"never read a book through merely because you have begun it" - witherspoon

Winter would seem an ideal stretch to rip through a few good books...

Set up a small little corner of the couch, maybe a cup of coffee or a snack.  Imagine yourself in the author's world...sweeping the dusted sidewalks in a tiny village in southern Serbia, at a PTA meeting in Cambridge wishing the parent next to you were dead, searching for places in the Sudanese desert to park your plane.  You visualize what each character looks like, sounds like. You assign them each movie actors in your mind...this one's Dev Patel, she's Emily Mortimor, and he's John Malkovich...no, Hugh Laurie.

All good in theory.  But in practice...I never could sit still long enough to read past chapter two.  Mr. John Witherspoon's advice..."Drop it."  He was a signer on the Declaration of Independence...seems worthy a enough man to listen to. 

So, we put down our books (after Kate finished hers) and went snowshoeing last week up "Passaconoway"...as Kate like's to say.  That's Abenaki for Past Conway, NH.  

Blistering wind and snow pushed our little Toyota Scion around the icy highway like a hockey puck.  We chose to "shoe" down in the protected valley of Crawford Notch.  The fresh powder was so deep our snowshoes still compressed two feet of snow...at which point the side walls of snow would collapse on the board of our shoes, making it that much harder to lift our feet.  Add a couple of dogs on the back of each foot and forget about it.

This week I stopped reading (like I was planning to read in the first place) to write my own chapter two for a B-Boy (that's birthday boy) snowshoe hike with Drew up Mt Major looking over Lake Winnipesaukee.  Which is Abenaki for...well, Lake Winnipesaukee.

I've always felt Mt Major to be one of the best bang-for-your-buck hikes in New England...short little two-hour hike in the snow, bald face with 270 degree views of the lake and beyond...

Awesome!!

So here's my story...wildly unrehearsed...

Little after note here:

Tired of reading about "how great the snow is", "snow is so pretty", "snow is our friend"...

If you're thinking to yourself, "Who's Jamie think he is, Captain Snow?  When everyone wants to read blogposts of snow, they go to him.  Oh, now he's Johnny Snowshoe, snowshoeing away like he's friggin' Tommy Noble.  What the hell's he doing?  Thinks he's got it goin' Bossanova...with the little dogs in the back goin' Craaa-zy.  What is this garbage?"

Not this time.  No way.  Never.  Monday, I had to jump out my window to shovel a four-foot drift from in front of both stormdoors.  Good story...but that last dumping just about broke me...definitely ready for non-snowblogs.

Haiku in the Snow

my, how the snow falls

stacking high on the curbside

from the midnight plow

school's not cancelled yet

so lace up your skates and grin

find new diversion

spirited and game

we just play with more clothes on

it ain't all that bad

frog pond "on the rocks"

low-angle view of high-rise

a boston common

five things i learned about sports while down south

it's monday night up here in rockport, ma...figure it's got to be monday night just about everywhere in the US right now...and i began thinking about television...we've downsized our cable service to the basic network stations...an exercise in winter hibernation (and life on the cheap...)

despite our acts of telecommunication piety, kate is already planning her wednesday nights at my parent's apartment to watch top chef...I, on the otherhand, don't think i'll miss television too much...(what's the first sign of withdrawal?...denial?...check!!)

now, although i would not call myself a big sports guy, my mind wandered to monday night football (or lack there of)...then to the nfl playoffs (or lack there of, pats fans)...then to sports in general (thank god for the bruins...and the eagles, pats fans)...which i then realized, i haven't heard a peep about college football since i left asheville over a month ago...

to all you up here in new england, you're probably thinking, so what...but, let me tell ya, down in the south you would more likely find statues of heisman trophy winners gracing city hall steps, than some ancient white guy in a three-point hat and calf-length stockings...i suppose they have the stockings in common

anyway...i think they play the national championship games on new years day...and despite all the trouble they had deciding who was #1 towards the end of the season, they must have laid it to rest by now...

where am i going with this?..i have no idea...but it got me thinking about the sports i watched while in asheville...here's a quick list of five things i learned about sports while living south:

5.  universities have football teams...and people seem to care...(apparently the gators are #1...yeah team esselstyn!!)

4.  most of these universities have basketball teams too...

