tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60015779184579924522024-03-12T16:10:15.241-07:00The DedmonsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-59595335049446568402011-10-25T08:03:00.000-07:002011-10-25T08:42:58.296-07:00Leaving New Hampshire, and Texas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Village, Hillsboro, NH</td></tr>
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Yesterday morning Chris took a 9am flight to San Antonio. Rather than roll us all out of bed at 6am to drive him there, as if I even could, I suggested he drive himself to the airport. Chris and I had a wee bit of coffee and a short time together, and he drove off before the sun came up, which these days could be nearly any time before 8:00 am, sassafrassin' Daylight Savings Time. Dad and I made plans to drive to Manchester later to retrieve the Jeep.<br />
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He was not particularly pleased to be traveling with two gigantic fifty-pound suitcases, <em>and</em> two carry-ons. Chris is a man who can leave for a week packed with one small suitcase that fits in the overhead compartment. This is something I think he has to do to strike a balance for the Universe, because when I leave for a week it is with two fifty-pound bags. Or maybe I'm the one striking the balance, because he so woefully underpacks. Life's great mysteries.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scaling Mount Everest at the NH Audubon Society</td></tr>
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Back in early September, Chris drove from Texas to New Hampshire in the heavily-loaded Jeep. He made record time until he came to Vermont, where bridges wiped out by flooding from Hurricane Irene took away all of his gains. The Jeep did really well on the drive, but its much-abused shocks and its engine have had their share of little mechanical issues. We will not be taking it back to Texas. It will serve us better waiting here for the next time we want to fly out for an extended visit. Hence Chris, and his fifty-pound bags. <br />
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As I write, my children have turned two of our big suitcases into pillowed and portable forts. Later today, once they've been vacated, I'll be working on packing those bags. I'll be packing things I don't normally pack, like scooters, and planning to ship some things that couldn't travel in luggage, like a microscope. At least one of the 4 suitcases we're taking home will be full of craft supplies and books. If they don't all fit into one, Quinn's stroller will get to relocate to New Hampshire sooner than Quinn, and I'll pack another bag. Sorry, stroller. You'll learn to love the winters.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wry Griffin in front of the grape arbor</td></tr>
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We all have mixed emotions about leaving this time. The boys seem to be 100% excited to return to Texas, and 100% sad to be leaving New England. I am so thoroughly enjoying myself right now - fall has always been my favorite season - that I can scarcely imagine returning to the unseasonably warm afternoons and blazing sunshine of McKinney. Of course, they're not unseasonable for Texas, they're right on track. Only unseasonable to my expectations of Autumn. Chris had no choice but to return, he had a meeting in San Antonio and then he'll fly home to Dallas on Wednesday, where we will join him on Saturday.<br />
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We are planning to move ahead with selling the house in McKinney. Before he left in September, Chris did a walk-through with our realtor and made an outline of what needs to be done. Some of it will be done, like staining the fence. Some of it will not be done, like replacing all of the floors (puh-lease). Once we are able to put the house on the market, our plan is to return to New Hampshire while it is being shown. We have an outline, but we do not have a timeline.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Keene Pumpkin Festival" or "Holy Yellow Tree, Batman!"</td></tr>
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One of my friends in Texas is a homeschooling Mom to three boys. As you may imagine, there are as many reasons for choosing to homeschool as there are homeschooling families. When asked why she does it, Brianna responds, "I want my sons to have a chance to make their avocation their <em>vocation</em>". I understood the gist of what she was saying, but I'd be lying if I pretended I didn't look up avocation when I went home. You know, just to get the nuances right.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With apples from Grandpa's trees.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">av·o·ca·tion </span><span class="pg"><strong><em><span class="hwc">noun</span> <span class="hwc"></span></em></strong></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">1. </span></span><span class="hwc">something</span> <span class="hwc">a</span> <span class="hwc">person</span> <span class="hwc">does</span> <span class="hwc">in</span> <span class="hwc">addition</span> <span class="hwc">to</span> <span class="hwc">a</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">principal</span> <span class="hwc">occupation,</span> <strong><span class="hwc">especially</span> <span class="hwc">for</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">pleasure;</span> </strong><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;"><strong>hobby</strong>:</span> <span class="hwc"></span><span class="ital-inline"><em><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">Our</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">doctor's</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span class="hwc">avocation</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span class="hwc">is</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">painting.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></em></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc"><span style="color: #333333;">2. </span></span></span><span class="hwc">a</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">person's</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">regular</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">occupation,</span> <span class="hwc">calling,</span> <span class="hwc">or</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">vocation. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc"><span style="color: #333333;">3. </span></span></span><span class="labset"><span class="ital-inline"><span class="hwc"><em>Archaic</em></span></span><span class="hwc">.</span> <span class="hwc"></span></span><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">diversion</span> <span class="hwc">or</span> <span class="hwc">distraction.</span></span></div>
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Making the best of wherever we are in life, making lemonade out of lemons is a laudable personal philosophy and one we all need in our toolbox. (Or shall I say, in our knitting bag - why should men get all the action imagery?) The trick is to have the discernment to know when we've crossed from creatively working with our present realities, to accepting our present realities as immutable fact.<br />
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I've collected quite a few old address labels over the past 41 years. Missouri, New Hampshire, Nebraska, Rhode Island, California, Massachusetts, Maine, and now Texas. (Be forewarned, in order to capture my innate personal glamour more correctly, my future memoir may also include some less well-documented moves I made to Paris, Scotland, Nepal and Manhattan. Not to say New Hampshire, Nebraska and Texas <em>aren't</em> glamorous. But they're not.) <br />
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I've made a home for myself in every place I've ever lived, but I've learned that New England is my <em>spiritual </em>home. I am lucky to have married a native Texan who feels just the same way. Now we want our everyday home and our spiritual home to be the same place.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another native Texan</td></tr>
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In moving back to New England, we will incur some losses. We'll lose daily contact with some beloved friends and family we have in Texas. Quinn will deal with the loss of the only home he has ever known, and Griffin says he will lose the "the home I've grown up in!". Yes, he did refer to having grown-up as a 'fait accompli'. He's 8.<br />
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There will be some positive losses, too. Our real estate portfolio will go from 3 to 2 homes, a much more manageable number. We will lose the need to pay astronomical electric bills from April to September. We will purge a lot of our unwanted belongings in the process of the move. I will effortlessly lose 20 pounds, and our dog will lose her ability to shed buckets of hair every hour. Don't question me, I'm manifesting here.<br />
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Of course there will also be gains, but I'll save those for another post. <br />
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So today I'll start the packing that will take us from New Hampshire to Texas. When I return to Texas on Saturday, I will sit down in a chair with some yarn and and some needles, possibly for as long as 3 days. I will come to terms with the imminent chaos, and then I'll start packing again for Points Unknown, New England.<br />
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Does anyone have a lot of cardboard boxes?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old County Lane, the road we grew up on.</td></tr>
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Best -<br />
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Sarah <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-29737514488057790002011-10-19T12:40:00.000-07:002011-10-19T18:54:30.954-07:00Leaving Maine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRrHdGHx2Sjd0HQ7HxoSynB6UejlGHrdDeoS7GZ-h1Zmk_OFOzYlvXudV7PFsMEXPTlooPADpO2WHgenivs_-IYggl2K5hpChPOjzzWKUlcaJTWdm3DevaR0xzpXYq23kFct7xw2cQfA/s1600/678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRrHdGHx2Sjd0HQ7HxoSynB6UejlGHrdDeoS7GZ-h1Zmk_OFOzYlvXudV7PFsMEXPTlooPADpO2WHgenivs_-IYggl2K5hpChPOjzzWKUlcaJTWdm3DevaR0xzpXYq23kFct7xw2cQfA/s400/678.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Chris took a business trip to San Antonio the week before we had scheduled ourselves to depart for New Hampshire, and that event signaled the close of what felt like our neverending vacation in Maine. He came home from the airport, we celebrated his birthday with friends, then Dad packed up his big red truck and headed out, the first to leave. Chris and I moved into winding-down mode and with that came all of the reflective thoughts that leaving our Maine life seems to bring out in us. I made lists for what had to leave, what could stay, and began the first of what must have been 25 different loads of laundry.The kids carried on as they always do, maybe whining a little bit more because we were preoccupied with packing Quinn would say, "1st we're going to New Hampshire, then we're going home to TEXAS!". He always says Texas in capital letters.<br />
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Chris and I have a long history of taking our coffee together in the morning. It gives us a half hour or so to come together before the day gets away from us. We just chat and fix our ideas of what we need or hope to do in the day. The children now understand that coffee time is our time, Mom & Dad time that we take every day. Because we've been <em>so</em> firm about this, they only interrupt us every 3 minutes, which is quite generous as their normal Interrupting Mom & Dad setting is notched at 45 seconds. It is quite peaceful, you can really get a lot of words strung together in an extra 2 minutes of kid-free silence. I know, we're the envy of parents everywhere. What can I say? We are paragons of parental discipline.<br />
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When we chat in Maine, we are usually talking about what we love about Maine, and about the house that we built there. I am often talking about how nourished I feel stepping out my front door into nature, being around tall trees, wild meadows and the easy beauty of ocean views around every turn. Chris is often talking about....well, wait. I think Chris is mostly nodding along. I'm also talking about the dozens of small seredipitous events that led to the Maine house becoming what it is, something that so clearly has become greater than the sum of its parts. It is a house with a clear and inviting energy, sitting on a piece of remarkable land that has been appreciated and used by men and women, native and european, for many thousands of years. I relax completely when I'm there, and so does Chris.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are also talking about what we love about our lives in Texas. Our dear friends there, the home that we've made in the house we live in, being near my mother-in-law, and the way that you can pretty much always find something to do outside the house. 9 times out of 10 it involves visiting some form of retail establishment, but if you've ever lived through a Texas August or a New England February, you do not knock anything that keeps you from being stuck indoors with your children for weeks on end, even if it's a trip to Target. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>We don't really know which way we're headed at the moment. We know when Chris is returning to Texas, but we do not have a date for the boys and I. We know we want to put the Texas house on the market, but we do not have a firm timeline. We know that Chris has been approached about a new job focused 50% on the Northeast, and the rest on the east coast, but we don't have a timeline for that, either. We do not know when we will see our Maine house again, or who will be living in it this winter.<br />
