Atlantic Ave.

This blog is getting sleepy

I was watching a nesting osprey on a web cam this morning and it occurred to me (again, for about the 50th time in the past couple of weeks) that I might like to take the summer off (at least) from blogging and looking at things online and go do some real stuff instead. Ospreys nest on a tidal river about 5 miles from our (real) house.

I'm tired of all the crap online. I'm tired of signing on Comcast and seeing Lindsay and Rosie and Paris and Britney. I'm tired of my blog not being what people were looking for when they Googled ("four-leaf clover"). I'm tired of having my photos linked to and used without attribution. I'm tired of the most vapid, scandalous and weird news being featured on news sites because those stories garner the most hits.

Now that you can get everything online (every tv show ever made!) I find that's not what I want. I want to go for a walk. Dig in the garden. Have lunch with a friend. Write something else. Learn something new that does not involve the laptop or my worn out finger pads. Catch up on family photo albums. Catch up on family. Take a break.

I'm mulling a vacation from blogging.

Eighty, oh yeah

Sunny and 80˚ at the moment. I had a 3.5-mile walk.

U-15 girls lacrosse victory (12-5) last night v. Amherst, a good team. Then John and I had a date at Margarita's. He's off to Dallas for recurrent training today. He'll miss the girls' last choral concerts tomorrow evening (at 6:30 at NHS and 7 at WHS).

I'm off to JoAnn Fabrics for 2-inch-wide embroidery tape to sew straps on my youngest's strapless dress for the Saturday semi-formal, otherwise she's illegal for entry onto school grounds.

We've had a baltimore oriole visiting since we put out some orange slices. I'll try for a pic.

CARNIVAL OF ICE CREAM #1 - May

The assignment: Eat sweet and blog

The ice cream bloggers...
(I will continue to add links today, and through the next couple of days if needed.)

Here on Atlantic Ave., I think summer is peachy, especially with the Beach Plum a mere 2-and-half-mile jog away (ha).

Why does Mississippian William T. "Terry" Thornton love vanilla ice cream best? He dishes in Sliced Bread, Milk, and Ice Cream in the Hill Country.

I was born in the Hill Country of Monroe County, Mississippi, during the 1930s. By the time I was old enough to start having good memories, the war years were upon us. And during those hard times, my father's country store had limited deliveries of some items we take for granted today.

Fabulous photographer Marie, at Blue Ridge blog, captures the essence of sweetness with a photo of her four-year-old niece and a Blue Moon ice cream cone: May your life be topped with colored sprinkles....

Mark of Irish Elk fame, has the scoop on two meccas of soft-serve near his home, happy ice cream memories, as well as a memorial to a now-vanished Boston institution. His cone of choice?

The Brigham's vanilla with jimmies remains, for me, the ne plus ultra of ice cream cones. And on any list of worthy Brigham's take-home flavors: coffee, mocha almond and pistachio.

Such good taste.

Na Hamsha history maven Janice, blogging at Cow Hampshire, explores the origin of an odd little term used by locals to denote a cup of ice cream, New Hampshire Slanguage: Hoodsie.

Almost one hundred years ago, H.P. Hood & Sons entered the ice cream business, building a "dairy bar" on Beacon Street in Boston. After World War I, ice cream became popular, with "Hood" being a leading brand in our area. Their "Hoodsie Cup," was, and still is, a delicious 3-oz cup of ice cream. In the spring of 1998 the 50th anniversary of the "Hoodsie" was officially celebrated.

It is a term near and dear to our hearts– my husband's father was a milkman for H.P. Hood & Sons, first in the Leicester/ Worcester area then on Cape Cod. Janice also includes a geneology of the company founder, Harvey Perley Hood.

Now I'm going to have to try Brown's. This is the beauty of blogging and sharing.

When you move to a new place from away, you notice things. Melissa, blogging at Musings of a Mainah, noticed when she moved to New England for the first time that New Englanders are crazy about ice cream. She visited Brown's in York Beach today. It's recommended by a very famous Ben, whose name is most often followed by "& Jerry's." Of course it's Melissa's recommendation that counts with me. In, Ode to the Joy of Scoop she says:

I do all I can to make sure New England remains first in ice cream consumption.

With qualifications like that, it's no surprise our Mainah will host the next CARNIVAL OF ICE CREAM (on whatever day near the end of June she chooses.)

Chris Howard at Theophrastus has just the right place for ice cream sandwiches... "These crunchy cookies sandwiching any flavor you want."

He also doesn't mind a little drive to make Memories.

Sprinkle Twinkle
from Songs for Ice Cream Trucks
by Michael Hearst

Summer is peachy

A little peach in an orchard grew,—
A little peach of emerald hue;
Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew
It grew.
- Eugene Field


Memorial Day weekend is a preview of summer, a taste of things to come. On Saturday in sunshine, daughter Laura and I visited the Beach Plum, across from North Hampton Beach. I wrote about it last year too. Map.

Laura had a chocolate fudge brownie frappe.

I had a waffle cone with a heaping scoop of peach ice cream. Peach because it is such a summer fruit – though peaches won’t be in season here until early August. So I ate last year’s peaches, in ice cream, in anticipation of this summer. It was smooth and creamy. There were just the tiniest flecks of real peaches frozen into an almost popiscle-like texture – each one a tiny melt-in-the-mouth peach burst.

Summer! Summer! Summer! Sorry, I can't contain my enthusiasm for the anti-winter.

Beach Plum sells Richardson’s hard ice cream and Hood soft serve. Lago’s makes their own as does Annabelle’s in Portsmouth, so I will give their peach ice cream a try when it’s in season.

Make your own Peach Ice Cream, or Peach and Brown Sugar Ice Cream.

In your eyes

Blue flag, or Iris versicolor, is native to North America and grows wild around our pond. Today the first one bloomed.

Just after I shot this flower the dog, possessed of a springtime frenzy, ran it over. Then he rolled in the flowers that were about to bloom and when I yelled "hey!" he came over, shook the pond water off his fur onto me, then ran off like a mad dog to chew a stick into sawdust. He is normally so obedient that the exceptions to the rule are notable, and he knows it.

Iris the flower was named for Iris the goddess, by that Swedish Adam of science, Carl Linnaeus. Linnaeus was the father of modern taxonomy, the naming and categorizing of things. Iris was the Greek rainbow goddess, and the winged messenger between the immortals and humanity.

