90th birthday lunch for AG: 4/15/2026
For the moment, I'm pretty much hiding this page from the general public.
2026-04-15: ~PHOTOGRAPHS~---poems---the other party---site navigation
We had lunch at DiMillo's on the Water in Portland, Maine. Our waiter, who took the big picture and who also cut the cake that Betsy brought, was Frankie.
Roger, Peter, Ron, AG, Betsy, Lucy, Evan, Ben, Ming
Ron, AG, Betsy, Lucy....AG blew out the candles in three breaths.
2026-04-15: photographs---~POEMS~---the other party---site navigation
Poems for the party, because AG had fond memories of poetry at a Daddy Green birthday in the 1940's.
(Betsy transcribed them, mostly. I've used her commentary, with a few changes.)
Lucy adapted a poem that first appeared in the Fernbank News.
SWEET WITH HAY - July 31, 1927
Alma Stokey, sweet with hay,
Rakes the algae every day.
Just look out your bedroom winders
Where she hides it in the cinders.
SWEET WITH HAY - April 15, 2026
Alma Morrison, sweet with hay,
Walks her kitty every day.
Just look round the Canco halls
Where that solid feline prowls.
And waddles and sways and jiggles her tummy
Before she lurches back home with mummy.
Then while Alma phones a friend or relation
For some casual conversation,
The cat will settle down to sleep -
Or wake up sometimes for to keep
An eye on birds outside the winders
Where Alma hides stuff in the cinders -
No, that's not right. Wrong Alma there.
Wrong poem too - well, I don't care.
Then Ron and Roger read their poems, which remembered some of the wonderful times the Morrisons and Stokeys have had together over the years.
Ron’s poem
River Trips in the North Maine Woods
On north woods rivers, by canoe
We floated flat water, or maybe class two.
Sometimes AG paddled in the bow--
Here comes a rock! Draw stroke! Right now!
When in the stern she pulled, with force
A strong jay stroke, to stay on course.
Aiming for that downstream vee
Zipped through—well done! Yippee!
Late afternoon, we pitched our camps,
Sipped wine, made supper, lit the lamps,
Cleaned up—t’was night and hard to see.
Thank goodness for the L.E.D.
Chilly morning—coffee’s good.
Betsy cooked as Fred sawed wood.
Berry pancakes on the way
Loaded with blues picked yesterday.
We packed our dry bags, put on a wet shoe
Rolled our sleeping pads, used the loo.
Back on the water for another day in Maine
Hoping for sunshine, ready for rain.
Morrisons and Stokeys and in-laws made the group
On the Allagash or Penobscot or the Moose River loop.
Dark night skies showed a glowing Big Dipper
We loved to go with AG, and Ray, and their red Tripper.
Roger’s poems
Back story: on the morning of April 15th, after hearing that that poem was in the works, shameless Lucy had emailed Roger:
“Ron says he has written some verses for AG about canoe trips. I still hope you’ll write something or other. I figure that in the good old Christmas tradition, you’ll write it in the car on the way to Portland, while Andrea drives.”
As it turned out, Andrea didn’t come. Roger had to drive himself. Two of his 3 poems were indeed scrawled as he drove.
Roger Poem #1
Lucy wants a poem, an A.G. birthday ditty
Something much inspired, or even a bit witty
10 decades has its perks, A.G., but only just a bitty
So I’m on the road to Portland, a visit to the city
Now panicked trying to find a verse, down to the last minity
Got nothing here but drivel, “oh bother” what a pity
So happy birthday A.G., phew it’s done! I guess I’ll quitty
The reviews are in, my poem a smash? Oh dear, they thought it sh----
Roger Poem #2
From Cataumet I traveled by car
In fact up to Portland (quite far)
I ate a few dishes
Gave A.G. birthday wishes
Via limerick even further sub par
Roger Poem #3
Roger claims it was written not while driving but in the parking lot of the restaurant.
I remember a church from time long before
A wedding where Lucy threw up on the floor
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Christmas in Wayland with boys one through four
With presents and wrapping strewn on the floor
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
A race in the Pearson on Scituate’s shore
It was an all nighter of that I am sure
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Picnics at Glady’s with swordfish galore
With Erna and Eva and Alma and more
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Tag with a flashlight at Scraggy outdoor
Are you it? No you are. Just to settle a score
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Important note from Lucy: I did not throw up on the floor, but rather in the church pew, and I said so.
Roger says:
A couple of points:
I knew Lucy threw up on the cushion. As she said, I took “poetic liberties”. I was also curious if Betsy, Ming, or Lucy would remember that discrepancy. AG had her back to us and was otherwise distracted.
Clarification. First two were written prior to leaving for Portland, once I realized Andrea wasn’t going to bail me out by driving. I did retain Lucy’s “theme”, however. Had to meet expectations and all. The last one was mentally written on the way, then hastily scribbled down after parking across from DiMillo’s.
My additional note:
I didn't want to belabor the point, so I let it go. But Betsy was sitting right next to me at the wedding (AG's wedding, in January 1961), so obviously she would know where I threw up. And Grandma mentioned afterwards that it taken her forever to get the smell out of the pew. (After all, the problem could not be addressed right away.) So, even though I don't actually remember throwing up, I know where it was that I threw up.
