Roots

The largest of majestic trees have their beginnings in simple spots. They look innocent enough, but if you've ever tried to remove a small tree or bush, I don't have to tell you that roots run deep. What looks to be a quick job can run you hours. They can wear quite a disguise too. These pictured look dead, but are very much alive and kicking. I'm not a big genealogy guy. I haven't ever done any research on my family tree. Others in the family have done some preliminary research, and I've taken a glancing look. I know where my family roots lie. My grandparents, on my mother's side, traveled from Prince Edward Island in the early 1900s. My Dad's grandparents can be traced to Spital in Ireland. My brother, Marchin, has been to both places and has met family members in Canada and spent time in pubs in Spital.
I'm intrigued by both places.
Perhaps someday visits.
Do you have interest in geneology?
What's the draw?

Treeline and Marsh

This scenic taken in western Maine last week reminds me of the painter Bob Ross (1942-1995) who used to be everywhere on PBS in the 80s. He and his 'magic white' were easy to find on a cold winter Saturday afternoon. I use to sit there and marvel, as his wide brush would attack the canvas and make a line of evergreens, almost magically, flash into view. When the camera was doing an up-close shot of his hand and brush just dabbing the canvas with greens and tinted yellows, I'd say ok this time they are not going to be looking like trees. When the camera pulled back, viola! There the treeline was majestic-like.
He made painting look so easy.
How'd he do that?

Water Water

This is sort of a cryptic image I took last week on our sojourn to western Maine. We stopped in Grafton Township, near Bethel at Screw Auger Falls. Sometimes, when I travel, I come across names that I just love to say Screw Auger... Got to love it. It's a  small waterfall complex coming off the Bear River. The total drop of the falls from top to bottom is 43 feet, with the tallest single drop of 18 feet at the gorge. These falls are quite close to the Route 26. Pull into the parking lot, walk about 25 yards and you are there at the top of the gorge. It's one of the most scenic spots, especially during the fall when the trees are exploding in color. Old Speck Mountain is close by. Many summers ago, Elenka and I spent a July 4th weekend backpacking the arduous climb. 
If you love humidity, black flies and bears, you should have been with us. 

*This is a photo of granite, being washed-over with the falls' runoff.
To me, it sort of looks like I'm peering into either a microscope or perhaps a telescope. 

Bear

Snakes, pumas and bears. Oh my!

This is a great rock in the water, near the shoreline at Bear Pond in South Waterford. It's one of my favorite spots to drive by here in western Maine. If I had a boat, this would be a neat place for an out of the way camp. If you squint your eyes a bit , it sort of gives, at least me, the feeling of a bear. Speaking of bears and other creatures of the wild. Have you seen that new reality show, "Naked and Afraid"? Here's the premise: they take two survivalists, one male, one female, place them in the wilds of Argentina, Nicaragua or some other remote environment, take away their clothes, and we watch them attempt to survive for 21 days. They blur the vital areas, but I still found it a bit difficult to watch at times. Basically, it's 60 minutes of dirty faces, mud, shivering, animals, tears and butt cracks. Oh, I almost forgot. It seems to rain constantly. Temperatures in the 60s during the day, 50s at night and lots and lots of rain. Their diet? Grubs, snails, worms, snakes and some plants. 
This is not my idea of a fun 3 week vacation.
I'd settle for a quiet week on this pond.
No butt cracks, please.

Duff's or Don's

Let's get this out in the open right off the bat. My eyesight is a bit off these days. At 50 mph, I thought for sure this was 'Don's Dog House'. I did a u-turn and circled back, only for come face to face with Duff's.

'Don's doghouse'? Did I spend time there?

Hey, I lived there. I did 'hard time' there.

