Parlez Moi Blog

Bonfire on Lanesville Web Cam

2009-07-04T20:39:00.000-05:00

Last year's bonfire:

If you can't be in Lanesville for the 4th of July Parade and Bonfire here's the next best thing: Lanesville Web Cam

Photos by Jim Barber of JimBMedia.com

What's Goin' On!

2009-07-04T01:20:00.000-05:00

PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT ANY EVENT
PLEASE CONTACT THE EVENT NOT SEARTS. THANK YOU.
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Civil War: Life and Medicine

Dan Tremblay presents a film, "Civil War: Life and Medicine" , a fascinating look at life during
the Civil War on Thursday July 9th at 7 PM in the Friend Room at the Sawyer Free Library.
All are welcome. For more information call 978-777-2711.
This program is free of charge and open to the public.

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The Staff of the Kensington Stobart Gallery invites you to attend the
Opening Reception and Exhibit Honoring
Gloucester Artist Phil Cusumano

Thursday, July 9th 2009

The Exhibit ongoing through August 6th 2009

Phil Cusumano is a marine artist and former commercial fisherman, His paintings depict their fishing boats and activities from the early 1950s to present day. Capt. Phil Cusumanoa native of Gloucester, Massachusetts,

has lived the life of his subject matter, a commercial fisherman. At an early age,
he fished out of Gloucester on his fathers' commercial draggers and eventually
worked his way up to captain. He attended Vesper George School of art in
Boston, MA and has also studied with well know Rockport, Ma artist John Terelek.
Phil documents the fishing industry from the time after the tall ships to
present day. Having lived the life of his paintings and etchings, Capt. Phil invites the
viewer on board in his paintings and etchings to witness the many
intricacies of the fishermen's daily lives.
Many of Filippo's family, relatives, and friends (and Fillipo, to some extent)
are still involved in the fishing industry. His reach and personal knowledge are
embodied in the specific nature of his works.
A number of his painting and etchings have many awards and acclaims
and some are part of the permanent collections of the Peabody-Essex Maritime
Museum in Salem, Massachusetts. The Peabody-Essex Maritime Museum's
maritime art collections are among the worlds largest.

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This Sunday, July 5, come to the SUNNY side of the street,
where there are BLUE SKIES and no STORMY WEATHER......really!

Sunday Jazz Brunch at Elliotts at Blackburn, with yours truly on guitar/vocals
and John Hyde on piano (with his newly married chops - hmmm).
12-3 pm, 2 Main St. Gloucester. Please join us!

xxoo

Karen
www.karenristubenmusic.com
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GSC PlayPasses can be purchased in packets of four or five admissions and can be
used any way you like. For example: come yourself to our remaining four
productions, or buy two five admission passes and bring nine friends to one production!

Save 25% over regular ticket prices. Unlike other discounts which are good for
only particular performances, the PlayPass is good for all performances!

Receive the "Circle of Friends Card" which entitles you to two for one tickets
to over 50 Boston Theaters.

Visit www.gloucesterstage.com or call the Box Office at 978-283-4433.

Gloucester Stage Company | 267 East Main Street | Gloucester | Massachusetts | 01930 | 978.281.4433
E-Mail: boxoffice@gloucesterstage.com

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Local Colors Exhibit -
Cape Ann Sea Glass - "The Tide is Out and Art is In'

Two artists, Debara Hafemann and Ann Schlecht team up to bring together a show at Local Colors called "Cape Ann Sea Glass". The show will be a combination of Sea Glass Jewelry, photos, greeting cards and paintings embellished with Sea glass and other beach finds. Ann Schlecht will also have a collection of jewelry made from Beach Stones on display.

There is no shortage of enthusiasm for beachcombing here on the North Shore. What a pleasure it is to walk the shore at low tide - hunting, flipping, bending, gleaning. Debara and Ann take their love for walking the shoreline and combine it with their love of "making" to create a show that will delight all fellow beachcombing enthusiasts. As you read this you are likely thinking of the stash of beach glass and stones you have - Please come and see our collections. Cape Ann Sea Glass will run from July 11th -August 1st at Local Colors, 121 Main St. in Gloucester. For more information call -978-283-3996.

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Three Sheets to the Wind
The Schooner Adventure organization spawned Three Sheets to the Wind, a group of local musicians and Adventure crew members who are preserving the history of maritime work songs (chanteys) and forebitter songs.

Corwin Ericson
Corwin Ericson lives in western Massachusetts where he works as a writer, editor, and college instructor. He will read from his novel-in-progress, Swell, from which an excerpt was recently published in X: The Erotic Anthology, edited by Susie Bright (Chronicle, 2008).

Rick Drost
Rick Drost began singing with a Kingston Trio-style group in high school, continued in a small folk group in college, then a glee club and an opera chorus. He started writing and singing around coffeehouses in DC and New England in the '70s, finally settling in Cambridge MA where he started playing with the folk-rock group Parts and Labor. He performs at least once a week, wherever he goes, and has enjoyed stints with great instructors and students at Song School in Colorado, SAMW and other workshops.

Tom Hauck
Local author Thomas A. Hauck's novel, Pistonhead, tells the story of Charlie Sinclair, guitarist in a rock band. His job is being outsourced. His best friend is a drug addict. His apartment is full of mice. The girl he loves is unattainable and his old girlfriend wants to dig her claws into him again. Pistonhead is the story of one week in Charlie Sinclair's life -- a week that changed him forever.

Ev Harlow & Friends
Ev Harlow is known for his wacky songs and goofball on-stage banter. His style has a country/folk flavor that is not often heard in these parts. He will have some very talented friends sitting in and having way too much fun!

Nights on the Neck is located on Rocky Neck Avenue, East Gloucester. For specific performance times and locations, please see signage in the Rocky Neck Avenue parking lot on the evening of the event.

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Ruth Mordecai: Paintings and Works on Paper

Between Painting and Sculpture (Painted Prayers)
oil and collage, 54" x 38"
Ruth Mordecai
Paintings and Works on Paper
Rocky Neck Art Colony Residency Studio
51 A Rocky Neck Avenue
Gloucester, MA 01930
Opening Reception - July 2nd, 2009
5:00pm to 9pm
Continuing:
July 3rd - July 5th
12:00 pm to 9:00pm
July 6th and 7th
by Appointment 617-462-9171 / 978-283-9171
www.RuthMordecai.com

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seARTS is a coalition of artists, art lovers, cultural institutions, businesses, and municipal organizations, all working together to improve the economic base for the arts and the larger Cape Ann community. seARTS is funded through grants from the Mass Cultural Council, Essex County Community Foundation, Bruce J. Anderson Foundation, its membership, and sponsors.

Contact Information

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phone: 978 281-1222

Visit our web site: seARTS.org

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Can you bake a cherry pie?

