November No More

After tonight, November 2008 will be no more. The days do seem to whiz by. The past 5 days have been filled with family business and pleasure, and although I'm enjoying my visit to Maryland, I'll be happy to get back to writing full time on the Vineyard. I return on Wednesday.

The pain in my left heel continues to be bad. I don't know if it's a bone spur or something muscular. I went to an acupuncturist yesterday and they recommended a reflexology foot massage before I try any acupuncture. This is the first reflexology procedure I've ever had. It starts off wonderfully with an herbal foot bath in warm water. Unfortunately, the pleasure part ends there. The reflexologist seemed to really know what she was doing, but she dug so hard into all parts of my foot and toes that it was hard to keep from just taking my foot away from her altogether. She looked so peaceful, though, as she ground a smooth piece of wood into my arches and other podiatral areas that I hated to disappoint her. She went easy on my left heel, but once or twice she hit a bad spot and I practically came out of the chair. Tomorrow, I go to the podiatrist for an x-ray to see if they can give me a diagnosis.

More OBX

Back in Rockville, MD this morning after a restful and wonderful weekend at the beach and environs. It was so much fun spending time with my cousins, and Marie's baby Juliette is such a doll! Karen was so good about making sure I saw as many things as possible in the area when I was there, though we both realize now it won't be my last trip. As beautiful as it is, though, I'm still happy I chose Martha's Vineyard for my writing. I have a busy day ahead, so I'll let some photos speak for what it was like on the Outer Banks, North Carolina. (Note: The second photo is ice on the trees after the sprinkler froze icicles during the night.)

The Outer Banks

Made it to Kitty Hawk, NC yesterday afternoon to join family at their timeshare here. This is the land of tall, straight pines with branches only at the top and beach houses on stilts.

Connectivity is very spotty, so this will be short and photos will follow. We ate dinner at the Black Pelican last night - the building is where the Wright Brothers telegraphed to the world that first flight had been achieved!

It's quite cold here (around 40), but sunny so I look forward to the day. We had so much fun playing with Marie and Chris' new baby, Juliette. She is a real doll and has such a good disposition. Today we see the shops and tomorrow the beach!

Phoenix and Family Photos

Like Kathy said, if Phoenix were like this year round, it would be a paradise. It was 86, sunny and dry today. The mornings and evenings right now are really comfortable - something like 60 degrees. Rich and Kathy have taken a typical desert home and made it into more like a tropical garden in which to escape. Here are examples of the front and the back yard.


Kathy and I have been scanning hundreds of old family photos from Mom's collection. I'll be happy to have them completed, both because I'll have access to all of them at any time and because it is always safer to have copies in multiple places. Here are a few of my favorites so far...

Dad, Mom, Kathy and me in Marble Canyon, CA gold mining in about 1961.


Kathy and me about 1960



Dad, Kathy and me in 1958



Dad and Kathy in 1951

Cabela's in Phoenix - A Sportsman's Paradise

After visiting Mom today, Kathy, Rich, Wesley and I went to Cabela's. I've never been here before not being much of a sportsman, but even I can appreciate a beautiful store and an ingenious marketing idea. Not only does Cabela's have everything that a normal sporting goods store has, it also has a museum-fare cafe and a huge mountain covered with taxidermied animals taken by local hunters. There is also a "gun library" for anyone who collects guns and wants to do research about their origin and value. Really impressive.(Photo courtesy of Rich Benton's cell phone!)

It was about 84 degrees today, so quite a switch from MV. It's supposed to get hotter over the next couple of days. Laurie tells me it was 90 degrees in San Diego this morning! Crazy.

Off Island Travels

Today was all about travel. It was raining this morning in Vineyard Haven as Laurie and I left the cottage to travel to T.F. Green Int'l Airport in Providence, Rhode Island. We took the ferry from VH to Woods Hole, MA (a 45 minute ride), then Peter Pan bus (with a few connections) to the airport. Laurie flew home to San Diego, and I flew to Phoenix...where I am now. The trip was fine, but long and tiring - all-in-all it took 14 hrs from door to door. I was able to get about 2 hours of writing in on the plane between Providence and Atlanta, so I made good progress on my first chapter of the book.

