“The Modern Milkman”

~ Elizabeth ~ 19 Comments
Just for Halloween

We know that if we wait long enough clothing and music will come back around. Of course I have already given the old things away by the time “long enough” arrives. But to my amazement several months ago we received a mail flyer introducing us to The Modern Milkman. I had been somewhat envious of a fellow blogger who still had milk delivered to his door. Now I might be able to do the same.

A local dairy started an old business with a new twist. Promising glass bottles brought once a week it also had the insight to make other products available with delivery. Knowing the popularity of “buying local” they also bring chips, salsa, cheese, eggs, bagels, dips and cookies with their service. All these add-ons are made by small companies near by, helping to grow their businesses with local customers. While standard milk products are always on the menu, the other items vary week to week with the varieties published several days earlier. Bagels might be blueberry one week and sesame the next, but I can always choose just the ones we like. In addition each week there are special add-ons, such as a pie at Christmas or chocolates for Valentine’s Day.

Among the quirks lingering from my childhood is the fear of no milk in the morning. Logical: no. Still present: yes. The Modern Milkman delivers on its promises. We NEVER run out of milk!

”What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?”

~ Elizabeth ~ 21 Comments

The last few months seem to have filled with endless clouds and torrential rains. It rained 15 out of 16 summer weekends. It flooded again in the fall. The month of January came in fifth in total rainfall since 1905. When we moved from the Pacific Northwest where clouds and rain are typical, we enjoyed the frequent blue skies here. But recently I have remembered the grouch constant gray brings out in me!

Much to my surprise when I went out to the car this morning I spied a strange object in the sky. I took a photo to prove that I was not imagining things. It not only glowed, it seemed to reveal shades of blue near by. I am glad I kept the picture. Within an hour it had moved on, taking any tinge of blue with it.

”Not Edible!”

~ Elizabeth ~ 25 Comments

As I was replacing a shoelace in my tennis shoe I reflected on the times Zoe would chase me around snapping at my shoelaces, tempting targets. She has moved on to greener pastures and now has an appetite for eyeglasses and pens. After replacing three pair of glasses I finally established the habit of placing them on the mantlepiece whenever I don’t need them to read. Pens have proved a more challenging target. If I set one down in a distracted moment, the next sound I hear is of crunching plastic. The time I have to grab the remnant before she frees the ink cartridge is crucial! Thankfully she isn’t interested in consuming any of these items, preferring to destroy them.

Each of our dogs seemed to have different favorite chew targets. One went for leather, chomping on the Bible cover. Another was fascinated with cords and especially liked out of the way ones under beds. One dog remained fixated on rodent poop despite our constant scoldings. Fortunately all of them have been quick to snarf up any bits that fall to the floor while we are cooking. Except for mushrooms. Somehow they all have drawn the line on mushrooms!

”Hello Again”

~ Elizabeth ~ 32 Comments

Zoe turned one and reluctantly posed for this portrait. She never sits still, so the photo shows her in a rare moment of calm.

I intended to return to posting early in the month, but right after the funeral it snowed 8 inches. Charlie dutifully cleared it all day only to realize that he had Covid. Then I came down with it several days later. I had avoided the virus for four years, but it finally caught up with me. I am just beginning to catch up with delayed tasks including taking a very shaggy dog to the groomer.

I have missed connecting through our posts and hope to be back writing on a regular schedule again.

”and a Time to Mourn”

~ Elizabeth ~ 15 Comments

The last several weeks I have been away from this writing as a dear family member unexpectedly rapidly declined and then died on New Years’ Eve. Because he was out of state it meant much juggling of responsibilities here and there.

The wake is today, the funeral tomorrow. I wish you all a good new year and I will be back writing very soon.

”Neighborly Love?”

~ Elizabeth ~ 25 Comments

The neighbor to our south cleared out a few trees a couple of years ago but for some reason left this dead one standing. All it would take would be a strong wind from the south and it would tumble. The wind came last night and the dead tree fell ungracefully over taking one six foot section of our fence and one long support beam of the grape arbor with it.

The rain abated long enough for Charlie to cut up the branches and the trunk and unceremoniously return them to their home. He has put up a temporary fencing so Zoe can’t escape. We haven’t seen the neighbor so we don’t know if she realizes we are also keeping her dog in her own yard. Thus far she has benefited from our fence, not needing one of her own.

Sadly we had never asked her to take down the tree so we are responsible for repairing the damage on our side. Apparently that was the last dead tree on our fence line, so the fence once repaired should stay erect. I am just grateful that the dead ones which formerly abutted our fence line were gone. They would have done significant damage to the blueberry structure.

May the rest of you stay dry and calm as we hope to. At least it hadn’t snowed!

”What’s Pickleball Anyway?”

~ Elizabeth ~ 21 Comments

The latest craze to hit here is pickleball. It appears to be the aging baby boomers’ answer to the hula hoop fad of our youth. Everyone MUST play pickleball. Towns(including ours) must convert tennis courts to pickleball courts or turn lovely open fields(the adjacent town) to pickleball courts. Realizing that it snows or ices over in New England for several months of the year the rush is on to convert abandoned malls into pickleball courts. In our town the tennis club applied for and was granted a zone amendment to add pickleball to their indoor courts.

Pickleball has proved a bonanza for orthopedists, sending countless seniors(86% of emergency room pickleball injuries were to seniors) to the hospital with injuries including partial and complete ruptures of Achilles tendons, plantar fasciitis, ankle sprains, and various foot and ankle fractures.

Noise complaints are rampant among the neighbors of pickleball who say that the noise is not just loud. Apparently the high pitch of the noise of plastic ball on paddle is irritating in a way that the quieter thump of the tennis ball is not. (Of course people next to tennis courts and basketball hoops are sometimes annoyed too.)

I have no interest in taking up the activity. I am amused, however, watching some men play pickleball with the intensity that resembles squash. The game is much less rigorous than that, but they may not be able to help themselves!

Is this a worldwide trend or is the United States alone in pickleball insanity?

”Novel Treatment”

~ Elizabeth ~ 13 Comments

Throughout the United States and Canada Native American children were, until relatively recently, taken from their families at a very young age and sent to boarding schools. The premise held that such children needed to be acculturated into the “mainstream” and not hold onto hairstyles, dress or beliefs from their indigenous past. Needless to say this produced devastating trauma for children and families alike. Only recently have governments and churches acknowledged their responsibility for the damage done.

The 2023 novel The Berry Pickers does not explicitly deal with this practice. The story itself is compelling and a reader might never connect the plot with the larger issue of taking children from their families in the historical pattern I mention. Here a four year old Mi’kmaq girl from Canada disappears from her family while picking blueberries in Maine. For fifty years neither she nor her family know or understand what happened to her.

Without divulging the plot I can say that she is essentially erased and recreated during those years. Eventually both she and her birth family must reckon with the long lasting separation. And if you, like I, are reading the novel on two levels as both plot and a metaphor for history, you may truly grasp the impact of such ruptures. The book is a best seller here and certainly stands alone as a touching novel. I hope, though, that others may make the connection I have and may ponder the damage we often produce with “good intentions.”