Blizzard or Not, Here We Come!

Snow days are not unusual in February, but two blizzards in one month will cause a media frenzy, stop cars, trucks, trains and planes, and make any travel except by snowshoe almost impossible. Valentine’s Day, however, falls in the middle of February, and I believe it is imperative that we celebrate love in a big way. I also believe my Valentine is a magician who makes the impossible seem inevitable, so we did manage to fly out of Chicago and into Boston on Friday the thirteenth and drive out to Worcester, the snowiest city in the nation, and attend Winter Homecoming at the College of the Holy Cross before driving northeast to Bath just minutes before another blizzard hit Boston. Miraculously, at 6:30 p.m. we sat down for a Valentine’s Day dinner at Solo Bistro in Maine’s City of Ships! What a wild ride, and isn’t it funny that we were not the only crazy optimists to brave the frozen highways and skyways in the name of love! Every seat was taken on Friday night’s American flight, and one man boarded the plane with a dozen flowers in his hand. Later, at Logan airport, I saw that young man give the flowers to a young woman who was waiting for him at baggage claim.  All those strong winds and cold snow could not stop Cupid’s arrow! 

Truth be told, my Valentine and I were looking forward to meeting a creative band of people on Monday, February 16^th, at the grand opening of The Mustard Seed Bookstore and Tea Shop in Bath. I was especially eager to meet the owner, Julie Shea, because I had read about her plan to reinvent The Bath Book Store in a new space. Before I even met her, Julie Shea reminded me of Kathleen Kelly, the gentle, but determined owner of The Shop Around The Corner in You’ve Got Mail, one of my all time favorite movies!

On Saturday, when we arrived in Bath, we couldn’t help but notice the walls of snow lining all the roads and covering most of the sidewalks. The City of Ships looked remarkably like a scene out of Walt Disney’s Frozen or Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. Many of the doorways were barely visible from the street, but the snow covered rooftops stood tall and glistened in the evening light. On the up side, the snow had transformed Bath into a Winter Palace. On the down side, more than a few events would be cancelled because of the weather. I wondered if The Mustard Seed would cancel their opening day celebration. Julie Shea must have read my mind because she sent out a Facebook blast: Snow or not, The Mustard Seed would open on schedule! I could hear that Kathleen Kelly voice humming over the Internet chatter! For over a month I had been following the progress of Julie and Mike Shea’s labor of love. Supported by her associate Susan Shipsey and encouraged by their daughters, Julie and Mike transformed 74 Front Street into the coziest bookstore and teashop in Maine! On Monday morning, the day after Bath narrowly missed another blizzard, Julie, along with friends and family, turned the key and unlocked the door of the Mustard Seed. God and Mother Nature must listen to the prayers of Mainers!

Julie Shea with her daughter, Breelin

 Of course, there was no shortage of snow on February 16^th, but inside Bath’s shop around the corner there was a glass case filled with freshly baked scones, a side table covered with an assortment of teas, and a wall decorated with dozens of tea cups. Simply stated, the Mustard Seed smelled delicious, and everyone who entered wanted to sit and stay for a while, but first they had to choose a teacup and just the right tea to savor the moment!

Joe and I roamed around the shop for a good fifteen minutes before sitting down to drink tea. I noticed the section for Maine authors first, and I had to pick up a copy of Olive Kitteridge to hold in my hands. Maine is spelled out in big birch letters on the back wall, and the nature books seemed to call Joe over to browse. I spent some quality time among the poetry books looking for my favorite poet, Billy Collins, an alumnus of the College of the Holy Cross, a two term United States Poet Laureate, and the author of “Snow Day.” How could he not be my personal favorite! In an article in The New York Times, Bruce Weber dubbed Billy Colllins “the most popular poet in America” largely because of his witty, conversational style. Weber went on to say, however, that Collins’ wit is only the lure to attract our attention so he can share with us a serious observation. At The Mustard Seed there is an old fashioned typewriter with a stack of library due date cards next to it. Those cards seem to be inviting us to sit down and type an idea. Julie may be a new bookstore owner, but she is experienced in the ways of teaching language arts, and she knows how to encourage us all to read more! Instead of asking me to fill out a form and place it in a suggestion box, Julie asked me to share my ideas about books that would be good for the shop via email. I quickly agreed to send her the titles of a few poetry anthologies by Billy Collins. Fulfilling that promise let me recommend two collections of poems that will help keep your imagination fully alive until spring: Questions About Angels (1991) and Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems (2001). As fate and Bath would have it, I think Julie Shea and Billy Collins are friends in spirit because they share the same passion: a love for reading. One of my favorite poems in Questions About Angels is “First Reader” because it reminds us all of our first encounter with the world of stories:

            I can see them standing politely on the wide pages

            that I was still learning to turn,

            Jane in a blue jumper, Dick with his crayon-brown hair,

            playing with a ball or exploring the cosmos

            of the backyard, unaware they are the first characters,

            the boy and girl who begin fiction.

I didn’t “look” for Dick and Jane at The Mustard Seed last Monday, but I did see a little boy about three years old with big blue eyes in between stacks of books. He was holding a blue balloon that almost matched his eyes, and he was trying very hard to tell me something. His words were not as clear as his gesture. He was offering me his balloon as a gift. It was opening day at The Mustard Seed, and he desperately wanted to share the wonder! At that moment, I was reminded of how important the gift of reading truly is and always will be. If we could read tea leaves, they would tell us that Julie Shea and Susan Shipsey have launched a great ship that will carry us to beautiful places and bring us back home with more stories to share.

