On the Treadmill of the Sea

When we woke up this morning, it took me about an hour and a half to convince Bob that he can, indeed, dye my roots. After a lot of hemming and hawing on his part, I mixed up the hair dye. We went outside so we wouldn't make a mess in the cottage and he began parting my hair, coloring, parting my hair coloring. I stopped him a few times reminding him that if he got any on my skin (face, neck, ears) he should wipe it off immediately. He complained about the plastic gloves being too small for a man and proceeded to put them on, ripping both of them. I think that during the entire process, he was holding his breath. I stayed outside while he put the timer on inside. When it was almost time for me to rinse, I came in and noticed that he had gotten almost as much on my face and ears as he had in my hair. Oh well. Taking care to make sure not to stain the shower curtains, walls, or anything in the rental, I turned toward the shower wall and rinsed. After drying, I discovered that most of my roots, with the exception of some gray hairs around my hairline, were covered. Thanks, Bob.

Then Bob took some time finalizing our plans to take the rubber boat on its Maine trip 2 maiden voyage. One utterance, "I don't like the way that battery is charging" gave me pause, but I trust my man. Once he had carried the heavy battery, the motor, the seats, the oars down to the boat which he had already taken down to the water yesterday, he called that he was ready. The wind had whipped up, but he seemed confident. There were some whitecaps on the water, but, after all, we had a motor and we weren't paddling.

After a few false starts because of rocks on the shore and seaweed, we were off--it was a very slow takeoff, but the motor was working.

  Oh Captain, my Captain!

 Despite fighting the waves head-on (I was in the bow), we were on our way. I spied something in the distance and it dove. We kept our eye in the area and saw as he surfaced two harbor seals (Phoca vitulina). One had seen us which meant he would not surface close by again. We saw them later, but they were further away.


Bob tried to get us back to shore because the winds were getting worse (we found out there were gusts of 18 mph --which is a lot for a boat like ours). However, we weren't making much headway. Yesterday, while kayaking, I observed the phenomenon that had me believing, if I looked ahead while paddling, that I was making no progress. When one is kayaking, or doing any kind of boating (especially when one expends great efforts and progress is important), one should always look to the side, to see how objects on the side are passed rather than looking ahead at the goal. If one looks ahead, it seems that no progress is being made; when one looks to the side, it is obvious that things onshore are being passed. However, Bob realized we were making very little progress and decided the battery was dead. Well, that's why we had paddles. As hard and fast and deep as we paddled, the wind and the outgoing tide kept pushing us out. Now, understand that we could always wait until tide when in and then we could wade through the mud back to the cottage shore, but we were getting sunburned and we had already been out for two hours (paddling for at least one of those hours). Both of us were exhausted and no closer to the cottage. We argued strategies and finally, we both agreed to try to paddle or let the tide move us to shore, even if that shore was down the bay quite a bit from our destination--our cottage. I would say we paddled for for two and a half hours, but we were stuck on the treadmill of the sea. Even looking sideways, that one white house seemed to stay in the same place (which meant so were we). Finally, we did let the sea take us toward the shore though far from our destination.

At this point, Bob decided that he would get out of the boat and pull me and the boat along the shore.

This was a very difficult feat because Bob could not tell the depth of the water. A few times, he fell off the continental shelf and into the water (55 degrees by the way), but he insisted that I stay in the boat. There were some perilous sections (rocks) and we were trying to save the boat from gashes from the rocks. Bob often broke out in song--the Volga boatsman (Yo Heave Ho) song and an old camp song, "Our paddles clean and bright, flashing like silver. Swift as the wild goose flights..." in his rich bass voice (forced, of course).

 At times, I felt like Cleopatra on her royal barge, especially when i was yelling out instructions to him. Eventually (FOUR AND ONE HALF HOURS LATER), we reached the cottage. Thanks, Bob.

I rewarded Bob by allowing him to take an extra long nap, without interruption. I went outside and watched General Hospital via Slingbox for only the second time in two weeks.

