





Last night felt like peak summer in New England.
First we had this.
Then this.
Then this.


Related:
Lo and behold, I’m able to answer today’s daily prompt! (Typically I see a message saying that I have already answered the daily prompt, as I’ve been blogging regularly for well over a year now.)
How do you waste the most time every day?
The big news is that I started this blog when I turned 50 and named it accordingly, but the seasons…they go round and round…and now I’m 60.
And, I’m still wasting far too much time looking at social media. I’ve even added TikTok to my repertoire. Oy.
But here’s what I’m going to try to stop wasting so much time on this decade: controlling situations and worrying about outcomes. I’m really REALLY going to try to live in the moment more. I want to enjoy my life.
Stephanie’s terrific response about worry reminded me that just recognizing when you’re fretting is a step in the right direction.
From the moment we get a positive pregnancy test to the day we die, moms will worry about their kids, but the active “molding” phase of that job is over for me. I can relax. I’ve told my kids everything I think they should know. We got them all the shots, hosted all the birthday parties, went to all the games, helped with all the homework, paid all the tuition bills. We did good! If I die tomorrow, they will be fine.
So, as a first step, here’s three things I enjoyed recently:
Final thought: hating DJT and everything he represents and does has been a pretty major feature of the past ten years for me. In order to enjoy my life more, I need to somehow let that go a bit. My feeling is that maybe by staying involved in my church (which is full of activists), I can feel like I’m doing something without letting the political situation make me feel hopeless. Would love any tips that other like-minded people may have about this.

As of today, May 31, 2025, Greater Boston is experiencing its 12th consecutive rainy weekend. Since early March, every weekend has included some measurable rainfall, with more than half of those weekends seeing rain on both Saturday and Sunday.
GenX, there are a couple of rain songs from our childhood that will never leave my brain.
The first is “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters. It came out in 1971.
The other one is “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” by BJ Thomas. (I didn’t know the artist. I looked it up just now.) It came out in 1969, so perhaps only older GenXers like me remember this one. Apparently it was featured in the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” but I don’t remember that. I just remember singing the song along with the radio, with the most memorable line being “Just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed.” I always pictured that guy. His feet must have been enormous.
What are your rain songs? You know—those songs that just emerge in your brain on rainy days.
As my friends and classmates continue to hit the big SIX-OH, it’s a natural time to look back. After all, we’ve most definitely got more years behind us than in front of us now. (Although there was one lady in France that made it to 122.5 years old.)
Another friend posted about going deep into the woods (off the grid) for his big birthday weekend. No party or foreign travel for him. Just weed and contemplation I guess.
When we were all sophomores in high school, Ronald Reagan was elected President of the United States. In my mind, this was when the “fringe & ponchos” 70s truly ended and materialistic preppiness became fashionable. We replaced our earth shoes with boat shoes. Brand name labels (Izod, Polo, etc) were everything.
And as every true GenXer knows, the definitive preppy color combo was and always will be: Pink & Green. It’s not a color combo I wear much anymore, but I sure do like it in a garden.



We’re getting pretty lousy weather for Memorial Day weekend—the kick-off of “summer” here in New England. It’s currently 43 degrees F and raining. My heat is running. (They’re saying it’s a slow moving Nor’easter.) Last weekend wasn’t much better.
I was in Portland (Maine) last Friday and Saturday. We saw some sun on Friday, but by Saturday the downtown was misty and chilly.

By Friday evening, the chilly mist had rolled in. It almost looked like part of the ship was on fire in the dark. There was a darker eerier blue/black mist coming from one section of it.

My friend Gail and I like to investigate mysteries we encounter on vacation. Here’s what we learned (but feel free to skip this part and go right to the food photos at the end):
The dark, smoky mist being emitted from the ships exhaust stacks was due to the ship’s use of exhaust gas cleaning systems, commonly known as “scrubbers,” during maintenance operations. The MSC Meraviglia was docked in Portland for emergency repairs, specifically to replace damaged propeller blades. Since the ship couldn’t return to a dry dock, dive teams conducted underwater repairs, utilizing hydraulic grinders to remove and replace the faulty blades. During this period, the ship operated its engines to power onboard systems, leading to the activation of its scrubbers. These systems are designed to reduce air pollutants by “washing” exhaust gases, but they can produce visible emissions, especially when the ship is stationary and undergoing maintenance. The emissions sparked concerns among local residents and environmental groups. While scrubbers reduce airborne pollutants, they can transfer contaminants to the water, potentially harming marine ecosystems. In response to over 50 complaints, city officials engaged with the ship’s captain, resulting in a switch to cleaner-burning fuel to mitigate the environmental impact. (It didn’t look much cleaner to me, but I didn’t see the smoke earlier in the week.)
This blog explains what was happening with the MSC Meraviglia and how some states (like California) ban scrubbers near the coastline.
Honestly, the cruise ship industry seems so environmentally harmful and disease-prone, I’m not quite sure why cruises are so popular.
We saw the MSC Meraviglia leave the harbor on Saturday, but another huge ship had pulled in. (At first, we thought the Meraviglia had just moved to a different spot, but then we saw it was the MS Zuiderdam.)
The MS Zuiderdam, operated by Holland America Line, was docked in Portland, Maine, as part of its 15-night “Atlantic Seaboard & Colonial New England cruise,” which began in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and ended in Quebec City, Canada.
PORTLAND FOOD
Given that the weather was bad, we abandoned plans to take the ferry to Peaks Island and decided to try as many of Portland’s popular eateries as possible. We ate our way through the Maine mist.