The other kind of iris is in your eyes, of course.

Iris is the provincial flower of Quebec.

In our hotel gift shop in Montreal, I used up some loonies on a couple of magazines for the bus ride home. Anna read Discover first, then came up the aisle from the back of the bus and said, "Mom, you have to read this one." She opened it to "The Search for the Human Soul."

Can science find evidence for a human soul, or will it always be a matter of faith?

Some theorists believe we should be looking at the quantum level. Consciousness may exist there. (Quantum brain.) One guy says all consciousness came into being at once during the Big Bang. It is shared out in whatever the technical term is for little quantum bits and never disappears, even after death.

At home I looked for the article online so I could link it, but I don't think June is up yet. When I searched for "soul" I got this, speaking of iris:

Eyes may really be the window to the soul

Mats Larsson, a psychology graduate student at Örebro University in Sweden has linked iris patterns to personality traits.

That's cool. Even though I always still thought eyes were the window to the soul (having refused to be blinded by science.) Laura and I read the article together. We kept pausing to stare deeply each other's irises (or irides) until we started laughing uncontrollably.

Today I found out from my dad, who found out from my second-to-youngest sister Ursula who has been doing a bit of geneological research that, through our English-then-Colonial-American side of the family we are distant cousins with Henry David Thoreau and Nathaniel Hawthorne and direct descendents of Geoffrey Chaucer.

Does that explain why we all go into default mode for English major when we get to college?

My father says he's not surprised. My grandmother, who doesn't care that much about literature, says she is not surprised all the famous people are from her side of the family. My sister Ann, my uncle Dan and I can all recite the beginning of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English from memory. They can go farther than I can, and even had a Chaucer-Off one evening, reciting alternating lines.

Me, I feel our heritage is beyond blood. Everyone who reads and loves these men is their descendent; we inherit their words.

Chaucer is fresh and modern still, and no dust settles on his true passages. It lightens along the line, and we are reminded that flowers have bloomed, and birds sung, and hearts beaten in England. Before the earnest gaze of the reader, the rust and moss of time gradually drop off, and the original green life is revealed. He was a homely and domestic man, and did breathe quite as modern men do.

- Henry David Thoreau

There is writing talent in my family, and I'm just talking about the living ones. I just finished reading a manuscript my dad wrote based on the bedtime stories he told us as kids. Not many people are lucky enough to have a fairy tale written for them, and about them. And well written.

But there are also visual artists in the family. This afternoon, out by the pond, I gave the camera to Laura. She disappeared. She was so low to the ground, I couldn't see her beyond the reeds. Later, I downloaded her photos and saw what she sees.

Here is a little photo album featuring some of her pics today, unedited: Laura's Pond

Decoration day in Little River

Herald Sunday, May 27

Honor
By Amy Kane

Eighty flags are starched by the breeze. Their colors are bright: each star is bold, each stripe distinct. For 23 years, in the week before Memorial Day, Joe Kutt has made sure a new American flag stands at the grave of every veteran buried in the Little River Cemetery in North Hampton.

Historians say the oldest headstones date from 1796 — they are tipped or half-sunken in the sod, stained with lichen and acid rain. Newer stones are smooth marble.

The two-acre cemetery next to an old white church is as quiet on Memorial Day as every other day, except for the birds and the cars on Atlantic Avenue rushing to claim parking spots at the beach.

It is easy to feel the world has forgotten this place.

"People just drive by, but it's important, it's important to me," Kutt said. "Every time you see a flag in a cemetery, you know it was a guy who paid the ultimate price, or was willing to do that.

"I've lost friends. I've had so many friends and relatives in the armed forces. I just think it's important we don't forget them."

Kutt is a veteran of the Vietnam War. He served in the Navy as a dispersing clerk and ship's store clerk on a vessel that ran supplies from the Philippines and Okinawa up and down the coast of Vietnam. He was sometimes as close to a mile from battle. When battle stations were called, he helped with communications because he was a fast talker.

Anyone who knows Kutt now — as the longtime proprietor of Joe's Meat Shoppe in North Hampton — has observed that he retains this talent. Kutt, 62, recently handed over the store and its responsibilities to his daughter, but he is still at work most days.

Kutt is a member of American Legion Post 35 in Hampton. Each year he volunteers to place flags at Little River Cemetery and at Center Cemetery in North Hampton. Old flags, faded and torn from winter weather, are burned in a ceremony at the American Legion on Flag Day, June 14.

The American Legion, made up of thousands of people like Kutt, takes responsibility for placing flags at the graves of veterans all across the country. Many sites, like Little River, have bronze markers noting the war in which the veteran served.

Memorial Day began as Decoration Day.

In 1868, Commander in Chief John Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic designated May 30 as a day of remembrance

"for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet churchyard in the land."

The first national celebration was the same year, at Arlington National Cemetery, where both Union and Confederate soldiers were buried. Around 1900, the name was changed to Memorial Day. In 1971, federal law made it the last Monday in May and extended it to honor all veterans who had died in war.

Soldiers who served in the Civil War are buried in Little River. So are veterans of the Revolutionary War, the war of 1812, World War I, World War II, Korea and Vietnam.

In 1952, Philip Noyes Hobson Jr. was killed in action in Korea at age 20. He is buried not far from a flowering hydrangea tree. Crabapple, lilacs and dogwood are blossoming now.

Kutt takes time to read some of the stones, as do his helpers. This year he has brought his grandchildren Joey LeClaire, 9, and Sarah LeClaire, 7, both of Portsmouth, and Kutt's North Hampton neighbor Jacob Penney, 11, who wears his Boy Scout uniform.

The kids are quick to roam the grounds and pull the old flags, unless the wooden dowels have swelled inside the bronze markers. Then Kutt uses pliers to wrench them loose.

"This is a very old graveyard; there are some real oldies in here," he observes. "You can't forget where it started, how many people gave their lives years ago for the freedom of America."

Some sites stir memories. "Lt. Richard McFarland, U.S. Navy. I knew him. He was a good customer of mine," said Kutt, kneeling to pull out the old flag.

"A lot of them were my customers, and friends. There are a lot of stories that haven't been told, a lot of stories that went to the grave with them," he mused.

