The Gauntlet Chronicles

Long time readers of The Tempest have had to endure many glowing testimonials of our many Maine adventures over the years. I have written of the idyllic tranquility, the fresh air, the off the hook food and the enchanting vistas. I have regaled you with a thousand photographs of us in varying degrees of frolic, smiles plastered all over our faces. Most of you tell me how much you love the stories and pictures but I’m sure that there are at least a few of you who get tired of the Garden of Eden shtick. For all those in the latter category—this blog is for you.

So far, our Fall 2023 Maine trip has been a comedy of errors, none of which have been funny. I use the term “so far” with great care since there are five days remaining in this misadventure and I don’t want to further jinx what has so far been a woe begotten mess.

Saturday, Sept. 23rd.

We arrive after a deceptively easy two day drive to our camp, the ironically named Vacationland, where we both casually noticed a missing paving stone at the stairway entrance. I made the prophetic observation, “Hmm..that’s a tripping hazard.”

Tuesday, Sept. 25th

Pam fulfills the prophesy by catching her toe on the stone, face planting on the flower bed’s border stones, breaking both bones in her left wrist, scratching her face, chin and chest while knocking her teeth temporarily out of alignment. 

Thursday, Sept. 27th

After two days of hospital visits, pain and angst, Pam undergoes surgery where she receives parting gifts in the form of a stylish, cutting edge metal plate inserted permanently in her wrist along with several screws to hold it in place. We spend the following four days dealing with this new reality meaning that our first full week of vacation turned out to be the opposite of everything that term is supposed to mean.

Saturday, Sept. 30th

The cavalry arrives in the form of Paula and Ron Roop, who thought they were coming to Maine for all the usual reasons only to discover that their real job was now cooking and helping me take care of my disappointed and traumatized wife. I should say at this point that Pam limited her “disappointed and traumatized” moments to one or two brief tearful minutes per day. The rest of the time she was an amazingly brave and resilient patient.

Friday and Saturday, Oct. 6-7

Some tropical storm rolls into Mid-Coast Maine dropping 2-3 inches of rain which transforms our formerly useless dock into a completely useless one. Now, in  addition to the mud-guarded quagmire guarding the approach to the dock, we had water blocking all other available angles of approach. Luckily for us, the next door neighbors had a natural boat entry style beach area where I could with great care manage to get my kayak into the water without incident. Unfortunately after the rain, that too was rendered unsafe, which I observed first hand when on…

Today, Oct. 9

…I unsuccessfully attempted to exit my kayak after a morning fishing trip. The incline was too steep, the grass too saturated with water which resulted in me and all of my gear being unceremoniously deposited into the very cold waters of Hobbs Pond. While this was happening everything seemed to move in slow motion. Instead of being angry and thrashing about like a lunatic I was strangely calm and methodical. After all, no bones were broken, nobody was there to witness this embarrassment, although had a video been taken of the entire affair it surely would have gone viral. It seems appropriate to point out that the fishing trip was not a total loss since I did catch this guy…

Our trip has not been a total loss. Nobody has gotten COVID. So far this entire trip has been vomit-free. We’ve got THAT going for us. Oh, and war broke out in the Middle East, which seems entirely appropriate at this point. I can’t wait to see what God has in store for us on our drive home.

On a positive note my big sister Linda and her husband Bill arrived for their first Maine trip. They are staying on a different lake with Ron and Paula. We drove over to their camp last night for dinner and had a wonderful time. Tonight the plan is for the four of them to make soup and bring it over here. As fate would have it, we have now discovered a foul odor coming from downstairs where a dehumidifier used to be. Its not there anymore because it stopped working about the time we arrived. We have finally discovered why it had been placed inside the downstairs bathroom, even though there was a fully functioning dehumidifier in the great room downstairs. We will do our best to mask the smell by dinner time tonight. Hard to describe the odor…its kinda like good luck gone bad!

Calm Before the Storm

Tomorrow is the beginning of our third week here on Hobbs Pond. When we head home next Saturday it will be nine months before we return. Rain is expected for the next couple of days and our last week looks to be considerably colder and wetter than our first two were. Linda and Bill are expected tomorrow afternoon.

