Rant

It is often said that summers in Lincoln are peaceful. People are away, there is less traffic, beautiful farm fields, quiet evenings. You have the place to yourself.

Not so. Lincoln is one big construction site. Last summer our neighbors put in a large flagstone terrace with stone steps cascading down to a play yard for their kids. They had an in ground sprinkler system installed. The sound of backhoes and cutting stone lasted for months. Now as their little girls dance merrily down the wide stone steps to their swing set which is surrounded by mechanically watered plants, our neighbors up the hill are installing terrace all around their house and a new driveway, edged with cobblestones.

The machinery used is way out of scale for the project. In the old days, Italian stone masons lay each slab of stone by hand with pride. A wheel barrow and shovel were all that were needed. Now backhoes beep and workers yell over the sound of the diesel engine. As for the diesel engine, a layer of exhaust fumes hovers over the house next door. Even on Saturday.

On the other side of our place, I hear the whirr of weed wackers obliterating any random plant that might not fit the manicured setting. On Weston Road, our tax dollars are paying for a strange machine that has an arm on one side that tears off the tops of whatever is growing, leaving hacked off limbs and brush. A brush hog.

Two bridges are being rebuilt over the historic Sudbury River which we cross every time we drive to our neighboring town of Concord. The road is being ripped up also and water mains replaced. A quick trip to the store has to be carefully planned on back roads to get there in a reasonable amount of time avoiding the constuction crews who spend most of their time leaning on shovels and talking while we wait.

So much improvement on all sides. I’ll admit that one summer we replaced one side of our foundation wall. It was loud...for a week. Now the only sounds you will hear on our two acre lot is the sound of laundry drying in the sun or my stealth electric car easing up the driveway. And the occasional call of the wild when Calley spies the mail truck.

What has happened to quiet? How far away do we have to go to be free of the noise of progress? Distant hammering blends in with the crickets. The continuous noise of the backhoe shatters my nerves. And soon it will be fall. Time for leaf blowers.

driving

One of these things is not like the other

One of these things just doesn't belong.
Can you find which one is not like the other
By the time I finish this song?

(did you watch Sesame Street?)

Indian country

Barb, I had to pull over specially for this. Hope you like it.
Wyoming, on the Wind River reservation this morning.
Eastern Shoshone sector.
From Donny, our man in the field.

I'm grateful for a glimpse of sun, even if it's all the way out in Wyoming.
My clothesline has gotten no use this week.
Unsettled weather on the east coast.
Thunder, Lightning, Rain.

accomplished laundress in Costa Rica

I hope it doesn't rain! The thing about laundry in Costa Rica is that for 6 months it is so dry that the laundry dries in a second. For the other six it never dries, it molds and hangs for days waiting for the rain to go away and the air to dry out...really challenging even for rayon clothes...but forget about jeans!
From Ruth; former Head of School, Costa Rica Day School in Guanacaste.

more passive solar

text message on my cell phone

"whoa nelly! Just packed almost 80 lbs in 70 mph winds and rain. Off to bed now. This job is intense! But that is old news." Eliza

Two days after David and I left, the weather came in with lightning and wind and rain. A hiker sprained her ankle on the trail during the storm and members of the croo had to rescue her! They carried her on a stretcher to the top of Mt. W. where she was picked up.

woman in charge

We visited Eliza at Lakes of the Clouds, an AMC hut where she and her "croo" cook and serve dinner and breakfast for 90 guests every day. She is the Assistant Hut Master this summer. The hike up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail took us two hours and ten minutes although Eliza and her croo do it in about one hour. It is a beautiful trail with waterfalls and crystal clear pools along the way. The croo pack out trash and bring in supplies twice a week from the summit of Mt. Washington which is about a mile and a half away. It is an exposed trail above tree line and more often than not it is very windy and sometimes raining.
Here is Eliza talking to the guests before serving dinner.



We were so lucky to have Eliza hike up with us. She was returning from her days off, so we got to have her company all the way up the mountain. The time flew as we talked. Note the waterfall behind the happy hikers.



One of the perks of knowing a croo member is being allowed to climb up on the roof and watch the sunset. It was spectacular when we were there and we felt really lucky to see it. A completely clear night is rare. It's not called Lakes in the Clouds for nothing!!


Time to say good bye.



The trail lead us away from Lakes and up Mt. Munroe. I took one last look at Eliza's mountain home before heading out of sight. The hut is on the left and one of the lakes on the right. Behind it is Mt. Washington.