Let's see: I wasn't home at 2 PM to do papers somedays, was late after the 'cow bell' sounded at 9PM, received grades not up to his specifications in JHS and HS, 'roped' my brother to the my sister's rocking chair (gosh, I loved that cowboy life style), didn't learn those multiplication tables fast enough, the driveway wasn't shoveled when he got home, got in BIG trouble witb Sister Deloras (his aunt), the Principal of my elementary school, made many and ANY excuses and on, and on and on.... Dad ran a tight ship along with his black belt, and I sometimes felt that I was a bit character in my own 'caine mutiny'. As happens many times, when I hit my adult years things changed. Oh ya, I married Elenka, and my status in his eyes changed.
Best buddies.

A Dog House?
$8,500.00?

Buy it?

Guy, I LIVED it!

Dwalin

My sister Joanne, in Oregon, always remembers my birthday with interesting gifts. Often she sends me books we've talked about in the past, or she's brought my attention to in preceding months. Last year, she sent me me glass jar holding a small sculpture of a firefly. It sits here on our porch now on a windowsill. I think it's very cool. Funny story. I digress. About a month ago, I couldn't sleep one night and wandered out in to the kitchen at about 2 AM. When I got there, I noticed the ceiling and kitchen had this strange blue-green glow. At first it confused me. I thought perhaps it was coming from the moon or even a vehicle parked in the driveway. Neither of these assumptions were correct. On further examination, I realized that it was in fact a single firefly lighting up my world. I stared at it for a minute or so, winking at me. It was a little treat. After a sip of iced tea, I was back to bed. Strange. I won't ever forget this encounter. 
The package this July held this little guy. These days he's been put to work to earn his keep. His job? To watch over our garden at night and attempt to keep the invading deer at bay.
They do so enjoy my lettuce!
This gnome reminds me of one of Bilbo Baggin's pals.
I always liked the name Dwalin.
I shall call him that!
Dwalin, get busy and keep those pests away!

64Bentley

Yesterday, Elenka and Birdman set off on one of their great 'day adventures'. Got your GPS handy? We headed to Standish to North Sebago, Naples, to Bridgton, Waterford, North Waterford, onto to Lynchville, Bethel, passing through Newry, and Grafton Notch, passing into New Hampshire onto Errol, Milan, Berlin, Cascade, Gorham,  Shelburne, back into Maine at Gilead, Locke Mills, on to  Woodstock, Paris, to Norway, Oxford, Poland, Casco, back to Naples then back to North Sebago, Standish and our driveway. All in all, it was a 5 hour trip to an area of Maine and New Hampshire that we have been away from for quite awhile. It was nice to get back.We saw lots of sights along the way. Mostly trees! There is one heck of a lot of woods up there. We had lunch along the Androscoggin River. Who knew it stretched that far up into the wilds of the Granite State.
And now a few answers----
No, we didn't see any moose.
I did see a few hawks... no eagles
Stopped at a store that sold rifles, wood stoves, jewelry, huge safes and loads of other stuff that one needs to sustain life away from the rest of the world. Life is different up here!
I had a loaded tuna sub for lunch.
Yes, I drove all the way.
I wish! This 1964 Bentley is not ours.
Of course, we had a wonderful day together!

Wooden Rhino

The "Blakie" Langlais estate has been left to Colby College in conjunction with the Kohler Foundation, that is cataloging, restoring, repairing and conserving his art. Many of his whimsical sculptures are scattered about his 80 acres of overgrown fields and woods in Cushing. Soon in 2014, the estate's sculpture park will be open for public viewing. Colby College in Waterville will be showing a large collection of his work opening this coming fall. Traveling around the state, his 'creatures' seem to pop up just about any place. I do believe this rhino used to 'live' on the USM campus in Gorham. Right now, the Portland Committee on Public Art is searching for an indoor home for his 10 foot standing bear. I hear there are well in excess of 3,000 pieces of his wooden art. Most are a bit larger than life, similar to this one, however there are many in miniature that could sit nicely on a tabletop.
Where did the man get his inspiration?
His father was a carpenter.

