“The poppies aren't blooming yet near the old cellar hole, though I know they must be up.  But for their bright orange blossoms that wave through the tall grass in June you'd never know there'd been a house there at all.  The poppies appear every spring near what was once some woman's door.  I remember the house – it burned down more than ten years ago –  and its last occupants, can still see the young daughter's pale face framed in the upstairs window one summer twilight, gazing out at the passing cars.  I always think of her whenever the poppies bloom, imagine her longing to be away, for whatever adventure lay down the road.  But the poppies had been there long before her family's brief tenancy.”

          I first wrote about those poppies a quarter century ago; I still watch for them every spring, and reliably they appear as soon as my late tulips drop their petals. The poppies in front of my house put on a show of their own at the same time, sprawling crookedly, as poppy stems do, all over the other perennials. Eye-popping orange poppies are big show offs.

          These poppies of my mine came from a friend, as so many of my plants did. They originally were growing in front of the house at 2453 Atlantic Highway, where Bald Rock Builders is located today. The Butterman family was living there in the 1970s and Judith dug up some of those poppies for me when I admired them.

         Perennial plants grow and bloom over the spring and summer, die back every autumn and winter, and then return in the spring from their root-stock. You can count on hardy perennials to reliably show themselves every spring. Isn’t that the definition of a good friend? Oh, not the dying back part, but let’s not quibble. I still like the comparison. This time of year gardeners make daily tours of their beds, checking in on this or that favorite to see if it’s back yet, if it survived the winter. Chances are, if you’re a gardener on any scale, you’re growing plants somebody shared with you.

         Here’s my spring inventory so far: The forsythia Myra Polan gave me sometime in the 1970s (she died in 1982) is in full bloom. A lot of snow seems to protect forsythia, as they bloom better after a snowy winter than an “open” one. Mine’s been growing defiantly in the gravel driveway since the day Myra gave it to me, in spite of her disapproval of the terrible spot I’d chosen. “It’ll never grow there,” she scolded. If it seems like I’ve run into a number of opinionated, out-spoken older women in my life (for example, last week’s Margaretta Thurlow story) I guess I have. I’ll even venture to suggest that there’s something about Maine rural life that attracts and even encourages the type. That leads me to think of the many thoughtful and quiet older men I’ve run into over the years here. I welcome comments, yay or nay.

         When her actor-husband, Lou, passed away suddenly in Freeport on a March trip from NYC to Lincolnville for town meeting, Myra arranged with the funeral home to have his ashes sent to her in Lincolnville. When they arrived, mailman George Rankin brought them in and sat with her a few minutes. She told me she appreciated that. After he left, she dug a hole and buried Lou’s ashes within sight of her kitchen door. One of my most enduring memories of my dear friend Myra was driving down North Chester Dean Road towards her house, the last one on the road, and seeing her, in flannel shirt and jeans, rake in hand, filling in the winter’s potholes.

         Hermeana “Hoppi” Graham was another one. Like Margaretta, Hoppi was the first woman to graduate, sometime in the 1930s, she from the University of Massachusetts with a degree in horticulture. She moved here in her 60s, to what was probably the oldest house in the area, just over the Lincolnville line in Northport, and began digging gardens in land long overgrown with brambles and alders. She had seedlings started in trays all over her house, visited nurseries and friends’ gardens for plants, and generally had dreams of extensive flower and vegetable beds that way outstripped her physical ability to carry out. That didn’t stop her, as she continually expanded her plantings every year, enlisting the help of family members when she could, doing it herself when she couldn’t.

