One Year On

I am not surprised that we are having a hurricane today because it is the anniversary of my father’s death one year ago. He was a force of nature. Some considered him a hurricane personified.

It has been some year without him. I am proud of how well my Mom has done. She made the decision to move into Croasdaile Village. She has gotten an apartment, but she is really easing her way in. When I called her this morning she says she has met many nice people, but even that has not totally made her love moving, so she goes back and forth between her house and the new apartment.

Mom is an excellent duplicate bridge player and needs to find a partner to go with her to the bridge center and play. Unfortunately the duplicate at Croasdaile is at night, not when she is up for bridge. I think if she can get some bridge going in Durham she will be happy as can be.

Carter texted me to see how I was doing today. I am at peace on this anniversary. My father was having so many annoying health problems his last few years. He was such a bad patient that I am relieved he went so fast and not in the hospital. I know that all hospitals and medical personal are also glad he was at home in his own bed because he was most like a category five hurricane when he was confined to a hospital.

I miss his sense of humor and wisdom, but I do not miss his temper, especially when it was focused at a doctor. It was just too hard for him to be smarter than everyone else in the room.

Be safe out there today. Stay out of the way of all hurricanes, be they wind and water or the personified kind.

Too Many Snacks

Today was a big full day of Mountain Mah Jongg camp. I loved this schedule of teaching new players Mah Jongg in basically a day and a half. It proved to successful as almost every student was able to pick their own hands and play to the completion of the game today.

The Roaring Gap club was a most fabulous venue for the lessons. Since it is the end of the season the club was very quiet. We had the run of the bar which was the perfect place for the lessons. When we arrived in the morning there were cookies and snacks Along with a huge variety of drinks, and this was just after breakfast.

I got right to teaching every last rule before the four tables of students got to play their first game. We had randomly grouped players together. At each table there was one person who won more than others. So after lunch we put all the winners at one table to see how they could do against each other. It was quiet impressive that two women each won four games.

After the morning session we took a break for what was advertised as a light lunch. Anything but. We had tacos that were served in three taco bundles as well as a beautiful salad bar.

It was right back to playing after lunch, but the snacks kept coming. The last over the top offering, was a cheese platter for each person. Each platter was enough for one table, but then each table got four. I am happy I was busy going from table to table advising players on their best options. I certainly did not need a cheese platter.

The camp ended after five and the wonderful women I had gotten to enjoy the last two days helped me pack up the games and take them to the car. There is already talk for a spring camp for the next class. I can’t wait, but we need to request fewer snacks.

Get Back To Work!

After a decadent month off in Maine I finally had to get back to work. Not that teaching Mah Jongg is a hardship job, but the backlog of people wanting to learn was growing ever greater. Today was the first of my fall semester of the fifteen classes that are already on the calendar and this class is setting a high bar for being fun for me.

If this class had a title it would be “Mountain Mah Jongg Camp” and is my first time teaching in Roaring Gap. I hope it is not my last time. One of my beach students, Tracey, approached me this summer to see if I would consider teaching a group at Roaring Gap. My response was, “As long as I have a place to stay.”

For the record, I did not say, “As long as I have a fabulous place to stay, with a generous hostess, a fabulous club to teach in, yummy lunch, brilliant and fun students, a celebration worthy dinner, and the most comfortable bed ever,” but that is what I got.

I arrived on the mountain before lunch after the familiar drive up from Durham. Carter spent eleven years at camp cheerio here so driving up felt like coming home. I met my cute hostess, Ellen, at her gorgeous house. She had expertly organized the whole event so I just get to breeze in and teach.

We went to the golf club and had lunch before everyone else started to arrive. Originally the class was going to be 16, but due to Hurricane Ian we had an extra refugee from Florida who joined us. Our first lesson was this afternoon and so far they are all A students.

There are six of us staying at Ellen’s so the party does not stop between lessons. After a few drinks at home we returned to the club to have dinner. It was delightful to get to know these women personally rather than just teach them.

Now I have to try and turn my extrovert brain off so I can sleep enough to be an effective teacher tomorrow. This has been a most excellent way to get back to work. Being a Mah Jongg teacher is the best job when you have students like mine.

In Trouble Now

Two of my big game playing friends, Lee and Shelayne could not believe that I had never played Canasta. They thought it was time I learned. Lee had us over for lunch with another friends Susan to teach me. We played as partners and Lee was my Partner and Susan and Shelayne made of the S squared team.

It didn’t take long for me to grasp the rules. Just long enough for Lee and I to take the first game. Shelayne said that the tender teaching gloves were off and we played a second round and S Squared won. I can see that I am quickly becoming addicted to this game. I came right home and downloaded a computer version on my iPad.

I have no idea about strategy yet, as I barley have the mechanics down. Lee and Shelayne are ready to play with me again since they know they can beat me at Canasta better than Mah Jongg.

Loving playing games is such a joy and a time suck for me. Thank goodness I m productive in teaching Mah Jongg, which is still the greatest game. I m not sure my mother plays Canasta, but I am going to have to teach her because I bet they play it where she has moved.

Thanks for the delicious lunch and the new Game, friends. I’m free next week to play!

Enduring Friendships

Four weeks in Maine this summer was hard to beat. I honestly was not ready to come home when our time was up. It was such an unplugged vacation with a relaxed rhythm that I really got used to. Usually I am ready to come home from vacation, but this was not like a vacation, but a life.

Today I went to a birthday celebration for a friend in my stitching group. We normally get together once a month, except during the summer, so this was my first chance to be with everyone. This made being home wonderful. I didn’t know I missed my friends as much as I did, because I had other friends in Maine.

One friend had been going through some health issues and I was sorry I was not around to help, but so glad to see her on her way to being herself. Another friend had suffered some back issues so we shared our love of PT. I learned who had gotten Covid over the summer. How empty nest is going for another. Heard about trips people have planned. Caught up on the issues people have with aging parents. These things aren’t shared over instagram, so being together is really the best way to support each other and celebrate each other.

