It's decorate-your-door week at school.  I commissioned a couple of students to put my favorite new quote--well, new to me, the quote itself is actually over a 1,000 years old--up on my door.  These days all you really need is a windowsill and a Kindle--if you're looking to live the portable lifestyle, that is; me, I still get my kicks from the great wide open.

I've been reading Mycellium Running: How Mushrooms Can Help Save the World, a birthday gift from my mother.  Fascinating stuff.  Don't think I have the brains to go into detail, but let me say this: decomposition is a beautiful thing.

The kettlebell (a cannonball with a handle) was first used as a Russian training device over 300 years ago, so though it might seem like just another gimmick in a long line of fitness fads, it's the real deal.  Along with the hunk of iron that we bought Jake for his birthday, we gave him a copy of Enter the Kettlebell.  Its author, Pavel, a former special forces trainer in Russia, is credited with popularizing the kettlebell in the USA.  Chief among its virtues, at least in my mind, is that the kettlebell develops strength while simultaneously powering up the heart.  Or, as Pavel puts it so wittily, you develop your heart "without the dishonor of cardio."

All the beauty in the world.  We had a wonderful meal with our Sweet on our way to a conference in Augusta.  We stuffed ourselves in the dining hall--Jessie looked at our plates piled high with food and said, "you two are going to get the freshman fifteen!"; but, you know how it is, free food... anyway, we worked off a bit of the buffet with a ramble on Colby's nature trail.  Nice.

My beautiful baby boy turns 22 today.  Gee wiz, I must be an old man.  Here Jake demonstrates the 60 lb. kettlebell we got him for his birthday.  Yes, that is what he wanted for a gift: a hunk of iron.  That's keeping it simple, my friends.  Rock on, Jake!!!

This stump, which is from a tree felled a couple of years ago, looks like it was painted black--pretty cool. But maybe it needs to be seen to be appreciated. At any rate, it's back where we did the big cut, so no need to remove it. I was surveying the land, so to speak, a couple of days ago, and realized we could have a veritable farm if we so desired. Sounds like a retirement plan to me!

Dreary weather, finally. We were blessed with some serious sunshine on this staycation. Now we can catch up on some reading, get our house in order and get ready for the home stretch before the end of school. For all you regular working stiffs who must toil through summer... tough luck!

Two heads are better than one. It occurs to me that human beings now have two brains: the God-given one and Google. Inspired by my other brain, I'm going to try a stump-removal system that does not require a stump-grinder (which I would have to rent). My goal is to clear some land behind the garden to plant potatoes. This year I'm going to grow sweet potatoes in one of the beds, but will probably skip the white potatoes. Last year we grew some in large containers, but it was a pretty limited harvest. Hence, my interest in clearing some land.

Today we gathered some more cow manure, then headed to Cutler to pick up some arugula that was free for the taking from Candy's greenhouse (thank you Candy!). After that we got a truckload of seaweed for our compost pile. Ocean breezes, seaweed, manure--the smells of nature--sure beats the odors of my childhood (i.e. the New Jersey Turnpike, Fresh Kill landfill and the subway). Yesterday the cows gave us some space, but today, knowing us a bit better, they crowded around us as soon as we got inside the fence. Later we rewarded them with a couple loaves of bread. I can see why Hindus consider cows sacred, I really can.

Yeah, it was a glorious day for shoveling manure. Cows are composting machines, and this particular herd is polite, gentle and beautiful with a peaceful presence. Definitely could not have asked for better company. And it was great to spend the day with my lovely wife too!
See, she's laughing, because she knows that I am funny.

Splitting wood on the homestead holiday.

The puzzle will not be solved.

Today is the post-full moon, Friday the 13th, last day before vacation--ought to be a fun one at school. We had planned on going to NY, but that's not in the cards for us. Instead, we'll hang around the homestead, working on the garden and the woodlot. Activities will include our 2nd annual hauling of manure. Now that's a vacation!

I'm sending all my prayers to my mother in Boston. Here's to hope.

