Monday, October 31, 2022

Halloween

Ok…Halloween. Here is my sure to be unpopular take on what used to be a delightful children’s holiday, but has morphed itself into just another day that grown adults have managed to co-opt. First, the fun part.

Our neighborhood has a Halloween parade. All the adorable kids in their costumes gather at the corner of Center Ridge and Summer Stream around 5 o’clock. Then they march themselves all through the neighborhood before ending up in our culdesac where the HOA has set up tables filled with 25 pizzas from Dominoes which I have been tasked with picking up in time for their arrival. I am told that there will be over 100 of us in attendance. To guard against untimely rain, two beach pavilions will have been erected. After everyone has eaten, the trick-or-treating begins. Ever since COVID our neighborhood has gone to the curbside distribution of treats whereby you place candy in individualized bags on tables at the end of your driveway. That way, their little filthy hands don’t get thrust into a communal treat bowl. Many of us decorate our tables with Halloween gear and set up our solo-stoves behind us and make an evening of it. Its awesome. The kids look amazing and we get to chat with some of the parents at the same time…one of the few COVID outcomes that was actually wonderful. Of course, Pam being Pam, she has a special section of our table dedicated to peanut-free treats, and special bags for Cash, Kennedy and Boo from next door which somehow gets filled with not only traditional candy but all manner of other trinkets. Good Lord how we spoil those three.

So, that’s the part of Halloween that I love. The rest of what it has become is embarrassing. I look on Facebook and see an endless stream of pictures of adults decked out in all manner of outrageous costumes, attending adults only parties. Celebrities are the worst, some of them even showing up dressed in some ridiculous costumes to parties that weren’t even costume parties! Then there are the attention hogs that intentionally dress in offensive and prejudicial outfits designed for maximum outrage in order to grab attention and hits on their Instagram accounts. Then, this morning I read of the 150 dead South Korean Halloween partiers killed in a stampede. Look, I’ve got nothing against having a good time, but when I see 50 and 60 year olds dressed up either as Sponge Bob SquarePants, or some couple decked out to look like a prostitute and a priest I think, Good Lord, folks! Give Halloween back to the kids and grow the hell up.

But, thats just me.

Saturday, October 29, 2022

Incredible


And this, my friends, is why I love post season baseball.


Friday, October 28, 2022

The Perfect Blogpost for a Dreary Friday

On this dreary Friday morning I will ignore the many problems of the human condition to concentrate on one of its joys, the Dad Joke.

Two cowboys were lost in the desert when they saw a tree in the distance covered in bacon. One cowboy says to another, “A bacon tree! We’re saved!” He runs as fast as he can to the tree only to die in a hail of bullets. Turned out to not be a bacon tree at all.

It has a ham bush.


Lionel Messi was fussing at his son for his filthy looking room. The boy said that it wasn’t his fault.

“I can’t help it that I’m a little messy.”


Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd broke into a distillery one night. Daffy picks up a bottle and asks Elmer, “Is this whiskey?”

Elmer answered, “Sure its whiskey, but not not nearly as whiskey as wobbing a bank.”


My wife is all mad at me because I dripped ceiling paint on the floor.

Now I’m just walking on eggshell.


I used to think that my Chiropractor wasn’t any good.

But now I stand corrected.


Last night I called the child abuse hotline.

A six year old answered the phone and told me I was ugly.


Breaking news from the world of sports: The New York Yankees are relocating to the Philippines.

They are going to be called the Manila Folders.


According to the CDC, what is the most popular vaccine in the ghost community?

…boooo-sters.


My brother, the electrician, just had gender reassignment surgery.

Now I have a trans-sister.


I went to visit my Psychiatrist yesterday and after thirty minutes he told me I was crazy. I told him I needed a second opinion.

He said, “Alright…you’re ugly too.”











