Sea Street is mostly shady until ten o’clock in the morning.  After that, not so much.  The hill gets longer and surely steeper, and the post office and General Store no longer call as loudly.  Locals know this and walk early; visiting runners and bikers learn quickly and walk when winded.  But what of those who walk to enjoy and maybe live longer and who just need to rest a bit?  Clearly Tenants Harbor needs a bench, but it has always needed a bench and it hasn’t happened these past thirty years.  Well guess what? Walkers are starting to use RB’s new rock wall as a place to sit a bit in the midst of their Sea Street hill climb and to watch the comings and goings of the boats of Tenants Harbor.  However unintentionally, Roseledge Books is saving the day!


So RB asked RBFriends to sit upon the wall, see and be seen, and report. And it is very good news.  You will all be excited to know that the wall is bum-high, flat, and comfy, well, rock-comfy, if you are from 5’3″ to 5’6″ and choose to sit on different spots on the slope. For those of you who are taller, you can be “the thinker” with your chin on your knees and show how flexible you are or you can stretch out your legs. So far the wild roses have not taken over the verge, so ankle-prickles are unlikely. Then, when stiffness threatens, you can stretch your legs up the walk to RB and consider book treasures.  Full disclosure: Taller people were leaning against the higher rock wall next door, but that wall, though beautiful (See picture below.), does not have a sit-able top.


And today’s harbor was so worth watching.  Four double-canoes were  following the shoreline,  a very well-balanced person was straddling and paddling a water board, the five littlest sailboats were zig-zagging through a lesson, and the harbor master’s boat was apparently making it’s rounds.  The lobster boats were all out and the sailboats had not started to come in yet.  I watched complacently under the shelter of RB’s new blue umbrella, replacement for the jazzier striped model which was blown in half by Arthur.


I thoroughly enjoyed the “old friends” in Elly Griffiths’ latest Ruth Galloway mystery, A Dying Fall.  Cathbad, godfather to 18-month-old Kate and the baby-sitter every child should have, has taught her to answer the phone and say “Peace,” which she transforms into “Piss.”  Another old-bone mystery and campus murder bring Nelson and Ruth and all their baggage together again, which is good, but it takes her away from her front yard that is “not quite land, not quite sea” which is not.  Revisiting old friends may be the best reason to find a series to love.

On the strength of liking old friends Claire and Jamie Fraser in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series, I tried her recommendation of one in Phil Rickman’s Merrily Watkins series, The Fabric of Sin.  Merrily Watkins is  a  Church of England  deliverance consultant, that is, an exorcist, for the Diocese of Hereford which borders Wales.  Knights Templar, Welsh nationalism, Prince (Charles) of Wales all come into play because the Prince’s property purchase stirs worries.  Very contemporary, well-researched, lots of politics, great dialogue and likeable characters.  I like Julia Spencer-Fleming better, probably because I am not an Anglophile (“Of course not; you’re Irish,” a friend snarked.), but I’ll read another of his.  I hope Diana Gabaldon’s latest, Written In My Own Heart’s Blood, is out in paperback by next summer and Julia Spencer-Fleming’s Through the Evil Days, too.

My favorite of the summer is author Peter Temple, but I’ve already read the four Jack Irish mysteries that he’s going to write.  Fortunately, his equally Australian,  edgy, dialogue-rich out-of-series, Truth, was maybe even better.  And I have The Distant Shore, Shooting Star, and Iron Rose waiting.


Tonight I’ll start Dara Horn’s Guide For the Perplexed.  The blurb began:  “Software prodigy Josie Ashkenazi has invented an application that records everything its users do. When an Egyptian library invites her to visit as a consultant…”  and I was sold.  I’ll keep you posted.  Book Report: It’s a day and 52 pages later and I’m not going to read more.  Too little philosophy, especially about technology and memory, which was very interesting and recalled fears of story tellers when written records emerged, and too much dysfunctional family.  I do not understand the attraction of dysfunctional families ever, but especially during summer vacation.  And I know a bit about the Cairo Genizah, so the book held too little anticipation.

So tonight I’ll start Graeme Simison’s The  Rosie Project, which is about a socially inept genetics professor’s plan to find a wife and  by all accounts “a rom-com with heart and humor.”  I am so ready to  laugh-out- loud.


Lots of walkers-by enjoying the newly painted front of the garage.  After ten years, I finally recognized that the shingles with peeling red paint and no primer were never going to become part of a handsome, dappled look.  So Scott scraped, which took five minutes, and painted the part of the front that is not the door and then freshened the lemon-haze edge of the roof (the outer eave?).  “It’s becoming a Tenants Harbor attraction,” he gloats.  It DOES look good.

Good grief!  Another bird just dive-bombed the blueberry bush, immediately outside the window.  (See webcam.)  Fortunately, this one did not hit the window and knock itself out.  But no time to say good-bye; I need to pick the lot.  Wish you were on your way.






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