It is a blessing to have a change of scenery, but only when you are with old friends do you realize how important enduring friendships are.

The US and The Holocaust

If you haven’t watched Ken Burn’s latest documentary, The US and the Holocaust, on PBS I highly recommend it. You can stream it on PBS.com.

I feel like I have studied quite a bit about the Holocaust. I read Anne Frank in elementary school, read Night by Ellie Wiesel in high school, taken a number of history courses on WWII, visited Holocaust museums from Germany, to DC to St. Petersburg, FL, watched endless movies and documentaries, and visited concentration camps in Eastern Europe. None of that gave me the same perspective as Burn’s work, that of the American perspective, while it was happening.

I knew that Americans were highly isolationist at the start of the war, but what struck me most is how similar the attitudes of Americans at the time mirror our times today. Immigration was considered a bad thing, refugees were not welcomed, there was a huge group led by Charles Lindbergh called America First, which was for isolationism and racism, even promoting the building of walls around America, people did not believe the news about the treatment of Jews and called it fake, fear of “the other” was rampant and those fires were stoked by some politicians.

It was almost as if a certain past American president had seen this documentary and said, let’s do all these same things again because I can create an empire out of stoking these fears.

What we have to fear is not speaking out about politicians who want to limit the rights, especially of women and minorities. If we don’t, things like the Holocaust happen again. Like in Ukraine as we speak. I had no idea that the word Genocide was created as a descriptor of the Holocaust and we have it happening right now by Putin.

A phrase in Burn’s documentary, “The structures of our civilized lives fall away very easily,” scared me the most. The striking down of Roe, and doing away with voting rights, are just the beginning of the stripping away of rights. If we don’t fight back the people who want to take away rights then we quickly find ourselves in a fascist world that is much harder to take back once the rights are gone.

Eleanor Roosevelt wrote at the time, “There is no compromise for the things we know are wrong.” We know that it is wrong to treat humans differently based on their race, sex, orientation, or beliefs, but people justify it, usually they say for a better economy or for trying to keep the status quo. Denying everyone equal rights does neither of those things. Our economy flourishes when everyone does better.

Please watch the US and the Holocaust and see the parallels between then and now. Allowing these kind of ideals to take hold in America is dooming us to repeat history we should have learned from.

Garden’s End

As we were in Maine for a month I gave up on trying to keep my garden going while I was gone. I harvested everything I could before we left, leaving dozens of cucumbers for friends to take.

When we got home I was not surprised to see that most everything was too far gone, with the exception of the peppers. Today Russ and I harvested what was left, four butternut squash, five tiny Yukon gold potatoes, a couple of green peppers and hundreds and hundreds of cayenne and lemon drop peppers.

Then we proceeded to pull everything out of the ground, the zucchini plant that had grown eight feet outside its bed, the okra plants that reached ten feet in the air with inedible pods eleven inches long, and tomatillos that finally produced hundreds of fruit.

I was amazed how much had actually survived and how much failed this year. The tomatoes were the greatest disappointment followed by the jalapeños, which were both big successes last year. Next year I only need to plant two cucumber plants and probably no cayenne as I will have plenty still left over from this year. Russ is thinking I can make Chili crisp. We shall see.

My two passion fruit vines flourished as plants, but gave no fruit this year. They are considered evergreens so we shall see if they survive the winter and produce anything next year.

I am considering putting a couple things in for fall, but as long as it is this dry I am holding off. No reason for fall heartbreak after summer.

Water’s Importance

Today in Durham it cruelly started to feel more like fall. Actually, it wasn’t so much fall as it was just not devil-heat summer. I didn’t get to wear a sweater, but at least I didn’t sweat through my undergarments out playing with Shay.

Now that the temperature is moderating, now can we just have a little rain. My lawn is crunchy which means that Shay brings plenty of it attached to her fur from rolling in the grass. This causes the need for lots more vacuuming. I will just have to put up with that since I will not be watering my brown grass.

Water is our most important resource and watering grass is the least critical use of it. It really makes me crazy when I drive by people’s house and their sprinkle system is running while it is raining. There needs to be a mandatory rain meter on all sprinkler systems.

I spoke to someone who runs their sprinkler everyday. When I pointed out that our city reservoirs are at historical low points their response was, “I can afford the water.” Talk about missing the point.

Please consider turning your sprinkler systems off at this point of the growing season. Grass may get browner, but as soon as it rains enough it will green back up.

Planning Ahead Dickinsonians

The year was 1979, Carter was in the White House, Three Mile Island was on everyone’s mind, no one was quite sure what was in a hotchee dog, and we didn’t know who Sharona was so instead we danced to Rosilita. If any of this is painting a very specific picture, you might have gone to Dickinson College with me. If you did, I liked you and probably still like you.

The years 1979-1983 were our years in Carlisle. As freshmen we knew it was Friday if it was raining when we woke up because it rained every Friday of the fall of 1979. We didn’t let the rain get us down. We gathered at the Morgan rocks and got to know each other.

Don’t blink, that was 44 years go. And no, you don’t look a year over 44 now, I just don’t remember going to college with any new borns. What this all means is that come June we are going to be having our 40th reunion. It is time to make plans to come back to Carlisle and see each other.

Here is the good news about our 40th reunion, all of us have gotten older at exactly the same rate, so no one cares if you look older. Reunions are not about comparing but instead about sharing. I want to share stories with you. I want to tell you what an impact you made on me while we were in school. I want to thank you for a kindness you might have paid to me that made a difference in my day, year, or life, that you didn’t even know you might have done. I want to laugh about all the fun we had.

Today a small group of wonderful friends joined a church Zoom to start planning our reunion. We all could not make the zoom, so be assured there are more people than just these faces who are working on the plans. The most important thing you can do now is put the date on your calendar, June 9 & 10, and find a place to stay. Remember, it’s Carlisle and there are only so many hotels you want to stay in.

I promise you will hear a lot more about this reunion in the coming months. It’s time to reconnect and get to know each other all over again.

