Ten More Days

Pam just left for Portland to take Patrick and Sarah to the airport. The four days we had with them flew by. They loved Loon Landing and even loved the two cloudy days we had during their stay. It gave us an excuse to slow down and enjoy the quiet. They spent time reading and puzzling and taking slow kayak trips around the lake. In the evenings, Pam and Sarah cross-stitched for hours at a time. We managed to have our one and only fire of the summer a couple nights ago. Last night we had a lovely dinner at Fresh&Co in Camden, then dessert at Riverducks, which never disappoints.

This morning Lucy and I ventured down to the dock for some morning fishing. We both had endured quite enough trash-talking from Patrick about the lack of success we had been experiencing during their brief stay. Lucy especially had grown increasingly annoyed. So suddenly a very nice bass hit the line and made two dramatic jumps out of the water which naturally sent Lucy in to uncontrollable hysterics. When I pulled him in I made a call to everyone in the house to come see the evidence for themselves, only to discover that they had all walked up to the guest house. Lucy was disappointed to the extreme so I made the decision to walk up to the guest house with her and the wiggly bass. Once there, Patrick and Sarah appeared at the screen door and Lucy began her maniacal growling and jumping up and down with delight. It was pretty adorable. She loves fishing more than practically anything else up here!

Now, after cleaning the cabin up a bit, Lucy and I have settled in for some reading and napping while we wait for Mom to return, somewhere around 2:00. Its still cloudy and cool, still in the 60’s for the third straight day. But tomorrow promises sunshine and 75. Ten more days before we leave for Short Pump. I am starting to feel the end coming. I’m not sad or frustrated, just grateful we get to be here so long. Besides, there may be a fall trip in the works, plus there’s always next year. Lucy, on the other hand, will be devastated.

Magic

Today dawned cool and breezy, with a soft ceiling of thin clouds turning the lake the color of gray slate. Overnight the winds had shifted from the south to the north north-west. The people who predict weather for a living tell us that the next three days will be like this. We are thrilled. An appearance by the sun is not a requirement for happiness up here. A few cloudy days offer some variety and bring the chance to see the lake in a fresh new way. The most welcome benefit is the cooler temperatures, the warmest of which promises to be in the low 70’s.

Yesterday was stifling and quite miserable, so to make things exciting I decided to take Pam up to look at a property that had just come up for sale on a lake 40 minutes away. The pictures and some of the numbers looked very promising. Plus the trip up and back would be in air conditioned comfort. As soon as we drove up to the place we both knew it wasn’t the one. This is the most frustrating part of our four year search for a lake house, the mystical absence the aha moment. Pam and I know exactly what we want in a place. We can see it in our mind’s eye. We have never been at cross purposes in this regard. Only once in our search have we both felt it when seeing a place for the first time. It was three years ago when we walked onto a place on Beech Hill up near Ellsworth, Maine. The property was for sale by owner and included the furniture, a jet ski, a powerboat, two all terrain vehicles and an old Dodge Ram pick up truck. Nearly everything about the place was perfect except for the fact that it was an hour and half away from Camden. That and the fact that the owner—along with the key to the house—were in Florida and he could not be reached. We spent nearly an hour walking the beautiful grounds and salivating over the dock and the enormous rocks that littered the back yard leading down to the water, and peering through the sliding glass doors of the deck. Ultimately, the owner pulled the property off the market and that was that. He was offering the house and all the toys for an insanely ridiculous $465,000. Three years later when I think about it I practically weep!

Anyway, so we pull up into this sketchy, trashy row of houses and our hearts drop. Inside, the place actually looked better than the pictures, but it just didn’t matter. No matter how nice it might have been the prospect of being surrounded on all sides by other lake houses featuring an architectural vibe that can best be described as shabby-shack just wasn’t ever going to happen. After twenty minutes, we got back in the car and drove back home in silence.