Today started still and foggy on the lake so Pam and I decided to take advantage of the calm waters and tour the lake. Just as we were getting started I snapped a quick picture of her floating along behind me. It was only much later when I discovered that we were photo-bombed by a creepy dude standing among some bushes on the shore. Probably with the Illuminati or the Brandenburg Group keeping a sharp eye out for trouble.

The first half of our paddle was a delight. The water was still and the views along the edge of the shoreline were stirring. We got to gawk at the huge homes that dot the woods of this lake like citadels of wealth, their giant plate glass walls staring down at us from above. But there were also more modest, traditional Maine camps to see, many of which I could picture us living comfortably inside. There were a couple thick, knotted ropes hanging from tree limbs near some of the more worn out docks. Some of the old style camps left ample evidence that small children were welcomed, swing-sets and children’s toys still strewn about the yard.

By the time we reached the northern end of the lake we spotted a lonely swim float farther from shore than is customary with a passenger on board…

He let us get very close before he flew off awkwardly, his huge wing tips slapping the water as he tried to gain altitude. It was about this time when we finally had to change directions and paddle south. It was also when the wind started to blow, a chilly wind filled with mist. Towing a second kayak with a passenger, even one as delicate as my wife, ain’t easy into a stiff breeze. By the time I made it back to camp, my biggest concern was how I was going to get out of the kayak without popping a hammy. This was seven hours ago now, and my back is trying to explain to me how much things have changed since I was 30. I am beginning to get the message. The entire trip was only 4.6 miles, but it felt like much more. Still, it was worth it. We both got to see the lake in her entirety. Plus it might be a while before we get out again if the weather nerd websites are to be believed. 

Predictably, Lucy is nonplussed.

A Very Good Day

Things are looking up. In this regard, the weather has been a huge help. Beautiful clear days and chilly nights have provided the conditions for a burst of color from the trees which seem to have popped overnight. We drove into Belfast yesterday for some shopping and lunch at Delvino’s and were blown away by the gorgeous leaves on route 52 between Lincolnville and Belfast. When we got back to camp the lake had gotten as still as glass. Pam took this photograph of the swimming float…

Although this lake is lovely, unfortunately across the way is made up of mostly evergreens, so no color. Just around the point the colors have started to shine…

Lucy’s opinion of the place has much improved since she has gotten the opportunity to go swimming. Yesterday I was on the kayak coming in from a fishing trip when I saw a mallard duck swimming towards our dock. Then I noticed Lucy on the shore, ears perking up in fascination. I knew what was coming. When the duck got close enough Lucy jumped in the water, without her vest in hot pursuit of her new friend. Of course, once she got close enough to it the duck simply took flight leaving Lucy perplexed and disappointed. She thinks that any living creature on the lake is her friend despite the fact that we are always telling her, “the loons are not your friends.” I just hope she doesn’t confront a bear anytime soon.

Lunch at Delvino’s was a delight. We had this delicious appetizer that featured Italian bread, burrata cheese, pesto, and bruschetta which tasted like Italy on a plate. We had our meal outside in 76 degree, zero humidity perfection. Then a delivery truck pulled up next to us with this message…

Today the plan is to get Pam out on the water. The plan is to tie two kayaks together. The trouble will be getting her into the thing without incident. This house has a dysfunctional dock area which is surrounded by mud guarding all safe approaches. The only mud less way to get to the dock is down a steep, root-infested slope, and since the very last thing this vacation needs is another pratfall, we have borrowed the next door neighbor’s access to the lake. There will be pictures to follow.

Great Weather and Guilt

Aside from Pam’s unfortunate fall, we are enjoying picture perfect weather. The high temperatures have been in the upper 60’s with bright sunshine. Yesterday we enjoyed a fire down by the lake after an enjoyable trip into Camden for the semi-annual Arts and Crafts show. While Pam’s wrist might be broken, there is nothing whatsoever wrong with her credit card using fingers, which performed at peek efficiency. When we got back to the camp there was a Thank You card from the Chamber of Commerce.

Even though she is doing her best, Pam isn’t able to do many of the things she loves the most here in Maine, and we are both disappointed by this fact. On top of all that is that hardy perennial—guilt. Last night, our son conducted this…

This was his program, six years in the making, originally planned for 2020 and cancelled by COVID. To a packed house, Patrick finally got to conduct the concert on which he had worked so hard. By all accounts it was a smashing success. So, why the guilt? Simple, we weren’t there. Pam had looked into flying from Portland to Nashville as a surprise for him but after the wrist fiasco that was out of the question. This is just one of many disadvantages to living far away from your adult children.

