So.  Today is Rob’s 70th birthday.  As usual, he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted for a birthday present.  So. Sally made him a cake, the boys made him birthday cards, and we made spaghetti & meatballs for dinner.  His favorite.  

This afternoon I took him on a “Magical Mystery Tour”.  We went to Verizon where I bought him an iPad mini.  He loves it.  I had first talked to the Multiple Listing Service for Maine, who assured me that he could access it from an iPad (last year you couldn’t – this is Maine afterall, and it takes awhile to catch up with the rest of the world!).

So he is very happy.  I also bought him a nifty cover for it, which has a keyboard attached.  Now he is all set.  He can sync it with my music on my iTunes account if he wants to.

Now I AM HAPPY TOO, because I saw a tiny little bluetooth boom box (maybe 2″ x 3″) which can play all my music from my iPod.  Yippee.

As I’ve mentioned before, I love music and singing along when I am alone.  MY MUSIC, not someone else’s idea of what’s great, but what I think is great.  Right now I’m listening to the Beatles “White Album”.  Man, so many good memories.  

I’ll just stay here, at my computer, all night, playing music and playing hearts or solitaire or mah jong . Nothing but challenging my brain and listening to “Blackbirds” by the Beatles, or whatever.  

Bliss!

Until next time, love, deb

I just read today that this is the year for the 17 year cicadas on the east coast.  We probably won’t see them here in Maine, but one can hope.

I remember when I was in high school (1962 was the year for them, so I was a junior) our hometown of Westfield, New Jersey was hit with them.  Millions and millions.  Not only were they really loud, but they were EVERYWHERE!  I remember scuffing through them as I walked down Dorian Road over to Summit Avenue, walking my friend Vicky Casamo home.  I haven’t thought of her in years.  Never saw her after high school graduation in ’63.  

Anyhow, back to the cicadas.  Trees were literally covered with them as they crawled up the bark.  You’d see a tree from a few feet away and do a double take because the tree was moving.  The dead skins, which they had just shed, were covering the ground like leaves in late fall.  You couldn’t step over or around them.  You had to just walk through them.  The boys would pick them up and fling them at you.  Yuck.  They flew in the air and landed on your head.  Double yuck.  When you drove down the street they would create a loud cracking sound as you ran over them.  As they sang their mating song they drowned out the airplanes which flew overhead.    At night when the other noises died down, the cicada humming seemed louder and louder.

According to the article I read, they will emerge when the ground temperature reaches precisely 64 degrees.  Not 63, not 65, but 64.  Somehow they know.  The article predicts that they will be emerging from North Carolina to Connecticut, so presumably the southerners will see them first.

I have a friend who is hiking a portion of the Appalachian Trail right now, from Virginia to around Gettysburg, PA.  I wonder if the cicadas will be up in the mountains or if is cooler there, and the valleys will see more of them.  

I love this kind of natural happening.  Think about it:  it’s a flashmob of cicadas!  I will be following the news for the next few weeks to read all about it.

Something to look forward to!

Until next time, love deb

Today we slept late, then watched t.v. for an hour or so, a travelogue about Spain.  Very interesting.

Lunch time our other two kids came over.  I had a ham and stuff, so we sat around the kitchen table for a couple of hours eating and chatting.  The  middle daughter is buying a house with her partner, so we talked a lot about that.  The son has found a new job, which will start in a week or so, providing Mr. Deb and I with a measure of peace and thankfulness, since this means he won’t have to deploy overseas with the Army.

Hallelulah!

Cooking pork roast with saurkraut, potatoes and fresh green beans for an old fashioned Easter Dinner.

A peaceful day.  Happy Easter and to neicy, Happy Keaster!

love, deb

I have a friend whom I rarely see.  When I first met her 13 years ago, we were like soul mates.  We laughed all the time and laughed at things that no one else thought was funny.  We could look at each other and think the same things, chuckling to ourselves.  We worked at the same attorney’s office.  You’d think that was a somber place, but we got a kick out of it.   She is a real, true Maine-ah.  She knew stories about most people that came into the office.  She knew stories about many of the local politicians, secret stories.  Even about our boss, now THAT’S a doozie, but I don’t feel right about putting it in writing.  It’s that good!