On opening day, The Mustard Seed was brewing lots of tea for two  (I spied a young couple at a corner table), and tea for five (I spied a group of high school students at the big table by the window), and Julie even offered a cup of tea to the U.P.S. delivery man who arrived with a dolly loaded with boxes of new books. Sadly, the U.P.S. cannot stop to sip tea from a china cup, but Julie told the delivery man she would get some thermal cups to go for next time! At the end of the blustery, joyful day, Julie Shea probably went directly home and fell into bed, but I like to imagine that before she turned off the lights at 74 Front Street and locked the front door of her cozy new bookstore, she took a moment to twirl around the room with her daughters just like Kathleen Kelly used to do with her mother, Cecilia. Mothers and daughters deserve to twirl and dance, especially if they keep bookstores open for reading!

From behind the counter, Megan Shea and Olivia Shipsey help their moms open The Mustard Seed!

           

Clear as a Bell and Other Four Letter Words

I heard Paul Revere’s bell on New Year’s Eve, and I looked up to see if I could spy the bell ringer, but my eyes could only see Old Glory waving from the top of Bath’s City Hall. It was a beautiful day to hear the sweet sound of liberty. The Paul Revere & Son foundry in Massachusetts cast 398 bells from 1792 to 1828 and 23 of those bells can still be found in Maine, but only four of the 23 were cast before Paul Revere died in 1818. Bath’s historic bell was cast in Boston in 1802, which makes it one of the four, a valuable part of a powerful American legend.

In a 2005 commencement speech at Vassar College, Tom Hanks, a living American icon, spoke poetically about our planet’s need for HELP and HOPE, both four letter words. I read his speech in The New York Times, and I quote it whenever I feel the need for crazy optimism and unflinching courage: “Take 100 musicians in a depressed port city in Northern England, choose John, Paul, George, and Ringo and you have Hey Jude. Take a hundred computer geeks in Redmond, Washington, send 96 of them home, and the remainder is called Microsoft.” College graduations usually remind us of the immense change that can occur over a four-year period of time, and Tom Hanks was painfully aware of the dramatic change that molded the Class of 2005. This was the class that came of age in the aftermath of 9/11. A consummate performer, Hanks opened his remarks by introducing a computer-generated solution to gridlock on Southern California freeways: remove four out of every 100 cars and the freeways will flow again. Hanks suggested we call this change “The Power of Four.”

As fate and Bath would have it, there is a connection between Tom Hanks and Paul Revere. It’s the power of four. There are four bells in Maine that were made by Paul Revere, the Boston silversmith who took a midnight ride in 1775 to alert the Minute Men that the British were coming, and I believe his bells still send a message of hope. The Revere bell in Bath is especially unique because it is the only one of the four that is found in the belfry of a city hall, not a church. One Revere bell is at the Christ Church of Gardiner, another is at the First Parish Unitarian Church in Kennebunk, and a third is at Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church in Damariscotta Mills. The fourth bell, the bell in Bath, took the road less traveled and that made all the difference!  

I believe Bath's bell is celebrated more because Maine’s Cool Little City reveres history more than most communities. Bells in America have always symbolized freedom, and The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere will always be a call for courage under fire. Ironically, in 1803, Bath’s bell chimed from the spire of the North Church on the northeast corner of High and Centre, not unlike the Old North Church depicted in Longfellow’s poem. When the congregation of the North Church built its Winter Street Church, the bell was moved to the Old Town Hall at the northeast corner of Centre and Water, and in 1929, one of the darkest years in American history, Paul Revere’s bell found its forever home at the top of the Davenport Memorial City Hall. Nowadays, it only rings on special occasions, and the person who rings it must be equally important.

On December 31, 2014, Leslie Trundy, a beloved guidance counselor at Morse High School, and Bath’s Person of the Year, did the honors. She rang in the New Year at precisely 12:00 p.m., not midnight. It’s a Bath thing, and it works well because everyone can gather at the Hallet’s Clock and sing “Auld Lang Syne." On that cold, winter’s day, Leslie was wearing a navy blue, U.S.A. Olympic beret made by Roots. I noticed her hat because we left City Hall together, and as we walked home, we shared some stories about our children and our running, two great joys we have in common. We walked fast and said goodbye too soon. On parting, I couldn’t possibly imagine how clearly I would remember her hat. A beret is so classically French that I was surprised when team U.S.A. chose it for the Winter Olympics a few years ago, but then a beret also suggests a bold spirit. 

"The Thinker" behind a bench at the Rodin Museum

Sadly, the reason I remember Leslie's navy blue beret so well is because one week later, on January 7, 2015, there was a terrorist attack in Paris at the offices of Charlie Hebdo, and a few days after that more lives were lost at a nearby kosher market. Chiming bells inspire us; blaring sirens frighten us. The sirens of Paris in January remind us that life and liberty is indeed fragile. As human beings, we all feel the terror of hate, and we all hope for peace. At night, when I walk my dog along Washington Street, I hear a church bell chime, and invariably at that moment I look up to see the stars and feel the freedom of the hour. It is simply beautiful.

Two chairs talking at the Jardin du Luxembourg

Truth be told, there’s a French connection in Bath. Both cities share a love of art, history, church bells and pretty places to sit and enjoy it all. My husband and I visited Paris for the first time last spring, and we sat in gardens; we rested near fountains, we dreamed in the shadow of breathtaking statues and we heard the bells of Notre Dame. In a similar way, people who work in Bath often eat lunch on pretty park benches beside people visiting Bath for the first time. Honeymooners staying at the local inns can French kiss on a number of secluded, or not so secluded, benches! And of course, there are many boats along the Kennebec that seat two or four or eight. There are so many places to relax and enjoy the river views and gardens. Whether you are sitting by the Seine River in Paris or the Kennebec River in Bath, you are free to read, draw, write poetry, play the guitar, talk with a friend, solve a problem, hope, pray and fall in love.