We were awaiting word from our housesitters about our singing (screaming) air conditioner. We have two of them (one for upstairs and one for downstairs). The upstairs one was screaming (Kayla sent us a recording of what it sounded like) and was probably driving all of our neighbors to call the HOA to complain. So, this morning we called our service company. They couldn't make it out until tonight and, of course, they didn't have the part. So, our poor housesitters have to sleep downstairs and keep the upstairs air conditioner off. The repairman is hoping to have the part tomorrow or the next day. UGH! Why does this always happen when we're gone--cause we're always gone?

Tomorrow, shopping for our company arriving on Friday. Wednesday dinner with the McCowans (and a sleepover so Jenn can take us to one of her favorite quirky breakfast places). Then home Thursday for cooking for company arriving Friday.

That's all folks.

Just one of the many faces we miss--our beautiful Ana Isabella Furlong!

More Exploring

On this day, we got out as soon as we could at high tide. In fact, the tide was still coming in when we launched our kayaks. The tide here is a 12-foot tide, so we would be stuck in mud and sand if we didn't go out at high tide. Of course this gives us about a four-hour window (two hours before high tide and two hours after), unless we want to get stuck out there with no waterway back. So on this day we were out for about two and a half hours exploring the nearby islands and peninsulas. This bay has very little motorized boat use, so it's usually just us kayakers and canoeists. The water can get choppy on a windy day, but it can also be as placid as a lake. On this trip, a few exciting things happened. Bob, for some reason, never wants to stay close to me (no jokes here, friends and family members), and because of the ridiculous life vests we are wearing, and the fact that the kayak could tip over, it's difficult for me to look behind me (and that's usually where he is). I can never hear him paddling because he's usually that far behind (Bob likes to rest and observe nature; I, on the other hand, always have a goal and that pretty much sums us up, and our relationship. Hahaha!)

So, while I'm heading one way around the island, Bob (behind me) heads the other way, though I don't know it. This next part will not be a surprise to anyone who knows me. So I turn my entire kayak around so I can wait for him, and there is no "him." At first, I think he's further behind and I just can't see him, but as I scan the water, I don't see a living thing, or kayak. I'm calm for about five minutes. He has a life jacket on, even if he had a heart attack, I'd see his body floating in the water. And--the kayak would be floating, even if he fell out of it. Now, I'm sweating and, of course, while I'm going around the island, he is going around the island--you get the picture of the dog chasing its tail. I'm not ready to jump out and swim underwater to look for his body quite yet, and I finally catch up to him. He's observing four short-billed dowitchers (shorebirds) resting at the end of the rocks that jut out to the sea. Actually, they are beautiful, and they let him get pretty close. Unfortunately, on these trips, Bob doesn't bring his good camera, so here is a picture from the Internet of what they  look like.

Because we were pretty far out by this time and we realized that as far away as we were from the cottage that's how long it would take us to get back and my arms and back were getting pretty tired. As we started back, a huge thundercloud was forming almost directly over our heads. So our paddling suddenly became much more efficient. As we passed the summer cottages along the way, people waved--it is part of the Maine experience, I guess, because all drivers coming from the opposite direction on the road into the cottage also wave, even if the license plate is an Arizona one.

Yesterday was a day of rest for me (well, I stayed home and cleaned the cottage floors, bathroom, kitchen, refrigerator), while Bob did the clothes at the laundromat and bought some supplies at the grocery store (next door to the laundromat). We are cooking dinner at a friend's house in Waterville, Maine. She cooked the last time and I'm dying to see the renovations that are now done (they were ready to get started in 2009 when we were there last). When Bob came home, we put everything away and had a hot links dinner. Although we went to bed early, we were both awakened by an amazing lightning storm. The sky lit up and it was almost constant. Not only were we watching streaks of lightening, but the light show was like nothing I had seen before. The thunder crackled like it was across the street and the moon was full, so the water was lit constantly. Mother Nature (besides scaring me--I'm afraid of lightning and have been since I was a child) certainly provided us with a wonderful light show. It poured as well and by the time it was over, we were lulled back to sleep by the "rhythm of the pouring rain."

picture credit: cmc56789 on Google

Today, we woke early (lawn mowing day for the owner) and drove into Ellsworth. Ellsworth is the nearest city of any size and depending on traffic (which is very light on Rte. 1) it can take about 45 minutes to an hour. Our plan was to find a fire pit for upcoming company and a frying pan big enough for the meal Bob was making at the McCowans on Wednesday night. My plan was to eat at a restaurant. We did some shopping at the cute little shops and bought a few things at the farmer's market which was held in the lot next to the organic market, and decided that since it was past noon, we were hungry. It seems that wherever we may roam, there's always an Irish pub. 

