What Are YOU Doing These Strange Days?

Some of my indoor activities

And no, I do not generally have my books and journals on the kitchen counter. They were only gathered together there briefly (next to chocolate chip cookies on a rack and fresh fruits and vegetables in bowls and my cell phone on the charger) so I could economize on the number of images for this post, because the only way I have wifi “in place” (the library in Willcox, along with the schools, is closed due to the coronavirus pandemic) is by using my phone to create a hotspot, and while I have unlimited calling and texting on the phone, I do not have unlimited data, and I’ve been burning through my available data so far this month, posting to my various blogs and keeping up with friends on Facebook.

So the cell phone makes possible the online part of my life at present. It also makes possible the all-important calling and texting with family and friends — family as far away as Michigan, friends as near as right across the road, because we are all practicing social distancing, in order to stay safe and keep others safe, as well. 

My journals have taken on new importance for me as the days go by. Begun in December, they were only some kind of scrapbook-in-words, recording what I wanted to hold as memories of another winter in my beloved southeast Arizona. Gradually larger issues crept in and now absorb many pages, but even so, I continue to record the small and near at hand. My journal entries are free-ranging, like the cattle here in Dos Cabezas: there’s no saying where they may wander.

This morning I noticed a phenomenon connected to handwriting — the way my mind runs out ahead of my hand and shapes and reshapes sentences as they are being written. Once in a while I go back to scratch out a word or insert a phrase, but most of the time my insertions and deletions have been done mentally before my pen has gotten farther along. The rhythm of writing by hand, on paper, is very different from what I’m doing now, tapping at a keyboard, fingers flying, and seeing my words appear on a screen in front of me. The screen is more distant than the page, the page much more intimate. But some of what I write on my journal pages I later translate to the screen, and even when what you find here was composed on a screen rather than a page, I hope some of the intimacy of my thoughts comes through for you, my readers. 

You already know I do a lot of reading. That’s been evident from the very beginning posts of this blog in 2007. The comfort of books is not limited to reading them, however. There is looking at them and touching them, admiring them on the shelves. And now, beginning yesterday, in a more librarian-type undertaking, I began the task of making a catalog of my Western collection. So far the catalog is only author, title, category (broadly conceived), but I may go back and add publication dates. Already the nascent catalog been helpful to me in seeing where there are gaps in my personal library. For example, I’ve read books on Cochise, but those were library books. I have books of my own on Victorio and Geronimo but none on Cochise. 

We’ve all been cooking and baking more, haven’t we?  What delicious meals and treats are coming out of your kitchen these days? Food is such a comfort! Even the aromas of food add to our quality of life, don't they?

The Artist and I consider ourselves very fortunate, in that we are not sequestered in a city apartment (snowbound or otherwise) but can get out in the sunshine every day. The Artist has set up a little studio space in an outbuilding, Sarah and I have adventures with our neighbors, and for all of us there are daily explorations very close to home. So much to discover in a a ghost town, where traces of the past linger to the present day!

Often when I am on the phone with my son (our conversations daily since the unexpected decline and death of his father mere weeks ago), I am outdoors, and part of what I’m seeing I describe to my son and sometimes photograph, either while we’re talking or after we’ve ended our chat for the day. He also tells me what's happening in his world, where yesterday it was snowing in Kalamazoo and where he often sees deer in the backyard. We picture each other's worlds across the miles that way. 

I don’t often look straight up into the sky and might have missed this unique cloud formation, had I not been on the phone. The tiny, tiny flowers (most people would call them weeds) I would no doubt have noticed sooner or later, but because I was sitting in one place, I saw them sooner. 

The Artist and I have not been taking long drives to other areas of Cochise County for a while now, but there is plenty to notice and wonder and learn about right here in our own backyard. Next time I post here, I think it will be about adobe. But we’ll see. The “situation,” local, national, global, is changing daily. While I see right now a cardinal in the mesquite in front of the cabin, tomorrow it will undoubtedly appear somewhere else, and it could be that what I anticipate sharing with you the next time I write here will be superseded by another story. 

And you have stories of your own, too. What are they? This was Michigan when we left in December. So much has happened since then, it seems like a lifetime ago. Does it seem that way to you, too?

Friday Report from Michigan's Little Easy

A visitor today from farther south in Leelanau County remarked that Northport looked "kinda quiet" to him. Really? He thought that? It seemed very busy to me! But then, we don't go in for elbow-to-elbow crowds here, except on the Fourth of July and dog parade day. Northport should really be called the “Little Easy.” Like New Orleans, we’re not on the way to anywhere else--if you come here, it's because this is where you set your compass. Also, like the Big Easy, we got our own way of doin’ things here. This is life in the slow lane. That doesn’t mean nothing is happening--don’t be fooled. There’s things goin’ on, cher. You just gotta seek 'em out.



