In May of this year, a game warden brought a 4 day old albino porcupine to the Center for Wildlife. Because she was sickly and needed lots of tending, she became quite used to humans and it was decided that she should remain at the Center as an "educational ambassador." This holiday card was done by Jeannie Brett.

I haven't had a Christmas tree for years, mainly because I'm too tired at the end of the semester. But this year, inspired by Edna, I got a beauty! See picture below. It's the kind of tree that e.e. cummings and Marilyn Monroe and Albert Einstein would have loved. Maybe do love. Look at those ghost lights glowing in the window. . .

The ghost of the Christmas tree looking in the window. . .

Twilight on this part of the river specializes in
blues pulled straight out of deep dream. . .

from The New Yorker July 1, 1939

I am still cleaning out the room was used to be the guest room and then became the junk room.
Nearly done! And when it's done, its official name will be The Room of the Blue Hedgehog in honor of a picture I found in there of, natch, a blue hedgehog, done by a friend's child when he was in the 4th grade. Yes, it seems to me that everyone needs a hedgehog room (especially if one has so many pets they can't really have a hedgehog. . .)

One of the joys of this clean-up is finding lost treasure. This appeared in the New Yorker in 1939.
I have always loved it. A psychology professor gave this to our class. A mother overheard her young child talking to himself and wrote this down, presumably from behind a door. I don't think the child knew anyone could hear him. Even as irked as he is, he does manage to add some hilarious little touches. He'll remember to put the lid on the garbage can! But even better, the panda, the marble. Oh, yes. And the noonday sun. . .

He will just do nothing at all,
He will just sit there in the noonday sun,
And when they speak to him, he will not answer him,
Because he does not care to.
He will stick them with spears and put them in the garbage.
When they tell him to eat his dinner, he will just laugh at them.
And he will not take his nap, because he does not care to.
He will not talk to them, he will not say nothing,
He will just sit there in the noonday sun.
He will go away and play with the panda.
He will not speak to nobody, because he doesn't have to.
And when they come to look for him, They will not find him,
Because he will not be there.
He will put spikes in their eyes and put them in the garbage,
And put the cover on.
He will not go out in the fresh air or eat his vegetables
Or make wee-wee for them, and he will get thin as a marble.
He will not do nothing at all.
He will just sit there in the noonday sun.

This is for my Moleskine project. . .

Snow crystals, fingerprints, kisses, each one different. . .

First snow early December

These were the last flowers to come from the garden. Just hours before, literally, these flowers were still growing outside. . .

"The wind has. . .

"The wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away and the trees stand." --e.e.cummings

So now I can see the river again! Fortunately, the river refused to go waltzing off with the crazy, crazy wind. And my beautiful boat is now put away for the winter. I rowed at dusk on Sunday to the launch area, accompanied by a harbor seal -- the water all rosy from the sunset, the temperature 50 degrees. Now I'm going to have to rely on daydream to travel the shining water. Lucky for me -- one of my best talents, daydreaming.

The Angel's New Hat

Went out rowing today for two hours. The wind was a bit frisky but the weather was warm -- well, warm for November 21st. About 50 degrees. And the river, gorgeous. The second best surprise was rowing out to the Memorial Bridge and finding it had reopened. The best surprise was playing hide and seek with a harbor seal the whole time I was out on the water.

Cosmos, zinnias, marigolds, nasturtiums, spinach. . .

November zinnia. . .I've covered the flowers twice when the temps got too close to freezing. Am NOT complaining. Couldn't be happier, actually, that I still have a garden in November.

Plates full of diamonds. Or fortune tellers' globes. . .

Rained for a solid day and night. I was out at 10 pm bailing the boat. Good thing. She was very nearly full. But look at the plates full of diamonds that I found everywhere this morning!

New pal

My newest pal. Not clear to me whether the mouse is male or female so for now, it lives in its own glass house. But it likes to sit on my shoulder while I write. Tiny whiskered muse. . .

Mouse with Mouse

Home

5:00 pm -- already dark. Just came in from the river and a two hour row in 65 degree weather. I watched the wind pull an oak leaf off a branch and then the leaf drifted peacefully down and floated across the reflection of its own tree. . .

Sad PS

The possum died, but not before she had a scrumptious full plate of cat food. She had a safe, warm place for her last bit of time on earth. I buried her in the back yard in a nest of golden leaves, in a place where the sun first touches the yard as it rises. Poetic but ridiculous since possums are nocturnal. Oh well.

ONE OF THE MANY REASONS I LOVE WINTER

The river's always right there, though foliage screens into invisibility late May through early November. My part of Kittery still hasn't had a hard frost so we've held on to flowers and leaves and wits a bit longer this year. Now the trees are starting to think it's time to let go. Late afternoon, I am wonderfully surprised--as I am every year--by sunset light glittering right over the water into my window. Not a great picture but still, you get the idea. One of the many reasons I love winter. It returns to me the river.

Center for Wildlife today. Got to visit the three squirrels I raised. They were in an outdoor cage, sitting up on high shelves. Their tails fluffed up behind them like autumn clouds. Eating acorns. Three beauties! Soon to be released back into the woods. They started out so scrawny and broken and are now nothing but beautiful. And I did see the release of Great Horned Owl who'd been at the Center since July. Oh, yeah. Amy let go and that owl was off into evening in one big happy hurry!

This isn't my picture but nevertheless, the bathtub possum could be this possum's sister. . .