Finn's  was the name of this one. Very cute. Great waitress, Tess. Great menu--hard to decide what to order.

Most of the time, Irish pubs serve good bar food and a bunch of good Irish dishes. This one had that and more. We started out with Irish nachos (a take on Mexican nachos, but with potato chips freshly fried, thickly cut, covered with corned beef hash, tomatoes, jalapenos, sour cream). YUM! I ordered the roasted veggie sandwich and Bob had bangers and mash. My sandwich was perfect: roasted eggplant, zucchini, red onions, garlic, with marinated artichokes and feta cheese in a crispy, crusty Italian sub roll. Bob's banger was delicious. Bob had a local IPA and I had a Harp.

By the way (Mary and Doug Soule), guess what music was playing the entire time we were at Finn's---Mumford and Sons--yup, our waitress loves them and plays it over and over while she's working.

Note to self: every time you eat too much, you get nauseous and we have to go home. Stop it. Eat half of whatever you order and take the rest home. 

We went across the street and did some antiquing; Bob bought a model ship for himself and a church supper cookbook (there are signs every weekend along the road advertising church suppers here), and a blue Ball canning jar (I started collecting them when I picked turquoise/aqua as one of my new decorating colors in our home). We had come into town to go to Rooster Brother, a kitchen store that I loved in 2009, but couldn't afford anything. I wasn't feeling great, but remember, I'm that goal-oriented person, so, of course, I had to go. I was a bit disappointed--it was like a small Sur la Table which we have at home. I could afford anything this time but didn't see anything interesting. Figures.

Rooster Brother

There's a place in Maine called Reny's . It's kind of like our Big Lots, but no furniture is sold here and most of the stuff is seasonal. I am dying to make a driftwood wreath, so we went in and bought a string of small driftwood. I saw a wreath in Santa Fe a couple of years ago with driftwood angels on a grapevine wreath and have wanted to copy it--so now I can. We also bought two very inexpensive Adirondack chairs (turquoise) which i wish we could fit in the van and take home with us, but we can't. I've been wanting some comfortable chairs to sit in in the late afternoon by the water, so there are perfect. I started feeling better (shopping--aha! now I know something that is better than gingerale in soothing a nauseous stomach, and much more fun). There is a large TJ Maxx and I thought there might be some fun beachy things there--besides, the girl who never wears shorts (that would be me) needed more shorts since that's what she wears when she's kayaking now. As soon as we walked in, I saw a cheap fire pit--my cousin is enamored with fires at night, so I thought I would ask the cottage owner if it was allowed. Of course the cottage owner did not respond in time, but, since I could return the fire pit (still in the box) if I don't use it, I thought we'd take it back to the cottage and I could call the cottage owner. When we got back to the cottage, there was a fire pit exactly like the one we had just bought sitting on the lawn. However, I could tell by the tone of a subsequent email that the owner was afraid of fire damage to his lawn (which is very green) or the woods nearby. We will make sure that a fire is allowed by checking in at the town office. So far, at least lately, though, it hasn't really been that cool at night that by a fire is where I'd want to be. it usually cools off while we are sleeping (on the few days it's been over 80 degrees). So, I guess we will be returning the fire pit we bought. That's fine.

Lamoine Beach

 

Marlboro Beach (view of Cadillac Mountain)

picture credit: cmc56789 on Google

On our way back, we took a "road not taken" before. We'd often seen signs for Lamoine State Park  and we'd always say, "We should check this out sometime." Since it was pretty warm (which meant our closed up cottage would be pretty warm), we set out exploring yet another side road. The state park was small, but very pretty and if ever we should camp, this would make a nice stop (who am I kidding here--if we should ever camp, we'll bring the camp trailer--not a tent). We also saw a sign for a town beach. The picture above is Lamoine town beach. The "beach" is gravel rather than sand, but there are picnic tables and a sign saying "Swim at your own risk -- no lifeguards." After further exploring, we found an even nicer beach called Marlborough beach and that was very nice, secluded, and there were very few people there. 