For starters, there’s the Friday Farmers Market, down by the marina parking lot, just past the Depot. In June, local produce means, among other things, local strawberries; any time of the summer, you’ll find local honey and fresh-baked bread; and I don’t know about your heart, but there’s nothing to warm mine like the sight of young people involved in growing produce to bring to our local market. Here's the gang from Bare Knuckle Farm with their gorgeous edibles:




Busy bookstore day, Sarah greeting and charming, i.e., playing proprietor, while I played clerk. Division of labor. It works.

A little after five o’clock, after closing Dog Ears Books until tomorrow, I made way up Mill Street to David Chrobak’s latest venture, a little shop where he is selling various items he has collected over many years and housed in the Old Mill Pond B&B. David’s looking to downsize, and that means opportunity for new collectors. Today was opening day at Pot of Gold, and by the time I got there he’d sold a third of what he’d started with that morning—but never fear, there are literally tons remaining, and the shop will feature new items (that’s “new”) on a daily basis.



Finally, to wrap up the last Friday in June, Northport’s first “Music in the Park” featured the Stray Dogs from 7 to 9 p.m. I’m betting there was a good crowd, as this is a favorite weekly summer event for many who call Northport home or home-away-from home, and the rain seemed to be holding off, but I'll have to find out tomorrow from someone else. The front porch of the old farmhouse was calling my name....

A Night Out in Traverse City

It’s all about Northport today, so first, before a look backward to yesterday evening, here are a few reminders about TODAY: Saturday, June 19 – Northport Lighthouse and Marina Festival, including famous Northport Fish Boil, at Haserot and Marina Parks, down by the water. Also at 7:30 p.m. Leelanau Children’s Choir and Youth Ensemble spring concert, “Simply Sondheim,” at the NCAC. Tickets available at Dog Ears Books and at the NCAC. $15 adult/$5 under 18 years of age.

So, about last night. Last night was a big night for us in Traverse City, with the season opening reception at the Artisan Design Network gallery, and on our way from parking lot by the Boardman River to gallery on Front Street we met this beautiful working horse, Buddy. He and his driver take people on carriage rides, and I’d love to do that some summer evening—get all dressed up and take in the sights to the gentle clip-clop of Buddy’s hooves on pavement. Shades of Mackinac Island! Or Manhattan....



No time for a carriage ride last night, though. On to the gallery, where friends were spilling out onto the sidewalk.



In we plunged. We admired the art (especially David’s paintings, because naturally we are biased), visited with old friends and met new people. David schmoozed and I photographed. Crowds, heat, noise and wine don’t make for the most serene atmosphere in which to view art, but an opening is an opening, and this was a good one, beautiful and well attended.




We were just very tired afterward. I, in fact, sneaked out a couple times, once to the alley behind the building and later to the sidewalk in front, to catch a breeze and snap a few urban shots, a change from my usual country and small town fare.



This morning Sarah and I managed a mini-vacation on the rocky beach of Peterson Park, but those pictures will have to wait a day or two.

Community: It's All About Connections

I've identified a phenomenon that was begging for a name. Interblogging! As I conceive this phenomenon, it’s more than posting a link. It involves, besides the link, referring within a post to someone else’s post. Last night Kathy and I interblogged, because she visited my bookstore and photographed the event, which I neglected to do. Marjorie and I have been interblogging lately, too, and today is another example, as I’m sending you over to see her photographs of some of her favorite Northport hangouts. Since she doesn’t (yet) accept comments on her blog, I’ll add here that the little bark-covered building on the corner of Mill and Nagonaba, one of the five northern Michigan buildings that once housed Dog Ears, is definitely not the oldest building in town. It was built in the 20th century (I forget what decade) for $500. The building directly to the west, however, another former business home of mine, was the original Morgan’s store and is right up there in the running for oldest building. The Willowbrook? I don’t know. I do know that it was not, despite the water wheel, the old mill building; that latter was, naturally, on the millpond.

For yet another day I’m postponing my post (that sounds strange) on horses and dogs to get in a plug for upcoming Northport events. It is, after all, only three days to the Northport Lighthouse and Marina Festival, which includes the traditional Northport Fish Boil! That’s this Saturday. And in the evening is the spring concert by the Leelanau Children’s Choir and Leelanau Youth Ensemble, another don’t-miss event. Everyone involved has been working hard to make the festival, the fish boil and the concert events worth the trip to Northport.