The Appalacian Trail has been routed to include a multitude of beautiful mountains, but then there are many hills that hikers consider nothing special; hence, the acronym PUDS (pointless up and downs). Pictured above is Jake doing our PPE (pointless pack excursion), which only makes sense in the context of training for PUDS. Normally when you're on the trail you think, well, if anything happens to me, at least I have a tent and sleeping bag and food and water. But what would we do if we got stuck on the side of the dirt road, would we find comfort in our 20 lb. kettlebell?

I know what you're thinking, if we don't feed this girl she's going to shrink away to nothing. I mean, I know people lose weight on the plant-based diet, but I had no idea I'd have to go out and buy all new furniture. But seriously, Cara's weight does not fluctuate. She can eat three gallons of ice cream or an arugula salad and it makes no difference, she's always at her fighting weight of 105 lbs. Even when she was pregnant she snapped right back to her regular weight minutes after giving birth. I'm surprised it didn't make other women hate her--but then, who could hate my loveable little lady? You know what they say: Everybody Loves Cara.

Sunday.

I was standing in the backyard talking to Greg and Suzy, when I heard rustling in the woods. I had no idea what was making the noise, and had no plan to investigate. Greg was talking about The China Study, which we had loaned to them, and how he and Suzy were joining the plant-eater team. Everybody who reads that book seems to have the same reaction! Anyway, I guess this turkey knew we were friendly folk, because he came out of the brush and walked right up to us. He stood around gobbling while I took a few photos, then headed back to the woods. Made my day.

We're a quarter of the way through our 40 workout/hike program. Today's hike was especially enjoyable because Cara joined us; her conversational skills go a long way toward taking the mind off the pain. (Well, it's really not pain, just a bit of discomfort here and there). I went old-school for the workout part of the program: 110 pull-ups, 220 push-ups, 330 sit-ups. That had me breathing like a creeper, let me tell you. Tomorrow I'll do the lumberjack workout; that is, I'll chop wood, then hike. Yeah, a little of this, a little of that. It's a happy life.

Llama love you too!

This is the 500th post here at Wisdom in the Birches. Wow! There ought to be door prizes, like this original Austin Mini for instance. We happened past it in St. Andrews and Jake and Cara thought it would be the perfect addition to Mike R's Used Cars. It is cute, I'll give it that, kind of like that baby llama that some of you failed to notice on April 1. Funny that, and I'll tell you why. When we walked up to the pen housing the llamas we heard the bleating of what sounded like a goat. But then Cara said, "no, it's a sheep." So we went back and forth, it's a sheep; no it's a goat, etc., etc. Until Cara, redeeming herself and shaming us, says, "it's a baby llama!" Duh. A baby llama with the mama and papa llamas. Go figure...

No comment for the baby llama? Really? Come on, people, you can't get any cuter than that!

That could be Machias, if the town had any sense; but instead of cute little shops and nice places to walk along the water, we have a couple of gas stations and a bottle redemption. Oh, don't be so negative-- at least there is the hardware store. Anyways, St Andrews is pictured above, all pristine and perfect in its sweet little corner of Canada. Well, they do have socialized medicine over there so they're probably just a bunch of commies. Ha!

Looks like we're in for a glorious Sunday!

Today was a day of many delights. First thing this morning we walked on the beach at Roque Bluffs, then took off for St. Andrews where we strolled around Kingsbrae Gardens, had a nice lunch and did a wee bit of shopping. I bought some Adams Peak White Tea that is grown in Sri Lanka and only harvested at night--there was even more to the story than that, but I couldn't keep it all straight. The shopkeeper told me that she drinks it every morning and that it wards off colds and even speeded her father's recovery from cancer. Potent stuff, I guess, but with a mild, pleasing flavor (I'm drinking it right now!). So between that and the apple cider vinegar, I just may never get sick again.
We've been to the gardens before, but there was something special about being there off-season. There was nobody else there (not even workers), which somehow added to the magic, and even though much was dormant, we happened on some vibrant groundcover that really popped against the wheaty background. Not only that, we got to commune with peacocks and llamas.
I took quite a few photos, which I look forward to sharing over the next few days.

