For The Love of It

There are all sorts of things to love about New England; far too many to name in fact. It is easier to break it down by season, especially as we transition from Summer into Fall - my favorite season of all.

It has been a seemingly short Summer, though I find time in general is passing by far more quickly these days. They do say as we get older that time escapes us. I am frightened to admit it does. I try to get things done but the day is over before I know it, and then the week, the month.. and here we are almost in 2012.

As I was saying, Summer was short this year from a meteorological standpoint. We had some blasts of humidity and heat, some torrential downpours, and ended with one bang-up storm, Tropical Storm Irene. I was at the beach maybe twice, not including the week I spent in the Outer Banks in North Carolina, so it was not enough to my satisfaction. We are finally getting to enjoy outside movies as my friends and I had planned to do it all Summer. But like I said, time got away from us all.

The air has changed and while some humidity is still hanging over us, there is a crispness that sweeps in overnight. As the sun sets, you can feel the dampness seep through your think Summer clothes, calling out for a sweatshirt, closed toed shoes, or GASP, pants. I shall resist as long as I can, but as time has proven, the season will change with or without my permission. In fact, at a wedding I photographed this past weekend, the light has clearly changed and that auburn Fall light is being cast across the water in shadows. It is a beautiful sight to behold. And I am looking forward to another glorious Autumn in New England.

Irene, the Mean

I think most of us on the Eastern Seaboard have had the Dexy's Midnight Runners' song "Come On Irene" running through our heads for at least a few days. Endless weather forecasts and then headlines were covered on the news, constantly updated the progress of this massive storm as it approached Eastern Florida and headed north up the coast towards North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut and eventually through Massachusetts to us here in New Hampshire. That's not to say that other areas weren't affected and in the path of Irene as she went from a Category 3 Hurricane to a Tropical Storm.. no, indeed many, MANY people were affected in a variety of ways. The most widespread affects were power outages, with many areas not regaining power as of yet and estimates upwards of another 3-4 days before power is restored.

I lost my power for a moment about 11am, as I was comfortably sitting back watching local news forecasts of New York and other states close by that were seeing the storm just as it was about to hit us. It flickered and came back on a moment later, so I was relieved even though I was definitely prepared. I had my computer, cell phone and kindle all powered up, along with a portable DVD player so I could watch a movie in the dark. I wanted to reserved that as a last resort need though, for nighttime when there would be nothing else to do. And that is precisely how it played out.

About 1:13pm, my power went out once and for all. There wasn't any rain to speak of as that had passed earlier in the morning. The wind was picking up but even then I was surprised we lost power as I've endured far worse and maintained service. But you never know with power; it could be a tree, an accident, almost anything. So, I moved from a darker corner of the living room into a chair by the window so I could continue knitting my project in the grayish light of the whirling storm outside.

It was actually a very peaceful day provided I didn't look outside my windows to see the giant trees swaying like small branches. That was a little unsettling; if one were to fall on my roof, I would surely incur a great deal of damage. I did hear the tell-tale "thwap" of branches on my room but the felt and sounded more like branches slapping my roof rather then falling onto it. No idea if that's good or bad, just an observation.

So I calmly knit up the ends of one little sweater project and began a new shawl project, until there was so little light I would begin straining my eyes. I finally set up the little DVD player and watched "A Beautiful Mind" with Russell Crowe - a movie I've seen but could watch with a renewed appreciation since it had been a long time since viewing it. It was great, better then I remember. And it successfully drew my attention away from the uptick in wind speeds outside my window such that as I was getting ready for bed at 9:30 by flashlight, I was sort of amazed that it had calmed down so quickly. In fact, I was sort of shocked to learn that the worst was over. Had I missed it? All I had to show for this supposed Tropical Storm was no light and an early night to bed.

This is where I must speak to the truly humbling nature of a storm of this kind. I am grateful and supremely fortunate that I was not affected any more then I was. I was inconvenienced for one evening, as my power came on the next day. We all started to walk around blasting the meteorologists forecasts of a "Storm of the Century" and how wrong they had been. Well, hold up people. You might have been one of the lucky ones, but over 30 people lost their lives in this storm, and many more are suffering either without power for an extended period or worse yet, the extreme flooding that came after torrential rains overpowered streams and rivers in areas like Vermont, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.

The images that we are now seeing of these raging rivers is devastating and I am indeed humbled by the power of such a storm. We should consider ourselves very fortunate, whether you were inconvenienced or witness to the devastation in so many parts of the East this past weekend. Irene was mean, and we have to remember that each person experiences life differently. If you just had some wind and rain, be grateful. Be humbled. And be selfless in this time when your neighbors may be in need. I was very lucky, and I know that. I am very lucky.

POV

I've said many times that I feel fortunate to live in New Hampshire and to have the White Mountains, Lakes Region, and the seacoast as my backdrop. Within a few hours drive to some major cities, four hours from New York, and yet I can spend a lazy day on the beach at the height of summer and bundle up for an exhilarating day on the slopes in the middle of winter. We have it all in New England and I continually remind myself that there really isn't any place I would rather live.

That being said, I love to travel. Travel gives me a frame of reference to love New England the way I do but still appreciate other places and people for the differences I experience. Though British, most of my travel has been in the Americas. Ecuador, Chile, El Salvador, Costa Rica, Canada, and many U.S. States. I find myself now in North Carolina in the Outer Banks, a region of coastline along a peninsula that is well known for vacationers throughout the summer months.

All over this area including Nags Head, Duck, Kill Devils Hills, Corolla, Rodanthe, etc. there are mega-homes for rent by the week that can house multiple families for glorious beach vacations. We spend the week embracing the side of us that lounges in our swim suits all day, showering only when we begin to feel gross and 'furry' as my sister would say. Casual dinners with the family, swimming in the pool and catching sand fleas or boogy-boarding at the beach. Of course, my vacation is sleeping in, reading, knitting, swimming and dozing. And it's beyond glorious.

Whether it be vacations or business travel, seeing other parts of the country or world allows us to build up our perspectives on other places, other people, other cultures, other lives.. and from this we can develop a true sense of where we fit into the larger puzzle of this world. I like to think that we learn new things to expand our mind. But perhaps even more importantly, we see and do the same things, but in different ways, thereby expanding upon our knowledge and our frame of reference, making us more learned, better people.

