Monumental

I got the call this morning that my maternal grandfather had passed away in his sleep overnight, two days after his 97th birthday. I had been hoping to get to South Carolina to visit him sometime this winter, as I knew that his body was beginning to fail. My mother hadn't expected him to survive through another year and had just gone down there for an extended stay. It sounds as though he passed shortly before she found him this morning, pretty much as she had put him to bed last night.

I've always felt exceptionally fortunate that all of my grandparents survived well into my adulthood. None of them was famous or particularly known outside of their respective families and communities, but within their realm and within my life, they've been nothing short of monumental. Their presence in my life has always been something I've treasured deeply.

My Granddaddy, Ervin Merchant, was born in 1915 to George and Lessie Baird Merchant. He was 14 when the Great Depression hit and ended his formal schooling, as he and his brothers had to work to help keep the family afloat. He worked for quite a long time as a buyer for the large timber companies, and I remember riding with him as a small child as he paid his work crew, using an old pull lever adding machine to  calculate their wages. As a second career he worked as a driver for the state home for the mentally handicapped, and throughout both those careers, he and my grandmother maintained a farm to feed the family.

Along the way, he and my grandmother raised four kids, became fairly comfortably middle class, traveled the country, built themselves a vacation cabin in the North Carolina mountains, and generally lived the American Dream. Although he spent his entire 97 years living within just a few miles' radius of where he was born, he was most definitely a larger than life person. He could be stubborn as a mule and twice as tough, but he was a fundamentally kind and fair-minded person, and I never heard anyone speak ill of him.

Although we're all feeling a sense of loss, his mind had decompensated badly after my grandmother's death a year and a half ago. I think that escaping in the lost corners of his mind was the only way he could get some temporary respite from his grief, though I don't think it gave him much comfort in the end. Her loss was devastating, and he wasn't able to recover from it. As difficult as it was for the rest of the family to deal with, for him it seemed like pure anguish trying to hold the mental demons at bay while he waited for his body to give out. And for as sad as it is to lose him, there's a definite relief that he can finally have some peace.

Time with the Nieces

My sister's girls (aged 6 and 8) are up visiting their Gram & Pa for a few weeks, so as I was planning to head to my grandmother's on Schoodic Peninsula for a too-short visit while my aunts are up from FL and NC, I swung by my parents' and picked the girls up to get a taste of what my childhood summers were like. We made the trip downeast on Thursday, which was also the peak activity night for the Perseids.

Since the skies were clear and perfect for some spectacular viewing, we fished out a couple of old Army surplus quilts to lay on the ground in the back yard and covered up with a quilt I had in the car. Alison (aka Ash), the younger, decided to stay up with me and we saw some amazing ones before Mary, who is not a night owl, was roused from her nap to come watch for a while.

The next day we headed across the road and down to the shore, where my uncle Brad lives. He was going to take the girls for a little ride in his inflatable raft but decided once they headed out that the water was too choppy for it to be enjoyable and took them for a somewhat longer ride in his big boat, which is moored out in the natural harbor.





The view of Mount Desert Island and the Porcupine Islands was particularly nice.



And the girls really enjoyed the boat ride.



Then we threw together a picnic lunch and headed to Schoodic Point.





And then on to visit cousin Miriam Colwell, who lives in the colonial farmhouse where she was raised by her grandparents and who, at 93, is remarkably spry. While I enjoyed visiting with Miriam and looking at the paintings and sculptures done by her late partner, the artist Chenoweth (Chennie) Hall, the girls were more interested in being kids.



Then we headed on to Corea village, so we could take some photos of the ever-picturesque harbor.





On the way back to the house, we stopped for one last photo op in Prospect Harbor village.



Mary declared it "the most awesomest day ever since we've been in Maine!"

Catching Up

So here we are into the second half of June and I haven't posted since early on the first, before we headed south for my grandmother's funeral. Suffice to say it's been busy as all hell since I got home, and I'm just beginning to feel like I'm breaking the surface a bit to catch my breath. So I guess the thing to do at this point is backtrack a little and talk a bit about the trip.

