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October’s Modus Operandi
It’s a glorious Saturday in eastern Massachusetts. The sky is a shade of blue that only exists in October. The sunshine cuts a swath of warmth through the cool, autumn air. All while the local wildlife runs amok.
The assorted fauna isn’t fooled by the azure sky, candy-colored leaves, and fragile warmth. They understand Mother Nature’s cypher and heed her warning. Winter is but a northerly gale away.
As I sit on the deck overlooking the yard, there are dozens upon dozens of birds flitting about. Some are migrating south in groups while those who live here year-round declare their territorial rights with sharp warning calls. The blue jays are the most insistent while the robins seem to be content stopping for a snack and moving on.
The squirrels and chipmunks frantically dart across the lawn and pass among the tree branches with acrobatic alacrity. They bark, screech, and chirp at each other from the treetops. Eavesdropping from my chair, I wonder how much of the chatter is argument and how much is planning.
The sun will set at 6:11 PM. The menagerie only have a few hours to finish what they planned for today. The robins will be off to their next destination further south. The squirrels will hunker down in their nests. And one of these days, the chipmunks will go underground for a night that lasts until spring.
It’s half past three o’clock. Suddenly, I need a sweater. The sun has already fallen behind the trees. While its light remains, its warmth has quickly slipped away. A week ago, the aroma from barbecue grills filled the air at this time of day. In another week it will be the woodsmoke from neighboring hearths.
To every thing there is a season. Today I witnessed the turn.
The racket out back (sound on)
October 10, 2026
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This Weather’s for the Birds
This weekend’s nor’easter ruffled some feathers.
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September Eve
A red squirrel waits for autumn Last call for August
Take that last sip of summer
Fall will drive you home
Find a muse in your mailbox:
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Blow Bonnie Breeze
Bostonians:
Lash down your nearest Scot’s kilt!
It’s about to get even wilder out there.
June 18, 2026, 2-8pm EDT
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A Rising Tide
Gratitude, Gothenburg, Sweden, photo by Sail Training International Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. As of today, I have lived half my life without him.
I’m not writing this for sympathy or condolences, rather, I am writing to share what half a lifetime of trying to understand my grief has taught me.
A lot has happened in my family during the intervening years since my father’s death. There have been births, graduations, marriages, milestone birthdays, more births, and, alas, more death.
All of these events have helped me focus on being grateful for the people I’ve had and still have in my life and the simple joys that surround me. Searching for things to be grateful for was a defensive strategy at first, but, over time, practicing gratitude became a reflex.
Slowly I realized that all the self-ravaging I undertook in the name of grief didn’t improve a single circumstance or ameliorate a moment’s pain or sadness. Now when the emotional sea becomes too choppy, I change tack and set a course for gratitude.
Grief has the power to alter us, but not the means to determine the form that alteration takes. That’s up to us. And it’s not an easy choice to make. How do we move forward without feeling like we’re leaving our loved one behind? For my father, it’s by remembering that, because I carry him in my memory and my heart, he is always with me. That and I have one of his dimples, a need for progressive lenses, and his swagger.
I am smiling today because, for the first half of my life, I had the best father on earth. Then, from that moment on, I’ve had the best father in heaven. How lucky am I?
If you are also missing someone, I recommend reading the following poem by Henry van Dyke. It has been a great comfort to me over the years.
Gone From My Sight
by Henry van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
And that is dying...
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Not Coolatta, Bobby
US Secretary of Health and Human Services, RFK Jr., has Dunkin’ in his sights. Too much sugar, he says. Ya think? Massachusetts Governor Healey posted her reply:
From our cold, dead hands, Junior. Keep in mind most Massholes’ hands are cold from holding a Dunkin’ Iced Regular all winter. We’re highly caffeinated and ready for anything.
His timing is impeccable. Today is the 256th anniversary of the Boston Massacre. On behalf of the Dunkin’ devoted in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts… Bring it.