Not sure why, but my mind often veers toward the ideal of having less stuff, to the notion of being something of a minimalist. To that end I have gone through phases of de-cluttering and frugal living. But lately I've actually reflected on the fact that I am one lucky guy because I have so much cool stuff. I mean, I've always counted the blessing of having shelter--especially in the context of this house, which I love so much--but I also consider myself quite fortunate for having a nice car, and a kayak and hiking gear, x-country skis and my own fitness facility! No doubt about it, nothing is more important than the love of family and friends; but stuff, it has its place. Know what I'm sayin'?

Yeah, last week I was paddling the Machias River, and today we hoofed it through a little snow squall. But, you know what, a good time was had by all--me and Jake, that is. Today was the first time we did hike first, workout second, and it took a little self-prodding. But we got 'er done, yes sirree Bob, or something like that. What am I talking about? I'm just talking, just talking for the sake of hearing my own voice, 'cept that that voice is only inside my head. How 'bout you, heard any interesting voices lately?

Yesterday our hike seemed pretty tough after our workout, but today we seemed to breeze through it. We're off to a good start, but I know how challenging a challenge such as this can be when you begin fighting not just the workload but the monotony. Fortunately Jake and I have each other so we can pass the time dissecting Linsanity and what Tim Tebow will mean to the Jets, not to mention dreaming up new workout schemes. In case I didn't make the regimen clear yesterday, the goal is to do 40 workouts/hikes in an 8 week span. Basically its a second job where the pay is not money but physical prowess and glory. Probably I'll have to spend a lot of time trying to get the wifey to keep her hands off me!

Today we started a new regimen. Jake wanted to embark on an 8-week strength program built around a few total body lifts. I wanted to get in shape for hiking, which I've discovered is best done by... hiking. The elegant solution: do both. So today, for instance, we did bench presses, rope climbs and dead lifts, then strapped on the packs (still 26 lbs.) and hiked four miles. Tomorrow we'll do military presses and dead lifts, then hike with the packs. The day after that, though, we'll really shake things up. We'll hike first, then do the bench press/rope climb/dead lift protocol. Not sure if we can really pull it off, but if we do, we'll be some rugged.

But if you want to go for a gambol with a 26 lb. pack, help yourself...

Guess what I did after work today? Hint:

Last year it seemed like we didn't get any real summer weather until deep into August. Now, here we are in March with two 80 degree days in a row. If you don't have spring fever you better check your pulse. Cara was away on a college tour yesterday, and, you know, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Tonight we'll eat some quinoa cous cous with avocado and some brussel sprouts, then we'll watch a little How I Met Your Mother, talk about how blessed we are, give each other a peck and drift off to some dreamy sleep. Guess I wouldn't have guessed way back when that I would consider that a perfect evening, but that's how we roll up here in the hinterlands. That's how we roll...

This stone wall is located a short walk from Richard and Debbie's house in Bridgton. Not that I'm planning to lay down any granite slabs such as these, but I am committing myself to continue the rock wall that I started soon after we moved into this house. Back then I used a lot of ledge that had been blasted in Roque Bluffs. Don't think I can find any more material like that, so I'll be spending a lot of time prowling the woods with a pry bar in my hand. But then, perhaps I shouldn't get too ambitious, because usually when you fight the black flies, the black flies win.

This is what happens when you get old. You have to wheel your own birthday cake out of the supermarket. I offered to pay for it, but then got struck with the palsy that has afflicted me for the entire 23 years of my marriage. Every time I offer to pick up the tab when I'm out with my father-in-law my hand goes limp. It's a pretty serious medical condition, but so far I haven't been able to find a specialist who can provide the necessary treatment. Well, luckily Richard has deep pockets, so it's pretty much a no-harm-no-foul situation.

