One Morning in Maine

Bucks Harbor, seen from Smalls Cove

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.

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. 

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 Low. 

Indian Point

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.

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. 

Looking toward home on the sandbar

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. 

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. 

Bucks Harbor

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.

Where the cormorant was

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.

Michaelmas daisies along the footpath

 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. 

The Birthday Girl, 5 minutes ago

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. 

Before I did, I took advantage of the cell signal which we strangely have in spades 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.

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.

Best -

Sarah

Our Days in Maine

Fall color is beginning

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!

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.

At West Quoddy Light in Lubec, ME



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.

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 such 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.

Roques Bluff State Park

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.


On the Kennebec road, going home





Entering into Machias, ME


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 and 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.

Chocolate in Lubec

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.

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 other chocolate shop. It's a hardship.

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.

In a lengthy discussion of food on the coast of Maine, one might expect the mention of seafood. There, I mentioned it.

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.

XOXOXO
Sarah

Some of our new fall color

Sun!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Wish you were here!

Goodbye, Irene

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.

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, Lucy's Christmas by Donald Hall, Griffin decided to make paper chains to decorate the dining room.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Love

Sarah

Pics

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.

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.

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.

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.

Happy Weekend!

Love,

Sarah & the littlest Dedmon boys.

Rain

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.

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

nt in Hillsboro. Lots of wine, very nice.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Off to finish making the Chilli -

Love,

Sarah

Deering

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.

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.

Love,

Sarah