I'll visit Kathy, Rich, Wesley, Lynda and my mom while I'm here for the next 5 days. It's been two years since I was in Arizona, so the trip is long overdue.

Black Dogs at the Black Dog

One of the most well-known establishments on the Vineyard is here in Vineyard Haven -- the Black Dog Tavern was established in 1971 (and, yes, that's 37 years ago!). Since VH is a dry town, they don't serve liquor, but they have good food and great photos of the sailing ships and harbors. This morning Laurie and I ate breakfast there, and when we were through, we took a walk out onto their pier outside the restaurant. As were were walking back in, a man brought two beautiful young black labs to play on the beach. We thought it was just too coincidental since the "dog" part of the Black Dog is a lab with a red collar (one of the dogs sported a red collar and the other a blue). They played and chased each other and a tennis ball in and out of the water. After awhile the man called them in, and they went into one of the buildings owned by the BD. Perhaps he brought them out just so Laurie and I could take photos, perhaps not; either way, we enjoyed seeing the black dogs at the Black Dog.

Touring the Vineyard

Laurie and I have spent the past 2 1/2 days touring towns, beaches, and lighthouses on the Vineyard. We've ventured down many roads that start as pavement, then become maintained dirt, then deteriorate to two barely-visible tracks carpeted with leaves and
obviously not traveled for weeks. Although the clay cliffs at Aquinnah are beautiful, the portion of the Vineyard referred to as "up island" (because it's higher in elevation than the north or east portion) is certainly more sparsely populated and more desolate. I'm happy with my town of Vineyard Haven, though Oak Bluffs (OB) is charming, and having finally made it down to South Beach and Katama Beach, I see where the truly striking and gorgeous beaches are!

Now Am Found

Wristlet found - Beetlebung staff were holding it because it didn't have a phone number to contact. Thank goodness I don't have to deal with getting a new driver's license.

Headed to pick up jeep - Laurie will be here this afternoon on the ferry!

Losing My Identity

What a strange morning this has been. I awoke naturally at about 6am and got up after deciding I wasn't going back to sleep. Most of the morning was spent beginning Dad's "profile" with dates of who, what, when, where. Expecting it to be difficult, I steeled myself. I was surprised to discover that it was not too difficult, and that as I was re-reading the childhood stories he left us I was laughing much more than crying. Did I already say (or was this Kathy or Carrol's idea) what a good children's book or books his stories would make? There is a real treasure of adventures in them. I could see them making a small series of perhaps four or five books, with the right illustrator. Since the writers' group I expect to join (our first meeting is to be held the first Monday in December) has in the past focused on children's books, this would be a great project for me (besides the one I'm already working on). Thinking about this, I had such a sense of elation this morning.

Around 11am I decided to go out and get a bagel at Beetlebung and log on. When I was packing up my things, I realized suddenly that my little wristlet with all my information in it was missing. At first, I just thought I wasn't seeing it since the bigger bag I carry is black like the wristlet is. But after unpacking everything and shaking the bag, I started to panic. I looked everywhere. The last I could remember having it was at the drugstore yesterday when I picked up a prescription. I made only one other stop (at the Post Office), and then I went home for the day. I immediately called the drugstore -- nothing had been found. I decided at that point to go to the Police Station to see if anyone had turned it in -- also nothing. Tomorrow I'll check the Post Office to see if they have it, and if not, it's an ad in the MV Times hoping someone will return it with then incentive of a reward.

