Edgartown News

Live from Stop&Shop

2012-02-14T15:19:00.003-05:00

Happy to see S&S is finally tapping into Mike Haydn's talent (seen here giving a Valentine's Day concert at the store, nestled in between the flowers and the candy). Love it. As one shopper told me, "This makes it so much nicer to shop." Agreed!

Please?

2012-02-14T13:06:00.001-05:00

Courtesy of Donaroma's.

In Absentia

2012-02-13T20:48:00.001-05:00

Testing

2012-02-06T23:03:00.002-05:00

Testing photo settings from phone. Ah! Finally found the setting that allows me to up-load full-size photos. Cool. Such a far (and welcome) cry from this: Link.

This and That

2012-01-15T15:10:00.003-05:00

A few photos - stragglers - left over from the last day of 2011:

Has anyone noticed the brand-spanking-new shutters on our Beautiful Old Church of Whaling Days?

After running a Going Out of Business Sale for at least the past two years, the Wood Shop really meant it this time, and has packed up, bag and baggage, and left us. This was all that was left in the space a couple of weeks ago. In the 1960s, this building housed the First National store, one of four grocery stores on Main Street, downtown, that provided us with our daily bread (Connors' Market, Edgartown Market, and Mercier's Market were the other three). I have it on good authority that the Courtneys are in the process of claiming this space for some type of enterprise, as yet to be determined. Stay tuned.

This lone white brick has been in the sidewalk in front of what is now Past and Presents for as long as I can remember. When the sidewalk was rebuilt, I remember that it was carefully removed from the old sidewalk and inserted into the new one. I have no idea what the history of this brick is. Do any of my gentle readers know the story behind this brick?

A few long January shadows that caught my eye.

Sam

2012-01-11T12:43:00.007-05:00

Sadly, I learned today that my former step-father-in-law, Saverio "Sam" or "Rick" Riccio died last night (but am so glad to have had a very meaningful visit with him only eight days ago).

Coincidentally, Sam's Windemere roommate (and partner-in-mischief-and-good-times in Unit 2, from what I hear), died yesterday morning. When I read John Mayhew's obituary this morning in the Vineyard paper I thought, "Oh dear, Sam will be next." Within the hour, my sister-in-law called with the news of Sam's passing. So yes, you are reading this correctly: John died in the morning, his roommate and pal, Sam, died that night.

Life - and death - continue, at the very least, to fascinate me.

Sam was very proud of his military service and his involvement with the American Legion. This was taken in July of 2005.

Rest in peace, Sam.

*********
Update, January 18, 2012.

I have added the obituary that appeared in the Vineyard newspapers, which I have amended to include his Thibodeau family survivors.

Saverio (Sam) J. Riccio, a resident of Edgartown for many years, and most recently of Oak Bluffs, died on Tuesday, January 10, 2012. He was 94.

Sam was born on June 11, 1917 in Hartford, Connecticut, the son of Leonardo Riccio and Katrina Senatore Riccio. He was predeceased by his wife, Dorothy Viens (Thibodeau) Riccio, and his brothers, Leo, Thomas and Tony.

He was a WWII Army veteran, honorably discharged in 1945 after having served in the Philippines. Sam served as the weigh-master for the Martha's Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby for many years, and was also employed by the Edgartown Harbormaster department as a wharfinger, tending to the many boats that tied up at the finger piers during the summer and making friends with the boaters and the steady stream of people who visited the docks - a job he loved and for which he was well suited and much appreciated.

Sam leaves behind his beloved daughters, Francine Stavola and Marie Mahoney, both of Connecticut, granddaughters Dina Stavola and Claudia Stavola Smith and her husband, Steve, of Connecticut, and great-granddaughter Sabrina Stavola of Connecticut; several nieces and nephews, as well as a step-daughter, Linda Benoit, of West Tisbury and a step-son, Edgar Thibodeau, of Connecticut; thirteen step-grandchildren: Jeffery and Craig Thibodeau and Danielle Kiro; Heather and Jessica Thibodeau and Amanda Adams; Eric and Keith Basset, Juliette Talbot, and Babette Benoit; Adam, Jonathan, and Maria Thibodeau, who, with their families, are spread out from Martha's Vineyard to Connecticut, New Hampshire, New Mexico, and Texas. Sam also leaves behind fourteen Thibodeau great-grandchildren and two great-greats.

He also leaves behind his dear friend, Richard Jennings and his wife, Carol Jennings, of Vineyard Haven, and many friends on the Island, all who will miss Sam very much. In lieu of flowers, please make a donation in Sam's name to a charity of your choice.

A memorial mass and burial followed by a celebration honoring Sam's life is being planned for early April. For more information, please e-mail Dick Jennings: dcjennings1@verizon.net, or Pat Carlet: pcarlet@comcast.net.

Edgartown Harbor, New Year's Eve Day

2012-01-01T12:15:00.002-05:00

The challenge, for me anyway, is to try to see the stuff I've been looking at my whole life in new ways and from new angles. I'm always amazed though - the docks and waterfront are my stomping grounds, an area I am drawn to almost every day, and every time, I think, "Certainly there will be nothing new to photograph today," but every day the light is different, the configuration of boats is different and/or they are pointing in a different direction, and almost always I find somebody doing something of interest.

Happy New Year, everybody.

Tom

2012-01-01T07:38:00.004-05:00

On Friday, while out and about doing errands, I happened upon my friend and local painter Tom Benedict who graciously allowed me to capture these portraits of him. Tom has been a dedicated bike-only traveler for many years and is a familiar figure around town, often seen with paint brushes and buckets dangling strategically from the back of his bike with classical music streaming from his portable radio. One of Tom's most recent public projects was painting all the lamp posts on Main Street, and a couple of years ago he put a shiny new coat of paint on the cannons and cannonballs in Memorial Park. Tom is also an excellent old-timey style five-string banjo player and has published a collection of banjo tablature, written by hand and illustrated with his own pen and ink drawings.

Chamba!

2011-12-31T11:09:00.016-05:00

This is one my more fortuitous street portraits of late. I say fortuitous because yesterday as I was heading out for a late afternoonwalk with my family I discovered that my camera battery was dead (very unusual for me as I am very organized in this department) so decided to make a short stop at home to pick up a fresh battery, all while thinking, "I don't know why I'm bothering, it's so late and will be dark soon and there's nobody much around, anyway," but I'm so glad I did because two blocks later I ran into this gentleman standing on the corner of North Summer and Main. I literally stopped in my tracks and blurted, "Oh, you're so wonderful, please allow me to take your picture, and don't move or change a thing," instructions that he followed very well, I might add.

I learned that his name is Chamba.

These are a conch pots, I think, though they don't look quite like the conch pots I'm familiar with.

I was recently asked, "What's special about taking pictures at twilight?" The question was in reference to my particular combination of camera and lens (5DMKII and 50/1.4), but this photo is as good an answer as any. In short, twilight is a magical in between time when it is dark enough for lights (including celestial objects) to twinkle, but still light enough for the sky, the subject matter, and silhouettes to be seen.

Paul Schultz, December 29

2011-12-29T18:24:00.010-05:00

Today was Paul's penultimate day working for The Trustees of Reservations. He retires at the end of tomorrow's work day. Congratulations, Paul, and best wishes for a happy and healthy retirement.

Some of Paul's responsibilities while working for the trustees over the past twenty years (and nine months) included patrolling the desolate outback of Chappaquiddick's shores as well as tending the Cape Pogue Lighthouse, activities he loved (more photos and related story, here).

Twilight, December 28

2011-12-28T23:58:00.000-05:00

South Beach, This Morning

2011-12-28T14:24:00.005-05:00

I spent a wonderful early-morning hour out at South Beach this morning. I knew it was going to be good when I saw the white water towering above the beach as I approached from Herring Creek Road.

December, Downtown

2011-12-05T15:55:00.000-05:00

Taken with my phone (uploaded to computer first, as loading to Blogger directly does not yield good results, though uploading directly to G+ does work very well - still sussing all of this out)

Ursula Prada and Lenny Jason

Arno Ewing, wrapping it up after a day's fishing.

Arno

A December rose.

2011-11-28T08:08:00.001-05:00

Blogging from the Finger Piers

2011-11-28T08:07:00.001-05:00

Still rather intrigued with being able to blog directly via smartphone. How, I wonder, did I become such a techno-geek?

Eel Pond Treasures

2011-11-26T10:51:00.003-05:00

Today I allowed myself to simply wander, something I don't do enough of. Down at Eel Pond Landing I came upon three people: a couple who were engaged in the self-appointed task of collecting cans, bottles, and especially broken glass (as a person who suffered a badly cut foot here while bringing my dinghy out of the water, I totally appreciate and applaud their efforts). I also received a high school science refresher in the form of a local gentleman (who was collecting a seaweed specimen), who reminded me of the order of things: phylum, kingdom, class,genus, family, species (I hope that's right).I was surprised that it was so easy to recite - not too hard if you pay attention to the rhythm and the meanings of the words (or was that kingdom, phylum,class?).

Note: The above blog post was submitted directly from my new smartphone, on location, as a test to see how my Blogger app worked (never in my life did I think I would ever utter the word app.) And it does work, though I'm not too impressed with the quality of the photos.

Anyway, I got some of the biological classification right, too (not bad for 15 minutes later, I'd say (my theory is, if you tell yourself you're at the age of forgetting things, you definitely will start forgetting almost everything. Fight the dominant paradigm! oops, I digress), though it is actually: Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species. Okay, got it.

Pie Problems

2011-11-25T19:25:00.008-05:00

Here are the two pies I baked - pumpkin on the left, apple on the right - early Thanksgiving morning. Pretty, aren't they? This photo was taken on my new smartphone shortly before the pie on the left slid off its cooling rack on my side table onto the floor. Face down, of course.

I have a problem with pumpkin pies, it seems.

When I was a little girl, one Thanksgiving there was a pumpkin pie cooling in the pantry. When we went to get it we discovered kitty-cat footprints across the top.

Then, a few years ago my daughter and I got up on Thanksgiving morning and discovered we had no pumpkin with which to make the pie – usually I use the canned pumpkin called One Pie. We drove all over the island hoping to find one last, stray pumpkin in a field, but with no luck. We kept driving and when we got back to Edgartown we saw two pumpkins sitting on a porch for fall decorations. So yes, we stole one and took it home, baked it, scooped out the meat and made our pie.

(The last story is not as bad as it first seems – you see, the porch was the office of my sister-in-law’s real estate company. I called her later and told her the story and of course promised to replace the missing pumpkin.)

The good news is, I managed to salvage most of the pie, and it was delicious - though not pretty anymore.

Also, next year we'll have another story to add to our repertoire and we'll have a good laugh: "Remember last year when the pie fell off the table?"

This all reminds me of a little song my mother taught me years ago (and that we sang to baby Ethan yesterday):

A pumpkin ran away
Upon Thanksgiving day,
Said he, "They'll make a pie of me
if here I stay."

Slow Sunday

2011-11-20T14:44:00.002-05:00

Somehow, I never tire of photographing this old friend.

From My Window

2011-11-18T11:36:00.005-05:00

Some days, I don't have to travel far to find something to blog about.

