P1040235Tomorrow morning at 9am(5/23) we will be dedicating the Great Bay marker at Stewart Park. A gathering, a few words on the Great Bay Estuary  and a great  many thanks will be expressed to all that facilitated this project. I just swung by the park and Luann Faber was there planting some new salvia.

See you in the morning.


Great Bay marker installed today

P1040176P1040171Make sure to get down to Stewart Park to take a look. I am huddling with Luann Faber who adopted the space years ago,on some new plantings for the area . It’s all fill though, no soil, so we have to resort to mending specific areas .

Today I was working down there after Jeff Gallant of Exeter Monument Works  had set the stone in place. Jeff  really stepped up to the plate to fabricate for the EAGFWC a  beautiful marker.

He is an extraordinary artisan.

So, I  was hearing exactly what I expected as I worked  in the park , and it was gratifying.

“Oh , so that’s where this river goes”

“Mommy this river goes all  the way to the ocean!”

It is my hope also that everyone will keep an eye on this latest addition to Stewart Park to insure it stays fresh for a long time.

Thanks so much to all my friends in the Exeter Area GFWC for their generous support in bringing this project to fruition.

Have a wonderful weekend.


out of pocket

My Aunt caught the same viral bug as did I which required , for her, a short hospital stay. I still have some lingering effects and it is going on now for 12 days.

Yes, I am counting. If you also have had this bug, I know your pain. I would suggest the rest of you steer clear of anyone coughing. It’s a real knockout punch of a virus or flu or whatever. I didn’t bother with a diagnosis, My Aunt’s Doc said it could last 3 weeks.

She got it days before me.

A 91 year old does not spend  4 nights in the hospital without some rather pronounced effects.

So once we sprung her from the joint , I moved in with her, and brought the dog.

It was a week of walks around Clemson Pond for Bailey and I while she slept.




“How about you and me ?”


“The names Drake”


“Fine then!”






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Saturday morning

“It was a beautiful July day, one of those days which come only after a long spell of settled weather. From the very early morning the sky is clear. The sunrise does not blaze fiercely but spreads in a gentle flush. The sun is neither fiery nor incandescent, as in a time of sultry drought; it is not dark crimson as before a storm, but bright and gently radiant—rising peacefully from behind a long, narrow cloud, shining freshly, and once more sinking into its lilac mist.

‘The thin upper rim of the extended cloud sparkles sinuously; its brilliance is like the brilliance of beaten silver. But a moment later the dancing beams come shooting out again and the mighty luminary rises gaily and majestically, as though borne aloft on wings. About midday there usually appears a multitude of high, round clouds, golden-grey, with delicate white edges. Like islands, scattered over a boundless river in flood, flowing round them with deep, transparent arms of an even blueness, they scarcely seem to stir; farther off, towards the horizon, they come more closely together, they almost touch and merge, and one no longer sees any patches of blue between them, but they remain almost as azure as the sky; they are filled through and through with light and warmth. The colour of the horizon, light and of a pale lilac, does not change all day and is the same all round; there is no sign of a gathering, darkening storm, except that here and there bluish shafts can perhaps be seen coming down from above, but that is merely the scattering of an almost imperceptible shower. Towards evening these clouds vanish; the last of them, darkish and smudged like smoke, lie in pink puffs against the setting sun; over the place where it has set as calmly as it rose into the sky, a scarlet radiance lingers for a short time over the darkened earth and, flickering softly, like a candle that is carried with great care, the evening star twinkles faintly in the sky … ”

An excerpt from “Bezhin Meadow” by Ivan Turgenev 1818- 1883


never knew that

Yesterday on the Piscataqua River, in addition to cavorting seals, I thought it was a Loon beside the boat, then dismissed it, despite the obvious coloring.
That’s a lake bird the Loon, I thought to myself.

I checked this morning and indeed the Loons winter in saltwater.

They have a special gland adaptation that allows them to filter the saltwater and secrete the  salt.



Reaching Newfields I glanced  over the stern, there was quite a wall headed our way. I have to decide right here if I am going under the RR trestle or not. On an incoming tide, that means a commitment of an hour or better before I could slip back under. The windshield height is my  limitation. If Doozie is along it’s her call, I don’t mind  motoring in rain. She’s a bit of a fair weather gal . It’s one thing to get caught, another to know it’s coming and  have  kept going.

This is the view off the bow, so off we go!

The great bulk of dark clouds slipped East , the rest broke up for a great display.

Another great call by Doozie!.