Heather's blog

A Little Drama was Just What I Needed

Lynn Canal Community Players weekend drama, Dinner With Friends, was just great. I had dreaded it because of the publicity, which emphasized the serious tone of infidelity, divorce, and friends taking sides. It wasn't suitable for anyone under 18 either.  And there was an almost four minute nasty marital bedroom fight.  I mean really, in April, when it's still so cold, and just when you think it is spring it snows again? But the show was so well written (those Pulitzer Prize judges know their drama) and so well acted and directed that I was pulled in right from the start.

Signs of Spring

This morning as we were walking a whole pack of dogs on the beach (there were three humans and five canines) we marveled at how this time yesterday it was snowing but by the evening it was clear and calm and the inlet was full of birds and smelled like May. John said the good thing about this year's bipolar weather is that we get to greet spring so many times, rather than just once.

Some Things to Know for Wednesday

 It's snowing. I know, 'nuff said.  There's music in the stacks from noon-1 at the library featuring Dr. Feldman on his concertina. Tomorrow at noon it' s that wayfaring mariner Scott Pearce & Friends band "Howl's Pals" and Friday it's Liz Marantz Falvey on violin and perhaps a guest cello player. Also at 4:00 this afternoon at the library there will be a demonstration of the new ereader for libraries (you borrow electronic books on them). Thursday evening at 5:30 it's dinner and cool films about women, Lunafest, at Harriett Hall.

Punctual Snow


Here's a little spring verse, set to motions and music for the young and the young at heart. Words by Emily Dickinson tune by Nancy Nash-- (But you can make up or borrow your own if you don't know ours):


New feet withing my garden go (marching)

New fingers stir the sod (kneading fingers)

A troubadour upon the elm betrays the solitude (hands to mouth, calling)

New children play upon the green ( hands gently patting little heads)

Running is a place- like Alaska.

Am I the only one who couldn't sleep last night after all those horrific images from Boston? I won't look anymore. The radio is enough. How could anyone be so evil? All I kept thinking about was when my husband ran the 100th anniversary Boston Marathon. His parents, Grandma Joanne and Phil, waited at the finish line with our oldest daughter, Eliza, then in eight grade. Imagine. I can't. I qualifed for Boston six times, but never managed to run it, since training in Alaska for an April marathon is hard.

Sunday's Thought

New Year's resolutions and good wishes really should be made in the Spring, when so much more seems possible than in January.

Here's one I love, from Maxine Kumin's poem, Magellan Street, 1974:

This is the year, in a kitchen

you brighten with pots of basil

and untidy mint, I see how

your life will open, will burst from 

the maze in its walled in garden

and streak toward the horizon.

Has Spring Sprung?

The sun is out, the snow is mostly gone, the geese are back in the ponds on the beach, and my neighbor Betty saw her first hummingbird. No doubt the little guy rode up on the back of a goose. Is that true? Or an old wives's tale? Is it just a coincidence they arrive at the same time? Speaking of sure signs of Spring, I think the Olen Nash Memorial  Big Air snowboard competition is this afternoon, although there may be little air and it may be continued tomorrow.  The organizers are a bit loose. They are snowboarders.

Happy Thursday

 At Morning Muscles this morning I asked Marnie if the reason my formally achy joints  felt so good is because of the yoga cleanse. I mean, does this mean I never can have coffee again?( Ice cream? Pizza? Wine!? ) How will I write another book? The good news is she suspects the daily yoga is to blame. I can probably keep that up at home after we are done. Phew.



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