 months. E is a busy little girl, full of ideas, and always ready to move on to the next activity.  She was a great assistant chef for blueberry pancakes, adding the liquid to the batter, stirring it, dropping the batter in the pan and then topping each pancake with additional berries.

Together we colored in her coloring book, read several new books (multiple times for each), played with her ballerina doll, navigated two games of Old Maid, and watched her try out her pink shark bubble machine which produced a stream of tiny bubbles to a Chinese tune.   (This was her grandparents succumbing to a very nice and, obviously persuasive, street vendor in front of the Whitney Museum in May). In addition we re-visited the botanic garden, one of her favorite places from last year. This year she watched two puppet shows (one for older campers about pollination) and presented a brief show of her own.

Baby F  is full of smiles and very squirmy as she seems to want to take off on her own.  On the floor, she rolled over for only the second and third time, but couldn’t quite figure out how to get her other arm unstuck from underneath. She watches everything closely and finds her big sister a source of delight and laughter.

Photos by JWFarrington (some rights reserved)