The Kids Are Coming!!!

Day 18

Today is travel day for the kids. Jon and Kaitlin will drive to Charlotte and catch a flight to Portland. Knowing my daughters luck with flights, their luggage will probably land in Portland, Oregon. Patrick and Sarah will fly from Nashville to Portland. I will pick them up, God willing, around 8 o'clock this evening. Pam and Lucy will be here at the house making preparations for the big reunion, which...because Pam is Pam...will include a welcome bag of Maine treats on their pillows and some sort of yet to be determined Maine snack upon their arrival. Good Lord, how I do love that woman!

The weather for the first four days of this week looks like something ordered up by the Camden Chamber of Commerce...upper 70's over middle 50's. Of course, it should be pointed out that weather forecasts around here are about as dependable as Bill Clinton's marriage vows. In one single day it isn't unusual for the weather forecast here to change three times. Seriously! The other day the forecast at 6 am called for cloudy skies with a chance of rain. By noon it declared the rest of the day sunny and clear. By evening, it warned of heavy fog. Which brings me to my golf experience yesterday...

I showed up at Rockland Golf Club for my 7:00 am tee time with grave doubts that I would be able to get even nine holes in. The clouds were low, thick and heavy and a light rain had already started to fall. But then, I got paired with three local Mainers, Sean, Greg and Essie. They were all in their thirties, all lifelong residents of Rockland, with the thickest, most hilarious Maine accents you've ever heard. They all assured me that it was only a "passing showah!!" So, off we charged, into the breach.

After six holes, I was wetter than Bill Clinton's hot-tub, soaked to the bone. Meanwhile, my local weather experts seemed unfazed by the deluge, constantly finding evidence in the clouds of pending sunshine. By the turn at 9, it looked more ominous than when we started, but my new buddies remained committed. "They're playing the British Open right now, right? It's the least we can do!"

These three guys were about as good a bunch of dudes as you could imagine being paired up with on a golf course. Sean was an excellent golfer, Greg and Essie, not so much. However, all of them played very quickly...always a bonus. Essie had the added benefit of being a stone cold, lead pipe ringer for a young Tom Cruise. It was uncanny! By the end of the round, all three of them had given me their cell phone numbers and told me to not even think about renting clubs when I play again..."just call one of us and you can borrow ours!" 

So now, I can cross- play an entire round of golf in pouring rain - off of my bucket list. As crazy as it seems, I had a blast! Didn't even keep a scorecard, just kept a running total of how many pars I had...six. My boys want to do it again next Sunday morning.

Yesterday afternoon on the float.

Lucy playing fetch in the lake.

Hot enough for ya??

Day 16

The last couple of days here have been..."hot." I use scare quotes here because the term is relative. These have been the sort of days that Mainers get maybe a half dozen of all year, those rare occasions when they actually wonder if perhaps they should have considered air conditioning for the car. It was actually 90 yesterday, and 84 today with the sort of humidity that people in Richmond would call a cool spell. However, with no AC in a big house like this one...

...90 without a breeze and with humidity is the sort of thing that one doesn't expect in Maine. In fact, it makes you want to call the Chamber of Commerce and demand a refund.

Observant readers will notice Lucy's inquisitive nose poking between the slats of the marvelous porch on the front of our house. The past few days we have spent a lot of time out here...

.

And, why not? It's cool and the chairs are super comfortable. 

Lucy is doing very well here, although she still gets spooked by the oddest things. The other day, we were all out on the dock when suddenly some clouds rolled in and the wind began to blow. It didn't last too long, but Miss Lucy was not a fan. She took refuge between my legs...

Two nights ago..or maybe it was three, one day just melts into the next here...we had the finest meal of the trip so far, all cooked on the grill...