Jim Ketch’s Jazz Class

I am the unmusical person in my family. My father was a wonderful singer ( he had Andy Griffith as a music teacher at UNC), my mother plays the piano beautifully, my sister Margaret was a paid gospel singer in an African American Church in Kansas City and my sister Janet could really play the Saxophone! Then there was me. I was just the musical appreciation society in the family.

I thought music education was important, despite never being offered any myself. Carter played the Clarinet in school. At least she learned to read music.

Tonight at our church we had a Jazz night. The Durham Jazz band came and played outside while we had dinner then after dinner we all went into the fellowship hall to hear a lecture my our own Jim Ketch, retired head of the Jazz dept. at UNC and renowned Jazz trumpeter.

I have always appreciated and loved Jim’s playing which he so wonderfully donates for big church days, like Easter, along with the other talented Westminster Brass players. This was the first time in the the 23 years I have known him that I got to hear an actual lecture on Jazz by him. It was an enthralling almost hour and a half, which felt like about twenty minutes, it was so interesting. He included the Blues and Gospel in the lecture, but there was hardly enough time to touch on such a huge subject.

While Jim was lecturing Russ leaned over to me and said, “one of the only non-engineering classes I took as an under grad was Jazz.” This was a new bit of information about Russ I had never known before. So I really am the only person in the family with no musical knowledge.

I was inspired by Jim and now I want to learn more. Just add Music appreciation to my growing list of things to learn before I die. At this rate I will live forever because my list of things to learn is so long.

The Good Volunteer

In my volunteer organization world there are three kinds of people; the one who volunteers without being asked, the one who says, “Yes,” when asked to volunteer and those who find any excuse possible not to volunteer. Yes, there are micro groups like those who say, “yes,” when they don’t mean it and then don’t show up, but this is not about the micro groups.

I want to send a shout out to the ones who volunteer willingly and the ones who say “Yes,” when asked. You all make life so much easier for everyone. Your generosity and willingness to serve makes you a person I love to know.

When Carter was little, her school needed parent volunteers for all kinds of activities. As a parent who did not work a nine to five job I was often available to volunteer, so I did. I had a number of good friends who worked full time, important jobs and they too volunteered, working these responsibilities into their schedules. Then there were the people who never volunteered. When I was a room parent I made sure to acknowledge that every parent was busy so it was important for everyone to find a way to contribute. If your work schedule was too tight you could volunteer for something that needed to be done in an evening or weekend. The message did not always get through to people and so some people would just argue, rather than volunteer. Those people were off my list forever.

If you are a busy person it is so much easier to be proactive and pick something to volunteer for than to wait and then be unable or unwilling to help. No one wants to be then person who everyone knows is the slacker.

Also if you volunteered once, many years ago that does not count forever. You have to do it again and again. It takes everyone to keep the world running. If more people volunteered regularly the world would be a much happier place.

The Last Farewell

I set my alarm for 5:45 so I could watch the Queen’s funeral. We lived in London during Diana’s funeral. As we were on the north side of Hyde Park we could smell the flowers, most in plastic sleeves that were left in huge mounds at the Palace. Thankfully the Palace learned it’s lessons from that and asked people not to leave plastic or paddington Bears for the queen.

No one does pageantry as well as the Brits, especially when they plan for it. This was a very well planned for celebration of life and you can bet the queen would have been pleased. The things that amaze me are how well they had the timing down. They knew exactly how long everything should take and exactly how fast everyone would have to walk and how many navel men it would take to pull the gun carriage.

As we watch it on TV it makes it all seem so simple, but it is anything but. Just consider how hard it is for people to move around in their uniforms. When we took Carter to London in 2014 we were lucky enough to stumble upon the Queen’s household regiment having their annual picture taken. Just watch this video of how difficult it was for them to get off the bleachers in those boots.

I watched almost six hours of the funeral and as far as I could see there was not a hair out of place. I did get a little nervous when those men were carrying her casket up the steps of St.George’s chapel. It would have been very bad if the crown fell off. I hope the queen was very secure inside that box.

The crowds were amazing, all along the fourteen mile route from Westminster to Windsor. I can’t think of any other human in my lifetime who could garner such an outpouring of love. Seventy years of service deserved every bit of love her country and the world showed the queen today.

Not Cool Enough Yet

We slept with the windows open most nights, but some nights we had two or three blankets on our bed. Eventually we even had to close the windows and have two blankets. It was crisp and refreshing to walk into the bathroom in the morning with a sweet breeze blowing the curtains open, just to go back and snuggle in bed afterward.

We purposely picked August and September to go to Maine to leave the dumpster dive of southern summertime. Maine was glorious. We had a house without air conditioning, but fans in all the rooms. We used the fans maybe four or five days in the four weeks we were there.

We thought we would miss the hellish nineties back home. Certainly by September 18 we should have bearable weather.

Last night Russ and I both woke up in the middle of the night because we were too hot, and the air conditioning was on. Today was not too hot, but we still mentioned to each other that we recognized the humidity level. Well, today was apparently a good day. Heat is returning in earnest here in Durham and it is supposed to be in the nineties for the next couple of days.

Thank goodness I don’t subscribe to no white after Labor Day. I may be wearing a white cotton dress tomorrow. I guess we didn’t stay in Maine long enough. Next year it might have to be Halloween, but then I will have to bring a down coat to Maine.

Home Again

The best thing I did before we left for Maine was thoroughly clean the house. I changed all the sheets, did all the laundry, scrubbed the kitchen. This made coming home from a month away a pleasure.

After a seventeen hour drive, split over two days I would have hated to come home to a mess. Instead I had the rest of my recovered living room chairs brought back and my dining room valances installed thanks to my friend and best decorator ever, Lane so the house looks finished.

It also helped not to come home to the mail since It is held until Monday. Before I left on the trip I did not know if I was coming straight home or who would drive with me. Of course I knew I had Shay, but Russ came with me which made it a much more fun drive. It was mostly fun for Shay because she and Russ sat limo style in the back while I was the chauffeur. We listened to podcasts to help pass the time.