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<br />
So, we're in limbo, in New Hampshire. But <strike>you won't hear me complaining</strike>, <strike>I complain very little,</strike> I am trying not to go nuts from the uncertainty. Fall in New Hampshire is such a breath of fresh air. <br />
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If you also don't live here any longer, maybe you have also forgotten that wherever you go, leaves are falling. They're twirling above you, 20' above the ground, 10' above the ground, across the ground, in whirling dervishes on the sidewalk. The drop in front of you and behind you when you walk, hit you on the head, and make surprisingly loud noises as they clatter down branches in an otherwise quiet forest. Squirrels sound like small bears when they run across the crunchy leaves, more than once my heart rate has spiked thinking I wasn't alone in the woods. [Sidenote - if I ever find the devil that produced that beeping Sasquatch audio book I watched 14 times in the first grade, I'm going to tie him to Peter Benchley, throw them in my father's root cellar with a cask of red wine and brick them both in.]<br />
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Rain, rain, go away. Dad and I are going to take the boys off to run some errands, and let Chris work upstairs in peace. I am happily knitting away on a pair of stranded mittens called Fiddleheads. The forest floors are covered in ferns here in New Hampshire, so I thought they were an apt choice.<br />
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More soon.<br />
<br />
xxxooo<br />
<br />
Sarah <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRVOvbSe7c6Fn_cMAAeUqhfZI-nMEEodEZJ7vH_LDuXFJPg-GmJyBbOcnGLIoHv_Saqumymng5hLw34xOkT6qebmkvSxHPPiKlxXh8vuhUQzeuVMMl8YD0NQ3SLax4a_0_YjQqndScg/s1600/689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRVOvbSe7c6Fn_cMAAeUqhfZI-nMEEodEZJ7vH_LDuXFJPg-GmJyBbOcnGLIoHv_Saqumymng5hLw34xOkT6qebmkvSxHPPiKlxXh8vuhUQzeuVMMl8YD0NQ3SLax4a_0_YjQqndScg/s400/689.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-25274035878081155302011-10-06T16:45:00.000-07:002011-10-06T16:58:07.222-07:00A Shot of Winter<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNZGfM4rhgitRfvjMowwnSxJjYPcUd5evJ8aHTQDLS1iKZA60yuX2PfCmAXTr7xrMYTxHGHtWijfOGcmFUtXsVDWJj7kzfBRaMp1qedj5SapPA-Gpcj8-gOd_UUCtcEIIXNASUd9SeGQ/s1600/1006111750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNZGfM4rhgitRfvjMowwnSxJjYPcUd5evJ8aHTQDLS1iKZA60yuX2PfCmAXTr7xrMYTxHGHtWijfOGcmFUtXsVDWJj7kzfBRaMp1qedj5SapPA-Gpcj8-gOd_UUCtcEIIXNASUd9SeGQ/s400/1006111750.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The view from the Frazier's house, that little white thing is an old lighthouse called The Sparkplug</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Quinn has a head cold, which I am surely fighting, and so fatigue is setting in. I wanted to post some photos of some of our fun before I coax the boys into going to bed at 8. If it were up to me, I'd be asleep now at 7:20.<br />
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We spent the past weekend in Bangor. We really love the city, but our visit was a little wet. It rained the entire time, and being in one tiny hotel room with two rambunctious boys is a little trying. God bless Embassy Suites, may we never stay anywhere else again. We did have a great visit to the Maine Discovery Center again. Did you know that Bangor has the oldest operating Symphony in the US? I'm telling you, I love that town.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOSL7hdLieRMet_2Tse3Lf95Xn2Vy88rODcpx_en2U6FxOYye0urVH8Jgg9NoaWy8vKSF-kIW0virjSDTto98BdiUJKWVODct8PpnnWxkuQEbEeAiLTjEPv1F54wMlooJQBFeMi8C2w/s1600/1005111302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOSL7hdLieRMet_2Tse3Lf95Xn2Vy88rODcpx_en2U6FxOYye0urVH8Jgg9NoaWy8vKSF-kIW0virjSDTto98BdiUJKWVODct8PpnnWxkuQEbEeAiLTjEPv1F54wMlooJQBFeMi8C2w/s320/1005111302.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The homemade wagon train</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chris flew out at 7am Sunday morning to make the 12 hour trek to San Antonio. That's how long it takes when your first flight is out of Airport 1964, and you have to make 2 connections through Airport 1978. Unfortunately for all of us, he missed his flight back on Wednesday morning, which meant he arrived at midnight instead of 4pm. Dad very generously sacrificed himself to the late night pickup, and both of them were home and in bed here by 2am. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9sg5wNi7ogviahOohF_yi2uDwdJkBvVt61wfAYV4GBreqNxPoBkVbVxNCCghkCgE_hMCXWyick5L4kIkrbBE2gGQYMp7nYzXdK4A_2If3UbJnTc3Npv74iahDwpkhLEmWtrmm5Ub6Q/s1600/1005111852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9sg5wNi7ogviahOohF_yi2uDwdJkBvVt61wfAYV4GBreqNxPoBkVbVxNCCghkCgE_hMCXWyick5L4kIkrbBE2gGQYMp7nYzXdK4A_2If3UbJnTc3Npv74iahDwpkhLEmWtrmm5Ub6Q/s400/1005111852.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<><><><><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span> </>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Possibly my favorite night here. Tea, music, and a jigsaw puzzle with Griffin</span></td></tr>
<><><><><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></></tbody></table><span style="font-size: xx-small;"></span>Bangor has what looks like a highly effective 'Don't Locate Your Business Here' strategy going with their airport policies. American pulled out because their landing fees are so high. Two flights out a day on Delta means that no serious company would ever headquarter here. If it's rabid growth they're concerned about, I think they could leave that fear at the feet of the 'Winter Starts in October' gods, and trust.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uZjmQpruTWRhG19ALrwobpJLhgbpM1vKOu3PYy2WGnqdRuYIdveAKchCFyiWtxnVT0ZhRv6wjKfGEEtGyq1053ldCdHAFkEdsGu3DporyOoEcpFkQt5FLdWMv4Hot0m_9epIMH4Z_A/s1600/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uZjmQpruTWRhG19ALrwobpJLhgbpM1vKOu3PYy2WGnqdRuYIdveAKchCFyiWtxnVT0ZhRv6wjKfGEEtGyq1053ldCdHAFkEdsGu3DporyOoEcpFkQt5FLdWMv4Hot0m_9epIMH4Z_A/s320/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Quinn and Griffin have become especially creative at making up games and making new toys during our time here. As the pictures show, they've appropriated the boxes their Lincoln Logs came in and made them into a sort of wagon train by adding on another contraption from their play tents. They are having even more fun with a bag of my polyfiberfil. It turns out it is hilarious to stuff your shirts with the stuff and then bounce bellies with each other. They're sort of like mini anglo sumo wrestlers. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBCBwNcij6QAV8FCAoQJRuhYy9LtSNP8GMj4okZA-X9V6fce-DabCqQzKcjpalm8mAtcFEXeErXEW_0BJV48f1Dsim3uhY9_eyNfwiEbMG6tUikA59jI6Gb2giCD_h5XpA_Iv64cnOGQ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBCBwNcij6QAV8FCAoQJRuhYy9LtSNP8GMj4okZA-X9V6fce-DabCqQzKcjpalm8mAtcFEXeErXEW_0BJV48f1Dsim3uhY9_eyNfwiEbMG6tUikA59jI6Gb2giCD_h5XpA_Iv64cnOGQ/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lubec</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBug0QdrYwQN9zk0dJrK6nBmIhyphenhyphenCKAck8HnaICUlGb3o8fl3mbTTI9eRCD3jyeAquKdy2-7j6pKWbBlxOe8nneFeZbV0QXdJGFAR-Lhw2x3Yda-Pd4Viq7mcfp4cJ3fw2_-IhHa2eMQ/s1600/1005111238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBug0QdrYwQN9zk0dJrK6nBmIhyphenhyphenCKAck8HnaICUlGb3o8fl3mbTTI9eRCD3jyeAquKdy2-7j6pKWbBlxOe8nneFeZbV0QXdJGFAR-Lhw2x3Yda-Pd4Viq7mcfp4cJ3fw2_-IhHa2eMQ/s320/1005111238.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>It seems that weather everywhere likes to do this, give you a little glimpse of what's coming ahead. In Texas that means that autumn is on its way when you'll find a couple of sweet 85 degree days in the midst of a week at 105. In New England it means that winter is coming when we leave the 60s and hover in the high 40s for a day or two. I must still have thin southern blood. I'm cold! But I <em>like</em> it. I turned the heat on in the afternoon twice this week. Being a child of New Hampshire, I feel a little decadent heating a house above 60, but I'm spoiling myself and running it at 64 for now. It will be turned off when we go to bed, and in the low 50's in the living room when I wake up tomorrow. I bought a fleece jacket.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5yQHoFeOZ8qoRwJBZ4Ri2YAxG5p8gf2TqtUnycfNAVwZnEFgOSU-12X7D2SthEjqKzjtL-b8JzCkGn-k_zHNVJH7z5UHHVqXx55PErLaIr70gpVXk_u0V4Tui3pasxkDQ5GLq8gEYxg/s1600/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5yQHoFeOZ8qoRwJBZ4Ri2YAxG5p8gf2TqtUnycfNAVwZnEFgOSU-12X7D2SthEjqKzjtL-b8JzCkGn-k_zHNVJH7z5UHHVqXx55PErLaIr70gpVXk_u0V4Tui3pasxkDQ5GLq8gEYxg/s320/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Looking toward Campobello Island, Canada</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">from inside the chocolate shop. It's windy.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We visited Lubec today, it was lovely. I bought yarn. I bought chocolate. Lubec is surrounded on 3 sides by ocean, and so you have stunning views at nearly every turn. The whitecaps were lovely, and the light was amazing. You could see different colors of blue and green in patches across the bay. I've said it before, the light up here is just incredible. So clear, and so soft.<br />
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My camera broke, so all of the pictures I'm taking are with cruddy cell phone cams. They will have to do for now.<br />
<br />
Chocolate? Or bed? Hmmmmm.<br />
<br />
xxxooo SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-69611851835543701772011-10-03T15:56:00.000-07:002011-10-03T16:03:09.512-07:00Happy Birthday, Chris<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JAEEkPVoXDpIa7_1qxncqm1MxLWBlmfnIUYbLZSN0XzdCZuCxgbVf2_h5jgsyd63rGZ3tKnTjLsx0Ba4CNLSVTFZjuScLWEW2-gUjL1jmQCQBOj-Qa-nc22XglK6kxseW0xDfatdIQ/s1600/1003111629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JAEEkPVoXDpIa7_1qxncqm1MxLWBlmfnIUYbLZSN0XzdCZuCxgbVf2_h5jgsyd63rGZ3tKnTjLsx0Ba4CNLSVTFZjuScLWEW2-gUjL1jmQCQBOj-Qa-nc22XglK6kxseW0xDfatdIQ/s320/1003111629.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Smalls Cove as seen at high tide, on my blissfully solo walk</span></td></tr>
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Dear Husband -<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmAZVIb2GpHe0At_0wEZcELJR6WoUxyHfxyY5G_7cx66cGTw-8XL954eOd7v7gpKYmHu65DzhS6WGVwWwgmtoK9_CXSBQmJ3joFSes_jpLdOW_6SQ2SfUayjNud2cxUCHytfZNJgjoA/s1600/1003111558a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmAZVIb2GpHe0At_0wEZcELJR6WoUxyHfxyY5G_7cx66cGTw-8XL954eOd7v7gpKYmHu65DzhS6WGVwWwgmtoK9_CXSBQmJ3joFSes_jpLdOW_6SQ2SfUayjNud2cxUCHytfZNJgjoA/s320/1003111558a.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">On the dirt road to Indian Point</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Today on your birthday the boys used every spare minute and ounce of energy they had to bicker with one another. When they ran out of energy, they sucked mine out through my skull and used it instead. They bickered for good reasons, for imagined reasons, for boredom. They yelled at each other for talking, for making funny noises, and for yelling. They yelled at each other for being loud. One of them napped, the other refused, and then one of them threw up.<br />
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I tell you all this because, despite the lovely walks and beautiful scenery you'll see in this post, you should consider that just possibly your birthday was a happier one for being in San Antonio surrounded by business people. Sure, they're just as whiny as our children, but you can walk away from their whining and they will not follow you on their scooter, whining all the way. Or, if they do, you can walk straight into the hotel bar for a cold glass of moxy.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38KFkLlEGYrG5vKN3cfdDLPEB2bw2YYM0TUe2dwM7en1_6qfqHo_o8DyyguQPhkVdqJgz-NyrbPZ7PiAIaoPgegOBnpxcNI_6T7Tr3L5dNnWJHyTVi8zt_QXvCRhnvszn7fhb3dD0Tg/s1600/1003111441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38KFkLlEGYrG5vKN3cfdDLPEB2bw2YYM0TUe2dwM7en1_6qfqHo_o8DyyguQPhkVdqJgz-NyrbPZ7PiAIaoPgegOBnpxcNI_6T7Tr3L5dNnWJHyTVi8zt_QXvCRhnvszn7fhb3dD0Tg/s320/1003111441.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>We miss you, and I know we all missed having cake today. But we'll have one for you on Friday night, and if there is a god in heaven, these children will be well rested for your return, and all we'll have to show for their rotten eggs is this blog post.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oVVlARYxT_I2qNNq-abO1qGy0oe9NMPR7lrxcmnUoRRwq4DJXI9jPaskBba4KsjHUZFJLNASQeWODGXuTMir2N350_I6EWE12MNL9NcdVIkKYWXpuqNxaK3qjM3eqz63No5MF19dOQ/s1600/1003111032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oVVlARYxT_I2qNNq-abO1qGy0oe9NMPR7lrxcmnUoRRwq4DJXI9jPaskBba4KsjHUZFJLNASQeWODGXuTMir2N350_I6EWE12MNL9NcdVIkKYWXpuqNxaK3qjM3eqz63No5MF19dOQ/s320/1003111032.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Griffin carrying Quinn's vest for me</span></td></tr>