I swear y'all, this meal was beyond my ability to describe. Maybe it's because we were outside all day, maybe it was because we ate later in the evening. But whatever it was, this combination of flavors had me in food heaven. That's a New York strip steak with a butter/garlic concoction melting on top. The potatoes are seasoned with garlic and rosemary and cooked on the grill in a foil bag for forty minutes. The Brussels sprouts were slathered in olive oil and basted in a Dijon mustard sauce then skewered and grilled for fifteen minutes. As Frank Barone might say..Holy Crap!!!

Tomorrow morning, I have a 7:00 am tee time at the Rockland Golf Club, a mere 18 minutes from here. I'll be back on the dock by noon trying desperately to catch some fish. Then, after dinner, we will start to get all giddy at the impending arrival of our kids Monday evening. Having your whole family all together under one roof for a week in Maine is like Christmas for parents!!!

The World Intrudes

Day 15

There is a pattern developing to life here in Maine. Just about the time I find myself thinking that life couldn't possibly get any better, some deranged psychopath kills a bunch of innocents. Last night when I read Pam the horrifying news from Nice, she asked plaintively..." Why can't these people just come to Maine?" She hadn't intended to make a joke about so serious a catastrophe, but I couldn't help laughing. Why, indeed?

Part of me wonders if it's entirely appropriate for me to be enjoying such a leisurely, care-free month up here while the rest of the world seems to be falling apart. I read about the 80 dead in Nice right after a meal of steaks from the grill covered in garlic butter sauce, Brussels sprouts-kabobs in mustard sauce, and grilled potatoes. The news of the cop ambush in Dallas came while we were having lobster. So, because I'm an heir of western civilization, I battle with the one emotion that the West does best...guilt.

But, I deal with the G word swiftly. Unlike many of my younger friends, I refuse to accept the premise of the day that suggest that any success I enjoy comes from some entrenched privilege. I find no evidence that requires me to apologize for my good fortune, as if the very fact of my success suggests that somebody else more deserving was denied the chance. This view of the world requires the assumption that the world is a finite pie, that there is only so much success to go around. It's impossible to expand the pie, so we must allocate the pie more fairly. This world view empowers only those holding the knife, the bureaucrats, the redistributors. 

In my life, I have had a lot of help. Nobody is a self-made man, nobody. I had great parents who taught me right from wrong. I got a great education thanks to a series of life changing teachers who challenged me to think. I benefitted from several amazing mentors who taught me what no teacher could. I was blessed to be born a citizen of a country that allowed me to decide what I wanted to be and do. Me, not some government hack in an office somewhere. But, my government helped too. They built a network of roads and bridges that allowed me to move about with ease. They provided a system of justice that protected my rights and my property, and although that system is flawed and has had glaring failures, it's still the best in the world in much the same way as democracy is the worst system of government in the world...except for all of the others. 

But, despite all of the help I have been given, success was not guaranteed. It wasn't preordained. Good government, good parents and good teachers are present in the lives of millions who wind up in the gutter. All of the tools in the world can be given to someone, but the house won't get built until work is done, and mistakes of effort are made. Trial and error, multiple failures, then at last, success. Everyone I know who has done well in life has had to overcome failure, sometimes many failures. Luckily for us, we live in a country that supplies us with the most essential tool of all...freedom.

So, no. I will not apologize for being an American. I am proud of my country,( although that pride is taking a beating this election cycle). But, this too shall pass. We have overcome worse than Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump.

And no, I will not feel guilty for being on vacation while terrible things happen to innocent people. Instead, I will double down on my profound gratitude for the blessings of life, and endeavor to be a mentor to someone struggling to find their way in the world when I get back home.

A Typical Day

This place is hard to describe to anyone who has never been to Maine. There are many states in America that contain mountains, lakes and ocean access, for example, so when I tell them about these things they're like..."So??" What makes Maine unique however is the proximity of all of these things to each other. The view above is our little cove on Hobbs Pond, a 266 acre lake with a 5 mile perimeter surrounded by mountains. But, get in the car and make a 15 minute drive in which you pass three other lakes, and you find yourself here...