Kutt likes to read military history and lately finished an account of a New Hampshire artillery regiment in World War II.

"They wrote diaries every day; it was amazing the heroism and the guts to hang in there. It's amazing what the human body can endure. ... That's why they call them the Greatest Generation."

When the flags have been replaced and the kids have hopped back in the truck, Kutt pauses for a moment to look across the cemetery, glowing golden in late afternoon sun.

"Another year, another reminder," he said.

On water

Wentworth-Coolidge Mansion viewed from Little Harbor

Ahoy, 'twas a day for boating with me matey yesterday.

Calm seas. A blanket of hot, hot air over the land reached out over the 53-degree ocean water for a mile or two. (We heard that the Isles of Shoals, 8 miles out, were 10 to 15 degrees cooler.) But zipping over the water we could stir up some cool currents of air. Or dip our feet over the sides when we stopped to cast a line idly.

We put the boat in at Rye Harbor at dead low around 1 p.m. Passing through the harbor entrance we watched two guys on the rocks pull up a couple of flounder.

"North or south?" said the captain.

"North," said I.

He turned the bow and said, "We'd better drink those beers now before they get warm." So we had a couple of boat beers, Heineken in a can, while motoring up to New Castle.

"Hear all the traffic?" Yep, Route 1A was getting that Memorial Day weekend rush. On the water we saw a few lobster boats, and four or five sailboats, and a several kayakers.

We slipped through Little Harbor to the Piscataqua River across from the shipyard, then followed the current out past two lighthouses to the sea again, Maine on our left and New Hampshire our right. Then back to the harbor, a two hour tour.

We saw fish on the finder, but they were down. Our surface plugs failed to lure them. In the harbor, Capt. Sue of the Uncle Oscar said a boat had come in recently with lots of cod. She was taking a couple out to Lunging Island with suitcases and supplies. We chatted with a dad and his two kids who had just fished a ledge beyond the Shoals and caught pollock.

We'll hunt for stripers soon. But, for me anyway, fishing is just an excuse to go out on the boat, a pleasant and companionable pursuit under sun and over water. Ah, the smell of fresh bait and Coppertone.

Striped bass angling techniques New Hampshire
Stripers on the Piscataqua

Richard Ray retirement

1977

2007

Final notes in a long, melodic career
Seniors organize retirement party for Richard Ray

By Amy Kane

A retirement party is in the works for a popular teacher who has shared his love of music with so many.

Richard Ray has been director of choral music at Winnacunnet High School since 1973. He has directed 29 school musicals and served as technical director for many other plays and events.

"He has done so much for everyone here for so many years, we wanted to celebrate that," Shane Collins said.

Collins is organizing the party with WHS seniors Allix Rashid and Corinne DiZoglio.

Collins is a senior who worked with Ray this year as an assistant production manager in the Winnacunnet Community Auditorium. He will study theatrical lighting and design at SUNY-Purchase next year; he also works in the production office for Harvard University theaters.

"For four years, he's been right by my side, helping me, teaching me," Collins said.

Ray, who received his formal training in voice and choral music at the University of New Hampshire, has designed and taught a variety of music classes at Winnacunnet, as well as theater technology. He directs the Winnacunnet Chamber Singers, who have taken top prizes at music festivals in Florida, Montreal, New York and Pennsylvania.

Like many students, junior Anthony Grant said Ray has made a big difference in his life.

"If it wasn't for him, I probably would have dropped out of school by now," said Grant, who signed up for a chorus class his freshman year, and discovered his voice.

Grant said getting involved with Chamber Singers "saved me from myself."

This year Grant was ranked as the No. 1 jazz tenor in the state and made the honor roll for the first time in his life.

"Music with Mr. Ray kept me on the straight and narrow," Grant said. "Music is a natural high."

Ray is in tune with his students, said Kristen LaBua, a 2006 Winnacunnet alumna and former Chamber Singer studying elementary education at UNH.

"He was a father figure, a buddy figure. He taught me so much," LaBua said. "He was so approachable, and always willing to drop everything and help."

LaBua now sings with the UNH Concert Choir. She said it's easy and enjoyable because of Ray's emphasis on music theory and sight reading. But that's not all she learned from her favorite teacher.

"He taught me about responsibility — taking responsibility for your actions, for your education," LaBua said. "He taught me to think not only of myself, but of the group."

Ray is also a vocalist and guitarist in The Spectras, an enduring Seacoast-based rock band that has shared a stage with legends such as The Beach Boys, Ray Charles, The Doors and Led Zeppelin. He also performs with his church choir.

Ray lives in North Hampton with his wife, Candice. They have three children — Thom and Andy, who live in Portsmouth, and Allison, who lives in Washington, D.C.

Winnacunnet principal Randy Zito is a longtime friend of Ray. They met in 1976 when Zito arrived at Winnacunnet to teach English. They also worked together as Army Reservists. Both are veterans of the Vietnam War.

"Over the years we worked together, played together, and trained other soldiers together," Zito said. "Dick and I have crawled around on the ground together in snake- and tick-infested Army training sites in far away places.

"This is what I know about Dick Ray. He makes our school a better place," Zito said. "Dick has dedicated his entire public education career to Winnacunnet. Although he is retiring, I hope I can spend more great times with Dick. I personally will miss him."

Zito said Ray has a great sense of humor and is an excellent musician.

"He and I like to golf, but he takes it too seriously sometimes, like when he threw his club and I had to duck," Zito said.

A HIGH NOTE

WHAT: Dick Ray retirement party

WHEN: Thursday, June 7 at 6 p.m. Cash bar; buffet dinner 7 to 8:30, followed by performances

WHERE: Galley Hatch Conference Center, 815 Lafayette Road, Hampton

COST: Tickets $40; limited to 160. E-mail reservations to Shane Collins at drretirement@hotmail.com or call 394-5981 (e-mail preferred).

CURTAIN CALL

The 2007 Winnacunnet High School Spring Concert is Thursday, May 31 at 7 p.m. in the WHS Community Auditorium. Admission is free and the performance will be the last for Ray, who is retiring at the end of the school year.

I scream for a blog carnival

You are invited!

Who: Sweet-toothed bloggers

What: Carnival of Ice Cream
Taste your local ice cream – beach shack, grocery store, homemade, roadside, etc. – and blog about it. Or write anything at all about ice cream. Let me know by linking, commenting or emailing.