Thursday, October 27, 2022

The Crisis in Public Education

I am a product of the public school system in this country, having graduated from Patrick Henry High School in Hanover County, Virginia in 1976. Both of my children are products of the public school system. I have never been a big fan of Christian schools, private schools, or home schooling, although I understand why some people make those choices. For me, there was no other choice. My parents couldn’t afford anything besides public schools. When my kids came along I could afford other options but never seriously considered any of them. It helped that the local schools were terrific. Perhaps if I lived in the middle of Camden, New Jersey I would have made different choices.

Full Disclosure Alert: I come from a family of several educators. My wife, my daughter, my sister, and one of my nieces have all been neck deep in the public school infrastructure for many years. So what I write here is in part influenced by their experiences. I should also admit that when I matriculated at the various schools available to me as a kid—Elmont Elementary, John M. Gandy, Liberty Jr. High then Patrick Henry High School—I wasn’t exactly what anyone would call a model student. I was an underperforming, mischievous goofball who was far more interested in girls than grades, as my many trips to the principal’s office would prove. But, I learned a lot and many of my teachers along the way made positive impressions on me, some life-long.

So, my devotion to public schools does not come from an idyllic experience, but rather, I believe that public schools are essential to the formation and sustenance of the Republic in ways that expensive private schools, parochial schools and even home schooling could never be. A foundational, quality education available to everyone is the surest and most proven tool to fight poverty, crime and a host of other societal plagues. We all benefit from a well educated citizenry, people who have been given the foundation of knowledge and understanding of the world.

But it doesn’t take an Education Department Bureaucrat to see that public schools are in deep, deep trouble. Since the onset of COVID, and uninterrupted since, some of the best teachers in the business have chosen to leave the profession. Teachers that were anywhere close to retirement bailed. To make matters worse, the number of new candidates has dried up. Fewer and fewer college students are choosing teaching as a career, and it’s not hard to see why.

I will not attempt here to diagnose what ails education in this country. I am not qualified, for one thing. For another, there are so many problems I wouldn’t even know where to start. However, I would like to concentrate on one area that is a universe away from how things worked 50 years ago when I cut my destructive path through Hanover County’s school system. The problem as I see it is perfectly summarized by this:



Although my parents had plenty of problems with my teachers back in the day, they never ever shared them with me. Mom and Dad formed a united front when it came to me and my uninspired scholarship, so if I was having a problem in class it was 99% my fault. In the Dunnevant home, our teachers were long suffering angels for having to put up with our laziness, etc. In other words teachers and our schools were held in a position of honor and authority by my parents, which filtered down to us. This simply does not exist any longer. There are a million reasons, but the underlying fact is undeniable. If little Johnny is struggling at school, too often parents take the position that it is the teacher’s fault. The louder they complain, the more likely it is that the administration will back the student and his bitching parents over the teacher. This is not true in every school or in every case, but it has happened often enough to make it clear to many teachers I’ve talked to that nobody has their backs. 

But as frustrating as this must be and as harmful as the breakdown of classroom discipline has become, its not as bad as the constant moving of the goalposts being forced upon teachers and schools by the mismanagement and bumbling incompetence of the education bureaucracy that has grown up over local schools like mushrooms after three days of rain. There are bloated central offices, reinventing the wheel literally every couple of years in everything from reading to math. Then there are the federal bureaucratic kingdoms mandating outcomes on local schools without providing workable guidance or funding. Finally, local school boards have been taken over by politicians instead of educators. Its a wonder any competent teacher stays on the job. Of course one of the worst things that can happen to a really good teacher is for them to win some kind of Teacher of the Year award. What that amounts to is an increased work load for two full years as they struggle to teach their classes while performing all of the TOY responsibilities, all in exchange for some $500 or $1,000 stipend. In the business world that would be considered laughable. In education, its like every Tuesday.