This is Camden Hills State park. That body of water is Penobscot Bay...the Atlantic Ocean. This park is divided by what remains of number 1 highway, yes...THAT number one highway. On the other side opposite the bay is Mount Battie and the wonderful old World War I memorial at its peak. From the top you can take pictures like this...

Yesterday, Pam and I stopped by one of the many food shacks that dot the landscape here and bought some sandwiches and took them here to have lunch. The breeze coming off the ocean was cool and strong, heavy with that most odd combination of scents...briny and pine. I may have found my new office...

After lunch we headed back to the lake and used up the last rays of sunshine sitting on our dock. After it got dark, Lucy was out like a light. We played a couple of games of Rummikub, then went to bed. All in all, it was a slow day. Nothing important happened. We didn't have much of a plan for the day. It just happened. The highlight of Pam's day was probably this...

So, this is how we roll in Maine. It may sound boring to some. To some it would be boring. But for us there's nothing better. Well, actually it will get even better when our kids get here. For the next four days, it will just be the three of us. Now, if you all will excuse me, my wife has had a fifteen minute head start in her kayak, and I have to catch up!

My Parents Are Going Crazy

Day 12

My name is Lucy. I belong to Doug and Pam Dunnevant. Most of the time, they have been the greatest parents ever. But honestly, lately I have had my doubts about them. I'm starting to think they may be losing their minds. The last 12 days have been nuts.

First, they took me on a two day, 18 hour car trip. Then we get to this great place called Maine. I love it, really I do. It's got this big hill down to a lake. It's got huge places to run with no fences anywhere! But there's also a huge scary house at the top of the hill I was talking about. There are ceiling fans everywhere, and this screen door which makes a terrible noise every time it opens. Oh, and the ceiling? It must be at least a mile high and smack dab in the middle of it, the biggest ceiling fan in the world! Horrifying.

But despite the house, I have been happy here. We have been on many scary/fun adventures. We went to a lighthouse and I got to walk on a rocky beach at the ocean below it. Then, this huge truck showed up with a giant hose that hooked up to the little green houses marked " men and women", and started making a loud sound. Then all of a sudden everything smelled like my poops. It was weird. 

Yesterday, my Mom and Dad took me into town...

It wasn't too bad...until the huge trucks came. Why do they have to be so loud?? Anyway, we stopped into a store that smelled great. It was filled with dog treats, dog toys and other really cool stuff. But instead of buying me any of that stuff, Mom and Dad bought me...this!

They all made a huge fuss over how great I look in it. Although, I do kinda like how it feels, I think I look stupid. But, what am I gonna do? I had no idea what this new thing was for, but it didn't take long to figure it out. See, this lake has this cool dock which I get to stand on and watch everything. But, it also has this scary floating thing way out in the water...

My Dad is constantly swimming out there and begging me to jump in and come out and join him. It's very frustrating because I really, really want to, but it's just so scary. So mostly I just stand on the very edge of the dock and whine and whine and whine. Ok...my parents seem to think that this new jacket thing will make jumping into the freezing water less scary. See why I'm worried about them? Well, yesterday, there I was on the edge whining when suddenly I either slipped, or somebody pushed me...probably Uncle Ron. Anyway, the other times I've been swimming, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of the water, but this time, it seemed easier, less scary. Before I knew what was happening, there I was swimming out to the scary float thing...

I made it!!! I also found out that I could fetch balls while I was out there which was great fun except for the fact that I kept getting water up my nose. Still, very fun. When it was time to swim back to the dock, I got to go swimming with Dad!!!

Coolest. Thing. Ever!!!

Although, by the time we made it to the dock, I was starting to worry about Dad. He looked exhausted!!! Maybe he needs one of these stupid, ugly jackets.

So, that was my day yesterday. Fun, and scary. Story of my life lately.

