Remember Me

The poem today is dedicated to my husband Everett. I can hear him reading the lines in my mind . He was my vase for the bouquets I created. When I wanted to photograph one, a bouquet turned out better if he held them in his hands. I miss my favorite vase JEJ every day.

Remember Me

by Anthony Dowson

Speak of me as you have always done.
Remember the good times, laughter, and fun.

Share the happy memories we've made.
Do not let them wither or fade.

I'll be with you in the summer's sun
And when the winter's chill has come.

I'll be the voice that whispers in the breeze.
I'm peaceful now, put your mind at ease.

I've rested my eyes and gone to sleep,
But memories we've shared are yours to keep.

Sometimes our final days may be a test,
But remember me when I was at my best.

Although things may not be the same,
Don't be afraid to use my name.

Let your sorrow last for just a while.
Comfort each other and try to smile.

I've lived a life filled with joy and fun.
Live on now, make me proud of what you'll become.

I Found the Lost Kitchen and the Woman from Freedom

A couple of years ago I discovered Erin French. Erin runs a restaurant in Freedom, Maine from late spring to fall each year.  She had to make some very creative adjustments during the pandemic. Joanna and Chip Gaines learned about her and their network has produced two seasons of an amazing show called "Finding Freedom" for the Magnolia Network on Discovery+. I first learned about her in an article online, discovered her cookbook, stumbled upon her series, then purchased her memoir. She is resilient, creative, and very hard working. 

She isn't a trained chef. She grew up learning to cook at her dad's diner in Freedom. She is a recovering addict and decided she needed to move forward and do what she did best... cook. It is working. She surrounds herself in her restaurant with a staff of woman friends that have no formal chef training. Her mom was put in charge of the wine. Her husband builds fires, creates cabins, and a bit of everything else. She sources all her food, flowers, pottery, and whatever else from local farms, fishermen, potters, and other local artisans.

She has inspired me so much. Last week I saw her on Ina Garten's new show "Be My Guest" and she shared her experiences and prepared one of her favorite recipes, Dad's Meatloaf. It was a popular item on the menu at his diner. Last night I prepared this recipe for our weekly Family Dinner. It was so delicious. I couldn't pick wildflowers from a Maine field or have fresh herbs from a local farmstand, but the meatloaf was enough for me. 

https://www.findthelostkitchen.com

You can just google her name and spend hours learning about this woman and all she has done for her workers, family, and the people of Freedom, Maine. It is a good story. Check out her series, find her on social media, find her cookbook, or read her memoir. You will find them all worth your time. The restaurant serves dinner four days a week. Since it is so popular they have a unique reservation system. You mail in a postcard in early spring and it is a luck-of-the-draw.

“I wanted to serve; I wanted to entertain and host; I wanted to take in strangers and feed them my love on a plate. As a woman, I felt a most innate joy in caring for people. Something that felt so natural to me, something that I craved to do.”
― Erin French, Finding Freedom: A Cook's Story; Remaking a Life from Scratch

My goal in the next few years is to send in a postcard in the spring, hope to get drawn out, and go see this special place. I have always wanted to go to Maine.

Here is the link to the meatloaf recipe:

https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/dads-meatloaf-12434737

Happy Sibling Day to My Sibs, " We Came Together"

Easter at 516

This poem is a perfect choice for National Sibling Day. It reminds me of when families get together and share stories.  The line I love is "it pulls around us like a drawstring, that time, when we come together." This often happens with us now when we get together for our weekly family dinner. Also, enjoy a collection of sibling photos. 

Eagle watching at Beauty Bay

All

all he would have to say is,

remember the time I came home

with a beard and Dad didn’t know me,

and we would all laugh,

Mom would say, just by your voice,

I knew your voice, and my sister

would say, the dog kept barking, and

I would say, that was the

summer I got a camera.

it pulls around us

like a drawstring, that time,

when we come together,

awkward and older,

our frayed conversations

trying to thread some memory

of each other,

one of us will only have to say,

remember the time you came home

from the bush with your beard,

and we were all easy again

with each other,

some will say how

Mom knew his voice, someone

will remember how the dog barked, I

will remember my new camera,

and we are a family again,

young and laughing on the front porch.

