Uncle Bob Was Right

Things in the garden ARE growing a foot a day.

Morning GloriesNice!

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

A Lovely Summer Shower

I think I’ll write another blog post about “life getting back to normal after The Moxie Festival.”  Why not?  If you read last Thursday’s post, you probably thought things were all “spic and span” here in Moxie Town and it was full steam ahead to “summer in Vacationland.”

That would be sort of true, but not quite.

Handy suggested we go to the Yarmouth Clam Festival Friday night and so after work we raced down Route 9 and got there in time for the parade, which starts at 6:00 p.m.  It was a wonderful parade; I had forgotten how much I love such small town spectacles.  I didn’t see this year’s Moxie Festival Parade because I was setting up for the Recipe Contest.  The Clam Festival parade had floats, retired baseball players in vintage cars, and marching bands.  The last vehicle in the parade was Erv Bickford’s Royal River Band Wagon.  The sign on the side of the truck said “In Memory of Erv Bickford” and I remembered all the times Mr. Bickford had driven the band wagon in The Moxie Festival Parade.  One year, I snapped this picture of him in the “parade after the parade” that goes by Uncle Bob’s house.

Uncle Bob is Unofficial

Can you beat that smile?

Mr. Bickford was born in Lisbon Falls and I didn’t know much about him other than as the driver of the band wagon and as Lisbon Falls High School’s Winter Carnival King, ’50.  Aunt Rita was Winter Carnival Queen that year too.

He died in 2012 and you can see he lived his life with Moxie; what an inspiration it is to read about his life and all the wonderful things he did for the town of Yarmouth.

On Saturday, after waking up in a panic wondering what I was supposed to do and where I was supposed to be, I started collecting my household garbage and recycling for a trip to the dump.  There were more summer things to do that evening, with a trip to an art gallery in chic Kennebunkport.

On Sunday, I took a trip around my gardens and took down the red, white, and blue buntings at the gazebo.  It was hot, sticky, and threatening.  We had a rain shower while I was in Uncle Bob’s gardens, but I managed to pick enough peas for dinner.

Then off to the first “Concert in the Park” at the MTM Center to hear Whiskey Militia.  Handy, his friend Bill, and I were shelling peas while we listened to the music until the sky got very dark.  An intense thunderstorm hit and the three of us ran for shelter, which just happened to be my parents’ car.  Herman and Helen were in their usual spot.

Lucky for us.

Rain, thunder, lightning! It was exciting and after I got home, I ran around the dark backyard in my bathing suit.  It was the perfect ending to a perfect weekend of “life getting back to normal after The Moxie Festival.”

And now it’s Monday again.  Hot and muggy, so they say.  I’d better get going.  Ah, summer in Maine.

The way life should be.

Posted in You've Got Moxie! | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on A Lovely Summer Shower

They Showed Up

About a month or so before Moxie, I took a walk up the big Maple Street hill and down to my Surprise Garden.  I usually plant annuals in the spring tulip portion of the garden.  But this year was different and I kept thinking “I’ll get up there with some marigolds one of these days.”  It’s not that I was procrastinating; I had compartmentalized the task for another day because it wasn’t urgent.

I was surprised to see a bunch of green things growing.  Excuse my French, but the friggen’ Calendula was coming up like nobody’s business.  I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing these annuals as I do.  They are prolific volunteers.

Are you familiar with volunteer flowers?

Certain annuals are what they call “self-seeding.”  Their flowers bloom, die back, and then the seeds fall to the ground.  Sometimes, they survive over winter.  In the spring, these survivors grow back.

Jesus told a parable about seeds falling on good ground, the Parable of the Sower.

In the days leading up to The Moxie Festival, when I was close to losing my BLEEP and I got in a big fight with Faye the Barber about the gardens at the Gazebo, I drove by the Surprise Garden.  Would you look at those volunteers?

They Just Showed UpThey showed up.

Like the men and women who show up to volunteer at Mark Stevens’ Moxie Car Show every year, or his Moxie 5k.  Then there’s Gina Mason’s parade crew.  And a big shout out to all my small town neighbors who put their lawn chairs on the parade route early and often; who clap and wave as the parade goes by.  Oh, and don’t forget the financial sponsors.  These are the people who actually write checks to fund the festival.  We couldn’t do it without them.

Every year, they show up and it’s good to know we can count on all of them.

Thank you.

Last night I went to Yarmouth to hear my brother give a talk about town team baseball.  A few of the former “Yarmouth Townies” are going to be in the parade, just like the year some of the Roberts 88’ers were in the Moxie Parade.  The little Cumberland County town is proud of their Clam Festival and it’s kind of a joke in Yarmouth to see who will put their chairs out on the parade route first.  As I drove down West Elm Street and past the high school last night, what I felt was town pride.  The town was buzzing with it.  Why not?  Yarmouth is celebrating their 50th Clam Festival, beginning today.