Mostly it was just good to spend time with family and catch up a little with members of the extended family and people who may as well be family, some of whom I hadn't seen in years. It was also nice to be there with everything all leafed out and lush (And HUMID! Sweet FSM, was it humid!). I'm pretty sure I could never live in that climate again, but little doses remind me of my childhood, and I'm perfectly okay with that.

Another echo of my childhood came the day after the funeral. I had an errand to run and on my way back to my parents' house I spied this beauty on the side of the road:



As far as I can tell, she's an Eastern Painted Turtle of considerable age and, had I weighed and measured her, possibly of record size. She'd left a small farm pond nearby looking for some nicer real estate, but if I hadn't stopped to pick her up, she'd have likely ended up as a turtle pancake on a hot country road.

So after taking her back to my folks' and snapping a few photos, I took her off to the edge of the woods, through which she could get to my grandfather's pond and the creek. I sat down for a bit to see if she'd come out of her shell for a better photo, but she was having none of it. I did, however, manage to pick up a mess of these:



That, friends, is a genuine chigger, a true Southern institution and a rite of passage I really don't enjoy repeating. On the other hand, there were some ripe blackberries near at hand, so just maybe the pleasure slightly mitigated the ungodly itch.

Mary Merchant, 1919-2010

My maternal grandmother passed away Saturday night. It was expected, as her body had been slowly failing her for quite some time. Her health was, in fact, one of the main reasons for my visit in March, as I knew it was likely that I wouldn't get another chance to see her. Hospice was called in a few weeks ago, and being the phenomenal organization they are, they were a tremendous help in easing her transition from this existence to the next.

As is often the way of grandmothers, my Manana (a moniker that came from a cousin's faltering attempts at saying "my Nana", and which a younger cousin would much later shorten to Menah) was an exceptional woman. She was her high school's valedictorian (a new young state senator by the name of Strom Thurmond gave the commencement address) and star girl's basketball player and, according to my grandfather, was the best bareback mule racer in the area.

The photo above is from just after their wedding in 1936, which was just 5 days after her 17th birthday. They first lived in a cabin across the road from her parents, where they had their first child, and from which she went out the next day to work in the fields. It was the Great Depression, and not working was a luxury they couldn't afford.

A few years later, when they bought land about a mile down the road and built the home she would spend the rest of her life in, she and my grandfather fenced in 80 acres of pasture working side-by-side. Having fenced in a smaller section of that same pasture, I know very well what a feat it was, but their relationship was always one of equal partners, and it was from her that I learned about the grace and beauty of a strong woman. Even as her body betrayed her, she maintained her wit and her ability to laugh, but she knew it was time to go and she was ready for it.

Yes, I will miss her dearly, because how could you not miss someone so fiercely wonderful? But it's a bittersweet sort of loss, because in the end there's so much of her in me and in everyone else whose lives she touched. And I can't think of any tribute more beautiful than keeping that part of her alive and sharing it with everyone in my own life. Because again, how could you not?

What I Did on My Spring Break

Well, it wasn't actually a break, but last week I headed down to North Carolina for a three-day Public Health Leadership class, which kicks off my next graduate certificate program and which will all go toward my ultimate plan of a Master of Public Health. The course itself was phenomenal and gave me some useful insight into how I interact with others and tools to improve my communication skills. Even better, though, was that I got to visit with my sister and two youngest nieces, whom I don't see nearly often enough.

The course was over on Friday, and I stayed the weekend just to get in more visiting time. On Saturday, we drove down to Wilmington, where an aunt and a few cousins live, and went to the beach with two of the cousins (and spouse, and girlfriend, and kids). I understand that back at home there was precipitation, some of it of the frozen variety, but I'll confess that I didn't feel guilty. Not one bit.

The Visit with the In-Laws: An Overview

We're on our way to the airport in just a few minutes, and my laptop doesn't seem to be able to recognize David's camera, so this will be brief and sans photos, but it was actually a good visit. They still can't deal with the whole having me as an in-law idea and David's mom introduced at one point as "David's friend", but I wasn't expecting miracles. At the very least, they were pleasant and our time with them didn't have nearly the awkwardness of our last visit to his parents' house in South Dakota.