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Love,<br />
<br />
Your WifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-45657074685815851592011-09-28T06:52:00.000-07:002011-09-28T06:52:34.803-07:00One Morning in Maine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjW2Iz_VgFePYQ5a3WLh4_zloRvITskalngeTGFjnrbZvXfG9CpXF51enCVnTN17ZZhu3Kgfs7UPEhXBHRuyReCV1nJLN0AxistOA9WN8zcWlrKfB9pmYjpDALx-6GW_HlUjECnkD3w/s1600/bucksharborcloseup.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjW2Iz_VgFePYQ5a3WLh4_zloRvITskalngeTGFjnrbZvXfG9CpXF51enCVnTN17ZZhu3Kgfs7UPEhXBHRuyReCV1nJLN0AxistOA9WN8zcWlrKfB9pmYjpDALx-6GW_HlUjECnkD3w/s320/bucksharborcloseup.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bucks Harbor, seen from Smalls Cove</td></tr>
</tbody></table>What day of the week is it when you and your entire family have been awake for 3 hours and it is only 8:15 in the morning? In this household, any given day of the week.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Last week I decided that I would get some quiet time by hook or by crook, and that the best way to do that would be to set an alarm to wake up before Quinn. The alarm has to be for 5am, based on Quinn's vacation habit of waking up at 5:45. Quinn, either through his own determination or with the assistance of his pet gremlins, has managed to see to it that no matter when I leave bed, he wakes up 15 minutes later. He comes bombing out of the bedroom, eyes closed to the lamp I have on, hair pointing in 42 different directions and yelling, "Good Morning Mom!". The last part might be what ensures us the company of Griffin 15 minutes later. </div><br />
It is no mean feat to have all of your family up before first light, especially here in the easternmost tip of the United States. I'm on my 2nd cup of coffee, a rare amount of caffeine for me these days, and beside me on the couch, Quinn has the nerve to be yawning. My Personal Charm Meter is reading <em>Low</em>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_9LVp7TncWzK5PZWKwIBxrjdVAl8O3odGCh6ShCfdu1I-BTHyk2QYn5PdGEszWZ682pUSxtDhA3hWMrTCFgXDEiSAus1jziilC5KLD7KX9CEGucenf7kOkgQMAkQfKK7Anf0dbv4eQ/s1600/pineisland.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_9LVp7TncWzK5PZWKwIBxrjdVAl8O3odGCh6ShCfdu1I-BTHyk2QYn5PdGEszWZ682pUSxtDhA3hWMrTCFgXDEiSAus1jziilC5KLD7KX9CEGucenf7kOkgQMAkQfKK7Anf0dbv4eQ/s320/pineisland.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indian Point</td></tr>
</tbody></table>To glean some benefit from our cranky early morning, I decided to get my exercise by taking a sunrise walk instead of heading into Machias for a swim at the University pool. The tide was obligingly low, and the air was so brisk I put on sweatpants and my Dad's fashionable red and black buffalo check wool shirt. I like to look the part when I'm in Maine.<br />
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The road we live on is relatively short. A few minutes to the right takes us past the Salmon plant and dead ends at Bucks Harbor, a picturesque working harbor full of fishing boats, or small dories anchored where the lobster boats will be when they come home. Big on beauty, short on cardio. A few minutes to the left gives you the chance to walk past a bait company, 5 or 6 fisherman's homes, a signifant amount of bait containers stashed into the woods, and then finally onto a balsam-scented dirt road. Bait containers are very good for my workout, as I have to get past them as quickly as possible. The smell is, well, indescribable. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWb1sdYEdrnYLlIy6BlPC3f6caqdWmgnLj_MVCzn5QftS3kWlX1W2urI-25T4QGiQo1Ysod45zlKLcdzd7898cYyVau3QyqpmjcuCTnsLhVYuik4qUCoV1ZSPapc_Yna0yVgQnnCjhhw/s1600/Sandbar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWb1sdYEdrnYLlIy6BlPC3f6caqdWmgnLj_MVCzn5QftS3kWlX1W2urI-25T4QGiQo1Ysod45zlKLcdzd7898cYyVau3QyqpmjcuCTnsLhVYuik4qUCoV1ZSPapc_Yna0yVgQnnCjhhw/s320/Sandbar.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking toward home on the sandbar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This morning instead of walking on the road, I went across the street, down the steep and muddy footpath and out into Smalls Cove. We do not own the beach, but we're fortunate that access by the footpath is protected as an ancient clammer's path. The cove contains a large amount of soft shell clams, and most days of the week we see the trucks of one or two clammers parked near the path entrance. <br />
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I am slightly intimidated by these people. We have waved to one man, and one woman, both in their late 50s, or early 60s. They work as quiet competitors on opposite ends of the cove, bent over at a 90 degree angle, digging their clamming rakes into the heavy wet clay. My aching back muscles are humbled into silence when we watch them. They fill their wooden clam baskets that they then drag behind them on a mud sled. Walking through wet clay in big rubber waders alone is a formidable task, and these people do it dragging their muddy catch and supplies behind them. Some clammers then park their sleds on the mud, anchored with giant rocks, to be hidden under the next high tide, and ready for their return at the next low. It is grueling, unpredictable work, and unavailable to them if the tide should go out, say, at 10pm. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48JwIX3HznSIEV4myfuhBoZufuLt-njK3hi803QLwBB5ZDyHtZYqyqI2WP723OSGgSSazZkjREbqpL_LF-eHAyFyWLwP_PhCjKz73dv78RsCrcYMfTI9jd4102VMjt29QDUqI9E3ThQ/s1600/bucksharbor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48JwIX3HznSIEV4myfuhBoZufuLt-njK3hi803QLwBB5ZDyHtZYqyqI2WP723OSGgSSazZkjREbqpL_LF-eHAyFyWLwP_PhCjKz73dv78RsCrcYMfTI9jd4102VMjt29QDUqI9E3ThQ/s320/bucksharbor.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bucks Harbor</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
But today I was the only human on the beach. Walking east out into the cove at sunrise meant that I needed to keep eyes to the ground, which was just as well because the receeding tide had left the rocks covered in slippery seaweed. It really is an extraordinary cove. As the tide pulls out, a perfect footpath of rocks and shells stands about 3' above the muddy cove floor. It winds its way over half a mile, out to a pine-covered island. Because of a low point on the path, dry walking access occurs during a short window. We have miscalculated the tide in the past and walked home in wet sneakers as a consequence.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxUKj1mCJ9r2xpnPBMwafbSvjJi5b8ytSU1eZk9myx0NKnmQYDskSmJ9bdvRjc1exHEYisTldK2d1v2PYeFbaYFenl9sxmbIOlzpaKK-pqiSACySCyNjJrCDuaMY6v1hB-UJzltLiLQ/s1600/wherethecormorantwas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxUKj1mCJ9r2xpnPBMwafbSvjJi5b8ytSU1eZk9myx0NKnmQYDskSmJ9bdvRjc1exHEYisTldK2d1v2PYeFbaYFenl9sxmbIOlzpaKK-pqiSACySCyNjJrCDuaMY6v1hB-UJzltLiLQ/s320/wherethecormorantwas.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the cormorant was</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The edge of the beach, like so much of this area, is dotted with wild apple trees. It is against the law in Maine to cut down an apple tree, out of regard for the food they provide the wildlife. Our own property has 3 or 4 trees on it, none of them particularly palatable to me but fine for, say, deer and porcupine. Along the beach, piles of old apples sit just below the trees, and some of them bob out on the tide, making a lovely picture of autumn on the Maine coast.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql0_d_uEvRUrBtrbx65FCxQsu5O7jjObGfyNBTfWzXGi45vqvveFNyhkBLvkfgf93hKYpHsRWFlJiqkx24ikA69eFj_EvyvMJr8R9aaM6xQ6nipTlbiDLHg0qcnLCrn_Dl5KvwYqi0w/s1600/michaelmasdaisies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql0_d_uEvRUrBtrbx65FCxQsu5O7jjObGfyNBTfWzXGi45vqvveFNyhkBLvkfgf93hKYpHsRWFlJiqkx24ikA69eFj_EvyvMJr8R9aaM6xQ6nipTlbiDLHg0qcnLCrn_Dl5KvwYqi0w/s320/michaelmasdaisies.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michaelmas daisies along the footpath</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I passed a large flock of canada geese who fly in every day as the tide is halfway out. We hear them squawking their way over our house on their way to their dinner. They land in the same part of the cove every day, and we are not sure what it is that they are eating. All of the gulls I passed were peacefully standing or floating facing east. To the right, from Bucks Harbor, I could hear the boats firing up, and the sound of one of their radios coming over the water. I watched a water bird, I believe it was a cormorant, but it could have been a loon. It would disappear under the waves and come up 10' or 15' away. It seems to me that loons typically stay down longer and swim farther, so I believe it was a cormorant. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0bfk9L2Cv8xYRmob81ALq0eHKwmohNuR8pazWbFMRvvfzRuT6b6eriUf-3qbNaxx-LddgFMJiKGNKDXCeGArYXmlgnnyFLQiRtfykBlhg-un_ytPrEHmm79HJEOr5A5JhlD402KP9A/s1600/abigail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0bfk9L2Cv8xYRmob81ALq0eHKwmohNuR8pazWbFMRvvfzRuT6b6eriUf-3qbNaxx-LddgFMJiKGNKDXCeGArYXmlgnnyFLQiRtfykBlhg-un_ytPrEHmm79HJEOr5A5JhlD402KP9A/s320/abigail.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Birthday Girl, 5 minutes ago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The pine trees on the islands, the water, the brisk morning air, it was all so lovely. I could have stayed longer, but the 2nd lowest portion of the path was shrinking, so I decided to turn and head for home. <br />
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Before I did, I took advantage of the cell signal which we strangely have in <em>spades</em> in the middle of the cove, but none of at home. Today my darling niece Abigail turns 13 years old. I would scold her for all this endless growing up, but I'm so interested to see who she becomes next, I can hold my tongue. I called to wish her a happy birthday.<br />
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Two days ago I would have paid a king's ransom to get Quinn to take a nap, but he and his gremlins thwarted me. Today, no nap for Quinn or his damn gremlins. I want this child begging to go to bed at 7:30, and sleeping for 12 hours in a row. Wish me luck.<br />
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Best -<br />
<br />
SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-54267156320446103872011-09-25T14:57:00.000-07:002011-09-25T15:01:42.214-07:00Our Days in Maine<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TF3QsPSMuuxVrx1gNFXFso1XiDAMSGIsVCU6XBcU_Qbkpv6KtS1svmTfv5v9bsgq0_14CsW5CQhYeYw1YTzmAmKqxEq8n1KjWaqLDmLCcobeHB-BNiPCuQlyooCj7cHA1Ezyzw4WSQ/s1600/kennebec3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TF3QsPSMuuxVrx1gNFXFso1XiDAMSGIsVCU6XBcU_Qbkpv6KtS1svmTfv5v9bsgq0_14CsW5CQhYeYw1YTzmAmKqxEq8n1KjWaqLDmLCcobeHB-BNiPCuQlyooCj7cHA1Ezyzw4WSQ/s320/kennebec3.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall color is beginning</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Two days of fog and intermittent rain have lifted, and we have a gorgeous blue-sky day of 77 degrees. The leaves have begun to change, and the apples are coming into season now (including some tart varieties in our back yard!). Chris & Dad watched the Patriots lose this afternoon, and before I left for my swim this afternoon I put spaghetti sauce in the crock pot. We are having a good day!<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Since I last posted, I've celebrated my 41st birthday. My Dad was here and my sister Elizabeth drove up from New Hampshire. As a happy bonus surprise our beloved cousin Sallie drove up for the night from Camden, ME, and our old family friends Bob & Barb Frazier drove down from Lubec. Put them all together, add a Whoopie Pie cake and boom - you've got a birthday party. It was really great, and I received lots of charming and thoughtful gifts and cards from near and far.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jTYfJaT7ebJHOpioY0_v1FIdKbKKvn0bxwMQNp0S8o0e0ICGI2NrVKuYCQjtwYfGpBpO-9BovyH4SokYaPErFoiKxRz4tFWIK4Z41IWJKFwRHwN1XfnWPQow_YQ4R_HN48GV9Blp5w/s1600/quoddylight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jTYfJaT7ebJHOpioY0_v1FIdKbKKvn0bxwMQNp0S8o0e0ICGI2NrVKuYCQjtwYfGpBpO-9BovyH4SokYaPErFoiKxRz4tFWIK4Z41IWJKFwRHwN1XfnWPQow_YQ4R_HN48GV9Blp5w/s320/quoddylight.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At West Quoddy Light in Lubec, ME</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Chris has had one business trip since we arrived. He had to fly out of Bangor, a 2 hour drive from our house. As you all surely know, we often wonder if we could ever spend a full year living up here in most eastern Maine. Business trips are always one of the sticky wickets. This one became a bit of a nail biter when his flight was delayed. You miss your flight in Bangor, you are hosed. If you're not familiar with this area because you're related to me, then the only reason you've ever heard of Bangor International is because its where they land airplanes from Europe when they have mechanical trouble or people lighting their explosive shoes on board . He made it, but we learned that he needs to leave himself more margin when flying to Texas from so far away.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />
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While we were in Bangor, the boys and I had a great time visiting a historic Transportation museum, and the Bangor Children's Discovery Center. I could live in Bangor, it is <em>such</em> a charming city. And hardly anyone wants to live there because it is as close to the north pole as you can get without being in Canada, so I have to think property values are low. Also, in the Did You Know department, Bangor Maine Public Library has the highest circulation per capita of any library in the United States in a town over 30,000. As in, either they have 3 books or THESE PEOPLE LOVE TO READ. If I find a similar statistic about cupcake consumption, I'm packing my bags and yelling, "THESE ARE MY PEOPLE!". Forwarding address to follow.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmkGYDH4vYCJxgLOAgt7-fTmoVV9pCap3v9aZuJTuLwkItVDcm7wI0XhVcPm1rENjL1KEuojdrkGR3DqK6kJyBQtWOJbvciZeQCp6dnaqft6rWkw17feqIZZav-CE7Xnskt2_nH3bBA/s1600/boysroquesbluff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmkGYDH4vYCJxgLOAgt7-fTmoVV9pCap3v9aZuJTuLwkItVDcm7wI0XhVcPm1rENjL1KEuojdrkGR3DqK6kJyBQtWOJbvciZeQCp6dnaqft6rWkw17feqIZZav-CE7Xnskt2_nH3bBA/s320/boysroquesbluff.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roques Bluff State Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div>I woke up this morning and laid in bed staring out the window. Without my glasses on, I couldn't be sure what I was seeing, but it seemed that one of the branches of a spruce tree was twitching, and losing chunks of itself. I put on my glasses, and could tell that it was the work of a hidden squirrel, and that the chunks were small closed pine cones he was hurling to earth. When he moved to a new more heavily-laden branch I ran for the boys, and we all sat and watched him rain down a steady stream of pine cones. It must have been a two handed job, those babies weren't falling, he was chucking them, but good.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Kennebec road, going home</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering into Machias, ME</td></tr>
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We have settled into a very pleasant and relaxing rythmn here. Any day without rain starts with coffee on the deck. Chris has started leaving the house to go work downtown at Dunkin' Donuts, where he has Wi-Fi <em>and</em> cell reception. We typically shop for our meals every day or every other day, since we are always in town once a day, anyway. I would never attempt this in McKinney, where any given grocery store occupies enough acreage for a single visit to constitute a legitimate workout, whether you need 1 or 20 items. The grocery store here is so nicely sized, and so well stocked, it is no problem to visit daily. We also have a natural foods store here that has all of the organic staples we need. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate in Lubec</td></tr>
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<div>We have managed to visit all of our favorite haunts at least once. Most of these involve food. There is a new donut shop called the Town Fryer, and he makes fantastic raised honey donuts. While Elizabeth was here we had lunch at the Bluebird Family Restaurant, one of the two dueling Family Restaurants that straddle Route 1. We chose to align with the Bluebird when the other one, Helen's, served me Chicken Parmesan fried into a sphere and topped with cheddar cheese.<br />
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We've eaten at our friends Matt &Faye's restaurant, the Fat Cat Deli, once. They make great pizza. We've hit one of the Lubec chocolate shops, spent copious amounts on chocolates, dubbed it so-so and now must return to spend more at the <em>other</em> chocolate shop. It's a hardship. <br />
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We are at once sad and grateful that our friends Ed and Diane are no longer making their fabulous bread in Lubec. That's about 2,000 calories per week we can now redistribute to the Town Fryer and other haute cuisine. </div><br />
In a lengthy discussion of food on the coast of Maine, one might expect the mention of seafood. There, I mentioned it. <br />
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My father leaves tomorrow morning to spend the week farther north in Maine with some friends. He will be back at the end of the week. The boys and I have been to the pool at U Maine Machias many times, so I imagine we will do that this week, maybe visit Lubec again for the yarn shop, and then Chris and I celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary on Thursday. I am still working on the babysitting factor there, hoping we can at least grab a quiet dinner together.<br />
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XOXOXO<br />
Sarah <br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghRloLt6gzkEZH5XFYrxBfrkiu13xVErwBaFTEvdl6lIKh9oTBEQJ-3yTtVuQURpONMTBkUiXITGWV31cFTn2l2POpk-BMiRDwj74U2Ca6Z6cW862KApgIZydvcwFl2VE4PCKFDGhdZw/s1600/kennebec.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghRloLt6gzkEZH5XFYrxBfrkiu13xVErwBaFTEvdl6lIKh9oTBEQJ-3yTtVuQURpONMTBkUiXITGWV31cFTn2l2POpk-BMiRDwj74U2Ca6Z6cW862KApgIZydvcwFl2VE4PCKFDGhdZw/s320/kennebec.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TF3QsPSMuuxVrx1gNFXFso1XiDAMSGIsVCU6XBcU_Qbkpv6KtS1svmTfv5v9bsgq0_14CsW5CQhYeYw1YTzmAmKqxEq8n1KjWaqLDmLCcobeHB-BNiPCuQlyooCj7cHA1Ezyzw4WSQ/s1600/kennebec3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TF3QsPSMuuxVrx1gNFXFso1XiDAMSGIsVCU6XBcU_Qbkpv6KtS1svmTfv5v9bsgq0_14CsW5CQhYeYw1YTzmAmKqxEq8n1KjWaqLDmLCcobeHB-BNiPCuQlyooCj7cHA1Ezyzw4WSQ/s320/kennebec3.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of our new fall color</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-82277492648124409102011-09-09T07:04:00.000-07:002011-09-09T07:55:08.580-07:00Sun!<div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650362953980141794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FR57CiUEYfX-Wy1Zz9CpGL-ePeQvzvIXGL_qXTtiC81CbU98hg4N5cNu_Pl-KhNGwj3634VuqfMZsvajgvJBaDgp9MLuldNL44O3etTK4KQnlY0G0LdZOZnUCqRYiBXiZ4sE9N5osA/s320/IMG_0319.jpg" />It has been a couple of weeks since I last posted. I'm going to go in reverse order, posting today about Maine, and later on about the close of this recent segment in New Hampshire. I have some great pics from the Milford, NH Labor Day parade that I'm eager to post. Next week.<br /><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650363873533476498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2tIaThTVAt_d6wj_-fBA2tiTXTBUQfKQkJvZplF6j3IGQp2GYpwNJHkmw4pbrwY1riWe78mB_d6D5UFotwAF1UR1ctv95CnvV3vrCmAvQ0JSTT_-m-_VM9R1V4Pe4aP97U_IR_bV0g/s320/IMG_0325.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>We arrived in Maine on Tuesday, 9/7. We left Deering under rainy skies and hit sunny skies somewhere halfway up the coast. Our home in Machiasport is 350 miles from both my Dad's home and the home we lived in when we were building this house, in Grafton, Massachusetts. We spent a solid 2 years driving up and down the coast during construction, and so we have a set routine in place. We stop at the same locations we've been stopping at for years, eat the same food, and pick up the same dinner for our first night in the house. It was great to be doing all of that again, having been gone for 2 years.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650368856487270834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3suYduKSt9VUIAAmepZVG55H607OOu8fCLdIimG_uYKQ1MkvzFDVjGJm-9MU5musRFLnpATLCevh9ZEZy0zyyklfeQYoxm9mMDsPMCLKvWha9JLdYFIKFSe33S1d0XBROX745E5TrjA/s320/IMG_0324.jpg" />The house looks amazing. We've been very fortunate to have a fantastic lady taking care of it while we are away. She arranges everything lovingly, and keeps it perfectly clean. This is only our 3rd trip to New England since we moved to Texas in 2006. Every time we come back to Maine we are amazed at what a beautiful home we all built. Nearly 60 groups of people have rented this house in that time. We put a guest book in 2 years ago, it was fun to go through it and read the impressions of the renters. We had a builder we all loved, Dad & Chris put a lot of their own elbow grease into the construction, and I spent 2 years decorating it on a dime. We did good.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNltw0AdbZUrbzVjtiEyBAeNMBaqQ260iXjj_WuUhYsVclzTydXdYRbdU5ZNbPKda4pRnLfn44t8RtEJA1q1xcI6TE1fZZCx8lm3Py2ZOGwki_1HFGkEIBLZFjnZxeMbBEbzWvRrtsA/s1600/IMG_0298.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650365725908118098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNltw0AdbZUrbzVjtiEyBAeNMBaqQ260iXjj_WuUhYsVclzTydXdYRbdU5ZNbPKda4pRnLfn44t8RtEJA1q1xcI6TE1fZZCx8lm3Py2ZOGwki_1HFGkEIBLZFjnZxeMbBEbzWvRrtsA/s320/IMG_0298.jpg" /></a><br />We have had two days of rain and Chris had to hit the ground running with work. The cove in front of the house is a tidal flat. So, what you're looking out to changes with the tides. We arrived during my #1 favorite tidal sequence. High tide at breakfast and at dinner time, low tide in the afternoon, perfect for hiking out on the sandbar. Griffin and I went nearly all the way out to the island yesterday, and came home with bags of clam and periwinkle shells, which I use for making wreaths. It was grey, but still beautiful.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>The field on our property has grown up considerably, so Dad is bringing up his brush hog next week, and Chris is going to give all of the land a good cut down. I like the meadow as a meadow, but several odd bushes are moving in, threatening to stay. We have about 25 giant spruce and blue spruce trees on the land. Chris and I marvel at how much they have grown. I used to see the water out the back from my perch in bed. Two trees have now spread so wide that I can only see a glimmer of the tidal creek. I do not mind, though. These spruce trees are 50' high, and have always looked like guardians to me. They stand encircling the back of the house, and are shaped like massive Christmas trees. They will all stay. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MuLW82wncUWZy9fMFlMbmwTM2NFhvOiA70nRieeS7_VVBOcEAe6FbE-GPbmIxs3YWk1gYYRSQGAFscGeGVu_ezqG2zB6fumwLtmutBMrWF6YiKcNaBsnGnKhRZ5bEflU4xsp_Uw0CA/s1600/IMG_0323.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650368850691919858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MuLW82wncUWZy9fMFlMbmwTM2NFhvOiA70nRieeS7_VVBOcEAe6FbE-GPbmIxs3YWk1gYYRSQGAFscGeGVu_ezqG2zB6fumwLtmutBMrWF6YiKcNaBsnGnKhRZ5bEflU4xsp_Uw0CA/s320/IMG_0323.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>The beach roses along the deck have gone bananas. They are covered in ripe red rosehips, which I intend to use to make rosehip jelly. Chris will trim them back next week so that they stop assaulting people walking up the stairs.</div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Chris is working today and I hope to get down to the University of Maine Machias for a swim in their indoor pool. We also hope to get together with our builder's wife, Carlene, and their two granddaughers. We have 5 gorgeous days of 67 and sunny in front of us. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Wish you were here!<br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRnZVJmaqMOaZRXAgZcuumf8BBF66IfP_kJ17XkH1kw-UFtyAbOTiKNhJ6LiNhIAuYWsuATjQzdmGZn9KFDf5XmKZf-OTPSIkNbB1sdAYxXiduA9fQZ5bRM4Vr65ng-Oz0oObMNZrrHg/s1600/IMG_0326.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 348px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650368846116309586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRnZVJmaqMOaZRXAgZcuumf8BBF66IfP_kJ17XkH1kw-UFtyAbOTiKNhJ6LiNhIAuYWsuATjQzdmGZn9KFDf5XmKZf-OTPSIkNbB1sdAYxXiduA9fQZ5bRM4Vr65ng-Oz0oObMNZrrHg/s320/IMG_0326.jpg" /></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-5112435658272286562011-08-28T15:11:00.000-07:002011-08-28T15:41:41.643-07:00Goodbye, Irene<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQ1MUAEWjz2yE1G6hlPh_wayM9k74u2gb4alPrBt4gFyS2srjLqoKazyKTF089KREDI8okYjncBijl4u8d8Ufjozw4nHxoxzaIS4sxifwBZR2KBXstfx0LI_HLLLsuHMGv4_8FcXfMA/s320/irene2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646038662540018210" />I didn't want to buy into the hurricane hype, but last night I began to get swept up in the excitement of the oncoming storm. The clouds looked stormy, there were ominous rumbles of thunder. I pictured wind lashing trees, rain pounding the roof, comforting my frightened prairie boys. But it was not to be.<div>