2009-07-03T15:07:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, between downpours, I stopped at Farmer John's on Railroad Ave and bought a couple bags of Bing Cherries. These are the most enormous and delicious cherries I've had in ages. I had gotten a few bags of their Rainier Cherries last week and thought they were the best ever but these big, fat, juicy red ones are even better. So I started thinking about cherry pie and cherry crisp. If you have never made a cherry pie or a cherry crisp with real cherries you are in for a treat. The difference between canned cherries and real cherries is incredible.

Cherry Crisp:
To make a cherry crisp you will need about 2 to 2-1/2 lbs. of fresh cherries. Wash them, remove stems, and remove the pits with a pitter. Cut half of the cherries in half and leave the others whole. Grate the rind of one lemon over them and sprinkle with a cup of sugar and let them sit for an hour.

Meanwhile crumble together 1-1/2 cups raw oats, 1/2 cup brown sugar, and 1 stick of butter. If you like you can add 1/2 cup of pecan bits. This should be a loose, sticky but crumbly mixture.

Now add 1/4 cup cornstarch to the cherries and mix well. Place in an oven-proof casserole dish. Crumble the oat mixture on top and pat lightly. It should be loose but firm. Place in a 350 degree oven for 20-25 minutes until the top is golden brown and the cherries are bubbling up through the crust. Remove, let cool and serve with ice cream or whipped cream.

Yum, yum, yum!

Shut Up, Mark Sanford

2009-07-03T12:27:00.001-05:00

I've been avoiding talking about politics lately but this is just too good not to pass on....

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

Shut Up, Mark Sanford

thedailyshow.com

Daily Show
Full Episodes

Political Humor

Jason Jones in Iran

Loss & Anger: “Emotionally Befuddled”

2009-07-02T09:39:00.002-05:00

I got an email last night from a woman who recently lost someone she dearly loved. There were, apparently, a lot of problems in their relationship and, now that he is gone, they'll never get to work them out. He was killed by a drunk driver just before Christmas and she is still in shock. She told me that she has been reading the blog entries I've made on loss and that she also read “Sailor's Valentine”, the story I wrote last summer when I was dealing with my own frustration, anger, grief, depression....

One of the things she said in her letter is, “I feel like I am emotionally befuddled. Everyone keeps telling me how I should be feeling, that I shouldn't be taking this so hard, but I feel so bereft.” This is a thing I know well. Bereft is the perfect word.

In the last few years I've lost my brother, my father, and three men I loved dearly, two of whom had been lovers. That's in addition to a couple of other friends. That's a lot of loss in a short period of time and the fact that they were all big, strong men who had special places in my heart makes it all the more difficult because there is an accompanying sense of stupification. How can this happen? How can so many men who were so much a part of my identity be gone in a few short years? I'll tell you, it has genuinely impacted my ability to relate to men. I know this is temporary but right now I live with an unreasonable fear that if I let a man get close something terrible will happen to him.

I've written before about my amazement at the denial around grief that some people have demonstrated --- everything from evaluating my relationship, thus attempting to trivialize my feelings, to assigning a timeline to the grieving. This is something I have learned not to take personally. It is a symptom of our feel-good culture that seems to be getting worse as we become more alienated and more accustomed to the concept of using “happy pills” to dispel the normal emotional processes that are hardwired into our physiology.

Not long ago I read a study about the link between traumatic loss and cancer. Naturally there are many reasons that people develop cancer but one of the things the study said was that the incidence of certain types of cancer were much higher a few years after traumatic loss among people who did not go through the normal (Kubler-Ross) stages of grief. The primary one of these being anger.

We're a society that has a horror of anger and yet we are one of the angriest cultures on earth (evidenced by the high rate of violence in our society). We constantly both internalize and misdirect anger. We avoid the anger of life's normal losses and then take it out on other people in road rage, and cyber-bullying and stalking and abuse. And we manifest it in our bodies which creates more anger which we, again take out on others. We do all of this to avoid the normal, natural, understandable pain that comes from disappointment, loss, hurt.

There is a thing I have learned over the last several years and if my losses serve any good purpose I hope it is this: Nobody can tell you how you should feel. Nobody has that right. They will try --- believe me they will try but, as with so much of life, their behavior toward you says far more about themselves than about anything else.

This is the truth: Whenever you let yourself love, you run the risk of experiencing pain. That is normal and part of the deal. And it is a beautiful part of the deal in some ways. The poet W.S. Merwin says, "There are no words to adequately convey grief just as there are no words to adequately convey love.". But this is what I've come to believe, the blessing on the other side of great grief, is that you once felt great love. This is something the unloving heart will never understand. But it is a blessing however hard learned. It's something I hope my correspondent will some day experience. And something I remind myself of when the grief surges. Great grief says this, “you loved greatly.”

Thanks for reading.

Ristras & the Texas Farmer's Market

2009-07-01T11:40:00.002-05:00

The Farmer's Market here in Gloucester is opening for the season on Harbor Loop this Thursday. A good sign that --- well, we can hope we will get a summer eventually. There is no sign of it at present. But it reminded me of the adventure in Farmer's Marketing I had while living in Texas --- I had actually just moved to Houston at the time and was working with a woman who go me involved in it. What an adventure that was!

Bonnie had been a member of a Farmer's Market Co-op that had been active for years. The way it worked was this: ten families each put in $20 every other week. Volunteers took turns taking the $200 to a huge (I mean ENORMOUS) farmer's market that was held on Airline Drive in Houston every Saturday morning. You purchased $200 worth of produce brought it back to the pickup point which was a church parking lot in Katy, divided it into 10 piles and each member of the co-op came with their own basket, picked up the goodies, and paid their $20 toward the next biweekly haul.

Bonnie and I split our share because neither of us could use that amount of produce in 2 weeks. It was a great way to get a tremendous amount of very fresh, high quality produce at an average of $5 a week. But the best part, in my opinion, was when we got to do the shopping! I loved that Farmer's Market!

We had certain staples we always bought: a case of lettuce, 50 lbs. of potatoes, onions, tomatoes, and at least three fruits but what a selection we had to choose from. We soon discovered which vendors would give us the best prices, which had the best quality, which to avoid. Sometimes when produce was cheap and everyone was eager to sell we'd have enough leftover to indulge in extra treats to share. It was always great.

Most of the farmers came up from the Rio Grande Valley and many only spoke Spanish but both Bonnie and I had enough high school Spanish that we muddled through. The Farmer's Market was where I learned to haggle. There was one vendor we called The Plum Man who only had plums, usually a few varieties and they were the sweetest, juiciest plums in the world. We once got a bushel basket for $3 and there were so many plums, even divided by ten, that I ate plums every day for two weeks. There was a similar occasion with figs, delicious little green figs that were bright pink on the inside and sweet as candy.

Of course when others shopped we never knew what we were going to get. A huge pile of okra meant Bonnie could have all the okra she wanted because I never did learn to like the stuff.

