And here comes June, damply

Rain, rain and more rain for days on end, since returning from away.  Thankfully both my drive to CT and back were uneventful - although the trip provided plenty of stress.

I made all my medical appointments and received a good report from my annual CT scan.  Work amounted to meeting following meeting.  But more important was the news that our dear friend, Danny, passed away on Tuesday evening.  He'd been in hospice only since Sunday.  Thankfully his family was all around him, including the 2 of his 4 daughters who live in Israel, who arrived on Monday morning and had time with him.  Danny had been suffering for so long with acute pancreatitis - 10 years total but most especially the last 2 years.  Helen and I drove to NY on Wednesday to attend the funeral that afternoon - which was incredibly moving.  I'm not sure I've ever attended a funeral where the deceased person's presence felt so ... present.  This was mostly because Danny's son-in-law and daughter both spoke from the heart at length about Danny, in Jeff's case actually conveying Danny's own final thoughts and wishes discussed at his bedside only hours earlier.  We cried, we laughed, and we cried some more.  A tribute to a kind, smart, curious, learned, funny man so beloved by family and friends.

Then we came back to CT and I came home on Thursday morning.

All in all, while so grateful for my own good medical news, and thankful for the easy drives down and back, as well as to NY and back, and so good to see Helen and spend time with her, and of course also grateful to be able to drive with Helen to NY to be with Danny's family - it was a very sad few days.

I came home and the heavens above us here in midcoast Maine seemed to mourn Danny along with us down below.  Rain and more rain.  Finally yesterday the sun came out, blue skies, white clouds, brisk breeze.  And again today.

Yesterday I mowed the back yard grass, trimmed the weeds the mower missed, cut out some honeysuckle vine from where it threatened to go exploring (and apparently to take over), washed a bird feeder, hung more suet, filled the other feeder - you get the idea.  David came home with a little charcoal grill and grilled our dinner last night.

Today I'm taking a day off of work after the Memorial Day holiday - for 4 day weekend, it still just flies by.  I aim to do more yard work, hoping to plant the rest of our seedlings, not too worse for the days and days of rain I hope.  I also need to vacuum and generally clean house.  We'll see.  Perhaps I'll sit and vegetate, planting myself and sowing my thoughts rather than cucumber seedlings and carrot seeds.

How do we get up each day with the knowledge of loss, suffering and death?  We try to think of the promise of life - I recall the Black Eyed Susan seed balls we planted and hope that today perhaps they'll sprout.  I think of all those I love - and hope today for each of them will be a day to grow, learn something new, be found among friends and family and feel joy.

I breathe and keep on living. 

Peace.

Preparation ... for gardens and annual check-ups

It has continued to be mostly beautiful lately.  I try to find a few minutes during the day - my "break" from work - to sit on our little back "deck" in the sun, watching the birds feed at one of our feeders hanging off of the garage.

On Mother's Day we planned to work in our "garden" - consisting of a raised bed made by David and another long, thin bed next to the house which David also prepped (digging up the grass, turning the soil, adding top soil and some organic compost) as he did the raised bed.

Here's the raised bed - sweet:

But it rained, if not cats and dogs, at least mice and squirrels.  So we ventured down Route 1 and found a great organic garden center in Waldeboro where we purchased some tomato, pepper and cucumber seedlings (having delayed past the date where seed planting seems to be timely), some flowers - zinnias and some unusual marigolds - a neat thistle plant, some herbs (wonderful basil and thyme),  and several beautiful coleus.

We got around to planting the tomatoes and peppers, the thistle, the coleus and some Black Eyed Susan seed thingys I purchased locally some weeks ago.  We still have more to plant.  But the "garden" takes shape.  Start small this year, maybe more next year.  Here's the beautiful thistle and the coleus.

 Here's half of the long thin bed next to the house, with some of the tomatoes and the peppers.

We also heard form the farm in which we purchased a 1/2 CSA share; they'll be at a local farmer's market this weekend.  I hope to stop by.

Then Sunday I'm driving down to CT again.  I have a tight schedule - a lot of work-related events to attend AND each morning a medical-related event - blood work on one day, a CT scan on the next day, and seeing my doctor on the third day.  All for a routine annual checkup, but it is amazing to me how the knowledge of those tests, procedures and appointments follows me around day and night, over my head like a (albeit small) black cloud of anxiety.  Mostly I ignore it, but I "feel" its presence, dogging my days (but so far, leaving me alone at night).  I do believe all will be well.

Furthermore, I have other people much more firmly in my thoughts and prayers, including a dear friend in the hospital bearing so much pain and now scheduled to go into hospice on Sunday.  What's an annual checkup after all, except a reminder of how very lucky and privileged I am.

Meanwhile Midcoast Maine prepares for summer and tourists.  A beautiful 3-masted schooner I saw this morning across the harbor:

Peace.

May arrives ...

It's been a beautiful few days.  Cool nights, clear skies, bright moon, cerulean mornings, warm sun by midday.  Last weekend David had to work and I cleaned up the yard.  We'd heard that the city of Rockland would be picking up leaves and other yard debris this week so we wanted to get ours out there.  With Ella on a long lead, lolling around the yard, I raked up old leaves and debris, cut down dead branches, piled all up and dragged out front for pickup.  Here's the result of my Saturday work:

Down at Ulmer's Point more of the schooners are being pulled out of the water and prepped for launching.  

The biggest and most beautiful is now hauled out.  Here she is:






More signs of spring everywhere we look, including daffodils: 

And the pale yellow leaflets feathering the willows:













Of course, the ubiquitous Rockland gulls - a pair from our morning walk yesterday:

After work yesterday, late afternoon, I sat with a glass of wine in the cooling sun of our backyard with Ella while white gulls wheeled overhead, but low down.  The sky had paled, and the gulls swooped and dove, always crying, crying, just yards above us.  Beautiful.

Spring also brings routine checkups.  I'm due to drive back to Connecticut in three weeks for blood work, a CT scan and visit with Dr. M.  I have no reason not to believe all is well.  In fact I've never felt better.  But it's amazing how just making an appointment causes the odd twinge - probably from so much raking and pruning - to seem ominous.  

Meanwhile, it's good to be alive.

Peace.