This past weekend was the cranberry harvest at the Carlisle bog. A strange little berry, but it does make for a good photo.
Growing up in Massachusetts I took this for granted as a kid and just wanted the harvest to be over. That meant winter was coming and the flooded and frozen bog would become our personal and free skating rink. Learning to ice skate on a bog – with roots and twigs every few feet – makes a real rink look too easy. And a Zamboni, ridiculous.
For someone who thinks she is fairly aware of trends – and is clearly wrong about this fact – I can’t believe I wasn’t aware of terrarium fever until this past July. It was a visit to a local garden store with a little money and time to kill that first brought them to my attention.
I ended up buying, Tiny World Terrariums by Twig Terrarium out of Brooklyn, NY and am now obsessed. This obsession hasn’t actually translated into the mass-production of terrariums I had anticipated, but I finally made my first one and was able to take the idea and translate it into an activity for a 9 year old birthday party. It also doesn’t hurt that we basically live in a terrarium and are surrounded by a large variety of mosses both on and around our house.
I’ve always loved miniatures and at 44 still buy the occasional Lego set. But I had no idea of the endless possibilities HO scale figures could provide and I think I’m more interested in acquiring them at this point than building with them. Although I keep telling myself that will come in due time.
I can’t take credit for the title – that was an editorial decision – but the rest of the piece is my newest handiwork after a two month writing break. My brain has been spinning non-stop since I wrote this article and I’m hoping that translates into regular writing.
Just a word that this blog may be moving from WordPress at some point in the very near future. I’ve been encountering some weird issues with it for over a month now where some days I can access it and some days it’s broken. And even though I may not post as regularly as I should, the thought of it not working (or, horror of horrors, the content disappearing!) as designed makes me crazy.
I’ve finally managed to post, now let’s see if I can export the content!
Anyone else having problems?
~ A resident of a small Japanese village replaces residents who have moved or died with handmade dolls. How weird it would be to just stumble upon this without any context, arts and crafts zombies.
She knew it was an unfair question the moment she opened her mouth. But it snuck out, accidentally or on purpose.
“Promise me you’ll take care of your sister.”
The urgency in her own voice was almost unrecognizable and she realized it was the first time she had admitted out loud that something was really wrong. Of course she and Grant had talked about their fears for their oldest daughter before, but only to each other and always at the wrong time keeping the discussion halted: a moment of panic after Chloe melted down again or in the early morning hours unable to sleep with the gnawing sensation that their child would end up helpless and alone, a prisoner of her own mind.
“Who will take care of her when we’re gone?” would repeat on infinite loop until Margot finally fell asleep.
Today’s zoo trip was to the Stone Zoo in Stoneham. The facility is managed by the same organization as Franklin Park and one membership gets us into both. It’s a funny little zoo and I ended up liking it a lot. It’s on the small side and set across from a residential neighborhood on one end and what I assume to be a reservoir on the other. We all agreed it would be amusing to look out our living room window and see a snow leopard across the street or Mexican wolves – both of which faced homes.
The animal enclosures are set throughout a very wooded area with streams and wooden walkways. One section is entitled “Treasures of the Sierra Madre” and consists of animal enclosures with an “old timey” gold mine aesthetic. Picture a jaguar in an abandoned mining camp and lizards resting in the store display windows of a deserted mining town. It’s totally weird and a little rundown, but charming all the same.
With one of the kids sick and school vacation coming to a close we decided to go to the Franklin Park Zoo in Dorchester. The germs would be free range, if not the animals. It’s been well over a decade since I was last at Franklin Park and while it looks better than it did back then, I realize I’ve been spoiled with some pretty amazing zoos these past years: Denver, San Francisco, Oakland, and Fort Worth (though the latter was a little over branded for me with the Cheetah exhibit sponsored by Cheetos).
While his roar was fantastic, the lion today looked a bit weathered and may or may not have had a cataract (or two). And the gorillas? I don’t remember them looking so sad or having such a strong urge to rescue them. They looked dirty, displaced, and depressed. I have a love/hate relationship with zoos on a good day, but the gorillas I saw on the west coast did not behave like these. The ones in Denver had a some anger issues and a certain western swagger, but otherwise seemed very well cared for. Perhaps it was just the setting and I caught them on a sleepy day, but today’s gorilla enclosure did not leave a favorable impression. Nor did the smell.
We made the trek south for the annual Plymouth Thanksgiving parade. It was freezing and we got there way too early, but once it got underway it was worth the wait and cold.
Photos of our summer trip to Plimoth Plantation are here.
I have a really bad memory. This wasn’t always the case, but as I get older it gets worse and worse. Of course I remember all the horrible things that have happened to me over the years. That stuff never seems to go away except for maybe secondary school memories. I have nicely blocked out most, if not all of, junior high and high school.
Before the advent of Facebook this wasn’t an issue, but now I struggle to remember who people are that try to “friend” me on occasion or pop up in a friend’s feed. How did I know them? Did we get along? Were they nice to me or was I nice to them? Do they remember me from my awkward wallflower phase or my naughty townie phase? It’s always weird to hear other people describe me from those earlier years because they are describing someone I don’t really know. I’ve either repressed that much of my adolescence or they they have mistaken me for someone else completely.
I recently discovered that I had blocked out a major memory: my answer to the question, “What do you want to do when you grow up?” When I started writing on a whim last year I had forgotten that my answer to that question was to write. How do you forget something so fundamental you may ask? I don’t know, but I did. If only I had that much success in forgetting my first boyfriend.
My husband and I had a very grown up Saturday and took in a lecture by Ang Lee and James Schamus at Wellesley College and then walked around campus for a few hours. Why is it that you appreciate things more when you no longer have them? I loved the campus when I was a student there (in my late 20s), but I didn’t realize just how special it was until it was over. How beautiful is it? Let’s put it this way, the sight of it this past weekend may almost make the remaining 10 years of monthly student loan payments a little less painful.
- Inspiring People: Ang Lee & James Schamus (musingsofanorientalgypsy.wordpress.com)
We decided to bring the kids to Salem today to check out the town pre-Halloween. It was a little too festive; the crowds made it difficult to see its character and its characters. I think we’ll have to make a return trip in a month that’s not October. I’m eager to head back some afternoon and just spend a day taking photos.
Yesterday called for a short hike on the Woodchuck trail and Garrison loop in Great Brook Farm State Park. Even with the light rain, it was a beautiful and easy hike. We parked near the canoe launch and walked across the road to the Woodchuck trailhead to find some historical spots for my daughter’s school project located along the trail.
After passing the site of an old dam, our first historic stop was the remains of some kind of Colonial stone garrison. Fairly close by was an Indian grinding stone, that appears to have been intentionally destroyed. Looking at the stone you can see that holes were drilled down its length and at a depth almost reaching its bottom, splitting it in half and to its base. Finally we ended up at the site of the old grist mill.
Not a bad 60 minutes.
~ My kids don’t care for Sesame Street, but I’m nostalgic for that theme song. And while I’m more of a Jimmy Kimmel fan than Jimmy Fallon, this particular clip made me smile. The Roots and muppets playing simple instruments (and rapping!)? What’s not to like?