But the best part of our trips, in my opinion, was the Pepper Man. He was a small, weather-beaten, laughing fellow who arrived in a dilapidated pickup truck FILLED with peppers, dozens and dozens of varieties. Some too hot to even consider, but many that were mild, sweet and absolutely delicious. He would set up in his usual spot with dozens of baskets of different kinds of peppers and then hang strings of ristras all around his stand. His wife came with him and she sat on a blanket, surrounded by baskets of peppers, garlic and herbs, and make these beautiful ristras which they sold for a pittance. I always bought one for myself whenever I went to shop.

Ristras are beautiful things. In Mexican culture they are a symbol of welcome. Much like old New Englanders placed a pineapple on their doorstep as a welcome to visitors, so Mexican households would hang a ristra to invite people in. I never knew what kind of peppers I would get and sometimes the Pepper Man would point to one and shake his head no, “Fuego!” he'd say, “fire.” Once I put one of the Fuego peppers in a huge pot of chili I was making thinking one little pepper the size of my thumb couldn't make that much difference.... I was wrong.

I never left that Farmer's Market without a basket of purchases of my own in addition to our Co-op haul. A bouquet of fresh cilantro because I love the smell, a bag of tiny sweet limes, avocados and ristras for my door. I suppose they won't have ristras at the Farmer's Market on Harbor Loop but there will be other wonderful things. See you there on Thursday.

Thanks for reading.

Stupidity: The Documentary

2009-06-30T13:17:00.000-05:00

There are only two things which are infinite: the Universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former. - Albert Einstein

I stumbled upon this documentary recently and,despite all the negative reviews, I watched it anyway. I'm glad that I did. The movie has a lot of flaws, it spends too much time being what it is railing against. But the interviews with people like Bill Maher and Noam Chomsky make it a worthwhile use of time.

For a long time I've suspected that I do not have a sense of humor. I just don't find dumb to be funny. There are so many movies around that are just utterly ridiculous that I started suspecting there was something wrong with me --- that my sense of humor is seriously flawed. But I realized that I do laugh at a lot of things, just not stupid stuff. Now I know why.

Stupidity, according to the documentary, is “in”. People give a lot of justifications for that and those alone are fascinating. People say they act stupid because they don't want other people to think they are “too smart” or “too arrogant”. Leaving aside the codependence evidenced by these comments it is difficult to imagine that taking pride in being intelligent or educated would be perceived as a negative. Another oft-repeated comment was that they just don't want to have to think, they want to be entertained and have fun and that anything that challenges the mind is too much work.

There is a fair amount of time spent in the film exploring the origins of words like “idiot”, “moron”, “imbecile”, etc. Because I studied psychology back in the days when those were not obsolete terms I was aware of their origins in the classification of mental retardation --- a long, long time ago. But the filmmakers were quick to point out that when we talk about stupidity today, we re not talking about those people who are genuinely intellectually challenged. It would be cruel and unfair to call a person with limited intellectual capacities stupid.

Rather, the new definition of stupid applies to people who act stupid. People who are not intellectually limited, who may be educated, who certainly have the ability to function intelligently but make the choice to act stupid. In other words, if you act stupid, you are stupid. You are also probably popular --- at least with other stupid people.

The question is, why? One of the most interesting observations comes from environmentalist David Suzuki. He says that we need look no further than the way many people talk about calls to protect the environment and about global warming. Acting conservatively and environmentally should be a natural, responsible choice. Whether global warming is a real threat or not, nothing is to be lost by living an environmentally-conscious life and much is to be gained. Yet many people flaunt their disregard for those ideas in both their talk and practices. Why?

Suzuki says that it is a strange quirk of human psychology that we tend to rebel hardest against what we fear most. The more threatened we feel by something, the more we can tend to behave in rebellion to it. It is denial, plain and simple. Makes sense to me.

I have been reading Bruce Fein's Constitutional Peril in which he builds a frightening case for how, through foolishness and neglect, Americans are allowing the government (this was written during the previous administration) to erode the very principles on which our country is founded. In it he makes the observation that many people will believe and defend a lie rather than consider the fact that those in charge may be liars. The idea that a leader is a bad guy is something so scary to many people that they can't even let themselves consider its possibility.

We are so mired in sensationalism. Over the last couple of days I have been flabbergasted by the news coverage of Michael Jackson's death. All I have to say bout that is, gee, too bad. But, people, listen: WE ARE GETTING OUT OF IRAQ!!!! After six deplorable years, we are getting out --- who cares about a dead pop star?

Well, obviously, I'm stupid for asking that question.

I read the other day that our country spent $100 million dollars to investigate President Clinton's blow job, and only $14 million to investigate how a small group of uneducated terrorists managed to hijack 4 airplanes, destroy billions of dollars worth of property and kill 3000 people. That's how our priorities work. Stupidity has become our national mindset. How's that for stupid?

Thanks for reading.

Cape Ann Museum exhibits photographs of St. Peter’s Fiesta

2009-06-29T11:11:00.001-05:00

A small selection of photographs by Philip Reisman (1904-1993) is currently on view at the Cape Ann Museum. The photographs of St. Peter’s Fiesta are part of the Museum’s collection of approximately 450 color slides by Reisman from the 1950s. The photographs are on view through the end of August.

St. Peter’s Fiesta -- or, more properly, Fiesta di San Pietro -- honors the patron saint of fishermen and it is the largest, most colorful of the new celebrations which Sicilian immigrants brought to Gloucester. It began in the late 1920s as a neighborhood novena and expanded to a city-wide event in the 1930s.

Philip Reisman (1904-1993) was known as a Social Realist painter. He was also a printmaker, illustrator and amateur photographer. Born in Warsaw, Poland, his family fled to the United States to escape the pogroms when he was four years old. He lived in New York where he studied at the Art Students League and privately under Harry Wickey.

His early works were depictions of the ordinary working people of New York’s Lower East Side. During the depression he worked on WPA murals for Bellevue Hospital.

In the spring of 1944 he was persuaded by his friend Sol Wilson to escape the city and spend the summer in Rockport. Reisman, however, found the gritty working waterfront of Gloucester more to his artistic taste. He became fascinated with the fishing industry spending hours sketching, painting and later photographing the waterfront and the people who lived and worked there.

His artwork is in the permanent collections of many galleries and museums and has also been exhibited at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts, Museum of Modern Art, National Print Exhibition and the National Academy of Design.

The Museum has a collection of 28 of his drawings, oil paintings and watercolors in addition to approximately 450 of his color slides from the early 1950s. The Museum presented an exhibition of his art work titled Men and Machine in the summer of 1985.

Funding for this program was made possible through a grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council, which promotes excellence, access, education and diversity in the arts, humanities and interpretive sciences, in order to improve the quality of life for all Massachusetts residents and to contribute to the economic vitality of our communities.