Last week we were supposed to have lunch for the first time in months, but I was sick one day, she the next, and on and on, so now we are aiming for next week..  I miss her.  I need more of that kind of inane fun.

One time we decided that I was going to smoke pot with her, for the first time in many, many years.  She got some “really good shit”.  She picked me up at my house and we went out to Arne’s house, out by Crystal Lake.  He was working and she and I sat in the sun on the deck smoking and eating a disgusting vegetable platter with non-fat dip because we were on diets.  I expected to feel silly, like I had back in the 60s and early 70s (BK-before kids).  I didn’t feel much so how good could “that really good shit” have been????  But later, I was throwing up broccoli.  Gross.  You can’t take me anywhere.

I used to write stories about “Meg and Jen”, loosely relating our adventures and greatly embellishing them.  I think I’ll start them again.  Last we saw the girls they were hiding a giant lobster in a saltwater swimming pool, out in the Harpswells…  I wonder what they did with that lobster?    And what happened to Divin’ Dave, the guy they knew at the local bar, Jameson’s Tavern (which in reality actually closed down a month ago – DRAT!) where the girls used to go for a drink after work sometimes.  What happened to the scumbag Mike, who propositioned both Neicy and I at the Muddy Rudder when his girlfriend went to the ladie’s room?    Jen and Meg and Neicy and I had lives in my stories – our lives intertwined and were called fiction, but some of the events actually took place.

One time she and I were sitting on a beach down in Scarborough.  She had a  blow up flamingo tied to her chair.  I remember we had ‘boat drinks’ along and took naps that day, in the sand.  Later we watched the sturgeon swimming up the inlet, leaping into the air.  There were so many of them.  What a sight.

We need more of that!  Winter’s almost over – time for fun.

until next time, love, deb

P.S.  The picture at the top of my blog is out at Pemaquid, the view looking down the coast from where I always sit, behind the little shed that housed the oil for the light at the top of the lighthouse.  Right at the edge of the sea.  I’ll take more pictures next time I go out there.  In the summer I go at least once a week.  Meet another friend in Damariscotta, leave one car there, drive to Reilly’s Grocery and pick up lunch, then out Pemaquid Point for the afternoon.  That’s another story for another day.  Remind me to talk about last year and all the beach chairs!

So what’s appalling to me is that my kids haven’t introduced THEIR kids to church much.  They have no idea of the meaning of Good Friday.  My kids were thinking they’d “do” Easter tomorrow, on Saturday, because the son-in-law works nights and wants to see the grandkids finding the Easter Eggs, so Saturday is logical for him, since it’s his day off.  WHAT????  ”Do” Easter on a Saturday?  What has this world come to??

Oh well, it has very little to do with me, so I shouldn’t concern myself.  But I hate to see traditions go by the wayside.

The snow is going, going, going…… Now we have ice in our backyard, and lots of standing water and mud.  We really need to get some stones and sand into our driveway, to keep the mud at bay.  As soon as it dries up we will get the people to come and drop a truck load of stone and then we will all rake it up and down the drive, and try to fill in the pot holes.  Someday it would be nice to pave it, but not this year.  The snow has melted enough that I can now see the fire pit.  I’d like to enlarge it this year.  We need to have more campfires…the boys love them, and so do the dogs.  So do I, for that matter, except the kids get upset when I start singing songs.  They have no concept of singing songs around the campfire.  Duh!

I am loving my new iPhone.  It is just right.  The old Samsung was too much work and too iffy.  This one is fairly reliable and I can easily access the things I want.  Yay!

Planning for spring.  Some friends are travelling… one is hiking the Appalachian Trail.  Don’t know where he’s starting from, but know this isn’t the first time, so he is probably starting in Virginia or somewhere in the middle range.  My cousin has been up and down the length of the trail and is starting again this year, this time from the north, here in Maine.  Maybe I’ll see him this time.  Last year he was running for Senator from Vermont, this year hiking. He lives a good life!

