Hard Choices

I have been informed by my creditors that I will not be given a six week grace period on paying my bills, this after intense debate with them over the fairness of charging me for electricity while I’m not even living in the house. Unfortunately, Big Utility won the argument so I must spend the morning paying them along with a host of other unused products and services I continue to be billed for while I am away. The struggle is real.

In other news, yesterday was our most glorious weather of the trip and today promises more of the same. High temperature 79, very low humidity with sunny skies and diminished winds. Ideal conditions exist for fishing, kayaking, swimming and anything else it is possible to do legally while out of doors. The only thing that will be missing are our kids. Kaitlin and Jon aren’t here because this summer is their 10th wedding anniversary and they have a big trip planned to the British Isles in store for much of July. Meanwhile, Patrick and Sarah just celebrated their 6th anniversary spending a long weekend in Philadelphia. They plan to visit us when we are up here for four weeks in the Fall. So it turns out that our kids have lives of their own. Although this revelation has been disappointing to us we are told that it is totally natural and in fact healthy. Whatever…

At some point very soon Pam and I are going to come up with the resolve necessary to actually drive into town for dinner at a restaurant. One would think we would have done so already. First of all, we’ve been here for eleven days now and second of all, Camden and Belfast are packed with so many fine eateries, an embarrassment of culinary riches. All it requires of us is the effort it takes to come inside, take a shower, get properly dressed and pick a restaurant. So far this has seemed like a daunting task to us. It sounds like such hard work and it would require pro-active decision making on our part. This isn’t nearly as easy at it appears at first glance. Feel like Italian food? Well, there’s Ports of Italy and Delvino’s. Try making that decision! Or maybe you’re thinking seafood. There are only a half dozen great places to decide between. Good luck. Then, there’s the lake. If we leave here to go into town for dinner it would be just like Quantabacook to put on a light show of a sunset while we’re gone, and we would miss it! Either that or a dozen loons would show up in our cove and perform an hour long concert in our absence. I mean…do we risk it?

Here’s What We’ve Been Up To

Now that we are firmly ensconced into Week Two here in Maine it would be a fair question to ask—What have we been doing? Well, aside from an unscheduled emergency room visit, things have gone swimmingly… see what I did there? When you’re up here you have lots of time to hone your dad joke skills.

So, there have been a few highlights. First, our introduction to a new place to get fat—Ruckus Donuts in Rockland, Maine.

These babies take five hours to make from scratch, taste like heaven, and the owners promise to give you 25% off your first bypass operation.

Last night Pam and I had a delightful sunset paddle. It’s been quite windy here since we arrived but last night the breeze tapered off just in time for a sunset show.

We even got a glimpse of a rainbow.

As sunsets go here on Quantabacook, this one was nothing special, but it was so peaceful out there on the water watching the changing colors, listening to the loons and watching Pam in her element.

Of course, Lucy and I have had many long conversations about life…

She does this a lot. She will see me seated in a chair and immediately plop herself across my lap where she expects me to tell her what a good girl she is. After I have sufficiently extolled her many virtues for ten minutes or so she plops down and goes about her business. We also take naps together…

Yeah, so that about covers it. We eat delicious food, we spend lots of time in and on the water, we take naps, read books, fish, Pam does cross-stitch and we talk about things.

Just living the lake life.

This Time it was my Turn at the ER

This one will be hard to explain without sounding like an idiot. But any blog worth its salt can’t be all self-promotion all the time. Every once in a while you have to admit to incompetence. So, this afternoon I spent an hour or so in the emergency room with a three-pronged hook submerged in my forearm…

It’s not really a long story. I was on the dock casting one of my favorite lures when on my backswing it got entangled in Lucy’s collar. When I turned to unhook her it released on its own and flung itself at warp speed right into my left forearm. I was wearing a long sleeve shirt at the time so I couldn’t see how deeply it was hooked. I sat down and began trying to yank it out like I’ve done many times before, only this time it wouldn’t budge. Instead, each time I yanked it seemed to hurt more and plunge deeper. At this point I managed to walk to the cabin where I thought it might be wise to cut the sleeve of my shirt off so I could see what I was up against. That’s when I learned that the hook had embedded itself rather deeply and the tip of the hook was coming out of the skin a quarter of an inch to the side. This explains why it wouldn’t come out. At this point I thought it might be wise to call Pam’s cellphone to let her know about my predicament. She was in Belfast buying our dinner at Hannaford’s. I completely botched the explanation on the phone—something I’m quite good at, she told me later—but soon she was driving me to the Pen Bay Emergency Room, where one of the doctors actually volunteered to take my case because she was dying to see how somebody could hook themselves with a fishing lure that required a doctor to remove. Dr. Lu was quite impressed with the wound and showed up armed with wire-cutters and a pair of pliers. 