This tree, in John and Pat Hayes' Main Street front yard, two doors down from me, had been ailing for some time. Pat told me back in August that the town was going to remove it, so I grabbed a quick shot of it while it was still standing - just to have the memory of what it has looked like for years and years, and you'll have to admit, it's a classic look. I took this photo in August, but the bare branches seemed to indicate that we were in the middle of winter. So yes, it was time to get the axe.

Earlier this week, Bob Hagerty and his crew spent a couple of days dismantling the old elm.

I love the new view from my bathroom window. The sky above and around the town clock has opened up dramatically, and I don't have to duck and bob and weave to see what time it is anymore.

Sara

2011-11-12T13:40:00.003-05:00

A few self-portraits. Playing with lights and a new black background. Minimal processing; a little softening and sharpening. How strange to be zoomed in on one's own face for a length of time. And how tempting to try and make myself look fourteen again. Nah - I rather like (most of) the wrinkles and bumps. I earned them.

Misty Morning Musings

2011-11-09T08:49:00.002-05:00

This morning's was the kind of light that made me grab my camera and run out the door. That doesn't happen very often.

Sweetened Water Morning

2011-11-08T09:26:00.000-05:00

Vineyard Autumn Session 2011

2011-10-26T21:27:00.002-04:00

Trad in Edgartown! My second annual Vineyard Autumn Session, held at Plantingfield Way. Great-Granny Shurtleff would be pleased.

Living Color

2011-10-16T11:38:00.000-04:00

Autumn Beach

2011-10-12T07:36:00.001-04:00

I do wish I had more time to mess around with this blog (soon, I hope). For today, I turn these pages over to my favorite guest-blogger, my late and great mother, with a photo from the archives, South Beach, circa 1987.

Autumn Beach                by Alison Boylston Piazza

This is the best time, the quiet and good time,

The searching-for-sea-glass and gathering-wood time.

On clean swept sand, an occasional trace

Of sandpiper's footprints, as fragile as lace.

Limpid blue water and tranquil blue sky,

Stillness pierced only by seagull's shrill cry -

This is the best time, this golden fall,

This is the very best season of all.

September 11 Wanderings

2011-09-12T09:50:00.008-04:00

I'm so busy taking pictures for work, along with my myriad other responsibilities, that I don't get enough time to photograph just for the fun of it. Yesterday, realizing that the days of the magical evening light are numbered - for this season, anyway - I grabbed the camera and went out for a brief foray, starting along my usual Main Street/harbor route, and ending up at Bend in the Road, where, along with finding an almost-full moon rising, I happened upon Joanne Scott and family who were celebrating her son Ben Stafford's Saturday wedding with a clambake. The family graciously welcomed me into their circle, smack between the rising moon over Chappy and the gloriously setting sun beyond the waters of Sengekontacket; a fine way to end the day and the weekend - basking in God's glory and surrounded by good cheer.

My first subjects of the evening were this father and daughter, so adorable that their presence on the bench outside of Edgartown Delicatessen fairly begged for a photo. Having never met my own father, I do have a fondness for fathers and daughters.

I met Mike and Catherine down at Memorial Wharf while they were trying to negotiate getting a photo of themselves. Since I happened to be standing nearby with my gi-mongous, professional-looking camera, they figured (correctly) that I might be a good person to ask for assistance. At first they simply wanted me to snap a quick shot with their Lumix (nice camera!), right next to the chain link fence at the ferry ramp (yuck!), but I suggested we look for a better background, which we found upstairs on the observation deck. I happened to notice that Catherine was wearing an engagement ring, and when I said, "Oh, you're engaged," they said, "Yes, we're here to get married, next Saturday." Mike and Catherine also posed for a couple of shots with my camera.

Same Beautiful Old Church of Whaling Days, different light.

The seed-heads on the beach grass tell us it's September.

Almost full moon, Bend in the Road.
And lest anyone think I have overlooked today's date, I offer this David Wilcox composition:

Captain Alexander Weeks

2011-09-08T11:35:00.002-04:00

Boylston house, circa 1950

I recently found the Gazette clipping to which I have referred in previous posts regarding the moving of my Main Street house from Ocean Heights, which I share here (from a 1948 edition of The Vineyard Gazette - printed, I assume, as a centenary item):

May Snowstorm That Took an Unkind Turn

The cold May storm, a proverbial part of the Vineyard spring, took an especially unkind turn about a century ago, on May 26th, the date being recalled because it coincided with moving day for an old house which found a haven on Main Street, Edgartown.

The house, then owned by Capt. Alexander Weeks, once stood at Ocean Heights, but yielding to that irresistible urge which seemed to overtake both houses and their owners in the olden days, it was decreed that it should become a town dweller. Propelled by forty yoke of oxen and a large force of men, the house made its slow and stately way over the sandy roads until it reached its present site, on the corner of Green Lane, where it is now the home Mrs. Herbert M. Boylston.

"The usual barrel of New England liquid refreshments as was the custom in those halcyon days," the Gazette recalled wistfully a quarter of a century ago, "flowed freely and when spirits rose to the point that when the new location was reached it was decided to hold a dance then and there. A fiddler was procured, fair ladies recruited, and the evening passed all too swiftly, the home-going guests finding to their surprise that a heavy snow had fallen while they were celebrating and that many of the weary and hungry oxen had dispersed, leading to a chilly chase on the night of the great snow, before the beasts were stabled their masters housed."

I love this story. I love it that this old home's first day of existence at its present location was celebrated with dancing and fiddle music, and that the fiddling that is now taking place here is creating a succinct and wonderful connection to the house's 200 year history.

More information about Captain Alexander Palmer Weeks, from my mother's file, includes the facts that he was born on May 18, 1804 and died on August 29 or 30, 1856, lost at sea in a hurricane, and that in 1835 Captain Weeks was skipper of the ship Leader whose home port was New Bedford. I have also learned - from the National Maritime Digital Library (link) - that Leader, a whaling bark, with Captain Weeks listed as its master, departed New Bedford for the Pacific Ocean in May of 1835, and returned in April of 1838, reporting 480 sperm, and 138 whale. Leader is listed as having been built in 1815 in Fairhaven, and that she broke up in 1851.

I've always assumed that the house was moved from the vicinity of what is now Weeks Lane.

Present-day fiddlers at the former Captain Alexander Weeks house.

Hurricane Irene, Edgartown, Massachusetts

2011-08-28T14:19:00.000-04:00

Hurricane Irene, Edgartown, Massachusetts from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

Okay, I think we are officially calling Irene a tropical storm at this point.

And yes, better safe than sorry, but I think Irene was way over-hyped. And what about all that Code Red business - I think I'm smart enough to find emergency info if needed; no need to pipe this stuff into my home.

Here's some footage from today, my first attempt at cutting and pasting and adding (royalty-free) music; enjoying this "snow day" in August, a rare Sunday at home. It's a bit long, and could be tweaked and nudged here and there, but I think I'm at least getting the hang of the tools and the process (and repeat after me, "Sara is not going to get into movie-making...").

Waiting for Irene

2011-08-28T00:30:00.004-04:00

My apologies - I have fallen behind in posting to Edgartown News. It's been an extremely busy summer.

Here's a little clip from today. Stay safe, and see you on the other side.

Hurricane Irene, -24 Hours from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.
South Beach, Edgartown; waiting for Irene. The little kids playing at wave's edge are part of the reason I don't go to this beach very often - people have no concept of the power of the ocean and it makes me crazy watching these kids on the verge of potentially being snatched away at any moment. We were not allowed here as children - islanders just didn't come here - and now, on any given summer's day, there are upwards of 20,000 people on this beach.

Ironically, I am a surfer - but not at this beach; too many rip tides and too much undertow. I expect the surf up-island will be excellent in the aftermath of Irene. I'll give it a few days to calm down, though (not like my younger years - oh, the things I'm glad my mother never knew).

But I'm very excited - this is my first attempt at recording and importing and syncing my own audio, something I've been wanting to learn how to do for a while, now made possible with my new, and most awesome, H4N Zoom - fantastic! For starters, the G12 is a great little video camera, but the in-camera audio from this clip is totally wind-blown. What a joy to have such a clean audio track. The roaring sound in this video is literally the surge of the ocean. The H4N will be great for music videos, for syncing with the 5D.

While working on this little project (little? ha - try hours! downloading and learning new software - what is wrong with me that I always have to be doing things I know absolutely nothing about?), I was remembering being in this same room as a thirteen year-old - can you believe, almost fifty years ago - and making primitive two-track recordings with two tape recorders - you know, recording onto one, then playing it while recording onto the second one; playing guitar and singing harmony with myself. Same room, many years later, with awesome equipment. My interests haven't changed that much over the years, I guess. And yes, I'm a gadget freak.

Anyway, it's midnight, and there's not much going on outside as far as I can see and hear. Stay tuned.

Wintucket Waterworks, from the Archives

2011-07-24T19:03:00.006-04:00

So, the day I sent out the Wintucket Station post, I received this message from Janice Belisle: "Sara, I cannot believe this 'god-wink'.....coincidence, etc. I was just emptying out a huge box this AM....AND I came across old negatives of Gene Belisle's of the Wintucket pumping station ! ! ! I have not even thought of it in years. AND here is your blog about it."

I now have the negatives (once upon a time, Gene had a darkroom in his Silva Lane home and was very involved with photography), and since I recently got my film scanner up and running, was able to run off a few of these old photos.Thank you, Janice (and Gene).

This photo explains the round brick foundation in my photo from last week - I only vaguely remembered what was on top of it (file photo, Gene Belisle)

The pump house, exactly as I remember it (file photo, Gene Belisle).

The actual waterworks. Magnificent (file photo, Gene Belisle).

Wintucket Station

2011-07-20T09:17:00.012-04:00

What began as a drive to the water department's Meshacket Road office to pay my water bill ended up as a wistful and nostalgic trip out to the old Wintucket water works, the location of the small cabin in which my family lived for several summers during the late 1970s and early 1980s when Paul managed what was then the Edgartown Water Company.

I had not been down the road to the old pumping station for many, many years. Knowing that the cabin that had been our summer home had been bulldozed down several years back, I just couldn't face the place, preferring to relegate it to happy memories.

But now that the water department's office is out at Wintucket - which I discovered upon my arrival at the Meshacket Road office - and with my water bill overdue, there was no avoiding a face-to-face encounter with the past.

After paying my bill in the big new office, I took a right at the end of the road, parked the car, and wandered around the place.

Standing in our former backyard and seeing the old brick pump house - smelling the sweet fern and hearing the summer sounds - was straight out of a dream. The building was the same unique and distinguishable shape, but of course most everything else was very different. The tall forest that had surrounded the building was gone; the garage; our little house - all gone. But the memories- who can bulldoze these down - of walking the trails and picking high-bush blueberries; searching for arrowheads; the tire swing that hung from a high oak; swimming and boating off of the old dike; and one of my all-time favorite memories as a mother, from our second summer in the cabin when our oldest child would have been around age four: I was tucking Adam into bed on our first night back when the whippoorwill outside the cabin window struck up its call, "Whippoorwill, whippoorwill," when Adam, in a moment of recognition, perked up and said, "There's my old friend, the whippoorwill."

