Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its sixth year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

June 10, 2014

MIKE & ME

... most likely someplace in alaska, possibly the kenai peninsula, spring of 1961 ... notice that my trousers are in the "ma, they're pinchin' my you-know-what" stage ... odd, how it seemed forever they stayed with the cuffs rolled up three times, then, seemingly skipping any sort of "they fit" period, they transitioned to the high-water style ... the only tactic i had to counter ma's devious torture system was to wear out the knees faster than she could apply patches ... that didn't always work, of course, but there was comfort in the fact that if a savage wolf ever attacked me at least my kneecaps would remain scar free ...
... ma wasn't with us on this trip ... simple evidence of that is the fact that mike is flagrantly violating the "gentlemen don't put hands in pockets" rule ... ma had lots of these rules and regulations ... she said they were written down in a book ... when she and pa were out of the house we'd search for it, but we never managed to discover the secret hiding spot ... then again, most of the time our searching ended up being a quest for christmas candy she stored away months in advance of the holiday ... pa was a silent accomplice, his loyalty assured because by finding the candy we'd also find the giant cans of nuts, and he'd pretty much sell his soul for a handful of cashews ...

AROUND TOWN

... sunday, after riding my motorcycle a couple of hundred miles, of which about half was back roads and country lanes i've never explored, i finished the day with a swim in east pond and visit with my friends ... after supper i snapped a nice portrait of chuck ...

... today, after spending the morning substituting for robert in the bookstore, i took a little stroll around town ... this is the steeple of the first baptist church, built in 1829 ... its minister, samuel francis smith, wrote the lyrics to "america" ...

... down above the kennebec i stood upon the memorial bridge for almost thirty minutes watching the sea gulls catch their supper of tiny sprats ...

... if you recall, several weeks ago the water level was two or three feet above the boards at the top of the damn ... despite evening temperatures in the mid-50s, the low water in the river is a good sign summer is upon us ...

... walking back up into town i noticed an interesting play taking place between the leaves and the light from the evening sun ...

... overcast all day, the sky cleared for this summer dress ...

... quiet, perhaps a thunderstorm brewing up over the mountains ...