The Sun, Corolla, NC

Something in the Water

Lake Wikiwas

We've had a few hot days pass by this week and the only reasonable place to be is in a pool, by the ocean or inside a cool, air-conditioned office. Sadly, I haven't had any of the above. Our office is "air-conditioned" though I do not really benefit as much in my corner since there isn't an actual vent to let in the cooler air. Needless to say, by mid-day I feel lethargic and cranky and desperate for a cold drink. I dream of dipping my toes in ice cold ocean water, or diving into the deep end of a refreshing pool. I am and will always be a water person.

My entire family is made up of water people. Some swim better then others but aside from the obvious benefits of water for it's cooling factors, there is a sheer joy that water brings from it's sound, it's look, and it's smell. Whether it's chlorinated pools or brine-y sea air, I am at peace near and in the water. Not boats, water. I go to sleep at night listening to simulated crashing waves and sea gull cries. I could do without the sea gulls, but I think they were added for authenticity. Whatever.

Now, we have had our run-ins with water as our nemesis. The flood of Mother's Day a few years back was one such event that I soon wish to forget. The tide was at an all time high, the moon's cycle was pushing the tide higher and then the wind. Water poured into the house on Main Street not once or twice but three times before the end of those few years was up. And that was just on Main Street. The Mexico house has had to endure Mother Nature's hurricane schedule, and while we've fared well there, we hold our breath each season. So, why do we rest close to the water? Why is it we are drawn to the lakes, rivers and oceans that meander wherever they choose, taking no consideration for buildings, cars or people? I think we do so precisely for the raw beauty of it's natural ways and paths. Water can not be tamed, and so it is one of the last things that really does weave it's own way amongst the man made structures that we put in it's path or within it's shores.

Water is majestic, powerful and god-like. I am in pure awe of the light glistening off it's surface, of the world beneath the waves of which we know so little, and of the power and fury it can yield in the midst of a chaotic storm. But most of all, I like it's peace. It brings a calm over me and a feeling of joy that started in my childhood, long before my first memories. Humans are something like 90% water, and since we rely upon it for survival, we honor it's role, it's necessity, and in turn, it's presence as a whole. For those that don't, water will always win.

The only win-win, is when we sit down and take a moment to appreciate a view that is as clear and as sparkly as the NH lakes on a blazing weekend or the Merrimac River on Memorial Day. And I am fortunate to live in a state that has both gorgeous lakes and almost 18 miles of seacoast with some rather nice beaches. I am fortunate enough to be in the presence of water at whatever turn I choose. And this is yet another reason why, in my humble opinion, NH is a great state.. where I choose to live!

Merrimac River, Amesbury, MA.

Jack's

It just so happens that the name "Jack" is a very relevant name in my family. Both grandfathers, while christened "John" were called "Jack", and now my nephew carries on the tradition. Each of them are very unique people, but all of them are deeply loyal, warm and loving family-oriented men (and boy.) I love the name and I love the people, even though I wasn't fortunate to know my maternal grandfather as he passed when my mum was just 11 herself. Regardless, I have come to believe it is an honor to have that name, and though common nowadays, there is a certain type of person who can stand behind the simplicity of the word while offering the complexity of the way it has come to be defined, at least in my family.

So it was with a great deal of curiosity that I went along to a well-known pub in Kennebunk for a light dinner and drinks last night. Federal Jack's sits on the waters edge overlooking the Kennebunk River, a unique location offering spectacular views especially now, as the sun blazes down on New England for longer, warmer days. In this port, large ships were built and sailed, including the "Federal Jack", one of the most famous ships built in the area in 1908. Some might say that bigger history was yet to be made on that site, as this was the birthplace of the Shipyard Brewing Company. And it goes without saying that they are well known for their brews, and have very loyal patrons of their own, as observed by the lengthy collection of assigned mugs hanging overheard the bar for the pub's Mug Club members.

For a Monday night, the place was abuzz. Families, groups of friends, couples and some individuals were poised in various areas of the restaurant, filling up most of the place without making it feel overcrowded. The wall of windows gives the restaurant and airy feel, light and welcoming, spacious and comfortable all at the same time. I felt more then comfortable joining the mostly male customers at the bar, by myself. So, I grabbed a stool, ordered a Summer Wheat and checked out the menu.

As expected, they had standard pub fare. Hamburgers, salads, sandwiches, buffalo tenders as well as some more hearty meals. I opted for a regular order of buffalo tenders, and sipped my very smooth Summer Wheat ale that came, appropriately, with a juicy slice of lemon. Yum. And before I was able to drink half my pint, the tenders came out piping hot with a crisp, spicy coating and a side of blue cheese. Again, yum.

I was once a member of a mug club; I may still be as far as I know. There is a sense of belonging associated with the assumed frequency of your patronage. I don't have that association any longer, though I suspect I might feel 'at home' in that place. I haven't been back for a pint in over a year, and havent' stepped foot into the building in at least 9 months. A long, sad story. So, I was glad to feel 'at home' here, in Federal Jack's. It is by no means convenient nor local. Nor do I expect to make the trip up to the area from home, a good 45 minute drive, often enough to qualify for the mug club, but I enjoyed the familiarity that came with the ambiance and the people and the food. I could see this place making it seem right to bring out the cribbage board again, something I miss and remember fondly.

It's not going to be my CHEERS, where everybody will know my name. But at least it was cheery. And to the patrons of Federal Jack's, the kind staff, and now future patrons, I say, "Cheers."

Sum, sum, Summertime?

It is difficult to believe that two months ago I was wandering around during Spring Break in Florida, overheating amidst the crowds of Orlando's theme parks. In between water breaks and finding spots of shade, we would seek out the cool air drafted by the ceiling fans that were brilliantly placed overhead in covered lines. Disney is a well-crafted, organized machine and they do pretty much everything right, including Summer.

