Wednesday, August 6, 2014



When I was young my cousin and I always laughed at what the aunts and uncles talked about when they got together.   The women always talked about their ailments or people they new that were dead and the men always talked about the weather. 

Even today when I write my cousin (the only kin that I keep in touch with) I always begin the letter with the weather.   Perhaps it is something in my DNA.  

Well, the temperature here in the western Maine mountains was sixty-six yesterday and it is fifty-two and foggy this morning.  

It seems a little early but there are already red leaves starting to appear on the maple tree in front of the house and on the sumac along the road.   This could be the sign of an early fall and long winter. Perhaps I should consult the wooly-bully caterpillar

I still have one more cord of firewood to have delivered.   So far I have about two and a half  cord in my woodshed and that is what I expect to burn in a normal winter; but better too much than run short.  

Some folks might think that the beginning of August is a little too early to begin thinking about winter – but they don’t live in rural Maine.    In Maine you are either in winter; relived to see winter go; or thinking about the next winter.  

Don’t get me wrong: I love winter – especially that first crisp white snowfall of the year.   Winter is why we choose to live in Maine.  

the Ol’Buzzard


  1. I see you call them "wooly-bully caterpillars" -- we call them "wooly-bears." Either way, I love them and when I was a kid, would always let them crawl along the back of my hand.

  2. Although we haven't lived here long enough to know what's typical this summer in Halifax has definitely been the coolest and rainiest yet. I've actually quite enjoyed it so far.


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