Wood Work

A short trip south...
The Ogunquit Museum of American Art is indeed a hidden gem. Although I have visited the Barn Gallery in Ogunquit many times, yesterday's trip to this museum, sitting at the edge of Perkins Cove, was a first for me. Many of the pieces found within  highlighted artists from the once thriving Ogunquit art colony. There is a small collection of Wyeth's here, however Andrew's watercolors are a favorite of Elenka's, and they caught her eye. For me, the wooden sculptures of Maine treasure, Bernard Langlais (1921-1977), was the centerpiece of the exhibit. I recently watched a video and read an article about the monumental undertaking of cataloging all his work, in wood and on paper. Exciting news too. The grounds of his home and expansive studio in Cushing, Maine is going to be opening to the public this fall. It has always been exciting to drive by his home and scan the grounds for all the animals and humans. 
He even has captured President Nixon, with arms extended high above his head and both hands showing the 'V for victory sign'.
Kind of Churchillian.
"I am not a crook."

Lobstah Colors

Know any good lobstah puns?
Do you know how to tell lobster buoys from lobster girls? Well, if you're looking for DownEast lobster joke this morning you're going to be going away disappointed. I've never heard this joke, let alone the punchline. In all my years living in Maine, I've never stepped foot in a lobster boat. Seen 'em. Heard 'em. Smelled 'em, but never been in one. Here in Maine find a tucked away harbor or just a small inlet and you're bound to see the surface of water literally covered with hundreds of lobster buoys bobbing away. If you are making your way among them, you better have your wits about you. Tangling your motor in a bunch of lobster gear can ruin your whole day! Now, if you're looking at a small harbor loaded with buoys, are you thinking how do I find mine?  Not the design. They are all basically the same shape. It's the coloring, Margaret! These look to be green, white with a single red stripe. The lobsterman also needs to have one of these buoys clearly visible near the wheelhouse. Tampering with another's lobster gear and traps can bring a large fine or worse. Like a lot worse... like the 'end of your life' worse.
Moral of this story:
Come to Maine this summer.
Get on the water and enjoy the sights of lobstermen hauling their traps.
Journey to the docks and watch the men and women unloading their catch.
Enjoy the iconic crustacean with lots of butter.
But don't even think of messin' with a trap that's not yours.
Know your colors!

Clothespins

Elenka is heading to Florida in a couple of weeks, and I'll have to fend for myself for a week or so. I'll manage. I always do. I'll do mostly mundane activities like hang the wash, tend to the garden and probably a little project or two. Or sure, I'll be handed a couple of 'work orders' from the boss that will or not get completed. I'll have excuses lined up. Don't worry. One thing that I won't do though is go out to a restaurant and eat alone. Stopped by The Muddy Rudder, after the Maine State Music Theater show yesterday, for dinner, and the gal next to us was eating alone. She looked kind of bored with her meal although, with the help of her cell, she photographed her entire meal, the marsh out the window and even the menu. I told you she seemed bored. Didn't I? Now, I do like my 'alone time', but eating out alone at a pricey restaurant is not my way of enjoying a summer evening. I can grab an early morning joe or an afternoon pick-me-up, as long as I can find a newspaper or a magazine handy. I know. I know. Some of us out there can pull it off. Many people do it daily. I see them all the time. But not me. So, if you're in Portland in a couple of weeks, and you happen to see a gent at a table by himself enjoying an evening's repast. 
Don't ask... 
"Could that really be Birdman?" 
"Should I go and introduce myself?"
Hurry along.
I'll take the pressure off.
It's not me.
I'm home manning the grill, taming a couple of cheese burgers with onions.
Enjoy your meal though.

REVIEW-
Yesterday's show at MSMT was a 'Don't Miss'! "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" was so entertaining! WOW! The dancing! If you find yourself near Brunswick in the next couple of weeks, check this one out. 
Better than"Buddy", by a little.
Better than "Chamberlain".
Best of the season, so far!