Last night I got in the St. Patrick's Day spirit. I drank a pint or two of Ale and regaled my wife with my philosophical musings. To wit, when I talk about being sprinkled in the woods, it is not, to my mind morbid. Far from it. I am at peace with the temporal nature of existence. I'd say, on the other hand, when I've awoken in the middle of the night with a feeling of dread--that's morbid; it's an anxiety wrought by this need to hold on to something that can't be grasped. You know, this all made a lot more sense when I was a bit tipsy. Plus I haven't even had a cup of tea yet.
Yeah, so what I'm trying to say, Happy St. Patrick's Day! Enjoy your corned beef and cabbage and the many days of sunshine that begin now.
Plus, for any of you keeping count, today we celebrate the 72nd year of a very special man in Bridgton, ME. Happy birthday Pop!

We always felt like we missed out when Jake went away to high school--that something was irrevocably lost; but, in one of life's unpredictable twists and turns, we now get to have Jake as a quasi only child as he finishes up his college degree at UMM. One of the special benefits for me is that we workout together, though I guess now I'm more of a spotter than a partner in that I'm not up for using as much weight as Jake likes to lift. Nevertheless, it's great fun for me to watch him make gains on an almost daily basis. This afternoon I took a photo of him doing a squat in his black sweats, blue Cons and camo gloves. That's style and strength, my friends.

I'm not jumping around for nothing out there. I've just completed a burpee in honor of Paulina Salcedo-Watson who, at 11:27 this morning, completed the Burpee Challenge. That's over 5,000 burpees in 100 days. Way to go Paulina! I believe I was at the tail-end of my own burpee challenge when Paulina and family came up to visit last summer, and somehow she was inspired by my quest. But she never told me she was embarking on the challenge herself, said she was afraid she would "wimp out." So when she notified me today of her achievement I was both thrilled and touched to know that I have a new comrade-in-arms. I actually got to do a few more burpees today than I intended, because when I asked Greg B., the newest member of the Birch Wisdom Workout Club to take my picture, he had a little technical difficulty with the camera. I had to keep the burpees going till that flash popped. "Thanks a lot," I sarcastically said to him. "That's what friends are for," he told me.

Cousin Kevin has a point: what's winsome about a pile of wood? Well, in this case, we're talking white birch with bark that shimmers with shades of violet that makes you feel as though you've stumbled on an accidental art exhibit. So why so brutally cut it to the ground? Fair question. And I'll tell you, I had this thought yesterday that there should be some sort of ceremony for the tree, thanking it for giving its life so that we can have warmth. That's why--hopefully far into the future--I'd like to be cremated and sprinkled in the forest--the one place where I never feel lonely. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

That's what I'm talkin' about! Went for an afternoon walk with Mango Mama and the Wonder Boy, then straight to the woods to toss some wood into a winsome pile, and now here I sit, 6:30 P.M., and it's still not dark. Yeah, daylight, it's a beautiful thing. That lost hour, on the other hand (insert whiney voice here): it's just not fair! Oh, but you know, fare is what you pay to ride the bus.

Ducklings in the distance from yesterday's Friday afternoon decompression walk along the river.

Today I reacquainted myself with the glorious glory of the back forty. I live a Wizard of Oz life--whenever I feel like something is lacking it turns out it is right in my backyard. This morning I felled a few trees, bucked 'em up and got ready to put in next winter's wood. Then I just enjoyed the sunshine and the tranquility of our wonderful home. If there's a should--and there shouldn't be--I didn't boil off any sap. Matter of fact, I'm behind the 8-ball on that score and it's hard to tell whether it's going to be much of a season for maple syrup anyway, what with the temperatures forecast to be in the 50's in the daytime and not dropping below freezing at night. I only tapped a few trees, so even if the sap runs, our output will be limited.

We've committed ourselves to eating as much food as possible out of our freezers, and, believe it or not, it's been a fun experience. I mean, you just never know what you'll find. Yesterday Cara dug out 8 lbs. of green beans. She roasted up a big batch with olive oil and garlic and, let me tell you, it was like eating candy. Makes me feel like we've gotten a head start on spring cleaning--too bad there's not a similarly amusing way to clean out the basement.

American Tao -- no. 47

The spirit is humble
resides in the recesses
and the great wide open
sometimes even cruises
down the highway
in an old truck.

Wisdom prevails
when the mind
is empty.

