Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Mid-Winter Reading


In the last few weeks, I've been in Western Massachusetts, New York, and Blue Hill. I can authoritatively say, it's coldest here and those of us in Maine can talk about the weather lots longer than those other folks! We've had amazingly cold nights but days filled with sunshine. I finally got out on my snowshoes and will not be annoying about it as I try to get everyone else out on theirs. This lovely scene is just over a mile from the inn.

If it's that cold outside, you know it's time to be reading inside. I adored Ellen Booraem's The Unnameables.She is just such a delightful writer, as you will see in her piece about her messy desk. Kirkus Reviews says, "Booraem's debut is an ever-surprising, genre-defying page-turner." I just sent it home with Matthew, 11, Lorna, 13, and Paige, the mom, and I suspect they will all love it.

As always, Blue Hill Books will have autographed copies of it for you. While I was in there checking out the latest in the Maine section, I came across Days in the Life of a Fisherman's Wife, by Rusty Warren, and More than Petticoats: Remarkable Maine Women, by Kate Kennedy. Remarkable Women has great photographs and description of hard Maine living that leaves me very happy to be getting through the winter with all the various heat sources we have, including heated seats in our cars. Also on my docket is Notes from an Innkeeper's Journal. Has the book everyone keeps telling me to write already been done? I'll let you know.

Although the book pile is plenty deep enough to keep me busy, I do like to keep up with the Sunday papers. In the Globe recently was a column that answered an old, old question for me. "Make a Joyful Noise," written my Sam Allis, suggests "classical audience should loosen up and applaud at will." I came to classical music late in life, having grown up on an unhealthy diet of 70s and 80s rock and roll, Barry Manilow and Ricky Nelson, and, during those most formative years, mariachi music and folk songs played on the accordion. Allis suggests going with our instinct to clap at the end of a movement, rather than staidly waiting until the very end (which neophytes never recognize anyway, and have to wait until others applaud to finally, at long last, get to show their awe).

Although it sometimes feel as though we will never again be able to throw open the windows to the ocean breezes, we have to get out and enjoy the snow now. It really will melt, it always always does.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Happy New Year!


How has it been so long since I last posted?! Those pesky holidays.

I had to write tonight to tell you about my dinner. My sister lives in Baton Rouge, LA. When she was up for Thanksgiving, she brought me a packet of BBQ shrimp sauce mix from the Louisiana Fish Fry Company. It's shrimp season here in Maine so I was in luck. This year's season is a bit longer than it was last year. PERC, the Penobscot East Resource Center, is working with local fishermen to offer a community supported fishery, where folks can buy a half share or share and receive pounds of shrimp each week. After my scrumptious dinner tonight, I might just have to sign myself up.

We were full up for New Year's Eve and with good reason. Blue Hill's last night celebration is funfunfun. Free live music starts early, around seven, in almost a dozen venues around town, all within easy walking distance of the inn. I started at the Fire House to catch the Brooklin Band, a community band playing holiday favorites (I had to watch them. I had been at the doctor's earlier in the day and the technician who drew my blood said she was in the band. I love a small town!) I danced a bit to the steel drum band and then headed to the Congregational Church to hear Rob and Becky McCall. They are an amazing couple. Rob is the pastor at the church, has a show on our local radio station, WERU, and writes a column for the Weekly Packet, Awanadjo Almanack. His wife Rebecca is an amazing artist (this is one of the books she has illustrated) and clever lyricist.

While I'm reminding you how absolutely lovely Blue Hill is, let me tell you about Stephanie at the post office. I met Stephanie at a rug braiding class I took in the fall of 2007. I have yet to finish a piece the size of a chair mat. Stephanie has made two room sized rugs! Although that was the last time I spoke with her. By now... She also knits which is how I happened to be up to my elbows in a bag full of pairs of socks the other day. I came to the post office for my mail and had to go to the window to collect some glow-in-the-dark items I had ordered for New Year's Eve. Stephanie asked if I liked socks (not too many people can say no to that). She said I could pick a pair from the myriad she had in the bag. In the end I couldn't decide on just one pair so I offered her some glow trinkets and a trade was made.

A friend sent a link to this Maine humor. You know you're from Maine when... That lead me to a very silly song, the Desert of Maine (which is a real place). A friend actually took me to the desert of Maine, in Freeport, off-season, but I can say I was there.

And speaking of friends sending things, so many guests sent cards and photos. Thank you! I love getting to read the newsletters and seeing the family pictures. As you've heard me say, no doubt, my least favorite part of innkeeping is saying goodbye to you after you've spent a lovely time at the inn being interesting and delightful. Come back soon.

I hope your winter is going well. If you want some snow and some solitude, come on up!