Driving in September when kids are back in school is so much easier. It also helped that the HOV lanes south of Washington were going in our direction when we got there so we gladly paid to drive a good distance without much traffic. In fact the only traffic we encountered all the way from Maine was the twenty miles north of Fredericksburg, VA. Who know why this is always so bad, but it is.

For now I am not going to unpack anything, but just get reacquainted with our big bed and our room darkening shades. A few more hours of pretending I am still on vacation won’t hurt.

Life Changing Sunrise

I didn’t sleep well last night. Being our last night in Maine I was restless thinking about all I had to do to leave, and leave early we needed to do. Russ had a big day today, with zoom board meeting so he moved beds sometime in the night and did his usual working in the middle of the night routine.

I awoke alone before the light. I pushed up the blinds so I could watch the sunrise in all its glorious splendor. The best part of our house is the view from the bedroom as the sun comes up.

So I started documenting the different phases of the sunrise. At first it is just light that seeps into the dark blue sky, like a yellow ribbon wrapping the horizon. The land is still dark and the water was calm as the clouds hung like dark drapes in the sky. There is no sun yet, just light.

Then the yellow ribbon turns to orange, reflecting some of it’s light onto the water.

As the orange ribbon widens slightly the sky starts to turn a lighter shade of blue and the clouds turn from dark grey to cornflower.

Suddenly the clouds are awash in pink, orange and purple with their own drama going on in the sky, yet there is still no sun, just light.

After the best show you have ever seen the loud music starts to calm down a bit just as a tiny sliver of the sun breaks over the horizon.

As the sun begins it’s staring role the clouds retreat into a purple chorus, their pink and orange solo completed.

The orange ribbon widens to move of a tangerine as the sun is halfway up.

And then as she rises to a full ball her light is now effected on the water like a magic carpet leading your eye to her.

And then the show is over. The day has begun and you would never know the opera of the sunrise if you didn’t see it.

I realized that so much can happen in one hour. Once you witness all that the sun can do and change at a sunrise it makes me feel like I shouldn’t waste an hour. The difference in that one hour was life changing.

The Last Hurrah

One would think that four weeks in one devastatingly beautiful place, with all the comforts of home would be more than enough. It wasn’t. As I packed up all our stuff and cleaned the kitchen I was already missing our much easier life here in Maine.

To thoroughly enjoy our last day we walked the Breakwater. Shay would here nothing about being left home so we took her, unsure if it would be too hard for her. It wasn’t. She only lost footing one short second, and never fell through the cracks in the stones. It was a windy, but bright and sunny day and she motored on past dogs who heeded to be carried, having given up a mile into the walk.

There is no giving up on the breakwater. You walk more than a mile out to the light house and the only way back is to walk more than a mile back. I am sorry we didn’t take Shay sooner. Next year.

I am going to miss watching sail boats and lobster boats pass each other in front of our house. The different colors the sea takes on from grey green to diamond sparkling white as the sun reflects on the wind blown sea, to the dead calm blue have been our TV. The birds have been our ballet. The quiet has been relaxing, except for the fun sound of small planes landing at the Owl’s Head strip. Russ has taken to following flight tracker to guess who is possibly flying in from Bentonville, AR or Detroit, MI.

Tonight at dinner Russ said that this has been very restorative for him, even if he did work everyday. The chance to walk to the point everyday is so much better than walking on a tread mill.

I am going to miss waking in our bed with its huge picture window looking at the water reading a novel instead of watching the morning news. I hope that this is a new tradition.

Lobster’s eaten:19 (had one for dinner last night.)

Maine Lobster Report

Lobster is important in Maine. Many people’s livelihood depends on it, from the herring fishermen who catch the bait for lobster traps, to the people who maintain and fix boats, to the lobster people (not just men catch lobsters), to the people who run lobster pounds where lobsters are bought and sold, to the people who ship them and supply them to the world. I am not going to get into any controversy over lobstering because I am unsure of all the issues. What I am going to report on is my own personal, month long enjoyment of all things lobsters and rate each one.

For the record, I have never actually eaten a bad lobster. I have had some lobster stew or bisque that was too salty, but that was purely the hand of the chef and not the fault of the lobster.

My favorite way to enjoy lobster is a Maine style lobster roll, rather than Connecticut way. Maine style is a split topped hotdog roll, grilled in butter until toasted with the meat from a lobster with barley a touch of Hellman’s Mayonnaise. Connecticut style is the same set up without the mayo, but instead with hot butter to pour over the lobster. Really, who could argue with either way, but trust me plenty of people do.

Puritans want to eat a whole lobster, fresh from cooking and pick all the meat themselves. Between the bib and the lobster getting under my fingernails I prefer to just have the roll. I am also quite fond of lobster bisque, a soup with sherry, but usually not hunks of lobster, or lobster stew, a soup with hunks of lobster. Of all the ways we had lobster this month, lobster Mac and cheese was the least favorite, (although it was from a restaurant and not the recipe my sorority sister Janet gave me.)

This year’s best lobster discovery was a lobster grilled cheese. Since the only one we had was from Archie’s lobster on Mount Dessert Island I have comparison, but it was the top dog in all things lobster.

We ate lobster at many different places in Maine, staring in Kittery at Bob’s clam hut on my way up to Owls Head. Our house was not far from the Down East Magazine winner for best lobster roll, McLoon’s. They must do a good job begging people to vote for them because it was my least favorite. Nothing wrong, just a lobster roll. Now if I were in Durham and had McLoon’s nearby I would get a lobster roll any day, but here in Maine the competition is stiff.

After the Lobster grilled cheese at Archie’s, which is a two hour drive from our house, my second favorite lobster is the roll at Claws in Rockland. Claws has been our favorite shack for years and this year it seems their menu has exploded. The roll is still best, but I also enjoyed the lobster tacos.