I wish I were free and could do that kind of thing, although I am sadly WAY out of shape and think it would take me at least a year to get in shape for it.  I think everything hinges on really GOOD walking shoes, which I have not found yet.  And carrying a 30 lb. pack?  No, not for me.  I guess I’ll stick to walking around the neighborhood and stopping to talk to the neighbors, all of whom are a couple of decades younger than me.  

Saw a really good movie the other day…”Quartet” with Maggie Smith, Billie Connolly, Tom Courtenay.  I loved it.  England and Maggie Smith.  What could be better?

That’s all for now.

love, deb 

Years ago, in 1975, I was a Deacon in our church and participated in the Maundy Thursday ceremony .  Up on the altar was a long table.  On each side of the table were six chairs and another chair at the end.  We represented Jesus (at the end) and the 12 disciples.  I was Judas, one of the disciples.  Each of us had to stand up, one at a time, read a portion of the Bible (from the New Testament), extinguish the tall candle that was in front of each of us on the table, then remain standing for two more readings, after which we sang a song.

Unfortunately, I was pregnant at the time with our second child.  I was prone to fainting.  As I stood and read my passage from the Bible, I felt faint and began to sway.  I swayed towards the candle in front of me, catching my hair on fire.  I didn’t realize it until I felt the men on either side of me patting me on the shoulders.  They were wiping away the singed hair as it fell onto my dress on my shoulders.  Jeesh!  You can’t take me anywhere!

That was funny.  At least I thought so.

love, deb

Early this morning, my best friend from high school, Ginny, passed away.   I heard she was ill two weeks ago, when she had 3 months to live.  Last week I tried to call her several times, but no answer.  This morning I heard from another friend that Ginny had taken a sharp turn for the worse last week and passed at 3:30 a.m. today.  Rest in Peace, Ginny. 

Yesterday I was going through old pictures and saw a few of my brother, Doug, who passed away from AIDS in 1987.  Suddenly, after all those years, I was missing him terribly.  Of the four siblings, Dougie and I were the most alike and we were the middle kids.  We had a bond.  We thought alike and laughed at the same things.  When he was in his twenties and going to some kind of dress up party in NYC, I gave him my prom dresses to wear.  Don’t know if it was for laughs or what, but it made Dougie and I giggle.  My oldest brother was very staid and wouldn’t have laughed.  My youngest, very somber, probably wouldn’t have thought it was funny either.  But Dougie and had a good chuckle over it.

One day in ’87, when my family and I lived in southern Virginia, I called Dougie up to chat.  He was still in NYC, but hadn’t been well and had been sad for awhile since his partner Michael had passed away the previous year.  Anyhow, I used to call him and check in fairly often.  this particular day, Dougie didn’t sound right.  We talked for a few minutes.  When I was hanging up I said “I love you Dougie” and he said “yeah, I love you too, deb”.  Those were our last words. I called my youngest brother who lived at the time in New Haven, and asked him to call Doug’s friends from Gay Men’s Health Crisis to check on Doug.  Youngest brother instead drove to the city to check on him.  He found Dougie unconscious in his apt. and had him taken to St. Vincent’s Hospital where he died several days later.  That was around July 5th, 1987.  I forget the exact date.  He was only 40 years old.  The other day I saw a picture of Dougie’s patch in the AIDS quilt.  I don’t even know who made it and added it to the quilt, but I am glad he is a part of that huge quilt.  Those were the early years of AIDS.  He wasn’t even diagnosed with AIDS back then, well he was by his doctor, but the city government wouldn’t recognize his illness as AIDS because he didn’t meet all the criteria of the official diagnosis.  That way the city didn’t pay him disability or give him health coverage.  I don’t remember the particulars now, but at that time, Doug and other gays who lived in the Village had banded together with friends, and eventually an organization was born called Gay Mens Health Crisis.  They and other volunteers helped each other with health issues, legal issues, rent, etc.  Doug couldn’t move back home with my parents because NJ had no such assistance, and Doug needed to be near his doctor from St. Vincent’s.  Also, my father didn’t speak to him (because he was an a-hole! my father, not Doug).  So, although he was ill and not with his family, he had his own family from the Gay Mens Health Crisis who brought him food and checked on him several times a day.  They paid his rent in the last few months, procured his meds, took him to the hospital or dr. when he needed it, and basically were there for him.  God Bless them all.

