The healing process for my husband’s knee replacement is ongoing. Sadly, we had to cancel dinner with our son for his 25th birthday tonight, because my husband just isn’t ready for restaurants yet. There’s still a ton of pain, swelling, and stiffness, which apparently is normal at this stage (3 weeks post-op), but he’s never dealt with anything like this, so it’s pretty hard.
I decided to try a recipe I saw on NYT Cooking “most popular recipes of 2025” list—Slow Cooker Garlic Butter Chicken. It looked easy and it was. My husband loved it. He said the flavor was great and it really was. I even made my own croutons, which soaked up the delicious sauce perfectly.
New England is experiencing real “depths of winter” cold right now. (It’s giving late January vibes.) Given the very cold weather and the knee, I think this was a success. And so easy.
Next time I’ll put the croutons in the dish first to absorb as much sauce as possible 😋
165 Congress Street in Portland is a John Calvin Stevens building. Stevens (1855-1940) was Portland’s most prolific architect. He was known for Shingle-style and Colonial Revival designs.
My son and I took a trip to Portland in July 2021, when he was a 20-year old college student. We rented an AirBnB in the historic Munjoy Hill neighborhood of Portland (which is where these cool indigo doors are located). We had a nice time walking around, eating, and shopping. We also went to the outlets in Freeport, Maine and got a bunch of clothes.
A lot of mothers say that it’s hard to stay close to adult sons once they get busy with their own families and careers. I hope that doesn’t happen to us. My son turns 25 next week. My baby. We’ve got a shopping trip planned for next Friday.
This is the pic that came up today when I searched the ginormous folder on my computer for a “door.”
There was no geographic info in the file name or photo data. All I know is that it was taken with my old Canon PowerShot camera in June 2011 and that the two kids on the balcony are mine.
I had no recollection of this moment, but Google Lens figured out the location (amazing). It’s downtown Winchester, Massachusetts (my husband’s hometown). My father-in-law was alive and still living there at the time, so it makes sense.
It’s an area now called “Winchester Terrace.” AI found this photo on Apartments.com that shows the exact spot:
At the top of the staircase on the right is the spot I posed my kids in 2011.
This discovery sparked a memory of my very dear father-in-law—“Nonno” to my kids.
He was most the wonderful man who enjoyed life’s small moments like no other. Martini time, a beautiful operatic aria, an excellent meal, a grandchild’s kiss (he called it a “buzz”), a friendly joke with a stranger (especially waitresses!), and random bits of foreign languages sprinkled into any conversation. He always made me feel like the most amazing, interesting, gorgeous woman who ever lived. A true charmer. He lived well into his 90s.
A little over a year ago, I saw the Northern Lights for the first time on the way to choir practice and wrote a post about it.
Last night at about 9pm, thanks to Facebook, I was alerted that the aurora borealis was again visible in the skies above our town. Not as bright as last year, but still very cool.
Photo taken from my back porch facing northThe Northern Lights do not look as bright to the naked eye as they do in photos, but I could distinctly see both the pink and the green with my own eyes.
I texted my kids and my parents to look north and my daughter saw some beautiful pinks where she lives in southern central Massachusetts:
My father saw them for the first time in his 91 years and he was a pilot who has been to Alaska several times and also to Iceland. Here was his photo from two towns over:
Wild turkeys in my neighborhood on Halloween day, 2025
At this time of year it always strikes me as funny that flocks of wild turkeys casually walk through our suburban neighborhoods, not at all concerned with the humans who are right this minute planning their Thanksgiving dinners.
Good GOD I’ve taken a lot of photos of church doors over the years—especially for a Unitarian.
Here’s another one in the Protestant realm:
This is the entrance door of St. Ann’s Chapel in Kennebunkport, Maine, which has to be one of the most beautiful—perhaps THE most beautiful— seaside chapel in all of New England.
Built in the late 19th century (The Gilded Age), this church operates in summer only, when the well-heeled WASPy residents of Kennebunkport are in town (including the Bush Family).
What really got me was the OUTDOOR chapel with the sweeping views.
The rocky coast of Maine near the chapel
Nice view
Seriously, this chapel has the best New England location I’ve ever seen
As descendants of “peasants” from Italy, our ancestors were more likely to have hauled the rocks to build this church than to have ever visited it.
Multiple Bush family weddings have taken place here. They are longtime, generous supporters of the church and their compound—Walker’s Point—is close by. Not to get political, but I can’t believe I’ve lived to an age where I think of the Bush family with some fondness. Thirty-year old me would not have believed it! I’ll take Walker’s Point over Mar-a-Lago (and all it represents) any day of the week.
We have a woman in our church choir with dementia or Alzheimer’s (not sure of her official diagnosis). She has a lovely singing voice. In fact, she was a music teacher at one point.
But Susan (not her real name) is getting worse. She has an extremely difficult time keeping track of her sheet music and the folder it lives in. Last Sunday, as we began to warm-up before the congregation arrived, she turned to me and said, “I have no idea why I’m standing here, but I was a music teacher once.” She gets upset when she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s never caused a scene or melted down, but her anxiety is a real issue. She needs constant reassurance. And she can get snippy with people who are trying to help her.
Her partner Jim is a nice man who has already lost both of his adult daughters to diseases. He’s doing his best, but this has got to be really tough on him.
The plan now is to make a formal schedule whereby her fellow sopranos will take turns supporting her each week, so that nobody gets stuck doing it all the time. It’s going to mean showing up early, sitting with her, making sure she has music, reassuring her throughout the rehearsal and performance, and then making sure she gets back to Jim.
To be perfectly honest, I’m not looking forward to it. I never knew this woman before she had dementia. She’s not a family member of mine. I have no special fondness for her.
But clearly, I need to step up. That’s the whole point of church, especially Unitarian Universalist churches, where belief in God is optional. “Community” is the goal. I know that if I get dementia (or cancer or anything else), these people will support me. They are GOOD PEOPLE. Most are better than me. (I’m not just saying that. They really are.)
Here’s something Susan said to me in one of her sweeter moments: “I have a trick for when I don’t know what’s going on. I smile more.”
I’m going to try to remember that. Smile more. If she’s annoying me with her inability to follow along and constant questions, I’ll smile at her. She has a lovely smile. And so do I.
Selfie on the rail trail. I was trying to get a pic for a self-portrait for painting class.Our rail trail yesterday
Smiling in annoying or uncomfortable situations might not help. But it can’t hurt. I think this might be a uniquely American thing.
My college in Hartford, Connecticut had a spectacular gothic chapel on the quad. So Hogwarts! We were not an Ivy League school, but with that chapel on the quad—and scores of rich classmates from the snootiest boarding schools on the Eastern Seaboard—we could pretend we were. A couple of my more diligent classmates were able to transfer to Ivy League schools after freshmen year, but most of us just stayed and partied in Hartford.
My daughter had absolutely no interest in attending a small, private liberal arts college, but we did stop by one day when we were passing through the area. And the chapel still looked gorgeous.
My daughter in front of my college’s chapel doors in 2013.
The same doors as seen through an arch on the day of my graduation in 1987.
I no longer own a 35mm camera, so all my pics are cell pics these days, but it’s fun to join in a creative group activity like John’s Cellpic Sunday.
Goosewing Beach Preserve, Little Compton, Rhode Island, USA, August 2025
I took this with the ultra wide lens (0.5x) on my iPhone 15. I like it because it captures lots of beach & sky and my legs look very long and tan and no cellulite is visible at that angle. They almost look like my old legs from my lifeguard days.
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