You know, living in a small town isn’t always perfect.  You can feel it in the weeks leading up to The Moxie Festival.  Stress builds and there’s a lot to do; there are never enough people to do everything that needs to be done.  There’s always a lot of gossip.  And rumors that aren’t true.  It’s easy for anyone to lose their BLEEP.

But you know what?

I was looking at some of the 2010 Census data about Yarmouth and Lisbon.  Population-wise, Lisbon is a little bigger than Yarmouth, by about 660 residents.  But did you know that the per capita income of residents of Yarmouth is about twice that of Lisbon?  I’m not saying it’s all about the money.  In fact, I’m not saying that at all.  I guess what I’m saying is that given all the circumstances, our little town does a pretty damn good job of putting on a distinctively different festival that welcomes up to 50,000 people over three days.

We’ve got Moxie.

And y’all should be proud of that the next time you drag your lawn chair down to the parade route.

I know, sometimes when we’re living in the middle of it we don’t have perspective and we can’t see what it looks like from the outside.  I’m guilty of that kind of myopia, too.  But I talk to people who come here from other places and I ask them hard questions, like “why did you drive here from Vermont (or Pennsylvania, or Aroostook County)?”  And almost everyone I talk to says “I just like the small town feel in your town.”

Well, when someone tells me that, my heart does swell up with pride and I have to wipe a little tear from the corner of my eye.  Because that’s what I love about our town too…and that’s why I moved home.

But I’ve gotten distracted from my premise, haven’t I?  I was talking about volunteers and showing up.  Yup, we can always use a few more volunteers who show up or who write checks.  Think about it for next year.  You’ve got time, 359 days, more or less.

It’s Friday and it’s a beautiful day here in Maine.  Some of you had better be on your way to Reid State Park or Popham Beach.  But before you leave, pencil these dates down on your calendar:

July 8 – 10, 2016

Those are next year’s Moxie Festival dates.  We’ve already started planning and despite what I might have said during my fight with Faye, I’m not giving up on the festival.  It was the heat of the moment, and all that.  No friggen’ way I’m giving up the Moxie Festival.

I love this town too much.  And you should too!

Posted in You've Got Moxie! | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Back to the Usual Routines

Handy stopped by for “Happy Hour” yesterday.

Only the BestOr should I call it “Handy Hour?”  Only the best for my guests.

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged | 2 Comments

Unpacking the Moxie Pocketbook

On Sunday afternoon, after The Moxie Car Show, I went to a party.  In our little town, class and family reunions often take place during The Moxie Festival.  It’s a good weekend for a homecoming, a pig roast, or even an afternoon tea.

(OK, I’ve never heard of anyone in town having an afternoon tea, but Faye the Barber did once have a “Moxie Afterglow Garden Tour…”)

This particular party was “out in the country” a bit and several of my high school friends were there, including Rick, who owns our town’s internet radio station, and his wife Gwen.  We were sitting in lawn chairs under a canopy with a larger group of friends.  Little children were running around in their bathing suits, screaming and laughing, jumping in and out of a hay bale swimming pool.

Rick and Gwen and the whole radio team put in a lot of time at the festival.  They do two live broadcasts; all day downtown on Saturday and during The Moxie Car Show on Sunday morning.  WQRY-106 spins great car culture music and us ladies working in the snack shack are tapping our toes and doing a little twist while making French fries, hamburgers, and hot dogs for the hungry car show crowds.

This year, we lost our parade announcer three days before the parade and Rick came through with a replacement for us.  I’m wiping a little tear from the corner of my eye right now just thinking about what a big help that was.  Friends help friends, but I still owe Rick big time.

Sitting in the Moxie afterglow, I looked over at Rick and Gwen and said “can you believe Moxie is over for another year?”

No one really wanted to fill that vacuum of silence for a few minutes, but then we started talking about next year’s festival; what worked and what needed improvement.

So it goes and so it begins.

Someone shouted that the burgers and hot dogs were ready and we all lazily rose from our chairs and ambled over to an outstanding summer barbecue, complete with five different church supper-style salads.  There was watermelon for dessert.

It doesn’t get much better.

On my way home around 6:00 p.m., as the day’s heat subsided, I passed Charlie Smith inspecting his newly mowed and raked hay.  From the big grin and the slow country wave he gave me, I guessed it had been a good day for hay.

I stopped at Uncle Bob’s to pick a few peas.  He was out in the garden watering and he predicted the summer heat would get things in the garden growing “a foot a day.”  Then my parents ambled over on a late afternoon walk and spent a few minutes looking at the tomatoes and the corn, both poised for some Herculean growing.  My father looked closely at the corn, which had indeed begun to increase in earnest, and he said in weather like this “you can hear the corn growing at night.”

That sounds like a wonderful sleeping potion.