The Cape Ann Museum is located at 27 Pleasant Street in Gloucester. Hours are Tuesday through Saturday from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., and Sundays from 1:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. The Museum is closed during the month of February, on Mondays, and on major holidays. Admission is $8.00 adults, $6.00 Cape Ann residents, seniors and students. Children under 12 and Museum members are free. The Museum is wheelchair accessible. For more information please call: (978) 283-0455. Additional information can be found online at www.capeannmuseum.org

How's The Re-Write Going?

2009-06-28T10:32:00.000-05:00

Aurgh! I was talking to a friend last night and she asked how the rewrite of the book is coming. Actually, because I have been sort of semi-trapped at home this week, I've gotten a lot done. I printed out the manuscript so far and did some re-reading and still find problems.

It is actually kind of fascinating to see how manuscripts evolve over time. Every now and then I'll come across something and think “what the hell was I thinking when I wrote that?” But, when I think more about it, I realize there was once a scene there that has changed drastically. I was at a little cocktail party last week and ran into a man whom I had spoken with on the phone before but never met. He, after a long career in business, has started work on a novel and he sent me a copy of the manuscript to review. I was impressed. I think he's got something good there. While we were talking he asked me how long it takes me to write novel. Well, so far I've only written two of them and I worked on both of them for several years. I think he was comforted by that.

He told me that he read that prolific and popular novelist Nora Roberts writes a book every 45 days --- 45 days!!! Holy cow! Actually, I just recently started one of her books because someone else was talking bout her. I'm only a couple chapters into it and it's very light and very easy to read and enjoyable if you don't mind improbable silliness. A woman running away from an abusive husband comes to island with very little money and no plans. She just happens to wander into book cafe in time to overhear an argument between the owner and an employee who is quitting. It just so happens that the woman is a fabulous cook and she can step right into the job this minute and her muffins drive the islanders mad including the very dishy local sheriff who just happens to wander in and order a muffin and also just happens to be single. Oh, did I mention the woman happens to be gorgeous and young? And that her employer just happens to own a cute little house out back that is not being used so she can live there? Well, that's as far as I've read so far....

My friend Clare is reading my manuscript and I'm enjoying listening to her observations as she proceeds with it. She already hates the bad guy. Good.

The truth is there is a lot of improbability in every story --- at least the ones that tantalize us. Someone once said that the best stories are the ones in which one of the characters has a secret. I love that because, of course, secrets are at the heart of most of my stories. Secrets fascinate.

When Mark and I were working on his book he was very secretive about certain parts of it and he wouldn't let my have each chapter until he felt certain that we had completed work on the last one. Even then he would rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. I started saving the many rewrites so we could go back and see how the changes aligned with other parts of the book. We had many a fight over these changes --- something that always drove him a little crazy. He'd storm off in his truck and not talk to me for several days. I'd keep busy with other things. Then, eventually, there's be a knock on the door and he'd be standing there, manuscript in hand, and say, “Okay, let's try it your way.” Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. I cherish those memories now.

It is Sunday morning of Fiesta. Somewhere nearby someone is playing a very plaintive tune on an accordion. It is cold and gray this morning and I'm a little tired from last night's festivities. There is another party in the neighborhood today --- if it doesn't get rained out. Maybe I'll just stay home and work on this book.

The truth is there is a new set of characters bubbling up in my subconscious. I have been thinking about them for awhile and they are becoming insistent. Time to get to work.

Thanks for reading.

Woke last night to the sound of thunder....

2009-06-26T10:02:00.001-05:00

...how far off I sat and wondered.

I guess waking in the night to the sounds of thunder is one of the most ancient of human experiences. There's that little stab of fear until you remember what it is that is causing this. And then the first slash of lightning comes. I still do the same thing I did as a child, lay there and count the seconds from the flash to the rumble. My Dad said that was how you could tell how far away the storm was..... count to 5 and it was five miles away, 4, 3, 2, 1 --- time to light candles and get out the rosaries. My Mom used to burn palms during bad thunderstorms. I don't know how that tradition originated but she would take a piece of the palms we brought home from church on Palm Sunday, crumble it up in a dish, and set it on fire.

Actually, those burning palms were the source of a few fires that fortunately got caught in time. It's safe to say our house was more endangered by unattended burning palms than by lightning but never mind that.

The windows were open when I woke up and I was going to get up and close them. I fell asleep last night to the sounds of partying in the street, “VIVA SAN PIETRO!” Over and over and over. But the rain never made it into the windows so I left them open. The air smells so wonderful during thunderstorms. And now, as I sit by the window writing this, it still smells wonderful with that fresh, clean, moist delicious sea-scent. That scent in the morning always reminds me of waking up at Aunt Rosie's house when I was little. Where I grew up in Pennsylvania there was no sea scent so when I stayed with my godparents, who lived near Lake Erie, that smell was such a treat.

Now I honestly think I can't live without it. I forget about it on a day to day basis until I have to go a few miles inland and notice that the air smells funny, dry and dirty. When I'm gone from Gloucester for a week or so I can hardly wait to get back here and drink it in. On morning's like this it is especially rich and welcome.

Today is the first day of the Greasy Pole walks. Nobody is a champion today, it's just trials. They start at 4:45 along with the seine boat races. At 7:30 there is a candlelight procession when St. Peter will be carried through the streets and placed on the altar. The fishing families will pray and cheer and feast and the rest of us will pretend we are among them.

The sea is everywhere today, in the air, in the festivities and activities and, of course, all the way around us on our little island. I count myself lucky to be here. Viva San Pietro!

Thanks for reading.

Fiesta Begins!

2009-06-25T09:50:00.002-05:00

It was wild in the street last night in my neighborhood. People were singing and laughing until midnight! The rain didn't dampen enthusiasm in the least. Our friend Jay Albert at Cape Ann Images tells the story: Fiesta! A Soggy Beginning

Candy Apples and Carnival Memories....

2009-06-24T08:52:00.002-05:00

I drove past St. Peter's Square last night and the carnival is in the process of being constructed. The vendors carts are in place and I noticed that Spaghetti Eddie's Italian Sausage with Peppers & Onions cart is right out in front. Where it should be.

They were working on the cart that sells candy apples and fried dough as I passed by and I couldn't help but remember the many such carnivals when I was a kid. Every year there was one set up in the Queen of the World Church parking lot and out goal, as kids, was to go every single night --- whether we had money or not. My brother Jack and I used to cut through the woods on the other side of Vine Road and meet out friends there. We'd walk up the old logging trail and when you emerged from the trees into the field along Larch Road you could already see the top of the ferris wheel spinning beyond the roof of the church and the school where both Jack and I had attended elementary school.

