The Grandkids

We are home. We arrived safe and sound late Sunday evening. But not before spending 4 days with the grandkids. Those sweet little munchkins that I want to pile bricks on their heads just to keep them from growing up. It's just not fair how fast they grow.

Now this one.

This one talks non-stop. The only reason she isn't talking here is because she was busy giving me her cheesy can we hurry up and get this over with smile. This one needs a brick desperately. She now attends pre-school twice a week and plays soccer. (Play might be a bit strong of a word for what happened last Saturday, but more on that later.) And she berry loves her Grammy. She told me so herself.

And then there is THIS one.

He is non-stop motion. I do believe the only time he is still is when he is sleeping. And then I'm pretty certain he is dreaming about scaling Mt. Everest. He doesn't talk yet. At least not so you understand. He jibbers a lot, and squeels. Squeels real loud when things don't quite go his way. Which is rarely, because he's a charmer. He'll charm the socks right off of you, get the keys to your car and con you out of your credit cards before you know what hit you. All with a smile that will melt your heart.

On Thursday evening we attended soccer practice with Allie. She listened attentively to her coach. Did exactly what he said. Kicked the ball. Dribbled around cones. But aggressive she was not. At least not yet. Saturday was her first game. The big day dawned overcast and threatening. But that didn't dampen her spirits or her desire to don her "soccer dress." (Those are her words not mine.)

When we arrived at the park our little missy took her place on the field with the other players and this is the expression that stayed on her pretty little face until the final whistle blew. She walked, s l o w l y up and down the field following the play of the ball. When the ball came whizzing past her, the expression stayed in place and her pace remained slow and steady. Dad gave her a pep talk at half time but to no avail. Our little princess was overwhelmed and just not certain what was expected of her. I imagine things will change as she becomes comfortable with the coach and the game. If not, I'm afraid she will have to turn in her new red soccer dress and that won't make her happy at all.

Oh yea, he can charm the socks right off you. And you won't mind a bit.

From Maine to Manhatten

After a month in the north woods with NO traffic and not many people, you can imagine the culture shock that hit us when we visited the fabulous island of Manhattan on Sunday.

And no it wasn’t in the original plan for this trip. But we have been known to re-plan should a better offer come along. And a day in the City was most definitely an offer worthy of consideration.

We began the day zipping through traffic, flying under the George Washington Bridge, zooming by the Intreped and gawking appropriately as the bustling city passed quickly before us. I think it’s important to share that we last visited NYC 36 years ago, where the very same thing took place (the zooming, zipping, flying and gawking) with the very same cast of characters. The only difference was this time I was in the back seat of a much more comfortable Jeep Grand Cherokee instead of a VW Beetle. The driver and his driving skills remained the same. (The last two dark hairs remaining on my head dove for cover only to emerge as white as the rest of them.)

Oh how I wish I was home and could dig up the photos taken on that long ago visit to NY. I don’t think the four of us have changed one bit but you’ll just have to take my word on that.

And just like on our first trip we landed at Battery Park and boarded a ferry for the Statue of Liberty. It was a glorious fall day with bright sunshine and temperatures in the 70s.

We did a quick tour of Liberty Island and marveled at the beauty of Lady Liberty and all that she stands for.

We moved on to Ellis Island, and as first time visitors to this national monument were once again moved by all took that place here so many years ago.

It was not hard to imagine the excitement and fear that was felt by those less fortunate immigrants who passed through those doors.

And in keeping with the theme of the day, we walked north to Ground Zero. It is a construction site now. But that didn’t diminish the multitude of emotions that washed through me as I stood quietly with old friends and strangers and remembered that morning eight years past.

Ladder Company 10 sits on the perimeter of the site a permanent memorial to all who lost their lives that day.

We ended our day in NY with dinner in the theatre district. Weeks overdue for a haircut, with only jeans and sweatshirts that smelled of smoke and pine you can imagine how I felt dining with the elegant sophisticates that surrounded us.

A walk around Time Square completed the day. The crowds, the traffic, and the noise were almost more than I could bear. It was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

And then it was over. We climbed into the car (after sacrificing our mortgage payment for September to cover the cost of parking), and zipped and zoomed and flew again, sometimes in circles, but always at wharp speed.

I think for me, the highlight of the past two months just might be the time spent with these wonderful friends, both in Maine and at their home in CT. The years melted away and conversation began where it left off ten years ago. We had such a great time together that we have agreed to do it again…soon.

Thanks for a great time A & B. See you in Alaska!

This morning I was up at 0dark:30. This was my last morning in Maine and I was determined to be on the dock when the sun and the lobstermen reported for duty. The sun was right on schedule but apparently the lobstermen didn’t get the memo. I found myself alone with my thoughts and my camera, mesmerized by the bright orange light blanketing the harbor. Within minutes the light softened to pink and then to gold illuminating the boats and buoys bobbing up and down in the bay like candles in the wind.

I thought I’d leave you with some images of our little cottage on the bay...

as well as some of the other summer homes that line the water’s edge.

When we arrived in Maine it was summer. I’m not certain when it happened but it is no longer summer in the northeast. Fall has arrived. I wish I could stretch our visit another two weeks so I could witness the final transformation from the greens of summer to the colors of autumn. But I must head south. I have friends to visit and I have a date with a little girl a week from Saturday to watch her first soccer game. That is something I wouldn’t miss for anything.

I have a few thoughts on the past month I would to share:

Favorite Cottage: Beach Walk (this week)

Favorite Town: Eastport

Best Day: Whale watching

Best Moment: Stumbling upon Mama Moose and her children

Favorite Food: Lobstah Rolls

Best Lobster Roll: Helen’s in Macchias

Most Pleasant Discovery: Most small (tiny) towns have libraries with WiFi

Best Library: Sorrento (it’s close)

Favorite Spot: Embdon Pond at sunrise

Best Memory: Laughing with old friends

Biggest Surprise: How far the tide fluctuates. (And how much money you can spend on lunch when you eat lobster every day!)

