Dominoes

Each morning around 6:45 or so I walk down to the dock and cast my line into the clear smooth water. I’m not expecting to catch anything, it’s just something to do while I think. Lucy comes down with me but even she doesn’t expect me to catch anything either. She’s there because that’s where I am. It’s just one of the many soothing rhythms we fall into here.

So, what do I think about on the end of that dock? A little bit of everything. Sometimes its inconsequential minutiae like why is it that I like Tony Soprano so much despite the fact that he is basically a sociopath. Other times I recall fond memories from my life. But lately I find myself consumed with the future. Suddenly I am faced with the prospect of major life decisions that will need to be made, decisions that arise when you retire and welcome a grandchild into your life—both wonderful things—but also game changers. The hard part is that any one decision you make has a ripple effect on every other decision that you have to make, like a row of dominoes before you. There are lots of moving parts to our lives now.

The First Domino

-We have lived in our house for nearly 30 years now. It’s paid for and we love our neighborhood. We just rebuilt the kitchen. If we sold it today we would have a nice pile of cash. With that cash we could buy or build a new house with a first floor bedroom—which I am told is a must-have for people of a certain age. Or, we could stay where we are, continue the upgrade process and do battle with stairs for the rest of our lives.

The Second Domino

-With the arrival of Silas, our life and priorities seem to have been completely altered overnight. It is killing Pam not to be close to him, not to be able to help with his care, to be a bigger presence in his life. It’s a six hour drive, not conducive for dropping by with a pot of soup when one of them gets sick. We could buy a condo near them for peanuts so we would have a place to stay that would accommodate long visits. There are very nice 3 bedroom 2 bath condos in Columbia we could pick up for less than 300K, but we would have to furnish it. I suppose that when we weren’t using it we could rent it via AirBNB, but it would be in Columbia for crying out loud—a place that offers nothing but 100 degree heat and Gamecock football—not exactly a tourist destination! Then, what happens when my son and daughter-in-law have a child? Then there’s the prospect that our kids will move to other cities. What would we do then?

The Third Domino

- We are still looking for a lake house in Maine. Every time we are here we are reminded of how much we love this place. We could make the buying easier if we just lived here year round. With the proceeds from the sale of our house in Short Pump, we could buy a lake house large enough to accommodate our growing family for years to come. This delightful prospect brings with it two problems. The first is that we have built a life in Short Pump. That’s where most of our friends live. That’s where our church family is. That’s where both of our extended families live. If we lived in Maine, instead of being six and nine hours away from our kids, we would be two days of driving away from our kids. Also, there’s the little issue of Maine winters, which would make dealing with stairs feel like child’s play!

There are two possible solutions to this dilemma. The first would be for both of our kids to move closer to us, somewhere within a three hour drive. Problem solved. The second solution is for one of my novels to hit it big, the resulting financial windfall allowing me to buy condos in Columbia and Nashville, a lake house in Maine and buy one of those stair-master deluxe model II’s for our house in Short Pump.

But you know what I don’t think about at 6:45 in the morning at the end of that dock? Stuff that doesn’t matter.

Recon Mission

Yesterday I played golf again, the first 6 holes in dense fog, the rest in brilliant sunshine. This time I played with two other guys, Al and Chris. I met Al the first time I played and he gave me his number and told me he had a standing tee-time every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 6:30, and if I wanted to join him to call…so I did. Oddly enough, Al is from Fairfax, a retired educator. The third guy in our group, Chris, was a guy that Al met on the golf course five years ago just like me, and they have been playing in Maine ever since. Chris is from Long Island. Now I have both of their numbers and we have a group chat set up. Chris’ vacation has been cut short because his daughter has cancer and he needs to be with her at an upcoming doctor’s appointment. I found this out on the 18th green. I’m honestly glad I didn’t find out about it earlier because I would have been thinking about it non-stop. I can’t imagine what I would do if one of my children had cancer. I think of friends I know who have dealt with the death of their kids and I can’t even fathom the pain and sorrow of such a thing. So I’ll be praying for my new friend and his daughter this week.

I actually hit the ball great yesterday. My short game is horrible, and I had a well-deserved 7 and an even more well-deserved 8, but I ended up shooting an 89, three shots better than last week. 

So, when I got back to Camp I walked down to the dock where I was greeted by Lucy, who had obviously been for a swim. But then I saw Pam..who had also been for a swim—something that never happens before 4 or 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Then she said, “Guess who fell off her paddleboard?”

A word of context…

I bought my wife a paddleboard for her birthday several years ago and she has put hundreds of miles on that thing every year on the lakes of Maine. She is a phenom on the thing. The only time she has ever fallen was one time when she was showing off doing Yoga moves on it! She told me this story. There’s a submerged fallen tree just on the other side of the point of this cove. I know it well since I have caught several fish there. It’s a long tree and in places it’s barely submerged at all. So Pam was out with Lucy and started going over the top of the fallen tree when she glanced down and thought, “whoa, that’s not very far under the water!” She braced herself for a jolt, but she cleared it without any scraping noises. Just about the time she relaxed, the fin on the back of the paddleboard struck the tree, sending Pam flying into the lake. Lucy immediately came close to get a close look at the mayhem. Pam was able to save her very badass hat but unfortunately her expensive subscription sunglasses are now amongst the sticks, clamshells other detritus that lies at the bottom of the lake. My job this morning is to do a recon mission at the site to see if I can locate the sunglasses. Lucky for us, the lake water here is as clear as glass. If its down there I will find it. Then, I will be her hero. Swimming up here in the morning is—how should I say this?—invigorating. 