         Hoppi lives on in my garden, invasively lives on, first with the creeping speedwell, a tiny-leaved ground cover with clear blue flowers that always makes me smile. It seemed to have disappeared for several years, but then re-appeared and is now vigorously covering large patches around the rocky paths I’ve built. But I also blame Hoppi for my nemisis: bishopsweed or goutweed, the terribly invasive plant that has spread along so many roadsides and untended places in town. Hoppi gave me a variegated variety, which she said wasn’t very vigorous and wouldn’t get out of hand. No sooner had she said that than the damn thing lost its mottled white and green varigation, turned totally green, and totally evil. I won’t waste any more words on it here. I’ve heard of avid gardeners who sold their houses when goutweed appeared. To be sure, evil goutweed was sneaking into my garden from all directions even as I took Hoppi’s gift of the “good” variety, and it was only a matter of time before it would snake around the roots of every other perennial in its path. See. I can’t stop talking about the stuff.

         After Hoppi died in 1995, MBNA bought her property; her long, narrow acreage was surrounded on three sides by what was to become Point Lookout. We, her friends and family, held an impromptu memorial gathering in her gardens, and we all brought shovels. We could see the handwriting on the wall. Her dreams of lush gardens surrounding that wonderful 1780s Cape would only live on in the gardens of her friends. We dug up everything we could; I got roots of her Elizabeth grapes, which to this day provide gallons of juice and jars of jelly every year. Within a few weeks the house had been knocked flat and carried away; Ginley Hall stands there today.

         Finally, I’m growing a plant from a woman I never met, but I’ve reason to believe she was of the same tribe as the others. Helen Higgins Dickey Butler was her name, and she lived where the poppies come up every spring. Head south on Atlantic Highway, around the bend from the Black Horse Inn, and you come to a property with a large barn that’s imploding before our eyes. That was the Butler farm, home of Helen and Benjamin Butler, later belonged to Annie Munroe Allen who rented it out. The last family to live in the house, before it burned in the 1970s, included the young girl dreaming at the window.

         Queen of the Prairie was growing in the roadside ditch there, and because I admired it, Wally stopped and pulled up a piece of it one day. This plant comes up every spring, grows over six feet tall, and flowers with pink plumes that look exactly like cotton candy. So who was Helen Butler, whom I presume grew this wonderful plant in her garden? Born in 1859, probably on today’s Greenacre Road, she grew up, taught school in town, married James Dickey in 1873, was widowed three years later, attended Westbrook Seminary in Westbrook (supposedly the first co-ed college in the country), came back to teach here and probably in Belfast, married Ben Butler at the age of 34 and lived out her life with him at his farm on Atlantic Highway, overlooking Penobscot Bay. She died, childless, in 1927. He died a few years later, leaving his farm to Will Munroe who lived down the road.

         Thanks to Holmes Greenhouse in Belfast, the Lincolnville Library’s Memorial Day plant sale will have red, white and pink geraniums available,  for $4 each to benefit the Library. The geraniums must be ordered and paid for by May 14. Get order forms from the library or from Barb Biscone, 763-3290. Plants can be picked up on Friday, May 22 between 4 and 6:30 p.m. or at the plant sale, Monday, May 25.

Eighth Grade Transitions

Our LCS eighth graders will join all the other eighth graders from the Five Towns (Appleton, Camden, Hope, Lincolnville, Rockport) at Camden Hills State Park on Friday, May 15 for a day of activities in their assigned high school home rooms, ending with a barbecue picnic. This sounds like such a great way to introduce students in each town to their new classmates. This is the first of many high school transition activities.

Indoor Flea Market

All are invited to come make wind catchers with Julie Turkevich on Saturday, May 16 from 10 a.m. to noon at the Lincolnville Community Library. There will be markers and embellishments along with ribbon, yarn and fabric strips to create these colorful wind catchers to put in the yard or garden. The program is free and all materials will be provided. This is a wonderful way to spend an hour or two with your kids or grandkids. Adults who accompany the children usually end up making the project too! For more information, call 763-4343 or email.