Not pictured, but highly recommended: Gelato Fiasco on Fore Street. The gelato is delicious and they also have great coffee and tea. They’ll even make you an affogato—a single or double espresso shot poured over gelato.


Portland is less than two hours from Boston, so it’s not a bucket list destination for me. I’d been there before and I’m sure I’ll go there again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Portland in warm sunny weather though. It’s always misty and grey for me.
But hey, it’s Maine.
One final note: the city gives liberal/hipster vibes. I saw not one MAGA hat, shirt or sign, which is a major plus for me. In the 2024 U.S. presidential election, Kamala Harris won Portland with approximately 80.5% of the vote, while Donald Trump received about 15.6%. Good job Portland. I’ll be back.

Tiny bell-shaped blooms
Sweet, intoxicating scent
I bring a few in

Happy Mother’s Day
💕

Lilac bough arches
over the sidewalk it calls
Bury your face here
Patriots Day is a special Massachusetts holiday commemorating the start of the American Revolution. In case you don’t know the story: On April 18, 1775, British regulars (aka “Red Coats” because they wore bright red uniforms) marched from Boston to seize weapons stored by colonial militias in Concord. Paul Revere and others rode ahead to warn colonists. At dawn on April 19 in Lexington, Red Coats confronted about 70 militiamen (aka “Minute Men” because they could be ready to fight in a minute); a shot was fired—“the shot heard ’round the world”—and fighting began. Eight colonists were killed. The British continued to Concord but met fierce resistance. Amazingly, the Minutemen forced the Red Coats to retreat to Boston under heavy fire using fighting skills they learned from native people. A bunch of ragtag New England farmers chased the world’s most powerful army back to Boston with their tails between their legs. This marked the start of the American Revolutionary War.
Patriots Day is also the day they hold the Boston Marathon and many people have it off work.
This year, Massachusetts is kicking off the 250th birthday celebrations for the entire country. We’ve had all sorts of patriotic celebrations this weekend—all with a decidedly anti-Trump sentiment.
If you have time, it’s worth watching historian Heather Cox Richardson give an address at the Old North Church detailing the events leading up to the “midnight ride of Paul Revere.” One of her final points is that the two men who lit the lanterns in the steeple to start the process of warning the colonists that the British were approaching “by sea” were not doing anything extraordinary. They were just doing what they considered to be “the next right thing” at that time.
Since the heartbreaking election in November, I haven’t felt much like getting back out there and joining the resistance, but Patriots Day is special.
I was there in Concord for the Bicentennial in 1976, and wasn’t going to miss out this year. It felt like “the next right thing.”











No Kings.
🇺🇸
I’m starting to use ChatGPT a lot now. For example, yesterday I had nothing on my calendar so I asked Chat to suggest three local adventures for me and my husband within 30 minutes of my house. One of the suggestions I had never been to (or even heard of): The Bancroft Castle. Intriguing! It looked like a little bit of Ireland in the next town over.
As we were about to leave, my husband was being grumpy (it was about 45 degrees and windy), so I ditched him and went alone.
Here’s the story: In 1906, after a long career as a soldier, politician, and businessman, General William Bancroft began building his lavish retirement home on a scenic hill in his old hometown (as Harvard Men do). He even had a pretentious name in mind: Shawfieldmont. But Bancroft’s dream project only got so far, when he ran out of money. He kept the property for 12 years, but then sold it to Harold Ayres, a physician who converted the structure into a “sanatorium.” Through the 1920s, patients in the area suffering from ailments like tuberculosis (who could afford to pay $20 a week) reaped the benefits of the fresh air and treatments offered by the Groton Private Hospital, as Ayres named his facility.
When the hospital closed down toward the end of the decade, the space segued from sanatorium to social center, where dances and other events were held by the Groton Hunt Club. The fox hunting-related festivities came to end when parts of the structure burned down after a firecracker accident on the Fourth of July, 1932. (Oops, but at least the foxes could rest easier.)



Kind of creepy, right? And I was the ONLY person up there! But I was brave and went in.


I headed up to top of Gibbet Hill from the castle (despite heavy winds) and the view was pretty spectacular.



Thanks Chat. That was interesting.