I peeked in the window, looking for - what? Something familiar, something left behind? But all I saw was a bunch of junk and my own ghost-like reflection.

The only original outbuilding that remains.

Adam, at the old dike that separates the fresh water on the right from the brackish, Wintucket Cove water on the left, circa 1980. This body of water was an integral part of the functioning of the old pumping station that was once the sole source of Edgartown's Water.

A Perfect Fourth

2011-07-05T15:27:00.011-04:00

This year's Independence Day was as fine as any I can remember; maybe even better. Yes, the day was magic - an old fashioned Edgartown Fourth of July, right out of a Norman Rockwell painting, beginning with the weather, that despite advance doom and gloom reports, turned out to be sunny (remember? weather reports don't apply to Edgartown).

After hanging the decorations (and yes, I managed to hang my vertical flag backwards again), mowing the lawn, and making sure all was in order for the evening, I biked with friends out to the beach - the heat of the day making the water all the more refreshing - where I was hard pressed to drag myself out of the briny deep.

I've begun what I hope will become a yearly tradition: a barbecue on the front lawn along with a live Irish traditional music session on the porch (videos at the end). This brings to full circle a story that was referred to often in my childhood. According to a Vineyard Gazette piece that appeared in a May 1948 issue, my Main Street house was moved from Ocean Heights in 1848, being rolled into town on logs by oxen (picture the house being pulled forward a few feet, with the men then removing the rear-most log and placing it the front row - over and over for three miles down a dirt road). As the story is told, that particular May day culminated with a rare spring snow storm (records of which I've never been able to find), and as was the custom of the day, with a pot-luck feast, replete with fiddlers.

Since I haven't figured out how to barbecue, play my fiddle, and photograph simultaneously, a couple of things suffered - okay, everyone told me that burned hot-dogs taste better, but I think they were just being polite - also, I couldn't wander and take the copious numbers of photographs I usually take during this bonanza of Edgartown faces. I did manage to get a few shots that I like (the complete set: link).

117 Main Street.

Dylan Morgan, in step with his grandfather Colonel Fred B. Morgan.

The Colonial Navy Band from Fall River

Ready for the shower of sweets.

The pipers regaled us going into town, as well as on the way back out - a double treat.

Dylan Morgan

Skip Tomassian

Mike Smith (left).

Sheriff Michael McCormack

Edgartown's finest - Smith, Rossi, Gazaille, and Searle.

Porch musicians, Cormac and Bob.

David

Levi, Cormac, and Bob.

Levi and Cormac

David, Levi, Cormac, and Bob.

Susie and David

Fourth of July Porch Session from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.
Footage from our inaugural Alison Boylston Piazza House/Midnight Mermaid porch session, July 4, 2011. Great tunes, great friends, great craic!

Fourth of July Porch Session 2 from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.
The Bucks of Oranmore with Levi, Cormac, Bob, Susie, and David.

This was a great day - from swimming at Bend in the Road, to the parade, the BBQ, and great music - all topped off with spectacular fireworks over Edgartown Harbor.

On the Right, Going Out

2011-07-04T07:16:00.019-04:00

117 Main Street, the Alison Boylston Piazza House, a/k/a the Midnight Mermaid.

My neighbor Skip is an American flag etiquette expert, and I can always count on him to straighten me out if my flags are not hanging properly. When I hung my flag from the fascia board of the porch a couple of years ago, I knew that the American flag must be depicted in a particular way in a picture or a decal - with the field of stars on the left - but I somehow couldn't figure it out as it pertained to hanging it perpendicularly, and I did manage to hang it backwards, which Skip helpfully pointed out to me.

I had been wanting to get a proper flag, with a pole, for some time - to replace the one that was stolen a few summers ago - which I did recently. As I unfurled it and placed it into the bracket on the front of my porch I thought, well, at least I can't hang it backwards this time.

A couple of days went by before Skip stopped by my porch to tell me, "Nice flag, but it should be on the right hand side of the doorway as you go out." Darn - my new flag was on the right, going in.

No matter - I still had the new bracket in its package, so I climbed back up and installed it on the correct side.

When I was a camper at Camp Wintucket summer day camp - out on Wintucket Cove, and run by Joe and Betty Robichau - we were taught how to care for the flag, raising it up every morning and lowering it every evening - never, ever, allowing the flag to touch the ground, of course - as well as the proper folding: triangle over triangle, into a neat package, to be stored until the next day's raising. I do remember that being selected to participate in this rite was considered an honor and a privilege.

Because I don't have a light for my flag, I do have to set my flag out every morning and bring it in every night, which I thought might be a chore, both to remember to do and to do, but it turns out to be an activity I actually enjoy. First of all, it is now part of my daily routine; bookends on my day. I have also discovered that there's something transformational about taking care of the flag every day. Of course, the flag doesn't really need me to care for it, its being an inanimate object, but on a deeper level, the act of tending to the flag twice a day fosters a caring and respect - in me - that spills over into many other areas, including: love and respect of country, others, and self.

Have a happy and safe Fourth of July. See you at the parade, and if you see me with my camera, smile.

Camp Wintucket, 1948. My brother, John, is third from left (with his hand on the little sailboat). I wonder if that's Mary Waller, the only girl, with pig-tails.

The Edwina B.

2011-06-29T10:39:00.003-04:00

I've had my eye on this sweet little catboat docked off the rear of Floyd Norton's boathouse for the past couple of weeks. I ran into Floyd at Depot Market yesterday and was glad to have a chance to inquire about it. According to Floyd, this boat was built by our own Manuel Swartz Roberts in his shop - now Old Sculpin Gallery - that happens to be diagonally across the street from where she is now berthed. Floyd says, "She's right where she belongs, back home." Floyd also told me that the boat was donated to the MV Preservation Trust (full Vineyard Gazette story: link). He also shared boyhood memories of climbing down into the boats as Manuel was building them and gathering up the wood shavings. "He'd give me a pot of copper paint and a brush - I thought I was really something."

Old Sculpin Gallery, the former home of Manuel Swartz Roberts' boat-building shop. The wide wood floor of the gallery still has the worn spots - in the shape of a boat - that reveal where Manuel's main work area was.

The Morning Egg

2011-06-27T07:17:00.003-04:00

Remember a few years back (who can keep track, the verdict changes so often) when the authorities decided that eggs were bad for us? Here were my dear mother's thoughts on the matter, written for her friend David Hewlett, then-organist at the Federated Church whose weekly lunchtime concerts she attended regularly; penned sometime during the 1980s, I believe.

For David by Alison Boylston Piazza

Take away my nicotine,

Sugar, butter, and caffeine,

Salt, without a single doubt,

Is something I can do without,

And living without alcohol

Doesn't bother me at all,

But please, on bended knee I beg,

Don't take away my morning egg!

Moons and Junes and Ferris Wheels

2011-06-22T07:28:00.023-04:00

Do you smell the honeysuckle? My yard is presently filled with its fragrance - a full, pungent aroma that triggers memories of every Edgartown summer of my life, especially those carefree childhood Junes when the world was ours and we had all the time in the world; the time and the patience to gingerly pull the little round nubbin off the end of the blossom and slowly pull the long stamen through the shaft until the tiny bead of nectar appeared; a droplet of delicate sweetness.

No, the New Baby's Name is Not Button Tub

2011-06-21T10:08:00.000-04:00

In response to a funny phone call I received yesterday afternoon - a friend who knew that the birth of my third grandchild was imminent reported her fleeting thought that I was announcing the arrival when she saw the title of yesterday's post - I am proud to announce that Rebekah and Adam's daughter was born last Wednesday, June 15; 3:03pm; 7#14oz. Her name is Shadow, and she has been pronounced perfect by the authorities. Shadow joins big brother, River. I have yet to meet the lass, but I am told she is beautiful.

(if anyone is keeping track, that's three babies in less than two years - does it get any better than this?)

Welcome, Shadow!

Welcome, Button Tub

2011-06-19T21:35:00.013-04:00

On Sunday, as promised, the Edgartown Fireman's Association hosted an ice-cream social in honor of the Button tub hand-pumper's installation into its newly built, climate-controlled room at the Edgartown Fire Museum. Dick Kelly emphasized that Sunday's party was what's called a "soft opening;" with the main event - a gala opening of the museum - scheduled for September. It was a fine day for socializing and ice-cream, getting a glimpse of the many good things to come, and for supporting a great project.

The walls of the Edgartown Fire Museum feature big, beautiful posters that depict some of the history of the EFD. Above is a shot of the old station on Church Street (I had practically forgotten all about that place), the site of today's visitors' center.

This is Edgartown's famous antique hand-pumper, in its new, climate-controlled room. The write-up with the display reads:Button Tub Hand PumperThis was the third fire apparatus used on Martha's Vineyard. It was made in 1855 by L. Button & Co. of Waterford, NY. Bought by the town of Edgartown for $1,000, it was actively used for over 75 years. The engine drew its water from cisterns scattered around town, and the water pressure needed was produced through manual pumping. It could throw one stream 150 feet; two streams, 125 feet; and three streams, 100 feet high. At full capacity, the engine could pump more than ten barrels per minute. In theory, this would have meant the work of 42 men, although the size of the team was usually closer to 30.The tub was restored by the Edgartown Firemen's Association in 1984.

Dick Kelly and Peter Look

Jesse Maciel with daughter Madison.

Jesse, Madison, and Emily.

Phyllis Brown; Jesse, Madison, and Emily; Peter Look - generations one, three, and four.

Three of the masterminds behind the project: Andrew Kelly, with Peggy and Steve Zablotny, whose Vineyard Haven design firm, Z Studio, is responsible for the layout and design of the museum.

Maisie Sherman

EMT Kate Conde

Just a few of an estimated 700 fire department patches that have been collected by various members and friends of EFD. The above, specifically, are patches that Dick Kelly has collected from his many trips to Canada. Dick travels with a supply of EFD patches that he trades with other departments.

The 1927 Mack is a show stopper, everywhere she goes.

Peggy Zablotny enjoys the ride.

Susan Kelly, Steve Zablotny, Dick Kelly, and Khalid Dore.When Dick Kelly joined the department in 1956, Hose Co. No. 1 was still in service; Dick would spend his first four years as a fireman on this truck.

Khalid Dore (Dick Kelly, b.g.)

Riding on Hose Co. No. 1 from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.
Haven't you always wanted to ride on a fire truck?
I had an opportunity to ride on Edgartown Fire Department's 1927 Mack today. It was quite a thrill, especially with the bell ringing and the siren blaring.

Surf Report

2011-06-18T11:26:00.008-04:00

Surf Report from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

Video shot at South Beach, "right fork."

The weatherman called for a rainy weekend, but, as I tell my off-island friends, "Never believe the weather forecast for the island - it's always wrong." Indeed, we seem to be in an alternate universe, weather-wise (as well as in many other ways), as today there's not a cloud in the sky (hmmm...perhaps the bride I will be photographing later today remembered to put her rosary beads out on the porch last night - I've seen this old trick work many times). There's a bit of fog out at the beach, but that will soon burn off, as usual.