Mair Honan and These Hands

Mair Honan, formerly of Lincolnville and now pastor of Grace Street Ministry, will be guest speaker at United Christian Church this coming Sunday, May 17, 9:30 a.m. Grace Street is a street ministry for the homeless and marginalized people in Portland, and Lincolnville’s UCC is an ongoing supporter of it. That afternoon, in the Community Building from 3-4:15 p.m., Portland photographer Jane Fairbrother will have an exhibition of her photos, taken while on daily rounds with Pastor Mair. These photos and their stories have been compiled in the book These Hands.

Spring Presentations and Concerts

         This month’s Presentation and Concert at the Library, May 20, 7 p.m. sharp, will feature author Jim Nichols, winner of several prose and fiction awards. His collection Slow Monkeys and Other Stories  was published in 2003, and his novel Hull Creek in 2011. A new novel, Closer All the Time,  is being published this spring. Jim lives in Warren with his wife, a couple of dogs, bees and much wildlife.

         The music half of the program is Freshly Cut Grass, one of Maine’s finest bluegrass bands, with a hometown flavor. They’ve performed all over the northeast, bringing a beat that makes people jump up and dance or tap their feet.” Band members come from Bangor to Palermo. Rosey says, “This group is sure to have the pages in the books at the Library just a flyin’!” These monthly programs, organized by Rosey Gerry, are always interesting and a lot of fun. Tickets are $10 and all proceeds benefit the Library. Call Rosey to reserve yours – 975-5432.

A Smorgasbord

The Lincolnville Bulletin Board can be described as a smorgasbord,  in that you never know what will turn up there, but you can count on a variety --  of posts that is. One regular poster is Tom Crowley, resident of Lincolnville Beach, and, as we’ve come to expect, a man with a poem for any occasion. The other day, though, it wasn’t a poem, but a lovely sentiment that, I imagine, resonated with many of us:

         “My wife and I are, like many of you, in full spring/summer work mode at the house.  We usually end up working at different ends of the house or far different parts. This week I have been way up, deep in the attic and she has been outside working on all the old windows again.  Around 4:30 - 5 pm we stop, clean up a little, and enjoy "the remains of the day" outside with a glass of wine.  On some days, we even stop for lunch.  We are dirty, tired, but happy to be sharing and liking the same things. So, naturally, I had to write something..

Cold Soup

 He set out two plates, forks, knives, napkins and spoons even though she always made a fuss. “We don’t need all that. I just made soup.”  He would smile and sit down and they would eat together quietly at first and then the conversation would begin. “I have to finish those windows before it rains, I left them outside”.

He stared at her spot at the table for a long time until the phone rang. “Dad, it’s time to go. Are you ready?”  “I just have to finish my soup”  “Dad.  We will be late at the church” “Really?  It’s already too late”.  “I’m coming over now and we can pick out a nice dress that Mom would like…would have liked”. “Why? She never wore dresses. Besides, we haven’t finished our soup.”         

“Lets give thanks every day for who we are and who we have to share life with.”

Community Birthday Calendar 

If you have last year’s Birthday Calendar, you’ll find an order form on the back for next year’s. Calendars are $10 each and listings are $.50 apiece. If you didn’t save “April”, you can just send in your order saying “same as last year” or “with these changes.....” and a check for the amount to Lincolnville Historical Society, P.O. Box 204, Lincolnville 04849. There are spaces for business ads available this year. Each ad is $58, and gives you a space about 1 1/2 x 1 1/2 inches on the background of the calendar. It’s a great way to put your business name and phone number in front of many townspeople. Contact Connie Parker, 789-5984 or email her, if you’d like to order for the first time or with any other questions.

Jim Brown

Longtime Lincolnville business owner Jim Brown, founder of Windsor Chairmakers, passed away last week after a long illness. Not only were Jim’s workshop and  showrooms a fascinating place for tourists and townspeople alike, Windsor Chairmakers employed many local people over the years, building furniture in the productive building on Atlantic Highway. Much sympathy to Jim’s friends, workers, and family. A memorial service is scheduled for 1 p.m., May 29, at the Rockport Opera House.