So, seeing one picture of him from camp back in the ’50s, brought all of this crashing back.  He was a good guy.  He had a hard life in many ways.  But there was good and he enjoyed it.  Rest in Peace, Dougie!

Until next time,

love, deb

No, not the movie… the best years of MY life were during my camp years, from 1953 to 1961.  I’d be sent to camp near Cooperstown, NY every summer for 8 weeks.  I loved it.  Here’s a picture of me dancing with my very first ever boyfriend, Dick W.  We were the ones on the left of the picture, me in bermuda shorts.  Boy.  That was fun.  

I used to be a member of AARP but they ticked me off a long time ago, years and years, so I quit.  For no reason in particular, I rejoined recently and they have finally done something to please me. They have an AARP internet radio program that plays my music.  I’ve been listening to Bob Dylan “Like a Rolling Stone” and others of that era.  Reminds me of a night in NC where someone put the album on and it played all night long, repeating itself over and over.  Between that and the snoring in the same room, I think I was awake half the night.  Everyone else was drunk and passed out, but I didn’t drink much.  In spite of the lack of sleep, It was a good weekend, though.  Somewhere I have pictures of the Phi Kappa Omega formal dance we attended.

Music is so evocative.  I loved all the folk singing groups from the 50s and 60s.  PPM were one of the first groups I tuned in to.  Then the Lettermen, Kingston Trio, and many, many more.  I used to own all those albums and they were MY time and MY music.  Sometime in probably the 70s or 80s we switched over to tapes, then cds.  Suddenly all my music is gone – all my albums.  It happened when they started with those boom boxes that played tapes anywhere you carried them.  We never replaced our record player, then stereo player when they busted.  I remember a garage sale where I was selling my albums for a quarter because we had no way to listen to them anymore.  God.  All my music.  Gone.  I miss it now, and wish I still had it.  Especially those “Oldies but Goodies” albums from the 50′s.  The ones we danced to in darkened basements while the parents were upstairs drinking and socializing.  Those were the good old days!  Here’s a picture of me as a teenager.  

Funny to think that now the American Association of Retired People is playing my music.  How cool is that?  Funny, anyway.

Awhile ago I knew how to post to this blog and add a picture to it, but I’ve forgotten how and for the life of me can’t figure it out.  Let’s see what happens if I put the picture in, then add a new post after it.  God.  I hate not knowing how to do things!

Anyhow.  This is a special cactus, given to me 13 years ago as a tiny slip in water by my good friend Sarah, now deceased.  The story behind the cactus is as follows:  After Sarah got divorced from her first husband, she took the kids and moved to an apartment in Lewiston (Maine).  Her landlady was a Jewish woman who had escaped from Europe during WWII.  As the refugee, then a young child, left her home her mother gave her a slip of her Christmas Cactus to carry something of home with her throughout her life journey.     She never saw her mother again, lost to the Holocaust.  Many years later, in Lewiston, her plant was thriving.  So she gave a slip to Sarah, who 35 years later gave ME a slip.  The survivor’s story follows each slip that is given away, so we will always remember the people who lost their lives.  

My friend, Sarah, died a few years ago.  I miss her.  All the years I have had my ‘slip’, my Christmas Cactus, it has grown, but did not flower for the first ten years I had it.  The first Christmas after Sarah passed away the plant got one or two tiny flowers.  Progressively, each Christmas it has bloomed more and more.  Suddenly, this year, my plant has bloomed beautifully for Easter (as it did this past Christmas).   Yes, I remember my friend Sarah, and also that woman in Lewiston, and her mother in Bavaria.  I feel a connection to them all.  I wonder how many other plants have come from that original slip?