When I got home, I took a slow walk around my yard and watered my own parched gardens.  My first morning glory is getting ready to unwind and the tiger lilies were blazing in the shade.

The Moxie AfterglowToday, we’ll start working on the 2016 Moxie Festival.

So it goes and so it begins.

Posted in You've Got Moxie! | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Unpacking the Moxie Pocketbook

The Moxie All Nighter

It’s been a busy, busy week here in the epicenter of the Moxie universe.

Duh.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to pick up some things at a party shop in South Portland.  OK, that’s not exactly what happened.  Sure, I “went” to South Portland, but I asked Handy if he wanted to go and he said “yes” and since he drove a taxi at one time in his life, he drove the Jeep.  It’s such a treat to be a passenger after all these years of clutching the wheel.

Thank God for Handy.

We picked up the items I’d reserved and then I suggested we go to the OTHER party shop in South Portland, on the other side of the city.  Orange Solo cups are always on sale; buy one get one free.

Handy is an excellent driver, so I never pay attention to the road from the passenger’s seat.  Never once have I said “Handy, WATCH OUT!” or “Why don’t you take this road?”  Because he always finds the way and the passenger seat is so comfortable.

Handy took a right hand turn onto Broadway and I looked out my window at Calvary Cemetery.  Out of some Moxie-addled part of my brain I remembered a woman I had worked with when I lived in Portland.  I knew her pretty well; we had some mutual friends outside of work.  She died in July, 1994 and is buried in this cemetery.

She was 38.

I told Handy about her and before I had said very much, I started crying.  I remembered going to her funeral and then to the cemetery.  It was a hot Maine July day.

Handy just listened to my patchwork of information and he kept driving.  I pulled myself together as we got to the second of South Portland’s party shops.  So Po must be the epicenter of the party shop universe.  I got the orange Solo cups.  Then the Jeep taxi wheeled out of So Po and into Portland in a big arc around the airport, down Congress Street, and sweeping into the Deering neighborhood.  A quick left onto Stevens Avenue and then a slow crawl until Handy found a parking spot in front of Pat’s Meat Market.

I hadn’t been to Pat’s since 1998 when I lived in Portland and it was nice to see that things hadn’t changed much.  It’s still a great selection of all things carnivore.  As we were walking in, a family with a young daughter was walking out.  The father noticed my Moxie Festival t-shirt and he said to his daughter “Look, she has a Moxie Festival t-shirt on!”

The word “Moxie” made her smile and chatter the way young children do.  Sentimentalist that I am, I had to wipe a last little tear from the corner of my eye.

Volunteering for the Moxie Festival can be tiring.  Going to sleep late, getting up early, juggling, and running around.

All Night MoxieAnd I’ve driven by Calvary Cemetery hundreds of times since 1994 and never started crying.  Helen would say “you’re tired.  You need a nap.”

You know how it goes.  No sleep until Moxie.

I’ve walked the Moxie parade route a few times and I’ve seen the smiles and the laughter from the people who set up their chairs at 4:00 a.m. to have a good view.  In the bigger scheme of things, if even half of the 50,000 people who come to Moxie Town smile like that little girl at Pat’s yesterday, I think it’s worth missing a few hours of sleep.  And besides, we’re all just living on borrowed time, right?  Each day is a gift!

Be The Moxie!

Posted in You've Got Moxie! | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

The Clarion Call

Before there was a hotel chain called “Clarion,” there was a medieval trumpet of the same name.  A shrill and clear tone it had, so they say, but we don’t know for sure because there was no internet to confirm it.

Nevertheless…

The clarion callThe clarion call has gone out…

Pull out all the stops.  Be The Moxie…

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged , | Comments Off on The Clarion Call

Deer Candy

On Saturday, my friend Julie (Slipper Sistah) came over and helped me wash windows.  As you may recall, I had originally started washing windows back in May and proposed to finish the job using the “one window at a time” method.  Time got away from me and here we are less than one week to Moxie and my windows aren’t spring or summer cleaned.

I know.  When a summer festival attended by tens of thousands of people is barreling down on you like a runaway train, you wash windows, right?

It was fun to have some help and we completed the job in 3 hours.  After finishing, we went out in the garden and I pointed out different plants and flowers that were coming into bloom.  I found a very large weed on the edge of the yard, one of many similar weeds.  Julie said “oh, those weeds are like candy to deer.”

Julie is more “outdoorsy” than me.  She knows how to fish and she has probably gone hunting once or twice.  I believed her and I started thinking about how these “deer candies” might keep little Bambi away from my flowers.

Julie may be right and the weeds in question are like candy; unfortunately, the sunflowers I was growing were like heroin and the deer were unrepentant junkies last night.