Book Sale

I like books.
I'm at home around them.
I like the smell of new books.
I like the smell of old, musty books.
I like to open books that haven't been opened in years.
I look for stuff.
I make no excuses.
We went to the Yarmouth Clam Festival on Friday afternoon. To save ourselves the hassle, parking fee and traffic, we parked at the Delorme Map Store on Route 1 and took the short shuttle bus ride to Main Street. If you can get away, Friday's a good day to get there. It's a work day, so crowds and families are at a minimum. Lots of sights, music, art, crafts and of course clams, crabs, lobster, mussels, bar-b-que pork and more and more and more. Let's not kid ourselves here, the food is the big draw. If you are lookin' to gain some lbs this summer, this is where you should have been this weekend. 
Back to books. So the bus dropped us at the flea market tables, and we did a quick look. Believe it or not, but most of the stuff I saw amid the tables, we have and are trying to get rid of too. You see, we're on this cleaning the house of crap kick these days.
Next, we ventured over to the used books' tables. I told Elenka that I was 'heading in' and I'd catch up with her in a while. Over my shoulder, I think I saw her roll her eyes. At home she's busily dumping books and assorted clutter, and I'm happily still in a collecting trance. She already seemed restless, so I didn't stay at the tables long. If she's waiting, I better move right along.
Believe me.
We make a good team.
But don't ask me to explain it.
Some mysteries are still unsolved. 
Don't Blink!

Say Poult

I like Saturdays. Don't ask we why. I just do. Always have been special, whether I'm working or not. Fun, like this flying ferris wheel, high in the sky. Ok, wait a minute two wild turkeys just walked through the back yard dragging along 15 baby turkeys. Fifteen! So I scrambled to the Internet. What do we call baby turkeys? They are called poults. I, as many do, often curse the time I spend on my computer, but I've got to say it does put the world, we live in, at our fingertips. It took me less than 10 seconds, literally, to find the word poult. Without this machine in my lap, I would have been digging through an encyclopedia (remember them) for 10 minutes or so and would be lucky to decipher anything. I read about flocks and herds all the time but poults? That's a new one for me. In five minutes time, they had moved diagonally through the yard and were gone.
See Saturdays are special.
Why?
I'll tell you some other time.
Today, I'm going to relish this new word.
Poult.

Apple Wagon

I love apples, but in July I'm not thinking apple orchards and cider.  However, if you grow apples for a living, I bet you 'thinking apples' every single day. The farm up in Lisbon was an apple farm with hundreds of acres of trees. I've visited quite a few times but can't remember when wagons like this one rolled through the orchard  stacked high with wooden bushel crates. Growing up, when the bushel crate of apples got low in the darkened closet off the dining room, we'd all pile in the station wagon on a Sunday afternoon and head to Terison's Orchards in Cumberland and spend the afternoon climbing the trees and picking apples.
I always favored the Golden Delicious.
The bushel baskets we brought home were always filled to the brim with Macs, but Mom always made sure there was a peck bag of the goldens.
Just for me.

Kid Among Books

Here's some side banter back and forth, overheard between mother and child at a recently opened bookstore in the Old Port. A young girl, maybe ten, is sitting on a front counter in the afternoon sun. 
"Mom, I know what I want. I need to get one more thing. You promised."
Mom mentions, "Did you see those  silver, trinket bracelets in the back?"
The young girl kicking her feet to and fro, with a look like she's lost in another world says, "Mom, I know what I want."
Her mother returns with, "So, what do you want? Have you seen a book? We've gotta go. We're late now."
Nonchalantly, she answers, "No, but I'll know when I see it."
Promises and tired kids just aren't a good combination, when you're on vacation. 
I'm experienced in this.
Aren't we all?

Five Strong.

We've got a pretty symbolic tree here. If you were to walk around this tree, you'd see that there are probably about 8-10 of these main shoots heading up from the base. It resembles, to me, a true family tree. Take our family, for instance. There are five of us kids. All, for the most part, coming from the same base. Like most families, we're not the cookie-cuter variety. We come some different shapes and sizes. We have our likes and dislikes. Some have said, looking at us five, "Oh you're a lot like her, oh you and him have so much in common." When I look back to Mom and Dad, I see qualities of each of them ingrained in me and the others. Some so positive, it makes me so proud. At other times, some non-flattering aspect will show its head, and I just try to look away. But it's who we are; where we've come from. 
Pretty simple really. 
Five different.
Five unique.
Five strong.
Mom and Dad, good work.
Five, still reaching for the sky.