I can't say the same thing for our Summer so far in New England this year. It has been a delayed Spring of sorts. We have had a day or two of extremely high temperatures punctuated with severe storms; lightening, thunder and even tornadoes. However, the more common phenomenon is the cool sea breeze with misty fog that settles over the seacoast of NH, encasing us in a cloud-like state without a ray of sunshine. Today is such a day, and while I am more prone to favoring temperate seasons and climates, I find myself missing the sun. I miss the warmth it delivers, the gaiety it promises with beach days and pool days. I miss the cook-outs, the beach walks, dinners and drinks on the decks, and running into old friends downtown, whose smiles are extensions of their joy at having the warm sun beating down on them, missed after a long winter and even longer and wetter Spring.

This weather, this extended Spring shrouded in fog, makes me think that you can surround yourself with people, as I have been, but you are as lonely or lonelier then you are alone. There is precious little time that I spend idle at home; my life appears to be en route from one thing to another, a supposed interventionist plan to prevent a state of loneliness. But I catch myself amongst strangers most of the time. Their faces are familiar, their stories carry over from one day to the next, but I don't know them. They don't know me. We haven't shared in those stories or those days together. They aren't my friends. They are just the people I spend time with and I have to wonder why we don't get to spend time with the people we care about more?

I made a concerted effort to plan time with those closest to me. I've eluded to my propensity for plans before. It's a fundamental characteristic of mine, something that needs to be buffered by a partner with spontaneity and a joie de vie. I am eager for Summer to begin so those plans can finally come together - the outdoor movie theater can have it's grand opening, the fire pit can be lit and the laughs will carry on through the warm night air, amidst the tiki torches and late night bocci ball games on the beach. Impromptu picnics on Newcastle common, sandwiches in the park, boatrides on the river, searching for sea glass inbetween chapters of a new book. That is Summer, not this misty cold gray air of strangers that I feel today.

A Wild Night

Over time I have come to find that live music, regardless of the artist, can be an experience unmatched by recorded CDs for sounds and unmatched for television broadcasts for their entertaining visual gifts. Like theater, live performance in music has ad libs, banter and artistic qualities that you don't find elsewhere. And so I find that attending the concert of an artist that I don't know well is perhaps the best way to get to know them!

One example of that was Brandi Carlile, who has come to be my favorite performer and singer of all. The tone of her voice sends shivers down my spine and I am a junkie for her quirky interactions with the audience and her band members. She is real, humble, and extremely talented. She brings the country twang to a soulful indie rock vibe, inviting you to be touched by her sound and her soul. So when I heard she was back on tour with Ray LaMontagne, I was determined to get tickets. Without confirming who would go with me, I bought two tickets and prayed this would not end up being one of those instances where I can't find a person to enjoy the show with me, thereby having at least one if not both go to waste.

Fortunately, a friend of mine that had seen Ray LaMontagne before and upon hearing I had tickets, was eager to see him Live again. Not knowing Brandi as well as I do, that part of the show wasn't the main draw for her, but we were both eager to go nonetheless. We booked a hotel for the evening so we could make the most of the night, not having to rush back late on a week night for work the next day and to be able to go out for dinner before the show. We made it into an event, something to really look forward to. And I was. Until the end of Memorial Day weekend when I was tired from lots of activity, late nights and visiting with girlfriends for marathon conversations. I knew I would still go since we had made such a elaborate plan, but I suspected I would be glad when it was over.

I am so glad to be able to say that while the end of the week that came after this concert was happily anticipated, I was still able to fully enjoy the concert; even more so then I could have ever imagined.

Secret Sisters opened the show with a collection of their own songs and covers of artist like Willie Nelson. Their repertoire had a stronger country influence then I generally like, but they interacted nicely with the audience. For having to play through the standard ups and downs of an early audience that's there to see a larger star band, they pulled off a good showing. They were even invited back onstage with Ray during his set and did a really great job of backing him up!

It was however, a highlight of my evening when Brandi Carlile and her band appeared on stage and ready to begin a set of songs that I adore.. songs I know well and songs that I sing along to under my breath. It was endearing to hear how grateful she is for the patronage of the show, knowingly for Ray, but also in part for her. In my case, almost entirely for her! And I was choked up by her raw truth and her voice touches my soul. I listened to her CDs repeatedly during a very difficult period in my life and she sung me through those times. I could sing her joy and her sorrow at the top of my lungs as I drove down the highway. It was a release and a therapy I could get no other way. And so I felt the tears well up, with gratitude for her, for an artist who can't even appreciate the positive influences she has had in lives she's never personally touched but has visited through her music.

I should elaborate on the weather some as it played a large role in providing a backdrop for the evening, the singers, and the audience. We had high winds, driving rain, and severe thunderstorms that had created a very serious tornado warning. Western parts of the state were hit by these wild tornadoes which created mass destruction. And here we were, sitting under a tent at the Bank of America Pavilion in Boston, on the waterfront, amidst tons of electrical equipment, for a concert. Who's crazier, the artists or the concertgoers?

Needless to say the flashing lightening didn't detract at all from the show. It had a timeliness that allowed for entertainment inbetween sets, though a severe cell of weather ended up causing a delay of Ray's set so we were forced to watch this severe weather roll right over the top of us.. cowering in our seats, watching the flash flooding run down into the stage area. But again, we didn't move. Perhaps we knew that Ray would be appreciative and perform a great set. A consummate professional, he did in fact show extreme gratitude for sticking around.. and we were rewarded with his soulful voice, impressive rendition of well known and lesser known songs, and accompaniment by the Pariah Dogs that left me speechless. It was a fantastic concert. And the fact that my sister encouraged me to get tickets to see the same combo tour again later in the summer is now a blessing. I look forward to seeing it again, and perhaps this time appreciating it without the wild, wild weather.

And in the spirit of it, Ray's song "Wild Horses" is one that I feel these days, in my core:

All the wild horses

All the wild horses

Tethered with tears in their eyes

May no man's touch ever tame

May no man's reigns ever chain you

And may no man's weight every defray your soul

And as for the clouds

just let them roll

Roll away

Roll away

And as for the clouds,

just let them roll

Roll away

Roll away

Mercy

I am not ignorant of the fact that today is Memorial Day and that it is appropriate that I should recognize the sacrifices that have been made in the name of freedom and our liberties. I am grateful and cognizant of the civilians, soldiers and soldiers' families who have been affected and wish to say, on this Memorial Day, thank you.