Our family total for lobster dishes this year was 18. I did not count the lobster’s eaten by guests or friends we were dining with. I think I can say that I have had enough lobster to hold me until next summer, but I probably will want one last roll just before we cross the Maine border into New Hampshire on our drive home. Yes they have lobster rolls there as well as Massachusetts and Connecticut, but I am partial to Maine.

Time Is Too Short

We may have been in Maine almost four weeks, but it has gone so quickly. My friend Warren is mad that we have not done enough while we were here. What can I say, there is so much to do.

Today, while Russ was working away, Warren picked me up to go to Damariscotta to rendezvous with our friend Julie. Julie came up from Durham, Me where she lives with her husband. So Warren was out with his two Walker’s girls from Durham. We wandered the Main Street. I found lots of good Stocking stuffers, but nothing big. The space in my car is limited so I was mindful to not fall in love with a chair or a rug.

We ate lunch at a Thai restaurant where we were clearly the youngest patrons. September in Maine is all old people. I was fairly certain that the ancient old man sitting at the table next to us was listening to our conversation about how law makers think that they should try and have a say about the autonomy women can have over their own bodies. He seemed to huff a bit. I didn’t bring this to Warren’s of Julie’s attention, but I was ready to take him down if he commented. We could start a conversation about how old people should not have autonomy over their own bodies as well if they think law makers can dictate to women.

After lunch we went to a Hospital Thrift Store that Warren had been raving about. It is only open every other day of the week for four hours and that seemed to bring in the crowds. The ladies who run it do an excellent job merchandising everything . The funniest part about it is they change what is on sale everyday. Today all things Orange, all china and all pottery were 50% off.

I found a vintage covered square glass Pyrex casserole in a rare plaid pattern. It was priced high, but when I took it to the check out the manager gave me 25% off without my even asking. The place was huge and there were only a few creepy dolls on display. I always wonder who is buying them.

As a treat for being good thrifters Warren took Julie and I to Roundtop for ice cream. It is my favorite Maine Ice cream. I introduced Julie to ginger ice cream, which we both got, justifying it as an antioxidant. By the time we had our ice cream the day, which had started out grey had brightened up. We laughed and told stories on the Porch of Roundtop looking out over their sunflowers.

Sadly we had to day goodbye to Julie and head back to Owls Head. As Warren pulled his plumbers van into our driveway it started sprinkling and the fog had rolled into the harbor. This was the first time I heard the fog horn.

Just two days left to ensure I pack in all the Maine things. The time is just too short.

Serenity and Wendie

Russ started his day with his walk to Ash point. It is like walking to the edge of civilization if all human existence stopped one step behind him. He reported the water was warm today as he dipped his hand in from the rock ledge. Shay does not to go on that walk, as it is too far for her. This makes Russ very sad.

I had a different day ahead; lunch with my very dear friend Wendie. We met my first year I lived in Washington DC, introduced by my ground zero friend David. Wendie and David worked together and we all became part of a little pack of friends. Wendie married Bob and together they had the first baby of our friend group, Cory. Cory’s first two years were filled with this cast of crazy “Aunts and Uncles.” She called me Dee Dee, a name that still sticks with Wendie.

When Cory was not quite two, Wendie and Bob left her with me while they went to look at houses in Atlanta. It was a very cold late winter weekend and it snowed so much Cory and I were stuck in their house. I gave her a bath and tried to brush her freshly washed hair. Apparently I pulled it a little too hard and she said, “But Dee Dee, ma hair, ma hair.” It is a sentence that is repeated often in my house whenever we need to say anything about hair.

By luck Wendie was up in Camden last night, having gone to see Sting, yes that Sting, so we had lunch together today. We met at Home kitchen cafe and occupied the very best table for over two hours, much to the distress of other guests awaiting a seat. There is no such thing as time lost between us. As we are about to enter our fourth decade of friendship we can pick up right where we left off no matter how long it has been.

I returned home to Russ who had been working diligently all day. So much for his sabbatical. I lazily read my book and watched the sky and the water turn into one before the setting sun brought out a tinge of pink on the world. Only in this place, without noise or responsibilities, would I allow myself so much selfish solitude.

Misfit Dinner, and I Don’t Mean the Guest

When you rent a house for four weeks you end up stocking the fridge. So for the first three weeks we bought whatever we wanted and cooked or went out. Now here we are in week four. I open the fridge and look around the kitchen and think, “I’ve got to use these things up.”

Tonight our friend Warren was coming for dinner. Looking in the fridge I had lots of different kinds of cheese, some really good tomato sauce from a fancy gourmet store in Rockport, mushrooms from the Belfast farmers market I forgot about and some various veggies. What can I make? Pizza! That was a good plan, but it barley made a dent in the cheese or sauce. We did use up all the beautiful mushrooms.

For dessert I had five tiny apples from Beth’s Market. At first I thought a crumble, but somehow that morphed into a rice pudding with apples. I had Arborio rice, milk, sugar and egg so it was enough of the makings for rice pudding. Thankfully the house also came stocked with vanilla and cinnamon. I cooked up the apples with some lemon and cinnamon which were the perfect tart treat with a dollop of sweet rice pudding. Now we have too much rice pudding left over. Maybe Russ will have it for breakfast.

Warren came for dinner and we had a little editing job to do on something he had written, then we had our dinner made from the misfits. It was all good, but I am worried how the week is going to go with a partial cabbage, a butternut squash, one tomato, some kale and two leftover fish tacos. I’m not sure Warren would want to come back for another clean out the fridge meal. Oh I do have some sweet pickle relish and two kinds of mustard and some yankee version of jalapeño pimento cheese. Even a chopped basket would be easier than this set up.

Fiddle-dee-dee. I will just have to think about that tomorrow.

Shay: No Scary Water, Yes Lobster Grilled Cheese

Russ actually did not work today. I write that and I am unsure if it is true. He was up at 5:30 and could have been working, but not for long as I was up at 5:40. The sunrise is powerful here, even with the blinds. I have not slept past 6:00 most days.