<br /></div><div>The rain started gently, with no wind. The rain began to get harder, and then the rain died down, and that was Hurricane Irene, as felt inland in NH. I counted 4 thrilling gusts of wind, and that was that. Nevertheless, our power managed to go out at 10:30. Quinn and I had already gotten into the spirit of the occasion and were reading library books on the living room floor. It was dark, so we lit candles to cheer things up. We made popcorn and hot cocoa, thanks to Dad's gas stove, and we read some more. Inspired by one of our books, <u>Lucy's Christmas</u> by Donald Hall, Griffin decided to make paper chains to decorate the dining room.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Dad went outside to work on the generator, then went to town for parts for said generator. I think he had to spend about 3 1/2 hours working on it, but we were grateful because by 4:00 we had lamplight. Dad, Griffin and I watched a movie and charged our various devices while Quinn napped. Then I felt a strong wind, thought things had finally gotten exciting, but it was only the fan coming back on with the electricity. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I have never experienced life on a generator before. When I was a child, my favorite thing about a day without power was the silence, and the contrast of the power coming on. We don't notice how loud our refrigerators are, until we take a break from them.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Well, a generator is the diametric opposite of that lovely quiet experience. It is like living with a lawn mower on your front porch. If there are any chipmunks left on the side of this mountain, I would be amazed. Any wildlife worth its salt should have run for the hills.<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgU1lXvCGFhrKMxftZ1C2g5U0EhGNDc2pN58wktO9mZg1KA1j3vROqnd6vU7tFz95SlHQASGDYAldpaKwj7L9CjMe9HPbMvVoHbnApcx5pIkj55M11vj2_E5EUskpGihHtInijHjlYQ/s320/irene1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646039196597806802" /><div>
<br /></div><div>As I type this, WW3 has erupted in the living room, centered on a property dispute involving Legos. Grampa has run to McDonald's for dinner, which seems as exciting to my boys (who have lived near 3 for the past 5 years) as it was to my sibs and I, who saw one nary once a month, if that. McDonald's is always a thrill.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Love</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sarah </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-65993869271379962282011-08-19T14:36:00.000-07:002011-08-19T15:16:25.110-07:00Pics<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc8WaXQWzV2lJilmvoKSZqXgKQYWAZovUmpl3efnZfkxbuOeMJIvVR_9BanYLDId5J2Ay7y7_HqHkxUXT76rec_szxNufZwUfhClcOz18iGaz0yftsN7YRJbjS3y2bUGDBnCj6gyWmA/s1600/P1250477.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><b><i>
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<br /></span></a><div><div>It's Friday, and neither Dad nor I want to cook. We're all headed to Bennington for some fine dining at Bat's Italian Restaurant. I love it, because I've been going there since I was 6. Also, because it is located next to a dam, and has no compunctions about using the slogan, "Best Food by a Dam Site". You gotta respect that. Lastly, some of my favorite, "I can't take you anywhere" lectures happened there as a child, along with my father's counterpoint lessons on how to lick your plate clean in public after eating spumoni ice cream. I don't know if it's on any Zaggat's "Culinary Highlights of NH" lists, but I love it. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixifTezs9kcPVXYbFbloSSLKACJfOWRVR3ijHujXMRdoJ-EcxvOowKk5OKQ53kz-XDyVx50uVkIk5rxHuyLYP5F7T55k08rEuh9x9nfWUPUjP5cf89ayLiitI1ZXpnDXofMGwmwuOLpA/s320/hopcem.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642690768651607474" /></div><div>We also visited the Hopkinton Cemetery, c.1765, in search of the grave of the Revolutionary War soldier who they say fired the Shot Heard Round the World. We didn't find anyone marked as such, and unfortunately any google searches on the topic only bring up the time that Michelle Bachmann congratulated New Hampshire on being the state where it happened. Which is ok, because that was awesome.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>This afternoon we went to the lake and saw a loon, and also one of those birds that dives underwater a long way to get fish. One of the two is pictured here in his pontoon boat, which was blaring, "Please Come to Boston" (you know, she's the #1 Fan of the Man from Tennessee) as it puttered along the shore. As he got farther away, I think I heard enough to conclude that he was listening to Time Life's "Singer/Songwriter's of the 70s" collection, which should make me like him more cause I own it. But I'm pretty sure there is a law about blaring anything other than James Taylor on a pine-fringed New Hampshire lake in August. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Our friend Cooper accompanied us to the lake. He and Griffin found several abandoned fish hooks (yay for water shoes) and rigged up a makeshift pole, pictured here. Another boy helped them out by finding a slug in the woods, which, along with half of the hook, was promptly consumed by something under the water. It was very exciting.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Happy Weekend!</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Love,</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sarah & the littlest Dedmon boys.</div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRUWiqL5xmKpEPwwAWfro9IJ9llq3SByovkufZsWwuLHO1ATP96u2EId7u2FjSMpoXqkbpbOYCF-8JOMexwE8ab1GSyz-brZvvpCDig1St7mYCbcUuNQPJ3vwgjTTlwPE33Zpjk2Luw/s1600/P1250449.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRUWiqL5xmKpEPwwAWfro9IJ9llq3SByovkufZsWwuLHO1ATP96u2EId7u2FjSMpoXqkbpbOYCF-8JOMexwE8ab1GSyz-brZvvpCDig1St7mYCbcUuNQPJ3vwgjTTlwPE33Zpjk2Luw/s320/P1250449.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642691504003306338" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4VVODLCxDHXa3YYxwVUnKDigwN8pj-U2CAOQSS41fh3-12VVei9p5fG8lFQktjuygayVYFmu2mSV-lPQ0cBs_HIyvs0A3XlIMtQEsHbTl94lhVaya_UyIjBRIjS-kjeLv-hI9aYMdQ/s320/P1250472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642686996245294482" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div><div>
<br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7y7E_TLpDZ54ukfHcpW-9HUuuqTdu5lEbz93wkL5rNKR3piGDMqKpprNhh0iOCEoMlOz85GH7QtgLNmANvKKA20fkz7CFMmY4gPzuPx-jhyphenhyphen3A82ZCAod6qhjbVotzLre5vwpIHi2sYA/s320/pontoon+boat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642687662326566402" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; " /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULT8WgnNc5FV7MXf9AvbONgOLevIzo9Brye12pBfpaZn7oJD1dJKPKWrTviYY9GKFl4yTdaEpv53ejIFtgsfwRZJtO8SqxZLFZqj_KAPYoUq4W5cbP_RRvWH-lB4yKAAqPmyZZbwiHg/s1600/boysfishing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULT8WgnNc5FV7MXf9AvbONgOLevIzo9Brye12pBfpaZn7oJD1dJKPKWrTviYY9GKFl4yTdaEpv53ejIFtgsfwRZJtO8SqxZLFZqj_KAPYoUq4W5cbP_RRvWH-lB4yKAAqPmyZZbwiHg/s320/boysfishing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642686990972601122" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgtwRWLyXjL1YSqtWH6MrIbBGGKTSSXXMuZbHm2iVMMEsV5Gc3Czb-XKiIv12YnAEdmU0piZO_7BA9RpIc_jw3XVBTQHVhTjn2n6igRSv14zjeqWEBLd9LI4fc8bLzl8Sq99RFMmLtQ/s320/P1250481.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642687668625658754" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">
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<br /></div></div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRUWiqL5xmKpEPwwAWfro9IJ9llq3SByovkufZsWwuLHO1ATP96u2EId7u2FjSMpoXqkbpbOYCF-8JOMexwE8ab1GSyz-brZvvpCDig1St7mYCbcUuNQPJ3vwgjTTlwPE33Zpjk2Luw/s1600/P1250449.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}">
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<br /><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc8WaXQWzV2lJilmvoKSZqXgKQYWAZovUmpl3efnZfkxbuOeMJIvVR_9BanYLDId5J2Ay7y7_HqHkxUXT76rec_szxNufZwUfhClcOz18iGaz0yftsN7YRJbjS3y2bUGDBnCj6gyWmA/s320/P1250477.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642691507638287426" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-51588375520492784492011-08-16T14:20:00.000-07:002011-08-16T15:01:51.130-07:00Rain<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwLzaPKv_pNEVjjA3J3RJWE5phy2B7sU75yaTBFigrLqlv5GzdqELIpSDIUUdHXvk5q903b1JNq2vOZKZ5R1nj3lX1Vs1A27j4A7HM9R9-FEn_dkpjhjYVNH-ACbeYb49zd_zz8pR4w/s1600/GQUmbrellas2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwLzaPKv_pNEVjjA3J3RJWE5phy2B7sU75yaTBFigrLqlv5GzdqELIpSDIUUdHXvk5q903b1JNq2vOZKZ5R1nj3lX1Vs1A27j4A7HM9R9-FEn_dkpjhjYVNH-ACbeYb49zd_zz8pR4w/s320/GQUmbrellas2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641576094382527922" /></a>I'm getting ready to put together a pot of Auntie Jo-Jo's White Chicken Chili. After about 45 days of 100+ degree temps, I had given up on cool weather ever happening again, and had started cooking winter dishes in July. So, we have had this yummy soup recently, but it will be extra special to eat it here in the chilly weather, without the side effect of a full body sweat.<div>
<br /></div><div>This weekend past, Aunt Liz came to visit us, and stayed the night. She has a new car, which I should have photographed. She took us touring all over town, to my favorite yarn shop, and to 2 thrift shops to satisfy Griffin's early addiction to junk. Look out world. On Sunday we met her lovely boyfriend, Jason Parker, and Dad took us all out to dinner at the new Italian restaura</div><div>nt in Hillsboro. Lots of wine, very nice.</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBK4PbB8n7RYLnhm7KT2Frw12BgEtvwCqiJ1O83xZA9TD5SJu5jweUrfEZW5H0eGdhcecjHWeuTs993LkH2CFFuv88hRym7O_x8M-QrbZsB5tGOZkI01ibeB2Oc0Rz0in3NHLgzSq3Hw/s320/quinnrocks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641574058594844322" />
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<br /></div><div>The rain began early on Monday and has carried through until late this afternoon. Because we are still finding our way in Dad's house, it is no easy thing to be cooped up here with two energetic boys. The house *is* full of toys, but think Paul Bunyan, not Lego. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So, we have made forays to a distant grocery store, to Dunkin' Donuts, and several walks out on the lane with umbrellas. All children love having a portable roof in the rain, and this road is great for its small streams and orange salamanders. There are nearly no mosquitoes this year.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Highlights: Playing cards with Quinn on our bed while Dad mashed potatoes from the garden for dinner. Having cinnamon tea and cookies with Griffin while playing Go Fish. Throwing rocks in the marsh at the end of Old County Lane. The boys walking 15' along the rainy road, then yelling out, "Umbrella Fort! Umbrella Fort!", then stopping and making a small house of their 2 umbrellas. Ok, actually, that was a little annoying at first, but once I realized this was not going to be an exercise walk, it was cute.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>The rain stopped this afternoon, and the temps are in the low 60s. Tomorrow we will go along with Dad to an appointment in Contoocook, and then drag him along to the Planetarium or NH History Museum in Concord. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Off to finish making the Chilli -</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhP7R1vnxSTUyNJEmpj8xgAkIKHc4GWQ9IweTLI6J1xZ5VIiQLIqMuC8w9QnYUks8JjiDnJtUGeNmR6YvGCNnVRfCIg3qtriIC8ELO5Bl5xqPnDiyJyVihmzmWwzpWGwBlpfEwMfGOg/s320/boysblocks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641574063648899458" /><div>
<br /></div><div>Love,</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sarah</div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMydgTOiE49BFNA7-xn3H6lRJeoO0xy75t2siwA18_FgFZSeE8N6Rl2EIomEgT4oeHfTOI1w_kOAeH-hq-6P-SNhS36eIZvPdiBM7eeNkoU2qzRFI9-MpNk54vw1ARJUWQ6_NQCyjSg/s320/GQUmbrellaFort.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641574044787601266" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-88826784116913866872011-08-12T06:46:00.001-07:002011-08-12T06:51:22.226-07:00Deering<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAqwXoUqIRNNNKJ2j991w5Xjo8Wi8dYPcuOQAVN9TWHu2C9RvueYhm5H4Gl1WskbmFO1OCwza264gtnmXGYp4nTgIZ73JQ3VNvlFpoF29yrTQym1-RMFF-uubGLHWFK2gCsYO7reTWg/s1600/lake+picnic.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAqwXoUqIRNNNKJ2j991w5Xjo8Wi8dYPcuOQAVN9TWHu2C9RvueYhm5H4Gl1WskbmFO1OCwza264gtnmXGYp4nTgIZ73JQ3VNvlFpoF29yrTQym1-RMFF-uubGLHWFK2gCsYO7reTWg/s320/lake+picnic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639966571504638674" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zRisqhGm5DkU_J2SV49HBAa1evd6LY7R7AR00I4otoTgXVl0PUrk5hfgPGBUCEPVBFeYGKwDI_6OI9YO4hRkvwg_XZpbk8Ih2zXWhpHfmlvTYnuA-EkHn3BqbUXoJw9l-nnBF9KYIw/s1600/veg.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zRisqhGm5DkU_J2SV49HBAa1evd6LY7R7AR00I4otoTgXVl0PUrk5hfgPGBUCEPVBFeYGKwDI_6OI9YO4hRkvwg_XZpbk8Ih2zXWhpHfmlvTYnuA-EkHn3BqbUXoJw9l-nnBF9KYIw/s320/veg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639966292281348978" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF4ERMugqNIg5Hpd_dDRQhzKaDQ2nqKHqDJrYXtx2FOBgz7i45IdnjOHlEEDrQeMTWIa3l4UZMtRBWZrqOlzf1jVRROiFqSN62c6Ftk06Y0ZqbP9SCQNewL-L-lPgNCa_jMvjUsqz4g/s1600/quinn+potato.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF4ERMugqNIg5Hpd_dDRQhzKaDQ2nqKHqDJrYXtx2FOBgz7i45IdnjOHlEEDrQeMTWIa3l4UZMtRBWZrqOlzf1jVRROiFqSN62c6Ftk06Y0ZqbP9SCQNewL-L-lPgNCa_jMvjUsqz4g/s320/quinn+potato.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639966289576365202" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KSej3FecFTnttC-tol8kpCnpR14inT14kmzMVsaHjHsmyNwkeJ1hN_fuEScO6YVa3MWpJEe9QvqXlBin_t9NJ25-zgFKWFcTU9zUSSGd1B1e9U_3ToId1BWy5hpH6lpAKX0bqto2VA/s1600/deering+lake.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KSej3FecFTnttC-tol8kpCnpR14inT14kmzMVsaHjHsmyNwkeJ1hN_fuEScO6YVa3MWpJEe9QvqXlBin_t9NJ25-zgFKWFcTU9zUSSGd1B1e9U_3ToId1BWy5hpH6lpAKX0bqto2VA/s320/deering+lake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639966282925220514" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-OhBboSMgg-3mp6OePu6S3dJxoz64LkjkWhx1u75XIMNed5eqAnPqZRwoYSqRPlaHtVfzmnXKUlUp62b-uWtYWzDLrKQKxKQf0DywMLkH5w8bF9yGHkq7lydTby42tyZuu2Ih0LseA/s1600/deering+lake+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-OhBboSMgg-3mp6OePu6S3dJxoz64LkjkWhx1u75XIMNed5eqAnPqZRwoYSqRPlaHtVfzmnXKUlUp62b-uWtYWzDLrKQKxKQf0DywMLkH5w8bF9yGHkq7lydTby42tyZuu2Ih0LseA/s320/deering+lake+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639966282141858434" /></a>
