Marine Heritage Festival

This weekend Southampton is celebrating its 2nd annual Marine Heritage Festival featuring all kinds of activities including a cardboard boat judging contest. In fact, we just witnessed a cardboard sailboat being hauled down in the street in the back of a trailer. How many of them there will be, I don’t know, but we’ll soon find out when we walk down the street to Pioneer Park. In addition to the cardboard boat contest there will be a pancake breakfast, a barbecue, cannon demonstrations (hope they don’t hit the cottage), a fish fry, and a special exhibit at the museum. The museum exhibit will focus on the War of 1812 and will feature the General Hunter, a warship of the era that was recently discovered by our friends. It had been buried (and safely preserved) all these years in the beach behind their house. Perhaps we’ll partake of a few additional activities today such as a stop at the beer gardens also in Pioneer Park, or the vintage boat show at the Coliseum. But then, maybe not. Maybe that book I’m reading will take priority. Then, too, the beach is always calling . . .

Unwinding in Southampton

Being in Southampton brings me to a quieter state of mind. The reasons for this are many. First, it’s a small town, which means everything is easier. There is no traffic, or at least no traffic to speak of. Not like the Beltway around Washington, that’s for sure. And because there is no traffic, it’s easy to get around whether on foot, on bike, or in a car. It’s also on the water and not just on any old ocean, lake or river. It’s on Lake Huron. Since I was raised on another of the great lakes, Erie, it all seems totally familiar to me. The fog horn, the fresh water smell, the flat stones, the cottonwood trees rippling in the breeze, the sandy beach, the sunsets across the lake – all of this reminds me of home. Finally, being in Canada brings back so many happy memories of the time I spent here with John in the early years of our marriage. We lived in Peterborough for two years and in Toronto for ten before we moved back to the States and everything changed. Our children were born here. Our close friends from those early days still live here. It feels good to reconnect. And with the unwinding will come . . . who knows? I feel a need to simplify my life, to prioritize the many things I do and let some of them go. I’m going to try to just “be” for the two weeks we are here and let things settled out. Maybe a truth, or at least a pattern, will emerge.

Southampton, Ontario

It doesn’t take long for me to settle in when I get to Southampton. I’ve been coming here for 40 years, give or take a few. At last count we have visited or rented nine different cottages including this one with its magnificent view of the mouth of the Saugeen River as it flows into Lake Huron. I can remember visiting here when Mike was a baby nestled against me in the green corduroy baby carrier. I also remember hanging with our friends before children -- well before our children arrived anyway. Our friends were a few years ahead of us in this department. When we first started visiting Southampton we were living in Toronto – about a three-hour drive away. Our friends invited us to join them for a weekend, which we spent at the family cottage on Peel Street, just a few steps from the lake. Later our friends purchased their own cottage so our visits became more frequent. Still later that little cottage became a retirement home with the addition of an entire new wing on the back. Today their “cottage” retains its distinctive northern Ontario yellow brick façade, hanging flower pots., and well-tended gardens. Like many of the homes in the area, an oval sign near the front door designates the original owner of the home, his occupation, and the date. Theirs reads “Alphonse B. Klein, Judge, 1897.” Pride of heritage is alive and well in this small community of about 2,000 souls. When we first arrive, loaded with books, beach chairs, suitcases, tennis rackets and other paraphernalia we can’t do without, it takes us a day to unpack and unwind. Soon the familiar pattern emerges, however, and by day three we are totally geared down. A typical day brings an hour or so of morning tennis lessons and/or playing from the bench, an opportunity to play doubles with another three random people whose rackets are next to your own on the bleachers. A few errands, perhaps, and a bike ride to Port Elgin and back generally follow. Port Elgin, known as “Port,” is the nearest town located just a few kilometers south of “South.” The afternoon is spent swimming in the “refreshing” waters of the lake and reading at the beach. If it’s too cool or is raining, a side trip to the Bruce County Museum or the eternally fascinating Southampton Market provides a change of pace. Some evenings we may have friends in for dinner or be invited out. Other evenings we’ll walk or bike down the block to the lake for a closer look at the sunset, which can be spectacular. The huge maple leaf flag will be flying from its enormous pole at the foot of High Street. I’ll look out to the lighthouse on Chantry Island, now silhouetted against the spreading colors of the sunset, and feel totally at home.

