Saying Goodbye to Maine

Friday will be our last day here, bringing to an end what has been seven weeks in Maine for 2021. As I was on the lake fishing this morning I tried to calculate how much time I have actually spent up here in my 63 years. It’s fuzzy and all runs together in my memory, all the trips to Webb Lake with the kids, and the ten years of coming to Midcoast. The best I could come up was just a couple weeks shy of an entire year. Then, this afternoon, I started reading a book by the famous Maine man of letters, John N. Cole. He makes this statement which I found both jarring and profound, “I have not lived all my life in Maine, but Maine is the only place I’ve lived my life.” Although it is not completely true for me since I love Virginia and am proud to be a Virginian—a title that still means something—it is at least partially true. The time I spend here has had a greater impact on me than any place I have ever been. I think differently here, eat differently, do different sorts of things. Life feels different, less rigorous with fewer anxious moments. Time loses its relentless grip, freeing you up to stay in the moment…something that I have always struggled to do.

This will be my last blog about Maine for quite a while. We don’t return until July 8th of 2022. That means that from now until then life gets serious again. Back home we have stuff to do, jobs that require our attention, people to see, places to go, grass to cut. I will have two stacks of mail to open. At home it will be 75% political attack mail warning me about how diabolical some candidate is and warning me of how absolutely vital it is that I vote for the other candidate.  My office mail will be 75% junk that wild horses could not make me open. Sometimes I think if it weren’t for junk mail, the Postal service could cut back to three days a week delivery and no one would notice or care, not to mention how much less trash would wind up in the landfill. I received no mail in the seven weeks we spent here. It felt like a great cleansing.

Plenty of bad things happened while we were here. The world doesn’t stop just because we have withdrawn temporarily. A close friend of mine lost a dear family friend to a surprise blood clot in the middle of the night. He was 41 years old. Two family members got COVID. William Shatner went to space. This world keeps on turning. Sunday afternoon when we roll into our driveway, we will be right back in the middle of it all, having been refreshed body and soul by a place that never seems to change. The wind is still fresh in our faces, the lake still shimmers with sunlight, and the loons still call out to us. The lobster is still sweet, the shops still smell of balsam and the sea, and the people are still delightfully quirky. And we still haven’t found our dream camp, which only means that we are an entire year closer to meeting her. 

I will close with another quotation from Mr. Cole from the book, In Maine:

“In Maine, I have watched the wind being born, birthing in the western sky and then feathering the bay’s silken surface with the first tentative touch of its young pinions. I have seen the nor’westers make a sea of our meadow, rolling the high grass in waves that break on the crest of our hill. I have felt the same wind fill a sail with a hard slap that sets my boat a running. It does the same thing to me. It dashes its fresh chill in my face, clears my head and sets my thoughts a running.”

Lucy’s Camp

In the Dunnevant family, much is made of the LVV award, given each year to the person who best displays their complete and utter worthlessness while on vacation. Sloth, total absence of initiative, and general laziness are essential for anyone who hopes to snag the Least Valuable Vacationer award. My daughter is the undisputed champion of the LVV, but since she’s not on this trip, my sister Paula has been the runaway winner. However, if there was such a thing as a Most Valuable Vacationer award, this trip’s winner would be equally unanimous…Lucy.

This dog has been living her very best life since we first pulled into the driveway 12 days ago. She loves everything about being in Maine, but the lake is her Valhalla. She parks herself at the very edge of the dock, stretches her nose in the direction of the breeze and sniffs like its her job. She is fascinated by the leaves that float on the water, totally enamored with my lures as they glide across the water’s surface. But swimming is what she lives for. Yesterday, I had been out on the kayak fishing for about three hours when I turned a corner and spotted our dock probably two football fields away. Pam texted me that she was going to let Lucy swim across to meet me halfway when I decided to head back to the dock. When I got a little closer—maybe one football field—I called her name. Immediately, she launched herself off the dock…

Her favorite swimming time is when she gets to tag along with Pam as she takes her paddle board out…

Sometimes, Lucy can’t decide if she should take a nap or not…there are so many things to do!!!