-Leona Gom 

At Grandma Woolum's yard with CheeChee

With us we remember the time Bill took Carol down the escalator at The Crescent in Northtown in her stroller.

We remember the time Uncle Jack jumped out from behind the couch in our living room.

We remember when Carol decided to shave and when she decided to cut her bangs.

We remember Dad spending eight hours in the kitchen making Tom and Jerry batter before Christmas and we were banned from the room.

We remember the time Bill and I were cleaning the garage and he cut his foot on a broken pop bottle.

We remember when Carol was born and we hiked up the trail to the hospital so we could see her in the nursery .

dinner at Carol's

We remember how we came together . 

We came together with Mom to help Dad during his last weeks of life. 

We came together when Mom had cancer. 

We came together with Mom when Bill had meningitis. 

We came together to cheer and support Carol many times when she performed on the stage. 

together at Auntie Lila's funeral

We came together during the last part of Mom's life when she needed more help. 

We came together when Mom transitioned to the rehab place across the street and did all we could to make her last time on earth as comfortable as possible.  

We came together when my husband Everett died. 

We had words that always made us laugh when posing for a picture. Here I believe we said, "Uncle D".

 

"it pulls around us like a drawstring, that time, when we came together."

The Reorganization Project

 

I have been working for weeks decluttering, reorganizing, moving things in the house, hauling things away,  and trying to find things. I hoped to get this project done before it was time to move outside to garden. I haven't gotten done yet, but it snowed today so I tackled another closet and some organizing cubes since it was too cold to garden. 

When it takes you an hour to find where you put that important document from the IRS, you know it is that time to regroup and reorganize. When you find the bag of stuff  to donate from last fall, you know it is time to go to a donation place. 

So that is what I have been doing....slowly, a bit at a time until it it time to rest. This reorganizing is tough work. It is emotional ( Do I keep it?). It is physical ( Can I move this whole box of books by myself?).  It is mentally draining ( what is the year on this tax statement?) It is satisfying ( Oh look, all the spices are now in the same place!). It is also annoying ( Didn't I just file these papers three hours ago?)

If the weather stays cold and it continues to snow I may get the whole project done! Decluttering the gardens will be much more fun. Sigh.

Hope

 

It is hard to completely turn off the images, the words, and the emotions of the war that continues to rage across the ocean. Today I took a nature walk and prayed and thought about hope. I hold hope in my heart. It calmed me a bit.

Hope     

   
It hovers in dark corners
before the lights are turned on,  
it shakes sleep from its eyes  
and drops from mushroom gills,  
it explodes in the starry heads  
of dandelions turned sages,  
it sticks to the wings of green angels  
that sail from the tops of maples.    
It sprouts in each occluded eye  
of the many-eyed potato,  
it lives in each earthworm segment  
surviving cruelty,  
it is the motion that runs the tail of a dog,  
it is the mouth that inflates the lungs  
of the child that has just been born.    
It is the singular gift  
we cannot destroy in ourselves,  
the argument that refutes death,  
the genius that invents the future,  
all we know of God.    
It is the serum which makes us swear  
not to betray one another;  
it is in this poem, trying to speak.    
   
Lisel Mueller

"The Wind" , Another Bedtime Poem Read by Mom

 

Today the wind blew, the rain fell, and we even had hail and snow. As I was sitting in front of the fire with my dog Riley and a hot cup of coffee I remembered another poem Mom read to us at bedtime. She had an old. old copy of  A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Lewis Stevenson that contained the poem below. I still have the book. When I was young I don't remember a lot of wind in Kellogg and I never got to fly a kite, but I still loved this poem and the black and while illustration above. This is another selection to honor National Poetry Month.

The Wind

Poet: Robert Louis Stevenson

I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!