It seems that the recent low-pressure activity has kicked up a bit of a swell, albeit - by this morning, anyway - quite wind-blown.

I think there may be some activity up-island, at least that's what I'm hoping for for tomorrow afternoon - the first opportunity I'll have to get into some waves.

PS - so much for the so-called wind-filter on the G12.

A Couple of Locals

2011-06-13T18:54:00.000-04:00

Dave Corcoran and Willie Pate

Main Street, Monday Morning

2011-06-13T17:29:00.003-04:00

1936 Chevy

Come One, Come All

2011-06-13T15:34:00.006-04:00

Engine 1

On Sunday June 19, the Edgartown Firemen's Association will be hosting an ice cream social in honor of the 1855 hand-pumper's official welcome into its newly-built space at the Edgartown Fire Museum.

The public is invited to attend this event, which is scheduled to run from 1pm to 3pm at the museum, behind the fire station on Robinson Road.

(I had a sneak-peak at one of the exhibits in the museum today - this place is going to be amazing.)

See you there.

First-Swim Update

2011-06-12T08:32:00.001-04:00

My friend Liz H., who is too modest to boast of it here, informs me that her first swim was on May 27. That gives me a date to beat for next year. Yes, I'm actually a very competitive person, didn't you know? I'm so competitive, I can't stand traffic being ahead of me on the highway, and I am constantly setting new goals for and competing with myself, even. There's a well known teaching story about the day that the (mythical) town leaders, fearing that competition was causing strife among its residents, decided to banish all competition. As a result, nothing was ever again accomplished in that town; not a building built, or a business begun, or a game played among the children. The lesson of the story, of course, is that competition is part of what motivates us to succeed and even at times surpass ourselves.

Bravo, Liz - and see you at the Bend next May 26.

In the Swim

2011-06-10T07:24:00.002-04:00

It's that time of year again - can you believe it? Yesterday, June 9, I took my third swim of the season. I began on June 7, the earliest that I can remember in some years, inspired by this week's heat-wave and having worked up a good sweat over at my Plantingfield Way house. Mind you, it's not my usual 1/8-1/4 mile; more like a very fast 50' - and then out, as the water is chilly. According to the MV Coastal Observatory, the near-bottom water temp (off of South Beach) is 59.1 degrees. It's probably a bit warmer at Bend in the Road, but not by much - let me tell you, once I hit that water (no slow-entry for this girl, either; I'm the run-and-dive type), I am wide awake. But then again, if I wanted warm water I'd either move to Florida or stay home and take a bath.

My Uncle Orin

2011-06-02T07:01:00.015-04:00

Orin Norton, Edgartown's last blacksmith, source unknown, probably taken between 1950-60.(Thank you, ALM, for sending it)

When I was a little girl knocking around my Uncle Orin's farm - way up the hill, at the end of what is now called Norton Orchard Road - where my grandmother, mother, brother, and I were often invited to pick corn and other vegetables that were in abundance; or wandering around down on Dock street, in and out of his blacksmith shop (where he once admonished me for coming into his shrapnel-covered floors barefoot but gave me a dime for penny candy anyway), I had no idea that he was a living treasure, Edgartown's last blacksmith who would be written up in National Geographic, and reminisced over so fondly; our own living legend, bent over his forge, crafting scallop drags, quahog rakes, anchors, ploughshares - every piece of metal that we needed for our farming and fishing lives.

How could we, as kids, have known these things? If we had, we'd have paid much closer attention.

Memorial Day in Edgartown

2011-05-31T10:24:00.006-04:00

Rushing out of a local shop yesterday, I blurted, "Happy Memorial Day." Before the last word was out of my mouth I realized that the word happy does not belong in that sentence. But what is the appropriate greeting on this day, a day that has been set aside, officially since 1873, as a day to remember our war dead?

The only appropriate greeting, I suppose, would be no greeting.

When I was a little girl my mother passed down the custom of visiting the cemetery on Memorial Day, a custom I did not so strongly instill in my own children, I'm sorry to have to admit; and there was the annual march down to the town wharf where we school kids tossed our lilacs into the harbor (a tradition that continues today), the meaning of which we would not understand until many years later.

I know there was a parade and a picnic in Vineyard Haven yesterday, but we don't really have a national, collective observance of this holiday, to the point that Memorial Day has become just another shopping and party day and summer's kick-off weekend. In my case, it was a work day.

I like the way Israel celebrates its Memorial Day - Yom Hazikaron. There is a minute-long siren blast that is heard all over the country. At the sound of the siren, everyone and everything comes to a standstill - even traffic stops in the middle of the highways, and everyone stands in silence, collectively remembering and showing respect to all of Israel's fallen soldiers.

I couldn't find my flag, I failed to get it together to put a pot of geraniums (the tradition in my family) onto the family graves, nor did I make it to Vineyard Haven for the parade. I offer these photos as my moment of silence.

Thank you.

The most beautiful grave stone in the cemetery.This huge chunk of rose quartz marks the graves of my grandparents, Herbert Melville Boylston and Mabel Shurtleff Boylston, and my mother, Alison Williams Boylston Piazza. My grandmother had this pink boulder shipped down from a quarry in New Hampshire when my grandfather died in 1939.

Herring Creek Farm

2011-05-27T17:29:00.000-04:00

Chevy

2011-05-22T07:06:00.002-04:00

South Summer Street.

Gray Again

2011-05-21T19:43:00.002-04:00

Eddie Smith's fishing vessel, Tenacious.

Captain Rob Coad.

Welcome to ice cream season.

Two of Edgartown's Finest

2011-05-21T13:39:00.021-04:00

Ralph Condlin and Stephanie Immelt. I supposed that Stephanie is new on the job, but learned that she has worked for EPD for eleven years - nights, which explains why she was brand new to my eyes.

To the Shad, by Steve Ewing

2011-05-21T12:20:00.002-04:00

"When the shad bush blooms, the herring are running." That's what the old-time islanders say. [file photo, Tiasquam Valley, May 15, 2009]

This is a bit late, due to my not having noticed the attachment in Steve's e-mail a couple of weeks ago. The shad blooms have now passed; the white that now dots the landscape is beach plum.

To the Shad

Each spring
I wait
So patiently
Until
One day
So gracefully
The shad
Displays
It’s
Early bloom
After herring
Flagged
By fluttering
Osprey
Leave silver scales
On low tide rocks
Near fresh pond runs
Sweet shad
O’re hangs
These pools
Discrete harbinger
Faithful
Hardy strong
And true
A feathery
Red brown leaf
Gently flushing
Small
White flowered
Blooms

Dedicated to Scott Ewing
April 25, 1960- February 15, 1985

Steve Ewing

The Golden Hour

2011-05-21T07:09:00.018-04:00

The Converys - Anna, Rick, and Amonda.

My favorite time of day for walking is in the evening, an hour or two before sunset; between and 6-8pm this time of year. At the end of a sunny day, as was the case yesterday, the light is laced with gold, the very best time for photography, and last evening the air was perfect - not too hot, not too cold. The streets are moderately quiet right now - half way between "ghost town" and "over-run with people but there's still nobody there" - so I did come across a few locals, out enjoying the evening air after a day's work and enjoying one last bit of ownership of our town before the onslaught.

It's always a pleasure meeting and chatting with Dick Fligor.

Karen Berwick and friends, out for dinner.

Music to My Ears

2011-05-19T14:55:00.008-04:00

Twelve o'clock and all is well.

12 Noon, Edgartown. from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

Get 'em Before They're Gone...

2011-05-19T08:38:00.041-04:00

The Achelis barn, corner of Cooke and School Streets.

While searching for some of Edgartown's older architectural gems and curiosities to photograph this week, I came to the sad realization that there's not much left in town that hasn't been gentrified, upgraded, or just plain torn down (I'm thinking especially of the old barn/garage on Cooke Street that was bulldozed down a few years ago because - oops, the new owners of the property didn't realize that one needs a permit to tear down old buildings. No matter. I'm sure the $10K fine was a drop in the bucket to these folks; the loss of a piece of our town's history on the other hand: immeasurable.).

I've always loved this little building - one reason should be obvious. This little garage sits in the back yard of a downtown Main Street house and is accessed from Pent Lane.

#9 Green Avenue. When I was little girl this was Frank Duart's paint shop, where I spent many a happy hour visiting with Mr. Duart who graciously put up with my (probable) non-stop chatter and questions and who occasionally let me ride on the tail-gait of his blue Chevy Apache, dragging my bare toes in the sand of the dirt road when he drove out to Slough Cove to visit his brother Tony. This little building has been an upholstery shop, a bicycle storage unit, and is currently owned by Jim Joyce. Some of the neighbors think it's an eye-sore; others, myself included, love the place.

Detail of #9 Green Avenue.

Cottage, Collins' Beach.

Katama Road. I have no idea what this is, and I've never seen anyone in it or near it. It appears to be an old sheep pen.

Fashion Hints for May

2011-05-15T21:43:00.006-04:00

You may have noticed in these pages the occasional appearance of the writings of my dear late mother. I'm in the process of illustrating her poetry - "doggerel," she called it - a collection of a couple of dozen poems that range from sardonic to sentimental which she typed out on onion skin on her trusty black Royal and bound into a blue three-ring folder. I keep this folder in my travel bag so it is always with me in case inspiration strikes (and I noticed today that the pages are becoming worn from my perusing). This time, my inspiration was nudged by the purple lilac that has begun to bloom all over town. Half the fun was walking the streets after supper looking for the perfect lilac bush to photograph; the other half was the smell.
(the collection - so far - is here)

Fashion Hints for May    by Alison Boylston Piazza

Old houses should be dressed in grey,

Pearl-sheened by years of sun and rain,

With frosty white to brighten doors

And outline every window pane.

And then to add a subtle note

Of color and of fragrance rare,

A purple lilac standing tall

Among green leaves should blossom there. 

The Vincent House, Bedecked

2011-05-15T09:11:00.002-04:00

The late afternoon light shining on the Vincent House enticed me to veer off of my straight path home the other evening - this light offering a break from the persistent gray of recent days - and my meanderings placed me smack in the middle of the fully-blooming fruit tree grove that surrounds Edgartown's oldest house. My stopover at this fairy-tale scene was made more precious by the knowledge that these blossoms - surely at their peak on this evening - will be fading fast. Stay tuned for confetti.

Edgartown's Fire Museum, In Progress

2011-05-09T07:10:00.014-04:00

There are big doings underway in the building tucked behind our fire station on Robinson Road. I had a tour recently of the Edgartown Fire Museum, which I found both fascinating and exciting - the museum has the potential of becoming a vibrant center of learning and activity for our town - and I even learned a few things about the history of Edgartown's 175 year-old fire department.

The museum, at this time very much a work in progress, was begun in 1997, initially for the purpose of housing the department's two retired trucks. Longtime Edgartown fireman Dick Kelly, who with his son Andy was my tour guide says, "When I retired from the A&P, I saw all the stuff around the station, and I thought, 'why not put this stuff out?'" and thus was born the idea for the expanded museum.