3.  no matter how well a hockey team from the south does, nobody notices... (carolina and tampa bay won back-to-back stanley cup championships while i was down there...nobody noticed)

2.  the favored strategy for winning in sports...go straight, turn left, go straight, turn left, repeat

1. being a "yankee" and red sox fan is possible

things i'm still trying to figure out...who the SEC and Big 10 are and what sports they play

Six?...I do not think this word means what you think it means...

they were calling for six inches of snow last night...they must be using metric inches...

as Asheville, and most of the southeast, bakes in the balmy 60F degrees, we're being baptized...blessed...buried in snow.  nothing brings neighbors together like snow shovels.

a wicked big storm's whipping through...what do you do?  you lace up your boots and go find a pub.  in Rockport's case, which is a "dry" town, you go find a coffee shop and dulce...not to worry friendly friends and visitors, Gloucester is two miles away, and they have many a watering hole to choose from. we bundled up in layers and went for a walk.  made a quick view for you...i intentionally left it rotated.  figured many of you who haven't seen real snow were told that it falls straight down...didn't want to confuse anyone.

One if by Land, Two if by Sailor...

a few more shots of our long walks on the beach... 

rockport landscaping consists of a few decommissioned traps, several candy colored buoys, and a well maintained class-D lobster boat...or maybe a well-kept dinghy...

as mentioned in a previous post, rockport's most famous landmark is a small fisherman's shack at the end of Bradley Wharf.  recognized by students of art and art history as Motif Number 1, this little red structure has commanded many a portrait and picture, now including my own.

while a lesser known landmark, perhaps due to its constant relocation, marks the labor and pride of cheerful exploration and thorough examination...recognized by students of the natural arts as Motif Number 2..

Silent Night...Holy S**t!!

Now, if a blow-up Santa Claus in a 7 foot snow globe with twirling propellers and bright blue reindeer doesn't ring out Holiday cheer, then how about 325,000 lights in your front yard and a $1800 electric bill?

WOW!! This little slice of North Shore Boston is legendary.  The Lynn Fells Parkway neighborhood in Saugus, MA has banded together for years to put on the coolest Christmas-lights display ever...the night we escaped to this winter wonderland was nothing short of awesome...

Wishing you all the Warmest Holiday, the Happiest Chanukah, the Coolest Kwanzaa, the Finest Eid Al Fitr, a Super Solstice, and of course, the Merriest Christmas of all.

much love and peace

Lighthouses Rule

a far cry from the rich reds and browns, and cool midnight purple we boasted on North Street...here, walls are as quiet and pale as snow; furniture covered in chalky white knits and canvas slip covers.  the achromatic theme of our new milk and tawny apartment is as untroubled and tranquil as the ends of the earth it sits.  

imagine winter on the rocky limits of Cape Ann, a neck of land north of Boston that protrudes out into the Atlantic, defining the northern frame to Massachusetts Bay...Rockport, MA is an old industrial granite quarry and fishing village turned artist colony that's as quaint as a couple of 18th century old maids knitting and purling on the steps of the church common...and about as quiet too.  

it has that old-fashioned charm of walking everywhere.  we walk everywhere with our three mutts, parading the thousands of acres of open spaces and public land.  we're a bit eccentric in that way...the three mutts part.  everyone in Rockport seems to walk.  and, everyone in Rockport seems to have a dog.  typically a black lab or golden retriever, occasionally a schnauzer...always a lone leash.

from our kitchen window, we gaze between the beach gazebo, the neighboring white cape cod-style home, and the other neighboring white cape cod-style home, and stare for miles upon miles.  the ocean size waves are a few yards from our front door smoothing millions of chilled beach stones in dark bronze and cold slate, and softening the edges of small bits of drift wood and sea glass.  it is these kinds of tiny treasures that populate our furnished beach rental.   watercolor lighthouses and faint beach dunes are matted and framed in simple white and chrome.  an occasional starfish or seahorse might pop up on a dish towel or oven mitt.  and rest assured, sea shells play an important role in the bathroom.  this house is a sea horse, sea shell party and you're all invited.

so, we're out on this icy peninsula for the winter months, removed of most colors and worries. slipping into a hibernation of mind and body...ruminating on a great year no matter what the news and our bank statements suggest.  we're finding our way around.  picking our favorite irish pub and roast beef house (i forgot how popular roast beef sandwich shops are up here). with a few short sunsets remaining, and a third of the heating season behind us, the flush activities of spring will be ripe and alive in no time.  until then, i'm going to enjoy an extra long Guinness to keep the fire warm and relish in the fact that i can smell the tides coming in and out.

come visit anytime:

3 smith street ct

rockport ma 01966

828.215.5788 (j)

828.582.5588 (k)