Why does something like this shake us so? They were only pieces of paper in the lost wristlet - driver's license, credit card, debit card, health insurance, Stop & Shop, bus pass, library card, some cash - but somehow by losing these simple pieces of paper, I felt I had lost part of my identity. My day had gone from giddy, to gloomy. After canceling my cards, I walked to the library hoping to get on with the day and shake the gloom. Regardless of the fact that the sun had been shining so warmly today that I had my cottage doors open all morning, things seemed more menacing. A chocolate lab barked at me as I passed and I jumped about 3 feet (there had never been a dog there before, had there?). The trees, now entirely naked of their leaves, looked cold despite the bright sun. Even my favorite yellow house on William Street averted its eyes as I passed, refusing to return the smile that we've exchanged on other days.

Sitting here I realize what has upset me the most is that I can't remember what I did with the wristlet and how I could have lost it. How could I have been so careless? There are no distractions here, why am I not in better control? Am I losing my memory? I have already lost my youth, am I losing my life? So now I'll end my philosophical wanderings on a positive note: I am NOT losing my life -- I am here, living my life...using it, enjoying it! And every day brings something new.

Flora of Vineyard Haven

The library didn't open until 1pm today, so I had an hour to kill. Besides buying a shower caddy, I took some photos of the flora. This is a short post, but I've spent 9 hours at the library the past two days, so I'm kind of beat. Enjoy the photos!

The Beginning of the End

Last night's downpour signaled the beginning of the end of autumn in Vineyard Haven. Today on my walk to the library there were almost as many bare trees as there were leaved ones. Now the color is scattered beneath their partially naked branches, and the warm tones spill out into the sidewalks and streets. It is overcast, so the colors can show their true brilliance, not being overpowered by the sun.

Daylight savings time has left the days much shorter. By 4:31 this afternoon, the sun will have set and the sky grows dark so quickly. Although the skies have been blue the last two days, my mood has been dark gray - the color of wet slate early in the morning. I continue to write (it's really more compiling than writing at this stage), so I'm progressing at a good pace. The rough sketches I had written before have now turned into grainy portraits of Dad's parents and grandparents, both maternal and paternal. These include timelines for their lives and what was happening when as far as family events. Next I'll fill in those things that were happening in the area and in the country to help put their lives in context. Finally, I will do the same thing for Dad's life, or at least his life through the service. I've already decided that this work won't have space for his life after marriage, kids, and move to the West. That will have to wait.

Last Evening

Just a quick post today from Beetlebung. The weather is so spectacular that I will go to the beach today to write.

Last night, or actually it was only 5pm, here is what the view was from my living room window. And then as I go to climb in bed, this is what I see.

Beetlebung Coffee Shop

-- Being born isn't the party, it's just the invitation. MKH

Does that sound sappy or affected or trite? I mean it sincerely. I would have sneered or rolled my eyes not long ago (admit it...you just rolled your eyes, didn't you?). How lucky am I? How good life is right now.

It was inevitable that I would end up in a coffee shop to write. I've been here at Beetlebung in Vineyard Haven for the past 2 1/2 hours. I've gone through a toasted bagel with a mocha on the side and am now working through my Izze Sparkling Blackberry juice. (That's as close to Ginger Beer as I could find, Greg!!)
http://beetlebung.com/Page/WhatIsBeetlebung.aspx

Since I had to go to the Post Office across the street this morning, I decided to try the coffee shop and its free Wi-Fi instead of the library today. I have to say it's much more to my liking. The library was ok, but the coffee shop is literally filled with writers to my right and to my left - mostly women about my age. Hmm, what does that tell me? It should mean something...perhaps we're all going through the same mid-life crises, or as I'd prefer to think of it, mid-life crossroads.