In the meantime, it's fair to say that most of us associate Memorial Day with barbecues and meeting with friends and enjoying the outdoors; boats and jet skis, cookouts and bonfires, beers and margaritas. It can be a fun and eventful time to kick off the summer season. It was with these ideas in mind that we set to make plans for a reunion of my closest college friends, even one who had to travel over 1700 miles just to be with us for three days. It was a weekend of adventures, no doubt. Some that we planned but most that we did not.

There is only so much planning that one can do to put together the schedules of four adult women. It is important to remember that coordinating plans for travel is important, but that you can't over-plan or you lose the spontaneity and organic nature of fun that comes with just interacting with people you don't get to visit with often. I am inclined to schedule all that can be planned but fortunately, I was well balanced by others whose ideas are to just wander and be. I like that. I like being reminded to just be. I am capable of it, I just need reminding once in a while.

So, the entourage arrived piece by piece. I was first.. rolling into the hotel parking garage right on time with my small overnight bag. I had time to spare so I just idled for a few moments before shutting off the car so I could go to wait in the hotel lobby for the next two friends to appear. Before I knew it, I heard this loud bang and almost though a car had backfired or a pipe bomb had gone off. Instead, a cloud of steam came billowing out of the hood of my car and a gush of liquid drained out onto the garage floor. I promptly shut the car off and realized that I was in a tough position. Friends were arriving, we were checking into rooms, AAA was estimating over 1 hour for the FIRST of two trucks and $150 cost to get my car back to NH. I was not happy but I was able to rationally get everything in order for me to manage the situation. That is, until I was two glasses of wine and a sip of a cosmo into my wait for the second truck to arrive. My car had it's hazards on settled onto the street illegally, we were sitting at the hotel bar so the final tow truck could cart my precious vehicle away for service, once and for all.. but the anxiety of the moment got the best of me once I let my guard down. The underlying concerns of not having someone or something to fall back on came rising to the surface and I realized that the person I felt I could call in a crisis wasn't there to call anymore. In fact, he isn't there for me at all. And even if he couldn't be there in person, he would be there for support and yet he has in fact written recently that he has removed me from his life and mind and that for this reason he could once and for all be free to move on. And he has, moved on smoothly, it seems. And I cried. In the middle of Belvidere Street in Boston as the nice tow truck man packed my car onto a flatbed tow truck, the tears began to stream down my cheeks and there was not one thing I could do about it. Even now, the emotions run extremely close to the surface if I choose to think about the moment. The feelings in the moment, and the feelings I have still lingering that are unresolved.

We were able to salvage the rest of the night but I was drained emotionally, so instead of joining my three closest friends for late night drinking, I went to bed. Sensibly, I knew that the sadness and depressing thoughts would creep in stronger and larger then I could handle if I drank more. Ironically, my friends ended up passing on bar which ended up being too "young" and going bowling, but I was still fortunate I didn't take part as their hangovers the night after were enough that we felt it was a good idea to modify our plans.

Instead of a day of shopping or visiting the museum, we packed our sorry butts into the VW TDI and drove out of the city headed to the respite of the quite NH seacoast area. And then.. the traffic. Who schedules construction of Rt 1 on a holiday weekend? I'd like to talk to that person! With the help of Google Maps, I tried to navigate us around the dark red traffic overlay on my map, orienting through Malden and eventually into Saugus, trying to meet up with Rt 1 again just before we were to hit The Border Cafe, our destination for a much needed hangover lunch. We did ok.. we at least made it onto the highway at the right time, and we made it to the Border Cafe in time to feel growling tummies. The timing, while a little too long spent idle on the highway, was fairly good and we were pleased with the delicious meals that we were served. Personally, who knew that black bean and corn empanadas would be SO tasty! We all packed to-go leftovers with the knowledge we would want to snack on them again later.

However, the slow road had set us back a little so by the time we made it to the seacoast of NH, by way of my office to print out a living-social coupon, we were on the verge of having to show up at the movie theater for our designated performance of the Hangover 2; a movie that we felt we would all enjoy watching together not just because of it's subjective relevance in the moment, but for our friendships and our college experiences. So, off we went to the movie theater..

To be honest, the rest of that day was pretty perfect.. we got take out Thai food and sat around talking. We went to bed fairly early and enjoyed a restful morning on Sunday. After motivating for a great walk on the beach, searching for rocks and sea glass, we went to The Beach Plum for the much anticipated (5 year craving) Clam Roll. My friend, H, was giddy with excitement, lurching at the call of an order in the hopes the next one would be her golden delicious clams stuffed into the perfect grilled hotdog bun. Sure enough, we each got our summer specialty - mine of course being the PERFECT lobster roll. Yum. We were satiated, we were satisfied, we were happy. The day only got better as we window shopped downtown and bought t-shirts for the Mr. and baby H. And then it was time to say goodbye to E. We sent her along on Amtrak so she could meet her own family and extended family in Connecticut. We were sad to see her go but we had a great time together.. and were grateful that she shared her holiday weekend with us when her family went ahead of her to see family!

But a mellow day allowed us to ramp up into another night of memories and fun. We started off with cocktails on the deck of Castaways on the water in Dover. Who knew there was such a thing!? It was townie, by definition. We joked the boats would put Miami and Ft Lauderdale to shame.. only in their relative importance to the owners perhaps.. these being the prize possessions of the hard working residents of nearby Dover and other surrounding towns. The local band, playing a painful version of "reggae" was there to entertain, though we were far more entertained by the other patrons. So before we made a scene or judged too hard, we were off to the store for salad and pizza makings, and to get home for some WINE!!

And then it was time.. time for wine. I fast forward because that is essentially how the evening went. Talk swept the hours away, hours spent chatting on the back deck.. in the warm breeze starring out at the green trees surrounding my home. I had two friends who could see the dark cloud come over me... the same cloud that came over me in Boston two nights earlier. But instead of letting me go to that place alone, they reached in and did all they could to pull me out.. even going so far as to put me on the phone w/ H's mom so she could remind me what I have.. what special people are in my life and love me just the way I am.. and that people who chose not to be a part of my life were missing out. They missed out on being part of me and what I bring.. and what I am and am becoming. I cried hard. I cried a lot. But I had their comfort and their hugs and their love. So it is with regret that I must reveal what came next.