Lobstah Dinnah

Day 11

For those of you who secretly resent these celebratory vacation posts, I should admit that yesterday it poured down rain all day. Not only that but it was our fourth consecutive day without sunshine. Even though one prepares for bad weather on vacation, after four days you've used up all of your bad weather day activities. We went to see a lighthouse. A museum was visited. Bills were paid. We've probably read more books in four days than Donald Trump has his entire life. So, last night...desperate for stimulation...we decided to have a lobster dinner, despite the fact that none of us have ever actually prepared a lobster before. This could have gone either way, but a risk worth taking. First, Ron drew the short straw and was forced to drive into town to pick up the lobsters...

We assigned our dinner guests names, George, Eunice, Ethel and Frank. They seemed less than thrilled to be here...

Apparently, crustacean lives don't matter. 

While these guys and gals were being introduced to the 350 degree delights of our lobster pot, the rest of us were busy with other things...

Pam whipped up some cheddar biscuits.

I grilled up some potatoes and corn on the cob.

My sister was busy comforting a clearly exasperated Lucy.

Now, it was time to check on our guests...

They had finally warmed to the place.

This morning the sun is back. Pam is already kayaking. Lucy is chomping at the bit to go down to the dock. Forecast?...75 and sunny.

Hazel's. A Life Lesson.

Day 8

This is the quintessential Maine roadside lobster roll joint. This is Hazel's, and Hazel's is everything that is right about America. Let me explain...

We had been out for a sightseeing jaunt to the Owl's Head light house and were very hungry and a couple of us were in urgent need of...er, facilities. Then we saw this cheerful, brightly painted lobster shack and since we had been in Maine for a week without eating a lobster roll, we decided to give it a try. Although I was looking forward to the food, I wasn't crazy about having to use a roadside eatery bathroom. We've all been there, right? You've been driving for five hours, you pull off at an exit to get gas and go to the can. You go inside to get the key to the bathroom...the one on the giant, filthy key ring. Then you open the door and get hit with the aroma of the combined urine of 10,000 of your fellow human beings, since it's been at least ten years since anyone has cleaned the place. Well, at Hazel's, they have a different idea. "How about let's make our unisex bathroom the cleanest place on Earth?"

I'm not kidding people. I could have eaten my lunch off the floor. The toilet looked as clean as the holy water bowl at the Vatican. The sink had a glossy shine to it...like someone had spent the day polishing it especially for my visit. The place smelled like Mr. Clean and Windex had had an all-nighter in there. It was like no bathroom I have ever entered even in the finest restaurants in the world! But, that wasn't the only thing about Hazel's that was clean.

The place had a huge all gravel parking lot...with not one single solitary weed peaking through the rocks, not one! How is that even possible? The picnic tables, all neatly painted in their signature red and yellow colors, were emaculate. Even the condiment bar was free of trash or even spilled sugar. Frankly, it was almost scary! Then, we met the owners, a couple of retirees who run this place just for fun during the summer months, then drive down to Florida for the winter. They were doing this...for fun.  And they were having plenty of it! The person ahead of me in line ordered the "cowboy burger" and the entire kitchen staff suddenly burst into an uproarious Yeee-Hawwwww!!! The kitchen staff consisted of the owner, his wife and their daughter, who all acted like they were ecstatic that we had chosen Hazel's for lunch.

But, friendliness and insane cleanliness can get you but so far in the food business. Then the spunky daughter brought out our meal...

For the uninitiated...this is a lobster roll. It's ingredients are few...a toasted bun, a boatload of lobster meat( with no filler nonsense ) maybe a piece of lettuce, and some mayonnaise to keep it together. That's it. It's lobster without all of the work of cracking shells and picking around internal organs and what not. And it is ridiculously delicious.

I am always fascinated by well run small businesses and couldn't help but have a conversation with the owner. She was a delight. Hazel's was named for their black lab, Hazel, and was their seventh and last business. They were retired. They ran the place during the summer for the fun of it. When I complimented her on how fantastically clean the place was she said, " Well, over the years we've found that there are two things you can do that don't cost you anything...keep a clean place and be friendly.

And, have fun, apparently. Yee-Hawwww!!