Today we had a big trip to Acadia. We took Shay to see the sites. She did not like sitting in the back of the car alone when Russ was driving. She thought she she be on his lap, which was not allowed. We went to Southwest Harbor to look at a house Russ had wanted us to rent when he first came up with this plan to come to Maine for a month. I vetoed that house on the basis that it was too fancy, too big and too expensive. We had no trouble finding it and Russ agreed that the house we got was a much better fit.

Southwest Harbor is a sweet place, but I like the mid coast much better than Penobscot Bay. There are too many tourists around Acadia and too many campers. Not that we didn’t have a great time visiting. We went to Bass Harbour Head Light Station and Shay enjoyed the walk. On the way we stopped on the Seawall road and thanks to the full moon and a high tide that water was putting on quite a show hitting the rocks. Shay did not like any of that. The sound of water is very scary for her as well as the rocks being difficult for her to walk on.

After that we drove around to the fishing village of Bernard and considered our options for lunch. Which Lobster shack should we choose. The screened in one over looking the harbour in Bernard seemed too crowded for Shay so we doubled back to Archie’s Lobster which was a food truck with a bunch of tables on pavement over looking the harbour. It seemed like the worst choice. Turns out to have been a hidden gem Russ had read about, but didn’t know this was the place.

Archie’s has a lobster grilled cheese that you dip into Lobster bisque. This very well may be the winner of best lobster anything we have had this summer. The grilled cheese had cheddar and pepper jack cheese, which gave the lobster a hint of zing. Shay thought it was a big winner too. Full of goodness we eventually wandered our way home.

I stoped in Camden to run the car through a car wash and Shay objected to that water event also. I guess she would have been OK with it if I had a lobster grilled cheese to give her during the car wash.

Lobster Count:18

Maine Time

After three weeks, with visitors and places to go, Russ and and I are alone and I have settled into Maine time. Maine time means I spend a good portion of daylight hours watching boats and birds. I have come to identify lobster boats by their buoys and sail boats by their length. Twice I have seen a bald eagle fly by my second story window, but being on Maine time means I don’t have a phone near by to catch a photo of her.

If I have one thing to do a day it is an event. Yesterday I met my friend Jamie for lunch in Lincolnville. Maine time means I took a photo of my lunch and not of Jamie. The lack of photo does not indicate the quality of time we had together. Since we both went to high school and college together we have a breadth of overlap that we pick right up on even though our visits are few and far between. I promised next summer to see her more and with some of our Walker’s friends who come to visit.

Maine time means that today’s outing, a badly needed pedicure, had me choosing a green polish in honor of the pine tree state. I never had anything like green toes before.

Meals are not planned, but gathered from the choices picked up at road size stand awaiting in the fridge, making combinations interesting as we need to eat up what we have.

Lobster counts have been kept, but not reported for days. As they are a family count I need to add five lobsters to the total for the last few days. Maine time means we are now craving chicken, since we have only eaten fish for the last few weeks.

Snuggling with Shay is a full time job along with opening and closing the deck door depending on her whim. That whim changes every five minutes.

Sadly I have finished my puzzle, which mysteriously was missing three blue pieces by the time I was done. I won’t have time to do another as I am so deep into Maine time my productivity has dwindled to near nothing.

Maine time means no TV or News so when Carter texted me about the queen I was hours late to begin the mourning. The quiet of our house is addictive, with only bird calls as song.

The sweetness of a month in Maine is not lost on me. It is the rejuvenation of the soul and the calming of the brain. Oh I love Maine time.

Lobsters Eaten: 15

Maine Time

After three weeks, with visitors and places to go, Russ and and I are alone and I have settled into Maine time. Maine time means I spend a good portion of daylight hours watching boats and birds. I have come to identify lobster boats by their buoys and sail boats by their length. Twice I have seen a bald eagle fly by my second story window, but being on Maine time means I don’t have a phone near by to catch a photo of her.

If I have one thing to do a day it is an event. Yesterday I met my friend Jamie for lunch in Lincolnville. Maine time means I took a photo of my lunch and not of Jamie. The lack of photo does not indicate the quality of time we had together. Since we both went to high school and college together we have a breadth of overlap that we pick right up on even though our visits are few and far between. I promised next summer to see her more and with some of our Walker’s friends who come to visit.

Maine time means that today’s outing, a badly needed pedicure, had me choosing a green polish in honor of the pine tree state. I never had anything like green toes before.

Meals are not planned, but gathered from the choices picked up at road size stand awaiting in the fridge, making combinations interesting as we need to eat up what we have.

Lobster counts have been kept, but not reported for days. As they are a family count I need to add five lobsters to the total for the last few days. Maine time means we are now craving chicken, since we have only eaten fish for the last few weeks.

Snuggling with Shay is a full time job along with opening and closing the deck door depending on her whim. That whim changes every five minutes.

Sadly I have finished my puzzle, which mysteriously was missing three blue pieces by the time I was done. I won’t have time to do another as I am so deep into Maine time my productivity has dwindled to near nothing.

Maine time means no TV or News so when Carter texted me about the queen I was hours late to begin the mourning. The quiet of our house is addictive, with only bird calls as song.

The sweetness of a month in Maine is not lost on me. It is the rejuvenation of the soul and the calming of the brain. Oh I love Maine time.

Lobsters Eaten: 15

Sadness for the Queen

Even though she was 96, I am still shocked at the death of Queen Elizabeth. As long as I have been alive she was THE QUEEN. It did not matter that other countries might have had queens, or a singer was “the queen of soul” or “Queen B”, there was only one real Queen, Elizabeth.

Having lived in London twice in my life, the last time on the north side of Hyde Park right near Buckingham palace, I revered her. To my British friends I send my condolences. Monarchy is a complicated subject. To those inside the UK who feel it is too expensive I want to remind them that the best ambassador for tourism in the UK has been the queen. She has been so beloved around the world.