When you come to town, take the time also to look around at all beautiful gardens. Nagonaba Street in the last block before the marina park is particularly beautiful. The picture below also reminds me to remind everyone else that the Northport Area Heritage Association (NAHA) museum is open at the depot (I'm not sure if it's every day but pretty sure it's Thursday through the weekends), offering a peek into Northport's past. North of the depot is also the Visitors Center. There are people all over town to satisfy your curiosity and help you find your way around.

Where Do My Stories Come From? Where Do They Go?

(Today's pictures are all from home rather than bookstore. Yes, my personal trainer and I actually got out in the woods yesterday! The beautiful peonies, Festiva Maxima, are from a friend's garden.)


When I reveal to friends that I wrote ten short stories over the winter, the questions that immediately follow are, “What are you doing with them?” and “Are you still writing?” The answers, respectively, are “Nothing” (or “Not much”) and “Not right now.” Here’s why.

In January I woke up on our first morning in Aripeka with a character taking shape in my head and bits of sentences pulling me out of sleep. Many mornings were like that. There was nowhere I had to be, nothing much I had to do other than explore my own emerging fictional world. Oh, I had to cook and clean a little and get Sarah outdoors, but those activities were pleasant breaks from the writing. The fallow ground of that miraculously unencumbered time was almost instantly fertile.

My “real” life is very different. I love my home and love my bookstore, but my mind here, at home and at Dog Ears Books, is much more occupied and preoccupied. Its contents are not fictional; they are much more mundane. I wake to thoughts like this:

The garden needs watering before I go to work. Are the beans up yet?* What date is graduation? Elizabeth Buzzelli’s appearance at the bookstore is set (June 11), but I still need to schedule Don Lystra and Stephanie Mills, coordinate a double-header with Anne-Marie Oomen and Benjamin Busch, and figure out when Al Bona’s book of poetry will finally come back from the printer so we can plan his book party. My back order of Brad Hirschfield’s book arrived—what a relief! The Belko Peace Lecture is much earlier this year, though, so how will the turnout be?

That’s not all.



Woody and I urgently need to get a Packing and Shipping Department set up and organized for the Painted Horse Gallery! Supplies! Organization! Did I answer the last set of e-mailed questions from my mentee in Missouri? What is eating my strawberries in the garden, just as they ripen?** Can I afford to buy a few more peonies this year? Should I worry about ticks? If I even think about ticks, I become paranoid! When will our first summer visitors arrive? Should David and I mow again now or wait, and who can we get to mow the big meadow, and what will the weather be for St. John’s Eve this year, and will we find time before snow flies again to get our canoe in the water at least once?

It goes on--.

I need to update my Dog Ears Books site, with summer event dates and the theme of this year’s dog parade! The old tribute to Nikki has been good on the site, but Sarah is 2-1/2 years old now and really deserves a feature page of her own. We really, really need a painted sign on the south side of the building, saying ART AND BOOKS with a big arrow circling around to the front door. It would be so cool! And people would see it when they drive into town! And do people even know that I have tickets at the bookstore for the Leelanau Children’s Choir spring concert?

There are more new books to order, status of back orders to check, displays to change often enough so that everything doesn't look "the same" when people come into the shop. No, summer is not my season for writing fiction or trying to write fiction or worrying about not writing fiction. I’m doing well to keep up with bookstore, garden and blogs, family and friends and local events, and still find time to read a few books.

Here are some dates coming up soon:

Saturday, June 4, 7 p.m. Northport graduation in the small gym. Only 10 graduates this year, but they deserve a big send-off!

Sunday, June 6, 7 p.m. Brad Hirschfield will give this year’s Belko Peace Lecture at Trinity Congregational Church. His title is “Faith Without Fanaticism.” At the reception following his talk, I will have copies of his book available for purchase. They are in the store already for those who want to read him before hearing him.

Friday, June 11, 5-7 p.m. Elizabeth Buzzelli will be at Dog Ears Books to meet her fans and sign copies of her latest Emily Kincaid mystery novel, Dead Sleeping Shaman. She is so much fun! Don’t miss her!

Saturday, June 19 – Northport Lighthouse and Marina Festival, including famous Northport Fish Boil, at Haserot and Marina Parks, down by the water.

Also Saturday, June 19, at 7:30 p.m. Leelanau Children’s Choir and Youth Ensemble spring concert, “Simply Sondheim,” at the NCAC. Tickets available at Dog Ears Books and at the NCAC. $15 adult/$5 under 18 years of age


More announcements will come in the near future, but here’s a tip in advance for the August dog parade: the theme this year (think New Orleans) is “I Want To Be in That Number When the Dogs Come Barking In.” Feeling inspired? Angels? Saints? Musicians? Let your imagination soar!

*Beans are up. Everything is up.
**Birds are eating strawberries.