When: Now through Memorial Day. I will round up the links and post on Monday. Carnival monthly through summer 2007.

Where: The May edition is here at Atlantic Ave.

Melissa in Maine will host in June. We're looking for volunteers to take the months through September.

Why: An excuse to eat ice cream, write about it and share.

What is a blog carnival? What is ice cream?

History of ice cream

Am I dreaming? The incredible ice cream diet

Please pass this link around and share the sweet flavor of summer.

Telephoto feeder surveillance

Some strange birds we've been getting lately. Couldn't find this one in the Roger Tory Peterson.

Photo
Photo

eNature flashcard: Common thief

Dig

Mary E in flowers, Center Cemetery

I had the chance to lurk around a graveyard yesterday. I will meet a member of the American Legion and some Boy Scouts at Little River Cemetery this afternoon. Story on Sunday.

After an interview with the superintendent at Center Cemetery, I wandered the 16 acres of our town's largest burial ground. I passed the tomb in the old stone wall where they used to keep the bodies in winter until the ground could be dug again.

I met an 80-year-old woman who was on her knees raking a spot in front of her parent's headstones to plant red geraniums. Her daughter was buried there too. She had died in a car accident in California when she was 24, in 1975.

The woman had grown up on a farm on Winnacut Road. The farm is gone and the town has changed since she was young, she said. More people and houses. Loss of tradition. Disrespect, selfishness. People own too many things and are too busy. Children aren't left alone to play.

"But there is much that is good too," she said.

She hoped her surviving daughter would remember to visit this place and plant flowers for her someday.

She told me about a church mission trip she had taken to Africa a few years ago. She wished more people could have that experience, to gain perspective and learn what was important. She could sum up her thoughts about the world, humanity and the meaning of life quite simply.

"Sharing. That's what it's all about, isn't it?"

Dandelion fluff

Crabapple blossoms

Column: Small Pond
Hampton Union, May 22

Demented by spring

The lawn is brown then green, then dotted with yellow dandelions that seem to turn overnight to fluffy seeds and fly away. Once it gets going, spring wastes no time.

Rain-fed and sun-powered, the grass goes crazy. Men begin their season of mowing, like yeomen of yore.

In May, I wander around the yard taking pictures of flowers – daffodils, periwinkle, sweet woodruff, honeysuckle, lady slippers, azalea, foamflower, the white bells of blueberry, lilacs purple and pink. It’s like I’ve never seen color, or petals, before.

Honoré De Balzac wrote: “The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition.”

It all seems that miraculous to me all over again.

We sit by the pond and mallard ducks fall out of the sky on scooped wings and skitter-splash across the surface. They come in twos, quacking. Canada geese visit also, swimming so smoothly the water is their mirror. Facing each other with necks curved, they make a heart. It’s two-by-two in May.

This year we have more red-winged blackbirds than ever, and rose-breasted grosbeaks for the first time. A big pileated woodpecker knocked out noisy Morse code on our old oak tree last week. Passing the kitchen window we do a double take and see a turkey pecking birdseed from the ground below the feeder. So large and strange, it seems to cross the line from the bird category to something else.

One day I took a picture of ferns in their fiddlehead stage, still furled on their stems. Next day the fronds had opened to show the rows of leaves. All around us, I realized, plants are moving, sinking roots, growing leaves, forcing flowers, all so fast. But not quite fast enough for us to see with human eyes if we stand and watch. And I haven’t yet reached the level of obsession where I set up time-lapse photography on the Rosa rugosa.

As I grow older, spring seems more wonderful. I’m wowed. Why is that? After 45 years on earth, why don’t I yawn and say, ho hum, here comes the grass. Hummingbirds back? Whatever.

It’s because I know that time is fleeting. How quickly it passes us by. Eggs laid, chicks hatched, fledglings flown. Then the cycle starts again. There are only so many cycles I will see.

I am lucky to be married to someone equally demented by spring, who will report the first strawberry, dragonfly, tree swallow. I can see us in rocking chairs on the back deck in some future spring, in cardigans and sensible shoes. “Did you hear that, dear?” “Yes, I do believe it’s the mating song of a spring peeper.”

In our pond, toads lay eggs first, followed in month or so by frogs. The toad eggs are now tadpoles. These fat slippery black commas congregate in the warm shallows. They still have gills, and swim by undulating side to side like fish. We can scoop them in our hands. They are amphibians but seem like raw, pure larva of life that might grow up to be anything.

Nature is spilling over the edges in May, ignoring boundaries, as irrepressible as a dandelion.

When I was a child we wove a Maypole each year, on our elementary school playground. Girls passing one way, boys the other, dodging left then right, till the colored ribbons wrapped the pole. Two weekends ago my older daughter went to the prom – boys in their tuxes, girls in their flower-colored dresses.

Last week after school, my younger daughter went out into the field and woods with her girlfriends. They came back with a four-leaf clover and hair tangled with twigs and dandelion fluff from blowing wishes.

How quickly this spring will pass, like all springs. Take pictures. Notice.

Vieux-Montréal

Painter, Rue St. Paul

Old Montréal was our first stop, on Friday afternoon. We dispersed, with the plan to rendezvous at a certain point and a certain time.

I hit the ATM for some Canadian coinage then we bought a gelato. We visited some shops but were not ready for souvenirs yet, less than an hour after we had arrived. Anyway, je me souviens with photos.

Vieux-Montréal

We walked to the Birthplace of Montreal, Pointe-à-Callière, where we visited an archeology museum and had a good guided tour of the layer-cake history of the site.

Fri night: Hard Rock Cafe Montréal, my night as chaperone to enforce the 11 p.m. curfew.

Sat: La Ronde amusement park, night view of the city from Mont Royal.

Sun: Adjudicated performance of the Chamber Singers at Concordia University, lunch and shopping downtown, Olympic Stadium and Biodome, semi-formal dinner dance in restaurant in Vieux-Montréal.

Mon: Bus home with a stop at the amazing Notre-Dame de Montréal Basilica, lunch in Burlington, Vermont, and a tour of the Ben & Jerry's Factory.

Standing with an ice cream cone gazing out over the new spring green of the hills I said, "We're going home now, but I feel like once I start traveling I want to just keep going."