Add one more Parisian bench to make "the power of four"

The bell of Bath is historically significant because of the silversmith who made it, Paul Revere. In turn, Paul Revere is an American legend because of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the lyrical poet from Portland, Maine who wrote The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere after climbing the steps of the Old North Church “to the chime of bells” on April 5, 1860. According to the book cover of my treasured edition of the poem, this lone visit to the belfry of a church in Boston inspired one of the greatest historical poems in the American language. Many believe Longfellow, a graduate of Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine and a professor of French and Spanish at Harvard University, wrote the poem as a call to arms on the eve of the American Civil War. Historians may point out the inaccuracies of Longfellow’s account of that fateful night in 1775, but certainly it is the poetry of his words that make the event so unforgettable. Over 150 years after its publication, the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere still calls us to be courageous, and that is proof positive that art is more powerful than politics! Let freedom ring! Hope is everywhere!

Two sweethearts kicking back on the Kennebec!

Over the River and Into the Woods

Thorne Head Preserve

On Christmas day, 2014, Disney released its musical fantasy, Into the Woods. Four days later, after all of our children left Bath to return to their jobs in Boston and New York City, Joe and I went to the movies to escape our quiet house. The music and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim’s light opera certainly spoke to me that Monday night under a silvery crescent moon:

How do you say to your child in the night, Nothing’s all black, but nothing’s all white?...
Careful the tale you tell.
That is the spell.
Children will listen... 
How do you say to your child in flight,
Don’t slip away, and I won’t hold so tight?

Letting go of our children is probably the hardest step forward we will ever take, but wise men know that forward is the best way to go.

As a mother of three, I strongly agree with Sondheim’s brilliant metaphor, “Children are wishes.” Our home in Maine, located between the Kennebec River and the Thorne Head Preserve, welcomed six grown-up children (love grows!) for the holidays. For us, Bath Time often feels like a dream. In December, all around the City of Ships, we saw families gathering together: mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, grandmas and grandpas. I believe that playful mix of people is Disney-like magic in real time! The talented and famous cast of Into the Woods, including Meryl Streep, Emily Blunt, James Corden and Anna Kendrick, expressed in music our need to connect generations, to form families, to build communities, and to live for love. This holiday season I witnessed the good people of Bath singing the same song in their own unique way! When Meryl Streep’s “once beautiful witch” sings to Rapunzel, “Stay a child, while you can be a child with me.” I understand too well her maternal desire to hold on to the child in her arms. The lyrics in the closing song of Sondheim’s blended fairy tale, however, are a bit unnerving: “Careful the things you say, children will listen.” That said, I must agree with Sondheim. Raising children is a serious business, and wishes do not come free. In the theater, as the movie version of  Into the Woods came to an end, the audience, young and old alike, applauded. It’s rare to hear applause in a movie theater, but clearly Into the Woods is casting its spell. The music and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim stir our collective soul. The sweet, but haunting, refrain, “Children will listen,” is repeating in my head even now, and I will try to be careful as I tell my stories.

Our youngest son, Mark, arrived in Bath on Monday, December 22nd, just in time for the big Sing! at the Chocolate Church Arts Center. Sounds delicious, right? Well, this 38^th annual sing-along proved to be sweeter than a plate of nine whoopie pies! In fact, my favorite part of the evening was the narration with real life “props” of the children’s book Twelve Maine Christmas Days, written by Wendy Ulmer, an author from Arrowsic, and illustrated by Sandy Crabtree, an artist from Bath. In place of five golden rings, the inimitable Ms. Marco, a leading lady in the troupe, displayed five majestic moose, Maine's official state animal. Two wooden oars (ship building in Maine began in 1607) and a dark-green wild pine tree were also presented with great gusto! By the time the narrators introduced eleven blueberries followed by twelve chickadees, the audience was hooting! Joe, in his infinite wisdom, purchased this new Christmas classic last November, so I know for a fact that the twelve chickadees are pictured in the book at Bath’s gazebo in Library Park! Without a doubt, Wendy Ulmer and Sandy Crabtree tell a beautiful tale, and children will listen!

To top off our first Sing! Joe and I won a gigantic, red poinsettia, one of eight given away that

evening. As fate and Bath would have it, we walked to the Chocolate Church that night, and after winning the poinsettia we feared the walk home in the rain would be difficult. Well, wishes that come true may not be free, but a grown-up son can help his parents carry a huge poinsettia up the hill and one mile north, and he did! Little Red Riding Hood was right when she sang, “Stick to the path” as she carried a basket to her grandmother’s house. Mark listened! Later, we drove to Byrnes' Irish Pub and listened to half a dozen Irish fiddlers play some happy tunes.And in that joyful moment, Mark began to talk. When a son talks, parents should listen! This is wisdom tried and true! Joe, Mark and I had a long conversation that Monday night in late December, and the words felt like music! The mashed potato flatbread at Byrnes' Irish Pub was delicious, too!

Why is it we love to count our favorite things? I counted twelve Maine Christmas days, eleven fabulous people at our Christmas dinner, eight poinsettias all in a row, six Irish fiddlers at Byrne’s Irish Pub, five Bath friends gathering on New Year’s Eve, and one amazing band at Bath’s Freight Shed! Simply stated, saying goodbye to an old year and saying hello to a new year, requires a countdown!

Like two old (love) birds, Joe and I usually greet the New Year at home in our warm nest, but before the final hour of 2014 we decided to venture out to the Freight Shed with a few friends and sway to the music of Cilantro under twinkling lights. We also enjoyed Henry & Marty’s  brisket and organic mashed potatoes in a ceramic cup that was just the right size and just the right flavor for a rustic party! (In case you're counting, mashed potatoes have been mentioned twice in this tale. It's an Irish blessing!) Before long, Joe grabbed my hand, not to dance, but rather to sneak out to the work shed in back to view a replica of Maine’s first ship, the Virginia, which is being built by students and volunteer craftsman. One of the skilled and generous volunteers was present to tell us about the the ship's authentic design. The Virginia Project clearly showcases the ingenuity and artistry of Bath, and it reflects a buoyant and courageous spirit worth emulating.

