Author Archives: Julie-Ann Baumer

Mining our Material

My brother, Jim Baumer, gave a talk at the Lisbon Historical Society last night.  The subject of his 40 minute “chat” was John Gould’s career as a newspaper writer and editor.  Gould, the author of more than twenty books, also … Continue reading

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Righting the Ship

Have I written a blog post about overcommitments, projects spinning like plates in the air, and borrowed time? Yes?  Then there is no reason to do that today. This is a sidewalk strip garden on Maple Street.  A woman named … Continue reading

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Situational Honesty

It’s hard not to be cynical, isn’t it?  According to an article I read this week, 30 percent of Americans are dishonest, 40 percent are situationally honest, and only about 30 percent are honest all of the time. The article … Continue reading

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High Mowing San Marzanos

August…the month of tomatoes. The process of planting the tiny seed, nurturing the plant, and then finally seeing tomatoes ripen is always miraculous to me.  It doesn’t matter how many tomatoes I grow. A beautiful Monday miracle.

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The Old Soul

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact event or moment when I realized I was an “old soul.”  It could have been all the hours spent studying my parents’ yearbooks.  Or maybe it was the summer day I picked up Beverly … Continue reading

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With Little Fanfare

I’m changing my blog schedule around.  For starters, I’m moving my Thursday “Minimalist” series to Mondays. I saw this poster at the Seawicks Candle Company shop in Boothbay Harbor.  I wanted to buy a candle, but my Yankee frugality stopped … Continue reading

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Somewhere in Friendship, Maine

I contemplated writing a post called “The Death Rattle of the Worumbo Mill” today.  I even took a hack at it last night before falling asleep; I cobbled together 180 words, more or less.  Then I settled my week’s weary … Continue reading

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Runner Beanith Zenith

Growing peas and climbing beans is a garden delight.   This wall of beauty began with 10 or 12 seeds I saved from last year’s less than stellar runner beans. I’ll have seeds to save and seeds to share; let … Continue reading

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The Monday Morning Blues

My cousin Margaret is visiting Maine from her home near Washington, D.C.  She drove up on Friday and arrived at the cottage she’s renting late that same evening.  She invited me over for breakfast on Sunday morning. She’s staying in … Continue reading

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Don’t Get Funny with Me

My father, Herman the German, is a funny guy.  He might have been the “class clown” in addition to being the “Carnival King of 1951.”  He jokes around a lot and sometimes I think he uses humor as a foil … Continue reading

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