But, as long as Mom is close by, a nap can be taken anywhere.

But make no mistake…this is Lucy’s Camp!

Giving the (Two) People What They Want

Pam and I are taking a drive today to look at a lake house. It has lots of potential but also has several drawbacks, but we are going to take a look anyway. Even if it ends up being nothing, at least we can enjoy looking at the leaves on the way. I’ve been watching this particular house for months on Redfin, as the price has dropped little by little. It is now comfortably within our price range. Of course, I’m suspicious as to why the price has fallen, and I have questions about the lake that this house sits on, but the place is absolutely gorgeous. We shall see.

Meanwhile, it has occurred to me that I have not published any Dad Jokes in a very long time. So, to calm the outcry from scores of readers…well, many readers…ok, TWO readers, here are a few.

My latest book is about all the things I need to do.

It’s an oughtobiography…

How can you tell if an ant is a boy or a girl?

You put them in water. If it sinks, its a girl ant. If it floats….

Luke Skywalker asked Obi Wan Kenobi if he stood a chance against Darth Vader.

Obi Wan said…

“Maybe Yoda, Maybe ya don’t…”

Marijuana and cold coffee is my favorite breakfast combo.

Which might explain why…

Ice mocha lotta weed.

Where do cow farts come from?

The dairy air….

Pam’s Pictures

Pam heads out pretty much every morning on her kayak. Yesterday she was wrapped up like an Eskimo head to toe because it was quite cold. She took some amazing pictures while she was out there. Here are a few of them for your edification on this Lord’s Day…

And finally, a rare photograph of Lucy actually asleep on the dock…

Ivermectin and the Neighsayers

https://www.bbc.com/news/health-58170809

This article from the BBC will change no minds. People who are convinced that Ivermectin is a cure for COVID will continue to believe. By reposting it here, I will run the risk of being dismissed as in the tank for Big Science, or worse…an authoritarian Statist. This, of course, is unbridled nonsense. I am simply trying to rein in disinformation. I would be thrilled to learn that ice cream cured COVID, but it would have to be accompanied by plenty of peer reviewed studies with faultless methodology. In other words, a very rocky road of research would have to be trod before I would believe in the cure. It would appear that the studies done with regards to Ivermectin lacked not only reliable scientific data but also the key ingredient of all research…horse sense.

So, I post this and will gladly accept the blowback. All neighsayers are welcome here.

The Sound That a Screen Door Makes

There are advantages to always being the first one up in the morning. I get to watch the sun come up. Some days are more glorious than others, but they are all delightful.

Lucy had a big day yesterday. She spent a lot of her time in the water, swimming all over the place with endless energy and curiosity. Probably the highlight of her day was when Ron and I did our version of the polar plunge, by jumping in with her. The water temperature was 60 degrees, which for native Mainers would be considered sauna-like, but for southern boys like us felt about as freezing cold as it is possible to get!

I will say this…when you jump into 60 degree water, there is absolutely no question about the fact that you are alive. 

Here’s a random observation apropos to nothing. There are several screen doors at this cabin. There is a distinct sound that they make when opening that produces in me a profound nostalgia for my childhood. As the rusty spring coil expands and contracts there’s that sound, so familiar and evocative of a time long past. Whenever I heard that sound when I was a kid I knew I was safe. Does anyone else have the same reaction upon hearing it? My house doesn’t have a screen door, so I never hear it anymore. Maybe if I heard it every day it would lose its power. Perhaps its true what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder. Whatever the reason, every time I walk through one of the four screen doors in this cabin, I hear it and my heart says…yes.