<br />Just a quick post with some pics from our 1st two days here. The boys and I have been walking every day, we visited our friends down the road, toured our neighbor's new Christmas Tree Farm, picnicked at the lake, dug potatoes from the garden for dinner, and had ice cream at the High Tide.<div>
<br /></div><div>It's 65 degrees right now. Today we will visit Concord for some errands. Among them will be finding some sweatpants and sweatshirts for the boys on these lovely chilly mornings.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Love,</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sarah </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-53146236480912334112011-08-10T14:27:00.001-07:002011-08-10T15:02:21.834-07:00Arrival<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4q8ShOD5HpZc_7kKTc3eWKkXISxZ2x9-HG-VBgikwFSy0QH4N5qkiyrqm_1p-SDI2hKcn5EtwBMQGd4odgdC74HJWmGPIga5avXK7Q_A5I_jD1BFED9AYcF3_VRwwqYuc40ofxMFfg/s1600/Quinn+Tractor+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWaxN9uBq1fEHTxznRtW41wyR6qftykdKrsW3bCFCq1egWW0e3ZkY2Q_T9XXzMlI1ENH4x-_hPoepSshZFcz9mYrtjNqbpgUrdG4ngr-Zs3ye52-kUNw4jkY-LuLybEK1WFfWbQXaNCg/s1600/Griffin+Pear+Tree.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWaxN9uBq1fEHTxznRtW41wyR6qftykdKrsW3bCFCq1egWW0e3ZkY2Q_T9XXzMlI1ENH4x-_hPoepSshZFcz9mYrtjNqbpgUrdG4ngr-Zs3ye52-kUNw4jkY-LuLybEK1WFfWbQXaNCg/s320/Griffin+Pear+Tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639348878360590434" /></a>The boys and I had a lovely trip yesterday, even including the 3 hour delay in Philadelphia. We left Love Field easily at 9:30, after meeting another Mom and 3 year-old who were NH bound on our flights. We stopped in Houston, but did not deplane. Then on the long haul to Philly, Quinn took a nice long nap and I was able to listen to a book and do some needlework. Griffin enjoyed some books and his DS.<div><div>
<br /></div><div>We stuck with our new friends, Sonja and Jackson, while we had our extended Philadelphia layover. Sonja lives in the DFW area now, but comes from Laconia, NH. So, I visited with her, we traded off watching kids, and the time passed quickly. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>While we were boarding we met another family who came from TX but now lives in VT, and Griffin made quick friends with their 9 year-old, Max. They sat together and played DS, Quinn and Jackson sat together and watched Cars, and we did alright. A storm kept us on the plane, on the runway for about an hour and a half. No liquor was served, so Sonja and I deserve a special medal.</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4q8ShOD5HpZc_7kKTc3eWKkXISxZ2x9-HG-VBgikwFSy0QH4N5qkiyrqm_1p-SDI2hKcn5EtwBMQGd4odgdC74HJWmGPIga5avXK7Q_A5I_jD1BFED9AYcF3_VRwwqYuc40ofxMFfg/s320/Quinn+Tractor+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639350629263073010" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;">
<br /></span><div>Grampa hid behind some trees at the airport and jumped out and grabbed Griffin by his backpack, and so we began our time in New Hampshire. I'm going to have him wear a bell so that we can walk in the woods without fear of a repeat Sasquatch impression, like the fateful spring of 1978. Not that Christie and I didn't enjoy that. My cardiologist just thought maybe I should stay away from that kind of fun for a while.</div> <div>
<br /></div><div>This area is Boy Heaven. Grampa's house is like one big attic of tools and cast-offs from the younger Craighead children. Griffin discovered half of a tank (score!) and an old castle this morning. Oh yes, and a mouse skeleton in a mouse trap. They rode on the tractor, picked cherry tomatoes and a few raspberries in the garden. And as I type this, Grampa has taken Griffin off in search of his own corncob pipe. You know, to keep the blackflies away. So, Griffin's transformation to country bumpkin has taken 20 hours.</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5k4CTjkYpOq9rj0lsS0kivkK2NOX76EyH1dxRKCD7e1-U7ymdkhmU6mdTQ7elOoo14d433qVS9pMAvsW1j4jRbrkKKiokFoeNx8vN6Exf7bhTicHkEZ4vXyUnKF0AeYasyyr06yHTXQ/s320/Tractor+Quinn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639349201016108354" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /></div><div>
<br /><div>I'm looking out the window at green as far as the eye can see. The apple trees in the side yard are covered with small apples. The white pine between our house and the Nazer's are towering now. They look about 3x the height of the Nazer's house. The small pine that planted itself on the granite step by the pear and birch is now nearly as tall as the pear tree. You can see it in this picture above of Griffin, holding a pear.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>The light is different here. August in New Hampshire is very soft and pleasant.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Wish you were here!</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Love</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sarah </div><div>
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<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-69536898875041798972011-08-03T07:30:00.000-07:002011-08-03T08:40:03.882-07:00But Who's Counting?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCYbbPl_7-9TFuete4eg7pSd1U7Fd49cvBT3Ab7P8NNuPtNe5j_-iwNLM9hnzOZ6kjG9thJ_LSVxIAE8ERXPYqrAoZejehmYBzKj1fhiB1jvHUzwiWhNjqlpzzpUz0K36pqzl9RMGRQ/s1600/temps.PNG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCYbbPl_7-9TFuete4eg7pSd1U7Fd49cvBT3Ab7P8NNuPtNe5j_-iwNLM9hnzOZ6kjG9thJ_LSVxIAE8ERXPYqrAoZejehmYBzKj1fhiB1jvHUzwiWhNjqlpzzpUz0K36pqzl9RMGRQ/s320/temps.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636652037191073410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">It's not that I don't like the weather in Texas. It's just that I can't stand the weather in Texas.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">This morning it was 54 degrees in New Hampshire, and 98 degrees in my backyard. At 8:15am. These kinds of temps should be the exclusive domain of 17th century men forging iron, and people with names like Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">We will climb to 110 again today. To work around this fact, we stay indoors, or in our car. Indoors is preferable, because the fact is that your car never cools down again after you take it into the sun for more than 12 minutes. Around 4pm, the A/C downstairs starts to think, "Aw hell, what's the point?" and stops reaching for the brass ring of 78 degrees. 80, 81, until the sun goes down and it recovers its will to fight.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">In 6 days, the boys and I will head to Love Field and hop onto one of 3 Southwest Airline flights that will take us to Manchester, New Hampshire. The boys will love the novelty of flying, and I will love the sight of scorched earth disappearing behind the aircraft.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Packing commencing today.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Best -</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Sarah</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-4183431635550839692009-07-23T06:34:00.000-07:002009-07-23T06:39:21.357-07:00Happy Half Birthday Quinn!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJEX-WpMFmKDdNWkC-toDd3iQWUM13Gmu3dJ69sOWdtV0xrRlqqB_0YIqNnFoEndegASn5iaguxdvBiFr_aq8hW9Ed30-nVFPPKM9poCA9rEe5oHveItYaHVmTnOECRRaCLoA1yEldA/s1600-h/P1220009.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJEX-WpMFmKDdNWkC-toDd3iQWUM13Gmu3dJ69sOWdtV0xrRlqqB_0YIqNnFoEndegASn5iaguxdvBiFr_aq8hW9Ed30-nVFPPKM9poCA9rEe5oHveItYaHVmTnOECRRaCLoA1yEldA/s320/P1220009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361649670064081970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtq-9qNtg7q8oxg0XtOCx6Q06U9g-zWxMR4D7KfGlsonTxMf64-82NAAk10fixoTg0YmkI3MdI_Y3iArVuclO8iT1IfS4Ga0ZFPTDKkzlJ8eDex60-8wUiaKkhPk_k0D5I8E3caJ2BQ/s1600-h/P1210902.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtq-9qNtg7q8oxg0XtOCx6Q06U9g-zWxMR4D7KfGlsonTxMf64-82NAAk10fixoTg0YmkI3MdI_Y3iArVuclO8iT1IfS4Ga0ZFPTDKkzlJ8eDex60-8wUiaKkhPk_k0D5I8E3caJ2BQ/s320/P1210902.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361649664640277794" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQI3EdEXr9yxuVR3FDLRhsTnTVZ6r6QdY9uZ11PWtUWivhTc6tuDdYXzBIwrXkx-gDgQUgmVEvQuqDCUv940vZO8addX09oeB89oJCHyCFGTly_VU_XHEVY4HGpjbNxIw1_XyCz0rK7w/s1600-h/P1210841.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQI3EdEXr9yxuVR3FDLRhsTnTVZ6r6QdY9uZ11PWtUWivhTc6tuDdYXzBIwrXkx-gDgQUgmVEvQuqDCUv940vZO8addX09oeB89oJCHyCFGTly_VU_XHEVY4HGpjbNxIw1_XyCz0rK7w/s320/P1210841.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361649659508846402" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6IefYNjkZHNI5xdy7VxuJBk_Yt0n0RFcHKfVVK2pLW-iHguqMFM4XxP9hURb556E1Eh8cW4hJPRi7mUidNY2S22VwV-6JjkS7_YbCS5IG-olld9SWXLMHGOkAseC-hP8CgKP5DIBuQ/s1600-h/P1210815.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6IefYNjkZHNI5xdy7VxuJBk_Yt0n0RFcHKfVVK2pLW-iHguqMFM4XxP9hURb556E1Eh8cW4hJPRi7mUidNY2S22VwV-6JjkS7_YbCS5IG-olld9SWXLMHGOkAseC-hP8CgKP5DIBuQ/s320/P1210815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361649655969431762" /></a><br />Quinn turned 1 1/2 yesterday at 7:54 pm EST. We didn't celebrate as Chris is out of town, but we'll surely have cupcakes when he returns.<div><br /></div><div>Dad and I are taking the munchkins to the Concord Planetarium today and then Abigail has another horseback riding lesson. Here are some recent photos! I have not uploaded in a while!</div><div><br /></div><div>Love,</div><div><br />Sarah</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-63914494724199173882009-07-20T14:31:00.001-07:002009-07-20T14:49:51.002-07:00Hello from NH, again.It has been some time since I've posted, probably nearly back to when our niece Abigail joined us. We have been very very busy! <div><br /></div><div>We spent last week up in Maine as the house had not rented that week. Before we left the last time Chris, Dad and I agreed that this week would be less rigorous. Fewer home projects and long sight-seeing drives, more unscheduled time. Chris took two vacation days at the beginning of the week, and we drove up on Saturday. We even managed to arrive before nightfall, something I think has happened only once before in 5 years of going there.</div><div><br /></div><div>We had a great week, with mostly wonderful weather. We hiked the sandbar several times, and Grampa brought a small trap to put out at low tide. We only emptied it once, and it had captured three small green crabs. Heaven only knows what is in there now, we'll have to check again next week! We took Tuesday to go to Mt. Desert Island again and took the kids hiking on Ocean Drive, which takes you between Sand Beach and Thunder Hole down to Otter Point. It is a very busy hike but the views are fabulous and the rocks are really fun for the kids to scramble on. We hit Bar Harbor for dinner and some shopping (candy) and went home. I'm sad to say that all three adults were pretty much racked the entire next day from over-exertion. What it says that Chris and I were as spent as my 67 year old Father, well, he should feel pretty good about but I'm questioning myself. Gillie also loved the hike.</div><div><br /></div><div>We came back here on this past Saturday and it looks like we're headed up yet again next weekend. We just can't bear to let a week languish when we work so hard for that wonderful spot! However we did resolve to hire a cleaning crew to come in when we leave, rather than pack, clean the house from stem to stern, then drive 350 miles in one day. I think that will be money well spent. We were all exhausted on Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, Sunday was a glorious day, beautiful weather. Griffin and Abigail and I headed into the woods in the morning to pillage a small garbage dump there. We came home with some lovely pieces of broken blue pottery and a nice collection of bottles. They are all arrayed on the lawn until I figure out how best to clean them. Then we went down below the garden with Dad and picked two quarts of raspberries and ate lord knows how many, they were perfection for breakfast. After that I took all three kids and walked down the hill to see Leslie at Spinner Farm. When we were growing up her land was just a field, part of John Snow's farm. But it has since been divided and her portion is a horse and sheep farm. Naturally I am very excited about this. I can now purchase Alpaca fiber on one side of Clark Summit and Romney roving on the other side! AND she's a spinner, too! Anyway, it was really for the kids, of course, you know I wanted them to see the horses. We spent a good long while down there and they had a blast and we scheduled up some riding lessons, which they took today.