Kids Today

"The Kids Are Alright" by the Who

Don't think adults have a big influence over kids today? This photograph will probably disprove your theorem.

On my Birthday, I'm taking a look, over my shoulder at some of what I left behind. A little bit more about me today... revealed.
Definition: bittersweet- both pleasant and painful or regretful: a bittersweet memory.

On another note, Elenka and I had a wonderful evening last night at the Salt Water Grille with Brattcat and SCreech and their husbands.
Now, I'm off to enjoy my day.
YOU enjoy it too!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afam2nIae4o&feature=kp

Back Door

An afternoon trip to Lisbon yesterday brought me here. The front of this classic New England barn seems newly painted, sort of a soft, weathered yellow. Walk to the rear, and you're faced with this, tall weathered boards with a ramp covered with moss and weed growth. This was a little surprise. A view not seen from the farmhouse itself. My sister Connie from Lakeland (Lakeland checking in) and her husband Irv are visiting Maine for a few weeks. They travel in a 35 foot camper and make the trip in 2 days, 14 hours the first day and 10 the second. I'm sure it has most of the comforts of home, and for someone who likes the 'adventure' of the open road, I'd like to think that I'd enjoy the motoring around. 
Factor in the gas and upkeep though...
The jury's still out on this for me.
It was a wonderful afternoon of 'catching up', and Amato's Italians were on the menu.
Marchin and his wife Donna and Elenka and I ventured together to Lisbon.
I even got to meet Max, a Westie.
Family time is time well spent.

Bike Trail

There was a time...
This is a piece of the Back Cove bike trail. You can jump on it many places. For example, you can park your vehicle just off Marginal Way and take a spin around Baxter Boulevard, over Tukey's Bridge,  along the Waste Treatment Plant, down a slight hill, and enjoy the view of open water to your left. You traverse this quarter mile stretch to East End Beach and the then it is a straight-a-way to the Old Port, with stunning views of forts, lighthouses, islands, the Portland Yacht Club and Maine's Narrow Gauge Railroad train and museum.
All these views are free, except the train ride and museum.
What a deal!
Lunch in the Old Port!
Shopping!
Sightseeing!
Downside for some?
You need to pedal back to your car.
Boo hoo!

My J.C. Higgins, with silver fenders, would have made this trip in no time!

Trestle

Saturday night was often a 'night out on the town' for our family. Usually, it was a quick trip over to Starfford Farms ice cream stand in Scarborough ( I was on an orange sherbet kick) and then the cream-colored with red trim station wagon headed back to the city. Our destination? Eastern Prom. And what was the immense highlight of our Saturday evening? That was easy... looking off to the left and waiting for the thick black smoke of the Mountain Division locomotive to appear, as it made its way across the black trestle near Burnham and Morrill Baked Beans Company (see chimney to left of trestle) to the Grand Trunk Station.
Watching that approaching black smoke. 
Now, THAT was an exciting night out!
The trestle's still there, albeit turned side ways to discourage trespassers.
I heard there's an osprey nest out there somewhere.
In younger days, I would have headed out.
Thought better about it this morning.
These days, I'm foolish, not stupid.

Paddling

We stopped by East End Beach yesterday early. It was warm already, and Casco Bay was almost glass-like calm. Perfect conditions for a morning adventure upon the bay. Portland Paddle operates out of this area. They have a large selections of small craft to rent, but they really cater to sea kayakers and paddle boarders. I have never kayaked, but could see me taking a chance with this activity, however I just don't understand standing on a surfboard and paddling around. Sounds and looks like an activity invented for lazy surfers.
Hahahahahaha! 
I better not say anything further.
Oh well, we took about a mile walk along the water.
It's an area of the city that I had never investigated before.
Nice little adventure.

