The Hunter and I went exploring a new patch of woods the other day. Perhaps exploring is not quite the right word. Exploring implies direction and urgency. I should say that The Hunter and I went wandering in a new patch of woods. It was a delightful patch, too, with easily negotiable paths, unexpected brooks and lots and lots of stonewalls. Quintessential New England. (more…)
The J. Peterman Company catalog arrived in the mail today. Looking through it, I get the impression that I am both, at one and the same time, The Target Market and Not The Target Market. Quite a feat to pull this off, I think.
There is nothing at all of the real world in the way this catalog features the men’s and women’s clothing it sells. That
alone makes me super qualified to be on the mailing list. To begin with, there are no photos that might lend a dreary sense of practicality and 9-5-ness; just dreamy, watercolor illustrations – reminiscent either of a designer’s idea board or one of those charming travel journals / sketch books that look so easy and appealing when tossed off by intrepid Edwardian explorers. (more…)
There is an epilogue to yesterday’s turkey observations.
An unfortunate six inches of April snow sent The Hunter out to clean off his truck. Over the past few weeks, when the turkeys have been in residence, they have watched as people have gone in and out of the house and yard. The Toms and their harem would stop and look at what was happening, and then continue about their own business. This morning, however, they took exception. Perhaps they had read the blog. Perhaps they realized The Hunter had designs upon them. Perhaps they were just being turkeys with very little brain. (more…)
The Hunter is interested in all wildlife. Whatever shows up in the woods or in the fields or on the lawn is always of interest. With turkey season just three weeks away, he is especially interested just now in what the wild turkeys are doing.
He has been watching one jake (an immature male) round up his harem in anticipation of Young Love in the Spring Time. (more…)
I need a toaster oven that won’t send the rice cakes up in flames the minute my back is turned. When I told The Hunter how, once again, before I’d even had a calming cup of morning tea, I had to shovel yet another blackened, flaming rice cake into the sink, he sighed. And wondered why I couldn’t simply toast “normal” bread like “normal” people. (The Hunter, while completely at home and fearless in the wilderness or off-shore, tends to get a little skittish around things (more…)
When I started high school my mother said: “You are going to college, but because you don’t know what the future holds, you are also going to learn how to support yourself. Therefore, you are going to take typing and shorthand.” (more…)
I’ve been watching the birds at the feeder out the dining room window. Before this particular feeder, which hangs from the house, and can be filled merely by opening the window, I had tried others. These others were all out in the back yard, visible, but not reachable from the house, so I had to go outside to fill them up. This fill up did not happen as often as it should have. It did not happen when I had to pull on boots and wade through snow. It did not happen when I had to put on a coat because it was -4. And it did not happen in warmer weather when the grass was wet with the dew and I only had on slippers. In short, because at the time I bought the first feeders I did not know my limitations (anything that required effort), I was a crap bird whisperer. (more…)
When we were in grad school, Suzanne and I used to talk about how hard it was to be Irish. You might have thought that we would obsess more about the difficulty of going to grad school in our 30s while looking after small children. But no, we were obsessed with the Irish question. Our (more…)
Leaving The Hunter – who hates long flights – at home to do all the kinds of things that hunters do, I recently hopped the pond to enjoy a spot of grandmothering. There are many benefits to doing this, not the least of which is a huge arrears to be made up in the hugs and kisses department. Another benefit, but way down on the list, is that I thought I could leave the political climate behind, at least for a while. (more…)
The scene: I am bent over the table with my glasses off – the better to see with – and my nose in a book of maps trying to trace a route. Why is it that no matter what I am looking for on a map, it is always in the spine or spilling off the edge. Never, ever can I remember my destination being smack in the middle of the page, clearly laid out and with lots of unobstructed detail. Never.
The Son walks up behind me and says: “You know, they make an app for that.”