Ice, ice baby

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.” ― Edith Sitwell

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” 
― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America

AUBURN, Maine — Those demented souls, who are still holding out for a white Christmas or want to go walking in a  winter wonderland should visit the Pine Tree State, which is now freeze-dried thanks to a three-day ice storm which has pulled the plug on 100 hundred towns across the state. 

There is nearly an inch of ice on wilting limbs, and we all know how that goes — badly. 

If you want to take your chances on I-95 and don't mind bouncing off guard rails as you slide up the interstate, bring your skates or a dog sled. Everything has been coated with dangerous, solid ice. You can take in spectacular views of trees bowing to Mother Nature and electrical fires as limbs come crashing down on droopy wires. For more spectacular views, you might see transformers bursting like the rockets red glare and witness neighborhoods descend into darkness.

The police scanner is alive with mayhem. Numerous reports of limbs and downed wires are keeping police and fire departments rushing through the snow on eight-cylinder cruisers. There is no rest for weary Central Maine Power crews who have the nerve to repair power lines in the cold, damp dark.

Right now, there are 30,000 of us sitting in the cold dark and shouting obscenities that can be heard for miles around central Maine. A passing Central Maine Power truck brings us to the window and hope. The F-word is the  adjective of the day. Sentences contain three or four of the most reviled word in obscenity's lexicon. We have been stuck indoors for nearly 48 hours as we tend to our wood stoves and generators. 

You take your life into your own hands when you walk to the car or go shopping. My walkway is a miniature ice rink without a Zamboni.

If you are driving, keep an eye for downed wires and remember no power line is safe to touch — ever! Central Maine Power has been reminding Mainers of the dangers of touching a power line for years. 

No kidding! Thanks for the tip!

I am witnessing my second ice storm in the Pine Tree State. In 1998, the rented house I was living in went dark for nearly five days. This family of three was offered a place to stay in front of a warm fireplace at a friend's home for the night. We woke up early and returned to our house, which now resembled an igloo surrounded by sheets of ice.

My son was two years old, and I wasn't about to risk his health. It was time to retreat and live to fight another day with my shovel and rock salt.

That's when we decided to abandon the place and headed down a dangerous I-95. We were like refugees as we fled the cold and ice. My mother, who is no longer alive, opened the door that morning. Her jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped out her head when she saw us on her doorstep. This family of three was seeking warmth and a hot meal.

That night, I was called back up to Maine to put out the Sun Journal. For the first time in the paper's history, we could not get the newspaper out the night before when the ice storm got its icy hands around the Pine Tree State.

In just 18 hours, I traveled back and forth to Maine to get the edition out on the streets, logging some 470 miles. 

Two days later, the landlord had the rented house up and running with generator. There was heat in the building.

Today, the ice storm of 2013 is like '98's kid brother. It isn't spectacular and we have only lost power three times for about three hours. It is not a bust, though. The city of Bangor might not get power back for nearly a week.

We have been lucky in the Lewiston-Auburn area. Let's just hope Santa won't slide off a roof and hita tree during each rooftop landing. I hate to see the cherubic fellow injure himself on that special night.

The lights are on at my home in Auburn, but all that could change with the drop of a limb.

Late bloomer

“The green thumb is equable in the face of nature's uncertainties; he moves among her mysteries without feeling the need for control or explanations or once-and-for-all solutions. To garden well is to be happy amid the babble of the objective world, untroubled by its refusal to be reduced by our ideas of it, its indomitable rankness.” 
― Michael Pollan, Second Nature: A Gardener's Education

AUBURN — A month-long deluge, which produced enough rain to nudge the ill-fated Titanic free from a sandbar, put a huge strain on gardens across central Maine.

According to a story in the newspaper I work for, the Sun Journal reported there was 20 days of precipitation in June, which means my garden and pallid Mainers only saw 10 days of sun. The Pine Tree State was on the receiving end of 7.32 inches of rain in June. The norm is 3.57 inches.

All this London-like weather and soupy mess meant all gardens were either washed away or struggled to grow against the gray sky.

But what a difference a month makes despite this summer's pathetic start.

Just when I thought I my garden would become as worthless as bunch of weeds, July heated up in the nick of time and broiled the Northeast in a week-long heat wave that made us all long for some cool, Canadian air. Everything will be late this season, but better late than never.

The sun was like the cavalry in those old western movies. The bright-burning star rescued my damp garden from oblivion.

And then it happened. My garden began to grow and came to fruition in the sweltering July heat. This season's harvest won't rival last year's bounty, but at least I am seeing results despite June's monsoons and a groundhog assault that sent me looking for Army-surplus artillery. These bastards gnawed on my broccoli and chewed up nearly all of my lettuce. My neighbor and I captured a total of five of these destructive creatures and banished them to a nearby lake where they are sunning themselves on the shoreline. If they come back, I will take these bastards out for a walk, but they know better not to make an appearance.

The cucumbers survived and I have picked about a dozen of them. The hardy broccoli flourished after the groundhogs conveniently went missing (I did not report their disappearance to the proper authorities). I am growing big-boy tomatoes, and they are pretty damn big and there are plenty of them. Colleagues who have sampled these prize tomatoes say they are so sweet and delicious. 

Their accolades make me blush with pride. But I am a master gardener, and I am that good.

Right now, I am preparing at least 10 bags of frozen spaghetti sauce and using the rest of the tomatoes for grilled-cheese sandwiches. 

My carrots took a hit, and I will only get a few of those. After most of my lettuce was ravaged by these fur bags, I planted Swiss chard and spinach, and I recently picked nearly a shopping bag full of the green stuff, and it really is good stuff.

My biggest surprise is the way my summer squash came to life after I planted it by seed. I had never planted squash from seed before. I usually purchase seedlings from a local farmer and take my chances with Mother Nature. My green peppers also surprised me.

I did manage to grow two huge sun flower plants by seed. I lost several of them to the jaws of my nemesis — the groundhog. They now stand seven-feet tall, and could give any NBA player a hard time underneath the net.

I think there are two reasons why my garden endured a wet beginning to summer. It is slanted and the water drains to one corner, and I use grass clippings to smother weeds. The rain also has a hard time penetrating the clippings, which also add nitrogen to the plants.

But I will take anything the garden yields because store-bought produce will never, ever stand up to my healthy vegetables.

Star Wars

Besides my passion for gardening, I also enjoy cooking in the kitchen and on my deck. I recently received a Brinkman smoker grill. It looks like R2-D2, but the diminutive robot can't cook meat and vegetables like the Brinkman.

I know Obi-won Kenobi and Luke Skywalker wouldn't mind sampling one of my culinary delights prepared on this R2-D2 wannabe.