Garden Wear

I like hats. If you are a follower of this blog you know this. I like new hats. I like hats that show a bit of age. At a vintage clothing store, I'm game for all kinds of headwear. Well, I like to try them on and make stupid faces. Here, up at the garden, is my latest fashion foray to fight the sun while working the weeds. I can't recall where it came from. I think it might have been something J- picked up along the way in HS, or perhaps a item pulled from some seventh grader to wear on a Halloween version of a Friday morning in-house TV show that I've been affiliated with over the last 20 hers or so.
LockerTalk? 
Do you really want to know?
Maybe someday...
For now, it'll suffice as garden wear. 

Justin

You're A Big Boy Now!

When I look back on these last 28 years, I'm totally amazed at where and how fast you have progressed to today. I remember leaving MMC sometime after 11PM back then, in some controlled state of euphoria. The night was a typical July night for Maine, warm and muggy. I walked around the Bramhall area and wished I could head to West Street and see my Dad, but he was, believe it or not, off on a Canadian camping trip. After a brief walk to nowhere to work off some adrenaline, I headed back to the parking lot for my car. When I reached it, I do remember searching out lit windows in the large hospital behind me and wondering if that was, indeed, the room that held my new born son. I picked out a window and said that had to be it. I felt the widest grin coming across my face. I do believe it remained there, in some state, the duration of my trip back to Gorham.
It WAS a night that will remain with me forever.
Two songs are etched in my mind about July 9, 1986.
One, that night, was John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy".
It brings me to tears each time I hear it to this day.
And today, the melodic sounds of the Lovin' Spoonful's "You're A Big Boy Now" echo about the room.
... and Justin, you are.
Love always, Dad.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brL7h6O7mhw
What do you think?

4th Floor

Here's something a bit different from me. This image was taken with my cell, out a dirty, 4th floor window looking towards Tukey's Bridge, off in the distance at the upper left. Can you see a fog bank moving in from Casco Bay? This picture was taken from what we call the West End off towards the East End or the Eastern Prom area of town. I'm teaching myself a little bit of history this morning. I always thought Tukeys referred to 'two keys' that came together, fusing the neighborhoods of East Deering and Munjoy Hill. I was very wrong! The bridge, built in 1960 is named after Lemuel Tukey, a tax collector from the Back Cove neighborhood of the city in the Eighteenth Century. 
Shows you what I know.
Two keys... Sheeeeesh!
What was I thinking?

Lily Pads

Well, if each of these pads has a couple of frogs associated with it, and they all went a walking, that would be one thing. But if these "Froggies All Went A-Courtin'", there would be one heck of a crowded frog pond here in less than 21 days. The traditional English folk tune"A Frog Went A-Courting" dates all the way back to 1548 and has many alternate titles and lyrics. As you might imagine, it is also found in many different countries and languages. Mom taught it to me as "A Frog Went A-Walking". My guess is that she just didn't want to bring into the conversation the added vocabulary exercise that would have surrounded the word 'courtin'.
Outta of sight; outta mind?
Who was she kidding?
Did anyone one else have it among their kiddie soundtrack?
Heck, even Dylan has a version on one of his albums. 

"...And what do you think they had for supper?
 A fried mosquito and bread and butter! 
A-hum, a-hum."

Arbor

There was a band called The Arbors in the Sixties that had some cover songs, even a minor hit with something called "A Symphony for Susan". They sounded a bit like the The Association, no instruments, just melodic singing.  Anyone remember The Arbors? Didn't think so. Why do I?

Arbor Day is the last Friday in April every year. Go plant a tree! Most people think tree planting is a good idea, but we plant trees anytime we get the urge these days.  We don't need to be directed. Once my Dad brought over two small pine seedlings he got from a local bank. We planted them Easter Sunday morning in 1978. They were both 6 inches high. Today, they stretch, just off the deck, to about 60 feet. Amazing!

My grandparents had a white picket fence with an arbor situated in the middle of their backyard. I used to climb and swing on it in my more energetic days. Looking over my shoulder at her, my grandmother would just smile and shake her head. Her little monkey...
One small word 'arbor'.
Remarkable, where it takes you.