</div><div><br />After a long push of the stroller back up Old County Lane, I made lunch from Dad's garden and some remnants of Ed and Diane's bread and some local goat cheese. Excellent. Same harvesting for dinner; a salad with Dad's romaine, radishes, onions and raspberries, also fresh green beans from the garden. The peas are late but should be finished shortly. </div><div><br /></div><div>Griffin is having a great time with Abigail and Abigail is having a semi-great time with Griffin. Of course a 10 year-old can't be expected to get as enthusiastic about a 6 year-old as he is about her, but when left to their own devices they seem to find ways to have fun together. Both my boys make moon-y eyes at her, they adore her.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have our Griswold's Family Vacation moments, to be sure. I seem to be enjoying wine a lot more lately. It is amazing how much Practice Makes Perfect with the drinking, huh? Luckily I have a natural breaker which is complete exhaustion. More than 1 glass and I'm asleep at the table :).</div><div><br /></div><div>Chris flies out to CO and CA tomorrow, returns Friday. Dad and I have some museums in Concord to take the kids to, then on Wednesday we are going to do Boston.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wish you were here!</div><div><br /></div><div>Love,</div><div><br />Sarah </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-10116686215221349902009-07-04T06:04:00.001-07:002009-07-04T06:13:25.977-07:00Hello from Sunny New Hampshire!We arrived here at Dad's house two days ago. Getting out of Maine was a tribulation on par with something usually reserved for bad Egyptians. All we needed to round it out was some kind of locust plague. We worked for 7 hours straight to pack up the stuff we brought and to clean, then we departed Machias at 2:30, stopped to visit with Alan until 3:30, and arrived in Deering after Midnight. I imagine the pilgrims arrived at Plymouth looking a little more refreshed than we did.<br /><br />But the good news is that the sun has been seen in these parts for two days running now. And there have been no snake sightings inside Dad's house. Yesterday we went for a walk down to visit Suzanne and her boys, then we went to Concord where, despite Dad's efforts to stop me I purchased more candy from the Granite State Candy Shop. Also bagels from Bagel Works, and then we went out to dinner across from the State Capitol. Griffin was feeling a little punkish so while we waited for the food he and I took a little self-guided historic tour around the State House. FYI You NH folks the Time Capsule is scheduled to be opened 6/7/15. Wanna be here for it? <br /><br />We left Gillie in the house, she managed to lock herself into the green room and then try to chew her way out. Gillie is a love, but she cannot be accused of above-average intelligence. We have some door reconstruction to do now.<br /><br />So today we might mosey down to Suzanne's as she has rented a post-hole digger machine to put in the posts for her Alpaca field. We're going to climb clark summit and we're cooking out for the 4th. Liz is coming over and we're grilling steaks and veggies, and I'm making homemade strawberry shortcake. We will not see any fireworks here because they're not in Hillsboro until the Carnies come to town next weekend, and because it isn't worth it to me to drive to Concord for them. Unfortunately fireworks of any note are illegal here as well. Of course Dad has like 18 guns so we could make our own, but I've heard of that ending badly so we probably won't.<br /><br />Hope you're going to have a festive 4th!<br /><br />SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-18727018473099674342009-06-24T06:49:00.001-07:002009-06-24T07:27:29.459-07:00An Afternoon in Lubec<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo67ZI7X0IAfsVHXkCbYIb7w2RQK9AEdIKzD3TpCr9IanRt0pGMv_enXY1164JUN1ZCQg38k2MekJRMen7WalFXbLYKmPmIUO8hWUXyIPejOwr23KCmZnS3axXy_3_9b25GM2pZnxXnQ/s1600-h/P1210454.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350899440688863090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo67ZI7X0IAfsVHXkCbYIb7w2RQK9AEdIKzD3TpCr9IanRt0pGMv_enXY1164JUN1ZCQg38k2MekJRMen7WalFXbLYKmPmIUO8hWUXyIPejOwr23KCmZnS3axXy_3_9b25GM2pZnxXnQ/s400/P1210454.JPG" /></a> These are in no particular order. Together with our friend Lauren we went up to Lubec yesterday. We visited Bayside Chocolates and Atlantic House, making our weekly donation in support of Downeast Chocolate production.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEs-vk1yjYapuRz-5nweuyRQQiUlCy4uPIpxCNaAHkxp-5IStYwDkunZnKTEX7V8JgZJmOospDFL6aaV7OR-axxcr9tc8ICI3yA0rJqN42iNz5he-fupEooi4ftY3H2p3cXGtYXHwGNw/s1600-h/P1210430.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350898799108076562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEs-vk1yjYapuRz-5nweuyRQQiUlCy4uPIpxCNaAHkxp-5IStYwDkunZnKTEX7V8JgZJmOospDFL6aaV7OR-axxcr9tc8ICI3yA0rJqN42iNz5he-fupEooi4ftY3H2p3cXGtYXHwGNw/s400/P1210430.JPG" /></a><br />At the Fraziers house Brett and Chris took the 3 Frazier Boys and Griffin out for a walk into the Channel. That's the Channel Light (Sparkplug) in the distance.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21_MS2FtzdqazFeR9alPbDSHIfVDBLbObenFWxUbNHGzdxdSxALi3oClo6vPD22b7yAUMQ5nudNoN49Sqc15Ik9bd2v7BaXokB4UedSOOkIdmWPO6nB-dPe26us4GM-t9BU6W4sM0Zg/s1600-h/P1210437.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350892989265750018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21_MS2FtzdqazFeR9alPbDSHIfVDBLbObenFWxUbNHGzdxdSxALi3oClo6vPD22b7yAUMQ5nudNoN49Sqc15Ik9bd2v7BaXokB4UedSOOkIdmWPO6nB-dPe26us4GM-t9BU6W4sM0Zg/s400/P1210437.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Brett Frazier, as if he needed an introduction.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxgIvFZm7BkGDMpHcd5M-dOt-p8tFB4sQ4paSALggqVuhV2gUweu9AKKHh9l74tzI7uPovQddoMLWKNdg2IadOOfadEdoE6XyySXVVRzeOyy0p3eaScYJl_u4Csutb3CEw328Ko1nug/s1600-h/P1210465.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350892982788759954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxgIvFZm7BkGDMpHcd5M-dOt-p8tFB4sQ4paSALggqVuhV2gUweu9AKKHh9l74tzI7uPovQddoMLWKNdg2IadOOfadEdoE6XyySXVVRzeOyy0p3eaScYJl_u4Csutb3CEw328Ko1nug/s400/P1210465.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Once the boys were done eating dinner at Cohill's (that was the 1st picture), he took them for a walk down by the water.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOTqY5BCZxpf1mxJTZEyq_uMlw0oTr7-xaenmD6kKWKnZmt8WhkTLhf2MptDT23HDQnFAs4KPzxCtobF-lx_p4ptOWaDvT6998YYfS-fqEkxlDGMa8QMOuPEK5aqA6PteUzIgbqRr2w/s1600-h/P1210426.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350892981474341362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOTqY5BCZxpf1mxJTZEyq_uMlw0oTr7-xaenmD6kKWKnZmt8WhkTLhf2MptDT23HDQnFAs4KPzxCtobF-lx_p4ptOWaDvT6998YYfS-fqEkxlDGMa8QMOuPEK5aqA6PteUzIgbqRr2w/s400/P1210426.JPG" /></a> This T-Shirt is awesome.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbxmHWsPwmdtufa2wo5kJS9QTKUEfyFfrJ7IWWuo-8BbxWms2h7hG65HI75_Eqy6GKrT154fSuvNKdLxrYXllbFPKCNZWFW4Zvg9wBBdJ0gFclG50mvbsDepyuqRgUzsyOstWybQ6Lw/s1600-h/P1210415.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350892972980605298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbxmHWsPwmdtufa2wo5kJS9QTKUEfyFfrJ7IWWuo-8BbxWms2h7hG65HI75_Eqy6GKrT154fSuvNKdLxrYXllbFPKCNZWFW4Zvg9wBBdJ0gFclG50mvbsDepyuqRgUzsyOstWybQ6Lw/s400/P1210415.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Some shots of the boys playing in the Jeep when Lauren and I took a "Stop the Fussing in the Back" break a the Polar Treat on the way home from Eastport.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02qT9UXlmJyvrdCV5XkwGrbUg3Brmm4OfsQln-tOuHDHCQMektQ1Bo9YCz5TfhmFuhEGCvBrO0njR1N4FEvvRV0ilMKwRcDQcRlne3C9jeDafHNcOb4caS2UyTwdAlSfg_R1Vn6I1HQ/s1600-h/P1210470.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350892970948214850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02qT9UXlmJyvrdCV5XkwGrbUg3Brmm4OfsQln-tOuHDHCQMektQ1Bo9YCz5TfhmFuhEGCvBrO0njR1N4FEvvRV0ilMKwRcDQcRlne3C9jeDafHNcOb4caS2UyTwdAlSfg_R1Vn6I1HQ/s400/P1210470.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Griffin on the jetty in Lubec, how gorgeous it is there!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-6507374759681063552009-06-20T08:02:00.001-07:002009-06-20T08:37:05.359-07:00Some Photos from This Week<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9bkg43035LyLdasDDUzwsFqgFT4q_RuHRznb4RgdroNtg0i6bo5cqxZ1eu4tY_uwueWcBxqXaqHiNt5aRfqutWa-Wk2kltIAmdl65SwNyXETL5OW64Mm77b4RhUPBHDKIkjdIHnjaQ/s1600-h/use+this+one+front+yard.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349432453841491458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9bkg43035LyLdasDDUzwsFqgFT4q_RuHRznb4RgdroNtg0i6bo5cqxZ1eu4tY_uwueWcBxqXaqHiNt5aRfqutWa-Wk2kltIAmdl65SwNyXETL5OW64Mm77b4RhUPBHDKIkjdIHnjaQ/s400/use+this+one+front+yard.JPG" border="0" /></a> We have had some gorgeous weather here this past week. Even the tides have been agreeable; high in the morning for breakfast, low for an after-lunch hike, and high again for our glass of wine on the deck before dinner. Here is the left side of the front yard and Small's Cove.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UcdXESgDRoIERyNVe8ynw5qmOcmHD-pG4xGfnQWa0un77hO3U4oaSburncwHW7q3PS4JssbQeNOewCS7crvERWZ93NVckWQYvY7WbMgOGH3bXCKPa8PP6vhcXscKIQ5jSKSRx1oi2A/s1600-h/P1210272.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349432171241049394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UcdXESgDRoIERyNVe8ynw5qmOcmHD-pG4xGfnQWa0un77hO3U4oaSburncwHW7q3PS4JssbQeNOewCS7crvERWZ93NVckWQYvY7WbMgOGH3bXCKPa8PP6vhcXscKIQ5jSKSRx1oi2A/s400/P1210272.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Here is Gillie enjoying the backyard and the Bucks Harbor "crick" as one local called it (I thought that was a midwest thing but I guess not).<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjNGDmmAomvotlob0woQZK0awlwcLUkDEFGcSku4ftu8RB6nvNDhUNV1NN1IOV8X2m34riVtDNIuWwh0vsZbjrFZqmoaIIWASOADy4QSdkWuRiJNR6sFe6NaZWO0v9B1ZdAUCvDCyxw/s1600-h/P1210242.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349431829236637746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjNGDmmAomvotlob0woQZK0awlwcLUkDEFGcSku4ftu8RB6nvNDhUNV1NN1IOV8X2m34riVtDNIuWwh0vsZbjrFZqmoaIIWASOADy4QSdkWuRiJNR6sFe6NaZWO0v9B1ZdAUCvDCyxw/s400/P1210242.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This was taken from about 1/2 mile out into the cove on the sandbar, looking out toward Machias Bay.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvo8EGSqwrywOThQY8ACiC-OPAQojgoopXGaKIo41fy9ZanqIwytivpth8KqDEY8QlIcBQ192qsvBWNCqKbunDtOmzmxaq59q-8q-TqBvu09p19U-P8d_qJqbDRXn7IL7gRYHXUz15g/s1600-h/P1210350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349431515266270946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvo8EGSqwrywOThQY8ACiC-OPAQojgoopXGaKIo41fy9ZanqIwytivpth8KqDEY8QlIcBQ192qsvBWNCqKbunDtOmzmxaq59q-8q-TqBvu09p19U-P8d_qJqbDRXn7IL7gRYHXUz15g/s400/P1210350.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Quinn really enjoyed being on his own in one of the back Adirondacks.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvjlOkkUooNKmt5uGaSxLzy1OvTs4mr1OdNxotsqDi3WJeMn_Jh1IlGi8HmQFr0VCrOC6GasnLur9kT3djtvyrkL76eA_oT_1EeAABTj_ZY4zsWabr2KfNgDwWG8WIls5HCK3eC-SsA/s1600-h/P1210341.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349431208430519842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvjlOkkUooNKmt5uGaSxLzy1OvTs4mr1OdNxotsqDi3WJeMn_Jh1IlGi8HmQFr0VCrOC6GasnLur9kT3djtvyrkL76eA_oT_1EeAABTj_ZY4zsWabr2KfNgDwWG8WIls5HCK3eC-SsA/s400/P1210341.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is such a good shot of Griffin that I overlooked Quinn trying to rip his hand away from his neck.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeAGah8xzaBZ5Q9X1H9WHxcBDv644jQbSQ5OGemNpOy4deCpcj0HluGlXuTG_3IQkwp9OhXSNt5UgsE46DMiRtcx6B624SBdYxVQqM7vrOesd67W4Em5nag0mc6vB8Abq6UwbjUvSKg/s1600-h/P1210318.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349430904607867714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeAGah8xzaBZ5Q9X1H9WHxcBDv644jQbSQ5OGemNpOy4deCpcj0HluGlXuTG_3IQkwp9OhXSNt5UgsE46DMiRtcx6B624SBdYxVQqM7vrOesd67W4Em5nag0mc6vB8Abq6UwbjUvSKg/s400/P1210318.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Everything is bigger in Texas with the notable exception of <em>trees</em>. I had forgotten how TALL they grow in New England! Here is Griffin in one of our Spruce groves in the back. I love these trees.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6I5yw3zuC_lNasL3gR55vNNlg3TZLqAToMUEmBBbP8djYGm6SElfAWbtwb34_Dv5rw0JPcwPezyqq-xI7WfirGtQIyHof4UkkWrFdfS7jCA3eKas_0eY8gRNpK1gVzfuKSMfhUZV-3w/s1600-h/P1210268.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349430536018275186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6I5yw3zuC_lNasL3gR55vNNlg3TZLqAToMUEmBBbP8djYGm6SElfAWbtwb34_Dv5rw0JPcwPezyqq-xI7WfirGtQIyHof4UkkWrFdfS7jCA3eKas_0eY8gRNpK1gVzfuKSMfhUZV-3w/s400/P1210268.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some of our collections from the beach, mostly muscle shells and driftwood.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDFtvnfLKv7kPQ6GJDQwQxEibvlo22tiNRg8bcn-15IBEmAWLXz3nMh4lWwoXpdSgUXpFCV9_Aa1aDU42conNbWNcoDRPbKDJjviYSM3SEsgBusFqk6MBRGLMSDpfkjFckUygOaztyg/s1600-h/P1210358.