Sand Beach is THE beach at Acadia National Park. We've been there before--it's a real sand beach surrounded by bluffs covered with pine trees. For us Easterners, it's a very incongruous sight, but I've seen similar beaches in northern California and Oregon. The problem is the parking is crazy. There's a small parking lot so most of the times people park on the side of the road leading to the admission gates. I love this beach when I'm there but getting there is a bit of a bother. This beach is also the infamous beach where I wave-jumped for over two hours, emerged with a very sore knee, and have had knee trouble ever since (2009).

On the way home, I mentioned to Bob that we had already been in Maine for three weeks and all I've had were lobster rolls. Within 15 minutes, he was screeching into this place--The Galley. This is owned by two teachers. The husband is a high school history teacher during the school months and a lobster fisherman and cook during the summer. His wife just retired from her position as Special Education director. They served up a boiled dinner (with French fries, though) of corn, a one-pound soft-shell lobster, a roll, and cole slaw. That was my dinner. Bob, my gourmand, ate chili out of the can--cold! I'll never understand him. By the way, my dinner was delicious. Happy Lobstah Day!

Happy Fourth of July! Today, at the cottage, it is pretty cool, damp, foggy and rainy--in other words, PERFECT! Bob is making a surprise dinner in the crockpot and I am playing the keyboard and reading magazines.

Yesterday, we spent the early morning straightening up because the cottage is for sale and the realtor was coming by to show it. She was very nice and said, "Don't clean up--no problem" informing me that we, as renters, had a right to refuse her request to show the cottage. "No problem," said I, until I looked around at all our STUFF! Four or more plastic boxes filled with art stuff, camping stuff, water stuff, and about four or five canvas bags filled with tools, electronics, books, magazines--etc. and that was just in the front room. The bedrooms had their own collections of junk which I attempted to cover up with quilts, towels, blankets. Oh well.

We were able to leave around 10:00 AM. Destination, Bangor, a city we had not yet visited. The traffic was much heavier than usual, but we were in no hurry, so that didn't matter. Because of the traffic, it took longer to get there, so by the time we arrived (after passing many things of interest), we were hungry. I had found a microbrewery called the Sea Dog Brewery, right over the bridge and on the Damariscotta River. Since we wanted a table on the outside deck on the river, we waited at the bar for the next available space. While there, I tasted a brew called Sunfish, with a peaches taste and Bob had a brown IPA, Summer Brown. Both of us liked our beers a lot and knew that our stay would be longer than a quick lunch. We were seated and licked our chops while viewing the very extensive menu. I ended up ordering a crab-salad and havarti sandwich with a side of Caesar salad and Bob had --you guessed it--A Sea Dog bar cheeseburger (pickle, lettuce, and fried pork bellies). He had very delicious sweet potato fries with that. I ordered a raspberry ale (also delicious) and he had their regular IPA. It was a long wait (we were in no hurry and the view was pretty) and our poor waitress, Abby, kept apologizing even though we kept reminding her that we were in no rush and we didn't care how long it took. Everything was delicious. We ordered dessert, even Bob did. He had a chocolate terrine with chocolate and raspberry sauce and I had a very delicious creme brulee.

 Bangor Municipal building.

 Damariscotta River

 Bridge over the Damariscotta River

 One of our neighborly red squirrels that has managed to steal almost every bird feeding device Bob has put out for the birds.

 Another view of the Damariscotta River.

 You all know Bob loves trains, so this is a picture of one as it traveled through town.

A view of the river from our place on the deck of the Sea Dog Brewery (from which we bought a few t-shirts).


We drove around the city and went into a number of shops on Main Street. There were quite a few cool restaurants, but it looks like their downtown area had suffered from the newly installed shopping malls a little bit outside of the city. That's too bad as it was another quaint, though small, downtown. I ended up buying some things at a kitchen shop (food items for company coming next week) and spending some time at a little boutique and a darling antiques shop. However, there was not much to see in Bangor, sad to say. There was a children's museum we would have loved to have visited with Ana, though.