My first words to her were, “Doc, do you think you can save this lure? It’s one of my favorites” She smiled broadly, numbed my arm and sat about clipping the hook in two then sliding the jagged edge out. After a tetanus shot and an antibiotic prescription I was on my way back to the lake, the Dunnevant family’s second adventure at Pen Bay in less than a year.

Unfortunately I ruined a perfectly good long sleeve shirt and that lure is going to need some work.

Lake life is not for the feint of heart.

The Presidential Debate Debacle

Ok, so last night there was a presidential debate that I didn’t watch because, well…ewww. Look, I’m in Maine and there are certain privileges and responsibilities that come with it, primarily the fact that you never intentionally expose yourself to things that have the potential to inflict mental, emotional, existential or physical trauma to either you or your loved ones. At the very top of the list of such things would be presidential debates. So, Pam and I abstained. Instead Pam busied herself with her cross-stitch project while I tore into a paperback I found in the house library entitled The Couple Next Door. Two chapters in it dawned on me that I had already read this book a couple years ago, sprawled out on the exact same sofa! It was Deja-vu all over again.

While all of this excitement was happening the wind began to pick up. The gusts seemed to shake the house. The weather people had been calling for a clear but (very) windy day on Friday, so maybe the wind had arrived early, I remember thinking right before going to bed. When I woke up this morning at 5:00 it was still howling. The thought occurred to me, maybe it’s an ill-wind that blows across this lake. Perhaps something terrible has happened somewhere and this howling wind was our warning. The next thing that popped in my head after the “something terrible” thing was—“wait, there was a presidential debate last night!”

After brewing some coffee and trying to summon up some courage, I decided to do my civic duty and find out how the debate went. Maybe one of them had a heart attack on stage. Maybe Trump spontaneously exploded in the middle of one of his outrageous whoppers, or perhaps Biden wandered off the stage asking why he wasn’t given any bingo cards. 

To educate myself I travelled the slow internet to several different platforms that I barely trust and a couple more that I don’t trust at all but each had the same basic theme—“the president bombed” Sure, Trump told one laughable lie after another. One fact-checker counted 30 from his Orangeness, while tallying only 9 from Biden. But the big story was that Democrats are left in full panic mode over what to do about their nominee. 

Then I made the grave mistake of watching some video highlights of the event. I’m not sure I will ever recover. Something close to a miracle will be needed to rescue our Republic from the coming unprecedented election debacle. The world’s most powerful economic and military power is about to have an election featuring a congenitally lying convicted felon vs. a doddering, slack jawed old fool who can hardly string one coherent sentence together.

This country needs to be placed in Time Out. The Republican and Democrat parties need to be sent to their rooms and told that they will not be let out until they have nominated two new candidates, neither of whom can be over the age of 60. Maybe something like Marco Rubio v. Gavin Newsome or Ocasio-Cortez v. Marjorie Taylor Greene. As terrifying as those two contests might appear to be at first glance, none of those people have criminal records and none of them are on Social Security and all four of them will actually have to live with the consequences of whatever half-witted laws they inflict on the country while in office, unlike either Trump or Biden who are neither very long for this world.

There. That’s my take on our politics. Now I will have to figure out how to deal with 25 mph gusts whipping off this lake all day. I knew I should have packed those long sleeve shirts!!

Never Give up on a Sunset

There’s a lesson that this lake teaches us every year…be patient. Considering how many years we have been coming here you would think we would know it by now. But there we were last night, in class again.

Pam headed out for her sunset paddle too early. Our neighbor, Michael, took this picture with his real camera. That’s her out there with the sun still over an hour away from slipping past the horizon. 

But then it got hazy and the clouds started to thicken. By the time she returned to the dock we were both thinking that the sunset would be a dud. Suddenly, just as we settled in our chairs for the evening we noticed a brightness in the room…

None of the pictures I took were able to capture it. From this point it began to expand north and south. Multiple colors began to arrive, painting the cloud layers with new light, setting the lake on fire. You’ll have to take my word for it, or come see for yourself. 

Looking at these two photographs, its hard to believe they were taken on the same evening, on the same lake. A mere hour made that much difference. We are always surprised by this. We shouldn’t be. We watched this unfold from about 8:15 until 9:00. Every time we looked something had changed, something we hadn’t noticed before, something new and astonishing. 