I spied the troll at the stern of the Virginia with an impish grin and a twinkle in the eye. Like the beginning of a fairy tale, I imagined young boys going to sea for the first time and returning years later as men, and I remembered what my father told me, “Your children are only loaned to you. They are not yours to keep.” My father, like the boys of Bath, went to sea at an early age. He became a great storyteller, and I listened to all of his stories. At the end of Into the Woods, as the baker cradles his newborn son, the baker’s wife gently says, “Tell him what you know.” I believe our stories do cast a spell. They are  the magic seeds, or beans, that take root and grow into a beautiful pear tree, or a giant beanstalk, or a loving family!   

The Kennebec River on Christmas Day 2014

Our Nest is Best

A few weeks ago on a Saturday morning in Bath, there was music in the air. The birds were singing, and I was reminded of Oscar Hammerstein's classic song, Oh What a Beautiful Mornin’:
            Oh what a beautiful mornin’.

            Oh, what a beautiful day.

            I’ve got a beautiful feelin’

            Everything’s going my way.

Unlike Gordon MacRae and Shirley Jones, however, Joe and I were in Maine, not Oklahoma! When we stepped out to meet the day, we were wearing woolen caps and long scarves. But to our surprise, we were greeted by a splash of color, which was clearly the last crimson and gold hues of autumn. Our neighbor’s Japanese maple was so spectacular I had to snap a picture. All summer long I watched people passing by take pictures of that magnificent tree, but I believe that particular Saturday was its best day, and I sealed its beauty in my photo album. As Joe and I walked toward the Freight Shed, home to Bath’s Farmers’ Market, I spied another one of my favorite trees, the enormous Copper River Birch Tree planted in 1871. On November 8, 2014, it was pure gold!

Our walk downtown was stop and go because the streets were crowded with so many beautiful views that we just had to stop and stare. Clearly, the light was  just right for gazing at 9 o’clock in the morning. For the first time, I noticed the stone bench in the shape of a bird on the east side of the Patten Free Library, and I had to sit down and look out on the Kennebec River for a while. Fortunately, this gave Joe time to snap a few more pictures. Both of us have always been drawn to benches. Perhaps that's because they're made for two, and that Saturday morning was definitely turning out to be a love song. Beneath my hand I could read the sculptor’s carved inscription: “Love from Ruth.” I don’t know who Ruth is, but I suspect she used to sit and watch the Kennebec, too!

Joe and I decided to fuel up and fully wake up at the Starlight Cafe. We ordered two mugs of coffee and two plates of sunny side up eggs with home fries. When I asked if I could substitute a blueberry-lemon scone for toast, the waitress recognized me! All the tables and chairs in this cozy corner of Bath were filled, and Joe and I enjoyed turning the pages of a newspaper left by someone who must have started their day an hour before we arrived. Why is it better to read a newspaper in a crowded place than alone in your kitchen? Whatever your answer, it’s a good thing for local businesses! After stretching out breakfast as long as we dared, we strolled down to the waterfront and stepped out of the cold and into the historic Bath Freight Shed, built in 1894. Once inside, the bright sunshine receded as twinkle lights and vendors transformed the space into a bustling farmers' market. Music filled the room, and I felt transported to a simpler time. Within a few minutes, I found the source of the happy sound, the Married with Chitlens Band. I saw a guitarist, a base player and a fiddler making beautiful music as three little girls and their dad watched in complete awe. Actually, the three little girls were watching the musicians while their dad watched them with a little bit of laughter and endless love. I snapped another picture!

Joe is looking for a few good apples. He is about to find many!

From time to time, we all encounter a gloomy day, and I find it infinitely helpful to remember how bright true love can be! With that in mind, I caught Joe on camera buying fruit and vegetables. It's a beautiful portrait in sepia, and I intend to keep it forever. Seriously, what could be more romantic than buying local produce at a farmers' market? It’s naturally delicious! And to add a touch of honey, I bought a candle made of beeswax in the shape of a turkey. There are so many treasures to be found in The Freight Shed!

The vendors at Bath's Farmers' Market are busy, and they're charming, too!

By Saturday night, the good people of Bath were ready to party, and there were several exciting venues available to everyone. Music was definitely the common thread: Melissa Manchester in concert at the Chocolate Church Arts Center and a Speakeasy Party with the Hadacol Bouncers at the Winter Street Center. Because Joe and I can never resist Chicago style jazz, we chose the brassy music of the Hadacol Bouncers. Truth be told, secrets intrigue me, and I wanted to use the Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc.'s secret password, "Bunny McClure," to slip into the WSC through the side door. Once inside, I thought I heard Louis Armstrong playing the trumpet! Gillian Davis, a key member of the Portland Swing Project, was also in the house, and along with her amazing partners, she made the WSC roar like the 1920's! I have never seen such fancy footwork look so smooth and easy. While the dance moves were dazzling, the signature cocktail, “Fireball,” lit up the night and kept us all swinging! Some of us even had a chance to sit on a paper moon and kiss the one we love! (Did you know there is a paper moon in the WSC?)