"My mom," said my daughter. "She can fit everything in one little bag and would be happy just wandering around taking pictures."

Photo album: Montreal

Note

Blog on hold till Monday night. I'm off to Montreal with the Winnacunnet Chamber Singers.

Choco loco

Laura making chocolate biscotti

For her student exposition yesterday there was also Double Decker Fudge, Cream Filled Chocolate Pound Cake, Macademia Nut Crunch, Simple Chocolate Cake and Ganache Candies. And this, possibly my favorite:

Cappuccino Mousse

Ingredients
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1/3 cup cocoa powder
3 tbsp butter
2 tsp powdered instant coffee or espresso, dissolved in 2 tsp hot water
2 cups cold whipping cream

1. Combine sweetened condensed milk, cocoa, butter and coffee in a medium saucepan. Cook at low heat, stirring constantly until the butter melts and the mixture is smooth. Remove heat; cool.

2. Beat whipping cream in large bowl until stiff. Gradually fold in chocolate mixture into whipping cream. Spoon into dessert dishes. Refrigerate about 2 hours.

Optional: Add a bit of whipped cream on top and sprinkle with cocoa powder.

My tongue is smiling.

- Abigail Trillin, age four, on finishing a dish of chocolate ice cream, quoted by her father Calvin Trillin in "Alice, Let’s Eat"

Chocolate

Stormy weather

The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition. - Honoré De Balzac

Lilacs again.

Rain today through Sunday, with a coastal flood watch in effect. Batten ye hatches.

An approaching coastal system could combine with astronomical high tides to produce beach erosion and coastal flooding again late Friday and Saturday.

It could be worse. Last year.

Spring piano recital last night at Centennial Hall in stormy weather.

Laura played a piano concerto in C theme, "Fiesta Espana," by Tchaikovski. Anna played Chopin's prelude no. 4, opus 28 – a sad and serious piece we nicknamed "Requiem for Ping," for our goldfish who died a couple of days ago.

Laura's chocolate cookbook project – an eighth grade capstone learning experience, with a self-chosen exploration topic – has consumed massive resources. Time, money, kitchen counter space, grocery store chocolate, adult patience. John is out buying ink for the printer right now. (Plenty of brown.)

Her chocolate work culminates this afternoon in a decadent feast at our house, with teachers and friends. The "our house" aspect of this only hit my radar yesterday late afternoon.

Article, column, cleaning the house, laundry, physical therapy, hair appointment, lacrosse practice, and packing for Montreal trip leaving at the crack o' dawn tomorrow... which of these things gets dropped from the day's sched? (Not blogging.) Gotta run, bye!

Dots

Every Wednesday for a couple of hours after lunch eighth graders travel to area volunteer jobs. It's called service learning. Laura is one of a small group of 13- and 14-year-olds helping at a local preschool.

Today Laura was reading to a little girl named Jenna. Jenna was sitting on her lap while Laura read Cinderella. During a pause Jenna looked up at Laura, who has freckles, and said, "Why do you have polka dots on your face?"

May is lilac here

Lilacs and dew

Since they have not yet invented scratch and sniff blog widgets you are missing the best part of these flowers. They are blooming now on the northeastern side of our humble abode.

Lilacs were first planted in North America at Governor Wentworth's not-so-humble abode in Portsmouth in 1750. Hardy, beloved in spring, and easy to propagate, lilacs soon became ridiculously ubiquitous. They were named New Hampshire's state flower in 1919.

Purple Lilacs: Fragrant Favorites of New Hampshire

I was going to repaint our livingroom but instead I redecorated the blog. Atlantic Ave. is now simpler, cleaner and fairly colorless so that the photos stand out.

Oscar Wilde wrote: Memory ... is the diary that we all carry about with us. I have a quirky and imperfect memory, but I have a blog. Remember when the lilacs bloomed? Oh yes, it was the middle of May.

Poem: Lilacs by Amy Lowell

Lilacs in dooryards
Holding quiet conversations with an early moon;
Lilacs watching a deserted house
Settling sideways into the grass of an old road;
Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom
Above a cellar dug into a hill.

P.S. I just realized the template I chose is almost a duplicate of my best gal pal blogger. Sorry about the copycat, Marie. Great minds (with Typepad) think alike?

High five to Mark at Irish Elk (at first I typed Elf) who is celebrating FIVE YEARS of blogging as of Monday. I tried to leave a congrats message but his comments are a little cranky at the moment. Thanks for making and keeping a distinctive blog abode I love to visit, Mark.

Lax season

You can throw a ball farther and shoot on goal faster and harder with a stick, and that's one of the beautiful things about lacrosse.

From today's Hampton Union sports briefs...

In girls action, the Attack U-15 girls lacrosse team defeated visiting Londonderry, 13-1. Led by the stellar defense of Erin Preisner, Sara Carter and Taylor Midgley — and the goaltending of Lindsey Preston and Marisa Henderson — the team improved to 3-0 for the season.

Goals were scored by Laura Kane (two), Sara Salloway, Ashley Milliken, Carly Gould, Molly Pickard (three), Julia MacVane (three), Lydia Wolter and Lauren Gormer.

Playing well and assisting on many of the goals were Jenny Scharff, Hannah MacQuarrie, Melanie Guerin, Mimi Coppinger and Kaitlyn Osborne.

We're scheduled to face another undefeated team, Concord, this evening at 5:45 p.m. at home in Hampton Falls. But the forecast says there's a chance of severe thunderstorms.

YouTube video: Women's Lacrosse Georgetown v. Notre Dame 2007

More ELacrosse vids

UPDATE: We lost 7-8.

Shorebirds at Hampton Marsh

Semipalmated sandpiper

In today's Hampton Union:

Shorebirds flock to Hampton Beach

By Amy Kane

HAMPTON — People are not the only creatures flocking to Hampton Beach in the warmer months. The beach and the nearby marsh are an important stopover for migrating shorebirds.

In May, sandpipers and plovers that spend winters on the sunny coasts of South America are resting and refueling locally on the way to their summer breeding grounds in the Arctic.

New Hampshire Audubon Society launched a study last summer, funded by a grant from N.H. Fish and Game, to tally shorebirds and document their feeding and roosting areas in the 5,000-acre complex of the Hampton marsh.