We have a problem on our hands as a nation. If public schools continue on their present course they will be virtually gone in twenty years, replaced by home schooling, the rich private academy, and some charter/for-profit enterprise hybrid. The only remaining public schools will be in the poorest neighborhoods, producing predictably pathetic outcomes. Something has to be done. We need to attract gifted teachers into the business. That can’t be done solely by raising the pay; it will also require a new level of respect and support. We need to stop tying the hands of administrators by allowing them to enforce classroom discipline. And parents need to stop coddling their children with the false message that they are special and deserve nothing but the best. They, in fact, deserve nothing but a decent education and a chance to succeed. That only happens when they work hard, apply themselves and respect the only authority that matters when they are in class … their teacher!

Monday, October 24, 2022

There’s an Election?

I find myself in a brief baseball hole since the World Series doesn’t start until this Friday. This allows me to think about other stuff, so I better take advantage of this four day window.

Ok, so there’s an election coming up. The reason I know this is because I can’t avoid the political banners and signs that festoon nearly every major intersection in the west end. But for the life of me I couldn’t tell you a single candidates’ name. I could probably pick a couple of them out of a lineup because I would recognize their faces from the banners, but I couldn’t put a name with a face if my life depended on it. Another weird thing is that although every time I find myself at one of those west end intersections I am careful to read every word of the signs, I have not yet been able to identify which political party these candidates are aligned with. Nowhere on the signs is there any such admission. Honestly, I don’t blame them one bit.

Not only can I not put names with faces or know which party they represent, I must admit that at this point I don’t even know what office they are running for. Partly, I blame my appalling election illiteracy on spending eight of the past sixteen weeks in Maine. I do know that up there Former Governor Paul Lepage is running against a woman with blond hair…so I got that going for me. But as far as the political contests in the Old Dominion, I am hopelessly uninformed. Here’s what will happen. I will enter the voting booth on Election Day and be presented with several names with D’S and R’s next to them with the occasional L or I. Then, the ballot will tell me what office they are running for and I will make my choice based on basically zero information. So, the question is, should I vote at all?

Is it good for democracy for everyone to cast a ballot or just people who have taken the time to study the issues and candidates? What about a guy like me who long ago soured on politics to the point where his distaste for it has rendered him apolitical and apathetic? Should I cast a ballot, or let those with passionate convictions one way or another have the floor?

In the five days or so before Election Day I will receive a barrage of slick one page ads in the mail telling horror stories of what will befall the Commonwealth if so-and-so gets elected. Then the airways will be filled 24/7 with ads as each party spends all the money they raised over the past two years trying to scare the hell out of me. Nevertheless, I was always taught by my parents and most of my teachers in high school that it was my sacred duty to vote, my responsibility to participate in the franchise. So, I will vote. Maybe I’ll write in someone. I won’t vote for anyone who is running unopposed and I won’t vote for anyone with misspelled words or missing punctuation in their last minute mail appeals. I mean, I do have a few standards.


Friday, October 21, 2022

Its Friday. Are You Golden Yet?

When I was pulling out of my driveway Monday morning my neighbors, Jamie and Stu, were walking their kids to the bus stop. I rolled the window down to say hello and Jamie replied with a voice that sounded like something you would hear in a tuberculosis sanatorium…three octaves low and as raspy as a two pack a day smoker. I delicately observed, “Good Lord girl, you sound horrible!” Then she said something very cool. In fact, I am stealing it and using it for motivation. 

She said, “I’ve got to get better because we have family portraits this weekend. My plan is to be…golden by Friday.”

Golden by Friday. That sounds like a plan. I know what some of you are thinking. But what about the rest of the days of the week? Shouldn’t we be golden every day? Puhleeze. Most Mondays its all I can do to remember to put my contacts in. And don’t get me started on the occasional sense of despair that comes with certain Wednesday mornings. No, what I like about this golden by Friday thing is the two things it suggests. First, that there is a plan of improvement, that life is a process and there’s a goal. And second, its optimistic. The plan isn’t to be ok by Friday. No, the expectation is to be golden. That’s a high bar.

So, there you go people. Let’s all work on becoming golden by Friday.