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A Lion In Winter
A lion called March,
with snow in his shaggy mane,
stalks my hope for spring. -
Relative Measurements
Winter storm Fern did not finish her tour of the US without visiting New England. It snowed all day yesterday and overnight. This morning I opened the curtains to discover…
We got almost a Fit of snow! 🚗❄️
A Honda Fit, that is. *snort*
Yeah, I’m not even remotely sorry.
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A Muse at Christmas, December 25: The Company You Keep
It’s Christmas Night. The twenty-four-day countdown of Advent has finished. Now the twelve days of Christmas are underway. I hope you enjoyed this year’s Muse at Advent series. It was a pleasure to write, and I appreciate your spending time here reading my stream of consciousness. Before I leave you to enjoy your Christmas night, allow me to share one more Yuletide musing.
Christmas cookie and candy tins for the fam. December 25, 2025
Today was filled with good food enjoyed with family and friends that have become family. Thoughtful gifts were exchanged and deeply appreciated. And there was so much laughter, I brought some home with me. It was a very good day.
After we enjoyed dessert, some sat around the dining table and talked about everything from book recommendations to cornhole boards. Others watched football on TV and bemoaned the poor broadcast coverage.
As I took a moment to look around and appreciate the assembled company, I noticed that everyone was relaxed and at ease. That’s when I heard a little voice in my head say, “This is the best gift you could ever ask for.” Amen.
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A Muse at Advent, December 24: Feeling Feasty
So many of our holiday celebrations center around food. The meals we share with friends and family at Christmas are the wellspring of memories that we carry with us and share with the subsequent generations.
Open Door number 24 if you’re feeling peckish.
December 24, 2025
This is it! The big night is here. It’s Christmas Eve!
All of the shopping, baking, parties, and wrapping are done. Tonight, we’ll enjoy a festive meal with friends and family, perhaps attend a midnight service, and hang our stockings. Children everywhere hope Santa will bring them their fondest wish while grownups reflect on the gift of Salvation. It’s a big night. But first, we eat.
Whether you prepare an elaborate Feast of the Seven Fishes or order your favorite takeout, Christmas Eve meals launch the festivities which carry into the feast day of the Nativity of the Lord. Every family has its own tradition that they enjoy. Sometimes it’s passed on to the next generation, and sometimes new traditions are born and take off. Dinner on Christmas Eve is an integral part of the celebration.
I asked my husband what his Italian family did for Christmas Eve. His uncle owned a pizza place in Queens, NY, and made pizzas for the whole family. That sounds like a lot of fun! I can imagine the smell of fresh dough and tomato sauce. The warmth from the kitchen combined with laughter and conversation must have been intoxicating. His uncle’s generosity and talent made for an evening to remember.
Meanwhile, here in Massachusetts, my father brought home Chinese food from his friend’s restaurant in Boston’s Chinatown. The cuisine was authentic. There was nothing else like it and we looked forward to it eagerly. While sitting in traffic, Dad would sometimes “sample” an hors d’oeuvre. He called it his delivery fee! His friend learned to double the order of Dad’s favorite treat so they’d survive the trip. We laughed at the half empty container when he unpacked the bag.
The memories we gather from these meals while in the on-deck circle for Christmas, often turn out to be our fondest. The gathering is usually smaller and the atmosphere more relaxed than Christmas Day. On Christmas itself, meal preparations are ongoing while wrapping paper is gathered up and everyone gets dressed and goes to Mass. There’s not much time to breathe before the guests begin to arrive. Tonight, while you eat your fish or low mein, absorb the moments; they are the next stitches in the tapestry of your Christmas memories.
We’ll be dining with my mother tonight. I asked her what she’d like to eat. We ran through a list of delicious options from Thai takeout to meatloaf. It all sounded good to her. When I asked what she really, really wanted, she said, “Honestly, I don’t care what we eat. All I want is your company.” On this Christmas Eve, indecision may keep us hungry, but rest assured, our hearts are full.
Merry Christmas, friends.
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