At night, we played some music. Bob made grilled cheese sandwiches. I drank some wine and read and we were visited, once again, by Stinky, the baby striped skunk. Bob kept getting closer and closer in order to take a picture. I was sure there was a night in a bathtub full of tomato juice in his future, but he got away unscathed this time.

Three Mini-trips

I haven't written in a while because, except for two days, we've stuck pretty close to home. However, some fun has occurred and if I don't write about it now, I'll forget.

This breaching whale is made from driftwood and will be displayed prominently on our coffee table when we return to Phoenix. We bought it in Mystic Seaport, Connecticut.

 This is Leary's Landing Irish Pub in Bar Harbor, Maine. It's a touristy town, but the ride there is fun and so are some of the shops, bars, and restaurants.

 This is Cleonice, a tapas bar in Ellsworth, Maine. This is the closest city to where we are staying. It has a Walmart, a huge T J Maxx, and a great Beverage Center. It also has Reny's, well-known throughout Maine for its bargains.

 Bob, loon watching on Schoodick Peninsula.

 Bob getting some exercise in one of our kayaks, launched right from the cottage. We both kayaked two miles that morning (had to get back before tide went out).

We have a small family of these on the property. I saw a young one last night.

Let's talk about the three excursions.

First excursion, Bar Harbor. Bar Harbor is a bit touristy with many tourist shops filled with interesting and not so interesting souvenirs. Since this was not our first visit, we knew most of the places and had already hit (and bought at) the tourist shops. I did some clothes shopping, but the prices were ridiculous, even if they were one-of-a-kind creations. Isn't it funny that when one doesn't have money, one desires almost everything in a store's window, but when one does have money and can afford anything in the store's window, he or she doesn't think it's worth the price? Well, that's how it was. There is an art shop there, however, that we always love. It began to pour and the poor shopkeeper could not close the skylight, vent. Bob, of course, stepped up, closed it for her and she was so grateful, that she gave us a print of Bar Harbor as a gift. Bob saw a print that he loved of a schooner wreck that we had seen often on the way up the coast. Gee, we're running out of wall space at home and we sure had plenty of it when we bought that house 23 years ago.
We thought about taking the brewery tour, but there was a better one outside of Bar Harbor, so we'll wait until Antoinette and Heath get here to do that.
A very ironic thing happened, though, in Bar Harbor. I mentioned before that it began to rain, but I should have used the word "pour." Tourists were stationed in doorways and under store awnings, but these two Arizonans just walked on by under our umbrellas. I guess you had to be there.
We had a delicious lunch at the Irish pub shown above--prime rib sandwiches. Everything here comes with kettle chips. I enjoyed a locally made blueberry beer and Bob had Guinness (a couple of them). A couple of hours later, we arrived at the end of the long shopping street and we stopped into a restaurant called Testa's. The bartender, Debbie, was an ace. My knee was bothering me a bit, so it was time for "medication." Bob had a Shipyard, a favorite of his on this trip, brewed in Portland, Maine. I had one of my favorite drinks, the Caipirinha.

Caipirinha (pronounced kie-purr-REEN-yah) roughly translates to "country bumpkin". It is made with cachaça, an intensely sweet Brazillian style of rum made from sugarcane juice. The Caipirinha is the national drink of Brazil, where it originated, and is a common Carnavale drink. Although it is more difficult to find, it's important to choose a premium cachaça for this cocktail in particular because the drink is not heavily flavored and a cheaper brand can ruin an otherwise perfect Caipirinha. You may also like the neater Caipirini.

Ingredients:

• 1 lime, quartered
• 2 tsp fine sugar
• 2 oz cachaca

Preparation:

1. Place the lime wedges and sugar into an old-fashioned glass.
2. Muddle well to create a paste.
3. Fill the glass with ice cubes.
4. Pour in the cachaca.
5. Stir well.