(Betsy transcribed them, mostly. I've used her commentary, with a few changes.)
Lucy adapted a poem that first appeared in the Fernbank News.
SWEET WITH HAY - July 31, 1927
Alma Stokey, sweet with hay,
Rakes the algae every day.
Just look out your bedroom winders
Where she hides it in the cinders.
SWEET WITH HAY - April 15, 2026
Alma Morrison, sweet with hay,
Walks her kitty every day.
Just look round the Canco halls
Where that solid feline prowls.
And waddles and sways and jiggles her tummy
Before she lurches back home with mummy.
Then while Alma phones a friend or relation
For some casual conversation,
The cat will settle down to sleep -
Or wake up sometimes for to keep
An eye on birds outside the winders
Where Alma hides stuff in the cinders -
No, that's not right. Wrong Alma there.
Wrong poem too - well, I don't care.
Then Ron and Roger read their poems, which remembered some of the wonderful times the Morrisons and Stokeys have had together over the years.
Ron’s poem
River Trips in the North Maine Woods
On north woods rivers, by canoe
We floated flat water, or maybe class two.
Sometimes AG paddled in the bow--
Here comes a rock! Draw stroke! Right now!
When in the stern she pulled, with force
A strong jay stroke, to stay on course.
Aiming for that downstream vee
Zipped through—well done! Yippee!
Late afternoon, we pitched our camps,
Sipped wine, made supper, lit the lamps,
Cleaned up—t’was night and hard to see.
Thank goodness for the L.E.D.
Chilly morning—coffee’s good.
Betsy cooked as Fred sawed wood.
Berry pancakes on the way
Loaded with blues picked yesterday.
We packed our dry bags, put on a wet shoe
Rolled our sleeping pads, used the loo.
Back on the water for another day in Maine
Hoping for sunshine, ready for rain.
Morrisons and Stokeys and in-laws made the group
On the Allagash or Penobscot or the Moose River loop.
Dark night skies showed a glowing Big Dipper
We loved to go with AG, and Ray, and their red Tripper.
Roger’s poems
Back story: on the morning of April 15th, after hearing that that poem was in the works, shameless Lucy had emailed Roger:
“Ron says he has written some verses for AG about canoe trips. I still hope you’ll write something or other. I figure that in the good old Christmas tradition, you’ll write it in the car on the way to Portland, while Andrea drives.”
As it turned out, Andrea didn’t come. Roger had to drive himself. Two of his 3 poems were indeed scrawled as he drove.
Roger Poem #1
Lucy wants a poem, an A.G. birthday ditty
Something much inspired, or even a bit witty
10 decades has its perks, A.G., but only just a bitty
So I’m on the road to Portland, a visit to the city
Now panicked trying to find a verse, down to the last minity
Got nothing here but drivel, “oh bother” what a pity
So happy birthday A.G., phew it’s done! I guess I’ll quitty
The reviews are in, my poem a smash? Oh dear, they thought it sh----
Roger Poem #2
From Cataumet I traveled by car
In fact up to Portland (quite far)
I ate a few dishes
Gave A.G. birthday wishes
Via limerick even further sub par
Roger Poem #3
Roger claims it was written not while driving but in the parking lot of the restaurant.
I remember a church from time long before
A wedding where Lucy threw up on the floor
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Christmas in Wayland with boys one through four
With presents and wrapping strewn on the floor
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
A race in the Pearson on Scituate’s shore
It was an all nighter of that I am sure
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Picnics at Glady’s with swordfish galore
With Erna and Eva and Alma and more
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Tag with a flashlight at Scraggy outdoor
Are you it? No you are. Just to settle a score
Oh for the chance to go back there once more
Important note from Lucy: I did not throw up on the floor, but rather in the church pew, and I said so.
Roger says:
A couple of points:
I knew Lucy threw up on the cushion. As she said, I took “poetic liberties”. I was also curious if Betsy, Ming, or Lucy would remember that discrepancy. AG had her back to us and was otherwise distracted.
Clarification. First two were written prior to leaving for Portland, once I realized Andrea wasn’t going to bail me out by driving. I did retain Lucy’s “theme”, however. Had to meet expectations and all. The last one was mentally written on the way, then hastily scribbled down after parking across from DiMillo’s.
My additional note:
I didn't want to belabor the point, so I let it go. But Betsy was sitting right next to me at the wedding (AG's wedding, in January 1961), so obviously she would know where I threw up. And Grandma mentioned afterwards that it taken her forever to get the smell out of the pew. (After all, the problem could not be addressed right away.) So, even though I don't actually remember throwing up, I know where it was that I threw up.
2026-04-15: photographs---poems---~THE OTHER PARTY~---site navigation
There was a big party later, at Alan & Karen's on April 25, 2026, with lots of Morrisons an also a Hosking cousin.
The birthday cake was made to look like a lighthouse. Ming took this picture.
The birthday cake was made to look like a lighthouse. Ming took this picture.
2026-04-15: photographs---poems---the other party---~SITE NAVIGATION~-
WHERE AM I?
It is not part of the general lineup of pages in the website.
It is not part of the general lineup of pages in the website.