Special Friends

The past four days we have had friends with us staying in the guest house. They are dear friends who we have known for many years. Actually, in missionary circles, especially at the International Mission Board, they are pretty big deals, or were, since like us they are both recently retired. They had recently sold their home in Richmond, packed up and moved away from us to be closer to their children in Alabama. They are currently homeless, living with one of their kids, looking for a house in the miserably hot conditions of Birmingham—something I could have warned them about had they cared to ask my opinion. Anyway, on a whim, we thought maybe they could use a break so we texted them an open-ended invite to come up and stay with us a few days, to escape the heat and relax. They have visited us here before but it had been a while. They accepted in world record shattering time.

Despite their celebrated reputations, the hummingbirds were unimpressed.

Lucy was nonplussed.

But we had a blast.

As you can see from this photograph, Leigh Anne didn’t have any trouble navigating her kayak. She and Pam took many adventurous trips around the lake together. Unfortunately the same cannot be said of Gordon. My one and only regret from our time with them over these last four days was that I didn’t have my cell phone camera with me when Gordon attempted to get into his kayak to go out with me on our first fishing trip. That photograph would have been pure gold…Gordon, wobbling, wobbling then getting dumped into the chilly waters of Quantabacook. Despite the absence of photographic evidence, I will always have the memory! While I freely admit that he caught more fish than I did, At least I remained fully upright in my vessel at all times.

If you’re lucky and live long enough, God will bless you with special friends, the kind who you wouldn't hesitate to call in a crisis, the kind who can be counted on to say “yes” to a last minute spur of the moment idea. These are the people who don’t care how you’re dressed, the kind that you never need to impress, or be impressed by…the kind of people who let you be yourself. 

Get yourself some friends like this…

The Funny Thing About Time

We arrived here on a Tuesday almost two weeks ago. About two days later I drifted out of any normal, human understanding of time. It happens every year and for some reason it always surprises me. This year it seems more intense. Maybe it’s because I’ve retired so I am no longer as trapped by the calendar as I was before. All I know is that time loses its meaning here. Let me attempt an explanation.

I wake up every morning before Pam. The sun rises around 5:10 and there is no way to block its light through the sliding glass door of our bedroom, which is only six or seven steps from the water. There is a lovely little sheer curtain that gives the illusion of privacy but is useless against the morning sun. So, there is morning and I enjoy the quiet, the stillness and the chilly temperatures.

There is a mid-morning here too, when the sun rises in the sky and begins to dominate the lake. This is usually when I venture out in the kayak or Pam takes out her paddle board. Sometime during this mid-morning the wind picks up. Some days it’s gentle, other days it blows like a gale. Sometimes we get caught out on the lake when it changes and the gentle lake we enjoyed when we left the dock just two hours earlier has turned into a beast on the return trip. 

There’s also a dependable afternoon on this lake. These are the warmest hours of the day. We eat some lunch, but it’s never at the same time from one day to the next. We eat lunch when we are hungry. At some point during the afternoon I take a nap. All the windows are open so there’s always a breeze drifting  across the bed. I enjoy the deep sleep of a carefree mind.

There is a delightful evening here. The sun sets a little after 8 o’clock. The wind dies down. We have dinner either inside or out depending on how cold or warm it is. I usually cook something on the grill. I fish off the dock between 8 and 8:30 every night. Almost always catch something during that thirty minutes. Then we watch the sunset. 

So, there’s morning, mid-morning, afternoon and evening here.

But somehow they don’t all add up to a day.

We both ask each other —what day is it?— what seems like several times a day. The truth is that neither of us knows. We have to glance at our watch to answer the question. Sometimes I think…are you sure?  The reason we lose track of the Gregorian calendar is that it doesn't matter. What difference does it make what the name of this actual day is? It’s not like we have any appointments. Each day that we have woken up these past two weeks there has been nothing planned for the day. We decide what we will do when inspiration comes. Often the weather dictates our plans. Generally speaking, if it’s gorgeous outside there’s no chance in the world that we will leave the lake. If the weather is less than ideal…overcast or too cold or too hot, then one of us will suggest a possible plan for heading this place or that. Then the other one will say, ok, let’s do it…and that’s that.

For the next few days it will be a bit different since we will be hosting friends. And for what it’s worth I have a clear awareness that tomorrow is Tuesday only because that’s the day they will arrive. I think they will be leaving on Friday, so those two days I’ve got down cold! The rest of the time will just be a blur, an amorphous block of time that we spend living in the moment in Maine, where the days have no name and the hours hold no power.