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349430268968787346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDFtvnfLKv7kPQ6GJDQwQxEibvlo22tiNRg8bcn-15IBEmAWLXz3nMh4lWwoXpdSgUXpFCV9_Aa1aDU42conNbWNcoDRPbKDJjviYSM3SEsgBusFqk6MBRGLMSDpfkjFckUygOaztyg/s400/P1210358.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Rosa Rugosa have begun to bloom. Just one open flower makes the entire deck smell of roses.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xqTQv_baHnC3woJQvB0e7qlY-b4VBp0xQsYVeGL1s1wlyOL16jgEwF7DP1SYUM6u7CiX-KD2-xPgn_IlLSl6RoKdDvTYWqerTpFFb8jUXp6pEyoOvFEN0H-2HLU4sqgEvZehdPs1zQ/s1600-h/P1210390.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349429932518391842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xqTQv_baHnC3woJQvB0e7qlY-b4VBp0xQsYVeGL1s1wlyOL16jgEwF7DP1SYUM6u7CiX-KD2-xPgn_IlLSl6RoKdDvTYWqerTpFFb8jUXp6pEyoOvFEN0H-2HLU4sqgEvZehdPs1zQ/s400/P1210390.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And here we have the take from Lubec yesterday; Ed and Diane's gorgeous bread, chocolate from Bayside Chocolates and wool from Canada.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Today we have a big rain storm moving through. Chris left on Tuesday to fly to Atlanta for training that was supposed to be W/Th/F. However the IBM trainer never showed up and so they all just sat twiddling their thumbs for Wednesday. Then he arrived in Detroit last night, en route to Bangor, and his flight was finally cancelled at 1am. Dad sat waiting for him in Bangor at the airport and came home at 3am. So, Chris is finally rescheduled on a flight home today, should arrive in Bangor today at 3:30pm. I am so fried, all I can think to do is go shop for yarn, so we'll stop at Shirley's in Ellsworth on our way.</div><div> </div><div>Best -</div><div><br />Sarah<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZpdYzpL9zdq9bj8dK6zm7Gg0Y7dlfid1aqGkG3JiSiZ8goylHxkFvs7TqtPowbHGnWMQXY0zcQgOebdtbdkHdy0qjggv_DEOX1a_Shj_-ledYQ0fWNplCr5dtqL8p7qRPMa7WAx_5NQ/s1600-h/P1210242.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrWzaH_GMYu4i-Sz5Shg3ZktQahBqfyLY9EWDu3jfdQ6NwQriDgHm0VF4m185-B4OmVH8q1IjLD-vHFYfAYdTT__ORwZgO5rENMF5NQljwnK_iBwR6cuOieeBCYNKUTSG-a7JtlkMEA/s1600-h/P1210318.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKivN_F9mb6EHH2gDuG0SqsejhxqroaC3piyhsN7sV0B1fCr3fhy6ZIhFWc8yHnS44WKyjfuoqGcARrRE-lDZVS0-Rz7JRshYLI0DFP4ZbVLb5xNy_eXDTsxsr_VhZDFGzGeRjJaRNRw/s1600-h/P1210251.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdy5bOPHcLgZkKIeQAwcnxfDrZlB6XPSlSn1gZvjqqWzryf8YPJi9Y_Su_NviCuv5o_dk6xzqaFX2m8NAJmXrtV1hlSG4nZHFnoLA5tNZB2v9okBIJ8YUqjKbqiL2e8z085iVPBEeWSg/s1600-h/P1210264.JPG"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>We had some amazing sunshine-y weather this week. Even the tides worked with us; high at breakfast, low for a walk after lunch and high again for a glass of wine on the deck before dinner.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>The shot on the left is the front yard. On the right is taken from the sandbar out in the cove, looking out toward Machias Bay.</p></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrWzaH_GMYu4i-Sz5Shg3ZktQahBqfyLY9EWDu3jfdQ6NwQriDgHm0VF4m185-B4OmVH8q1IjLD-vHFYfAYdTT__ORwZgO5rENMF5NQljwnK_iBwR6cuOieeBCYNKUTSG-a7JtlkMEA/s1600-h/P1210318.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrWzaH_GMYu4i-Sz5Shg3ZktQahBqfyLY9EWDu3jfdQ6NwQriDgHm0VF4m185-B4OmVH8q1IjLD-vHFYfAYdTT__ORwZgO5rENMF5NQljwnK_iBwR6cuOieeBCYNKUTSG-a7JtlkMEA/s1600-h/P1210318.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrWzaH_GMYu4i-Sz5Shg3ZktQahBqfyLY9EWDu3jfdQ6NwQriDgHm0VF4m185-B4OmVH8q1IjLD-vHFYfAYdTT__ORwZgO5rENMF5NQljwnK_iBwR6cuOieeBCYNKUTSG-a7JtlkMEA/s1600-h/P1210318.JPG"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-32505120649441589032009-06-19T04:02:00.000-07:002009-06-19T04:08:58.216-07:00Sunrise County - Not Just a Clever NameIt is currently 7am and I have been up for two hours now. The first 30 minutes were spent trying to convince Quinn that the "light light light" he's declaring he sees is really not morning light, it's actually happening in the middle of the night. But he will not be dissuaded and so this morning I am finally going to head to the hardware store for some blackout shades. I have been penny-wise and pound-foolish avoiding their purchase, lo these 5 years. I hope that tomorrow I have something new to report on our wake-up time.<br /><br />Chris is still in Atlanta, and will arrive late late late tonight. Dad will pick him up in Bangor at 11:30pm, which is so late compared to Dad's normal bedtime that he'll probably have breakfast on the way home. The boys and I will be heading up to Lubec this afternoon for our weekly dose of wool, chocolate and bread. I expect Griffin to fall asleep on the way.<br /><br />We have had a couple of really nice days outside. I had forgotten how nice the air feels up here, the smell of the ocean and the freshness from the forests. We stopped by the little local fabric shop yesterday for some pine fabric, I want to make one or two balsam cushions. Griffin and I have hiked the sand bar three days in a row now, it's actually a mile out and a mile back. Yesterday I took Quinn on my back and he just froze once we were alongside the harbor, the air is very chilly. I cannot believe anyone swims in this stuff. So he cried all the way back until we were in the shelter of the cove. Need to knit him up a wool hat, no joke.<br /><br />Sun is out now but we're being threatened with rain by those weathermen. They have only been right about that once since we got here, though, so I'm optimistic.<br /><br />Dad is heading back to NH for a few days tomorrow and our good friend Lauren from MA is coming up to visit for a few days so we'll have a great time!<br /><br />Hope you are well, number here is 207 255 3624, it's never too early to call. Seriously. Never. Oh - and today is my brother's birthday! He's wicked old but younger than me so I won't give a number.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-10365277874825362142009-06-16T14:15:00.000-07:002009-06-16T14:32:16.893-07:00Relaxed<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, so I couldn't figure out how to put photos on here and instead sent them all through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ofoto</span>. But if you didn't get that link, let me know and I'll send it to you. *Now* I know how to post them, so, next time!<br /><br />Chris is on his way to Atlanta for three full days of training. Dad drove him to Bangor today, he'll fly to Boston and then make a connection. He won't land in Bangor until 11:30pm on Friday, but Dad has offered to fetch him which is great. We wish he could be having vacation with us, but of course are grateful that he has a job that allows him to work from up here.<br /><br />We have had two just gorgeous days in a row up here. Those weathermen lied! Bless them. This morning I put Quinn down for an early nap and Griffin and I headed out for a walk and then down to the beach to walk the sandbar. Dad is a better judge of distance, but I personally think it's about 1/4 - 1/2 mile out to the island on the other side of the cove. We took Gillie and walked it several times waiting for the tide to reveal the final stretch of the pathway, but alas. Our hunger got the best of us and after an hour and a half we came back in. We had a great time, though, and have a nice bag of shells to show for it. Griffin developed a fascination with Barnacles and wanted to bring some home for pets (no). Gillie did too, and appears to like eating them. Griffin has since done several illustrations of barnacles and we are going to read more about them tonight.<br /><br />Wish everyone could partake in this gorgeous cool weather with us!<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-47658510968870034572009-06-13T18:10:00.001-07:002009-06-13T18:23:44.724-07:00A Sunny Day in MachiasportI wish my camera weren't already filled with photsos, I would have taken so many more pictures today while the sun was shining, as that looks like a more rare occurrence than we would hope. Tomorrow we go back to three more days of grey and rain. Lucky for us, a grey day on the Maine coast is its own kind of gorgeous, we should be able to enjoy it for its rarity, coming from Texas.<br /><br />Friday was wonderful because the boys and Dad and I drove up to Lubec for our yarn / chocolate / bread run. The Fraziers came with us and Barb and I hit the new yarn shop in Lubec, called Wags and Wool (they sell dog things too). They have this gorgeous location overlooking the bay, and some nice rustic wool from a mill not far away in Canada. I miss the small yarn shops we have here in New England. Lubec has a population that could easily be outnumbered by a smallish case of sardines, but it also has a yarn shop, god bless them. <br /><br />Bayside chocolates was excellent, the bread we picked up was excellent, and we had a nice stopover at the Fraziers. Their house is looking amazing and Barb has done a lot on the gardens as well. The view from their living room window is nothing but dunes, bay, and the little Channel lighthouse.<br /><br />Today included a rocket launch courtesy of Grampa and Griffin, and a rocket / pine tree separation process courtesy of Chris and a ladder and a pole. We had a chance to meet our trusty property manager, Joey Dennison, in person and go over work on the house. Through him we determined that the cat must have been here with a summer renter in 2008, as the carrier was here when he took over that fall. As I don't know who it was, I guess no one will be shot.<br /><br />We walked down to the Bucks Harbor Shopping Mall this morning. I'll post pictures soon. It's this small 20x15' building that has some essentials like a griddle for bacon, some fridges for soda and a large inventory of fishing gloves. Walking in as obvious out-of-towners (or "from away", as they call it here) earns you a few solid stares and then the kind of deliberate ignoring and head turns that I usually only get from Quinn when I'm asking him to surrender something he isn't supposed to be playing with. 10 years ago I would have made them talk to me anyway, but now I'm too tired. They'll just have to content themselves with the unapologetic joy of our company. Dad has taken to walking down in the morning and coming back with all the local news. He is much more stealth Northern New England. NH and Maine can blend pretty well.<br /><br />We're off to watch a movie with Griffin, Bedtime Stories with Adam Sandler. Tomorrow we have the pleasure of a visit from our friends Katrina, James and their two daughters from Allen, TX. They're up visiting her Dad in East Sullivan, Maine. <br /><br />Please say a prayer for Judy Welker, our friend and our friend Michelle's Mom. She is so on our minds this week, as she begins her walk toward healing from newly-discovered breast cancer. There is good news on that score but I'll save it for tomorrow.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Sarah and the Dedmon MenUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6001577918457992452.post-39416647727492425222009-06-12T06:05:00.000-07:002009-06-12T06:13:40.670-07:00Settling in to MaineWe have another grey and rainy day here in Machiasport. Looking at the forecast, we're going to have only 3 out of 10 that won't fit that bill in the next week and a half. <br /><br />When we arrived here we put together several little clues and determined that one of our renters had lied and brought a cat to live in the house. Our first clue was an empty cat carrier left in the garage (where is the cat??), our 2nd clue was my inability to breathe the next morning, and our 3rd clue was cat food under a radiator. I can only hope that this tenant is also the one that left the antique suitcase full of their belongings in the garage, so that I can have the pleasure of delivering it to the landfill. So, yesterday involved massive amounts of laundry at the laundromat (pillows, comforters, etc), and we will continue vacuuming and mopping today to try and remove as much dander as we can. <br /><br />The boys are having a great time. Quinn loves toddling all over the house and getting into Griffin's legos. Griffin is currently enjoying some of his old favorite shows on the Kids Canadian channel, and today he and Grampa are going to start building some model rockets to launch. Chris had to spend about half the day yesterday rewiring what the Time Warner guys had done, in order to get his internet connection up. He will be working today, but will take a con-call from the road so that we can make our weekly Friday trek up to Lubec for the best bread in the world. Diane is baking us a Tortanno, two baguettes, one fruit loaf and her new lavash crackers. Soup is definitely on the menu for dinner so that we can justify further bread consumption. To make a good thing better, Lubec also has a new knitting / spinning shop that opened as a spin-off (no pun intended) of Done Roving farm. AND they have two chocolate shops. Bread, chocolate, wool. What else could one want? :)<br /><br />I'm still unpacking, I'll start uploading some photos tomorrow. We are in the dead center of Lupine season, they are everywhere and they are gorgeous.<br /><br />SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0