The arguments. The disagreement. The misunderstanding. Alcohol can play a disastrously destructive role. And it almost did. It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar, unwelcome and unwanted. But it happened and was over before any one of us understood how it started.

And then it was bed.

And then it was over

Thank goodness

We came to the final day which, based on the events of the evening before, was plagued with more illness and hangover. It is a shame for the last notes of an otherwise good weekend to be dark but we can not always control the way things come down. In fact, I proved this point when I was on my way to take H back to the airport in order to get back to Mr. H and baby H. One quick stop to get a Frapuccino (in the hopes it might caffeinate away her hangover), and we should've been on our way. But my recently medicated sick little car overheated again. And we were sidelined in the random town of Epping. MERCY.

You have to wonder sometimes how much a person is meant to take. I shudder to ask. I shudder to think but somehow, someway, I have to believe that I have paid my dues in pain and anguish, suffering and sorrow. This has been a couple of years from hell. A year full of lows so low that I could not even begin to pick myself up sometimes and were it not for great friends and family, people I can count on one hand, I would probably still wallow in that sorrow. Instead, I ask for help. I ask for assistance. I ask for a reprieve. I ask for happiness. And I ask for MERCY. A person can only take so much. A person can only take this much.

Mercy.

The Life and Times

It was a busy weekend.. I can't even recap and give each aspect of the time the credit it deserves. At the very least I can say that Portsmouth is once again opening it's arms to the likes of some very unique and high-quality business that should both encourage new business but also support the loyal consumers that are already frequent patrons of local businesses in the area.

The owners of Fresh Local opened a new restaurant called STREET that is both eclectic and perfect. Situated near the button factory mill buildings, the restaurant answers back to the industrial space with reutilizing bicycle wheels for a chandelier, ladders for wall hangings, and graffiti for artwork. The menu is a graphic display of drawings and words, answering to the call of international foods available from street vendors from Korea to Central America. My friend and I are shared the empanadas which were delicious. I had the Korean bbq meal and my friend had the pork sandwich - everything was great. Especially the shandy!

We followed dinner with a play at the new Music Hall Loft - Love Song. It was a sweet, funny tale of a man who is challenged by mental deficiencies or emotional deficiencies. Craving love. Craving affection. Only wanting to be seen. It was sad. It was good. And the space was perfect.

I went to another art space later in the weekend that was also small, Tupelo in Londonderry. We saw Mindy Smith perform acoustic guitar, and I cherished her "Jolene" and "One Moment More", however sad and however much they stung my soul. She was awkward and she was unprofessional. She was good. She was perfect.

Ready for A Dandy Summer!

Wine is fine..

But a SHANDY is dandy!!!

Summer showed it's hand when I was on vacation. Temperatures that lured you to the refreshing pool, breezes that didn't refresh so you hunted down cold drinks and ice cream. It won't be long before our New England Spring disappears, faster then we even realize, and the muggy summer oppression settles over us. I admit there is little that appeals to me about overwhelming heat. I think of air conditioning and pools as my best friends in summer, and thankfully I have access to both.

That doesn't mean we shouldn't prepare for alternate ways to stay cool and work at enjoying a season that seems to disappear almost as fast as it shows up. Barbecues, walks on the beach searching for sea glass, driving with the moon roof wide open, flip flops, maxi dresses, bright flowers, and happy people. And shandys.

I went to a concert last summer with my sister and some new friends. We piled into a new VW van and cracked open the Dogfish beer and Arizona lemonade while sitting in line on the highway amongst hundreds of other concertgoers, eager to pile onto the lawn and see Jack Johnson bring the Hawaii ease to Maryland. It was a special night. It was a HOT night, and aside from having to share a tiny spot of grass with millions of other people, my sister almost missing the one song she knew, and the sweat dripping down the back of my legs, what I remember most are the shandys we drank tailgating.

My tastes have come to clearly prefer the wheat beers - anything that is deliciously accompanied by a lemon, lime or orange slice. They are refreshing and light, some of which self-designated beer connoisseurs scoff at. But I don't think you have to like all beers, of all types, to be considered someone who enjoys beer. Because I enjoy beer. And what I enjoy may be limited, and was once almost reliant upon the company I kept, but now I have a real appreciation for the light froth, a smooth flavor, the cold glass, the tingly bubbles. And for me? I can appreciate mixing it with a cold, refreshing lemonade. For that perfect summer drink. A shandy.

Cheers.

Breaking News

I am already up FAR too late, but we have presumably learned breaking news that is intended to change the way we have come to live in the past ten years. Osama Bin Laden is dead. Our military forces targeted him in a compound in Pakistan and have recovered his body, shot and killed.

I have little hope or faith that things will change for us here or for those overseas with this news. In fact, it is highly plausible that extremists will use this as an opportunity, excuse or rationalization to strike out once again. A backlash that we certainly don't need or want. Worse yet, it will revitalized extremist operations in the plotting of further terrorist actions against the US and people living here and abroad.

Just because he is dead, we are no safer. It is what he stands for, even still, that we fear. And if we think back to those days 10 years ago this coming September, we recall why that fear resides deep within each of us.

I am not one to act or think politically. I do not often take a strong stance, at least not in an outspoken manner. I believe we are each entitled to our opinions, and as such, the need to debate or argue matters is just that, a need to argue. If we are resolved within ourselves to feel passionate about certain matters, there should not be a need to strike up contentious discussions with others. We can learn, if we are able to hear the other side. But those of you who initiate 'fights' often can't listen.

I've listened. Closely. Often what I hear worries me.. and I guess I just felt that my humble little NH opinion on this was worth recording.. in as much as I hear what the news and the people's reactions are to this announcement. But what I also hear is that nothing is fixed. Nothing has changed. Nope. Instead, we are right where we started... three wars in. And our supposed reason for going into those wars is now gone. But we can't just walk away from those battlegrounds. Nope. We get to keep on fighting.

Isn't that always the case? Seems to be. Always fighting something.