Reading over this its almost impossible not to pick up on a hint of snobbery. Its true. We have become lake house snobs. The fault lies with On The Water In Maine, who have introduced us to some of the most lovely lake house properties in all of Mid-Coast Maine, and the specific property of Loon Landing, which have both managed to essentially ruin us forever. we will constantly be comparing every place we look at to this place. Obviously, nothing will quite do…

We are not demoralized, just slightly depressed. We hold on to the hope that one day something will come up for sale and we will both get out of the car, eyes filled with dazzling light as the clouds part and the voices of angels can be heard singing the Hallelujah Chorus. We were turn to each other and whisper, “magic.”

Pay Back

I must begin this post with an apology. None of my readers want to hear me complain about the weather when you guys have been sweltering in triple digit agony for a month. Nevertheless, yesterday was one of those rare days in Maine where its filthy outside. Not a whisper of a wind all day with 90% humidity which made it feel like 92 degrees. Yes, yes…I know. But, this cabin has no AC. For most of the afternoon it was hotter inside than it was outside. The next couple of days promise more of the same, with Sunday’s expected high temperature to reach 93. That is a very big deal for Maine. But, enough with the belly-aching. Nature has a way of offering unexpected grace. Last night around 8 o’clock this happened…

It seemed like Mother Nature felt bad and decided to pay us back. Pam had ventured out in the midst of it on her paddle board, leaving Lucy and me fishing on the dock. Even Lucy was enchanted…

At one point it looked as if the lake itself was on fire. Neither of these pictures does it justice but its the best I can do.

Today we drive down to Portland to have brunch with Patrick and Sarah who have been tooling around that famous foodie-town for the past couple of days. After that we will bring them here for four whole days! It will be their turn to experience Loon Landing. The weather doesn’t appear that it will be as nice as when Jon and Kaitlin were here, but the weather is at the very top of things I can do nothing about. Whether is perfect or not…its still at the lake!

Two more weeks here. Time is flying.

Not as Easy as We Make it Look

So, apparently we are due for a cloudy day with a few showers possible. We have had few of either since our arrival here one month ago. I will take advantage of the cloudy/rainy conditions by doing a bit of actually…work. There are bills to be paid, I’m told, along with some misc. professional responsibilities that cannot be indefinitely shirked. Sad.

The first thing I ask myself when I wake up here is, what day is today? Actually, the first thing I ask is, “why the heck are you awake at quarter to six in the morning??” Proletarian habits are hard to break, I suppose. The early bird might get the bird in the working world, but up here all it gets you is a view of fog on a still lake and snuggle time with Lucy. Come to think of it, that’s a pretty good deal.

I would like to point out something about our life up here while disabusing you of the false notion that we just lounge around doing nothing for six weeks every year. Nothing could be further from the truth. Actually, I adhere to a rather strict schedule. My calendar is very full and some days it’s nye near impossible to fit it all in…

5:45 Wake up. Walk into living room, stand at the sliding glass door staring at the lake for several minutes listening to Lucy snoring from the sofa.

5:50 Wedge yourself into tiny bathroom for the necessary morning ritual.

5:55 Brew coffee.

6:00 Empty the cutest little dishwasher in the world…

6:10 Drink coffee while snuggling Lucy, who unlike her owner, has the good sense to still be sound asleep at this hour…

6:30 Check baseball box scores. Continue mourning the tragic loss of Juan Soto to the Padres. Peruse latest “lake cabins for sale in Maine” emails from Redfin and Zillow. Here’s one that has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, gorgeous views of a wonderful lake and 1600 square feet of living space! Now all I have to do is come up with $875,000. Sigh…

7:15 Walk down to the dock for some fishing. 

8:00 Give Pam a hug as she stumbles out of the bedroom. Watch her stare at the lake for five minutes trying to decide whether today is a Kayak or paddle board morning.

8:15 Take Lucy out for her morning perambulation after she finally wakes up. Remember to take multiple sanitary bags since one never knows whether it will be a one or two poop walk.

