Cynthia Lord's Blog, page 67

Wordless Wednesday

Owls Head, Maine. Photo by my husband, John

From My Mail

Here are some lines from the kids' mail I answered today that made me smile or touched me.

 
I purposely put a polar bear address label on the envelope (I heard that your dog Milo looks just like one!)

My family and I have this big debate whether you can swim in the ocean in Maine or not in the summer. Can you? And if so, have you ever been? --Audra

At first I thought I wouldn't like Rules, but when I finished I was truly wrong. It was one of the best books I ever read. --Alban

I really like your books because they have meaning. I think the meaning in your books is that everyone is different but they should be treated the same. --Zoe

My family is very important to me and I often stop and think, "What would I do without them?" I can never think of an answer and I hope I never have to.  --Madelyn  (P.S. I wrote my wish under the stamp just like Tess did).



At the beginning of the year one of the girls in my grade scared me because I thought she was different. But once I got to know her better, I was surprised how kind, caring, and smart she was.  --Emma

Rules reminds me to treat people with disabilities with respect and fairness. --Jake

I know I am capable of managing meltdowns and embarrassment from my brother, and Catherine does that, too.  Just like her, I tried to change my brother. Thank you for reminding me that I love my brother and sometimes I'm the one who needs to change. --Susie

I have three autistic brothers, and I instantly fell in love with your book. In fact, still to this day, I have to give you a million thumbs up. --Shannon

I liked how you stretched out the print in Rules, like "A-r-e  y-o-u." --Emily

All of my questions will give you a lot to think about!  --Haley

I have been looking for books about families like mine. I read a few, but most were very sad. But then I found Rules. I had found a book I could refer to and that I could love. --Reagan

Ahhhh

Milo with his Angry Bird Christmas toy. 

We had a lovely Christmas full of family and fun and lots of good food. I even had a surprise visit from my cousin yesterday. He was driving through Maine on his way to Bar Harbor and stopped to say hi.  What an unexpected treat!

And this morning feels like a new start--we woke up to another dusting of snow, and I'm ready to go back to work on my book now. 

Merry Christmas

Wishing you all a day of wonder and joy.

Home for the Holidays

  My parents, my sister and her family are all coming up to lunch at our house today.  So yesterday, I bought lobster here so we can have lobster rolls.  This is mostly a fish market, but they have four tables to eat at, and when you open the door, a marvelous cloud of fried clam and chowder smells waft out to meet you. 

I told Milo if he's very good today and wears the cute jingle-bell collar, they will be a few bites of lobster for him.

Let it Snow (just not too much)!

I'm drinking my coffee, watching the snow out the window. We went to New Hampshire yesterday to John's brother's house, and tomorrow, my parents and sister and her family come to us. Luckily, most of my errands can wait until this afternoon when the snow should be done.

The photo is from a webcam in Damariscotta, Maine. So if you don't live in a place with snow, you can watch it with me with the webcam. :-)  Here's the link:

http://www.mcbs.dirigosystems.com/ 

I have this webcam bookmarked on my laptop. When I travel and start missing home, I click the link to see a familiar street and what the weather is like in Maine.  It always centers me again. 

Winter

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape -- the loneliness of it -- the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it -- the whole story doesn't show. --Andrew Wyeth



A couple days ago, I had half an hour to spend before an appointment, so I used the time to take some photos. I was thinking about this quote by Andrew Wyeth as I looked around me.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone-structure of the landscape



the loneliness of it



the dead feeling of winter.



Something waits beneath it



the whole story doesn't show.

In Maine, we all sigh over winter, but there is something necessary in it for me as a writer.  Not just the stripping away of distractions that winter brings, but that loneliness and spareness--there's a creative richness there.  

Wordless Wednesday

Boothbay Harbor Library Sing-Along, Boothbay Harbor, Maine. Photo by my husband, John

Signs of the Season

Every year, we make Christmas cookies using Tasha Tudor's sugar cookie recipe. It's the best sugar-cookie recipe I've ever found (how could you go wrong with a pound of butter?! It makes dozens and dozens of cookies, though. I usually halve the recipe during other times in the year. Or I freeze some of the dough for later).

We cut them into various shapes.  Back in 2006, my daughter decorated a batch of bear cookies that looked like they were from the movie Flashdance! 

  Don't you think so? 

So every year since then, we do the usual trees and stars and stockings and State of Maine.



And one cookie sheet full of:

Flashdance Bears!

The Flea Market

Brunswick, Maine. Photo by my husband, John

My son has discovered the joy of flea markets. So every Sunday one of us takes him to a big indoor flea market near us. Not only is there a mishmash of stuff, there is a mishmash of people.

My son loves to get VHS movies for $1 each, but the characters are what I love: The little Korean lady who tells us with bright enthusiasm that her things are "All 50% off! Today"--Every. Single. Week.  The soft-spoken, outdoorsy man with his old tools--the wooden handles hand-worn from use, like something you might find in an old barn. The woman who doesn't come to staff her booth until after she's played the organ at church that morning. The goat farmers who sell wreaths. The older man who has literally more than a hundred salt and pepper shakers (Someone's lifetime collection?). . . .it's two enormous rooms full of backstories.

A writer's dream.