We learned many years ago to pay attention to the weather in far-flung places, that and if the earth was moving in nasty ways. I don’t think we even touched on the man-made horrors that the cables call “breaking news”; at any rate we never verbalized those fears to each other. Our sons were on the move in those days, trying out their wings in those far away places.

Then one by one they came back, settled down close to home, and began having kids – seven to date with little Nora born this past spring. Our oldest, however, still has some adventures left in him; he’s why I began getting texts and phone calls from friends over the weekend: “big earthquake in Bali!”

Bali?

Yes, Bill has taken a job in Bali, an Indonesian island that is about as far from Lincolnville, Maine, as you can get. He, along with his wife and three of their children have moved to what looks like – on a Facetime call –paradise. Then over the week-end came a text: “We just had a decent size earthquake here. We’re all ok and we’re going to sleep now- we wanted to let you know just in case it’s on the news.”

Back here, on the other side of the planet, we’ve only got heat and beastly humidity to deal with this summer, but as I’ve learned these past couple of years, no matter how miniscule in comparison to somebody else’s truly horrific problems they may seem, they’re still yours to deal with.

My tame couple of acres at the top of Sleepy Hollow are getting away from me. Everything’s growing like weeds, especially, of course, the weeds.

“It’s a jungle out there,” I told myself, just before remembering Bill’s online conversation last month with a Bali colleague he’d yet to meet.

“Sorry! I’ve got to go,” the guy suddenly shouted. “There’s a monkey in the kitchen!”

All right, Sleepy Hollow hasn’t turned into that kind of a jungle, though I did spot a young coyote streaking across the road the other morning. It’s just that stuff is growing faster than I can cut it down.

Apparently, it has a lot to do with my missing husband. Somehow, all the grass around here, which always seemed to be so neatly trimmed, didn’t do that on its own. How could I have missed such an elemental fact of nature? It’s dawning on me: Wally spent a good part of every summer pushing the mower through these wannabe hayfields.

As I’ve told myself so many times we each do this thing in our own way, “this thing” being widowhood. Mine has been to work most days literally from dawn until I’m worn out, never really thinking it through, just plowing ahead.

So building and tending a complicated garden, complete with grassy paths and raised beds was just one more task to keep me busy, along with overseeing a complete renovation of most of my house, relocating nearly half a century of accumulated stuff, all the while forming a new relationship. It hasn’t left a lot of time for reflection, for remembering.

It’s really come as a surprise that I can’t keep the grass mowed.

I give myself the usual excuses: pull cord on the mower broken, grass too wet in the morning, then too hot to mow in the afternoon, doing dump runs, laundry, cleaning out the fridge. Yet somehow my husband found the time, and then did it.

Letting go. Those of us in this club (yes, widows do talk about being in a club, one they never wanted to join) know about letting go. First off we’ve got to let go of the death and dying thoughts, the ones that torment us. Watching the love of your life, your lifelong companion, your best friend fade away before your eyes, or perhaps worse, die suddenly, is a trauma hard to dispel, but until we can the pain of that event remains fresh.

We have to let go of habits long held – rituals around the end of day, dinner and the news, maybe; waking up pillow talk; favorite TV shows, restaurants, hikes, all the things we shared.

This Saturday, August 11, 7 to 10:30 a.m. the busy LIA (Lincolnville Improvement Association) members and their friends will once again put on their popular blueberry pancake breakfast at McLaughlin’s Lobster Shack. What a great way to start the week-end, sitting on the shore on a summer morning with a plate of blueberry pancakes, sausage and bacon, juice and coffee.

Tickets are $9 each for adults, $5 for children under 8; if you buy your tickets from an LIA member in advance they’re $1 less. A popular feature of the day is the raffle which this year has gift certificates from the following businesses:

Inn at Ocean’s Edge

Bay Leaf Cottages and Bistro

Chez Michel

Lobster Pound

Whales Tooth Pub

Youngtown Inn

Copper Pine

Dot’s

Beyond the Sea

 Proceeds from the Wing Ding go towards the LIA’s scholarship fund for graduating Lincolnville high school students.

Library

The Knitting Workshop will be this Tuesday, Aug. 7, 4-6 p.m. Learn how to knit or how to knit better.  And while you’re at it, make some new friends.  Experienced and patient knitters will be on hand to guide and teach.  Knitting Workshop is offered every first Tuesday of the month at the library.  Needlework/Knitting nights are the second and fourth Tuesdays.   All are free and open to everyone.

 The Writers’ Group meets Friday, Aug. 10 at 9 a.m. with Sheila Polson.  This group gathers the second and fourth Fridays of every month to share and review their individual writing projects and to discuss the craft of the writing process. Newcomers always welcome.

The band will be playing at Breezemere Park next Tuesday, August 14, 7 p.m. at the bandstand. Bring a chair and some bug spray and enjoy the music on a summer evening.