Deer CandyI wept for a few minutes this morning and then inspected the garden for more damage.  Yes, they nibbled the Echinacea and the Nasturtiums and the Zinnias.  Handy thinks I’m a baby about my gardens; he says I don’t enjoy them because I spend so much time battling the bugs, critters, and weeds.  He says they live rent free in my head.  While it’s certainly true I get a little wound around the wheelbarrow axle from time to time, I wonder what the gardens would look like if I didn’t take a few precautions?  Mrs. Perron built the most magnificent gardens; it’s such a wonderful gift she left and I feel some responsibility to keep them at least as lovely as they were when she lived here.  If I can enhance them, it’s all the better.

After I changed out of my garden clothes and threw on my 2015 Moxie Festival t-shirt (we’re selling women’s v-necks this year, by the way), I headed to the garden store for deer repellant and chicken wire.  When I got home, I built some Rube Goldberg-like covers for certain parts of my garden and then started spraying the repellant.  It was a mighty putrid concoction, a combination of rotten eggs, garlic, and who knows what else.

I’ve tried talking sense to the deer when I’ve seen them in the gully behind the house, but it doesn’t do any good.

The smell was absolutely raunchy and I almost lost the Pepperidge Farm Piroutte rolled wafer I had just eaten.

I’m crossing my fingers that the repellant and chicken wire keeps the deer away.  It might just make little Bambi barf, too.

Good.

 

Posted in Critters | Tagged | 1 Comment

The Garden Trellis

It’s Friday and for many, it’s the beginning of a long holiday weekend.  I was awake for quite some time last night; maybe it was the late afternoon coffee.  My hands were folded on my chest as I said The Lord’s Prayer and reflected on these particular words:

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Last week, I celebrated St. Jean Baptiste Day with some of my new Franco friends.  I didn’t blog about it; I’m not sure why.  I was very excited about the day.  In fact, I was so excited I hung three flags from my porch–the American Flag, the Canadian Flag, and Quebec’s blue and white fleur-de-lis.  I was rushing around, trying to get dressed and do ten other things.

You know how it goes.

I ran outside and took a quick picture and posted it on Facebook with a few French words.  I sped off in my car to pick up my favorite Franco, Saint Helen of Immaculata.

At some point in the afternoon, after the meal and the singing and the speeches, I took a quick technology break.  Friends had “liked” my post and one or two commented.  Oddly, one friend who almost never likes or comments on any of my posts pointed out that I had hung my American flag backwards.  Even though a very wise woman once told me not to read “tone” into e-mails (and by application, Facebook comments) I did detect a subtle “tone” to this friend’s words.  Maybe it was because this friend was a former member of the military and thought I had disrespected the flag.  Or maybe it was because…oh, I don’t know.  I’m not even going to discuss the range of possibilities I entertained.

It really hurt my feelings.  Not because the accusation was incorrect.  I had, indeed, hung the flag vertically with the blue union on the right and not the left.  In my haste, I had hung the flag incorrectly.  I was mortified, not because I am a perfectionist, but because I have studied flag etiquette very closely.  This was probably the first time I had ever, ever hung the flag incorrectly.  I have never hung the flag in bad weather and I have never left the flag outside in the dark.  I have never let my flags touch the ground.

I deleted my Facebook post in shame.

Since that day, I’ve thought a bit about how we give feedback to other people.  I once had a boss who gave me a great tip for giving feedback.  She suggested saying “hey, can I tell you something, friend to friend?”

If you’ve spent any time working in corporate environments, you know that giving feedback is often best done privately, versus the public shaming method.  If my “friend” had told me, privately, that I had hung the flag incorrectly, it wouldn’t have eased my mortification.  But at least I wouldn’t have felt publicly embarrassed for such a minor crime.  As it was, I texted Handy and asked him to go to my house and flip the flag.

And you wonder why he thinks I’m a little “high maintenance?”

This morning, as I took a walk around town, I wondered why so many people enjoy bringing others down.  It happens all the time and hey, I’ll be honest, I’ve been guilty of it myself.  That doesn’t make it good for societal thriving.

If I told my “friend” about my hurt feelings, it’s quite possible I would be told that since I “put myself out there” I was opening myself up to feedback and criticism.  That’s certainly true.

I know, I am a little more sensitive than the average woman.

As I finished up my prayers last night and went through my own personal list of daily sins, I asked God to help me be more like a trellis.

Hold People UpBeing “independent” doesn’t always mean never asking for help.  In fact, some of the most beautiful flowers in the garden sometimes need a little encouragement to stand tall and add their particular loveliness to the arrangement.

Here’s my annual list of “Independence Day” reading.

Be a trellis this weekend and hold others up.

Posted in Friday Pillow Talk | Tagged , | 2 Comments

You Had to Be There

I can’t explain why the pea trellis at Uncle Bob’s took my breath away the other evening.

Tall Snap PeasI guess you had to be there.  No app for that yet.

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged , | Comments Off on You Had to Be There