Road Scholar Program with Addie Bruce and I spent a week with granddaughter Addie in Newport News, VA, at a program sponsored by Road Scholar (formerly Elderhostel). It was fabulous. We all learned a lot about "Fins, Furs, Feathers" plus we had a lot of fun. the program was extremely well presented with many interactive activities for children and grandparents. In addition, we got to tour the Virginia Living Museum which is populated with animals who have been rescued and can no longer return to the wild. We also got to meet many animals up close and personal and even touch them -- a snake, an owl, a skunk, and many others. A couple of days we ventured out into the heat (118 degrees was the heat index) to gather fossils and examine a nearby marsh. On our return to Bethesda, Brian, Addie's Dad, drove down to spend an overnight with us and on Sunday we had to say our goodbyes. We are going to miss her!!

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Bruce met Brian halfway between our house and their house in Allentown, NJ to pick up Addie and bring her here. We went to the playground for awhile -- always a staple -- and then to Imagination Stage in Bethesda to see a performance of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." "Oh," said Addie, finally connecting the dots, "It's Narnia!" which she had seen about 3,000 times! Anyway, it was a terrific performance told in dance (in conjunction with Washington Ballet) and music. The puppetry was amazing, especially the way Mrs. Beaver moved, and of course, Aslan, the gigantic lion. We loved it.

Addie

Tomorrow we begin our private visit with Addie our 9-year-old granddaughter. We're going to participate in a grandparent/grandchild program in Newport News, VA, sponsored by Road Scholar (formerly Elderhostel). Last year we took Brody, our eldest grandchild, and this year it's Addie's turn. Next year, or maybe the one following, we'll take Van, now 7 years old. It's a wonderful gift to be able to spend time with one grandchild sans parents and siblings. We'll be exploring the Chesapeake bay, mucking around in the mud, kayaking, and lots of other things. There will also be time to hang at the hotel pool and one free afternoon to do as we like. I'm going to lobby for the beach which might be a hard sell as Bruce doesn't care for sand. The old joke between us is that he likes the middle of the ocean whereas I prefer the edges! Addie is an amazing little girl. She is a real athlete and also composes music and plays the piano. She likes to play games on our I-Phones and to read. She is also an awesome writer and a math whiz. It's going to be so much fun to have this time with "just" her.

The News

Oh good grief, I'm getting tired of reading about troubles. Take this morning's Post for example: (Washington Mayor) Gray's victory called tainted, Saying arrivederci to retirement dreams, Dispute over parliament threatens Egypt's transition, N.Y. Fed was told of Libor issues as early as 2007, etc. I prefer to think back on yesterday's yoga class during which the teacher asked us to share a bit about ourselves and also to describe what kind of service we do. Every person had something to say about that and the answers were heartening. One young woman takes care of her father who has cancer, another is a stem cell researcher at NIH. Our lone male works in computers at NIH to dispense medical information to millions. A woman who was out of work for 8 months formed a support group for others in the same position. Two of us teach English to adult learners. Another is a psychiatrist, someone else a stay-at-home mom who volunteers for a non-profit. The positive energy in the class was so affirming. Maybe we all need to pay more attention to the things that ARE working in our lives and in the world.

When I was growing up in Erie, everyone I knew was a Republican.  Everyone but Cousin Marie, that is, who lived in New York.  She was my mother's cousin, the daughter of my grandmother's step-sister Jennie, the maven of our Swedish clan.  Marie was a tall, handsome woman who dressed always in conservative suits and sensible shoes.  She adored New York where she lived for many years in a tiny 3rd floor walkup at 156 W. 10th.  She had one close friend named Birdie who lived nearby I guess --I never met her or visited her apartment -- with several cats.  I would bet my last dollar that Cousin Marie and Birdie were lesbians, but in those days the closet was tightly locked.