There was something enchanted about the carnival. All the carts and rides and games and stands were set up in a tight ring at the far end of the parking lot. The pavement was covered with a thick layer of sawdust and you were always stumbling over huge electrical cords. But it was wonderful. Once you were inside that ring everything was magic. The lights were brilliant and flashing and the music was loud and repetitive, coming from everywhere, making no sense. People squealed and hollered and laughed. I remember wandering around and around and around just watching everything.

Jack was partial to the stands where you shot at targets to win prizes. In retrospect I think it was sort of brave of those carnivals to have such a stand in an area where boys and men were used to handling guns and were generally pretty good shots. But, according to Jack, who was as good a shot as any but didn't seem to win a lot, the guns were so poorly sighted being a good shot was more of an impediment than a help.

I was always sort of fascinated by the people who worked at the carnivals. I knew there was something different about them though, as a kid I couldn't figure out what it was. I remember looking at the men who all seemed sort of scary to me. Many of them had tattoos. My godfather, my dear Uncle Buddy, had a lot of tattoos so I didn't find that unusual. But their tattoos always seemed bigger, more profuse and scarier. I remember standing by the machinery that ran the ferris wheel so I could watch the man who ran it. He had tattoos all over his arms and what you could see of his chest beneath his unbuttoned shirt. I was staring at them trying to figure out what they were when I realized he was looking at me too. I looked up and he winked at me. I turned and ran but that feeling stayed with me for years.

There were other carnivals, of course. When I was really little there was one that sat up in the field by the airport. The only thing I remember about that was the water tunnel with little dolls floating in ti. You picked out a doll and the number on its bottom told which prize you would get. I remember being very disappointed that I didn't get to take the doll home, too.

And every year there was the trip to the Clearfield Faire which was a combination county fair and carnival. Plus they had side shows back when sideshows were a collection of more scary, strange people. Many years later, when I was living in Erie, PA and working the night shift in a diner there was a combined circus and carnival that came every year and sat up in the high school stadium across the street. When the circus closed for the night the carnies, roustabouts, performers and other folks would come over to our diner for a late supper. It was always wild. I was nineteen then and so innocent. There was a carny who liked me and when I told him I always liked candy apples he brought me one every night. He had long black hair and blue eyes and a Quebec accent when he talked. He wanted me to quit my job and come with him. I didn't but I never forgot him.... his name was Baptiste.

Happy St. John the Baptist Feast Day and thanks for reading.

And then there is St. Peter....

2009-06-23T09:41:00.005-05:00

I wrote yesterday about St. Thomas More and St. John the Baptist but I did not mention the other significant saint's day this week, St. Peter, the First Pope whose feast is celebrated on June 29^th. Here in Gloucester that is particularly noteworthy because it is the time of Gloucester's annual St. Peter's Fiesta. Much has been made in recent years about the “fiesta” part of Fiesta with not as much consideration for the St. Peter's part. Among the faithful here, of course, the devotion began already last week with the first day of the Novena.

For non-Catholics, a novena is a cycle of prayer that lasts nine days and is focused on a particular intention. In the case of this novena it is an invocation to St. Peter, the Patron Saint of Fishermen, to watch over men at sea and intercede for them in times of need. It is a beautiful devotion. Altars are constructed in the homes of fishing families, people gather, prayers are said and rosaries prayed. The altars are works of art.

Early in my life here in Gloucester I was invited to the SanFillipo's one evening during the novena. I had only attended one other such prayer evening many years ago in Erie, Pennsylvania when one of my friends, whose father and brothers were fishermen, invited me to their home for prayers and then feasting. It was wonderful and served as the scene in The Old Mermaid's Tale for when Tony and Pio buy their first boat and their family celebrates.

The interesting thing about Fiesta, of course, is the seeming dichotomy of religious devotion and wild, bacchanalian celebrating but, in reality, this has a long tradition in Catholic European countries. It actually harkens back to pagan times when there were certain days every year that were designated “days out of time” or days that were, metaphorically, not on the calendar. Ancient people recognized that we all have our wild sides and they acknowledged this by allowing for periods every year where people could just go wild --- drink and dance and party in the street, share with one another and not judge. Children conceived during this time were regarded as being gifts from the gods (rather than the responsibility of whoever had been consorting with whom) and raised by the community with love and gratitude for the gift of them.

Later, as Christianity spread throughout Europe, pagan holy sites and sacred wells became the sites of cathedrals, pagan holidays (like the Winter Solstice) were transformed into Holy Days, and the “days out of time” became feasts with time to pray, give thanks, and then party up a storm. No wonder Christianity caught on so easily. Any marketing professional will tell you this was smart marketing!

But regardless of your beliefs, there has always been a tradition within the Catholic Church of devotion being coupled with celebration. I have been in Mexico on November 2^nd when they celebrate All Soul's Day/Día de los Muertos and in New Orleans when the night before Ash Wednesday is celebrated as Mardi Gras. St. Peter's Fiesta is no different. There is the religious devotion observed by the faithful and the wild partying enjoyed by faithful and non-faithful alike.

So tomorrow St. Peter's Fiesta begins officially. There are prayers and Masses and processions. The altar in St. Peter's Square is in place and awaiting the statue of St. Peter which will be carried on the shoulders of fishermen to its place. The carnival was being erected last night when I was down there and people's homes are a-buzz with preparation. This year has been hard on the fishing families. There have been losses and the fishing regulations have been terrible. St. Peter is much needed. The prayers will be in earnest. So, as Fiesta approaches, the cries go up again, “VIVA SAN PIETRO! Please help us.”

Viva San Pietro!

DON't miss this great interview with 15 time Greasy Pole Champion Salvy Benson on GoodMorningGloucester!

Hope, Faith, Saints, Prayers....

2009-06-22T10:39:00.003-05:00

I spent most of the weekend working on the endless rewriting of Each Angel Burns. I am struggling with the very last page. I know what I want to say but finding the right words is a challenge. It is a difficult story because there is an element of mystery and mystique in it that I'm convinced a lot of people will have trouble with but which I think is important. Well, important to the story anyway. The core storyline is about faith, or at least one man's faith, and how that effects the lives of the people he loves.

This morning when I checked my email I received my daily email from Catholics Online with a little story about the Saint-of-the-Day. Today's saint is St. Thomas More but it reminded me that in two days, June 24^th, it will be the feast day of St. John the Baptist. In The Old Mermaid's Tale there is a very tender and heart-breaking scene in which Clair remembers Baptiste's story about being born on the feast of St. John the Baptist and the festivals held on that day in his hometown in Brittany. It is one of my favorite parts of the book. As I was thinking about it it occurred to me that both of these novels, despite being both sexually-charged and filled with questionable behavior on the parts of many of the characters, are also suffused with the presence of Catholic saints. St. John the Baptist for The Old Mermaid's Tale and St. Gabriel the Archangel for Each Angel Burns. I actually never intended that to happen, it just did. Saints can be like that, I hear. They just work their way into things uninvited and all.