On the topic of Dad's book, I'm coming closer and closer to actually starting the story. You have to remember that writing something this epic doesn't just start at the story. When weaving such a complex tapestry as someone's life, you first have to gather the yarn you want to use for your warp and calculate the amount you're going to need. For your warp (the set of yarns placed lengthwise in the loom, and forming the lengthwise threads in a woven fabric), you will want to pick a color of yarn that will go with all the colors of your weft (the horizontal threads interlaced through the warp in a woven fabric; a.k.a. the woof) and not distract from your project. You also need to determine how much yarn you need, and all the colors that you will need for your weft, then you need to procure a loom, etc. All I mean is that I've spent a good two weeks just getting the facts that I know together in one document. Now I'm to the point of starting to build portraits of ancesters (this morning it was Great Grandpa Laurence Hogan). I started with the only photo I have of him, put everything I know about him on the page with ages he was when he did this or that (17 when he immigrated to the U.S. from Ireland, 38 when he married his wife of 25), and the page necessarily ends with his death and, in this case, a photo of his tombstone. Part of the writing process is putting yourself into other people's skins, and I was surprised to learn that I was quite sad when I put the tombstone photo at the end of the page. But at the same time, I promised Great Grandpa that I would do my best to portray him accurately and bring him back to life so he wouldn't be forgotten...at least not yet.

The music at Beetlebung has changed from The Beatles and Frank Sinatra, to something much younger that I don't recognize or particularly like. It's 3pm and the after-school crowd is bursting in. Time for me to go.

Macbeth – Shakespeare for the Masses (Quick and Painless and Free)

Last night I went to the Vineyard Playhouse (3 blocks away) to see a staged reading of William Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Macbeth. Although nothing has yet topped the performance of Macbeth at Shakespeare in the Park with Liev Schreiber, this came close. In fact, in its own venue, it was equally as effective. The house was packed, and by the end of the one-hour version of the play, I knew why.

If you’ve never been to a staged reading, it consists of a limited number of players performing different roles with minimal props on a bare stage. The players are generally reading the lines as they perform them, and in this case, there was also a narrator explaining anything that may have been unclear because of scenes that were skipped. She also provided sound effects and introduced the characters as the scenes were set.

The power of Shakespeare’s words to carry us into his story never ceases to amaze me. Whether it be a high-walled garden in Verona, a Mediterranean island in the storm-tossed seas, or the barren heaths of a Scotland under the rule of a treacherous and psychotic King, his universal truths of humanity are no less real now than they were 400 years ago. With only a few lines, deftly performed by a talented cast, the depths of horror to which ambition can drive us are played out as murder follows murder follows murder again. Act 5’s guilt-tormented Lady Macbeth incessantly washing her blood-stained hands in her sleep (“Out, damn spot!”) sends shivers down our spines. And there’s no better time of year than Halloween for the Three Witches’ famous lines:

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn and cauldron bubble!...

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn and cauldron bubble!

On the walk home, I remembered how it is to walk in the dark…next time I’ll remember to take a flashlight since there are so few streetlights. Just before I got to my cottage door, I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks. Stars…billions of stars in an ink-black sky. And I felt small and humble and was reminded of Macbeth’s speech after Lady Macbeth has died:

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time,

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Remnants of Halloween

I walk to the library this morning realizing it's November. The party last night was a bust -- when I went over, there was only a kitchen full of married guys with their wives out on the porch giving away candy. I've found, in my limited experience, that it's best not to hang around a bunch of married guys if their wives aren't in the room. It does nothing to endear you to the community. After dropping off the bottle of rose I had purchased at Al's Packaged Liquors near Edgartown, I attempted to catch the attention of my hostess who was on the porch overwhelmed by princesses and monsters. The rest of the evening I spent in my room (quite comfortably) trying to put together the puzzle that is our genealogy. (The number of Lucas' in Virginia since the beginning of time is unbelievable. This morning I found several on the Revolutionary War rolls, including a Fife and Drummer.)


Back to my walk - remnants of Halloween are definitely evident...used jack-'o-lanterns, an angel's fallen halo, bright blue feathers. The day is so lovely, though, that I hate to have to spend time indoors, but since my internet access is limited to the library hours for the next 5-7 days (ugh), I don't have much choice. Monday and Tuesday will be beach days, though, since the temps should be back up to the low 60s! By the way, the last photo has nothing to do with Halloween, but I used to collect blue glass bottles aged by the sun when I was a child, so I love this house with its windows full of blue glass!