Although I'd heard about the hut system in the White Mountains for years, I'd never been to one. I have always been really intimidated by the challenge of hiking in "the Presidentials". With Eliza up there, we were inspired to climb the mountain to see her. To get myself in a good mindset, I looked to Buddhist teachings. There is a saying, "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." That's all you have to do to get up a mountain; just take one step and then another. It's a metaphor for life, too. And boy is the view worth it! I was actually sad to come down off the mountain. When the trail dips below tree line and you smell the familiar evergreens and feel mud underfoot, there's a tinge of sadness. You're leaving the realm of the gods and joining the mortal world once again.

Seeds of Peace International Camp

David and I visited Carrie at Seeds of Peace in Otisfield, Maine.
The state trooper who checked us in, stationed at the gated entrance was a visual reminder that this is not just any summer camp. There is radical work going on under the pines.
To see the pairs of 13 -15 year old teens from conflicting countries and cultures navigate the high ropes course together, each depending on the other to get to the top was very moving.
When they got to the top and everyone below cheered, they sang out, laughing... "I am a seed of peace, yeah!!"
I do believe that the hope for our future is with the youth of the world!


Carrie with dialogue facilitators from Israel and Palestine.


From the web site:
Set in the woods of Maine beside a lake, Seeds of Peace International Camp is worlds away from the daily scenes of bloodshed. The Camp provides an escape from the explosive rage and violence spilling over in the Middle East and South Asia. This neutral, supportive setting makes it possible for hundreds of young leaders from both sides of major conflicts to meet their enemies face-to-face, often for the first time in their lives. Here they confront their hatreds and deep-seated fears and tackle the issues that fuel the conflict back at home.

The 3 week conflict resolution program is designed to open young minds to the possibility of a new reality. Every aspect of the program fosters trust, challenges assumptions and narrows the psychological distance between the participants. The program’s intensity is deliberate. Each Seed shares a bunk with the very people they have been conditioned to hate. Athletic, artistic and cultural activities scheduled throughout the days deepen the bonds between Seeds. Daily dialogue sessions form the center of the program. During hours of discussion, conducted by professional facilitators, they are forced to confront their differences. By the end of the program each Seed has achieved a new threshold for tolerating ideas and understanding perspectives that were once beyond comprehension.

Each year, Seeds of Peace welcomes nearly 350 Afghan, American, Egyptian, Indian, Israeli, Jordanian, Pakistani and Palestinian participants to the camp. These young leaders are chosen by their governments, schools or other community organizations in their home countries after a very competitive application and interview process..

What you have all been waiting for!

Great Aunt Barb meets baby Margaret at last!





and some other people were there, too.

immortality continued

Martha Lamb McLean 1916-1989

Today is Mom's birthday.
She was born in July and I remember birthday parties at the Hemlocks looking across the lake to Owl's Head, gin and tonics in hand.
Unc would make the escargots and assorted other gourmet delicacies serving with a broad smile and the warmest of hugs.

In later years, we often celebrated Mom's birthday with her right here in Lincoln. The day lilies were at their peak. I remember her pushing 5 year old Carrie on the swing and holding baby Eliza. And of course, admiring the bright orange day lilies in all their splendor.

The above photo shows the lilies as they look today just as they did 21 years ago. They are in front of the dogwood tree that mom brought us as a tiny seedling.

What is immortality but being kept alive in the memories and gardens of future generations?
Happy Birthday, Mom. Thanks for everything.

9 months

colors

notes from the field

This just in from Donny. A field outside Boulder Colorado.
A western version of the farm field in my earlier post.

sun!

I sent my kids to college and all I got.....

truck

Clothes Line Part One

It may appear to all of you readers that we are indeed the Hillbillies we profess to be.
In fact, the clothes line is right up there with compact florescent light bulbs.
It is part of the solution that will free us from dependence on foreign oil.
So this week, here on Moccasin Hill, we graduated from a sagging rope between two trees to the real thing.
David was incredibly kind to use his first day of summer vacation on my request.
But then again, the price of oil is going up! We could save some money here!



The Plan. The designer checks with the client to gather all the specs and finalizes the drawing.


Digging the holes. Where we live, every time you put a shovel in the ground you hit a rock. This was no exception.


Carpenter's rule: Measure twice, cut once.



Putting it all together.

Stay tuned for Part Two tomorrow.
The rope and
our wet clothes
Hope for sun.

PS By popular demand, here are two formally undisclosed photos of DAVID ON THE LADDER! One had been up and then taken down, but blog expert John caught it before it disappeared (see comments). So here it is back along with a new photo, NEVER before seen on this or any other blog. enjoy.
and yes, the clothesline could also be used as a swing set when M comes to visit!