The truth is we are living in tough times. The last few decades have been particularly decadent and now the bill has come due. The economy is suffering terribly and many of us are suffering along with it. It is a part of human nature, I suppose, that when times become tough we are more inclined to turn our thoughts and hopes and supplications to God, to suddenly find ourselves in need of faith and hope. I'm no different than anyone else. I find myself praying a lot more lately, too. “Please, God, please help your people. We need you...” But, of course, not everyone shares that sentiment or that way of thinking.

So, I find myself thinking about saints. I think there is something very lovely about the whole notion of saints. A lot of non-Catholics don't understand what saints are. We don't worship them, we don't confuse them with God. But for many of us a saint is like a lens that helps us focus our thoughts and clarify our desires so we can pray and hope in a way that helps us understand where we are, how we got here, and where we need to change and grow and improve. A saint is an example of what is possible when faith is a daily ever-present part of life. Even when we doubt, and we all doubt.

It is a cold and rainy day here in Gloucester. June has been an unusually cold and rainy month this year. There is much sadness in the world right now --- wars, fear, want, need. Many of us have lost loved ones in ways that seem impossible to imagine. The leaves are blowing in the trees outside. I can hear the fog horn out on the breakwater and birds chirping and a train clattering across the tracks with its horn blowing. Sweet, lovely poignant sounds. Today is the feast day of St. Thomas More who was twice married and the father of a good many children but who was beheaded by Henry VIII for refusing to support him in his choice to leave the Church so he could marry Anne Boleyn. More is also an author. His book Utopia is still read by scholars today. And in two days it will be the feast of St. John the Baptist who was also beheaded by a king who wasn't getting his own way. These saints can remind us that those in power can be awfully vicious and irresponsible and we may suffer for that irresponsibility. Sometimes it makes no sense but we still carry on.

Maybe tomorrow the sun will shine. Maybe business will improve, maybe we'll learn to accept our losses and go on with our lives finding joy when and where we can. If we are lucky we have faith and hope that things will be better. And always there are saints who were no different than we in their humanness.

Thanks for reading.

A “Ravenous” Review

2009-06-21T09:17:00.003-05:00

Ravenous Romance, an online eStore for romance fiction, has a number of Gloucester connections. The photography for their sexually-charged book covers is done by Allen Penn whose studio is on the third floor of the Chamber of Commerce Building overlooking Pavillion Beach. Next weekend he'll have the best view in town --- the best!

And one of Ravenous Romance's editors is Skye Alexander formerly of Gloucester and now living in Texas. Some months back she emailed me and asked if I was interested in writing a story for a green anthology she and Ravenous Romance. What is a green anthology? you might ask. A green anthology is a collection of short stories all of which have a “green”, i.e. environmentally-conscious theme. Oh, and, lest we forget, each story has to be erotic using specifically erotic language and .... well, you get my drift.

My first book, My Last Romance & other passions, is a collection of romantic stories but none of them are explicit --- well, not very. I'm not in the habit of writing explicitly erotic material for the simple reason that it is really difficult to write anything creative or original in doing that. We all know the dynamics --- I hope. What is interesting about sex is what comes before AND what comes after. But the act itself... well, how many interesting and creative ways can you describe Tab A being inserted into Slot B? So it was quite a challenge for me to write a story that I loved and felt good about and then add in the specific details. A male reader once told me that he wondered why I always stopped short of completing sex scenes he asked if I was embarrassed. Well, yes, I am but not embarrassed by sex. I'm embarrassed by the thought of writing something trite that leaves no room for creative writing. Most fiction writers shudder in horror at having their creativity constrained. Where is it more constrained than in writing the same words for the same acts that has been done a gazillion times before?

But I did it. It hurt a little but I did it. I wrote an erotic story about a reporter for a green newspaper being sent to interview a Gloucester fisherman about the environmental impact of fishing practices and what happens to her. I used the descriptive words required and don't think the story is any more interesting for it but.... hey, I gave it a shot.

Yesterday I received word that the book "Green Love" was reviewed in Coffee Time Romance. This is what they had to say about my story, "Gone Fishing":

Lobster fisherman, Greg Conrad, is used to getting beaten down from reporters and people who do not understand how he works. When one of the female reporters watches him with hungry eyes, Greg decides that maybe leading by example is the best way for her to see his side of the story. When the reporter goes fishing for lobsters with Greg, she is surprised with how great a feeling she gets from being on the boat and close to nature. Even better is when the swaying boat has her body rocking against Greg’s.

One of the best parts of this story was how Greg got the reporter to see his side of things. However, the fact that the female did not have a name put me off a little bit. Ms. Valentine did a good job of keeping me aware of the conflict between the reporter and the fisherman. A good read with a funny ending that kept me happy and entertained.

I was a little surprised by her comments about my heroine being nameless. That is something I have often done for one simple reason, to allow the reader to more easily put herself in the heroine's place but, clearly, it didn't work for the reviewer.

Otherwise, I have no complaints. It's a good review. I have been wondering about the advisability of issuing the stories currently available at Heart Throb Books in paperback. One of the stories, Sailor's Valentine, is similar in theme to Gone Fishing. I'm told by readers it is steamy, even though I leave the inserting tabs into slots to the readers imagination.

Well, I think I may have had enough of explicit erotica. I'm getting older, it is true, but I still remember how it all works. nd my imagination still works just fine, thank you very much.

Thanks for reading.

Help for the Bird Lady

2009-06-17T08:37:00.004-05:00

Jodi Swensen has gained something of reputation in Gloucester as the local Bird Lady. When there is an injured bird Jodi is the person to call. But lately there have been more birds than she can handle and it has put a considerable strain on her budget. What Jodi does, she does out of love for her little (and not so little) feathered friends --- largely at her own expense.

Recently she had to move and we all know how expensive that is. Not to mention moving her large outdoor aviary. She placed a request for help on an area message board and a crew showed up to move the aviary for her. Now, as she settles in to her new digs, she is having a tough time keeping up with the birds who need her help.

A hummingbird with a broken wing in Jodi's care

Since I am, first and foremost, a web designer, I offered to set up a small web site for her so she could show some of her work and also let people know what she needs --- from insulin needles to frozen mice and from suet to --- well --- cash. The site went live yesterday. You can find it at www.CAWildBirdRescue.org. If you can help it would be most appreciated. You can make a financial donation using a credit card, bank card, or PayPal. There is also a list of “needs” on the page. If you find yourself with an excess of bird seed or detergent that would be helpful, too. Jodi's contact information is on the page.

Jodi rescuing an injured baby gannet on Good Harbor Beach

Jodi is especially concerned with the ever disappearing songbirds which so many of us love. Each songbird saved is a little bit of natural music that stays a little longer in the world. Please help if you can.

Thanks for reading.