The Snowy Owl Room

In the wee hours of the morning, when I finally climbed into bed, I couldn’t help but count my blessings. As I pulled up the extra warm down comforter and laid my head on the divinely soft pillow, I thought about our “adult-children.” Next month they will be arriving in Bath to celebrate Christmas with us! For a night or two, our nest will be full again. What a sweet dream to place on a pillow! Upon waking up eight hours later, I told Joe we should officially name our guest rooms: The Snowy Owl, The Love Nest and The East Room! He agreed. Saturday, November 8, 2014 was an unforgettable day. As fate and Bath would have it, The Patten Free Library’s "bird bench" made a Saturday morning especially memorable. I truly believe that sculpted bench is a beautiful love letter to everyone who comes to Bath and sits for a while! Let’s feather our nest and enjoy each other this holiday season!

Thank You Notes

I believe Robert Fulghum, the author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, is a luminary because he focused our attention on Albert Einstein’s guiding principle that imagination is more important than knowledge. Fulghum wrote, “I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.” In my heart of hearts, I am also convinced that lessons 13 and 16 on Mr. Fulghum’s list of things learned in kindergarten are the most vital: “When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.” “And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – Look.”

Whenever I am in Bath, I like to walk along Front Street and stroll through Waterfront Park. Surrounded by beauty, I strongly feel the need to LOOK because I fear in a blink I may miss a moment of this heavenly place. Of course, it wouldn’t feel like heaven if I were by myself. I love to see the bubbles of people at work and at play in downtown Bath. This cool little city is a community of vibrant people who know how to stick together. It’s easy to strike up a conversation here because the shoppers and shopkeepers, the artists, tradesmen and chefs, the tour guides, teachers and students are happy and ready to share their talent and their stories. Bath is always humming, and everyday life along the Kennebec makes me want to whistle, but I don’t know how to whistle, so I am making a joyful sound on this keyboard, and I hope all the playful members of Bath Time Society hear my tune and tap their feet right along with me. I suspect that most of the Bath residents I have met were superstars in kindergarten. They are definitely creative and fun loving people, and this blog is my way of thanking them for making such a cool little city possible!

Needless to say, I didn’t learn all of my life lessons in kindergarten. I did in fact learn a lot from my Brownie troop, and that is probably because my mother was the leader. Without a doubt, my mother’s common sense influenced me more than Einstein and Fulghum’s combined genius. I should also add that my mom was the best whistler I have ever known. Her favorite song was You Are My Sunshine. Okay, I have strayed, but the Brownie lesson is important: “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” Following the Girl Scout rule, I invited my “old” friends to visit me in Bath, and they came! I have always been grateful for their company, but never more than this past summer. Joni, my friend of over 30 years, came up to Bath from Westford, MA to spend a few days! We were girls again ---giggles and flip-flops---at Popham Beach!  And Kathy, my BFF from the College of the Holy Cross, joined me for the Maine Maritime Museum’s architectural heritage tour. Once aboard the trolley, we met Judy Mansfield, our volunteer docent (and a great supporter of Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc.). For one magical hour, Judy, a retired teacher and an exceptional storyteller, took us back in time to the 19^th century, and we all listened like school children to the the family sagas of the original shipbuilders who first made this little city cool! What a hoot! Later, Kathy and I dined at Grey Haven’s Blue Restaurant in nearby Georgetown.

 But best of all, that night Kathy played the role of  “dog whisperer” and managed to quiet our family dog, Penny, and my daughter’s puppy, Moo. It’s not surprising these two canine pals fell asleep on the couch as they listened to The Art of Racing in the Rain because Kathy is a kindergarten teacher!

Bath is clearly teacher friendly! Perhaps that’s why I feel so at home here. Several of my neighbors are teachers, and amazingly a few of them are fluent in Spanish, so on occasion we enjoy chatting about the artisans of Oaxaca as we care for our gardens. I am grateful for all the conversations I’ve enjoyed with Peter and Susan, and Shelley, too. Life in Bath Time is simply educational! Heidi, my first friend in Bath, recommended a morning eco tour aboard the Horizon III to celebrate my birthday and entertain my family. Since Heidi is an accomplished college professor, I decided to take her advice. On a glorious mid-summer morning, seven family members and I boarded Captain Brooks’ 35-foot pontoon boat, and together we discovered that the best view of Bath is from the water. We also learned a lot about the life of the Kennebec River. I spied a harbor seal at play, and for the first time in my life I caught a glimpse of a bald eagle. Doubling Point Lighthouse, built over the marshes of Arrowsic Island in 1898, was another spectacular sight, and I must admit that its light was more romantic from the water than from the shore. For a moment, we all felt the fair and stormy winds of history. I don’t think I will ever tire of touring around Bath, its nearby islands and peninsulas in a boat!

In the City of Ships, river safaris and starry nights are par for the course, but Friday nights are especially entertaining! For the last few seasons, I have been experiencing ArtWalks in downtown Bath, and my appreciation for art has been forever enhanced. On one frolicking Friday night, my friend Jill accompanied me to the studio of Judson Pottery, which sits like a bird’s nest atop several flights of stairs in one of Front Street’s taller buildings. Jill and I kept following the signs upward until at last we opened a door and fell into Carolyn Judson’s unique view of our planet. As I surveyed the open space around me, I was reminded of an old Donny and Marie song: “A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock and Roll, but I felt a need to “Judsonize” the title: “A Little Bit Mid-Coast, a Little Bit Savanna.” Clearly, Carolyn Judson has been to Africa, and she knows how to sculpt magnificent, large animals, like elephants! I think Jill and I both thought we were entering a different dimension, and it was enormously refreshing. Carolyn greeted us personally and engaged us in deep conversation. Within minutes, I learned that she had once lived in Brooklyn, New York, my birthplace, and in addition to painting and sculpting, she loves to teach! 