8:30 Begin grueling decision making process over what to eat for breakfast. Should I have cereal with blueberries, toasted English muffins with peanut butter and raspberry preserves, or should I wait for Pam to return from the lake and get her to make bacon and eggs?

9:00 Compliment wife on phenomenal bacon and egg breakfast, then load up the kayak with gear and head out for morning fishing run…

All this, and its barely nine o’clock in the morning! I’m exhausted just writing about it! Vacationing in Maine is no where near as easy as we make it look, y’all.

Reward the Things You Want More Of

As I get older, I have developed an intolerance for mean people. Rudeness and condescension bother me more than they used to. People who have known me the longest might suggest that I used to be rude and condescending at times, and they would be right! I like to think that with age and maturity, along with the help of the Holy Spirit I have been able to eliminate some of my earlier habits. Still, there are times when I can be dismissive and rude, but when it happens I immediately recognize it and apologize. But this blog is not about me, its about the roll that manners play in the business world. For me it trumps almost everything else. Let me give a couple of examples.

In Camden there are lots of gift shops. Some cater to higher end tastes and wallets, some feature kitschy stuff. Our favorite has always been The Smiling Cow. But…why? They aren’t the cheapest. They aren’t the biggest with the most variety. So, what is it? Its simple really…friendly, courteous people. Each time we walk through the doors of that place we are treated by smiling, happy people, eager to help us find what we need. If they are out of something they offer to order it for us. A couple of weeks ago I went in to buy a load of stuff for Pam’s 60th birthday. As I was piling it up on the counter, the owner, Meg, says, “Is this for Pam’s 60th? You cant just give her this stuff in a bag. Let us wrap these up nice for her. Leave them here, come back in 30 minutes and they will be ready.” I did and they were, beautifully wrapped in gorgeous paper. I’m not even sure she charged me because I never look at a receipt anymore. That’s another thing, we can get some of the same things a few doors down at one of their competitors for less money. We hardly ever shop there because the people who ring up your order look like they hate nothing more than having to deal with me. “Oh great…another customer!” The difference is like night and day. I’m done doing business with rude people. If I have to pay a little more, so be it.

There are also more than a couple lake house rental operations in town. We have used several of them, but once we found On The Water In Maine, we found our place. The other guys feature a process that eliminates personal interaction. You pick up a packet at the office where nobody is ever there. All interaction is via email and automated telephone service. By contrast, OTWIM has the most adorable office you’ve ever seen, with people who’s purpose in life seems to me my happiness and enjoyment of Maine. If and when something goes wrong—washing machine marks up the clothes, gas grill grate is rusted over—a solution shows up at your door within minutes of your call it seems. There’s no arguing back and forth, they just fix it! They appreciate our business and want us to remain customers forever, so they do whatever it takes. Wouldn’t you rather have that than being able to save a few bucks with someone you don’t even know?

I want to do business with good people, with people who appreciate me, folks who take pride in what they do. Everyone from the guy I rent kayaks from—Dan the Kayak Man with Ducktrap Kayaks, to the place where I buy t-shirts and hats. I want good people to prosper. The price? Who cares?! The difference between price and value is the difference between a relationship and a mere economic transaction. Shop where the people know your name. Use chain stores as a last resort. Reward the kind of behavior you drill into your kids, kindness and courtesy. There’s plenty of it out there, if you know where to look!

Golfing With Doug

So, one of the things I do up here is play golf. This is an activity which I have ironically almost given up back home, but up here all I have is time to do whatever I want, and how great is it to walk 18 holes without breaking a sweat? I play early in the morning when its normally in the low 60’s, and I’m finished by 9:30. I mean seriously…there’s no excuse not to play. 