I am especially shocked that the Queen gave an audience to the new Prime Minister, Liz Truss, just days before her death. She was up and dressed and holding her hand bag three days ago. Now she is gone. I certainly hope not to be working three days before I die. Liz Truss better do an damn good job, since she was the last PM to have an audience with the queen. It’s an auspicious start to her term.

I am glad that the queen lived long enough to have her big Jubilee. She was feted while she was living and we can morn her now that she is gone. I am going to have a very hard time switching from “God save the queen,” to “God save the king.” She left some really big, but sensible, shoes to fill. God help King Charles.

And Just Like That

Her flight was at 4:40. It takes us about five minutes to drive from our little house to the Owl’s Head airport. She had to check-in in person thirty minutes before the flight and fifteen minutes before six TSA agents came out and opened the security check. With an eight person flight that’s almost one TSA person per flyer.

Comically her ticket said “pre-check” but that did not mean that they were not going to open and search every inch of her bag, along with everyone else’s. Since we had nothing better to do we went outside the airport and sat in the Adirondack chairs next to the covered picnic table which must be the TSA break room.

Shay was very attentive watching the pilot check the plane, which happened to be Cape Air’s newer model with what looked like more head room. Russ looked it up on his new favorite website Flightrader. Turns out her plane is serial number 37, new plane indeed.

We watched her walk out of the terminal along with her co-passengers and hand off her back pack to be stowed in the rear of the plane. No wing storage on this model. She boarded first without a look back. I teared up a little as the flight taxied down to the end of the runway. A rare week together. So few and far between. She’s back to her happy life in Boston. It’s what we worked all those years for, but It doesn’t make me any less sad when she flys away.

Carter’s Last Full Day

It’s Carter’s last full day visiting us in Maine. We have had a fun week even though she has had to work some. It started out as a gray day. I was happy we were not on the schooner sailing by our house this morning.

Tonight we finally went for ice cream at our favorite Dairy Bar Dorman’s. Carter said, “It’s really vacation when you get to go for ice cream in your pajamas.” Carter stayed in the car, but for the record the girls in front of me were in their Pajamas.

We are going to miss Carter, especially Shay, who liked riding in the car in the back with her. I am not looking forward to Shay’s moping when we drop Carter off at the airport tomorrow. I don’t think that even ice cream will make her happy then.

Least Laboring Labor Day

I know that Labor Day is a holiday to honor working people, but since I have not been a laborer since I worked in the printing factory one summer in high school it is normally a day of fun for me. Traditionally if I am not at a Labor Day Picnic I am at home laboring over some much needed chore.

This year we are in Maine. No Party to go to and with the terribly cold rain all day no outdoor festivities. Since this is not my house I have no pent up chores to do; no attic to clean out, obnoxious garage to straighten up, no cobwebs to sweep from eaves. Instead, this has been the most non-laboring Labor Day ever.

I literally stayed in bed playing games on my iPad for a good part of the morning. Then I got up and dressed, made the bed and laid back down to read this wonderful book Suzanne gave me. Around 1:30 I thought it would be a good idea to actually leave our room so I went down stairs and had some leftovers for lunch. Not even cooking to labor over. I worked on my puzzle Karen gave me. I am stretching out finishing the puzzle. Now at 4:00 I’m back up on my bed, looking out over the water, which is free of birds and boats to watch. It’s back to reading, after this short productive ten minutes to write.

I should be fully rested by the time tomorrow rolls around. Pray for sunshine.

The Breakwater Two Ways

What an active day we had today. It started with our morning constitutional walk on the breakwater to the Rockland light house. It was a beautiful day for that walk and it turns out that the light house was open on one of it’s rare occasions. After a good three mile walk in the salt air and we were ready for brunch.

Home Kitchen Cafe has a menu that begs you to try everything, but that would take six months. Everyone else in Rockland also wanted to eat there today. Thanks to my having a friendly conversation with the hostess about her hurt back we got bumped up the list and did not have to wait the 40 minutes that was first quoted.

Brunch and the breakwater wore us out so we repaired home to rest and naps were had by some. There wasn’t a lot of time to hang out as we had a sailing trip on Bufflehead with Captain Dan. Sailing out of Rockland Harbor we went out to the Owls Head Lighthouse. Dan was thoroughly entertaining and Carter and Estelle enjoyed the view from the bow.

As we came back in the harbor we sailed right up to the lighthouse and down the harbor side of the breakwater. It was an excellent and much more relaxing way to enjoy the sites.

We finished off the day by picking up a vegetarian Indian dinner from Namaste. It was a totally different cuisine from our normal chowder.

Shay was thrilled for us to finally be home to snuggle with her. She wishes she had gone sailing too.

Resetting Expectations

Every year we come to Maine we make sure to secure a reservation at Primo, one of our favorite Restaurants. It is wildly popular and usually does not disappoint. Primo is one of the original Farm to table restaurants, with the farm right behind the restaurant. This year we made sure to go during Carter’s visit along with her friend Estelle.

We went early tonight so we could walk around the gardens and admire their perfect rows of many types of lettuce, and Swiss chard and fennel. They do grow a perfect garden. Then there are the chickens and the pigs. So many chickens doing their best to peck up every possible bug. Estelle and Carter loved the whole array of animals.

We enjoyed a drink and some oysters in the barn bar before checking in with the hostess for our seven-thirty reservation. It was more than a little wait for our table. Eventually we were seated close to eight. Getting a table did not mean getting a waiter. That was another twenty minutes. Thankfully one of the helpers mistakenly brought us bread that a different table had ordered. It was well after 8:30 before we placed a drink order.

Our Australian waiter made a half apology about keeping us waiting, but is dripped with insincerity. The rest of his service lived up to our first impression. Thankfully his slowness was not indicative of the chef’s talents.

Our food was divine. Carter and I both had the poached lobster risotto adding to our lobster totals for the vacation. Russ had the octopus and the fig pizza and Estelle the bolognese. The time between our starters and our mains was so long I was ready to go home before the risotto arrived. We couldn’t even consider dessert because that would have taken us into the next day.