Shortly after that discovery, I met Carolyn's talented student, Nan Moran. As fate and Bath would have it, Nan is the sister of Mary King, a previous owner of our home on Washington Street! This is not just a coincidence; rather, it is proof that people in Bath are connected and know how to hold hands when it counts the most! I believe a close, loving community is a powerful blessing, and since I felt blessed that evening at the pottery studio, I bought the most cheerful daffodils I have ever seen in clay, and they were sculpted by Nan Moran. These sunny flowers now hang in the entrance hall of our Maine house, and they always make me smile when I come down the stairs!

Truth be told, the people of Bath know how to relax on Friday nights. Whether they are kicking back on the Kennebec, or forming a circle on Carriage House Lane for chili, cheese and wine, they are enjoying each other’s company. Joe and I are missing this Friday night’s celebration, but we will be there in a few short weeks, and we are looking forward to shaking hands with our neighbors! Last summer, Shelley, the kindest, fairest neighbor of them all, suggested I visit the Healing Garden at Mid Coast Hospital because she felt it was one of the prettiest gardens in Maine, and she thought I would appreciate the flowers there. Well, I found that garden, and I learned a valuable lesson: a hospital surrounded by evergreen trees and nurturing a garden at its heart can indeed offer us peace. Anticipating November and a time of thanksgiving, I hope we will always be able to see in our mind’s eye the wildflowers of summer, and the loving people who brought them to us. 

Thank you!

  

Legends of Washington Street

When the autumn breeze begins to blow, I feel like a child, and I want to catch the falling red and yellow leaves and gently press them between the pages of a treasured book, like

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, written by an Irish author, Josephine Leslie, under the pseudonym R. A. Dick in 1945. Leslie’s romantic fantasy tells the story of a young widow, Lucy Muir, who struggles to chart a new life for herself and her young daughter in a cottage by the sea in Whitecliff, England, which happens to be 58 miles south of the English city of Bath. Two years after its first publication, it was made into a timeless black and white film that is still enjoyed today. Gene Tierney, a serenely beautiful American actress, brought the character of Lucy Muir to life, and Rex Harrison, a dashing British actor, gave a second chance at love, if not life, to the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg. When Mrs. Muir loses her fortune and fears that she will have to leave Gull Cottage and be forced to live with her overbearing in-laws, it is Captain Gregg who saves her by helping her to write a best selling novel, Blood and Swash, based on his own seafaring adventures.

Even though the clever dialogue between Captain Gregg and Mrs. Muir is quite dazzling in the novel, the 1947 movie version of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir truly touched my soul. Watching this movie classic with my husband, after planting a few mums and finding the perfect pumpkin for the front step, was a Sunday afternoon delight. Under an October sky, saints, sinners, sea captains and ghosts seem to appear all around us, but it is all part of the season. We are in an October state of mind! For me, the best part of a ghost story is the ending because that is the moment when you face your fear, see the truth, and breathe again. It’s also the best time to lean in and listen to someone’s heart. It’s uncanny how fear, whether real or imagined, seems to bring us closer together! In 2013, John J. Puccio, a movie critic for Movie Metropolis, described The Ghost and Mrs. Muir as “director Joseph L. Mankiewicz’ 1947 postwar love letter to the world.” In Bath, where I always long to be, I know that master story tellers are warming up their voices to whisper ghost stories, and just like the residents of Whitecliff, England, Bath historians know scores of legendary sea captains, and it doesn’t have to be Halloween or All Souls Day for them to tell their stories.

Not unlike Mrs. Muir, a sea captain’s widow used to live in our house on Washington Street in the late 1800’s. Abigail Page Magoun, a native of Bath and the sister of the city’s first mayor, married Captain William Henry Duncan on October 3, 1844. He was 36 years old, and she was 26. The captain was a widower with one son at the time of his marriage to Abigail, and his career as a mariner was going well. Records show that he commanded at least 6 ships in the middle of the nineteenth century. To name a few, he was the captain of the J.P. Harward, built in 1844, the Asia, built in 1855 and the Platina, built in 1838. City records show that Captain Duncan sold a house on South Street, formerly owned by a Patten, a prominent shipbuilding family in Bath, on August 5, 1854 for 1,000 dollars. A city directory shows Abigail Duncan living on Washington Street in 1873. According to ancestry.com, Captain Duncan resided at the same address from 1871 to 1872, the year of his death. Of course, this begs the question, have I felt the presence of the ghost of Captain William Duncan? Truth be told, I do not appear to be spirit sensitive because I have not experienced a single encounter. Perhaps the captain’s ghost could not stay in the Maine house because the master bedroom was built with witches’ corners facing the river so spirits could pass through quickly. With or without friendly ghost corners, I prefer to think of Captain Duncan as a courageous man who was ready to move on toward the morning light. In 1872, Captain Duncan had a clear view of the Kennebec from the master bedroom window, and he could see the sailing ships docked along the river’s bank in the bustling shipyard along Front Street. It’s uplifting to imagine him passing through that bedroom window and sailing away on a white cloud surrounded by a sea of blue sky. Records show that Mrs. Abigail Duncan stayed in the Federal Colonial on Washington Street, near Cedar (now Holly) Street, until 1877. I suspect she was sad when she finally left the house, and just like Mrs. Muir she glanced over her shoulder for one last look before departing. Although I am not spirit sensitive enough to see ghosts, I do feel happy and peaceful in our big, old house. The entrance hall with its turning staircase and exquisitely crafted banister, is my favorite place to stand on a sunny afternoon. In my heart, I believe that every former owner for the last 150 years has stood in that same hall, looked up, and admired the work of the unknown carpenters who built this stately home. There is so much art in the construction of an old house. I certainly understand why Lucy Muir couldn’t bear to leave Gull Cottage!