On the plus side, Lucy finally got to go for a swim. Poor Pup has been so confused by all the medical stuff. All she sees is this gorgeous lake and her parents being too distracted to take her swimming! That all changed yesterday with this plunge…

So, we are making adjustments, improvising like a boss, making chicken salad out of chicken, er…manure. The arrival of Paula and Ron, aka, the cavalry, has been a godsend. The wonderful weather also has added much to our ability to cope. Maybe if it was cold and raining every day we would have packed up and headed home.

Out of Surgery. On the Mend.

I took Pam to the Pen Bay Hospital today at 8:00 am for her consultation with a wrist surgeon—a sentence you never plan on writing while on vacation. After an informative and comprehensive discussion of the facts of her accident of Tuesday the 26th, the decision was made to have surgery immediately…as in the next three hours immediately. This news gave us the time to go back to the camp and take Lucy for another bathroom walk. As instructed, I had her back at the surgery center at 11:20 am for all the preliminaries. They were about to wheel her back to the theatre around 1:15. I was told I had 3-4 hours to kill before she would be ready for me to take her home. I drove into Camden in a daze, never before having left her in the hands of a surgeon of any kind, one of life’s many blessings. Nevertheless, I was starving. Traffic in town was horrible since it was Friday, arrival day for the hundreds of tourists eager to see the leaves this time of year. I stayed on as many back streets as I could until I found a place to park, only to discover that there was an hour long wait at my go-to lunch place. I ended up settling for a bowl of chowder at Sea Dog, where Cappy’s used to be. On my way back to the hospital I realized that I was still hungry and I needed some coffee. Then I saw Bleecker and Greer just outside of Rockport, and since local places are always better than national chains, I pulled in and ordered this…

There are a million places like this up here, charming, cozy, and overpriced. This plain cup of drip coffee and a piece of something called Blueberry Ricotta cake set me back $12 bucks. On the other hand its nothing compared to what Pam’s medical bills will be. But right now, money is the last thing on my mind. I’ve probably checked the time on my watch at least a hundred times since I left the hospital. I hate that this has happened to Pam. She has been so very brave,  her Yankee resolve on full display. But I know her and I know how disappointed she is to be out of commission at her favorite place in the world. And because I know her so well, I know that she is probably thinking that she will end up being a burden to me and our guests. Complete and total hogwash, but that’s how she thinks.

Its funny how things work at a time like this. You’re going along without a care in the world then suddenly all your plans vaporize. Among the thousand things that race through your mind after seeing your wife’s wrist creepily askew is the fact that you need to get in touch with some people to let them know what’s happened. Who to call? For me it was a strange mix of family and friends. But it was a reminder of who really is important in your life.

Just about the time I was finishing up that pricey blueberry ricotta I got the call from the doctor. All was well. Pam came through beautifully. She was in recovery and I could come in to see her anytime. I swallowed down the last drop of coffee then made a beeline for the hospital. When I entered her recovery room her eyes were closed and I thought she was still asleep. When I bent over to whisper in her ear she mumbled, “best nap ever…” A few minutes later she went into considerable detail about the fact that her arm was not where it was supposed to be. Even though she could “see it” over there, she felt it way over here. No words of mine could change her mind on the subject so I let it go.

To see her laying there in the bed drifting in and out of coherence and completely vulnerable choked me up, so I quickly sat down in one of then chairs against the wall beside her bed. Then she suddenly announced that she had no idea why, but she felt like crying. So she did. The doctor assured me that everything went perfectly and that she would eventually make a complete recovery. I smiled at him, thanked him for his work and said, “Bless your heart.” He was very nice and professional. What he didn’t know was that had he botched the job I was fully prepared to kill him.

So, we are both back at camp prepared for anything. Up next is plenty of rest and medication to manage her pain and begin to heal. Paula and Ron arrive tomorrow afternoon. It will be nice for Pam to be surrounded by those who love her the most. At some point I will figure out a way to tow her around the lake in our spare kayak. Not sure how she will manage the cross-stitching thing. I may have to hold the frame for her while she stitches one-handed.