My golf course of choice is the delightful Rockland Golf Club. They are always accommodating with sending me out first thing in the morning and they have really nice rental clubs. The ones I had today were brand new. Back in Richmond, Doug Greenwood is always ragging on me for playing with 30 year old clubs. “Why don’t you try playing with golf clubs made after the Reagan administration,” he always says. Well, after today I must say that he has a point. These clubs were amazing…

However, the day began with a bad omen. Since I don’t bring my own golf gear along on this trip I have to not only rent clubs but also buy tees and balls. I usually buy whatever is the course ball in the big basket on the counter….

Chaos proved to be an apt description of my round. Started off with a huge drive off the first tee, followed by three consecutive fat irons, ending with an inglorious 7. I spent the entire round trying to figure out these new fangled irons, finally discovering that I needed to choke up a full inch. Once I did that I consistently hit almost every one of them a mile…only problem was each shot was ten to fifteen yards over the intended target! 



Yes, as a matter of fact I did have 23 putts on the back nine and 40 for the round. It was not the fault of the very stylish and brand new putter, more like user error. Alert golfers will notice that I only hit four fairways and seven greens. In other words, I did what I do best…scrambled. Hit some of the most amazing recovering shots from some of the worst places ever! Had a blast though. It should also be noted that I started the round with five golf balls and played the last two holes with the last of them. If you’re keeping score at home that’s four penalty strokes! Chaos indeed!

A couple more observations about life in Maine. 

First, every crossroads that calls itself a “town” up here has one of these…

The General Store. In Maine it always includes a kitchen that makes pizza, baked goods like whoopie pies, and Italian sandwiches. The one in this picture is in Hope, Maine. But there are plenty others close by. The towns of Searsmont, Union, Lincolnville Center, Belmont, Owl’s Head, and Morrill all have their own. The sandwiches and pizza they make are amazingly good. In fact, I’m picking up one tonight from the Fraternity General Store in Searsmont for dinner. 

Another thing, most people when they think of the Maine coast thing of the rocky shores and lighthouses and such. What most don’t realize is how mountainous it is here, so close to the ocean. I took this picture on the drive home from playing golf today not five miles from our lake house…

This is the view from Moody Mountain. Somewhere out there is the lake.

One more thing. Pam decided to take Lucy along with her on a paddle board trip all the way across the lake. That long house in the distance is a place we call the Dance Hall and its probably a third of a mile over there. 

When Lucy returned she was hardly even breathing hard! She is a water baby like none other.

These Two Women

I had just dropped Kaitlin and Jon off at the Portland airport. It was 10:00 o’clock in the morning. I knew that Pam was still fighting back tears back at the lake. This is always what happens whenever one of them leaves. We had a wonderful week of perfect weather with them and we both feel grateful to have had them here, but when they leave there is always a sadness that lingers for a while. It’s a parent thing, I suppose. On the drive back to the lake I spent part of the time listening to a podcast that Kaitlin had recommended, but the rest of the time I thought about her…and her mother.

These two women have a connection to each other that I suppose only mothers and daughters have. I can’t describe it because I have never experienced it, this mysterious thing between them. Although they are both alike in many ways, they are not carbon copies of each other, a very good thing. But, they understand each other, they get each other. The one on the left made me a man when she married me. Most of the successes I have enjoyed have been because I was trying my best to make her proud of me, trying to live up to the promises I made her in that church in front of all those people all those years ago. The one on the right made me a father, handing me the hardest, most demanding job I’ve ever had before or since. She tried her best to prepare me for what it would be like two years later to become a father to a boy. Although she doesn’t belong to me, or anyone else for that matter, she and her brother remain my most prized possessions. Whenever I have a bad day, I always think about them, and in doing so it reminds me of the things in my life that I have gotten right, the very best I have done.

Now, we have six days of relative quiet until Patrick and Sarah arrive. I will once again make the hour and forty-five minute drive to the Portland airport. I will hope for more good weather. We will cherish every minute we get with them because the return trip to Portland will come way too soon. Lucy will be thrilled to have them all to herself without Frisco along to distract them. We will do anything the kids want to do while they are here. It’s their vacation after all.

But until then it will be the three of us here soaking up the rejuvenating vibe of this magical place…