Truly Humbled

I am sorry to say that I have been burdened by an overwhelming sadness for what seems like a very long time. Over that time, dates that were important to me came and went, hardly noticed and seldom appreciated. If anything, they reinforced the longing and the horrors of the pain I have tried to learn to live with everyday.

Recent events have caused me to recognize that perhaps the fog is lifting. It has been as if I had thought I was in need of a new heart and I was called with news that one had become available. Instead of a new heart though, I was able to recognize that my heart was actually accessible. That even with pain, agony and hurt, I still had the capacity to acknowledge and accept caring acts. Acts of kindness were showered over me on my day; my Birthday!

Although I do not thrive as the center of attention, I do enjoy my birthday. A day when I feel as if I can accept compliments, love and appreciation. Unlike other days when I don't feel deserving. And so it was with great and awesome humility that I watched as friends came forward, new and old (from far corners of the earth) to wish me a happy, happy day.

While plans weren't necessarily made with any great preliminary scheduling, things came together perfectly. I am able to acknowledge that I am extremely fortunate. Perhaps this was not luck but an intervention of proportions that I dare not try to explain. Knowing that I was in desperate need of this support and displays of love and caring, my friends and family stepped forwardto show me that I matter.

I still believed that I might hear from the one person I hoped to hear from but I had to accept that I would not. And I had to not let that bother me. I had to not let that take away from the simple pleasures that this day and the love of my friends and family offered; something that has fallen on me and gone unfelt and unappreciated for a long time.

I can not begin to understand why it is that important people may not stay in your life. And I will never like it. But I have had to come to accept that it happens. Without acceptance, I would be unable to appreciate what I do have, and the people that do stay. These are the people that do love me and do care about me and I am humbled by the words and sentiments I received.

Thank you doesn't begin to offer you back what you have given me today. You know who you are... My heart bursts with the knowledge that maybe, even in the darkest hours and the loneliest places and the deepest hurt, I am not alone. So thank you. From the bottom of my battle-weary heart, thank you.

Thinking INSIDE the Box

Rain or shine, night or day. I love going to the movies.

There is nothing like sitting back in a comfortable, rocking chair as the lights dim and the sound, the surround sound, comes up from the floor, up towards the ceiling and back across the walls to lift the hairs on your arms. And then, the movie begins. You can disappear into the darkness and take part in a story as it unfolds on the screen up ahead.

Yes, the movies are an escape that many of us enjoy. Hollywood is counting on it! Unfortunately, the costs of this escape continue to rise. Ticket prices are now anywhere from $9 to $12. If you purchase them online, ahead of time, you incur processing fees of $1-$3. And this could all before you even step foot into the actual multiplex. So, what happens once you pass through the lobby? Or you take your seat and begin to watch the pre-preview ads and miniclip films? Your tummy rumbles or your mouth runs dry - and that drive-though jingle comes to mind.

Mmmm... yeah. A drink. A drink would be good. So back to the lobby for a drink. A sweating paper cup of bubbly soda with your long straw so you can sip it quietly throughout the flick. But what about a snack? $4 candy? $5 popcorn? $6 nachos? I'm a milkduds gal. The best movie candy E-V-E-R!

So, the tab goes up and up as you go from movie ticket to drink to snack to who knows what. It doesn't often bother me but I am starting to become aware of the fact that some families and friends consider the movies an extra special treat because the cost is prohibitive to take the whole family. The movies used to be the lowest cost family-fun but it's certainly not like that anymore. The cost for a family becomes a challenge.

Innovation is born from challenge. And I witnessed this tonight. Sadly, I may be VERY far behind in this observation but I was impressed. I was impressed by the simple and honest loophole strategy that was employed not by one or two people, but at least four or five that I saw just on my way TO the restroom before my movie started.

You know those arcade games that appears in the lobby of a movie theater, and even sometimes at the entryway to common superstores? We often see the glass tank filled with stuffed animals and a crane, the promise of an easy prize. It's not that easy. Somewhere close by are the gumball machines. Those dusty glass balls that drop a gumball or two down the silver chute for a quarter. A simple turn of that wind-up handle and the gum is dispensed. Well, right next door there are now other quarter-vending machines.Runts, M&Ms, Skittles... a quarter will drop down a small handful of your favorite sweet snack. So evidently, the math started to make sense.

Four quarters equals four turns of the handle, a sizeable portion of sweet snacks. You wouldn't dare spend 12 quarters at those machines. But we'll spend $4 for a box of candy? I suppose w would, if the candy weren't available at a quarter of the price in the little glass vending machines near the games. And so I was caught off guard by the thrifty genius of this means of getting some sweets for the movie. I would be more inclined to sneak in a drink and snack in my bag. But this is not only MORE innovative, but the revenue is still benefitting the multiplex, which I appreciate is a business just trying to survive, like we all are. So, maybe next time I'll just sneak in my own little ziploc. Then my quarter's worth of M&Ms really won't melt in my hand. They can melt in my mouth.. while my leftover money gets to continue burning a hole in my pocket!

Maybe now the whole family can go to the movies together. After we search the couch for lose change at least...

It's All Greek To Me

I can not figure out how it has come to be April already. Time is whizzing by and I can't seem to catch my breath. I swear it was February last week, and New Years the week before that. Unfortunately, this fast ride causes me to mourn time lost.. and even these short glances into the rear view mirror have me miss moments, hours and days of the present so that I'm in the future long before I thought it was even approaching.

And so, the season that I use to plan for year end sales is here. That's the other thing. I work in a profession where we're constantly working 6 months ahead of time. So I am now putting together information and organizing data that relates to information people need in June, to plan for November... November, Thanksgiving. So, you see I am already talking about Thanksgiving. WAIT WAIT!!!! I want to put on the brakes. Let me enjoy today. Let me take a deep breathe!

I think this is why I struggle to go to bed at night. Regadless of how exhausted I am trying to keep up with world as it operates at light speed, I stay up WAY past a time that is reasonable in order to maximize my "me" time. I get absorbed in some project or another and before I know it, it's 2am and I am LONG past a reasonable hour to fall asleep. So my theory on control extends to time. If I stay up long enough, maybe.. just MAYBE I can prevent the next day from starting? Wow. RIDIK!!!