Putting the “Fall” Into Our Fall Vacation

Yesterday afternoon Pam and Lucy spent a couple of hours in the backyard on a delightful Fall day in Maine. Pam read a book while Lucy busied herself with finding sticks, mussel shells and rolling around in the grass. Everything felt like a scene from a Hallmark movie, right up until the moment when it didn’t.

These are the entrance steps to the cabin. The first time I saw them a few days ago when we arrived I remember thinking, “that’s odd, where is the third paving stone?”  To enter the house from the back yard you have to come around from the left of these steps. When doing so Pam caught her toe on the raised stone and went sprawling head first into the border stones of the flower bed to the right. The result wasn’t pretty. She somehow made it inside on her own power with an abrasion on her face, another on her chest and her left wrist at an unnatural angle. Even though she was in a lot of pain she somehow had the presence of mind to bark out a series of rational instructions…

1. “Call Tif and ask her for directions to the closest ER.”

2. “I’m going to need help getting out of this long sleeve shirt. They will want me in short sleeves if they have to put me in a cast.”

3. “Probably should go ahead and feed Lucy. We won’t be back in time for her dinner.”

4. “Can you fill up my water bottle?”

5. “How am I going to be able to paddle board and cross-stitch?” (Not in the resigned way of realizing that she would NOT be able to do these things, but rather in the rhetorical question style of How will I manage to do these things considering these new circumstances)

Meanwhile I’m getting queasier and queasier the more I look at the angle of her rapidly swelling wrist. Soon we were on our way to Pen Bay Medical Center where we would spend a little over three hours being expertly treated by a staff of the kindest, most attentive medical professionals you would ever want to encounter while on vacation. I watched my wife endure several extraordinarily painful procedures with a combination of patience and toughness that I could not have managed if my life depended on it. In this way she is exactly like her Dad. There’s something about the Maine in her—no drama, no foolishness. You just screw up some courage and get along with it. 

So, a summary of her condition. She did break her wrist. The doctors were able to stretch the wrist back into a more natural position (which was about as dreadful as it sounds). Then they fitted her with a temporary cast that she will wear for the next few days. We will call an ortho doctor at the hospital today to set an appointment for as soon as possible where he will take another look to determine if her wrist can be set and placed in a more permanent cast, or, whether she will need to have a surgical procedure to insert screws or pins. In the meantime, I am waiting on her every need and both of us are planning on making the most of the situation. We are also thankful that she did not suffer a concussion from the impact of her face on the stones. It could have been much worse. Of course it could have been much better too. It could have been me instead of her. In every way that would have been a better outcome.

When we finally made it home last night and got settled I took this picture…

How is it possible that she could be so beautiful after what she just endured? 

Sunny Pictures and Daughter Day Thoughts

Yesterday the wind blew in from the north. There were whitecaps on the lake. Although the temperature was in the 60’s it felt blustery to this southern boy. So we drove into Camden for blueberry pancakes at the Deli. Afterwards we stopped in the Smiling Cow, chatted with Meg and picked up some gifts for the kids back home. Pam got started on a new cross-stitching project while I was hard at work taking a mid-morning snoozle and an afternoon nipper-napper with Lucy. If this sounds to you like a boring uneventful day, then we can’t be friends. Today promises to be much more physically active. There will be fishing and kayaking. However, since it is currently 42 degrees, the aforementioned activity will have to wait. Yes. I am a thin-blooded southern wimp. Sue me.

I promised you sunny pictures of the place so here they are:

The view from the dock looking north.

The southern view.

The house and the lovely lawn.

The fire pit.

On to other matters. Ok, so last night I pulled up a social media account and was bombarded by photographs of …daughters. It seems that yesterday was National Daughters Day. The first thing that popped into my head was, says who? When did this happen? I don’t remember this actually being a thing. Was there a vote? I have nothing against daughters, mind you, its just that it felt a bit contrived and manipulative, probably a conspiracy cooked up by the greeting card companies—Big Sentiment. I will not be coerced into posting pictures of mine in this space. But I will offer a few words on their behalf. Kaitlin is about the finest human being I know, a brilliant teacher with a first rate mind and a heart full of compassion. She’s smart, witty and the best friend you could ever ask for. Sarah is my daughter-in-law who my son had the good sense to marry. She too is super smart and creative. She has the voice of an angel and makes the most beautiful charcuterie trays known to exist in the free world. Both of them are beautiful, accomplished women. But I don’t need a National Daughter Day to remind me of their worth.