Winter Visitors

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The first real coating of snow that lasted a few days fell in Chesterville over this Thanksgiving weekend. The old farmhouse, even with its K1 heaters, fireplaces and cast-iron stoves, can feel a little drafty in the middle of a windy storm. With a new delivery of kerosene and a full tank of propane for the stove, we're as ready as we can be for another Maine winter.

Thanksgiving Memories...

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Thanksgiving is upon us. Another year has gone by and the holiday season is here. Catalogs and fliers stuff the mailbox and immediately fill the recycling bin. This year Christmas sales seem to have begun before Halloween. The recent cold and wind and stormy weather around here just reminds you real winter is coming.

Apples from the Library Window

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NOW CLOSE THE WINDOWS

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
     If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
     Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
     It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
     But see all wind-stirred.

                       Robert Frost, 1913.

The Dreaded Knotweed

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When my wife and I first moved to the farmhouse in Chesterville, winter was just setting in and the snow was beginning to fly. We didn't have a lot of time to look around the house to see what might grow here, while we were unpacking endless boxes.

Milking the Cats

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Growing up on a farm and then moving to an old farm house in Maine keeps you thinking in farmers' terms. "Milking the cats" is one of them. Now, before you get a bizarre image in your heads of tiny milk pails and scratching cats, let me explain.

Green Acres Redux

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I have a confession to make: sometimes I think I'm living through a bad remake of Green Acres. Why? Mainly because of my wife.

Hunting Season

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The sharp crack of the back-to-back rifle shots just after sunrise near the house nearly made me drop my first cup of coffee. I knew deer season had begun that morning, but it was unsettling to hear gun fire so close.

Harvest of Autumn Leaves

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Gathering Leaves

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight;
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

Robert Frost
August, 1923

The Pantry

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Autumn is here and the leaves are at their peak of fiery reds and muted yellows. The garden is in the clean-up stage, with beds to be turned and weeds still to be routed out. Nights have been turning colder, with the promise of frosts and snow to come. But we're ready for it as I have been storing away my harvest in a well-stocked pantry.

It's a Wonderful Life?

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We all remember the scene from the movie where the crash of '29 occurs and there's a run on the bank, and there's Jimmy Stewart using his own money to keep the bank afloat. And remember how he describes how one depositors' money isn't in the bank, but in his neighbors' homes? So, how did we end up right back in this mess when the message was so clear? Remember the other movie line we seemed to revel in recently? "Greed is good." Only for the greedy. Greed, yes. But a lot more.