Aside from that, it was a good chance to meet up with some long-lost friends in the Seattle area, as well as meeting up with a friend I'd only known online until now (Hi, Ryan!). But now it's time to finish packing our stuff back up so we can get back home, where I hear we're finally supposed to be getting a few days of sun, which we actually got quite a bit of here in Washington.

Photos, spectacular and otherwise, when I can get them downloaded.

Whoosh!

That's pretty much how the weekend went by, with David's Wednesday night ER visit only being one in a string of goings-on. Just as I was on my way out of the clinic Thursday morning, David called to tell me he'd gotten a call that Madelyn had gone into labor. It wasn't until I got home that we learned that she'd had a female cria who looked fairly normal but was being very slow to get up and nurse/walk/play - all the things a healthy baby should be doing within a couple of hours.

So that meant making a trip out to check on baby and pretty much dashed any plans I'd had for getting a nap while David picked up his cousin Greg and ran some errands. As we were getting ready to do that, I got another call about a bit of a family crisis which, while not involving me directly at all, is somewhat worrisome, which is about all I can say about it at this point.

Anyway, I got myself cleaned up and we headed off to the bus station to meet Greg, who had flown into Boston a few hours previously. As I mentioned on my last post, this visit was a very big deal - even more so because Greg is the first member of David's family I've met aside from his parents. So documenting his arrival was essential.



Then we quickly hopped in David's truck and made off for the new RedMaple warehouse, both to show the place off and to pick out some sweaters for later. And then we again hopped into the truck and sped off to Val's to see the new baby.



Another adorable baby, and with grey eyes like her sister Juliette. She was, however, not nearly as far along she should have been, acting at 5 hours like a 1-2 hours old cria. A bit of Karo syrup seemed to help, though, and she quickly got up to speed over the rest of the afternoon and so far doesn't seem to be looking back. No name yet, as I haven't had a real chance to think about it, but I'll be working on coming up with something fitting soon.

I had originally planned on making dinner that evening, but by the time we were getting back into town and given my lack of sleep, it was clear that I wasn't really going to be able to throw something together in a reasonable timeframe. Since we had discussed going Indian for dinner, we stopped by Divine Cuisines to see what they had available.

Since their business has been primarily catering and selling at the farmer's market, they don't do a lot of takeout business, but they're preparing to expand and do regular restaurant business, which I'm really looking forward to. The food is very good, and Raj is a nice guy (and very cute). Anyway, they did have enough for us to make a decent meal from, but they were out of naan (recipe below), so I made that when we got home and we had a nice dinner and visit before turning in to rest up for our weekend adventures.

Friday we got up and headed up to Fryeburg for the fair. We got a late start and ran into a horrendous traffic jam of leaf peepers going through Conway, New Hampshire, so we didn't get to Fryeburg until very late in the afternoon, but we still had a fun time eating fair food and looking at the livestock and exhibit halls. I took a few livestock photos, but I figure fiber folks always like the jacob sheep (who can resist all those horns?).



Afterwards, we headed even farther north to Bethel, where I had reserved us rooms for the night so that we could spend Saturday seeing the leaves and doing a bit of hiking. We all went to bed relatively early so that we could be nice and fresh for the day ahead, because in addition to the hiking, David had recruited Greg to be a RedMaple fashion model and we had a bit of a photo shoot planned.



He seems a natural, no? This particular shoot was done at Screw Auger Falls in Grafton Notch State Park. We stopped at most of the park sights along the road, doing photo shoots at some and just exploring at others. We eventually made our way up to where the Appalachian Trail intersects the park and hiked a short section of the trail up to Table Rock. And though the segment itself was short (1.4mi/2.1km), it entailed a vertical rise of about 900ft/270m. My quads are still a bit sore, but the view at the top was definitely worth it.



We decided to do our last photo shoot of the day there, but by then Greg was getting a little punchy (the altitude, perhaps? or maybe just the excitement of a well-crafted alpaca sweater) and the photos got, well, interesting. It's not entirely clear, but there's a little nipple play going on in this photo.