Open

... for insults!
If you were 'attacked' over a few brews and hotdogs yesterday, you should have been prepared with these comebacks to fire.
All with a Shakespearean slant. 
"You are but a mountain of mad flesh."
"Light of Brain."
"Thou art a boil."
" O gull, O dolt, as ignorant as dirt."
"Roast meat for worms."
"False of Heart, Light of Ear, Bloody of Hand."
"a Lump of foul Deformity."
"All Eyes and no Sight."
"Bolting Hutch of Beastliness."
'Thou Art a Boil."
"Long tongued, babbling Gossip."
"An Infinite and Endless liar."
"Quintessense of Dust."
"Beetled-headed, flap-eared Knave."
"Canker-blossom."
"The Soul of this Man is his Clothes."
"I do Desire we become Better Strangers."

Hopefully, no real  fireworks erupted.
All in good fun, my pretty.

Beach Fries

Happy 4th of July!
I'm staying clear from this scene today. Too crazy!
Heading to Bon and Paulie's for their annual cookout and fireworks soiree. Always fun to be with them and their friends from their large ballroom dancing contingent. Peter, Marchin and Donna will make the scene with us, along with J- and Yelena. Should be interesting. The last time we were there, Rescue had to be called. Not for us though. There was a 55-something 'jumper', who thought it a wise act to jump from a second floor deck to catch a shuttlecock (aka birdie) mid-flight in an intense badminton game. For him, it WAS fueled by 'demon alcohol'. That evening, one of the 'Apostles' almost fell in love with a young EMC gal, while she was checking vital signs. In Peter's world, it was a 'love story'.  
On a side note, the group from school who did all the cooking at my retirement party is doing the grilling. 
Yes, that night, they even had deep fried, french fries!
Not REAL beach fries but close.

Bulletin Bulletin-Bulletin-
*Barbecue pushed back a day until the 5th.
Happy 5th!
Thanks, Arthur!

Willard Worries

So, why the long face buddy?
Let's see. You're at Willard Beach. It is July. The temperature is hovering close to 85. The sun is out. A gentle breeze is blowing. Your wife or girlfriend is by your side. No cost to park your car. There is a snack shack dispensing food nearby. There are restrooms. The tide is coming in. I hope there is a book in your lap, because if not you are ruining a perfectly fine beach day.
Now, I could speculate.
I have lots of ideas on how your day went off the rails.
I'll keep positive. 
Probably just dwelling on the latest installment of "Orange is the New Black" 

Fifteen for Two

"Fifteen for two..."
Whenever my grandmother's brother, Howard, and family ventured down, summers, from Prince Edward Island (PEI), two things were a given. There would be loud dancing on the linoleumed kitchen floor to fiddle music and boisterous cribbage games long into the night. When I was about 10, my grandfather taught me the basics of the game, and we played many 'open' hands, as he attempted to teach the 'counting' of the cards. While in IA class at Lincoln Junior High School, I made a cribbage board, along with the guidance of teacher, Willis Hancock. Later, working at Evergreen Cemetery to earn college tuition, lunch breaks were filled with games of cribbage with the old-timers. I sat, watched and asked questions. I really learned and played the game there and got quite good. Many days, I played and played and never opened and ate lunch. The game is captivating to say the least.
Alas, I haven't taken to the board in years, but...
I plan a return 'visit' to the game this summer.
I hear there are very cool 'free' cribbage apps for my phone too.
Got a great traditional board also, at the ready.
Set to play... well, relearn.
Now, don't get me going on Hearts.
"Go"

Theme Day: Celebrating Summer

Today, July 1, 2014, is Theme Day across the citydailyphoto(CDP) community. It is a world-wide photo blog that I joined in 2008 and have posted on every day since. I haven't missed a day. I'm pretty proud of that. Today's theme was too easy. If you live in Maine from June to September, you are always 'celebrating summer'. At least, I am. They call it Vacationland on our license plate, but I just call it HOME.
There's got to be a reason.
Discovered it yet? 
S. Creech has.
To Summer!

Location: Dolphin Marina Restaurant, Harpswell, ME