Note: Keep the sugar mixed in the drink by stirring often.
Not all bartenders know what this drink is, so when Debbie did--I ordered one. We met another couple who were drinking mint juleps. They were from New Hampshire. They had been renting a cottage outside of Bar Harbor every summer for the last 6 years, so they recommended a restaurant to take Antoinette and Heath to. It is called Jack Russell's and it's supposed to have great steaks. So, that will be our destination on one of the days we are with them.

Another foray was to Ellsworth. We had one visit in mind and that was to try out the Mediterranean restaurant, Cleonice. http://www.cleonice.com/HOME.html However, when we arrived at 3:00 PM, we were between servings, so we had to kill two hours before eating (we hadn't eaten all day). A few of my favorite shops, thankfully, were still there. I love the Grasshopper shop (kitchen goods and women's wear). I bought a one-size-fits-all bra. Never heard of such a thing, so I had to have it of course (Post note: it fits, it's comfortable, but it does not do a great job holding up the girls--good for sleepovers!). I used to really love another shop called J & B Atlantic http://www.jbatlantic.com/. It's changed a bit, but still has many charming goods--part of it is now an antique store.

Across the street is a new antiques place called the Dreamcatcher. By the time we finished in the organic food coop,John Edwards http://www.johnedwardsmarket.com/ it was time to eat, Rooster Brothers http://www.roosterbrother.com/ and the Dreamcatcher will have to wait until the next time we come in with Antoinette and Heath. Hope he doesn't mind shopping a little.

Cleonice's menu, though small, is quite ambitious. This place was reservations only, but we managed to come in-between times and snagged a booth. Bob had tapas and I had a four course dinner in honor of their 3rd anniversary (they weren't open the last time we were here). I started with a glass of prosecco, followed by a course of tapas (blue cheese filled figs, chicken wings with a Tunisian rub, and I forgot?), I had paella (it was just okay). Bob shared his tapas with me. For dessert, I had a vanilla-bean flan--it was very good. I also had wine with dinner.

On Saturday, we drove to Cherryfield, did some antiquing, had breakfast (that's another story), and went for a wine-tasting at a brand new winery called, Catherine Hill Winery. The luncheonette, in an old gas station, was a one-woman operation. There were a bunch of old-timers who were sitting waiting for their orders, and a few people came in to pick up called in orders. The television was playing Law and Order SVU (the first television we watched in two weeks) and although Bob ordered pancakes and I ordered bacon and eggs, it was about an hour wait. That was okay because we got to see another side of Maine. Here were some pretty poor people. I was agitated and sad, again. I feel guilty and so grateful that Bob and I are in a position to do this, but these poor people. There is a huge movement underway to revitalize this small town (and, I'm sure, other small towns throughout the state). We first heard about it from one of the antique dealers and heard about it again from the vintner at Catherine Hill winery. There was a very cute shop on the river called Riverlily https://www.facebook.com/riverlilycherryfield. The owner is from Florida and said she always dreamed of moving somewhere cooler and opening a shop. The shop had jewelry, hippy-type purses, mermaid themed things, rugs, children's homemade apparel. It was darling.
The winery's owner was from Westchester County and Florida. He was previously a technician for Verizon, but he ended up taking the bonus retirement after 20 years and with it, he started this winery. Right now, they buy the grapes and juices and ferment and process the wine, but they are beginning to grow grapes. The owner was very entertaining, friendly, helpful, and certainly knowledgeable about wines. We bought four bottles. That brings our total to 8 that we have at the cottage. I've taken a liking to chocolate wine and have a glass at night before going to bed.

I've not talked at all about the glorious kayaking. The first time we went out, I was so ecstatic that I didn't want to come in. However, because there are 12-foot tides, and I had to go in as low tide was near (unless I wanted to pull the kayak through mud and sand for quite a distance). This morning as soon as we had some coffee, we were out trying to get to the waters between the islands. This turned out to be much farther than we had surmised, but it was so much fun. We probably kayaked around 2 miles and I can feel it in my arms. It was a little warm when we returned to the cottage, but the breezes have kicked up again, the norm for this spot, and it's absolutely wonderful.
Our time in the cottage has been spent napping, guitar playing, reading (books and magazines--I'm on book #4), and when I'm done here, I'm doing some piano work on my keyboard. This has been heavenly and it's wonderful to know we'll be here just long enough.  Adventures are still ahead even when we leave this place, so we are happy. Wish our kids could be here too, though. Miss them a lot.

