Good to be back...

Made it back to dear old Short Pump at 2:30 this afternoon. Have spent the past few hours getting reacquainted with my house. It seems bigger somehow, but the yard feels smaller. Lucy was quite surprised to be back. It was as if she never expected to ever come back here...and she was fine with that. But now that she's back, she's a very happy dog.

The mail had been collected by the US Postal Service all month, and delivered to us in a double grocery bag. Took me thirty minutes to sort through it all. Based on my consumption behavior over the past thirty days, the marketing colossus which is the American banking industry saw fit to send me no less than eleven credit card offers. I took surprising joy in ripping all of them up. There were several bills and a few checks so, some good, some bad.

It will be the same tomorrow at work, some good, some bad. It was actually that way in Maine too...more good than bad but still a bit of both. Such is life. Our month on Hobbs Pond was a delight, a treasure trove of memories that can never be taken from us, making them even more valuable as years go by. But every one of them was made possible by the very mundane things done here in Short Pump, the work, the day to day.

So, I don't despair at returning here. I miss Maine. I count the days until I can go back. But I will never resent the here and now or wish it would pass. Tomorrow I get to go back to work to make it all happen again. I have missed the people there. They are every bit the blessings to me that the loons on the lake have been. Come to think of it...I get to be surrounded by loons all year!

Pam is at Martins replenishing the shelves. Lucy is happily asleep on her sofa spot, and I am writing this in my library while listening to a live performance by Duke Ellington...Take the A-Train...

Good to be back...

Last Day...

Day 29

This will be our last full day in Maine. We will head into Camden Deli for some blueberry pancakes. Pam will stop by the Smiling Cow to pick out her whirlligig thing...a polished bronze thing that catches the wind and twirls around. Something like this...

She's wanted one forever so today she will pick one out and have it shipped home since there won't be any room in our car. We will kick around in town for a while, then make the drive back to the lake where the packing up will begin. It's hard to believe that this month is almost over. It has flown by. While doing so, it has exceeded our wildest expectations. The weather hasn't been perfect, but pretty close. The house wasn't perfect but pretty close. We never once got bored or ran out of places to go and see and things to do. The fishing was crazy. The lake was beautiful. The call of the loons, enchanting. We read a load of books. The television was on maybe a couple of hours all month...for an inning or two of baseball. Having no wifi was a hassle, but we managed perfectly well gobbling up data on our cell phones. Having Paula and Ron for a visit and of course, the kids, was wonderful. But we also enjoyed our time just the two of us. Lucy was a champion. She has had the time of her life and is now a lake dog for life.

We will miss everything about Duck Cove Cottage and Hobbs Pond. It will be a strange feeling tomorrow morning pulling out of here. Gratitude and sadness.

Waiting On The Storm

Day 28

Astute readers will recall that ten days ago I played a round of golf at the Rockland Golf Club with three wonderful Mainers in a driving rainstorm. Well, today I decided that I couldn't leave this place without playing that course in the sunlight. So I left the house at 6:30 this morning with no tee time and took my chances. By 6:55, I teed off as the first golfer of the day, with rented clubs and a push cart. Two hours and twenty seven minutes later, I walked off the 18th green with my Map My Fitness app telling me I had walked exactly six miles. It was the finest six mile walk of my life.

I shot an 86. Not horrible, not great. 

Two stories... My worst shot of the day was a badly hooked tee shot on a par five which featured a partially blind tee shot. The minute I hit it, I knew it was deep in the woods and hopelessly lost. But when I crested the hill, right in the general area where my shot probably entered the woods were these guys...

Yes, a flock of wild turkeys reminded me just how bad my shot actually was!

My best shot was on an uphill, into the wind par 3 that the scorecard said was 215 yards but looked much longer. I hit a 3 wood to 15 feet...

Me, being me...I left the birdie putt two foot short!

This terrific course featured lots of gorgeous views which I hadn't noticed in the monsoon earlier. Pictures don't really capture the beauty...

This particular one is of number 16 I think. I took it because to the left rear of the picture is a big house on the mountain that overlooks not only the course, but Rockland harbor as well. The water can be seen beyond the spruce trees on the right.

Now, it's 4:30 in the afternoon and we are waiting on a storm to pass through. It's all over the radar about ten miles away. I'm on one end of the great front porch writing this blog while chewing on beef jerky. Pam is drinking her afternoon coffee and eating French horns. There is no illustration that better sums up our relationship!!

A Bad Dinner...sorta.

Day 27

So, last night...after a long and lazy day spent recuperating from waiting on our four kids for a week...Pam and I decided to drive into Rockland for dinner. There were over thirty restaurants to choose from in our handy Guide to Midcoast Dining magazine. We finally decided on this place...

Archers on the Pier was described as being located, "directly on Rockland's pristine waterfront." Analysis? True.

Then we were told, "come enjoy an innovative and tasty menu." Analysis? Misleading. Unless by "innovative" they meant...make patrons wait an hour for a table, then another thirty minutes for their food to arrive, resulting in ravaging hunger which would make boiled cardboard seem tasty. The best part of Archers was arriving and leaving. We parked on the far end of the harbor and took a gorgeous walk around the bay on a wide and flowered boardwalk with the sun setting behind us. When we arrived we were told that there would be a twenty minute wait. We found a seat at the outdoor bar and ordered a Cajun shrimp appetizer which turned out to be the very best thing we ate during our two hour stay. The breeze off the ocean was divinely inspired, it's staggered timing, perfect! Actually, we could have sat out there eating Cajun shrimp for two hours and left happy. But unfortunately, eventually our table was ready...inside, next to the kitchen, in very close proximity to two talkative Italian 

retirees from Ohio. It was a loooong night. This was the before-selfie...