This past year, a large climate-controlled room was added to the original garage, built for the main purpose of housing the celebrated and much-loved 155 year-old "button tub" pumper which will be on loan from the former Dukes County Historical Society. The walls here will eventually be filled with photographs, as well as fire department and town history. The room will also feature a childrens' interactive, hands-on exhibit.

The finishing touch for the museum will be a large picnic area with tables and a little patio with benches dedicated to late department stalwarts Bob Bassett and Albert K. Sylvia.

The target date for the official opening of the museum is September 2011, "If we get the money we need, and I think we will," says Dick.

And speaking of money, this 501(c)(3) non-profit project is supported entirely by donations. If you are so inclined, the address to which you may send a donation is:

Edgartown Firemen's Association (with a note in the memo directing the funds to the museum)
PO Box 737
Edgartown, MA 02539

One of my tour guides, Richard Kelly, flanked by Hose Co. No. 1 (left), and Engine 1.

Hose Co. No. 1 is a 1927 Mack that went into service in Edgartown in 1928 and was retired in 1952. It's currently undergoing a major overhaul on the engine and the brakes, as well as the replacement of a lot of old parts - difficult to find, and expensive, reportedly. The hope is that the work will be completed in time for the Fourth of July parade.

Engine 1. This 1952 Mack was retired from duty in 1985. A beauty.

A small sampling of fire department paraphernalia and history that will be on display in the museum. This bucket dates back to the days - pre-fire department - when Edgartown residents were required by law to hang a bucket next to their front doors in case of fire (surely, you've heard of a bucket brigade).

An old hose nozzle.

This room was built with the "button tub" in mind, will be climate controlled, and features a Vermont oak floor. Says Dick, "We wanted to do this right, or not at all." The room will also be home to photos, newspaper articles, fire department history, town history, a hands-on children's learning center, and a sales area for tee-shirts, the sales of which support the annual Fourth of July fireworks display.

The Kellys - father and son - Dick and Andy.

This bell that sits in front of the station on Pease's Point Way will eventually be brought around back to the museum.

Edgartown Fire Department's beloved "button tub" pumper, a star of the Fourth of July parade. (file photos, July 2010)

Kara Shemeth in the fore.

A mighty spray fills Main Street, generated by the hands of the button pumper team. This demonstration of strength, timing, precision, and team-work is always received with loud cheers of approval and applause from the crowd.

Random

2011-05-03T17:50:00.006-04:00

A short walk on Monday yielded these results:

South Water Street. The pagoda tree- Edgartown's Giant Pagoda - on the right, was brought to Edgartown from China in 1812 as a seedling by a Captain Thomas Milton. This tree enjoys a degree of fame; one of its offspring graces the Edgartown Public Library's front lawn on North Water Street.

A sure sign of spring are these mooring markers, ready and waiting to be set out into the harbor.

A rare sight: looking at the sky through the ceiling of Edgartown's Memorial Wharf, the top-side of which is under re-construction.
The corner of Cooke and School Streets; the Achelis house.

Monday Morning Ferry Ride

2011-05-02T17:23:00.005-04:00

There was quite the contingent of Edgartonians in the lunch room of the M/V Island Home this morning. It was a great ride - a fabulous May morning - and a great conversation, mostly covering Edgartown's olden days.Take a good look, as you may not see this many local Edgartown characters in one place again - including in Edgartown - until September.

Tom Teller, Billy Wray, and Ron Carroll.

The Town Clock Bell is Back

2011-04-29T17:18:00.014-04:00

What luck. Good luck, that is. It just so happened that the town clock bell was re-installed on a day that I was in town; Friday morning, April 29, 2011, to be precise. It was fantastic to witness, too. The entire event, beginning with the perfect almost-May morning (following a few days of really nasty weather), to seeing some of the usual local suspects - on hand to photograph, ogle, admire, support, and report on this somewhat historic occurrence - to the precision with which the team raised the bell into the tower, was quite memorable. I even found the courage to climb up to the bell tower, something I had not done since I was a kid.

Related Edgartown News post, here

More photos, here.

Greg Blaine, the bell's restoration man.

The crane approaches.

Christian Thornton and daughter.

Greg has unwrapped the bell, revealing shiny, newly-polished brass.

John Anderson was in charge of restoring the bell's large rope-pulley wheel.

A small crowd gathers.

The bell rope's newly restored rope-pulley wheel.

Greg and Steve Ewing talk shop.

Readying the crane.

Father Nagle's porch offered a fine vantage point.

The bell will be carried aloft within this box and carefully inserted into the belfry.

Doris Ward

Up, up, and away.

Almost home...

...closer...

Ah...

Dicky Brown

Gears

Home again.

Yours Truly, by Greg Blaine.

Photo by Greg Blaine.

Greg Blaine couldn't be more pleased with the results of this project, or prouder to have been a part of it. Well done, Greg. I'm sure Greg's dad, the late Jim Blaine, who passed down his metal-working skills to Greg, is smiling down on him.

The view down Main Street from the bell tower, to the court house, town hall, and beyond to the harbor.

Done.

Re-installing Edgartown's Town Clock Bell from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

A Pool of Daffodils

2011-04-14T08:34:00.003-04:00

A poem by Alison Boylston Piazza.

Every winter, year after year,

We wait for signs of spring to appear,

As we struggle through wind and snow and frost.

But then, when it seems all hope is lost,

A fountain of forsythia spills

Into a pool of daffodils.

Sweetened Water Tree

2011-04-12T12:12:00.000-04:00

Last Day of March

2011-04-01T10:22:00.005-04:00

It doesn't get much grayer around here than it's been this week, does it? Oh well, brighter days are coming.

I'm always glad to see Ralph Gross - this time, posed, appropriately, at Lenny's Drug Store corner. Ralph was pretty much the only other life form I encountered on my walk down-street on Thursday (the next time you see Ralph, be sure to ask him about his poetry - it's quite good).

A bit of welcome color at Fishermens' Pier.

Last day of scallop season [link] for 2010-2011.

Remember the Pent Lane house that was torn down [link] back in November? Here's its replacement.

First Day of Spring

2011-03-21T14:36:00.012-04:00

Well, I didn't quite find the sea of purple and white I had anticipated finding today in my Main Street yard - maybe crocuses are cyclical, or maybe they bloomed last week while I was gone, or maybe something ate them; I'm seeing nibbles here - nonetheless, I was rather delighted to have blown into town on a first-day-of-spring snow-storm.

If you look closely, you'll see a few flakes on the bloom in the photo. It's not that unusual for it to snow at this time of year around here, actually. Today - March 21 - is the same date that I buried my mother, nineteen years ago, and I remember very distinctly that it snowed on that day, too.

Spring Fever                     By Alison Boylston Piazza

Crocuses are blooming, 

Spring is in the air,

So why am I still wearing 

My winter underwear?

In mittens, scarf and jacket,

Woolen cap and socks,

What a way to celebrate

The vernal equinox!

It's (almost) Crocus Time Again

2011-03-09T08:59:00.005-05:00

No pictures this time, though I sure wish I had thought to get a shot of Barry Nevin and Tommy Bassett, whom I met at the post office on Monday afternoon (the three of us were partners in crime back in junior high - don't ask), as well as Doris Ward, Sally Snipes, and Abby Leighton down at the thrift shop on Tuesday.

For some reason, except for a few shots of East Chop Light, which caught my fancy on Monday afternoon, and a little photo/video session with the new grand-babe (now nearly five weeks old) on Tuesday, the camera mostly stayed right in my bag.

But it was a great couple of days in town this week - highlighted by my first baby-sitting session with the new wee-one, which included a walk around town, with Ethan snuggled into the Moby-wrap, just as I used to carry his daddy and uncle and aunt in the carrier of those days, an orange corduroy Snugli; seems like five minutes ago, and a fun "MTV" movie-making session: Sing-along with Grammie, starring Ethan and grammie.

I was reminded by my friend James, who walks past my house often and knows the story of my mother's crocii, when he mentioned last week that he had seen them starting to poke their heads up, that it was time to get out there and clean up the winter debris from the front lawn, which I managed to get done yesterday in my final moments before heading back "off". There's something wonderfully satisfying about that first raking session of the season; getting the large muscle group working after so many months' dormancy, plus seeing and smelling the dirt again, and seeing all those tender, pale green shoots starting to break through. Wonderful. And considering the nature of this chore - providing my mother's sea of purple and white crocii (that started with maybe a dozen bulbs she through intp the ground in the front yard, circa 1990) a clear, clean area in which to burst forth in all their glory, which they do every year the exact week of the anniversary of her death - it's one I hardly mind. In fact, it's a joy.

EPD

2011-02-28T12:28:00.006-05:00

This is probably old news to everyone else, but the slip of blue paper that fell out of my sewer bill today informs me that our police department has a new web site. The very cool thing about this site is the live-streaming police scanner, which means that even in Brookline (which is where I am writing today's entry), I can keep track of my little home town (lots of dead air this time of year). So, think of it, if I wanted to, I could listen to my BPD scanner in one ear, and EPD in the other (nope - my dual existence is already too confusing, most days).

EPD web site, here.

File photo: Fourth of July, 2008.

Edgartown's Newest Resident

2011-02-06T10:53:00.007-05:00

Ethan Silas Thibodeau was born on February 3 at our hospital to Jonathan and Kara Thibodeau. Ethan weighed 8 pounds, 14 ounces at birth and measured 23 inches.

Ethan is at home with his parents, on land that was farmed by Charles and Mary Shurtleff, his great-great-great-grandparents.

Ethan's maternal grandparents are Cathy and Paul Kasprak of Fryeburg, Maine, formerly of Vineyard Haven; his paternal grandparents are Yours Truly and the late Paul Thibodeau. Ethan's immediate family includes Uncles Aaron Kasprak and Adam Thibodeau, Aunts Maria Thibodeau and Rebekah Blu, and a 16-month old cousin, River.

Welcome, Ethan. We love you.

The Silence is Deafening

2011-01-29T15:26:00.034-05:00

Edgartown's Beautiful Old Church of Whaling Days, f/k/a the Edgartown United Methodist Church.

I am loving being in town this week, a departure from my usual routine (and sentiments), with this time of year, with the exception of Mondays and Tuesdays, more typically being spent in the city. But with the birth of a grandchild imminent, I decided to hold over until the baby makes his or her appearance (ha - the baby knows I am waiting. I might have to get on the ferry and pretend to leave).

I haven't always been able to say that I like January in Edgartown, but it has been very pleasant this time. For one thing, it means I get to sleep in the same bed for a number of nights in a row which is always a plus, as well as being able to focus on projects without being interrupted. It's not that I don't like the commute, it's just that sometimes I get a good head of steam going, on whatever it is I happen to be working on, and my travels - changing locations mid-stream, or steam - can be very disruptive, so I have come to appreciate an opportunity to to stay put for an extended period - in either location.

Knowing there will be a baby at the end of this stint helps - a lot - plus, I am very cozy and happy in my lair overlooking Main Street.

There's one thing I've been missing, however, and that is the sound of the bell in the town clock. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed its absence without reading in the local papers that the bell has been removed from the tower and shipped off (to allow for repair of both the bell and its housing - full story here, and here), as I'm often the one who calls Tommy Bassett (the clock keeper; a job that his father, Bob Bassett, and his grandfather William Silva both held; Tom's son Jake also works on the clock, which totals four generations of Bassett/Silvas taking care of our clock) when the clock isn't keeping the correct time or if the bell is malfunctioning.