These houses, churches, and other scenes were all on back roads. The Big Blueberry was on Rte 1, in blueberry country (which, pretty much, is all of Maine). The scenery changes at every curving turn in the road and neither of us tire of looking at it. Whether it's a bay, a river, a stream, a forest, a meadow from which we expect to see deer or moose any minute, it never gets old.

Today it was a bit cold, but that's a good thing. It just got finished raining tonight and the fog rolled in a couple of hours ago. Looks like it might rain almost every day, off and on, this week, but that's okay. We have plenty of things to do since the rain doesn't stop us from doing anything.

Last night, again, we were awakened by the noisy raccoon (screeching). This morning when we awoke, we saw that the raccoon had scratched out a hunk of the huge picnic table next to the deck. What he was after, I'll never know. The picnic table was pretty wet from all the rain and moisture, so I never heard it going crazy last night.Bob woke me up to show it to me, but by the time I got out of bed and over to the window it was gone.

Today, by the side of the road, Bob saw a turkey vulture and did a Bat turn so I could see it. It was feasting on a road kill--a raccoon, so it let us get pretty close--not close enough for Bob to get a good picture, but close enough for me to study its sad eyes through the binoculars.

When we came home, I had work to do for MH--I'm hoping to finish most of it this week so I can relax a little and exercise more. Today's WOD was 5 rounds of 10 burpees, 10 handstands against the wall, 10 situps and 10 medicine ball walls (or whatever it's called). Something tells me that I have to start doing more repetitions as it seems easier (though I sweat and breathe hard). I don't want to cheat myself.

Last night Sean tried a family SKYPE. Love that kid and all our kids' love of family. Wish we were all closer. I'd love for them to share this cottage with us and enjoy these adventures. Maybe someday!

Friday was a blow-off day. We had to go into town and do laundry. I don't like going to laundramats. It's stressful. First, will there be enough machines in a row for all our clothes (if not, I'm afraid I'll lose track of which machines are ours). Then, when our clothes are finished in the washers, will there be enough dryers for our clothes to dry? If not, what happens if the dryers stop and the owners of the clothes in the dryer don't come in? What is the laundromat etiquette? Do I take those clothes out? What if they're not dry? Do I put in more quarters for drying time? Do I wait and risk being so overcome with RAGE that when the people finally do come in I embarrass myself with some rude comment? UGH! Can I change the channel from "The Price is Right" to one of my soap operas even though there's a little old lady looking at it? If the music coming from the portable CD player is awful, can I change the station, can I lower the volume? Too many decisions, too expensive *$2.75 for each washer and 25 cents per 5 minutes of dry time."
Well, you know that saying about not worrying because what you're worrying about probably won't happen? Yup, you guessed it. There was only one dryer, but when the other dryers stopped, the owners of the clothes in those dryers were right there (they were out in their car) waiting to pull out their clothes or deposit more money. When our clothes were done (4 washers-ful), the dryers were ready. We did not change the channel on the tv because we were too early for General Hospital and we did turn down the volume of the radio--no one complained.

In Maine, there's even a deposit for plastic water bottles. These people know how to take care of their environment. Bob deposited all plastic water bottles, beer bottles, sake bottles, wine bottles (each was worth 5 cents) and asked the man if he can donate the money to a local cause. The man chose ARC (yeah, he probably pocketed the money--but my Bobby baby is a kind soul).

For lunch, we stopped at one of the new restaurants, a little coffee shop, and Bob had (yup!) a cheeseburger and I had a lobster roll (my first since visiting Maine this season). It was very good--we both had iced tea because much to our chagrin, no alcohol was served there. Guess we won't be returning, except maybe for breakfast. We mailed the quilt to Amy and picked up our mail (it required a signature and when it was delivered to the cottage, no one was home).

Dinner was soup for me and chili for Bob. It was cold and damp and raining--in other words, for these two Phoenicians, it was nirvana. Dinner was scrumptious.