One more thing. Any parent of multiple kids knows all about sibling rivalry. Anyone with brothers or sisters also knows about sibling rivalry. But now, thanks to baseball, there is scientific evidence that attests to its existence. A couple days ago something happened in the Phillies v Padres game that had never happened before. A pitcher for the Phillies, Aaron Nola had to pitch to his older brother Austin for the Padres. As Austin walked to the plate, the camera caught the boy’s parents in the stands. The Dad was wearing both teams’ jerseys! In his first appearance, Austin made an out. The second time up he got a hit. But here’s what some statistician discovered. Aaron Nola had thrown over 10,000 fastballs in his career up until facing his brother in that game. Only 9 times did one of his 10,000 fastballs reach 96 miles per hour or higher. 3 of those 9 times were against his brother!!

Have a good Friday everyone, and if you aren’t quite golden…go for silver.

Thursday, October 20, 2022

What All of You Have Been Waiting For

Its been a while since I have shared any Dad jokes in this space. I’ve been preoccupied with other things that haven’t exactly lent themselves to the pursuit of humor. For many of you this has been very good news, but for others—like Pam Cole—it has been devastating. I’m hearing rumors that she is inconsolable. So, this morning I visited a few of my reliable sites looking for some new material and I have to say—there’s isn’t a lot of funny happening out there at the moment. But yesterday afternoon I did receive a text from my wife of all people with this gem…

How do you describe Dracula’s fashion sense?

fang shui.


Then there’s this:

The Ukrainian guy whose job it is to decommission Russian armored vehicles doesn’t get enough credit.

…its a tank less job.

…and by now he probably has turrets syndrome.

…really difficult to get any traction in his career.


What do you get when you send a wolf to therapy?

…aware wolf.


Cancer, diabetes, and COVID-19 walk into a bar.

…bartender says, “what? Is this some kind of sick joke??”


I recently started writing a novel about hurricanes.

…It is only a draft at the moment.

…but I’m sure it will take the world by storm.


What did Abraham Lincoln say when he was on trial?

“I’m in-a-cent.”

…to coin a phrase.

Wednesday, October 19, 2022

The Best Time of the Year

So, while I was in Maine I was able to read a few books. Its one of the major benefits that Maine-life affords me.


They were all good. Well, all except the Cal Ripken auto-biography. Note to self: avoid autobiographies written by athletes. I mean, Cal was amazing and all but this thing was flat and boring. But the others were terrific. Amor Towles continues to astound me with his writing. Lincoln Highway was brilliant. Also, I had always felt a little guilty that I had never read anything by P.D. James. The woman is a British institution and has twenty crime novels under her belt—almost ALL of them having been made into movies—so I gave Death in Holy Orders a try and she didn’t disappoint, although I had firgured out who the killer was 70 pages before the end! But, enough with literature…its Postseason baseball time, which means I am glued to all things baseball for the next few weeks.

So yesterday the black knights from Gotham advanced to the American League Championship series against the Houston Astros, placing me on the horns of a dilemma. Who do I root for when the choices are between the the spawn of Steinbrenner and the notoriously caught red-handed cheating Houston Astros? After a night of fitful sleep I have determined that I will root against the depository of all that is wrong with baseball, and root for Dusty Baker. If none of this makes any sense to you, its ok. Its a baseball thing.

In the other league, I have to decide between two teams awash in former Nationals players. For the Phillies there’s Kyle Schwarber and Bryce Harper, while the Padres have Juan Soto and Josh Bell. While I am very grateful to the Padres for ridding us of the dreadfully entitled Dodgers, I have decided to cast my lot with the Phillies who seem to be playing inspired baseball of late. The home run that Kyle Schwarber hit last night was so incredible it got this reaction from Bryce…



So, there you have it. I’m all-in on an Astros v. Phillies World Series.

Monday, October 17, 2022

Whatsoever Things are Lovely

Ever heard the expression—tanned, rested, and ready? It’s normally used to describe someone who has been away on an extended vacation, then returns all rejuvenated. But did it describe me as I returned to work today? Well, because it was a fall trip, I am not tanned. Without question I am rested. The question of whether or not I am ready is totally irrelevant. Life does not much care if we are ready. Life happens whether we are ready or not. 