The experience has gotten me thinking, sometimes a dangerous thing. How often have I given up on something prematurely, some thorny situation, a difficult project, even another human being? Suppose I had just stepped back and given the situation time to grow? Would a bit of patience have rewarded me? Living on this lake forces you to be patient. There is no other option. The weather changes on a dime, so you wait until it blows over because it always does. Yesterday started calm, turned windy, started with clear blue skies only to have a torrential downpour rumble through for 30 minutes in the middle of the afternoon, then clear out again. By nightfall, the lake was once again as still as glass. Patience.

Back home I tend to want everything five minutes ago. I have a difficult time waiting for anything. Why should I? Nearly everything a human being could want or need is available to me after a two minute drive. I have become accustomed to instant gratification. FedEx and UPS are on my payroll and my internet is as fast as lightening. But not up here. It takes time to do anything. There are two photographs in this blog. It will take a while to download. Might have to try several times before it works. The result of it all is that I am slowing down. Step by step my pace of living is starting to match my enviroment. This morning I will finish my second Kristin Hannah novel in the four days since we arrived. My screen time has plummeted and with it what feels like a burden is lifting.

Hitting Our Stride

We have hit our stride here on Quantabacook. The skies have cleared, Lucy has had her first swim, I’ve read my first book, caught my first fish, and I have cooked a couple meals on the grill. I have not left the lake since arriving here 3 days ago, Pam has only twice to pick up groceries. I suppose at some point we will head into Camden for breakfast or something, but there’s no rush. Pam has been busy with a new cross-stitch project. We are two matches into our annual Rummikub competition. If this all sounds a little, well…boring, then you just don’t get it. And, that’s ok. Lake life in Maine isn’t for everyone.

If Lucy could talk she could probably explain the vibe a lot better than I can. This was from yesterday afternoon. The sun had finally come out so I took the kayak out for some fishing and of course, she jumped off the dock after me before Pam could stop her. She had waited long enough apparently.

On my way back in I was surprised by the silent, sudden appearance of these two loons who popped up out of the silken waters maybe 15 feet in front of me. They stared at me for a moment then lowered their elegant necks and disappeared without leaving the slightest ripple on the water’s surface. Magical.

I took this one this morning around 5:45, the first blue sky morning since we arrived. This is looking south, down towards Loon Landing. Today I will kayak down to the dam to fish. I will stop by and see if Keith and Carolyn are home. On my way back I will paddle against the western shore looking for Fernwood Cottage where we will be spending 4 weeks in July. We are told by the constantly changing weather forecast that today and tomorrow the high temperature will be 83, with highs falling back into the 70’s after that.

We will manage…somehow.

Lucy’s Magic Blanket

There are only two days that we “work” in Maine. Arrival day and departure day. Everything else is relaxation and the long slow process of undoing the damage that the rest of the year does to our dispositions. Today, being arrival day, was a work day.

After two days and 14 hours on the road covering 850 miles, we arrived at the Fraternity General store to pick up the sandwiches we had ordered twenty minutes earlier from Pam’s cellphone. Then another four minute drive to Summer Dreams. It was 62 degrees and misting rain. Lucy was excited and agitated at once. Before unloading the car, we reveled in this delightful cabin, walking through every room reacquainting ourselves with its charms. Then we sat down and ate lunch while Lucy paced around the house. 

Once we got the car unloaded, Pam drove to Hannaford’s in Belfast to buy groceries from the meticulous list she had compiled as soon as we got on 295 outside of Portland. I stayed at the cabin unpacking while Lucy roamed and sniffed every square inch of the place, letting out an occasional mournful whine at the fact that Mom had left. When we are in Maine, while Lucy doesn’t mind being left alone, she does not at all like it when one of us leaves. She believes that it is her job to keep all three of us together. Last night at the hotel, we had a two room suite, so Lucy plopped herself down near the interconnecting doorway so she could keep a sharp eye on both of us at the same time!

Pam finally got back from the grocery store, to Lucy’s great relief, but still she was not completely relaxed. She continued her nervous wandering around the house.

Then Pam unpacked Lucy’s designated light teal blanket, the one that we always use to cover sofas where Lucy intends to sleep. She knows this blanket through and through. She knows the look, the feel and the smell. Pam covered the sofa in the front room of the house, the one where Pam and I sit at night, the one that faces the lake. As soon as the blanket was in place, Lucy found it and launched herself up. Finally, she knew her place. Her blanket had arrived and now she was home…

This progression didn’t take long. She is sleeping through her usually etched-in-stone dinner hour.

The next couple of days promise to be chilly and rainy. This is not bad news. There is beautiful weather in the forecast later in the week. Rainy weather at the beginning of a trip gives us time to slow down, time to get acclimated to a different way of living. Our neighbor saw me out on the dock earlier, recognized me from past years and said, “Welcome to Maine.” I think that maybe all of us need a special blanket that tells us where we belong, something that reminds us that we are home and all is well.