Around the corner from our house on Washington Street, there’s a cottage worthy of Mrs. Muir, but today it is both the home and studio of Claudette Gamache, a master painter who captures the white cliffs and breaking waves of Popham Beach as well as the wildflowers that frame the Kennebec River with her pastels. I first met Claudette last summer when I was walking my dog, Penny Lane, and our meeting was indeed fortuitous. We were standing near the Galen C. Moses house, one of the most historic inns in Bath, and Claudette told me she once lived in the white house across the street, the one with the striking red door. I was not surprised when she told me she was an artist and was living and painting in the cottage that once served as the office for Arthur Sewall & Company’s shipyard. Clearly, Claudette has an eye for beauty because that little cottage on Front Street is a slice of heaven! At our first meeting, I told Claudette how I was drawn to Bath because of its architectural beauty and its shipbuilding history, and she understood instantly. A few weeks later, I visited Claudette’s gallery and had the pleasure of viewing not only her beautiful paintings, but a collection of old photographs  as well. The photos show the shipyard at the corner of Cedar and Front Street as it was at the turn of the twentieth century. In one of the photos, you can see our house at the top of the hill, and at the bottom of the hill, near the river bank, you can see a sailing ship standing tall in the shipyard. Today, handsome wooden drawers, each bearing the name of a ship built by Sewall, still line the south wall of the cottage. This wall of fame includes the legendary Dirigo, which was torpedoed and lost in 1917 during WWI. While visiting, I also spied a very distinguished portrait of Mr. Arthur Sewall, which reminded me of the portrait of Captain Daniel Gregg (a.k.a. Rex Harrison) in the movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir! Of course this all begs the question, “Is the cottage on Front Street haunted?” Claudette assured me it was not. In fact, she happens to have a friend who is a shaman, a person believed to have access to the world of good and evil spirits, and the shaman visited the cottage to assess its energy. As fate and Bath would have it, Claudette’s gallery has only bright, positive energy. Thank goodness!

Nevertheless, in October everyone is looking for Casper, the friendly ghost, and according to Claudette, Casper may have a few friends in Bath. On that summer evening when I was viewing Claudette’s gallery for the first time, she told me that when she lived in the white house on Washington Street she felt a presence upstairs where she used to paint. Years before, the Donovan girls, who grew up across the street, had felt a presence in their neighbor's house, too. When Claudette moved in, they asked her if the ghost still resided in the house. Since Claudette was not sure how to answer, she invited her friend, the shaman, to come for a visit, and her friend seemed to connect with a sweet spirit. Apparently, the little girl liked the colors in Claudette’s artwork, and she was very complimentary. In response, the shaman told her gently that it was time to move on, and she listened. What intrigues me most about this story is the fact that the white house is across the street from possibly the oldest copper beech tree in the state of Maine. One of my Bath neighbors told me this spectacular tree was planted in 1871 in remembrance of a young child who had just died. Ironically, copper beech trees are not known for their longevity. The memorial tree on Washington Street has defied gravity and has continued growing for almost 150 years. And that is what we call positive energy!

On one of my daily summer walks down Washington Street, I saw two artists painting the lovely white Federal Colonial with Italianate modifications. They had set up their easels on the street close to the curb, and they both seemed completely absorbed in their work. Sadly, I cannot paint, so I snapped a photo of the artistic process. I could hear a dog barking from inside the house, there was an American flag flying over the door, and although there were no children playing in the yard that day, there was evidence of children. The house was full of life, and the scene was picture perfect. I have no doubt that the two artists shared the same view and captured the happiness. There wasn’t a ghost in sight, but love was all around! In 1968, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir premiered on NBC starring Hope Lange as Mrs. Muir and Edward Mulhare as Captain Gregg. From the movie drama of the 1940’s to the more light hearted television show of the 1960’s, the most significant change was the setting: Whitecliff, England became a fictional fishing village in Schooner Bay, Maine. Could that be Georgetown or Phippsburg? Everything is possible in Bath Time! There may not be ghosts, but there is certainly magic in Maine’s Cool Little City!

September.

It’s time to put the bouquet of pencils on my big teacher’s desk that sits in front of the blackboard framed with posters and poems and a few “Ojos de Dios” made by students who have long since graduated. September always brings me back to school, to Room 23 on the west side of Chicago. I am not in Bath anymore, and I could feel sad about that, or I could feel refreshed by all that salt air I breathed in so deeply while I listened to music by the dock at Waterfront Park. I choose to be happy. Besides, I am a teacher, and it’s good to be back at school. I have a lot of work to do to convince those sophomores that speaking Spanish is helpful if you want to build peace around the world. I’m also busy writing letters of recommendation for the seniors so they can go to college next year and learn how to fly. In September, I wake up at 5:30 a.m. with Spanish on my mind, and I am ready to face my wide-eyed students when the school bell rings at 8 o’clock, but for at least a minute of every hour I find myself thinking mainly about Maine! I wonder where all the Delphiniums, Daisies, and Dahlias have gone? In June, July and August, I hurried to Bath’s Farmers' Market every Saturday morning to buy some of the prettiest flowers I have ever seen from Linda Mercer, the fair lady from Sheepscot Flower Farm. And like Eliza Doolittle, I felt so pretty when I carried flowers home in my basket.  It’s surprising how good one feels after shopping at a Farmers’ Market, and it’s those summer surprises that I will remember all through September.