We didn't take an after-selfie...good thing. Still, worse things could happen to people than having to spend over two hours at a restaurant. We could have caught the Zika virus or even worse...been forced to watch the Democrat Convention. I heard that Bubba was particularly gifted/disingenuous in his attempt to describe his relationship with Hillary as a romance. So, thank God for slow service.

Last couple of days have had Pam on edge. She doesn't do well if she's "hot." Although, outside has been a pleasant 82 or so, this house has been a bit toasty at times. No air-conditioning will do that. The beautiful ceiling fan above our bed would ordinarily provide welcomed relief from the sometimes muggy conditions. But in our case the fan is merely ornamental since turning it on would send Lucy scrambling out the door in a full fledged panic. So, we soldier on! 

Three more days here. With each passing day, the real world gets closer and responsibility starts to cloud the mind. Soon, this will all be over. Bummer.

Motives Unclear?

Day 26

When I scan the Internet for news, the headline is everything. For instance, if the words "Beiber" or "Khardashian" appear, the story isn't getting read. This is why I love the Wall Street Journal so much since every story in the paper begins on the front page, hardly any of which contain those two words, making my news gathering experience more efficient. Now, I'm aware that I probably miss many perfectly fine articles because of poorly written headlines, but that's life...you win some and you lose some.

But lately, a particular type of headline appears more and more in my news feeds. It is some variation of the same theme. This morning, it comes from the UK's Telegraph...

Isis Knifemen slit Priest's throat while yelling "Daesh"...motives unclear.

Yes, Telegraph, perhaps these Knifemen were unhappy with the Priest's views on Eucharistic adoration. Or maybe they were unhappy with the inconvenience of his confession hours. Why, just the other day there was the story of the Baptist Deacon who barged into a mosque shouting, "It is God's will!!!" and chopped that Imam's head off. What? You don't remember that story? Me neither, because it didn't happen. But, if it did does anyone believe that the New York Times would report that the killer's motives were unclear? It's like the old joke about the headline in the New York Times the morning after a meteor destroys New York City...METEOR WIPES OUT CITY....woman and minorities hardest hit.

...but enough about the path of death and destruction being cut through the world by radical Islam. Let's change the subject to something more uplifting, like the fact that even though all my kids are gone, Pam and I still have four more days in this beautiful place. There are still things we want to do and places we want to see. If I were reporting on our activities for the New York Times, perhaps the headline would read...Local couple frantic to cross "things to do on vacation" off of their list as vacation draws to close...MOTIVES UNCLEAR.

My Russian Problem

Day 25

This guy is big boy number two. I caught him last night around 8:15 after dinner, along with a couple decent sized lake trout. Then it got too dark to see the bobber. More fun than a barrel of monkeys. At that point there was only one thing we all could possibly think to do...go get ice cream.

There's an amazing little place in town called River Ducks. It sports this menu, which Pam has taken as a personal challenge. She fully intends to try each and every "Maine Inspired Flavor" on this menu before we come home!

A couple of odd notes...

When I woke up this morning after a fabulous night's sleep, I thought that one of two things had happened. Either Camden Cappuccino Crunch has regenerative powers that had miraculously healed my myopia overnight, or I had forgotten to take out my contacts. Unfortunately, it was the latter.

For no apparent reason, The Tempest has become quite popular in...Russia. For the past three days, I have gotten more page views from the land of Putin and Vodka than I have from the USA. Patrick suggests that it's probably something called a spam bot. Of course, his easy explanation ignores the very real possibility that my writing has hit a nerve in the Russian psyche. Is it so outlandish that the land that gave us Dostoevsky could warm to the stylings of my blog?? Patrick is sticking with spam bots. 

Still, what with all of the Russian involvement in the Wikileaks thing with the DNC, I shouldn't be too careful. If the Ruskies are in cahoots with Trump, my blog might be on some kind of enemies list. You know...the kind of blog that could reach an audience of hundreds with the subversive message that Donld Trump is a moron. Well, fear not readers...no matter what personal danger I might be placing myself in, my voice will NOT be silenced. Although...if I ever get arrested I fully expect all of you to set up a GOFUNDME thing to pay my bail.

The End Is Coming...but it ain't here yet.

Day 24

The kids fly back home tomorrow. Today was their last full day here. It has been everything that Pam and I were hoping it would be. And now that they are leaving, it's a bit sad for two reasons. First, we don't get very many opportunities to have them all together in the same house very often. Once during the summer, maybe for a few days at Christmas, and a fall weekend if everybody's schedule cooperates. So, these family times have become increasingly rare. But the real reason for sadness is that when they leave, we only have four more days left. These days have flown by.

But, there will be no whining and complaining. This has been an incredible month and we are lucky to have had the chance to come here. It has been a splendid getaway, more so than we ever dreamed possible. The fact is that God has been extrordinarily good to us, for reasons that remain a mystery to me. All I can think to be is grateful. 

We still have four more days, and I intend to wring every last drop of fun out of them. The rest of this vacation begins with tonight's dinner...a repeat of this...