We were so late leaving the restaurant we only saw one car pass us all the home for three miles.

My suggestion to ourselves next year is that we don’t come on the Saturday of a long weekend, that we come for an earlier seating and pray for a non-Australian waiter. Nothing against Australians in general, just not this guy.

I know that getting staff this year is tougher than normal. I just need to know that is true for even the finest places. I’m adjusting my expectations.

Lobster Count: 12

Hug Your Pets

I’ll start with the good news, Shay is fine, but we had a little scare after dinner tonight she suddenly started crying and could not straighten out her back. Carter’s friend Estelle, who arrived today, immediately started looking for emergency vets as we were trying to access what Shay had done.

Russ and Carter took her off to the mid-coast emergency vets and while they were waiting to be seen Shay’s back relaxed and she seemed back to normal. The vet said she just made one wrong move that caused the spasm, now she is going to have to take it easy. It was scary, until she felt better.

This was not the way the day had been going. Carter and I got up early and went to the Belfast farmer’s market. The growing season in Maine is short so farmers have to make a much as they can when the tourists are around and will pay top dollar. I was happy to help the local community.

I asked one guy selling goat cheese how his day was and he replied, “ I live on a farm with lots of goats and get to make cheese, what could be bad.” I think it was this man’s second act and it was beautiful. Farming is hard work and we need younger people to be able to make a living at it.

After our big adventure out we came home to wait for Estelle’s bus to arrive from Boston. It was very late due to Labor Day traffic. We are going to do our best to stay close to home this weekend as there are a lot of festivals meaning a lot of traffic. That and we need to keep Shay calm and relaxed at home.

There is no more helpless feeling than your dog crying and you can’t fix her. Hug your pets tonight.

Camden Day

Not surprisingly Russ is working way to much in Maine. The plan was for him to get away from day-to-day work so he could write, which is for work anyway. Sadly, work has gotten in the way of work and of fun! Today he had a day full of calls so Carter and I went out so he could have quiet.

Carter requested a trip to Camden. I have not stopped in Camden this year so it was a trip for both of us. We first had to visit our favorite coffee shop, Zoot. We enjoyed a delicious morning cafe au lait and gabbed. At one point we were laughing so hard, that I snorted and the couple next to us was getting a laugh out of us. Zoot, like so many businesses in Maine this year was suffering from a lack of staff. The staffing issue is compounded by an affordable housing issue. I suggest that the companies that build for- profit dorms do the same things for seasonal workers in places like Maine and Nantucket. That way businesses can offer people jobs that come with housing.

After coffee we went to our friend Warren’s shop, #10 Mechanic. Carter got some vintage Pyrex custard cups to use when making her mis en placé. Warren always takes good care of Carter!

After we went in a home decor store that I mistakenly thought replaced my favorite store. When I mentioned something to the owner, who had chosen her plastic surgeon badly, she said, “We have been here 37 years. That’s 30 years longer than that other store.” Now I miss Jo Ellen’s even more, not only did they have the best inventory they had the kindest owner.

Eventually we had lunch at Greens, a sweet little place. As we were waiting I used the restroom and said to Carter, “If their food is half as good as the cleanliness of their bathroom this place is a hit!” It was.

We wound our way home to find Russ still slaving away, not having even had time for lunch. As he was very hungry we decided to go into Rockland to Archer’s on the Pier for dinner. We left the house with Shay crying her head off. We came home to a mad puppy for having left her out of the fun. While we were at Archer’s we had the best waitress, Jilly, who told us she had been a professional waitress for over 42 years. She certainly was a pro. I searched out the owner Lin, and told her that Jilly was the best wait staff we had been served by in two years.

On the way home we took a number of detours to look, at houses. Carter was frustrated by the many private roads we could not drive down. We still had a wonderful tour as the best way to end our very fun day.

Camden Day

Not surprisingly Russ is working way to much in Maine. The plan was for him to get away from day-to-day work so he could write, which is for work anyway. Sadly, work has gotten in the way of work and of fun! Today he had a day full of calls so Carter and I went out so he could have quiet.

Carter requested a trip to Camden. I have not stopped in Camden this year so it was a trip for both of us. We first had to visit our favorite coffee shop, Zoot. We enjoyed a delicious morning cafe au lait and gabbed. At one point we were laughing so hard, that I snorted and the couple next to us was getting a laugh out of us. Zoot, like so many businesses in Maine this year was suffering from a lack of staff. The staffing issue is compounded by an affordable housing issue. I suggest that the companies that build for- profit dorms do the same things for seasonal workers in places like Maine and Nantucket. That way businesses can offer people jobs that come with housing.

After coffee we went to our friend Warren’s shop, #10 Mechanic. Carter got some vintage Pyrex custard cups to use when making her mis en placé. Warren always takes good care of Carter!

After we went in a home decor store that I mistakenly thought replaced my favorite store. When I mentioned something to the owner, who had chosen her plastic surgeon badly, she said, “We have been here 37 years. That’s 30 years longer than that other store.” Now I miss Jo Ellen’s even more, not only did they have the best inventory they had the kindest owner.

Eventually we had lunch at Greens, a sweet little place. As we were waiting I used the restroom and said to Carter, “If their food is half as good as the cleanliness of their bathroom this place is a hit!” It was.

We wound our way home to find Russ still slaving away, not having even had time for lunch. As he was very hungry we decided to go into Rockland to Archer’s on the Pier for dinner. We left the house with Shay crying her head off. We came home to a mad puppy for having left her out of the fun. While we were at Archer’s we had the best waitress, Jilly, who told us she had been a professional waitress for over 42 years. She certainly was a pro. I searched out the owner Lin, and told her that Jilly was the best wait staff we had been served by in two years.

On the way home we took a number of detours to look, at houses. Carter was frustrated by the many private roads we could not drive down. We still had a wonderful tour as the best way to end our very fun day.