Perfect

In this life we are not given very many perfect days. There is always something mucking up the works, bad weather, aches and pains…idiots. But yesterday was awfully close to being a perfect day. It started well, advanced beautifully, then ended with the Red Sox eliminating Darth Vader’s New York Yankees from the playoffs.

The morning dawned bright and clear with a lake that looked like polished silver. Pam woke early to take advantage with a morning paddle. My sister Paula, who is famous for not being a morning person, was greeted in an especially warm and affectionate way by her new best friend Lucy, who pounced on her bed at an unGodly hour to welcome her to consciousness…I is awake, you wake up too, hooman!! Thus began a day where the two of them would compete for space on the one sofa in the living room. Lucy is quite particular about her, uh…sofa space. At home, she is allowed on only two pieces of furniture, our bed and the sofa downstairs that has her blanket draped across it. So, at camp we do the same thing. We place a blanket on one of the sofas which tells her that it is ok to sit. Unfortunately, Lucy sometimes interprets this to mean that the entire sofa belongs to her exclusively. Instead of sitting to one side or the other, she plants herself directly in the center. When anyone else decides to sit down, she insists that they don’t get too close. Lucy, being psychotic, requires her own personal space, except on the occasions when she very much wants to get all up in everyone else’s space! After a day of this dance, Paula decided while watching the game that she wanted to stretch out. Ron sat down at one end, Lucy was dispatched to the floor, and Paula got herself comfortable, stretching out her full length. Lucy was about to teach Aunt Paula what having a dog was all about. She walked over to the sofa and began her work. She just stood there, mouth opened, pink tongue out, a devious smile on her face and started staring, her mesmerizing brown eyes locked on to Paula’s. This was going to be no contest. It might take a while, but Lucy was not going to be denied. After several uncomfortable minutes of this Mexican standoff, Lucy pounced, launching herself up on the sofa, on Paula’s legs, then burrowed and shifted back and forth until room was made, then curled up in a tight ball in between them…mission accomplished! Lucy is living her best life.

Once Pam got back from her paddle, we all headed in to Camden for breakfast at the Deli and some shopping. Dropped over a hundred bucks at the Smiling Cow which is actually better than average. Meg, the owner gave all four of us free pieces of a fresh batch of pumpkin fudge, probably because she feels guilty for taking all of our money. Then we walked up and down Main Street for an hour or so, popping in and out of all our favorite shops. More money changed hands…it ain’t cheap being on vacation in Maine.

When we arrived back at camp, we all swore off lunch because of the ridiculous amount of calories we had consumed at breakfast, what with three ginormous blueberry pancakes the size of hubcaps drenched in maple syrup. So, with no lunch to fix that meant that it was time for fishing. I caught six nice sized fish and  had a blast touring the lake while doing so. Eventually I hooked up with Ron who was out on his own fishing adventure. His kayak pulls up to mine and he says…I need some help! He had hooked his lure onto the tie rope at the front of the kayak and couldn’t get it loose. My delicate touch resulted in destroying the lure with a pair of pliers then sending him on his way!

Meanwhile, back at the dock, Lucy was entertaining Paula and Pam with her swimming skills, fetching her frisbee out of 60 degree water like it was nothing.

After fishing, a nap was enjoyed.

Then Pam made a delicious salmon dinner. You might be asking yourselves why Pam would be cooking dinner. After all, we invited Ron and Paula to come up here to stay with us…for free. Shouldn’t that fact warrant some sort of payback which might involve preparing meals? Well, here’s the thing. Paula made a pot of chili before she left Short Pump, froze it and kept it on ice. When they arrived Monday afternoon she warmed it up for our dinner that evening. Apparently that has served as the sum total of her physical labor for the week. She is determined to dethrone my daughter Kaitlin as the LVV…(least valuable vacationer).

After dinner we all had a glorious time watching the $230,000,000 Yankees swing and miss their way to ignominious defeat on national television.

I’m telling you people, it just doesn’t get any better than this.

And now for some pics…