Pet loss is an inevitable part of pet ownership. Unless you’re raising a tortoise, the chances that your pet will die before your life is over are almost 100 percent. I believe we are cursed with this trade-off: we get to have unconditional love from a creature and they accept our love in return, but it is a limited-time offer.
Well, it looks (and sounds) like the holiday season is upon us. I can tell by all the ads on TV. (I must say, I like the ones with the dogs and cats.)
Nothing reminds you of your illness more than when you’re limited by the things that you can no longer do and the places that you can no longer go. And nothing highlights those limitations more than the holidays.
So I’ve been doing a lot of eating over the past week. My sister is up from Fort Myers. She loves food almost as much as I, and eats almost as much. But she’s svelte. Life isn’t fair. Wendy claims she’s not a cook, but that may be a ploy to get me to decide on and prepare all the meals. She gets away with it, though, by doing the cleaning up and washing dishes.
Quilting as fine art: One might ordinarily think of quilting as a craft, a practical endeavor requiring skill that results in a useful handmade item: a nice, warm quilt. An additional practical angle of quiltmaking is that one can make use of bits and pieces of leftover fabric.
Whew! We made it to Election Day! I voted, and by the crowds of people, it looks like a huge turnout.
Last writing, I forgot to mention Halloween, my favorite holiday. I must have other things like the World Series on my mind. Anyway, this year I decorated mostly inside so that I would not have my creations destroyed by the weather. But by doing it this way, the only ones who got to see it were my neighbors across the street and me.
I’m in Prague this week, traveling with my adventurous adult daughter, K.J. Gormley. She’s an intrepid explorer, taking her job on the road across oceans and continents. (Did you catch her Chats with Champions from August about working remotely? If not, you can hear the entire chat available on Skidompha Library’s YouTube channel.) I have the privilege of tagging along on some of her adventures.
As I write this article late Monday afternoon, I can’t help but be excited that there are only about 24 more hours left of the horrible, negative political advertisements. If we only voted for the politicians that do not run negative ads, I think Angus King would be the only person voted for.
Last week my neighbor gave me a recipe for a steak-and-mushroom ale soup. It sounded like a perfect thing to cook during the expected nor’easter that we were being bombarded with warnings about on the weather stations.
Immersion in abstraction: I went to see the new “Abstraction” exhibit at River Arts in Damariscotta on opening day, Thursday, Oct. 25. I wanted to immerse myself in abstract works of art – nothing figurative, nothing obviously representing something from real life.
I remember a day at the cafeteria in college when we were served fried bologna for lunch. It was bad enough getting stuff like that in the high school cafeteria.
River Company one-acts: Last Wednesday, Oct. 17, I attended the dress rehearsal for the one-act plays that River Company is currently in the midst of staging in the Porter Meeting Hall at Skidompha Library in Damariscotta. “Trifles” and “Frankenstein,” directed by Ruth Monsell and Torie DeLisle, respectively, feature some well-known local names, such as Sumner Richards, Mitchell Wellman, and Joe Lugosch. Lugosch stars in both plays – as the county attorney in “Trifles” and as Victor Frankenstein in “Frankenstein.”
That’s pronounced crisp pie, not crispy, on the off chance you care.
It’s a combination of apple crisp and apple pie. Duh.
All about the 6-by-6: I popped into Kefauver Studio & Gallery in Damariscotta last Thursday, Oct. 11, hoping to find exactly what I did find: painter and gallery owner (and super nice guy) Will Kefauver and a whole lot of excellent art. I caught Kefauver while he was busy hanging the gallery’s new “6 x 6” show, set to open the following day. The show, as the name implies, features pieces that measure 6 inches by 6 inches – little squares of artistic goodness.