Conservation biologist Peter McKinley spent hundreds of hours in a kayak, with a waterproof notebook, paddling along tidal creeks. Local volunteers helped with weekly simultaneous observations.

Last Wednesday, McKinley spoke with members of Seacoast Audubon at its monthly meeting at the Seacoast Science Center in Rye to share his findings and recruit volunteers for this summer.

"When people think of important coastal habitats, they think of Great Bay and Plum Island," he said. "Hampton marsh seems to be a hole in the landscape as far as knowledge, protection and interest."

With 5,000 acres of contiguous salt marsh — as compared to 2,500 fragmented acres in Great Bay — Hampton marsh provides the greatest salt marsh benefits for the state, McKinley said.

Salt marshes are incredibly productive ecosystems, and a nursery for marine animals. Shorebirds are a good conservation target in their own right, and also an indicator of other ecological processes, he said.

Over the tidal cycle, shorebirds will visit the beach shoreline, tidal mudflats, marsh creeks, and the high pools, where they "loaf," preen, and feed on invertebrates, mainly crustaceans, found where water meets sand and mud.

"Shorebirds play the tides," McKinley said. "They go to the most recently exposed areas."

There is a lot of topographical variation in Hampton marsh, offering a menu of habitats, he said. McKinley has found variation in the birds' use of certain marsh creeks. This summer, he will sample the mud from the various creeks to check for diversity and density of invertebrates.

The study has the potential to identify restoration and conservation projects. This could include watershed protection, creating buffer strips, protecting and increasing the number of high pools in the upper marsh, or even building decks for high tide roosting.

"Collaboration is a big part of this. We want to get the information to stakeholders and caring people," he said.

Because of the study, Hampton marsh will likely receive recognition under the Western Hemisphere Shorebird Reserve Network, McKinley said.

FOR THE BIRDS

McKinley is looking for about six more volunteers to help with shorebird counts this summer. For information or to volunteer, contact him at pmckinley@nhaudubon.org or call New Hampshire Audubon at 224-9909, ext. 329.

. . .

Shorebirds: Winging Between Hemispheres

For the poets

Elizabeth Bishop: The Sandpiper
Celia Thaxter: The Sandpiper

Good for the goose

Lately we've had two or four geese in the pond most days. They are not afraid of us.

I had physical therapy today, then a walk around Portsmouth. I ache. Probably from vacuuming Saturday.

I pulled up more of the lamb's ears that have infested my gardens, front and back. A little is nice. A lot is creepy. I think its other name is woolly hedgenettle. I'm not making that up.

I've spent the past hour reading about the horses in the Preakness. Maybe just a field of 8 for this race. Post positions will be drawn late Wednesday afternoon. Street Sense, Hard Spun and Curlin are the ones to beat.

Laura is working on her chocolate cookbook in the kitchen. Anna and two friends are playing Puerto Rico at the diningroom table. John is on his way to Santo Domingo.

I put away winter clothes and brought out summer clothes this afternoon. When all danger of frost is past, plant your linen in your bedroom closet and put your woollens to bed in the sweater boxes.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
- Nadine Stair

Mother hen and chicks

Nick and Anna

A lovely couple on the way to the prom.

The Winnacunnet Junior Prom was held last night. Grand March at 5:30 p.m. behind the high school and prom at Frank Jones Conference Center in Portsmouth.

SeacoastOnline photos: WHS prom

Portsmouth held their prom last night too.

"It was fun to be out," said my husband. "There were limos everywhere."

Mother's Day was pancakes with houseguests, exquisite weather, happy prom stories, a new pair of Muck Boots, a call to my stepmother, a glorious 13-1 lacrosse victory v. Londonderry in our first home game (Laura scored 2), a cappuccino slam ice cream from Lagos, and a visit to meet some chickens on the northern end of Mill Road (where they sell the handmade birdhouses).

Fresh eggs: $2 a dozen. Laura and I are plotting– we'd like to get chickens and have our own little 4-H project.

Mail order: Murray McMurray Hatchery

I didn't do laundry today, or pick up after anyone, and I slept till 8:15 a.m. and yea it was good.

Sunday story: Just let me sleep! Moms talk about what's really important on Mother's Day

A suburban mother's role is to deliver children obstetrically once, and by car forever after.
- Peter De Vries

Woody

Woodpecker in the big old oak tree in front of our house, 1:05 p.m.

Gone With the Breeze tonight

Last chance to see the North Hampton School musical Gone With the Breeze tonight at 7:30 p.m. at Winnacunnet High School auditorium!

Wannabes: "I could play that part!"

The producers of Lone Pine Films.

Midnight and Magnolia pageant, and a possible movie star.

Portsmouth public art ordinance

In today's Portsmouth Herald:

Public art gets city's support
Ordinance mandating cash flow celebrated
By Amy Kane

PORTSMOUTH — A new public art ordinance was hailed on Friday as "an important milestone" in the city's cultural plan.

The remarks by Russ Grazier Jr., president of Art-Speak, the city's cultural commission, came during a forum attended by about 50 local artists, builders and architects, and city residents at the library Friday for a forum on the ordinance.

Passed last summer by the City Council, the ordinance requires 1 percent of the bid or contract price for all new municipal buildings over $2 million and up to $15 million be contributed to the Public Art Trust. City Attorney Robert Sullivan said 90 percent of each contribution goes toward the site generating the funds, with 10 percent set aside for maintenance.

Elizabeth Knies, Portsmouth's new poet laureate, opened the forum by reading her poem, "Darkness/Light." Howard Ben Tré, an award-winning public art sculptor, was the keynote speaker.

Tré shared slides of his large-scale artwork for public spaces including the fountains in Post Office Square in Boston, the plaza for a new federal courthouse in Las Vegas, a pedestrian street redesign for Warrington Town Center in England, and a waterway esplanade in Tacoma, Wash.,where a "water forest" of 20 glass and bronze tubes continually fill with water, overflowing and draining, like the tides.

Public art can change a city, said Tré, enhancing a sense of community and ownership of public space, and integrating art into everyday life.

"People get to enjoy art without going to a museum," Tré said.

Independent TV producer and Portsmouth resident Jen Crompton Marchewka led a panel discussion on the ordinance, followed by a question-and-answer session.

