DANGLING CONVERSATIONS

Remember my blog about the black bear who was roaming through my neighborhood two months ago? He’s back, despite all efforts.

Backyards were stripped of bird feeders. Garbage cans were placed curbside only minutes before Jayco’s Disposal truck zipped up Gateway. Patio grills remained cloaked in black covers for much of the summer as residents worried about attracting Yogi with the aroma of barbecued burgers. 

All in vain, according to an August 18 news clip on WGME-TV:  “Mainers reminded to watch out for bear after new sighting in Wells.” 

Which got me thinking. Every week I write a blog yik-yakking about different topics. Occasionally there’s another chapter to the story. Such as the “Wandering” titled Wear the Damn Mask, suggesting that was a viable form of mitigation against the raging virus. 

(Dotty Bousquet and Barbara Turitz MASKED on Casco Bay.)

Within minutes of posting, two friends from Portland texted a photo showing them wearing masks while boating out on Casco Bay!  At that time in early July, there were slightly more than 75,000 recorded COVID deaths in the United States; today there are more than 175,000 and that number is rising weekly. 

What’s it going to take for people to wear a mask? Until we have a vaccine, masks, frequent hand-washing and social distancing are all we truly have to fight the coronavirus. Wake up, people.

There are some happy endings to several summer blogs. I no longer have to cross state lines to get a pedicure. Grandson Max (whose virtual high school graduation I watched on a computer) has unpacked his duffle in the engineering dorm at the University of New Hampshire. The “Little Chapel at the Beach” continues to pulse with blues renditions of “Amazing Grace” on Sunday mornings. 

And Pamela Harriman’s shredded blue tablecloths? I’m still contemplating your suggestions of converting them to napkins, curtains, caftans, table runners, dust rags and designer face masks. 

One “dangling conversation” had mixed results. After blogging about that adorable roadside flower stand here in the Kennebunks, a person driving by stopped to swipe all the dollar bills in the brass box plus several bouquets of dahlias and zinnias. When word of that thievery got out, a very nice local drove to the stand and handed the owner a $20 bill, “just because.” Still…what kind of person robs a flower stand?

I’ve also heard sad tales from waitresses working at local restaurants. One told me, “Customers are almost abusive, as if it’s our fault that service is a little slow because we’re delivering their drinks and dinner to them in tents outside, a good distance from the restaurant kitchen. They constantly challenge me on why I’m wearing a mask. When I tell them it’s as much for their sake as mine, they laugh.” Maybe before reading the menus, these less-than-couth diners should remember to count to 10.

And … we’ve got sharks circling in our Gulf of Maine waters. Mr. Wonderful’s putting woes continue. (He’s now activated putter #32 from his vast collection, hoping THIS will be the panacea.) And I saw my first blown and black fuzzy caterpillar the other morning.

But those are dangling conversations for another blog.