Archive | August, 2013

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On steering away from shore

The end of summer is approaching. Technically we have until September 22nd before the Autumnal Equinox. Practically speaking, on the coast of Maine summer ends in the middle of Labor Day weekend. The town is quiet. Eighty percent of the summer jerks [Ed. note: aka “people” but I let it go. – Debbie] are gone. By […]

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Poetry, place and a quiet summer evening

If you asked me how many poetry readings I’ve attended in Washington DC over the past three decades, I would be hard pressed to come up with a handful. Surely, you say, DC has so much going on there must be poetry readings and live performances every night of the week. But that is precisely […]

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Bombast, swagger and lobster boats

It’s 0530h. West Penobscot Bay is throbbing with the sound of diesel motors, thousands of horsepower under the decks of hundreds of lobster boats. The sun has been up for twenty minutes. By now, many of the lobstermen have been hauling traps for two hours. I have an appointment to take the gasman to the […]

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Gap Year metrics: how to fit it all in

Andy*, this one is for you, but you have to read to the end to get the rant. It has been about two weeks since I returned to Maine from visiting my father in Milwaukee. This is peak summer vacation time and, indeed, that is what I have used it for. A Gap Year principle […]

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Grog_E_RA_Aug2013

Life on an island: water, rocks, high tide, repeat

One of the surprising things so far about our Gap Year is what I’m learning about Sam, my husband of 40 years. The most surprising thing, of course, is that there are surprises. I knew he was a good writer, for example. But I didn’t realize how good until I started editing his posts. He […]

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Grog_4_Aug2013

Life on an island: an annual hard reset

There is nothing like your own island. It’s a private island but we’re not talking Richard Branson’s Necker. We have spent the last week on a single-family eight-acre island off the coast of Maine. In other words, it’s a piece of property that happens to have water around it. We timeshare it with other family members. […]

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Embracing a new sense of time: slow but luxurious

I recently returned from another week with my 92-year-old father. It was very pleasant and very quiet. The humidifier hums. The doors creak. The clocks tick. There is the occasional chime of the doorbell. His world is shrinking around him and he knows it. It is hard to watch. It is frustrating. But people learn […]

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