That night was a rough one. There was a fight between either skunks or raccoons in our side yard. We couldn't see them, but they were loud and unrelenting. Bob shined a flashlight out the window and they scooted, though later we kept hearing the screaming. Then we had an amazing thunderstorm and a lot of rain. In Phoenix, this would have been pleasurable; here, however, everything is so dark--no street lights (we are on a country road in the woods and on the bay), so it was creepy (and I hadn't taken my Paxil that day so everything was magnified.)

Saturday we woke up late to more rain. I began to work and realized that something had changed in my Elevate. To make a long story short, I thought I had already used by 5 GB, but after two and a half hours on the phone with ATT, I discovered that I hadn't even used one GB. So, I began to work (which is what I am doing now). I worked the rest of the night and Bob made veggie lasagna for dinner. I finally finished the book The Hypnotist, another Scandinavian book--very good, but not like Stieg Larrson's books.

This morning, I completed my WOD (5 rounds for time: 10 situps, 10 kettle bell swings, 10 squats)--12.6 minutes. Suddenly we heard the warning call of the red squirrels. Bob looked outside and lo and behold! a striped skunk: Mephistus mephistus (devil devil). Bob first thought the skunk den was under the deck but now he thinks it is in a wood pile (that I was going to visit for some wood to make a little outdoor table with) on the property.

There are renters in the next cabin (quite a distance a way but not far enough away for Bob), but we're pretty sure that they're only there for a week. They are gone all day anyway. This is probably the only drawback of this cottage.

A shower and now back to work.

There is progress! Bob has finally taken the kayak off the roof of the van. Today was going to be another warm day (relative to usual temps in northern Maine). We awoke at a reasonable hour and after having a couple of cups of coffee, we grabbed the Maine Gazetteer and set out for Winter Harbor, one of our favorite little town on the Schoodick Peninsula.

Low tide from our cottage

In Winter Harbor, we visit an art/crafts gallery every time we come. Again, I ended up buying a "few things" that I will take to our home in Phoenix, that I'll MAKE fit in with my decor. If only we had a trailer--there were a few pieces of furniture I would've loved to have taken home, but, alas and alack, they would not fit. I had a long talk with Roger, the owner of the shop (both art and antique shops) and part of the duo that are greenthumbs excellente--you should see their front yard. Creative, beautiful. Took pictures the last time we were there, will have to find them.

Roger recommended a local restaurant, a coop (not for profit) begun by the town. From the looks of things (and the taste of things), it looks very promising. The building has been occupied by a number of failed businesses, but I'd bet on this one working (as long as they keep the fantastic chef and baker). I had a chicken salad sandwich and lobster bisque. The chicken salad had grapes, homemade mayo and it was on the most delicious homemade rye bread (almost graham crackery in flavor, not consistency) and iced tea. Guess what Bob had--yup--a cheeseburger with bacon. Sigh.....

After lunch we embarked on an adventure doing the Schoodick Loop. There we saw a loon

 the Loon

 the eiders

 Furlong B & B? It's for sale! Wonder what it costs to heat it in the winter.

 One of the scenic views on the Schoodick Peninsula loop.

Another beautiful scene--they're everywhere here!

We spent some time bird-watching (as you can see). We also saw a Lesser Yellow Throat (a type of thrush). We did some rock-climbing. I fell, but thanks to CrossFit, I'm fine. Of course, there was an audience so this old lady was mortified. I got up to climb again!

 Bouldering here, but mostly worked on aid climbing.That's seagull urine, not a rope. I was told I need to do more hang dogging. That means resting on the rope.

.Ready for my lobstah suppah! Another harbor along the Schoodick Peninsula

We found out about a local bar, the "Nautica" about 45 minutes away that has jazz on thursday night and a blues pianist on Monday nights--no cover. We were too beat to try it today (Thurs) and Bob is not a great fan of jazz (however, I tried to convince him that there was more to experience at a place like this than the music). When we passed by, the lot was full.

So, home we went. Tomorrow is another day.

this is the side of the cottage that faces the bay, so we have a few out all of those windows plus the one ones on the deck side and the master bedroom windows.
Gotta go tweeze now.