windsend

Back to A

Sorry I got out of alphabetical sequence.  I'll try to do better from now on.

A is for Amaryllis.  We have two trumpeting loudly in the sun room and three more on the way.

Many people throw their Amaryllis away after the first blooming, but these have been coming back for three or four years now, every year bigger and better.

W is for Washington

In this case Mt. Washington.  On a clear day, now that the sun is up, I see Mt. Washington from the window of the weight room at the Pineland YMCA where I do my daily sweating.

This is the view, which you can click for a larger version

W is also for Win, my name.  My namesake, also Win, was my father's elder brother - he was the second of 6 sons and my dad, the fourth.  My uncle Win died before I was born, at the age of 19 in 1937.  He was someone my father never talked to me about, and to be honest, I never gave him all that much thought. 

When you are growing up, any adult who died before you were born is ancient history.  My uncle wasn't old enough to have yet made his mark on the world, or left evidence of a life to be emulated or avoided.  I am not sure, though, whether my lack of curiousity about him had anything to do with some deep suspicion that I might somehow share in his karma - that I, too, might be destined for an early death, my promise unfulfilled. 

Now that I have lived almost three times the lifespan of my namesake, I am pretty sure I harbor no such dread.  Whether or not I have fulfilled my promise is another story - if I haven't, it certainly hasn't been for lack of time.   It is probably blasphemous, on this Easter day, to speculate on whether some of him might live on beyond the grave in me, some unique genetic expression that we alone share.

My namesake uncle died in a skiing accident on Mt. Washington.   Although no one witnessed the event (his companion had fallen, though not fatally, a few seconds earlier) he was apparently blown off a trail at Tuckerman Ravine by some sudden katabatic wind gust and fell some 1500 feet, hitting his head on rocks and probably dying instantly.  Wind sent indeed.

To tell the truth, I still rarely think of my long lost uncle, even when I catch a morning glimpse of Mt. Washington.  There is, though, a certain irony in facing my namesake's mortality across 58 miles of western Maine as I struggle on exercise machines he could never have conceived of in the vain effort to control my blood sugar and keep my heart healthy for life everlasting. 

A is for Alphabet

Thinking I need a little thematic inspiration for this space, I have added the "A is for..." category.   I will use this category sporadically as a sort of encyclopedia of my life.  The great thing about encyclopedias is that their organization is dictated by the arbitrary nature of alphabetical order.  So, the profound and the insignificant stand cheek by jowl, which is pretty much the way of the world.   Hopefully, you and I will both make important discoveries by such serendipitous juxtapositions.

A is for ascending, acumen, the 'aaaah' of satisfaction.  A is for approval, applause, appreciation.  A is for amusing, ardent, amorous.  A is for arise, awaken, arrive.  There is something positive and up lifting about that little arrow pointing skyward, something that makes 'A' a great letter to start off with.  A is for Art.

Of course there are no unmixed blessings.  A is for ax.  A is for Armageddon.  A is for arrhythmia, ataxia, aphasia.  A is for arrogant, afraid, awful.  A is for asshole.  We'll just have to take it as it comes.

Orchid Wall

Inspired by the Orchid Room at Longwood, we have been working to make our own orchid wall in our little sun room.  Here are the beginnings:

Winter down the stretch

Winter has been putting on quite a finishing kick over the last few weeks.   We have more snow on the ground now on the eve of the ides of March than we have seen in any of our 12 winters in this house.  No matter what karmic credit I might try to take for the weather (see below),  mother nature has no interest in me or any of the rest of us. 

On Friday and Saturday we received another 12-15 inches.  My neighbor's daughter with the usual hubris of youth decided to drive home from college on Friday night.  Of course, she made it half way up the hill at the beginning of our road, where her car became hopeless stuck, and she abandoned it.  She walked the last third of a mile home, and as youth are inclined, fell asleep and slept well into the afternoon of the next day.  Of course, the plow couldn't get by her car, and so none of us on Sweetser Road extension went anywhere on Saturday.

But Sunday was another day.  The first morning sun caught the top of the trees with a breathtaking glow out the bedroom window.

These two shots were taken out our two bedroom windows at just after 6 am.  In the second, I have taken the liberty of removing the reflection on the window glass of a bedside lamp... Click on the images for a larger view.