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.

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.”

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…

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. 

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.

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.

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.