So I sit here at 2am, thinking that I have not vented. I have not shared. I have not put "pen to paper" or "finger to keyboard." I've had plenty to say. I don't know that I often feel a loss for words. Though, I have at times had to be careful not to say things I would regret. And since I am impulsive, my most recent incidence of this resulted in hanging up on someone. Someone important. I hate regret. But I regret that. I doubt I missed hearing anything that would have been good. It's been bad for a long time. But I regret not being a bigger person and saying, "good luck. Be happy. Take good care of yourself." Course, I am not silly enough to think that me saying or NOT saying that has any influence of affect on another's life. It doesn't. In fact, I have come to realize I have little to no affect on other lives. Just my own. And that's enough pressure as it is.

So while I could go on to explain how much I love Cafe Nostimo (and coincidentally had lunch AND dinner there today), my title for this entry is more to do with the fact that I'm confounded by most things these days. Things are turned upside down, leftside right, I have a constant feeling of omnipotence about my life, watching it happen, and that time isn't my friend. But I try, each and every day, to find something I can enjoy. An email from a friend, a good movie, buying tickets for a new show (summer is shaping up finally!) or just having that quiet (elusive) moment when my mind is quiet.

But truly, what I know is that I know very little. I don't know what has happened and what is going to happen. It just has to be. And I have to try to stay running alongside life.. playing in the game as often as I can.. so as not to see everyone else make their goals and me, well, just trying to catch my breath.

So, if it's all Greek To Me, I should learn Greek. I at least eat it - and that's a good start. Especially if it's from Cafe Nostimo!

A Tragic Loss

I suffer my own pains, angst and sadness. But I was shaken by news today that was both unexpected and horrifying.  My dear friend, Kristina, has lost her brother, Craig, to Sarcoma. He was 34 years old, the father of a beautiful son, Cody, and an much adored friend, brother and son. He will be missed terribly.

I met Craig once. I had plans to meet Kristina for dinner at our favorite summer spot, the Ice House, last year.  She called me the day we were meeting to say her brother and mother had stopped by and wondered if they could join us.  The four of us ordered plates of typical summer fare, fried baskets, and ate at a picnic table outside. The weather was great, but the mood was somber. It was as it no one dared talk of the disease and yet, it was hard to not talk about what was obviously consuming everyone's thoughts. Over ice cream, I asked Craig how he was.. and there was almost an audible sigh of relief that I had broken the trance. That he could talk about it. Acknowledge what everyone was afraid to bring up. Again.. Craig left an indelible impression on me from this chance encounter. I won't even try to explain, as that would be an injustice; words can only serve to minimize his affect. His character was both strong and nurturing. For someone who was in the throws of extreme cancer treatment, he portrayed none of the weakness that his frail body was evidence of.  I had hoped to get to know Craig; to get to harness some of the calm and peace that he seemed to have found. And it is so clear he was loved. And that he loved. Especially his precious son, Cody, who will sadly not grow up to know his amazing father.

You will be missed Craig. A lot.

A Toast to Restaurant Week - Portsmouth

It's that time of year again - some fine dining establishments in and around Portsmouth, NH are providing sampling menus at prix fixe so patrons can enjoy a special lunch or dinner. This is a great opportunity to try someplace new or enjoy and old favorite. It was once again time to rally the troops and set out for a great meal and great company.

We are fortunate in this area to have many great restaurants. Once I knew the list of participating restaurants for this session of Restaurant Week, it didn't take long to isolate those I was most interested in visting.  I think this time of year is a great opportunity to try new places; when restaurants put their best foot (plate) forward in an effort to hook new patrons for more regular dining. Top of the list of restaurants I had yet to visit was Cava.

Cava means "cave" and is used to reference the fact that caves were used in the "preservation or aging of wine" per wikipedia. Specifically, if refers to a sparkling wine produced in the Penedes region of Spain, and is classically a white or rose sparkling wine. One a personal note, I really enjoy Cava and consider it a more palatable alternative to Champagne, much like Prosecco. Mmmmmm....

I've admired Cava from afar for some time. The word on the street is positive; food is good, drinks are great, prices are high. So, I was pleased to get a chance to try out some of their featured plates at the fixed price, for a four course meal. Now, four courses at a wine and tapas bar are not going to be as sizable as at a standard restaurant. Tapas are generally small plates of food with a few bites, meant for sharing, and intended for patrons to order a few different plates so as to get a variety of flavors.

The prix fixe menu had three selections to choose from for each course. Drinks are not included, so it was clear the final tab would be higher then the standard dinner price. A $28 dollar bottle of unoaked French Chardonnay was a very tasty and delicious choice though, and seemingly the perfect accompaniment for more then a few of the little plates.

I started my night with yellow fin tuna with avocado and grapefruit. The plate came with two generous pieces of raw tuna with peppercorns sitting atop an avocado cream spread. Small segments of pink grapefruit on top of the tuna, and a grapefuit gelatin as decoration. The tuna was delicious and the avocado was pretty standard. The gelatin was completely unnecessary and may even have detracted from the success of this appetizer.

My second course was roasted asparagus with some sort of chili hummus. I was underwhelmed. The hummus-like spread was tasty, but the flavor dominated the plate and was a little too difficult to identify to be all that appetizing.

My third course was the steak. It came with a roasted ramp puree and blackberry. Again, what are they doing complicating my food with fruit!? Ugh. But the steak was delicious though slightly overcooked for  "medium", in my opinion.  

The winning plate of my evening was the dessert - churros with "hot chocolate". The hot chocolate sauce was delicious and served warm for dipping of the freshly fried churros covered in cinnamon and sugar. Possibly even some cayenne pepper.  It should not be a surprise that I spent my time relishing the chocolatey goodness.. and chose to share with my friends who, sadly, did 'lose' on the dessert. I think they liked their cream w/ berries and shortbread or cheese with apricot chutney, but I won.. at least with dessert.

I think we all agreed it was a nice dinner. The food was good though on occasion there were elements included as part of decoration that were unnecessary and seemingly incongruous.  This didn't detract from the experience as much as the ambiance of the restaurant though. For a place that is a tapas and wine bar, the layout of the entry way and bar were awkward. The bar is very small, and the first dining room only had three tables. In fact, the evening started off on a strange foot, as the host pointed us to our table instead of walking us to the table. I told him the name on our reservation and was told, "yes, your table is that one over in the corner."  ok.. 