When she wasn't working at her job as a secretary in a mid-town law office, Marie volunteered at a hospital in the Village, and spent a lot of her money on opera tickets.  She was also greatly amused whenever she visited Julius's, the gay bar across the street.  Something was always going on at Julius's which she would report with relish, like the man dressed in a pink tutu who had come flying through the place on roller skates one Halloween.

She didn't particularly like to travel, but occasionally in the summer she would hop on a plane and visit her Erie relatives.  She was eager to escape the heat of the city and drawn to the prospect of sinking her teeth into luscious ripe peaches hanging from the trees in our yard and playing countless games of bridge in the evening.

When things got dull -- trust me, not much was happening here -- she or my father would start in with the puns.  "That's a nice clock you have, John.  Let's FACE it."  And my father, straight-faced would respond.  "Good idea, but I don't really have the TIME."  This type of exchange could go on for hours, interspersed with the bidding and playing of hands.

One evening, after all the puns had run dry, Cousin Marie decided to try a different tack.  "I think Harry Truman was a great man," she opined.  I think my father half-lifted off his seat before the words came out of his mouth, the words he always used to describe Truman:  "That S.O.B.!"  I was never sure just why he thought so little of Truman, other than that he was a Democrat.  And that would be enough for him.

He would be unhappy to know that his daughter has gone to the other side.  It was W. who pushed me over the edge, but that's another story and another blog.

Our Tree

We were lucky.  During the storm our house sustained no damage and we never lost power.  However, three days later four giant limbs of an oak tree in front started to fall.  We ran out to the porch just in time to hear loud cracking sounds and watch helplessly as about a third of that tree plunged into the street.  Others who had heard the sounds stood sentinel at either end of our property to warn drivers and pedestrians of the coming danger.  Scary.

Good news.  By the next day Pepco and the county had removed the tree -- one branch had landed on wires but not disrupted electricity -- and cleared the street.

heat wave

Erie Girl is trying to stay cool in Bethesda in the 100+ degree heat of the past few days.  It's unbelievable as is the widespread damage caused by the "derecho" that swept through here a week ago last night.  Tree limbs 10" in diameter and more have been wrenched from tree trunks and thrown helter-skelter like match sticks.  Friends have had some of these sailing limbs land on their homes and even crash into their bedrooms.  Many are still without power.  Fortunately, no one I know has been injured, but some injuries and deaths have been reported in the paper.

I grew up in Erie where we had heat waves, maybe into the 90's, but nothing like this.  However, it was warm enough as no one had air conditioning in those times.  Except me, that is.  My parents finally took pity on me and installed a tiny window unit in my upstairs bedroom.  Between that and regular trips to the peninsula to swim in the cool waters of Lake Erie, I survived.

So, about the blog.  It's my latest attempt to get myself WRITING again.  I've taken yet another workshop at the Writer's Center in Bethesda, a fabulous place.  That helped.  What also helped was the group that emerged from the workshop.  We are seven women, of varying ages, from 40's to 70's, I would guess.  At 71, I'm probably the oldest.  Unfortunately, our youngest member, Sarah, whom we all thought was wonderful, has recently moved back to Wisconsin on her way to Beirut, but that's a whole other story.  Anyway, the group has been meeting every other week over the summer, even though that's a difficult time to write.  Some of our members have young children at home; others, like me, do a lot of traveling.  Nonetheless, we like the synergy of the group and are eager to keep it going.  In the fall, we'll be able to settle down to a more systematic schedule, at least I hope so.  At least I hope that I can.

My problem is that I don't really know what to write about.  I also don't know where to publish what I write.  The market is so scattered now, with on-line stuff in addition to hard copy publications.  It's hard to know where to start.  AND, it takes FOREVER to comb through all the possibilities.  So I guess I really have to ask myself why I want to write and for whom?  Maybe it's enough to write for me, for my family, and for my friends.