Yummy sunflower seed


This same animal was here the night before just before dusk.  It will be interesting to see if he hangs around.  

I wonder if it is a vegetarian?


Still not summer! Torrential rains, 61? at 7AM. I have long underwear under my SHORTS! And a sweatshirt. And I have a plate of grits and sausage with my pot o black extra bold. In my mind it is a balmy late October.

 I’m damned if I am going to light a fire.

 This is – well, it’s wrong!

 We forgot to bring in the two Audubon feeders last night and the raccoons dumped them in the driveway. One of these nights when I can’t sleep because of my piercing backache I will sit up in the window with my Marlin model 39-A lever action and fill their asses with hollow point sub-sonic loads.

 Maybe they are drowning as we speak. I’m a hopeless dreamer.

 I am having some issues between my shoulders. It easies up after rising but getting out of bed I feel as though I am being attacked by a knife wielding mugger. Funny, within minutes after getting out of bed, I am fine unless I particularly stress the area. It may be time for a visit to my friendly osteopath.

 BTW, that Cambridge cop WAS stupid!

 Well that’s all the news from Pownal. It’s slacked up a bit. I’ll put on boots and rain togs and go out for the paper and bring in and fill the feeders. Later this afternoon, I’ll stack some more wood if the rain quits. Winter is coming – early they say.

 Like the sign says at the border: Maine – The way life should be.

 Careful what you wish for.


I haven’t read Hemingway In longer than I can remember. Now, thanks to a friend who sends me books on tape, I am listening to TRUTH AT FIRST LIGHT, which is so far an arresting tale of an African safari in the twilight years of such things, in the classic sense of those things. I am not even half way through and I am “captured” the rhythm of his prose – his Hemingwayness. He seems to leave no “stone unturned” when it comes to touching on every element in a scene. Listening rather than reading is quite different in that the mind seems to me to do more work and is engaged at a deeper level of “painting” pictures and being there with the author. Having Brian Dennehey read to me, I can easily imagine it is Papa himself narrating.

 The jacket blurb calls this “a blend of autobiography and fiction”. I submit that all autobiography is at best fiction. And in addition, I think fiction at its best is truth.

 On Listening –

 I appreciate situations that permit listening. Driving, treadmilling, yoga, cooking. I’m a radio boy who used to lie in bed wearing headphones listening into the night to a homemade cat whisker tuned crystal set that brought voices to me from far away. I love reading words on a page. I love watching a well done movie version of a book. My mind fairly soars, however, listening to a well read audio book.

There is a jungle in my back yard. The recent season of unusual rain has left a lush under and over growth that appears beyond control. The effort will be made of course. To control, that it. Based on history, it will dry out and get hot and the under and over growth will scale back and even the vegetable garden will seem to be workable. We might even have a crop of tomatoes, a little kale, chard, collard greens and leeks. I did manage, after two and a half days of no rain, to get the entire main yard mowed.

In the meantime, we just adjust. We make allowances for nature chiefly because there is no other choice short of madness.
Just prior to the turn of the century, Kurt Vonnegut, a personal literary hero of mine, offered up an essay in a series offering advise and learned pontification about how do deal with the next hundred years. In his piece he admonished us to watch out how we seek to handle nature. He allowed that the nature of nature was not that of a warm fuzzy teddy bear. Nature is not your friend.
That impressed me. I never expect the natural world to be one found in childhood books but rather in news casts about hurricanes and tornados. Even historical and unusually incessant rain: be advised that stuff is happening and we are here as it happens. Haul out your adaptive skills and patience, mostly with yourself.
There is, I am sure you know, this thing on TV called, “After People”. It’s an apocalyptic projection about what would happen after all humans are gone. Of course that is the big premise. Nature will outlast us. I tried to imagine this three acres without any human care for a few years.
I thought about this and immediately went down to the cellar and sharpened the mower blades and got to work. I am not ready to capitulate, all the while knowing that at some point nothing will be left here but a hole in the ground with a floribunda rose covering most of the place. Oh, and the goddamned red squirrels and spiders – I am certain they will be nesting in my oven and dining on the odd bits and other detritus of our existence. I keep them down as best as I can, but it is a loosing battle. I know. It’s a burden, and someone must bear up beneath it. Anyway, so far, my bullet bill is not as much as my gin bill. That’s a good sign, I think.
It’ll be burgers on the deck this evening and enjoying the beauty of the place – the birds and chipmunks and yes, the GD red squirrels be they ever so bold as to get within range. I still love nature, even though I know she simply tolerates me. But, hey, I’m used to that.
Be well, and stay tuned . . . .
Jerry Henderson

The rumor is that a front is on the way. MORE rain coming (We’re already at record levels) to super soak already soaked earth
I’m trying to cut grass but a large area is boggy and defies my motorized invasion.
I have a Japanise willow that loves wet. Here is what a three foot tree looks like in four years! I only hope the grass doesn’t rise up and obscure it.
Sent from my iPhone

Sent from my iPhone

I seldom have sleep issues. A couple of nights ago I did. I was awake until almost 5 AM. I suppose if I had been carousing and running the roads, I would have been okay with this.

 I wasn’t – I was lying a bed and waiting for sleep to catch up.

 I had to smile even in such a depleted state. I realized I had spent a large, perhaps largest part of my life waiting for something or someone. I suppose that is true of most of us if we carefully define waiting. For me it is the process of spending time in anticipation of something to happen.
That something can be the arrival of a friend, a pot to boil or sleep to suddenly and most of the time unexpectedly to come. The list is endless.

 Waiting for CA to safely return from a night as a nurse in Hospice House. Waiting for the doctor to call me in. Waiting for the coffee to “make” and the mail to come. The most agonizing waiting for me was the long restless wait for a child to come in from some late night adventure. The mind plays heartlessly with you during these vigils and nothing feels as sweet as the sound of the car in the drive or the key in the lock.

 Some of the more pleasant waits for me have been at bus stops in the early years and for transportation in general throughout my life. As a teen, I spent many hours at a bus stop. It was my mode of transportation in our one car family. One night as I was waiting for the bus to take me to my Dorothy Lamour Official Guitar Lesson downtown this girl I sort of knew at school came up to wait with me. She was a squarishly built girl, not altogether unattractive with a head full of blonde curly hair. She said Hi, and I said Hi and smiled. She said as though the thought was hanging there from the rafters, “You have very nice white teeth”. That stirred something in me I was not used to being disturbed in such a public setting, and all I could come up with was a truthful, “You do too”.

 We continued waiting in halting English as we explained what our destinations were. She was impressed that I was “studying” the guitar. I was dreaming guitar not studying it. Waiting is like that.

 I have decided that waiting and learning how to wait creatively, is a good skill to develop. I find that in order to have a good waiting experience one needs to be prepared. I never go without pencil and paper, book to read and these days some telephony equipment or computing device. I can read, write and be in touch. Of course, if the situation allows it, I can catch a few Z’s as well.

 I should mention driving. Driving is a form of waiting as well. I listen to audio books as a way of “using” the time well. I read more that way than any other these days. Then there is the old standby of just letting my mind ramble along with the trip. I suppose some warning should be posted: Do not operate machinery while mind rambling.

 All in all, waiting is not the drag it could be as long as you are in control of the conditions of the wait. Never give up control of the waiting experience. Do it your way and enjoy it. And don’t forget to smile.

 Be well. And stay tuned.

It looks like the entrance but it is really the exit – from this side. I like the view up here, but how do I get down?

Sent from my iPhone