Our server was extremely pleasant and helpful, as we did need her assistance understanding the menu. We could not determine if the dishes were described by the name and ingredients, as it appeared to be. However, there were descriptors such as "mono chromatic"; how is that meant to be appealing? 

And finally, the dining room didn't fit the restaurant's theme or food and the music was really distracting. Too loud. Decorations were too obscure and inconsistent with being spanish, tapas or wine.

I don't go out nearly as often as I used to. With so many great restaurants, I have trouble sometimes deciding which fine restaurant to revisit. I am pleased I finally got to experience Cava, and it was good, but I would not say it was good enough to warrant approaching the top of the list of places I need to revisit soon. It might be near the middle of that list.. or middle to bottom. Not bad. Not great. It's "asi asi"

adj. hum·ble

Context is essential to understanding the language we choose to communicate. It is especially important when we are trying to be careful about what we say; to be truthful and accurate but to not cause pain to another. Some are gifted at this. They choose just the right words so their meaning and can be interpreted differently depending upon who, what or where they are being read or spoken. I have come to have a great distaste for the word (and use) of "semantics." I feel as if language is being used to manipulate a situation and in turn manipulate me.

This is not to say that I don't believe we have to be careful about how we say things to people. There is rarely any good reason to say things that hurt; honesty doesn't have to hurt. Tact is necessary and something I have come to appreciate more and more everyday. We can be quick to lash out, having a sharp tongue. But this exhibits a lack of control, an impulsion and recklessness that characterizes a disregard for the well-being of others. In those instances, we often don't really end up saying what we mean to say and fail to get across the message that we intend to share.

I had already been deliberating the use of the word "humble" as it related to this blog title when I was confronted with some troubling and unwanted communications.  When I chose the title of this blog, I never took much time to evaluate the use of the word "humble" in so common a phrase as "in my humble opinion." As I was returning to explore the definition and use of the word "humble," I find that it plays a different role when used in reference to the circumstances I found myself in today. My opinion and character have been called into question and bringing to light the alternate use of "humble" and a point of reference that changes it's meaning altogether.

Humble, per thefreedictionary.com, is defined as:

hum·ble  (hmbl)

adj. hum·bler, hum·blest

1. Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful.

2. Showing deferential or submissive respect: a humble apology.

3. Low in rank, quality, or station; unpretentious or lowly: a humble cottage.

tr.v. hum·bled, hum·bling, hum·bles

1. To curtail or destroy the pride of; humiliate.

2. To cause to be meek or modest in spirit.

3. To give a lower condition or station to; abase. See Synonyms at degrade.

So what do I make of these definitions and how they pertain to the title of this blog or, perhaps more importantly, how they pertain to me?  I would like to think that I am not arrogant or prideful and yet, neither am I meek. Meek has such a negative connotation; I associate it with someone who has no backbone.  This blog and ultimately the ideas I write about, I believe are more in tune with "showing deferential or submissive respect." What I write are my opinions and these writings are not intended to influence or judge. These are my rants and raves. I own them, I take responsibility for them, and they in turn help me work through my thoughts on the world and my life, defining my perspective on ideas at large.

I used this word almost as a disclaimer that the opinions expressed here are my own. They are not meant to undermine other perspectives or ideas. If anything, I like to think that even though I do have opinions, I am an open-minded person who is interested in other people's perspectives (in most circumstances) and will listen to ones thoughts, rants and raves. Quite unexpectedly, I was called upon to listen to a rant of sorts this week. A virtual stranger voicing their thoughts and ideas, ultimately looking for me to either validate them with my own similarities or at least offer insights into my own experiences. I was guarded, I admit, though I was completely honest. I didn't back down from the truth of my situation, I expressed concerns about my OWN situation, not theirs, and I never once tried to 'one-up'. Trust me, there was no positive side to being the person who could rant the most or give the most excruciating detail of a particularly painful memory. We were both struggling. And in that struggling, we connected in a most unexpected way. Not to say we were instant friends; people who are hurt tend to put up their guard. I even openly questioned her motive for contacting me after which I felt badly that I could have even suggested there was any malice or ill-will intended. I felt guilty for thinking she might be entirely self-serving after I was assured it was anything but that.

Alas, matters of the heart cause us to make decisions that are sometimes completely irrational. I know that I have certainly fallen (or fall) prey to this. My heart leads my head, and there is no doubt that I struggle everyday to rationalize my emotions when they just don't make sense in light of the facts. This, I thought, was the conclusion that the person I spoke with reached as well especially since she was advising me to get serious and get over my situation. That things were not worth the suffering. That we shouldn't accept being put in these positions. She even feared for her safety at times -something I have never felt. And yet..

Today, whether it was her broken heart abruptly trying to discredit our conversation or her defenses just acting out against me so that she could deny her gut once again, I was made out to be an unstable person. I was painted to be a woman whose decisions were not reliable, whose motives were questionable, and whose mindset was irrational. It was humbled.. I was "given a lower condition." I was "humiliated." My character and my sense of self was attacked so they could feel better about themselves and their situation. Once again, her heart could not accept the truths that lay before her in bright neon lights - she had to bring me down to pick herself back up. And finally, I found myself getting angry.

At no point over the course of the past 5 months, year, or even four years, have I deliberately caused harm and pain to another person. I have not been malicious or conniving in my attempts to work through what are some of the MOST difficult situations I have struggled with. Ever. My world, upside down and flipped over, was always my world and never once did I ever purposefully reach out to turn over another person's world so I could have a companion in misery. Is it not a desperate person who has to reach out and drown the person next to them to survive? Tread water.. learn to swim. But don't take someone else down with you or instead of you. I am not vindictive, and I am baffled by those who speak so kindly and sweetly when you're able to relate but as soon as they perceive any threat, they panic. The claws come out and thinking themselves "strong," they are the ones who display weakness.

I never claimed to be impenetrably strong. I don't think I am weak either. I am treading water. In my opinion, I am humble. But I am not meek. I am not of a lower station. And I will not tolerate being humiliated.