I woke this morning around 5 o’clock. After my regular routines were completed, I felt the beginnings of mild nausea. I had woken up with a mild headache which was now growing but I knew that a cup of coffee would keep it at bay. I began to think of the list that was waiting for me at the office. It wasn’t daunting, but there was work to be done and a lot of it. But I knew that Kristin would have it organized for me. I also knew that my files would be in infinitely better shape than they were when I left. She always uses my time away to clean things up and correct my alphabetically-challenged system. There will be a box of discarded paperwork, maybe two depending how far she made it through. The woman is irreplaceable.

As I sat on my sofa flipping through the financial news, my spirits began to falter. Its the same thing that happens after every vacation I’ve ever taken. Its the same thing that I felt on the first day of school when I was a kid. You would think that after 64 years I would have evolved into someone wiser and less plagued by anxiety. You would think that after 40 years in the same career I would be better able to handle the pressures inherent in my business. Shouldn’t I be better equipped now than I was 30 years ago? As it turns out—no.

But then I remembered a little exercise that I had started doing before I left for Maine, the thought exercise that goes along with that verse from the 4th chapter of Philippians. I wrote a blog about it on September 26th. So, I started thinking about things that are true, noble and just. Then I closed my iPad and thought about things that are pure, lovely and admirable. Nothing miraculous happened. My nausea didn’t go away. I still had a big challenge facing me when I walked through the doors of my office at 7:30. But, for thirty minutes I did manage to feed my soul with good things. I did feel less fatalistic, less overwhelmed. By 8:00 my nausea had faded and my headache was gone and I was, in fact, ready.

When lunchtime arrived I had cut a mighty swath through my to-do list. As I sat at my library desk I remembered some advice a friend had recently given me—“when you start feeling stressed out, flip back through the great pictures you took in Maine.” So I did. One of them stood out for some reason…



“ Whatsoever things are lovely…think on these things.”

Thursday, October 13, 2022

Battening Down the Hatches

Normally, the last full day in Maine is divided into two parts, the part where you get as much last minute fun in as is humanly possible, and the part where you pack everything up and clean up the cabin. Tomorrow is that day. Only, we have been thrown a curveball by Mother Nature. Somewhere in the next couple of hours, we are due to be hit with a fall storm that will last all the way through until Saturday morning. The current forecast calls for up to 3 inches of rain and sustained 20 mph winds with gusts up to 45 mph. The possibility of power outages are also in the forecast. If you are thinking to yourself, “what a horrible way to end a vacation,” nothing could be further from the truth. Unless you have sat inside a warm and dry Maine cabin while watching a fierce rain storm pummel a lake, lashing it with sheets of water while white caps dance across the surface, you can’t possibly know how incredible cool it is to watch. Tomorrow will be amazing.

However, all is NOT well. Pam took her paddle board out this morning when the lake was still as glass. As she was passing a smaller cabin she noticed at least a dozen empty beer cans at the bottom of the lake at the end of their dock. Pam, of course, was mortified. This is Maine, for God’s sake. Why, in the name of all that is holy, would anyone throw empty beer cans into a beautiful lake when their trash can is literally ten steps away? It felt like a unspeakable violation of the laws of nature, some kind of unforgivable sin. It reminded me of the time we were at Loon Landing and one day when I went for a run I saw that some cretin had thrown at least 30 empty cans of BudLite into the woods on both side of Brierly Road. I ended up filling a tall kitchen bag with them, took a picture of my work and wrote a blog about what I considered an outrage. This seemed worse somehow, because they had been thrown in the water. If the water wasn’t 60 degrees, I would have done a dive, collected them all and deposited them on the moron’s front door. But…enough negativity.

Here are a few pics from the last couple of days…


My sister, the new retiree.


So very, very, Maine.