Gram Werner's Mincemeat Tarts

2009-06-16T15:58:00.000-05:00

A funny thing happened the other day. I was wandering round in the grocery store and noticed a huge table of marked down items so, naturally, I stopped to have a look and there was a treasure! Several jars of Grandma's Mincemeat marked down from $8.99 to $1 per jar! Now, let me tell you, even if I wasn't a mincemeat fanatic that would be tempting but --- wow! --- how can I pass that up.

I fell in love with mincemeat before I can remember. Gram Werner, my mother's mother, made mincemeat tarts that were so delicious the thought of them can still make me drool. I remember standing beside her at her kitchen table when I was barely tall enough to see over the table, helping her to make mincemeat tarts. For one thing, she had the prettiest tart tins. They were much like a muffin tin except the bottoms were fluted so that when you pressed the dough down into them they came out with this lovely rippled shape. I still have 2 of them and, though I haven't made tarts in years, well, you never know when you might have to.

Anyway it was my job to put the “lids” on the tarts. Gram would cut out the dough for the tart and press it into the tin, spoon in the delicious, cinnamony filling, and then cut out little round dots to place on top. That's what I was there for. The next hour was agony as the whole house filled up with the fragrance of cinnamon and cloves and apples and raisins. And when the tarts came out of the oven they were just so cute. My brother Wayne and I fought over them all the time.

Gram always started her tart filling with a jar of Grandma's Mincemeat but it never stopped there. She'd chop up apples, and stir in raisins, and add more cinnamon --- sometimes some extra grated orange rind. Her tarts were juicy and fresher tasting than the kind made straight out of the jar. Hot, in a bowl with milk --- there was never anything better.

Years later when I lived in Erie I lived on Plum Street and my neighbor's name, I'm not making this up, was Mrs. Lemmon. Mrs. Lemmon on Plum Street. Mrs. Lemmon made mincemeat from scratch with apples and raisins and suet --- lots of booze and plenty of spice. But her mincemeat turned out very dry. It was delicious but didn't have the juiciness of Gram's. Some years later I tried it myself and I realized that what you had to do was make the mincemeat and age it in the traditional way but then add fresh apples when you made the tarts. That was Gram's secret.

My Grandmother Valentine had recipe in her cookbook for green tomato mincemeat. My mother made it one time when we had a surplus of green tomatoes and it was delicious though very different from what one might expect. Well, the truth is if you pour enough cinnamon into most anything it will be delicious. As an adult, I've given up most pies and tarts but I found that I could still get a mincemeat fix by shelling out the $8.99 for a jar and then parsimoniously using a couple of tablespoons of mincemeat in the center of an apple as it baked. That is still one of my favorite treats, mincemeat-filled baked apples.

Now I sometimes buy a jar, especially round the holidays, and keep it in the fridge. I use a small spoonful of the succulent, spicy stuff on a piece of buttered toast --- it is far superior to any jam or preserve in my opinion. And I always think of Gram when I eat it.

So, well, I went nuts in the grocery store. I cleaned them out. For $5 I have $45 worth of rich, gooey, spicy, tangy mincemeat. I feel like I won the lottery. I'll spoon it on toast or into apples as they roast. I might even get out Gram's pretty fluted tins. And I'll think of her while I make tarts. I still remember how to put the lids on.

Thanks for reading.

Meeting Brunonia Barry

2009-06-15T09:15:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I spent the day at the first ever Fiber Arts Celebration in Andover. I had been invited by Kate Broughton and Rose Ann Hunter to bring my book, “The Mermaid Shawl & other Beauties: Shawls, Cocoons & Wraps” to sell and sign copies. The featured speaker for the day was Brunonia Barry, author of The Lace Reader, a book that I loved reading.

After reading her book a few months ago I got very interested in Ipswich Lace and also purchased Marta Cotterell Raffel's The Laces of Ipswich: The Art and Economics of an Early American Industry, 1750-1840, the book that inspired Ms. Barry's book. Since Ipswich is just a few miles down the road from here and I drove through it twice a day on my way to and from work, it is quite fascinating to realize that at one time it was famous for the lace made there and that Ipswich Lace was the first American industry owned and operated by women!

At the festival there were three women demonstrating the making of bobbin lace, one of them in the traditional Ipswich fashion. I watched for awhile and found their skill and perfection mind-numbing. First of all, let me say that their tools were absolutely beautiful. The pillows the lace is made on are exquisite in fine fabrics with satin cording and braid and tassels. And the bobbins are just beautiful. One woman had bobbins that were decorated with all sorts of gorgeous glass beads. While I was watching one of the women said that she is in total control, quarter inch by quarter inch --- astonishingly delicate.

My table had a display of my handknit shawls on it and, throughout the day, people came by to look at them, talk about lace knitting, and even buy a few books. Though the lace readers in Ms. Barry's book read Ipswich-style bobbin lace, it was kind of exciting to be the only other person there displaying hand-made lace.

When Ms. Barry arrived everyone was quite excited to talk to her. She was as charming as could be and she made the rounds looking at everyone's work before her speech. When she stopped at my table I have to confess, I was thrilled. I told her how much I enjoyed reading her book and mentioned one part in particular. “You know,” she said, “that was really interesting to write...” and thus began a discussion about being a writer, the mysteries that involves and the unruliness of characters and how they often surprise their creators by not doing what they were supposed to do.

I gave her a copy of my book and she was very gracious about that and then it was time for her talk. She is fortunate in that she has a most pleasant speaking voice and her talk about the history of Ipswich lace, how she went about writing the book, her own dream that inspired it, and how her book has inspired a number of psychics in Salem to begin their own lace reading practices was delightful and informative. Afterward she signed books and stayed and chatted for a long time. She's a most personable woman, gracious, interesting and, even better, interested in the people who talk to her.

So it was an encouraging day. I sold some books, met a lot of lovely people and had a chance to meet an author whose voice I admire. She has two more books in the works that will connect to The Lace Reader, all set in Salem. I look forward to reading them.

Check out her blog, The Bruhaha.

On the drive home, as we passed through Ipswich, Leslie and I decided to make a point to get ourselves over to The Whipple House to see their exhibition of Ipswich Lace. They say that George Washington once made a special trip to Ipswich just to buy a bit of lace for Martha.... I'll post when I find out more about it.

Thanks for reading.

FREE Film Every Thursday Night at NSAA

2009-06-14T08:38:00.000-05:00

FREE Film Night - Surviving Picasso

Don't Miss It!

Host:	North Shore Arts Association
Type:	Music/Arts - Exhibit
Network:	Global

Date:	Thursday, June 11, 2009
Time:	7:00pm - 9:00pm
Location:	North Shore Arts Association
Street:	11 Pirates Lane
City/Town:	Gloucester, MA

Phone:	9782831857
Email:	arts@nsarts.org

2009 Film Schedule

June 18 Basquiat

June 25 Girl With a Pearl Earring

July 2 Pollack

July 9 Artemesia

July 16 Frida

July 23 Lust For Life

July 30 Modigliani

North Shore Arts Association is open Monday -Thursday 10am to 5pm, Fridays 10am to 8pm, Saturdays 10am to 5pm and Sundays noon to 5pm.