Panelists were Sullivan, Julie Mento of the N.H. State Council for the Arts, city Councilor Christine Dwyer, Tré, Nancy Carmer, the city's economic development manager, and Portsmouth artist Gordon Carlisle.

Sullivan, who wrote the ordinance, described it as a compromise designed to satisfy concerns of the legislators. It includes a definition of "public art," the 1 percent stipulation including exemptions, and the creation of a Public Art Trust.

"I'm very proud of this ordinance and I think it will work well," said Sullivan.

Decisions to expend the funds will ultimately be made by the City Council, with input from an advisory nonprofit agency, a standing public art committee, or an ad hoc committee created for a particular project.

Dwyer said Portsmouth is on the verge of a building boom, public and private, and she hoped the city standards will stimulate private investment in public art as well.

"We have a history where people have cared about the public realm," said Dwyer.

Carmer spoke of the financial impact culture and the arts have on the city's economy. A 2000 study showed $26 million generated by the city's nonprofit arts organizations; it is about $12 million more now, said Carmer.

"It brings business here," said Carmer. "People want to locate where the arts are vital."

Average ordinary

In the seriously weird and awesome movie Donnie Darko, Donnie can spot 'wormholes' of the possible future projecting, accordion-like, from his own and other people's chests.

Lately I've been seeing my own potential future, stretching away from me like a slinky. In that near future, I have gotten things done.

While I was out for a walk today, I could see that other me just ahead. She was thinner, and had more money because she had written more, and she had a good haircut and sneakers that didn't flap when she walked.

She had answered all her emails and returned every phone call. She had scheduled maintenance on her car, and vacuumed the french fries from the seat crannies.

Her children had everything they needed and loved her. Her husband felt like she was paying enough of the right sort of attention to him, and leaving him alone enough too.

She had written a book.

She had mailed her sister's birthday gift. She had made a couple of wedding photo albums for her other sisters. She had written a thank you note to the friend who had the Easter party.

She had been on vacation in an eco-tent on St. John's. She had invested for retirement. She had weeded the flower garden. She had planned a party. She had been grocery shopping.

I couldn't catch her.

Click to listen: today's theme song.

The good life: dog version

Fern babies

Ferns are growing.

Along the stone wall in front of our house.

Scenic route

Vinca, from Latin vincire, 'to bind or fetter'; periwinkle in bloom

Yesterday I finally took a ride to the DMV in Epping to renew my driver's license, two months late. They've zoomed in the camera since my last photo and my head now fills the picture hugely, like the man in the moon.

The DMV lady on duty was not happy I had filled out part of the form in pink pen. She was listening to country music about Jesus, which sounded very exotic to my ear.

An older woman was asked to remove her jaunty brimmed cap because, in the official driver's license photo, "no hats."

Afterwards she sat down next to another older woman who was waiting to take a driving test and said, "The reason I wear a hat is because I don't have much hair left."

A woman came in with a toddler and asked if I was still writing for the paper because she had something she wanted to publicize.

Isn't it funny, I thought quietly inside my head, when people who don't read the paper want to get things in it. They believe it is a good medium for disseminating information but are too busy to take in anybody else's shared information.

Do people like the busy woman with the toddler ever stop and think, "What if everybody is like me? Then what good is it to publicize that fundraiser?"

After the DMV, John and I took a ride a little further west, into Brentwood and Raymond. There was a pale pastel haze of tiny tree flowers and new leaves up high near the sun and blue sky.

We saw a road sign, "Scenic Nursery, 10 miles." We thought that meant a nursery that was scenic.

Constituting or affording pleasing views of natural features

But its name was Scenic Nursery. And it afforded pleasing views of natural features too, like a small river running along one side.

We bought a couple different kinds of tomato plants – Celebrity and Red Grape – and green pepper plants and hot cherry peppers.

We walked the grounds, in sunshine. It was 85˚. The cheeks of the garden workers were flushed and rosy.

Gorgeous selection of trees. Up close I could see that the bark of a young weeping willow is a pale and lovely green. I never knew.

Signs of spring

Column: Small Pond
Hampton Union, May 8

Many signs of spring

Spirits lift when we spy the sign at Dodge's Agway in Hampton Falls: "Chicks are here." It's spring on Route 1.

When children first learn to read, parents are treated to a running recitation of road sign verbiage from the back seat. Some of us, even when we graduate to the front seat, can't stop our compulsive reading of the lettered landscape.

At least we're a little quieter about it now. Though my daughters and I do play a driving game in which we read the signs out loud in voices varying in volume, expressiveness, even accents, depending on the way the sign seems to want to be read.

For example: "Fireworks" is brief, explosive, and loud. A sign reminding us not to litter has a gently nagging, slightly whiney tone. "SALE!" can be blustery, conning, excited, sincere or sarcastic, depending on the context.

We have endless fun with various snooty versions of "Welcome to Maine: The Way Life Should Be."

We wonder if we should read the sign for the Slumber Manor Motel in North Hampton in a relaxed and sleepy voice, as suggested by "slumber" or with a hoity-toity British accent, due to the word "manor."

Currently the Slumber Manor Motel advertises special seasonal rates on one side of their sign and, on the other, shares the simple sublime sentiment, "Ahh, spring!"

When I read that on Thursday I said, "Amen, sistah," figuring it was owner Joanne who had the inspiration. (Call me sexist but I assume women are more in tune with the seasons.)

I decided to go on a hunt for more Route 1 signs of spring. And I do mean signs.

Here is a sampler of what I found in the Hampton Union readership zone, from the Massachusetts border in Seabrook moving north (like spring itself) to the North Hampton/Rye border.

Feel free to read them out loud in the voices you deem appropriate.

In Seabrook, the Pet City sign made me a little itchy: "Pond fish in. Time to start flea & tick control."

Seabrook Car Wash: "Coupon Books Great for Mom's Day."

Pal's Pub: "Let's go Red Sox."

Fantasy Fireworks: "Spring Special Select Kits."

Laundromat, one word: "Spring."

Hardware store: "Spring is here, so is Scott's 4 step."

American Traditions: "We can make your patio dreams come true."

On the common in Hampton Falls: "Applecrest opens May 5, plants, hangers, pies, donuts, now hiring."

Fleurs de Margrit Permanent Botanicals reminds: "Mother's Day is May 13. Spring gifts jewelry."

