 Today, something completely different. I was picking up a book from a friend who lives in Stephen King’s Bangor neighborhood the other day. There has been a fantastical artwork in progress in King's front yard – a massive sculpture being created with a chainsaw from an old, dead tree. Birds and creatures slowly emerged, then a bookshelf - a reader’s dream fantasy in wood. It is particularly appropriate in conjunction with the fact that the Kings are in the midst of establishing an archive and writer’s retreat center in their home, there on West Broadway. Too bad I’m not a horror writer. But hey, who knows where I’ll go next? My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 219: 109 words, TOTAL = 35,770; 24,230 remaining
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Winter is clinging to central Maine, and I don’t really mind. I relish the chill and the fire in the woodstove. I relish its hopeful fantasy of suspending time. I know, I know. Time will never stand still. There are moments in life when you wish it could, though. Like that time we found out our daughter had multiple sclerosis, but we hadn’t told her yet. Or when my creaky, 14-year-old sheprador who can barely get off the floor brings me a stick, ears up, ready to play on snowy March day. Or like now. The virus has wreaked so much devastation, but it promises to get far worse, and it has barely touched my local community so far. Can’t I just stay here, where winter clings, where my old dog friends are okay, where all my family is still fine, where the virus WILL come in full force, but hasn’t yet? Can’t time just stop now and let me stay here, concerned but suspended, safe in this tenuous present? My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 217: 170 words, TOTAL = 35,661; 24,339 remaining  A physician friend recently said goodbye to his spouse and child for a few weeks while he goes to work in the ICU. Jonathan doesn’t expect that we’ll have to isolate from each other, but it’s uncertain how things will go, where he’ll end up being needed. We’ll see. Nellie goes back to work tomorrow, first a week in clinic, then a longer stint in the ICU. She and Mike discussed strategies for Fiona and each other if one of them gets exposed. Fiona is still strictly on breast milk. What are the options? How far should a couple go to avoid transmitting the virus to each other and to their baby? Separate beds? Move out? Anna and Robert have refitted their basement TV space into an apartment for Robert’s brother and sister-in-law and their 4-year-old daughter, who left New York City to isolate in Michigan with support. Tessa’s home piano-tuning income has disappeared, so she’s knitting hats to sell, her own original design with piano key trim. Order now! What can you do? Sometimes, you just take a walk in the woods. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 216: 183 words, TOTAL = 35,491; 24,509 remaining  Next weekend I was supposed to have attended the 50th reunion of The New Blue, the first women’s acapella group at Yale. I joined the group when they were celebrating their 10th anniversary, which means I am old. Nevertheless, since COVID-19 cancelled the event, about 20 of us from the early 80s got together this evening on Zoom– women from all over the country creating a Brady-Bunch-like grid on my computer screen. Many I hadn’t been in contact with for 40 years. What a collection of wonderful, divergent stories and histories, yet all with this musical chapter tethering us together. Zoom is too out of sync for group singing, but we did hold one chord together. Lovely reminiscence. I also felt celebratory today because I sent my query-integrated manuscript and endnotes to my copyeditor in New York City. More steps to come, but this was a big one. In other exciting news, I raked out the herb garden. Life muddles along. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 215: 161 words, TOTAL = 35,308; 24,692 remaining  I’m sitting here watching Jeopardy, wondering how long it will be before coronavirus catches up with the game show. How far in advance do they record their shows? I decided not to look it up. For now, I can pretend for half an hour that I’m still living in pre-virus world. The world outdoors is also virus-free territory. It’s business as usual for emerging wildlife. Goldfinches (still in muted winter plumage), phoebes, bluebirds, and song sparrows are back, house-hunting and singing their spring appeals. This morning, first full ice-out, I startled 24 mallards into the air in three waves of splash, quack, and flapping. Beady-eyed mergansers are around too, the males with their white balloon pompadours, the females sporting punk mohawks . Yesterday while birdwatching by the pond, Jonathan happened to catch a pair of mergansers in flagrante, through his binoculars, apparently a disturbing spectacle. He sent me a text: “You do NOT want to be a female merganser.” My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 214: 159 words, TOTAL = 35,147; 24,853 remaining  A pair of mallards has arrived at the pond! Two merganser pairs were there too. I hope we get babies. Here’s another game idea: cue up your high school decade’s music on Spotify and play name that