Camden’s town square awash in fallen leaves.



Living the high life…




Tuesday, October 11, 2022

My No-Internet Day

Yesterday was the first bad weather day we have had since we arrived eleven days ago. It was cold all day and by the late afternoon and evening it began to rain, after which our corner of Maine became enshrouded in thick fog. But this does not mean that we had a bad day, quite the opposite.

When I woke up I made the decision that I was not going to open the internet all day. There were several reasons for this, not the least of which was the tight stomach that has been dogging me ever since I arrived, a result of stock market-induced anxiety. All day long I have been checking the conditions on Wall Street, then checking my work phone for client messages, etc. all in the vain hope that by doing so I can somehow will it all away. I know that sounds ridiculous, but when you do this type of work for 40 years, these are the things you do to trick yourself into thinking you have some control over the situation. Well, yesterday morning I had had enough. Whatever was to happen in the investment world would have to happen without me. First up would be my morning run. 

I did bring my cell phone with me, since Pam has forbade me from running without it—“What happens if you fall and break your leg or get hit by a car?? Have a nice run, Honey!” Before heading out the door I checked the outside temperature and saw the numbers 38. Those are not good numbers, nevertheless I hit the road with enthusiasm. At the two mile mark, I made some new friends…



Although they weren’t exactly captivating conversationalists, I did receive their undivided attention. And when it was time for their photograph, they were 100% cooperative.

When I got back to the cabin and got cleaned up, I picked up a book I started reading a couple days ago and was enjoying…



In two days I hadn’t made very much progress because of the aforementioned stock market obsession, so I decided to take full advantage of my no internet day and finish this door stop of a book, which I did at 10:00 last night. It was nothing short of brilliant. Towles is one of those guys who when you read his stuff it makes you want to throw away your iPad and never write again. I mean, what’s the point? You’ll never be as good as him. Aside from the ego-shattering, spending most of an entire day engrossed in a rich and beautifully written tale is one of the greatest joys of life.

After spending all day doing essentially nothing, naturally we were all starved by the time dinner rolled around and since none of us had the desire to actually do anything close to physical work, we made the 40 minute drive into Belfast for a spectacular dinner at Delvino’s. Its an Italian place that is hugely popular with the locals. We have always had great luck there and last night was no exception. My meal started with some kind of sausage-vegetable soup that had my nose running by the time I was finished. Perfect. Then I ordered one of the pasta specials because I heard the words “Cajun” and “sausage” in the description. It was so incredible, so exquisite that after finishing the dish I shamefully tilted the plate up so I could gather the last dribbles of sauce in a spoon. If there had been any bread left I would have sopped up every drop. This meal is the reason that somebody invented Pepcid.

It occurred to me that my no internet day describes Lucy’s everyday. She never looks at the internet, and it is no surprise that she is the most mentally stable member of my household! All Lucy does is what she was created to do…be a loving and loyal dog. For Lucy this means looking after all of us while we are in Maine. She is never calm or carefree until she has accounted for all four of us. If one or more of us are not in the room, she begins her herding ritual which involves searching the cabin for the missing party and harassing that person until they are present and accounted for. Only then can she take her rightful place on the sofa overlooking the lake and get back to napping. Pam was one such offender yesterday, having gone to our bedroom to have a telephone conversation with her sister, when she took this picture…



“Ok, yous gots any idea hows long you gonna be, Mom? I is worried.”

This morning, I woke up to a completely fogged in lake. But today’s forecast calls for sunny skies and upper 50’s. 




Saturday, October 8, 2022

Public Art Work in Maine

I have testified many times in this space of the quirkiness of Maine. Where this oddness comes from is anyone’s guess. I hold the view that when you have to endure Maine winters, such endurance lends itself to eccentricity, in point of fact—entitles you to it. This morning I took Miss Lucy for a peaceful, 45 degree stroll down the narrow lanes of Lermond Pond, which just yesterday we learned is pronounced LerMOND instead of LERmond. This makes us zero for infinity in correctly pronouncing the lakes and rivers in Maine…but I digress.