Yes, it is eerily quiet around here, and I'm not one who craves the quiet, which is one of the reasons I choose to live smack in the middle of Coolidge Corner, with the sounds of the C-line train, and sirens, and traffic, and people, right outside my window all day and half the night. It's also the reason I like living on Main Street, for the sense I have of being surrounded by movement and sounds and life.

Bells in a town say, "people live here." In thinking about this posting, I remembered - and was even able to find - this bit from my Edgartown Column, written in December of 2001: "Sunday was a perfect day for working on outdoor projects. My chores included varnishing my new kitchen door and reworking an old brick walkway, and as I worked in my sunny side yard I savored the sounds of what I call, 'the music of life' - the whisper of the wind through the trees, an occasional seagull's cry, the distant sound of church bells, each church taking its turn..." I was living four blocks away on Plantingfield Way when I wrote this, and in those days, not only was the town clock sounding the hour, but St. Elizabeth's, St. Andrews, and the Federated churches also had carillons that played on the hour, and they all seemed to be calling and answering each other, which now makes me think of this English nursery rhyme:

Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of St. Clement's.

You owe me five farthings,
Say the bells of St. Martin's.

When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey.

When I grow rich,
Say the bells of Shoreditch.

When will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.

I do not know,
Says the great bell of Bow.

Chris Scott, the director of the MV Preservation Trust, which owns the church building (the town owns the clock), in a conversation on Main Street yesterday, told me that the bell is scheduled to be re-installed by Memorial Day. He also has assured me that the repairs will not change the sound of the bell (and I hope he's right because after hearing it for the better part of sixty years, I certainly have its frequency - the exact note and timbre - etched deeply into my brain; a different note just would not be Edgartown, I'm afraid)

The view from my kitchen window, with the town clock just two blocks away. This time of year I can see what time it is from my window (by ducking and weaving a little). Growing up in this house, the sound of the town clock was a part of our daily lives

While I was down town this morning taking the above photos, Tom Teller stopped his red truck and one of the things he said to me was, "This must be a favorite subject of yours. I've been looking at your photos, and you've got a lot of pictures of this church." He's right. Not only is Edgartown's Beautiful Old Church of Whaling Days (its real name) beautiful, but it's big, and seems to be catching the light differently every time I walk by, which is often.This was also my dear Grandmother's church, where she took me when I was very small, where I first heard about the God who loves me.Once, when we were kids, I went up to the bell tower with Tommy Bassett and his father. It was dizzying, but the view was spectacular. Check it out: if you look in the window of the bell tower, you'll see an empty space where the bell used to be.

From the archives: my Aunt Maude (Shurtleff) Norton; my grandmother, Mabel (Shurtleff) Boylston; and Roberta Gilluly (now Tilton; my second cousin, and Maude's granddaughter), ringing the bell of the town clock on VJ Day, 1945.
Reportedly, one of the repairs will be on the mechanism that allows the bell to be rung by hand, something that has not been possible in many years.

Eel Pond

2011-01-28T21:30:00.000-05:00

Edgartown Hardware, Redux

2011-01-26T16:37:00.011-05:00

I was glad to have an opportunity to stop in at Edgartown Hardware's new headquarters yesterday, out at the former Old Colony building on the West Tisbury Road, in case you haven't heard.

My first reaction? It smells brand new, like a new car, fresh off the lot.

The new store is nothing if not spacious, with long, wide aisles and lots of room for more of everything; more paint, more paint brushes; more drawers of screws, more tools; a better-than-ever garden department, and new stuff, too, including a new line of bathroom accoutrements, and an entire room dedicated to color and design, and another large room that will feature seasonal products. The store's manager, Jonathan Polleys, is also thrilled that, among the many other improvements, everything is within easy reach, which means no more using long poles to grab items from high places. Amenities also include plenty of parking and complimentary coffee.

It will take some getting used to - the intimacy and history of the Main Street store are noticeably missing, and it does feel a bit like being in California in there - but John and Pat Montes have done a splendid job with their new store (and with breathing new life into an old building). Congratulations, John and Pat, and best wishes for every success.

Co-owner John Montes and manager, Jon Polleys.

More drawers of screws, nuts, bolts, and washers than ever.

I love tools.

The new color design center.

A little old with the new.

I can just imagine Mae Wannamaker behind this big, new counter.

I love Winter

2011-01-26T15:23:00.011-05:00

The truth is, I love winter (and as I write, we are in the middle of another in a series of January snow storms). I love the coziness about it, and the fact that it gives me an excuse to stay inside all day, holed up, focusing on various work-related or creative projects pertaining to photography or music, or reorganizing a closet, or remodeling or rearranging something or other, or catching up on paper work or a sewing project; general nesting. The cozy, indoor-centered winter is a kind of hibernation for me - not the sleeping kind of hibernation that bears do in caves, but the tending to the home-fires kind of rest that grounds me and replenishes my soul. I would never want to live in a part of the world where there is no winter, and I grow weary of the constant, collective complaining about snow and cold. I love it - the frigid air feels good on my cheeks and wakes my brain up - and snow is still magic to me. I love waking up in the morning in the dark, and I also love the dark that closes in on us in the early evening, drawing people together around a table under the glow of lamp light. In fact, I enjoy winter so much that this time of year, when the days start growing longer (at the rate of about one minute per day; it is now still light at 4:45, compared to being dark at 4:00 back in December), I find myself thinking, wait -slow down; I'm not quite finished with my winter's rest - because I know what comes next: the frenetic scurrying; the turning to all things outward and out-of-doors and busy-ness and people and schedules.

Yes, I do love this slow and dark and inward-turning time.

Meet Mya

2011-01-20T19:42:00.004-05:00

Mya Wild Smith was born on Thursday, January 14, 2011 at the Martha's Vineyard Hospital to Julia and Ryan Smith, and joins almost-2 1/2 year-old big sister, Hailey Elizabeth.

Mya and Hailey complete four generations of friendship between Mya's family and mine, a rare and precious occurrence in this age of families being spread from here to kingdom come. Mya's great-grandma Dorothy Wild and my mother were friends; Mya's grandmother, Becky Wild Baxter and I have been good friends for years; our children have been friends since babyhood, and now our grandchildren will be friends. Becky's brother, Mike, and my brother, John, knew each other too, enjoying a summer friendship in the 1950's that revolved around cars - John's '52 robins' egg blue Ford, and the Wild family Oldsmobile.

These photos follow the tradition that was begun in 1974 when Becky came up from Florida to meet my new born son, Adam, when he was four days old and took pictures and brushed my hair - sorely needed and the best hair brushing I've ever had. We've been doing it back and forth ever since then. Well, not the hair brushing part.

Hailey and her new sister, Mya.

Soup Supper, Monday January 18, 2011

2011-01-20T19:19:00.033-05:00

The soup supper at the Methodist Church was sparsely attended this week, probably because it was Martin Luther King's birthday, but it was fun to stop in and say hello to the stalwarts.

Main Street, waxing gibbous moon rising.

John Washbrook and helper serve up Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes.

Cynthia Schilling and Gerry Jeffers

Dennie Rose, allowed over the border for the evening from Oak Bluffs...love ya, Dennie.

The soup supper is as much about socializing as it is about the food.

Two Boats

2011-01-19T07:48:00.000-05:00

The Great Pyramids of Edgartown

2011-01-19T07:43:00.000-05:00

Work continues at our beloved Bend in the Road. The question is, how long until Mother Nature reclaims her beach and puts it back the way she wants it? Any bets? I say three years, tops.

Snow Day

2011-01-12T17:50:00.005-05:00

I love a snow day, when schools close, traffic slows down, and the business of the day comes to a grinding halt; a Sabbath of sorts. Somehow it feels like an extra day, a gift.

Okay, these photos aren't Edgartown, but they were taken by your Edgartown girl, on vacation from her travels for the past two weeks - and oh, how delicious, to sleep in the same bed every night for what will end up being three whole weeks.

Coolidge Corner

Coolidge Corner T stop, looking in-bound.

Coolidge Corner, the old SS Pierce building (now Walgreen's) on the right.

Almost got me!

Wasn't That a Mighty Storm

2010-12-27T17:56:00.001-05:00

A cursory glance at the aftermath of Sunday's storm which amounted mostly to lots of wind, rain, sleet, and slush, along with some power outages, including, as usual, the "Katama Line" (crosses Main Street at Pease's Point Way and runs between Plantingfield and Katama). I was unaffected on Main Street, but I had my hurricane lanterns on stand-by, just in case. The wind is still howling today, Monday, and is starting to push the clouds on out of here. I saw some bright sky this afternoon in the northwest, including a few blue patches - the sun was even out for a while - so by tomorrow we'll probably be clear. I know Boston and NYC got hit hard with a ton of snow, which made for some interesting holiday weekend traveling. Luckily I had no place to go these two days, so I made the best of a couple of cozy days at home.

Merry Christmas from Edgartown News

2010-12-24T13:17:00.006-05:00

Yes, merry Christmas, whatever the words mean to you, from the most religious interpretation all the way to its simply being a greeting of kindness and good cheer, an opportunity to get outside of our own concerns for a brief moment. God knows, we can all use all the kindness and human connections we can give, and make, and get these days, don't you think - more than ever, it seems to me - and I do believe that whatever one's religion or faith tradition happens to be, warmth and kindness and human connections are at the heart of the true meaning of Christmas. So yes, may we all have the happiest and merriest of Christmases, and everything good for the New Year.

My favorite Christmas decoration - anywhere, and for all time - is the Star of Bethlehem that shines over Edgartown every year above the town clock. Its simplicity, and the fact that it sits above the town as a beacon, and that it is always there - since before I was born, even - begin my list of reasons why.

Ode to Snow

2010-12-24T11:25:00.002-05:00

More often than not, I check the weather report for Edgartown prior to my departing Brookline on Monday mornings to get an idea of how to dress and what clothes to pack, but this past Monday I did not. Skies were gray in the city, so I at least thought of tossing my snow boots into my bag, just in case, and lucky for me I did, because by Duxbury - to my surprise and partial delight (I say partial because though I do love snow, I had not given myself any leeway, time-wise, for bad-weather driving) - there was already a coating of snow on the ground and it was coming down hard.

Anyway, here is a short verse, penned by my dear mother a few years back, a ditty I often quote - in elevators, in the check-out line at Trader Joe's, on the street corner - when people say they hate snow (followed by a few photos from Tuesday).

Sign of Age                                                 by Alison Boylston Piazza

If you don't feel a thrill at the news that it's snowing,

Don't look now - your years are showing.

Slow News Week

2010-12-03T12:37:00.006-05:00

All was quiet on the front earlier this week when I had a chance to scout around a bit. The conch season is winding down, scalloping is piddling along with reports of plentiful seed stock but not too many keepers. There were a number of construction and repair projects going on around town, including the drilling beneath the harbor that continues; closing the hole and preparing for new construction at #8 Pent Lane; utility line repairs on Morse Street; and dredging the channel that runs between Big Bridge and Little Bridge in Sengekontacket with its companion project, the ongoing renovation and bolstering of the beach at Cow Bay.

