Lizzie Bourne

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Poem: "Oh, The Mountain Maid, New Hampshire," by Edna Dean Proctor

O goodly realm! said Captain Smith
When he told the story in London streets,
And again to court and prince and king;
And in sixteen hundred and twenty-three,
For Dover meadows and Portsmouth river,
Bold and earnest they crossed the sea,

And the realm was theirs and ours forever.
Up from the floods of Piscataqua,
Slowly, slowly they made their way
Back to the Merrimack's eager tide,
Poured through its meadows rich and wide;
And to Winnipesaukee's tranquil sea,
Bosomed in hills and bright with isles.
Up and on to the mountains piled,
Peak o'er peak, in the northern air,
Where the Great Stone Face looms changeless calm;
They labored and longed through the dawning grey and fair,
For the blessed break of the larger day.
Land of fame and of high endeavor,
Strength and glory be thine forever!

from: Family records of the branches of Hanaford, Thompson, Huckins, Prescott, Smith, Neal, Haley, Lock, Swift, Plumer, Leavitt, Wilson, Green, and allied families, by Mary E. Neal Hanaford; Rockford IL, 1915, page 60.

See article about New Hampshire-born poet, Edna Dean Proctor's life and her family tree.

Posted in New Hampshire Women, Poetry | 1 Comment

Fast Day Resolution

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Blogging From A Dangerous Desk

“A desk is a dangerous place from which to watch the world,” it has been written.*

I've been asked to share a photograph of my workspace by Colleen at “The Oracle of OMcHodoy.” She wrote an article about her extensive photograph scanning and archiving accomplishments.  I, meanwhile, can only drool over her neatness (subliminal: where did I put my bib?) and daydream that I too may someday have such a spotless desk and work area.

I blink, and I am knocked clean out of my daydream. The reality of where I compute on a daily basis quickly sets in.  Oh, my work space IS technically clean.  (subliminal: No food or drink allowed. I wouldn't want anything strange to grow on my keyboard). Neat, however, it is not.  

You wouldn't know by looking at my desk that I'm a huge fan of “How Clean is Your House?”  I sigh wistfully at Kim and Aggie's lovely accents, zippy personalities and breathtaking scrubbing talents. 

Perhaps my computer desk is possessed. Piles seem to spontaneously sprout from the top of the desktop, and from other nearby surfaces.  To my own credit, I have a vague idea of the types of documents, photographs and books in each of them.

My desk IS indeed a dangerous place from which to watch the world.  (subliminal: You never know when something is going to fall over and knock me out).  If you don't hear from me for a few days, now you will know what happened.

I can make excuses until doomsday about my desk's condition. (subliminal: and at this rate it would take as long to neaten things up).  And so, instead of posting a photograph of my own desk, I have posted a photograph of a workspace that is neater than mine.   Look at the photograph at the top of this article, and you get a general idea of what mine looks like.

And to whom does that workspace belong?  Click here to see a larger version of the photograph, and to find out, before you read further.

There.  Now I'm feeling very superior about this “clean desk” business.  Mine is not and it never will be.  And that is just fine with me.

Janice

*Note: The quotation in the first sentence is from the book “The Honourable Schoolboy,” by John LeCarre.

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BJ McQuaid

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