Yeah, so first there’s this…



If you look closely you will see the drama unfolding above. Yes, this is an epic sword fight between two aspen knights. We do not know the specifics of this dispute but each fighter appears determined to prevail. A visitor from Virginia is left to ponder what went through the mind of whoever put this scene together.

Now, we come to a wine-drinking elderly couple who have Lucy completely flummoxed…





Try as she might, Lucy was unable to get either of them to acknowledge her presence, leaving her puzzled and with hurt feelings.

Finally, someone decided to take a fan blade out of either a standard floor fan or a 1966 Impala, paint it a fetching bright red, then nail it to a random tree without comment.



Again…to each his/her own, but the question remains—why?

Every lake we have ever stayed on in Midcoast Maine has featured this sort of thing. We love it. Everything about it and what it represents—this place is in every way, different.



Where does this trail lead? No telling.

Thursday, October 6, 2022

One For the Books

Today was as perfect a fall day in Maine as anyone could dream of. Although the morning dawned cloudy, by 9:30 the sun was bright and the water calm and cobalt blue. To make the day even more special, the clear skies and bright sunshine brought temperatures into the high 60’s and low 70’s. There was no question about what we would do today. All plans were jettisoned and the perfection of the day accommodated by spending all day on the lake.

For me it started with a morning fishing trip on which I caught exactly zero fish. But, like all fishing trips on lakes in Maine, the trip itself serves as its own reward…





The water levels here are two feet below normal due to an extended drought. This might have something to do with the below normal fishing results. But, there’s certainly nothing wrong with the fall colors.

Somewhere during my adventures, I came upon a rather brave loon who seemed totally at ease with my presence. He let me pull my kayak to within 20 feet then appeared to pose for me while I snapped several pictures…




Of course, whenever I go off in the kayak to go fishing, I leave Lucy at home. She is not a fan. So when I got close enough to the dock to be recognized, I saw her launch herself off the dock to serve as my welcoming committee…


Pam spent most of her day on her paddle board, often with Lucy swimming along beside her. There is nothing she enjoys more.





After such a delightful day, Ron and I sat on the little deck next to a gas fireplace while the moon rose across the way…



Tomorrow promises more of the same, but then the weather turns more seasonable with temperatures back down in the upper 50’s.




Tuesday, October 4, 2022

Disappointment and…Beauty

Today was supposed to be our big day. We were going to drive up to Toddy Pond in Orland, Maine with Tif to view a property that we had our eye on for over a week now. It checked off nearly every box on our exhaustive list. We were excited at the prospect. But late yesterday afternoon we got a text from Tif with bad news. There were already several bids in on the place and ours would need to be submitted by noon today! Our appointment to view was at 11:00. In addition, Tif suggested that a bidding war was taking place and she thought the winning bid would be close to 800K. The asking price was already at the top end of our budget, so that’s that. Very disappointing. But, any beautiful, wonderful thing in life is worth waiting for. So we go back to the drawing board and wait for something else. 

Its difficult to stay disappointed for long in Maine. I woke up an hour ago to this…


Last night we all sat down after dinner to watch the Sunday service from our church. In the message, David talked about the fact that our souls need to be nourished. We need to feed our souls, and one of the things the soul is hungry for is…beauty. If beauty is one of the things that restores the soul, then I am in the right place.


