Notes from Maine - 2025/08/17
Mom is on her way to Costco with Erin. She just has a short list of things she’s looking for, but Mom hardly ever passes up a trip to Costco. Technically, Mom has dual citizenship (United States & Costco), but her allegiance has never strayed. Erin drives a compact crossover SUV, so I’m sure that Mom won’t try to buy more than a few hundred pounds of horse carrots.
We went to the camp yesterday. The big rudbeckia (black eyed susan) near the door looked nearly dead the other day. It was all dried out and wilted. This time there were a few green leaves and a flower or two that appeared alive. Mom dumped a few gallons of water on it to perk it up. Albert swam and I worked on the gazebo power. We’ve made good progress this year.
Most of the week was dedicated to fence work here. I have people coming to do some fencing tomorrow and I had to clear all around. They were supposed to come in September but called to see if they could bump up the schedule. I’m a big fan of accelerated schedules. It meant dropping almost everything else and focusing for a few days on clearing a bunch of brush. This afternoon I’ll see if I can get a chainsaw running long enough to take out a couple of stumps. In April of 24 a tree took out a chunk of fence and part of my roof. The work this week will erase the last of that damage.
I already feel bad for the horses. While the fence work is underway, they’ll be trapped in the barn. I’ll rig up a small turnout when appropriate. Lilly (little filly) isn’t all that easy to contain. Even when the electric fence is on, she doesn’t hesitate to push her way under a line to get where she wants to go. Mom was painting the back of the garage the other day and Lilly would frequently come over to help. Maybelle (Lilly’s mother) doesn’t stress at all. She lets her little baby be as independent as she wants to be. A temporary paddock that’s Lilly-proof might not be easy to achieve. We’ll see.
The crickets keep reminding me that summer is almost over. I need to get hay in the barn and go down my list of warm-weather chores to be sure that everything is finished. Meanwhile, it’s still blistering hot and there’s no rain in sight. When I mowed the other day, the dust cloud was suffocating. I had to stop the mower, close my eyes, and wait for it to clear. What do you see when you close your eyes? I’ve always suspected that I see less than other people. Talking to my sister-in-law, I described it looking at a drawing on vellum against a black background. In my imagination, images are see-through and more defined by ideas than visuals. Does that make any sense? I can’t summon a full-color, detailed picture in my head. When I draw, I’m not copying my imagination. I’m forming lines that look right and erasing the ones that don’t. Wouldn’t it be amazing to slip into someone else’s brain for a moment and experience the world through their senses?
For audio, I get the whole thing in my head. With no effort at all, I can imagine the full score of a song, playing at full volume in an endless loop. For example, for the past month or so I’ve had the theme song for ER going nonstop. Maybe it’s a really great song, or maybe it’s because my Mom watches three or four episodes each night. I wake up with the song in my head. I spend the day trying to organize my thoughts around the swell of the keyboard’s melody. It has those strange electronic violin slices that remind me of Kate Bush. As the tempo and mood change from soaring hope to dramatic rhythm, the instrumentation changes as well. One section is synthesizer and the next orchestral—the balance between the technology and the humanity that defines a good ER. I’ve thought too much about this theme song. I’ll be glad when my brain moves on to a different obsession.
It’s time to go get a chainsaw running.
Maybe that will drown out the crickets, but it will never drown out the songs in my head.