We hadn't intended it to be that kind of photo shoot, but I suppose if it sells sweaters....

And on that note, we made our way back down the mountain and back down the road to Bethel, where we had an excellent meal and some equally excellent beer at Sunday River Brewing Company (thanks to Kit for the suggestion), then made the nearly 3 hour trip back home.

Yesterday was much more relaxed and close to home, with an outing to take a few more pics and let Greg get the obligatory lobster dinner, followed by blueberry-apple pie and silly movies. After a little more driving around the area today, we put him on the bus back to the airport, and he is hopefully having a very uneventful trip home.

Yummy, Yummy Naan

I love, love, love naan, which is really the quintessential Indian flatbread. Of course, there are others - chapatis, pappadam, etc. - but when most people (here in the US, anyway) think of Indian breads, naan is the one that comes to mind most often. I mostly follow the recipe from Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian cookbook, with very slight variation, and have been very pleased with the results.

• 4-5 cups unbleached all-purpose white flour, plus some for dusting
  
• 1½ teaspoons baking powder
  
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
  
• ½ teaspoon salt
  
• 1½ teaspoons sugar
  
• 1¼ cup plain yogurt (note: If you are cooking for vegetarians, please check the label. Some yogurts use gelatin and so are not vegetarian. Even kosher gelatin is usually non-veg, despite misconceptions to the contrary.)
  
• 1 egg
  
• butter ghee, and plenty of it
  

First sift together 4 or so cups of flour with the baking powder, baking soda and salt. Then mix the sugar and yogurt in a large bowl. This can be done with a mixer, but I prefer to use a wooden mixing spoon. Slowly begin beating in about two cups of the flour mix a little bit at a time. It is essential for proper texture to beat this very well, as it encourages the gluten molecules to crosslink. I generally add in roughly ½ cup at a time, stir until mixed, and then beat the batter 100 strokes with the spoon for each addition.

By the time you have beaten in 2 cups of the flour mix, the resulting batter should be smooth but have some obvious resiliency from the activation of the gluten. At this point, mix in the egg and 1 tablespoon of melted ghee, then continue adding in the flour mix in increments until the dough is sticky and getting too thick to stir readily. Then you should turn it out onto a board or countertop with the remainder of the flour mix plus any additional flour needed to keep the dough from sticking. Grease up your hands well with the ghee and knead it briefly until the dough can be shaped into a ball readily. It should at this point still be a bit sticky.

Making sure your hands are still well-greased, divide the dough ball into 8 or 9 smaller balls and place them on a well-floured tray. Flatten them slightly with your hand and cover with plastic wrap or parchment paper. Allow the dough to rest for at least 30 minutes - or refrigerate for up to 48 hours - as this will give the gluten molecules more time to crosslink.

Turn on or light your broiler. If this is in the main oven compartment, then the rack should be set all the way at the top. The original recipe calls for the initial cooking to be done on stovetop with a large cast-iron skillet, but I do it all under the broiler on a cookie sheet.

Take each of the dough balls and dip into flour. Then grease your hands well with ghee and begin to pat out and flatten the dough ball into an oblong shape. You want the dough to be quite flattened. If the gluten has been activated well, it shouldn't tear too readily. Daub both sides with a bit more ghee and slap the nan down onto the heated pan. Cook under the broiler for a minute or so, making sure after about 30 seconds that it is not sticking. Once it has started developing a few reddish-brown spots, flip it over and cook on the other side for another minute or so. Remove the finished naan from the broiler and daub on some more ghee and enjoy.

It's Baaaaack!

Rhinebeck Blogger Bingo is on again this year, and we jumped at the chance to be headquarters again. So follow the link on over to Stitchy's place to get the 4-1-1 on signing up. I already asked if I could be center square like Paul Lynde.



The Outlaws

So a month after David e-mailed his mother and sister to inform them of our wedding plans, and two months after he informed his father, his parents finally got around to sending him individual letters in response. Along with a Bible tract, of course. You can imagine the content.