Conch pots, retired for the season, Fishermen's Pier.

Dougie Benefit calls it a wrap for conch fishing, for this year anyway.

Local color.

Memorial Wharf

#8 Pent Lane, awaiting the next phase.

As a frequent walker to the post office, I have often thought that it would make sense to install a pedestrian walk-way nestled safely between the fronts of the cars and the bank building (above). As it is, once you've headed into the parking lot from the sidewalk on Vineyard Haven Road, you're forced to walk in the roadway, directly behind the frequently-backing-out cars. All that would be required would be to move the parking spaces back toward the parking lot a few feet and create a little sidewalk. This makes infinite sense to me. Stay tuned.

Bend in the Road

It appears that Mother Nature is taking care of that pesky rock problem at our beach. The sand on the left is the original (smooth) Bend in the Road sand; the sand on the right is the pebble-filled detritus that was dumped here last year. Seeing this makes me wonder, what is the point of dumping all this sand here - truck-load after truck-load - if it's only going to wash away anyway (maybe you've been following the story of Plum Island's losing battle in the news).? Oh well, thank God for small favors I guess, because that stony soil ruined the beach, in the opinion of many beach-goers.

The end of the public beach, where Cow Bay begins.

This sand is smooth and soft and obviously has been graded (now, does this make sense, to put properly graded sand on a private beach that no-one uses and dump a pile of stones on our much-loved and highly utilized public beach?) I was told that this sand actually comes from New Bedford - foreign soil - shipped over on Packer's barge.

The dredging operation at Big Bridge, with our own Donnie Benefit at the helm.

This is the "wet pit," where the spoils from Sengekontacket are initially deposited. The backhoe scoops out the wet sand - under the watchful eyes of the seagulls lined up on the banks, waiting for clams and other goodies to spew from the pipe - and creates nearby piles; the water drains out and the now-manageable sand is loaded into trucks, for transport either to Cow Bay or to the Pay Beach in Oak Bluffs. This project's main purpose, according to field coordinator, Mark DeFeo, is to open up the channel that runs parallel to the road between both of the bridges so as to increase the circulation, and thereby the health, of Segekontacket Pond. The beach projects are secondary to this purpose.

Pent Lane House is History

2010-11-25T14:13:00.203-05:00

      The dismantling and subsequent removal last week of a house on Pent Lane has at least one Edgartown woman feeling wistful and nostalgic.
     The house in question had deep sentimental value to Jeanne Perry Andrews, who lived in the little house at what is now #8 Pent Lane (house numbers have only been in use in Edgartown for the past thirty years or so - since right around the time we stopped knowing each other - but I digress) for the first four years of her life.
     According to Jeanne, her maternal grandmother, Mary C. Enos, moved the little house - which Jeanne thinks was built in the late 1800s - from its original location on Pine Street (then called St. Michael's Way because of its large Azorean enclave) to the small plot of land she owned on Pent Lane. Jeanne says, "The first thing she did was plant hydrangeas because the color blue reminded her of the old country." The year was 1905.
     Jeanne's mother, Emily, was born in the house in 1907. When Emily married Manuel Perry in 1938, they stayed on with her mother. In 1940 the household expanded to three-generations when Jeanne was born; two years later, Jeanne's brother, David, came along (their sister, Kathy, would be born a few years later, after the family's move to Pierce Lane).
     Jeanne recounts, "We lived with Nana until 1946. We moved to the big house on what was then called Pierce Avenue [now the home of the Christopher Scott family] - my mother always said, 'It's not an avenue, it's a lane;' eventually the name was changed to Pierce Lane. Nana stayed at Pent Lane.
    "One day, when David was four years-old, he disappeared. In those days, Pierce Lane wasn't paved, so they followed his wagon tracks in the dirt down Cottle Lane. They eventually found him at Nana's. He said he wanted to help Nana bring in 'chop-wood,' as he called it. She kept the dry wood in the chicken house. Nana always had chickens - she didn't like to kill them, so she asked the milkman to do it. The house was heated with a combination kerosene, coal, and wood stove.
     "My mother and grandmother - as was typical for that time period in Edgartown - did laundry and housekeeping for the hotels and private parties in town, and Pent Lane was filled with children - the Bettencourt kids: Arthur, Rita, David, and Susan; and the Arnold family - Mildred Arnold ran her little yarn store right out of her front room.
     "Nana lived in the house from 1905 until she sold it in 1955. St. Elizabeth's [across the street] was built during the time she lived there, and she was very happy when the church was built.
     "I can't believe it - a part of my life is going to be destroyed."

Jeanne Andrews reminisces about her early childhood, living with her Nana on Pent Lane.

This archway is a more recent addition to the property and will be preserved by the new owners, reportedly.

Mary C. Enos and Emily Enos Perry, on the kitchen steps. Photo courtesy of Jeanne Andrews.

Jeanne Perry Andrews, sitting on the same kitchen steps - well, not exactly the the same steps, but the same location - November 2010, just weeks prior to the house's scheduled destruction.

The windows and other vital house parts were salvaged and donated to Habitat for Humanity, according to Jeanne.

The week of November 15 found the little house finally meeting its demise. Jeanne says that the new owners, who also own the property adjacent to the back yard, will be building a bigger and wider house that will extend all the way back, spanning both properties, with a garage on the side.

Simpson's Lane

2010-11-21T09:44:00.000-05:00

Simpson's Lane

Am I the only one in town who is of the opinion that this style of architecture is totally out of place in this neighborhood? How did this slip past Edgartown's watch guards?

Autumn Prayer

2010-11-21T09:25:00.008-05:00

by Alison Boylston Piazza

When raking leaves becomes such a chore

That you really think you can't rake anymore,

That's the time that you pray very hard

That they'll all blow into your neighbor's yard.

Drilling to Chappy

2010-11-20T12:36:00.004-05:00

And speaking of utility lines - I happened upon the crew that was setting up its equipment to begin laying a new conduit in order to repair damaged electrical lines to Chappy the other day, a project which has since commenced (full Gazette story here).

David Scott, foreman and owner of Bay State Piping Co., Inc., explained to me that they would be blasting out a channel (hydraulically, I believe - kind of like pumping for clams with Cy Norton) some thirty feet beneath the bed of the harbor.

Being a techno/gadget/gizmo geek, I found the equipment, as well as the whole prospect of drilling beneath the harbor, quite fascinating. I mean, who on earth invented these machines and devised the method for this kind of project?

So, plan on lower Dock Street and Memorial Wharf being in a mess for a while.

David Scott

The drill's entry point.

Edgartown's Old Marine Railway

2010-11-20T11:37:00.000-05:00

Not used much anymore, apparently.

Timeless Yet Different

2010-11-20T10:55:00.005-05:00

I'm still on a bit of a gray/black and white jag, inspired by my mother's poem, I guess, and egged on by the fact that her birthday was a couple of days ago (November 18).

More from one of my favorite haunts, the Reading Room (locals have been wondering for years, whatever do they read in that place?), also including one of my favorite Edgartonians, Steve Ewing; these from a recent gray and drizzly November day.

I think I gravitate to the harbor because it links me to the days of yore - the days of whale ships and sea commerce. There's something somewhat timeless about these harbor scenes, I believe. Timeless, yet a different configuration of boats, people, activities, and sky and sea conditions is to be found every time I venture down there, giving Edgartown Harbor - seemingly bleak to the casual or one-time observer at this time of year, I am sure - a particular dynamism and life.

Song for the Old Year

2010-11-16T14:41:00.004-05:00

A poem by Alison Boylston Piazza

The year is beginning to turn gray;

Gray sky, gray sea -

Clinging, like the old bird's nest in the apple tree

To one last day

Of hope that this is not really all

There is of sun and warm breezes

Before earth freezes

And white silence starts to fall.

Utility Lines

2010-11-15T07:24:00.060-05:00

They've been up-grading the utility lines on Herring Creek Road, the lines that run out to what we used to call Edgartown's Great Plains. A few of the older townies still do call it by that name, but this area is mostly known as Katama these days. Suburbia is more like it.

The reason for the up-grade, of course, is the greatly increased population.

Oh, how far we have come.

I can remember being out at the Waller farmhouse, winter nights, early 1960's it must have been - those years when every teenager in town was friends with and an overnight guest of one Waller or another - looking out the kitchen window and not seeing a single light, just an empty blackness as far as the eye could see. There weren't as many trees in those days, either, so it was mostly wide-open space. About the only sound to be heard was the wind whistling through the bare-bones array of utility wires - telephone wires we called them - wires that fed electricity to the Waller Farm and over to the Wests and the Suttons; to Herring Creek Farm and beyond; to Tony Duart, Chauncy Maury, Ed Bannister, the Wilds and the Turners.

Well, that was then; this is now.

Autumn Sky

2010-11-03T12:17:00.009-04:00

I love the sky, both day and night (and have you noticed Jupiter lately?). This week offered at least one day's worth of dramatic cumulus cloud effects - and, rather than drone on (as someone once said, when asked to explain his poetry, "Do you want me to say it worse?"), I will let the pictures do the talking here.

Local Color, Election Day 2010

2010-11-03T10:23:00.004-04:00

Perfect autumn weather on Election Day 2010 ensured a healthy turn-out of voters.

Mike McCormack's winning - as it would turn out - smile.

Ann Tyra, Jean Brennan, and Janet Sigler welcome and keep track of in-coming voters.

Decisions, decisions...

                         Take a good look - these colors will soon be a fond memory.

                                            Liz O'neill, sporting her own cozy autumn colors.


                                                             Autumn still life.

Sue and Jerry in Ireland

2010-10-30T12:21:00.009-04:00

There are three places in the world I'd love to visit (in alphabetical order): Ireland, Israel, and Italy (and it is totally random and coincidental that they all begin with the same letter,) so yeah, I'm green with envy that Sue Carroll and Jerry Grant recently spent a week in the first of my three choices.

Sue writes, "Reading our favorite newspaper [my competition] on the stone wall at Slea Head Farm which is the westernmost farm in Europe on the end of the Dingle Peninsula. Mollie is the dog - she wasn't interested in having her picture taken...In the background are the Blasket Islands. They were inhabited until 1953 by a small group of rugged souls who have left behind a wealth of written memoirs. So interesting. This is an area of Ireland where the Irish language is still spoken at home. Everyone is bilingual except for our three year-old neighbor. He hasn't started speaking English yet, but he wants to."

Coumeenole Cottage"This is the 200 year-old cottage we rented for the week - as they say in Ireland, 'Pre-famine.' The owners are from Massachusetts and rent it out by the week. Ryan's Daughter was made on the beach in front of the house right around the same time Jaws was being made here. There was a book in the house about the making of [Ryan's Daughter] - we could relate. Many of the people from the Blasket Islands emigrated to the Springfield area - connections everywhere we look." Photos courtesy of Sue Carroll.