Another Angel Gone Home -- R.I.P. Carleen

2009-06-11T08:53:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I received sad news, Gloucester artist and beloved friend Carleen Muniz passed away after a long and valiant battle with cancer. She will be deeply, deeply missed.

I first met Carleen when I joined the North Shore Arts Association and was elected to their Board of Trustees. Carleen was both an artist and an officer and was utterly devoted to NSAA. She was one of those smiling faces that made that place the joy that it was. Over the years of serving two terms on the Board and then working for them as their web master Carleen was the person I most frequently talked to about issues concerning the web site's maintenance. When I started volunteering at auctions I was always on Carleen's team. She'd call me up before the auctions when she was orgnizing volunteers and say, "Well, I know I can count on you anyway."

She was a fabulous artist having studied with Charles Movalli. Her style was directly influenced by the Cape Ann School of Art founded by Emile Gruppé. I loved her paintings. They were brilliant, vibrant and alive. You can see many of them on her web site. They were frequent prize winners at NSAA. I especially loved her painting of sports. She was an active soccer player, playing on a women's soccer team until just a few years ago. She also worked at the YMCA and was just loved by everyone who knew her.

The last couple of years were difficult for her but she was always bright and cheerful. The last time I tlked to her on the phone I asked how she was doing. Her voice sounded frail but she said, "Oh, I'm fine." Then a pause and then she said, "you know." And I did.

So today the earth is missing an angel. She has left her poor, fragile little body behind but her spirit will stay --- in her paintings, and in the goodness of her life, and in all our hearts. Rest in peace, dear Carleen.

Thanks for reading.

seARTS Opening & Blogaplooza

2009-06-10T09:07:00.002-05:00

As most people who know me know, I'm not the most social person in the world. I like people and I usually have a good time when I do go out but I'm frequently reluctant to actually go out and do things. I'm like my Dad, I guess. My Mother always used to say about him and social events, “You can't get him to go and then, when he does go, you can't get him to leave.”Which is actually part of the problem. I know myself and I know how bad I am about going somewhere and then being in no mood to leave. Last night was a case in point: two events that I knew would be great and both of them at the same time.

Our good buddy Joe Ciaramitaro over at Good Morning Gloucester had organized the first ever Blogapalooza, a gathering for bloggers, webbies, and their fans and followers. We were to meet at 6:30 at Cape Ann Brewery down in The Fort. This was great but it coincided with the opening of seARTS' first opening reception of an exhibition held at the Bass Rocks Country Club. What made that special was that the speaker for the evening was a sculptor whom I had known years ago when I lived in Marblehead. Carol Seitchek and I belonged to a group that met regularly to support and help on another through big changes in our lives. I had not seen her in years and was looking forward to hearing her talk.

So I went down to Cape Ann Brewery at the appointed time and popped in just to say hello. Joe was there with 2 other bloggers and we chatted for a few minutes before I had to leave for Bass Rocks CC.

The party there was already crowded when I arrived and, as always, there were so many people that I knew --- many whom I hadn't seen in ages. I finally got to meet the photographer-husband of my friend writer/photographer Susan Oleksiw and was able to visit with a few neighbors, and friends from other arts organizations. That's one of the great things about Cape Ann, we have such a rich and diverse arts community that every time there is an art gathering of any sort you can count on meeting a lot of people you know and whose work you admire.

It was great to see Carol again, she is just as lovely and vivacious as always and her lecture on individual tastes and “comfort zones” in art was interesting. She showed a number of slides of contemporary work and we talked about our reactions to them. I, typically, selected as my favorite a somewhat monochromatic mixed media piece that included an architectural detail as the dominant image. I think I was the only one there who picked that one.

So, when the party was over I'd had 2 glasses of red wine and was still feeling social so headed back to Blogapalooza. Many of the folks had left, a few had moved down the street to Cameron's for the weekly Sea Shanty Sing. But there were enough people there to make visiting fun. Joe, of course, and 2 of my other favorite bloggers, Jay Albert of Cape Ann Images, and Jim Barber of For the Birds. It was just nice being there and Cape Ann Brewery is certainly a comfortable, friendly place to be. So, well, what can I say? I'm my father's daughter --- I didn't want to leave.

Thanks for reading.

Tour Gloucester Harbor with Jay Albert

2009-06-10T05:40:00.001-05:00

From our good buddy at Cape Ann Images:

I spent ALL day on this!

2009-06-06T17:15:00.001-05:00

They say you can never promote too much. Well, what do you think?

Pooling Instructions Available At Last

2009-06-04T11:42:00.002-05:00

Life has been very busy lately and I never seem to have enough time. However, I finally finished the instructions and diagrams for my Pooling-On-Purpose Project. The instructions are available as a PDF download from Ravelry. They are 4 pages long and include directions on how to "pool", advice on selecting yarn, and directions/diagrams for three garments: The Wrap, The Ruana/Shawl, and The Kimono Jacket. You can visit the Ravelry page by clicking here: Pooling-On-Purpose or click on the button below to buy:

Pooling-On-Purpose Ruana/Shawl & Kimono Jacket

Shown here knit in cotton chenille. Patter includes directions on how to "pool" (get colors to collect in one place) plus directions/diagrams for the ruana/shawl, the kimono jacket, and a wrap (not shown)
$5.00

Thanks for reading.

A package from my sister....

2009-06-02T07:59:00.004-05:00

My sister Lisa is one of the most clever and talented people I know. If I am the knitter in the family, she is the quilter and her creations dazzle me. The other day I received a package from her in the mail. It was full of treats --- most of the made by her and the most gorgeous one was this (click to enlarge):

The colors are just absolutely beautiful but it is her meticulous craftsmanship that always boggles my mind. Every corner is neat and sharp and perfect. I wish you could see the quilting. I should have made a closeup. I'm thinking of hanging it on a wall --- it is too beautiful to use.

Also, because both she and I live by the motto "There's no such thing as too many tote bags" she included this in her package:
Can you believe she made that? There is an Ethan Allen factory near her and she often gets remnants of their upholstery fabric and she makes the most gorgeous tote bags and backpacks from them! I LOVE this and used it yesterday when I had to take several packages to the post office. It has pockets on both sides and is the perfect size for shopping.

Her lovely box also contained a beautiful hand-made pillowcase with little fairies all over it and a selection of one of my favorite guilty pleasures, maple goodies from Coudersport's Annul Maple Festival --- maple honey, maple sugar (unbelievable sprinkled on fresh strawberries) and maple cream which can be used in many ways but is best licked off of one's fingers.

I'm so lucky to have such a clever sister! So now it is my turn --- I get to fill up box and send it back to her. I have a few ideas....

Thanks for reading.