Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
JULY 4, 2025 – (Cont.) On Sunday, our last full day in Connecticut for this third annual June sojourn, we awoke to a short downpour. In the aftermath, the lingering mist over the cove teased our imaginations and distracted us quite effectively from the artificiality of the “real world” that dominates the news. Once we’d …
JUNE 16, 2025 – Today on I95 we crossed over the Connecticut River about two and a half miles north of where it empties into Long Island Sound, technically part of the Atlantic Ocean. As we hurtled along, I stole a glance at the broad river mouth and sealed the fleeting image in my memory …
JUNE 13, 2025 – (Cont.) On the occasion of Byron and Mylène’s wedding extravaganza at the Red Cabin in the year prior to Covid, I fixed up the Capri to entertain a host of guests from overseas who were staying with us before and after the Big Day. My favorite crew members were the Portuguese …
JUNE 12, 2025 – (Cont.) I never attended to the naming of the Bayliner—officially or unofficially. It was simply called the “power boat” to distinguish it from the Capri sailboat, as well as from the other watercraft in our growing fleet consisting of a paddleboat, two aluminum canoes and two kayaks[1]. The Bayliner served us …
JUNE 11, 2025 – (Cont.) With the family’s collective directive in hand (“rent a boat that we can use to water ski and tube behind and that’s comfortable to ride in”), I drove to M & M Rentals to make arrangements. They offered exactly what I figured would please the family—a 16-foot Bayliner runabout with …
JUNE 10, 2025 – (Cont.) On a weekend trip to the cabin the next spring, we spotted a boat for sale in front of a familiar battered country house on Highway 70 just east of Spooner 30 miles from Grindstone. It was a Ouchita (an alternate spelling of “Witchita”) rowboat with an eight-horse Mariner motor, …
JUNE 9, 2025 – (Cont.) Just after nightfall the hot, humid weather had transformed into the perfect storm. After putting the kids to bed, Beth and I sat down on the front porch to watch the meteorological sound and light show. A few minutes of crash–BANG was followed by gusts that stirred up the water …
JUNE 8, 2025 – (Cont.) A year after the Love Boat voyage, Beth and I were married—in the exact spot where we’d met . . . overlooking the great inland sea that is Grindstone Lake. In October 1989, our second son arrived, and soon thereafter, we bought the very cabin where I’d drifted toward after …
JUNE 7, 2025 – (Cont.) The next spring brought good fortune on the waterfront. Fred Moore, our friend and neighbor across the street, the inveterate entrepreneur who’d recently sold his successful business, had now become a distributor of “water bikes.” A couple of models were chained to an elm tree in the Moore’s front yard. …
JUNE 6, 2025 – (Cont.) For the next two summers, my time at the cabin was equally divided among four pursuits: practicing my violin, writing letters, reading articles in old Coronet magazines from the 1930s and 40s stored in various nooks and crannies around the cabin, and, of course . . . sailing the ocean …
JUNE 5, 2025 – (Cont.) At the cabin, Dad used the cabin mower in the same fashion he’d deployed the home mower: as a jerry-rigged dolly. Together we maneuvered the Fleetwind hull from the trailer to the west side of the cabin. He then attached an extended painter to the bow, and while he controlled …
JUNE 4, 2025 – (Cont.) Late in the afternoon, the big Sears delivery van pulled up to our house. Its two occupants hopped out, one holding some papers. I happened to be standing in the driveway, so I was able to vouch for the precious cargo in the hold of their ship . . . …
JUNE 3, 2025 – (Cont.) Beginning my sophomore year of high school, I transferred from Sterling School in the Green Mountain State to Interlochen Arts Academy, located in the wilds just south of Traverse City, Michigan. The campus lay between Duck Lake and Green Lake, each a sizable body of water conducive to small craft …
JUNE 2, 2025 – One aspect of aging I’ve observed is the increase in vicarious living. Back at the other end of my personal time scale, whatever was vicarious in reality remained theoretically possible within my imagination. Olympic gold, for example; becoming president of the United States, for another; or . . . sailing the …
JUNE 1, 2025 – This evening our son and granddaughter joined us for dinner, while “Mom” was working. Well into the proceedings when Illiana slipped away to fetch something, Beth summoned her back and issued a mild reprimand. “At school do you just get up and wander around the lunchroom when you’re finished but before …
MAY 25, 2025 – (Cont.) The hoarder’s grip as it pertains to lumber afflicted my dad in the same two-handed fashion that it applies to me. There was naturally and habitually, the whole matter of frugality. When other people observed this trait in Dad, they’d attribute it straight away to his having grown up during …
MAY 24, 2025 – (Cont.) My latest confrontation with lumber hoarding was precipitated by a sign . . . in the woods (where else?), more precisely, the upper reaches of the Björnholm tree garden. Not so many years ago, I’d fashioned a prominent “BJÖRNHOLM TRÄDGÅRD” [“tree garden” in Swedish] sign painted on wood, mounted on …
MAY 23, 2025 – My ancestors had a special relationship with stuff. For details, see my memoir (Inheritance), published here in a long series across the several month, mid-year 2023. A less charitable way of putting it is that several people up the chain (“tree”?) were . . . and if I include myself, are …
MAY 21, 2025 – Time. If you stop it long enough to examine it, you’ll see it as an interesting conceptual sculpture. The overall construct is a paradox: time is at once long and short; near and far; uniquely perceived by every individual, yet a common feature of our humanity; intangible in the moment but …
MAY 12, 2025 – Publishing a book is not a casual undertaking. Writing the darned thing isn’t even the half of it. In the case of the all the histories I read, a vast amount of scholarship precedes the drafting. Before delving into each book, I check out the author’s bibliography, which reflects what kind …
MAY 3, 2025 – THE PADDLEBOAT (Cont.) Wednesday at noon, I told Jeff we’d need to start packing up no later than three o’clock. The plan was to arrive home in time for a late supper, visit with Beth and my sister Jenny for a while, then retire by ten or eleven o’clock. We’d set …
APRIL 22, 2025 – I remember the first Earth Day—this day in 1970. I was in my sophomore year of high school at Interlochen Arts Academy, parked in the wilds of the northwest part of Michigan’s lower peninsula, 15 miles south of Traverse City. Across the highway that ran past the entrance to our campus …
APRIL 12, 2025 – (Cont.) Although Maine borders Canada, during my four years at Bowdoin, the closest I’d gotten to the country to the north was knowing two of its citizens, Mike R. and Bernie G.[1] Both were star players on our Division III championship hockey team in addition to being excellent students and all …
APRIL 11, 2025 – (Cont.) Yet another bash—my swan song—was what I dubbed, the “2001 Party”—anticipating the distant year of our 25th reunion. If in high school George Orwell’s book, 1984, applied to the distant future, in 1976, the year of my college class, the start of the next millennium seemed to be so far …
APRIL 10, 2025 – (Cont.) To draw as many people as possible to campus wide events, I developed party themes, gimmicks, and special attractions. The “Harvest Moon Dance,” for example, featured classmate Jerry Bryant and his Bowdoin Swing Orchestra. For the Halloween masquerade party, I retained another popular student band, Plateful of Food—and sponsored a …