Best Place to Sleep: HOME

I would love to spend the entire summer here. The problem would be deciding between the mountains and lakes or the sea. Maybe next time we’ll just head west.

Acadia National Park and Lobster Rolls

D and I have discovered lobster rolls. That tempting crustacean delight served on New England’s version of a hotdog bun. And while not cheap, (why is it that the closer you get to the source of sea food, the higher the price) these little babies are a slice of heaven on earth. It is also a way to enjoy lobster without the heady cost of a dinner and the messiness of tackling a whole lobster. I think we have ordered one for lunch every day this week. (I’ll worry about the food budget next week.)

One of our mid-day stops was the Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound. Trenton Bridge came highly recommended by some Mainers we know on Marco. The chief claim to fame is the cooking process. Trenton Bridge boils all of their seafood in large vats of sea water, outside, on wood fired ovens. And even though these weren’t our favorite lobster rolls, it was one of our more colorful culinary stops.

From here we eased on over the bridge to Mt. Dessert Island, the home of Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. After four weeks in Maine I believe I have run out of adjectives to describe the beauty that abounds in this state. Acadia proved to be no different.

We traveled the park’s loop road drinking in the miles of rocky shoreline edged with evergreen forest. There was a stop at Thunder Hole, where when the tide is low, incoming waves bounce off the back of a small cave in the rocks creating a booming sound not unlike the roar of thunder.

We moved on, making our way to the summit of Cadillac Mountain, the park’s crown jewel. The brochures indicate that Acadia is the home to the only mountain range (if 3 mountains constitute a range) at sea level in the eastern U.S. Henna and I would never consider challenging that claim.

The changing colors of the landscape indicate fall is creeping ever closer in the northeast. It’s unfortunate that my camera and I will be soaking in the Florida sunshine when the annual autumn display is at its peak.

However, there are two more days remaining in the Maine adventure and I intend to make the most of them.

Points south

On Saturday we packed up and moved one hour south to the tiny harbor town of Sorrento. Sorrento sits across the bay from Bar Harbor keeping a watchful eye on the town and the mountains of Acadia National Park.

And while the scenery surrounding each of our locations has been spectacular, this time we hit the jackpot in lodging. Beach Walk faces west and overlooks Frenchman’s Bay. It is the largest of our Maine residences boasting three bedrooms, two bathrooms and large, bright gathering rooms. (A & B you should have visited us here.) The view from the deck is the best by far, due more to fewer obstructions than anything else.

This morning I sat with my coffee and watched lobstermen check their traps. It was fascinating studying these rugged cowboys of the northeast circle a buoy, snag the line, and drag it on board. The traps were emptied, baited and tossed back to the sea before the process was repeated, all done single handedly. What a solitary life these men choose to lead. Or perhaps they don’t choose their profession at all, they inherit it.

Yesterday we ventured north to the portion of Acadia National Park that is less famous. It was a gloomy, overcast day but the park was impressive in spite of the weather.

By now you all must be tired of fishing villages, lobster boats and rocks. I still can’t get enough of any of it, always in search of the perfect photograph. (When I find it I will be sure to let you know.) Below are a couple of shots from Acadia as well as Sorrento’s harbor.

Enjoy.

Thar She Blows

A chance meeting with a couple in the Laundromat on Wednesday led us to the town of Eastport on Thursday. And while Eastport was a blip on our radar to visit before leaving we had not expected our day trip to involve whale watching.

Eastport is another in a long line of quaint lobstering villages found Down East. However, it will stand out in my mind as the most picturesque with a historic main street lined with cafes, gift shops and art galleries.

After lunch on the harbor we located the Sylvinia Beal, a two masted schooner built in the early 1900s and my transportation for the afternoon.. D opted out on the trip; his history of seasickness keeping him landlocked. I have to admit that I boarded the Sylvinia Beal with cautious optimism, after all our moose expedition in Millinocket had been a bust. But I soon relaxed, determined to enjoy the afternoon with or without Moby Dick.

Our route took us along side Campobello Island and we spotted bald eagles soaring overhead and a couple of sea lions playing in a bay. All too far away for pictures, but thrilling to watch non-the-less.

As we approached East Quoddy headlight it didn’t take long for one of the crew to point out a baby Miensk whale off to our port side. We joined a handful of other vessels of varying sizes and shapes and the fun began.

If you have never heard it I can’t explain the whish that fills the air when one of these amazing creatures surfaces and purges the water from his blowhole. And the sight of those waterspouts is amazing.

What also amazed me was the close proximity of the whales to the boats. At one point we were all watching an overturned kayak off in the distance when “whish” a Hump Back had surfaced just 8 feet off the other side of the boat startling and thrilling all aboard. You just never knew where they would appear.

We saw mostly fin back whales and hump backs. At times the sea was calm and then suddenly they would begin to pop up all around. At one point I think I counted five on the surface at one time.

My photos do not do justice to this amazing afternoon and those magnificent mammals. Their size is beyond comprehension, especially when you consider that we never saw the entire length of the whale out of the water at one time. We might see 18 or 20 feet of back including the dorsal fin, never the head. And those awesome Hump Backs would suddenly breach, with an arch in their back that meant only one thing. A deep dive was coming and the appearance of the flukes, a hint at the power contained in the tail.

We ended our day at West Quoddy Headlight just as the sun dipped behind the hills. West Quoddy sits on the eastern most point in the U.S.; the first place to see the sun rise each morning.

It was an afternoon I will not soon forget and another item crossed off my bucket list.