His mother's letter resorted to the old, discredited Freudian argument and blamed it on his father not being around enough (I told David he should write her and point out that she left out the domineering mother part). Then a lot of the same old bigoted and intentionally inaccurate "research" put out by Paul Cameron and his ilk. Or as she put it, "several in the scientific community," which I think means 3 or 4 whack jobs.

His father's letter proclaimed himself and David's mother as "God's representatives" to David, cited a few Bible verses, and then the tired "you can choose to change" argument. He finished it off with two questions - "Are you happy?" and "Do you want to change?" I think the answers are not what he's hoping to hear.

I know that in their minds they're doing the right and loving thing, but it's just so profoundly dysfunctional (David's sister's response last week was in a similar vein - "The kids are great. You're going to Hell. Love you."). It pisses me off, too, because they've been rehashing the same old crap for the last 16 years and just refuse to see that it's hurtful and accomplishes nothing.

The other issue is that I know that the main reason they're being as difficult as they are right now is that I'm an unavoidable part of the picture. As long as David wasn't cohabiting or in a serious relationship, it was easy for them to walk around with blinders on and pretend not to know anything. My presence spoils that for them, so they see me, naturally, as a threat. Which, of course, means that I can't engage them like I'm itching to do, since it would only justify their view of me as the meddling outsider.

At least I know where we won't be for the holidays this year.

Favorite Uncles

Posting might possibly be a bit sparse this week. My brother's kids are visiting for a few days, and we're dropping them off Thursday on our way to spend a couple nights camping up on Moosehead Lake with my folks.

This evening, we took the kids over to the Nubble Lighthouse at York Beach and got some ice cream (not from the lighthouse, but from a stand nearby).



Tomorrow they want to go see the Old York Gaol, and as it's supposed to be a scorcher, we shall definitely be spending some time at Seapoint Beach.

Visitors not withstanding, a little fiber action did take place. I knit a tiny bit on the Dulaan hat and actually pulled out my Hitchhiker to do a little bit of spinning. I haven't sat at the wheel for a few months now, so it was long overdue and very nice to watch and feel the wool as it drafted out and spun. I have so much fiber that needs to be spun, I really need to sit down regularly to spin a bit of it at a time.

NC Photos

Even though I schlepped my fancy schmancy new camera down to North Carolina with me, I was doing so much running around while I was there that I didn't take very many photos. Here are my favorites, though:

Mary, my sister's 5-year-old, tries out a couple different smiles so I can tell her which one to use for her camera pose.





Brian hams it up with my sister's 3-year-old, Alison (aka Ash, because that's the closest approximation of "Alison" that Mary could muster when her sister was born).



Me with Bill's eldest daughter, Amy (While Amy is my dad's first cousin, she's far closer to me in age - only 4 or 5 years older, as I recall. This was the first time we'd seen each other in over 25 years.). And check out that stylin' sweater.



Sydney and myself with Bill



Bill's wife, Carol, has been keeping an online journal for family & friends to keep us updated on Bill's condition. Apparently his breathing has worsened in the past couple days, but not enough to keep him from talking, which is so very typical of Bill. In fact, I had to laugh when I read Carol's post about that, as I expect he'll keep on talking right up until the very end, if at all possible.

Me at the Neurologist's & a Visit with Bikram

Today was kind of a busy day, for all that I don't seem to have accomplished much. The first order of business was a visit to a neurologist to see what we could try for my Restless Legs Syndrome and associated Periodic Limb Movement Disorder. He sent me to the lab to have my iron levels checked, then home with some samples of Requip, so we'll see if that helps. I'm sure David hopes so at least as much as I do, since he's the one who's borne the brunt of my nighttime flailing.

Then this afternoon I hied myself on over to Portsmouth for my first Bikram yoga class. I was just pleased that I managed not to pass out in the heat. Considering that it's been a couple years since I've done any yoga at all, I think I did pretty well, but it really wiped me out for the rest of the evening. And now my back muscles have tightened up again. And my hamstrings were threatening to cramp on me just a bit ago. But I'll try to stick with it and see where it takes me.