Tuesday Walkabout, October 26, 2010

2010-10-29T14:43:00.034-04:00

Davis Lane

It amazes me that I can walk the same basic route through town on any given day and come up with different views and different faces every time. I'm not interested in writing tomes these days - being in school for the past eight years pretty much knocked the long essay out of me - for a while, anyway - but I am realizing, having recently lamented my not beginning this project years ago, that the images I capture today - Edgartown's scenery, architecture, and people - are the makings of tomorrow's history.

The goal of Edgartown News, ultimately, is to turn the mundane into the extraordinary; to celebrate the everyday moments - the people and the views that I take for granted.

...and let's not complete this thought, especially in these trying times.

Fishermen's Pier

The beginning of what is to come.

Timeless

Joe Robichau - a most interesting individual with whom it is always a pleasure to pass the time of day.

The fleet is in.

The harbor is all his now, but I'll bet he would gladly exchange solitude and sovereignty for being fed sandwich and ice cream cone crumbs all day long by the summer crowds.

Does this classic blue Wagoneer say anything other than "Sherm Burnham?"

The tools of Steve Ewing's trade, at rest.

I suspect that this little catboat is named after Oscar Pease who for many years fished out of a similar, but wooden, catboat - most likely built by Manuel Swartz - named Vanity.

Eddie Gentle, about to head out to set moorings with Eddie, Jr.

"Young" Sandy Fisher. Well, that's what we used to call him, to differentiate from his father, but he also has a son named Sandy (technically, Francis Fisher IV), so I guess that makes this Sandy "Middle" Sandy. Here, he is preparing bait for his conch traps. (Sandy the elder, here.)

Sandy's and his mate's doings have attracted a crowd (Mike Jackson and Marty Kelly), with its attendant fish talk, jokes, and news of the day.

North Water Street Lanterns.

Bailey and Joan Norton's home. This may be the only house on North Water Street that is occupied year-round.

I have heard that in North Water Street's hay-day, back in the whaling days - 100 years ago or so - these houses were filled with captains' families, that it was a thriving year-round neighborhood with laundry hanging on clotheslines and children playing (stick-ball or kick-the-can, or whatever they did back then) in the streets.

The days of balmy air and roses are surely numbered.

Edgartown's war and veterans' monuments. The trees in the background give a hint of the spectacular fall display you'll find all around town - more vibrant than usual this year, I think; a subject worthy of its own post, I do believe, but alas, this probably all will have changed by the time I return.

Autumn Rose

2010-10-24T20:05:00.010-04:00

October 24, 2010

Thirty-three years ago today, also a Sunday, as I recall, my mother walked in the door of the house where my husband and three year-old son and I were living at the time, and where I happened to be in the early stages of labor for my second child, with two late-blooming pink roses she had picked from the bush next door. One was a full, round bloom, the other, branching from the same stem, was a tiny bud. She handed the small bouquet to me and said, "The big one is for you - big and round - and the bud is for the little girl you'll give birth to today." This was well before the days of being able to know the gender of your unborn child, so it was a guess on her part, but indeed, my mother's intuition was correct (proving again that mother is always right), as later that evening, in the upstairs bedroom of the house at #25 School Street, my daughter was born.

When Maria was growing up, I would return to that same rose bush on her birthday and pick a pink rose for her birthday table. She's been gone from home for many years now, and we haven't lived in that house since that one winter, but I still find my way to the rose bush on School Street every year on or near October 24th, and there's always at least one pink rose blooming.

In retrospect, it would have been entirely logical to name our autumn baby girl Autumn Rose, but I've always liked the biblical names. There are many Marys and Maries in our line, and I love the name Maria. Maria is not only a beautiful sounding name ("Say it loud and there's music playing..."), but is also a nod to the Italian side of the family. I would learn many years later that my great grandmother Sara Boylston, the woman after whom I was named, had a mother named Maria. I love this symmetry - especially since it was by accident - that Sara's mother's name was Maria, and now a few generations later, Maria's mother's name is Sara.

Maria has a brand new birthday twin, by the way, born this morning to Brook Olson and Clinton Fisher: a baby girl, Isabella. Congratulations to Brook and Clinton, and to Grandma Madeline Fisher who says that everyone is doing well and that Isabella is "definitely a cutie."

I think a pink rose is in order.

#25 School Street, The Holmes Coffin House

What's Going On?

2010-10-22T12:17:00.001-04:00

Not much, but I had a pleasant walk on Wednesday afternoon. Love the fall colors and light and air.

Same well-worn path; different views, new faces.

Main Street looks different than it did a couple of months ago. Summer sure is short.

St. Elizabeth's. By request. I'm still working on this - am trying different angles, difficult to get a good head-on shot of her w/o the power lines interfering. Stay tuned.

Fishermen's Pier. Looks like someone unloading bags of conchs at the far end.

I'm very happy to see the scallopers back at the finger piers.

Always a pleasure to see and chat with Floyd Norton.

All is in order.

Marty Kelly, back with his catch.

Yup, it's that time again.

I like Mike, too. He's got the experience, the history, the smarts, the caring - and my vote.

Congratulations, and Happy Birthday

2010-10-22T09:30:00.007-04:00

Fisher-woman par-excellence, Estey Teller (photo by Tommy Teller)

See - I told you Estey was a great fisherman. I received this photo from Estey's husband, Tommy, who reports that Estey caught this 16.29 lb. bluefish on Tuesday October 12, and that she was the Grand Prize winner in the Boat Bluefish category, making her eligible to draw for the Chevy 4-WD truck (reportedly worth well over $30K). She did not win the truck - according to Tommy, the truck went to "a lucky guy from America" - but Estey did receive $500, a fishing rod and reel, and a Ray Ellis print (awarded to each of the eight category winners). Oh, and let's throw in a nifty Keurig coffee maker and more fishing gear, not to mention Derby Pin #1, which is also awarded to the eight category winners; "A big deal to derby participants," says proud Tommy.

Also, happy birthday today to Estey - as previously mentioned, she and I are birthday twins - and we are happy to share our day with Cheryl Worden Pinkus, Noel Bagnall, and John Moffett - and countless others, I am sure (wasn't Mona Worden's birthday also 10-22 - dunno, as I am digging that out from a very deep recess in my brain, but it does ring a bell).

I am not ashamed to admit that I am sixty years-old today. Maybe I'll start acting my age at some point. But what's the hurry?

Here's to many more - fish, derby pins, and birthdays - for all of us.

PS - I was just reminded that today is also Tommy and Estey's 55th wedding anniversary - Congratulations!

Long Live the Radio Flyer

2010-10-16T17:54:00.010-04:00


State Road, West Tisbury

My little red wagon is long retired from its grocery-hauling duties, having served that purpose quite well in its day. I loved shopping with that wagon, walking straight past the lines of traffic backed up on Upper Main Street in July and August, but it did have one major flaw: it was heavy to pull, even when empty, so hauling a full wagon of groceries home - in those days all the way to Plantingfield Way - took a lot of energy, so I made the switch to a light-weight, folding grocery cart a while back and relegated the wagon to garden and yard duty. I was hoping someday to pull my grandchildren in my Radio Flyer - the super model with wood rails and monster tires - but hauling rocks and dirt, not to mention leaving it out in the weather, has worn the bed down to a fine lace-work of rust, so a new wagon will be needed soon for the babies.

I am of the generation that remembers Lenny Marchant delivering groceries from Connor's Market all over town with his Radio Flyer, and I know I'll never take Lenny's place in the annals of Edgartown Red Wagon History, but at least one person, my neighbor Jim Joyce, did think of me when he saw this video (thank you):

Tommy, Estey, and Bruce

2010-10-04T11:55:00.005-04:00


Bruce Bettencourt

Bruce Bettencourt, with his fishing boat, Big Boo, has been in town, visiting from Florida. Tommy and Estey Teller went out fishing with him over the weekend, out towards Nantucket - at least that was the plan the morning I saw them heading out. I have not heard a report on the success - or lack there-of - of the trip, but knowing this star-studded gang of fishermen (have you ever seen all those gold derby pins Estey wears? Estey is my birthday twin, by the way), I'm sure they came back with bushel baskets full of fish.

Tommy and Estey

Oatmeal Season, Day Two

2010-10-04T11:12:00.010-04:00

Okay, so day two of oatmeal season has not begun so well, my having burnt this morning's batch, which is often the way things go when I am involved with more interesting and creative matters, which includes almost everything. I ate it anyway, though, because I only have one oatmeal pot and it would have been lunchtime by the time I got it scoured out well enough to cook up an un-scorched serving. I'm not a bad cook, really, it's just that I mostly find that eating, and all the activities that surround it, right down to brushing and flossing afterward, is quite disruptive to the flow of my day. I wonder why we were made so that we have to eat, anyway. Think of all the extra time in the day we'd have if we did not have to: 1. think of what we want to eat; 2. buy it; 3. prepare it; 4. eat it; 5. clean up, etcetera. Maybe someday scientists will figure out a way to upgrade the human body so that we won't be constantly interrupted by having to feed it.

See? Even Stop and Shop knows to put apples, dried fruit, and nuts together.

Stop and Shop's fall apple supply is in.
(And surely, isn't flip-flop season out, now that it's cold and dank enough for long pants and a heavy sweater? Don't get me going on what I think of flip-flops - great for the shower, but how on earth is it possible to accomplish anything in life while wearing these flimsy excuses for shoes that expose the toes to all manner of low-lying obstacles and things that drop, not to mention the extra leg muscles involved in keeping them from falling off?)

Oatmeal Season

2010-10-03T22:04:00.003-04:00


View from the Reading Room

I basically eat two things for breakfast: either yogurt with fruit, dried cranberries, and nuts in the summer, or oatmeal with fruit, dried cranberries, and nuts in the winter. These are easy, nutritious, and not as boring as it sounds since I vary the fruit among some combination of bananas, apples, peaches, pineapple, pears, blueberries - whatever is in season - as well as the nuts - either walnuts, almonds, or pecans. Today was the first official day of oatmeal season at my house. It was warm and sweet and stuck to my ribs - a perfect beginning for a cool, blustery, and moody Sunday.


Herring Creek Farm

Dunes, South Beach

October Sky

Yours Truly on Ann Bassett's Vineyard View

2010-09-30T13:24:00.048-04:00

Our own Ann Bassett (Ann has lived in West Tisbury for years, but she will always be ours - your homeys are so proud of you, Ann!) has a wonderful program on MVTV called The Vineyard View on which she interviews islanders from all walks of life and areas of interest. Ann taped a conversation with Yours Truly this past summer, the link to which you will find below.

I greatly admire Ann's work - she has definitely found her niche - do you know, all she did was have the idea, which she took to MVTV, and they taught her how to make the program? - and I am honored that she found me a worthy subject (and it didn't turn out half as dreadful as I thought it would, due in large part to Ann's superb production and editing skills).

This show will also air again on MVTV, whose schedule you will find here, or you may call Laura at 508-696-9760.

In my conversation with Ann I talk (and talk and talk - I've seen her show, doesn't she usually talk more?) about Edgartown in the 1950s, my mother, my religious journey, and end with a song.

To view my interview with Ann Basset, go to: The Vineyard View, which link will take you to MVTV's Video on Demand page. Once the page opens, simply type my name into the search box.