Truth be told, my husband gave me my first surprise in early July. As a teacher, I was free to stay in Bath and play all summer long, but Joe occasionally had to return to Chicago to work. Knowing that I would miss him, Joe left a package under my pillow before he departed for the first time. When I went to bed that night, I found a note and a bottle of Chanel No. 5. Joe is the only man who has ever bought me Chanel. I think it reminds him of Paris, and that is lovely because we saw Paris together! The next morning I went downstairs and opened a kitchen cabinet to grab a box of cereal, but instead
I found a second package. This one was a small glass jar topped with a yellow silk flower. Inside the jar was a dozen colorful hair ties, and a note from Joe suggested I wear them on my morning runs. He also told me to enjoy my cornflakes and banana. He knows me so well! Joe has always had to travel for work, and we have learned how to connect despite the geography that sometimes separates us. Believe it or not, the U.S. Postal Service still helps people in love. Just when time apart seemed to be getting too long, I would hear a swoosh of mail slide through the slot in our front door, and sure enough there would be mail from Joe, a real letter written on a piece of stationery, and there were usually newspaper clippings attached. The articles, which discussed everything from gardening to antiques, were always interesting to both Joe and I. We were together in thought all summer long, and after 35 years of marriage that is amazing!

When the school bell rings at 2:20, and my period 10 class exits the room, I like to sit for just a minute to collect my thoughts. Those thoughts turn to Washington Street quite often, and I have to laugh because my classroom in Oak Park faces Washington Boulevard. I must have a natural affinity for American history and architecture! Oak Park was once the playground of Frank Lloyd Wright, a famous American architect born in the middle of the 19th century. And as fate and luck would have it, Bath was once the playground for several 19^th century architects. In 1843, Anthony C. Raymond designed the Winter Street Church, a Gothic Revival building with a Greek Revival influence; in 1860, Francis Fassett designed the adjoining parish hall in the Italianate style, and decades later his apprentice, also a prominent Bath designer, John Calvin Stevens, made interior alterations to the sanctuary. Whenever I walk along the streets of Bath, I tend to look up at the tall, white steeple of the Winter Street Church, and it never fails to direct my thoughts toward heaven. Today, the Winter Street Church is referred to as as the Winter Street Center (WSC), home of  Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc (SPI). Meeting with SPI’s new director, Lorena Caverly Coffin, was one of summer’s coolest surprises. Lorena is incredibly knowledgeable about architectural preservation, and she is committed to restoring the sanctuary of the WSC to its former glory. Lorena’s passion for preservation stems from her distinguished family tree. Her grandfather, Dr. Herbert Caverly, purchased the Captain Percy House at 702 Washington Street from Captain Percy’s widow after WWII, and subsequently two generations of Caverlys, father and son, made this historic residence their family home and practiced dentistry in a home office. Lorena, is truly a native daughter, destined to identify and treasure the architectural gems of Bath! She is also a loving wife and a mother of two active sons who make her beam with pride. She is likeable in every way, and the short time I spent with her fueled my desire to support SPI. According to Lorena, the SPI’s Blarney Ball is fun disguised as a fundraiser. Joe and I hope to discover that fun next March!
 

Saving historic buildings is a huge undertaking, and I am in awe of what SPI has been able to accomplish since its formation in 1971, but as a classroom teacher, a private on the front line, I am also impressed with the many ways, big and small, Bath’s business owners and their employees have improved the quality of life for Bath residents and visitors alike. For example, the red-haired girl who works at Starlight Cafe is a change maker, and I don’t mean change at the cash register. I have experienced first-hand the effect of her charm. One day in July I entered the cafe looking for my guilty pleasure, a white chocolate raspberry scone. She took my order to go and followed Starlight protocol. In other words, she handed me a brown paper bag and a sheet of waxed paper to choose my scone from the glass jar on the counter. The charming difference was that the paper bag was decorated with rainbows and clouds. She told me some local children offered to decorate some of their brown bags. When I told her I was a teacher, and I was thrilled to have drawings made with crayons on my paper bag, she said she knew I would be pleased with the up-grade. Intuitively, that red-haired girl knew how to treat her customers, and that is a gift. I probably visited the Starlight Cafe more than twice a week during June, July and August. Clearly, I like their muffins and scones, but secretly I like the cashier girl, the cook, and the waitresses, too! By the way, the cook is a master of sarcastic banter; he and I have been known to compete in verbal volleyball!

Sometimes, even in Bath Time, it rains, and that’s when I go to the library.  If you are looking for hidden treasure, Bath’s Patten Free Library will not disappoint you. Galen C. Moses, the son of Bath’s first tinsmith, Oliver Moses, donated the necessary funds to build the library in 1889 and requested that it be named after the Patten family, a family of ship builders who helped insure Bath’s prosperity for generations. George E. Harding, a native of Bath, designed the 19^th century library in the Romanesque style. The artistic additions that were added years later in 1961 and 1998 underline Bath’s commitment to art and education, and the park that surrounds the library extends the space for exploring both nature and culture in perfect harmony. During the summer, I could hear live music at the gazebo on Tuesday and Friday nights, and I could also admire the bronze statues that show the heart of Bath. Most tourists are drawn to the fountain, the Spirit of The Sea, by the famous sculptor William Zorach, but I prefer the smaller statue near the entrance of the library: two children sitting on a bench reading. A three dimensional sculpture can truly capture the value of a library! Free of charge, young and old can find pleasure at the Patten Free Library. On one rainy day, I was able to check out  a priceless book, All Available Boats, by Mike Magee, M.D., and I was able to order Questions About Angels, an anthology of poems, by Billy Collins, through the inter-library system. Neither of these books are presently on a best sellers list, but both were written by fellow alumni of the College of the Holy Cross, and I highly recommend them. The first chronicles the rescue of 300,000 people from the island of Manhattan on September 11 by volunteer boat captains who answered the call, and the second is brilliant poetry from the pen of a renowned poet laureate. Good libraries are a blessing, and the Patten Free Library is fabulous!

The 1889 Romanesque part of the Patten Free Library 

For ten weeks of summer I was not in school, but the community of Bath made sure I kept learning!