tune/artist. Jonathan and I played over dinner last night. First, it was intensely evocative of adolescent emotion; we were both transported into our teen selves. It was also an excellent conversation starter. After “Let it Be”: “McCartney?” “Lennon.” “Wasn’t that a shock when he was assassinated?” “Yeah, then he stalked Jodie Foster.” “Wait, he can’t have stalked her afterwards; wasn’t he in jail?” “oh yeah…” “No, it was Ronald Reagan!” “That’s right – he shot Reagan to impress Jodie Foster, after he’d been stalking her.” After “Morning Has Broken:” I guessed Dan Fogelberg; nope, Cat Stevens. When I looked it up, I was surprised to see Eleanor Farjeon’s as the lyricist. Farjeon was a close friend of Rachel Field’s, and wrote one of the beautiful condolence letters that I quote in my book. Weird. Where will your game take you? My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 213: 156 words, TOTAL = 34,988; 25,012 remaining  I got this link today to a remix of “What the World Needs Now Is Love.” A bunch of Berklee School of Music students produced it in response to social distancing. The song is on perpetual replay in my brain, making me happy. There are so many windows into the hearts of humanity these days. Neighbors call out and sing and play music across the spans between apartment buildings. An Italian opera singer opened his balcony windows and sang Nessun Dorma to the world. People visit grandparents in nursing homes from outside their windows, gesturing love with their faces and bodies. In our neighborhood, I just got word that there is to be a bear hunt. Kids will be walking up and down our street hunting for bears in people’s windows. I ran around the house, collecting bears, which was way easier than I realized. We have a ridiculous wealth of stuffed animals for a child-free house. I’ll probably leave the bears in place for a while. I like what they say. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 212: 172 words, TOTAL = 34,832; 25,168 remaining  Here’s some stuff: something lovely, something funny, something delicious, and a recipe. The recipe is Colcannon, an Irish dish with mashed potatoes, sautéed onion and cabbage, bacon, and cheddar cheese. The ultimate decadent comfort food. I cut it out of the Bangor Daily News last week and made it for dinner with roasted asparagus and a green salad with strawberries, pea shoots, and feta. It was just as scrumptious as it sounded. This shelter in place business is a hodgepodge of emotional flares. Content, frustrated, scared, peaceful, exhilarated, pissed off, grateful, despairing. You just never know. We are writing a whole new script for the world. My computer has gone wacky. It reposts old photo collages when I try to paste in new ones, and sometimes swaps new ones into older slots. I had to resort to a computer image of today’s collage, which sucks. Pissed off. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 211: 147 words, TOTAL = 34,660; 25,340 remaining  …that’s what we call it now, since “running out for groceries” is way too tame. I don’t remember ever having Jonathan say, “Be careful” as I left to go food shopping before. I brought a bottle of hand sanitizer, which I used liberally, wiping down my cart handle in the parking lot before I began. “Is that at least 60%?” asked a Hannaford employee, gathering carts. I read the label – “65% alcohol,” I told her. “Oh, good for you. A lot of ‘em are under 60%, and that doesn’t help.” A sign at the door asked shoppers to maintain the 6-feet rule. I only saw one facemask, but shoppers looked serious, gazes cast downward, as though eye contact might spread the contagion. I worried about touching the mangoes and avocados to check for ripeness. The entire experience felt clandestine, like I was breaking rules to even be there, hoping to not get caught. I felt like a pariah at the self-check-out, since a Hannaford employee hovered nearby, sanitizing solution in hand, poised to erase my filth. All employees, though, were exceedingly friendly when asked anything. I thanked as many as I could. Supplies procured. Hands re-sanitized. Back to the bunker. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 210: 200 words, TOTAL = 34,513; 25,487 remaining  My final book cover design is done! I am in love with it, and hope to splash it all over the world over the next year or two. For those who may wonder, I was advised by my publisher to remove Rachel’s name from the title, since she is not well-known enough to draw interest. An unknown name, they felt, might actually deter interest. I was happy they liked this alternative. It does use her last name, which also happens to be the longtime, locally recognized name of our shared island house. It’s simple, and more descriptive of what is to be found inside the pages. I hope it draws interest, so Rachel's name will be revitalized! It was especially gratifying to have one of Rachel Field’s silhouette cut-out illustrations used on the cover. In that way, she is proudly represented. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 209: 141 words, TOTAL = 34,313; 25,687 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs. Archives
June 2023
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