An intriguing sign if, like me, you thought Napoleon was a dead French general... Alternative Energy Stoves and Fireplaces: "Saturday Cookout with Napoleon, Vermont Castings and Broilmate."

Sweet Jenny's Ice Cream: "Help wanted."

The Walk-In Closet Clothing Consignment: "Now accepting spring wear."

Lamie's Inn and Tavern/The Old Salt: "Warm weather is on the way/Dine outside on a sunny day."

Eight Winds Day Spa: "Prom season! Waxing, nails, hair, makeup."

Oh dear, Wickes Lumber forgot to change the calendar: "April showers bring new kitchens."

Regal Limousine Service builds seasonal anxiety: "Yikes! Fall weddings booking fast."

North Hill Nursery: "Spring is here. Fresh nursery stock. Geraniums."

I include one more, a little north of my self-imposed border, in Rye. After my long drive and hard work notating the signs of spring, I figured I deserved this one.

Lago's Lone Oak Ice Cream: "NOW OPEN."

I recommend the black raspberry chip in a sugar cone.

. . .

Blog note: The chicks at Dodge's Agway have all been sold as of Sunday, but the next batch is due in at the end of May. Keep an eye on the sign.

Breezy NHS musical this weekend

'Breeze' will blow in to WHS: No. Hampton School musical this weekend
By Laura Mellow

NORTH HAMPTON — Forget E! True Hollywood Story, you need look no further than North Hampton School if you want to see the real underbelly of show business.

This Friday and Saturday at 7:30 p.m. at the Winnacunnet High School auditorium, North Hampton School students are putting on "Gone with the Breeze," a musical that tells the comical story of the making of the movie sequel to "Gone with the Wind." Whether an avid theater fan or someone who thinks it's about time they made the sequel, "Gone with the Breeze" is sure to be a good time.

"It's amazing what we do for a middle school musical and performance," said Assistant Principal and co-director Tara Rossi of the students' abilities.

The play showcases acting, singing and dancing talents of Grades 6-8 students.

"The whole play is really up to date and modern so everyone's having fun with it and getting into their characters," said eighth-grader Ashley Maclaughlin.

The play tells the story of how two Hollywood producers, played by Laura Kane and Calvin Lord, struggle to rein in their diva starlet, Peggy Tempest, who plays Jezebel O'Toole in their new movie, "Gone with the Breeze."

Eighth-grader Konnar Johnson portrays the actress playing the part of Jezebel. Johnson has participated in the school musicals for the past three years and fortunately has enough experience to avoid getting confused by the play within the play. She does expect a little nervousness right before the curtain opens though.

"It kind of feels like you're gonna barf (before the show starts), but when you're on stage it's a whole different thing," she said.

Fiesta no siesta

Seventh grade guides and adventurers welcome visitors to the Mexican rainforest they constructed for Family Fiesta Night, held Friday, May 4 at North Hampton School.

Students host Fiesta Night
By Amy Kane

NORTH HAMPTON — Sombreros were in fashion and learning was all fun and games at the third annual Family Fiesta Night this past Friday at North Hampton School.

Seventh-graders shared their Spanish language skills and cultural knowledge in booths set up in the gym. In the cafeteria, families dined on chicken or beef rolled tacos, fruit and salad. The spring book fair was set up in a nearby hallway.

"The idea is to take Hispanic culture to the community and celebrate the second language of our school and our country," said Spanish teacher Brad Johnston.

Seventh-graders chose an area of special interest such as food, sports, history, art, dance, then researched and presented their findings in a creative, fun way to fellow students, parents, school staff and friends.

Under a large sign that read "Comida Exotica," Julia Burns and Jillian Sarazen offered homemade churros, guacamole, salsa, marzipan, sangria and other flavors of Spain and Mexico.

Visitors were invited to dance — vamos a bailar — by four senoritas in flouncy skirts. Kearney Dewing, Mimi Coppinger, Ashley Milliken and Courtney Merrill demonstrated flamenco, salsa and the Mexican hat dance.

Tarps, crepe paper, plants and stuffed animals from home were items that helped the costumed Calvin Lord, John Damianos, Daniel Vincent and Sam Quirk create a Mexican rainforest for visitors.

Casey Dupuis, Emma Hayden and Savanna Balch were trivia game show hosts in big straw sombreros.

Kids could win prizes tossing a beisbol, completing a scavenger hunt, breaking a piñata, or daring to crawl through a labyrinth. Bright colors, loud music and the enthusiasm of the kids made the evening cheerful and upbeat.

Perhaps

Ode: Intimations of Mortality from Recollections of a Walk with My Daughter and My Camera in Little River Cemetery One Mile from Home This Afternoon

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
And while the young lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound,
To me alone there came a thought of grief:
Who was Lillian Hillbom Rogers?

(Apologies to William Wordsworth.)

Game called on account of women

This story has it all:

Muslim-Christian soccer tie scrapped after sex row

Muslim and Christian leaders in Oslo scrapped a soccer match meant to foster understanding between religions Saturday after the imams refused to play a team that included women priests.

Unholy row at clergy soccer game

Muslim Imams had refused to play against women because it went against their beliefs about close physical contact with the opposite sex.

But when the church decided to drop its women players, the priests' team captain walked out in protest.

The game was meant to be an enjoyable end to a day-long conference in Oslo.

Members of the two faiths had been discussing ways of encouraging greater inter-faith dialogue at the "Shoulder to Shoulder" event.

Norwegian soccer game between priests, imams cancelled over female factor

Fykse Tveit said that, despite the differences on the field, "one very good lesson we've learned from this is that when we co-operate, we also enter each others boundaries, and that's a positive thing."

Off stage

Winnacunnet Drama Club

Last night we attended the Seventh Annual 10 Minute Plays – written, directed, acted, produced by the kids in the drama club.

My daughter Anna (red sweater) played a Rye homemaker working undercover for the CIA in "The Spy Who Mothered Me."

We won our U-15 lacrosse game against Bow today, making the hour drive well worth it. Laura and I got pumped up with the Wonder Woman mix on the way to the game. I made it for her for Christmas; it's on my iPod.

Saturday Laura (2nd from top, with select band and chorus kids, and teachers) sang in the New Hampshire Music Educators Southeast District Music Festival in Dover.

Festival Alleluia • Kyrie • The Battle o