Monday, October 3, 2022

What a Morning

My day began at 6:00. That’s when I walked into the living room of the cabin and saw the lake still for the first time since we arrived two days ago. I kept glancing at it as I made coffee and emptied the dishwasher. After my chores were complete, I took a seat on the sofa. In keeping with my goal of limited interaction with the news, my laptop lay on the coffee table undisturbed. I took this picture with my cell phone…



I had turned on no lights. The gas fireplace in the corner gave off some heat, which was needed since it was 35 degrees out. I sat in the darkness, the only sound, the hum of the gas flame. Then suddenly it turned itself off, and I found myself surrounded on all sides by silence. I could hear my own breathing. Then I began looking across the lake at the shoreline. There is a ridge, then a mountain in the distance. On top of the mountain is a communications tower which you can barely make out against the pale morning sky. Just to the left of the tower there’s a thin line of brightness. I realize that this is where the sun will rise. I become transfixed by the spot. The line became brighter. At 6:55 the top edge of the sun peaked out over the ridge. I squinted. Within minutes, the light from the sun from 93 million miles away began to fill the cabin with a golden glow. I felt its heat against my face. I took another picture…


Then, in some bewitching trance, I found myself standing on the dock wearing a thin pair of pajama bottoms and a short sleeve t-shirt with a fishing rod in my hand. On the very first cast, I pulled in this little guy…



I stayed out there for fifteen minutes or so before I realized that it was pretty cold. When I turned around to walk up the dock back to the cabin, it was blanketed in sunlight…



Now Ron’s out there trying his luck…and its not even 8 o’clock. 



After I get something to eat, I plan on taking a kayak out to discover what this lake is all about. While I’m doing that, the rest of the world will get busy with all of its drama. Good people will do battle with bad people all over the world, like every day in the history of mankind. Good things will happen. Bad things will happen. The markets will either rally or fall. But for today, it will have to get along without me.


Sunday, October 2, 2022

The Joys of Quirkiness

After a terrific night of sleep, I wake up to this view and 43 degrees…



Lucy is at her post, supervising all of my morning routines…



The house we rented is lovely, although not without its quirks. But a lake house without a level of quirkiness is not a lake house at all. For starters, we couldn’t find the carafe for the coffee maker. When we finally did, we discovered that it had a huge crack in it. The prospect of having no coffee this morning was too horrible to contemplate so I texted the indomitable Tif Ford at On The Water in Maine last night around 6-ish explaining our crisis. Within an hour the owner of the house, (a big league quirk in her own right), shows up at the house with a brand new Perculator… 



This was the coffee-maker of choice for my parents not to mention millions of Americans before Mr. Coffee came along. As I write this I am enjoying my first cup of coffee from a percolator in probably 30 years. Frankly, its not bad at all, although it will take a few pots before I figure out how to get the right brew strength. There are other options here..a French Press and another single cup thing that also looks French somehow. Hard pass. 

Beside the coffee kerfuffle, there’s the case of the wall clock that bellows out a different bird song at the top of every hour…


My Mom had one of these and it was the subject of much trash talk back in the day. I would harass Mom about it nearly every time I was over at the house. Of course, Mom’s version of the birdsong clock was defective. The owl, woodpecker and eagle didn’t work, and all the others sounded garbled and grotesque, like a recording of Helter Skelter played backward at the wrong speed. Oh the fun I had giving Mom grief over that clock. Anyway, this one works perfectly, which is even worse than a defective one. Last night we are all sitting on the sofa busy with nothing…



…when the screeching song of the Purple Martin starts bouncing off the walls! What in the Sam Hill?? Oh, its just the clock!!

Finally, there’s the matter of the haunted ceiling fan…


Aside from the obvious issue of it being the subject of many side-eyes from Lucy, our girl having a long and troubled relationship with the appliance, this particular model seems to cut on and off of its own accord, independent of human instruction. Everyone remembers it NOT being on when we arrived at the cabin, but while we were eating dinner we all noticed that it was on. As day follows night, the women in the house complained about the draft it was causing and asked Ron to turn it off. Thus began an hour long search for a switch that would perform this simple task. Turns out there was a remote control in one of the bedrooms that had been employed to operate the bedroom ceiling fan. But for reasons that are unexplainable whenever it was used in the bedroom, it had the opposite effect on the one in the living room. Quirky.

Lucky for us, Lucy has made her peace with the overhead menace…



This morning we are heading into Camden for the Harbor festival/book and craft show. Awesome pictures are sure to follow.