quiltersmuse.com Blog

In Spanish, there is a saying that goes like this: Before you die, you must do three things – plant a tree, have a baby, and write a book. I have always liked this thought, and furthermore, it makes a lot of sense. I can happily say that I fulfilled ALL the “requirements,” a long time ago. That is not to say that I will never plant another tree, or write another book. My “baby” is in his thirties and I will never have another. We take what is allotted to us in life, and I was meant to mother only one child. That’s ok.

The Spanish saying mentions writing a book. Many people write books, some about obscure topics. Who would think that an entire book would be devoted to “Ferns and Fern Allies of New Hampshire”? The diversity of people’s interests never cease to amaze me! We all have a passion for something. What’s yours?

My mother collected cookbooks and crossword puzzle books. My father gathered books about literature, poetry, religion, public speaking, politics, money management, and how to improve one’s memory.

Whether we realize it or not, we are all experts about something whether that be car maintenance, how to tend a garden, or the care and nurturing of a child … the field for potential book subjects is unlimited.

If you are not currently in the mood to write a book, do more reading and study, and thinking. Perhaps, you’ve done something, like served in a war, that was a unique experience, or at least unique as seen from your perspective. Before you think of crossing to the other side, write that book!

Anyone can plant a tree, and in fact, little spruce trees are often given away at certain shops on Arbor Day. Not everyone is cut out to be a parent, and all it takes is a quick trip to your local department store to figure out that it would have been better, had someone skipped that part of the equation. However, for many people, writing a book is possible, and could even be therapeutic and cathartic, or at the very least, instructive.

Three little things: plant a tree, have a child (or nurture one), and write a book. Having done all that during what seems a lifetime ago, I think I’ll just mosey off now to take a “siesta.”

Patricia Cummings

When I was a child, living on the farm, we usually traveled the “new” turnpike into Manchester, about 13 miles away, to food shop. There, my mother would buy groceries, lingering with the “meat man” to discuss the freshness of the swordfish or the lamb roast. To make sure the hamburger was fresh, she ask that a roast be ground. Grocery shopping was an outing and a chance for her to “discuss” food. She often got into a debate about whether a sweet potato was really a sweet potato, or if it was a yam, and she claimed to know the difference, being from the South and all.

At a tender age, I had to be transported by bus to the high school I attended, also in Manchester. So, come rain, hail, sleet, or snow, I’d walk about a mile, past a few farms in the wee hours of morning light … in a mini-skirt, no less. Yes, those were the 1960s and minis were in. I sewed a few myself from wool yardage, but they being short … well, say no more! It’s a wonder my knees weren’t permanently frozen solid.

Today, I am thinking about all the open space we once had in New Hampshire. On my morning walk, I’d be greeted by guinea hens, chickens, a friendly goat, and not-so-friendly “watch” geese, and I’d see steers in the field. Back home, I’d leave behind three cows, two horses, chickens, feisty roosters, “barn” cats, and a rabbit, when I trudged down the road with my heavy book bag.

To drive past those same places today is a bit of a shock. There are no farms. However, there ARE houses, houses that have been plunked into the middle of subdivided fields. On the back field, our family farm now sports a new mini-mansion with a surround porch and a four car garage in the field where I once rode my horse, “Montana Red.”

Now, the neighborhood is a microcosm of what has repeatedly happened in my home state. There are few farmers left that grow food, or sell milk. Why, not too long ago, there was talk of taking over an apple orchard to turn it into a development. The people of Concord rose to the occasion and “saved” the orchard.

I believe that high tech this, and high tech that, is fine. Technology promotes innovation and in many ways, makes life a lot easier. I wouldn’t trade our microwave for all the tea in China. However, while we are attempting to improve our I-pods, and make even faster computers, I think we should begin to imagine what life might be like without food.

Traditionally, farmers provided food. The world is in trouble. There are far more pollutants finding their way into food sources. Alarmists have been ringing their bells about the pending consequences of a decreasing oversight concerning food production. We are now turning corn into ethanol, which to some who have thought about the subject, seems obscene. I agree, when so many of the world’s poor are hungry.

In many ways, I am happy that I lived at a time when life itself seemed to make more sense. Today, tearing down all the trees, and converting farm land to big house lots for “country homes,” does not jibe the the reality of our need to conserve. Conservation should be our watchword, if not for ourselves, then for the birds and wildlife and every living entity that shares our planet Earth. “She” has been abundant and giving, but even the best drink of water reaches an end and the glass become empty.

What has made New Hampshire beautiful in the past has been its natural areas, rugged spaces, and yes, it’s farms. We always welcome tourists, but lately, we hope to welcome them and send them back to where they came from, before they develop a thought of moving here.

As too many cooks spoil the broth, too many people spoil my home state. So, if you’d like to ski, to swim, or hike, or visit the Museums here, please find your way to the Granite State. We will be cordial and we will be happy to accept your tourist dollars. New Hampshire is a great state and we’d like to retain some of its natural flavor cultivated by the local characters who are the states’ own sons and daughters. New Hampshire has much to offer, as does the place to which you will return.

Patricia Cummings