Are your boots
made for walking?

There's my lady in the infamous Patagonia Nano Puff Pullover in the delightful color Mango. Looks good on her, especially with the setting sun in the background, but when I'm wearing it it takes on a whole new flavor. I bought it because it compresses into a little pillow, which will give me comfort at night and warmth in the morning when I'm out on the trail. I wanted it in Forge Gray, but for that you have to pay full boat. It's only with the fruity colors that you get the big discount. Anyways, after it arrived in the mail I wore it over to my mother's house. Let me tell you how that went:
Cara: What do you think of Mike's new jacket?
Edith: Not much.
Well, my mother is famous for her honesty.

... suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us...
--Romans 5

The museum at Colby blows my mind, but I guess that's not enough for them, because, as you can see in the photo above, it's undergoing a major expansion. I think it will be finished just about in time for the Sweet's graduation, so if you intend to attend that wondrous event don't forget to take in a little culture. Not to rush things, though, seeing as how Jessie is only at the halfway point and really loving the college experience.

I guess winter has finally arrived... in March. Kayaking and hiking will just have to wait.

Yesterday I was complaining about how my body was in a state of rack and ruin, then this morning I realized that I had worked out 7 days in a row. Not smart.

Bang for the buck exercise-wise, I'm thinking nothing beats the climbing rope. It's just you and gravity--and, in the end, you know, gravity always wins.

I don't listen to Rush Limbaugh, but I'd like a list of his advertisers so I can go on my own private boycott. Where I work you get a detention for calling people names; where he works you get paid millions. And we wonder why kids often think adults are full of baloney.

Book recommendation: The Art of Fielding. The great American novel is still kicking, after all.

Life, for me, is overflowing with blessings--but I so wish I lived closer to my peeps. And to think that once upon a time I couldn't wait for Max to go away to college so I could get him and his big stinking feet out of our cramped bedroom!!!

This is the Green Goddess, the delicious entree I had at the Life Alive Organic Cafe in Central Square, Cambridge, MA. I also had a Superhero juice which was made from apple, carrot, spirulina, cayenne, garlic, honey and even contained apple cider vinegar. These people know how to whip up some fast, healthy, delicious stuff. There are currently two of these establishments in operation and they're opening a third this spring. In my dreams Life Alive supplants McDonald's and people in America walk around with a glow--instead of looking pasty, misshapen and tired. Ouch. Was that mean? I'm sorry to anybody who might have taken offense; but then, I doubt anybody feels like they're doing their body a favor by eating at McDonald's. I don't know, it just astounds me that you can buy crap at every corner, but you have to go out of your way to get tasty nutritious fare.

Yesterday we made our long way home from Boston--the Green Line to the packed Trailways bus to the drive down lonely Route 9. But it was well worth it, that's for sure. I enjoyed every minute of my time visiting family in the big city. I woke up this morning in a languid state, content to just enjoy the view out the window. After a couple cups of tea and a big bowl of Mike's Muesli and blueberries I tapped a few trees, dropped off our seed order and got a pot of bean soup going. Now, though, I need to pack again, as tomorrow we drop Judy off at the airport, visit the Sweet, then attend a workshop on Monday in Bangor. We're practically jet-setters, I suppose, outside of the fact that we don't travel on jets.
Darn me, I almost left out the most important thing. This morning I shaved with the free shaving cream that Alice gave me from her coupon haul. She also sent us home with toothpaste, deodorant, mouthwash and various other sundries. And not only that, it's all the ritzy stuff, like Tom's of Maine, that I would normally be too cheap to buy. So when it comes to couponing, my sister is a wonder. Come to think of it, she's a wonder in every way.

The time has come for me to chronicle the toes-to-bar demonstration that Kevin requested at the parkour course. As you can see, Kevin has moves most people could scarcely imagine, let alone emulate. At first I thought, "hey man, this isn't going to work if you don't at least get your feet off the ground," but as it turned out he completed the exercise and flew off the bar before I even completed one rep. When we were younger I might have been wounded to be bested so effortlessly, but now, what can I say, I am humbled.