Finally, a Rainy Day

It finally rained yesterday. A heavy series of intense downpours accompanied by lighting and thunder, sending Lucy scurrying to her safe space in the bathroom. We used yesterday’s poor weather as justification to actually leave the lake and go into Camden for a while. I picked up fishing reinforcements at Maine Outdoor Sports, then we putzed around town for a while. Walking through the streets of Camden, Maine always has a sedating effect on me, so I stopped at Zoot for a hot cafe mocha.

Before the rains came our day started with watching our church’s service on YouTube. No, it’s not the same thing as being there, most often a very poor substitute. But when you’re 850 miles away from your church family, its a blessing to be able to get a glimpse of them all together. 

A couple days ago on Pam’s birthday, one of our neighbors up here, Gil Bryant, knocked on our door with a gift for her—an overflowing pint of fresh raspberries he had picked at his house! I am here to tell you that you haven’t tasted raspberries like the ones that come from somebody’s back yard in Maine. Ever since, Pam has been scouring the internet looking for baking ideas. She settled on something called a raspberry tart which includes Pillsbury croissant dough, raspberries and semi-sweet dark chocolate chips. Pictures to follow!!

This morning the wind is up, which always happens the day after rain at the lake. So far there are no whitecaps, so not as bad as the other day. Pam will spend most of the day getting the guest house ready for Gordon and Leigh Ann Fort who arrive on Tuesday. Looks like their three day visit will be blessed with perfect weather—bright sunshine, high temperatures in the middle 70’s all three days!

Finally, my favorite picture from yesterday…

Celebrating a Birthday

The last couple of days have been stellar. Yesterday we woke up to white caps on the lake. This morning when I poured my coffee it was 52 degrees outside and crystal clear. I had to put on long sleeves! Anyway, I played golf yesterday for the first time since last July. There is no excuse for this sad statistic. I am retired after all. My course of choice is the Rockland Golf Club with its views of mountains at one end of the course, Chickawaukie Pond on another, and glorious Penobscot Bay on yet another. One of my favorite holes (and one of the few that I actually parred) is #16, an uphill 390 par 4 which played dead into the wind which I reached in regulation with a tidy little nine iron.

Despite the long layoff, extremely windy conditions, strange rental clubs, and a troublesome blister that I developed on my left hand—which are all the excuses that I can come up with at the moment—I managed to shoot a 92. The best thing about this round of golf was the fact that I was finished at 9:30 in the morning, which meant that I had time to run into Rockland and pick up these beauties from the ridiculously fabulous Ruckus Donuts.

For the uninitiated, these guys are huge, nearly four inches across. The flavors clockwise from the top left are: strawberry shortcake, raspberry crème, blueberry lemonade, and chocolate espresso crème. The occasion for this decadence was the beginning of the weekend of Pam’s birthday. Today is her actual birthday and it will be filled with all of her favorite things. Dinner tonight will be at Fresh & Co in Camden, one of our favorite restaurants of all time. Shopping will take place.

So, next Tuesday two of our dearest friends are flying up for a last minute, spontaneous visit. They have been up before and are the kind of people for whom a lake house in Maine is perfectly suited for their vibe and style. They are only staying for a few days, just a little getaway. Like us, they are recently retired. We get to play host. The only thing more fun than laying around at a lake house in Maine is laying around a lake house in Maine with friends. Of course since they’re staying rent-free I will be trying to get Gordon Fort to pick up the check at every opportunity that presents itself. Wish me luck!

Lucy’s Mental Health

Our golden retriever loves lake life. She is never happier than she is on Quantabacook. However, the fact that Miss Lucy is happy here does not mean that she is…well. You see, our girl has, for lack of a better word…issues. What follows are but three examples of the sort of thing that we have been dealing with for the eleven incredible years of her charmed life.

A few nights ago in the middle of the night the smoke detector in our bedroom began to emit three squeaking beeps at an extremely high volume. The long story is that it was either a battery issue or a malfunction. All was well. But Lucy was having none of it. She immediately ran from our bedroom, taking up refuge in a tight ball on the rug in front of the shower stall in the bathroom. She was still there when I woke up at 6:30.

On another night (why do all these things happen at night?) Lucy was sacked out, dead to the world, sound asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. Suddenly, off in the distance, someone, somewhere set off a firework. I use the singular here because it was literally only one muffled boom. Lucy’s head immediately lifted off the rug, ears back, and although she was still clearly half asleep, she staggered blindly into the bathroom to take refuge on the same small rug in front of the shower.

Back at home, when I feed her breakfast she insists on me sitting down before she can eat. I don’t have to even be in the same room, but I must be seated or there will not be any breakfast eating happening in the Dunnevant house. Don’t ask me to explain this phenomenon. It is what it is. Well, here in Maine, Lucy has added a new twist to this particular neurosis…she now refuses to eat until both of us are seated! So for example if it’s just me and Pam is still asleep in our bedroom…nothing. We must apparently both bear seated witness to her breakfast eating ritual.

So, there you have it. Life with an adorable, beautiful, hilarious golden retriever is nowhere near as easy as we make it look.