Poor Timing

Maine residents can can clam without licenses at state parks. This morning we went down to Reid after Marnie had worked at the bookstore. But my timing was wrong; low tide was past; the flats that used to be productive were under water. I did get 4 keepable clams and threw back lots of babies, so there was some success, but overall it was a bust. To compensate, I ordered oysters to pick up at the farmers' market tomorrow.

It's June I Guess

We haven't had rain for days, yet things are lush. Lots of wild flowers, and the mountain laurel has just bloomed. The grass hasn't browned out--yet. Yesterday we circumnavigated our fair island. The sun was out, the water sparkling, and no bugs. Idyllic. How wonderful to be stuck here in these otherwise unhappy days.

Breaking Out

We went to Southwest Harbor for two nights, staying at the HarborView Motel and Cottages in Cottage 6, which was excellent. On our arrival on Tuesday, we walked the Wonderland Trail, which was pretty and easy. The next day, however, was not easy: we hiked up the St. Sauveur Trail, and then on to Valley Peak. We saw almost no one. The hike took us 3 1/2 hours, more than it took 30 years ago when first we did it. But we DID do it. Then as a topper in the afternoon we walked to the shore on the Ship Harbor Trail, which was spectacularly gorgeous. Now it is again Saturday, and thanks to a tip from Molly, I found oysters from Emily's Oysters at the Bath Farmer's Market. Since Marnie was enjoying a solstice yoga at Popham, I had to choke down all of the oysters myself. Life is hard.

Down to Popham

Yesterday the weather was kind enough--sunny in spots and not too windy--to allow us to motor down to the mouth of the Kennebec. We love to poke around Bay Point, Kennebec Point, and Indian Point. We were happy to see that somebody is rehabbing the derelict house that looks out to sea at Bay Point. Dozens of seals were poking their heads up around Fort Popham. Must be a lot of fish. On the way back we saw five great blue herons on one of the small islets at Pettis Rocks. A lovely trip. However, it was a Saturday without oysters.

The Last Hockey Stick

After Bart secured Chaika on the mooring last week, he had to row the pram in against a fierce outgoing current. As he rowed, one of the oarlock sockets gave way, and he paddled in, not without great difficulty. Today I repaired the socket. It needed to be reinforced, as it had previously been fastened only to the fiberglass gunwale, not at all strong. In the garage I found a piece of a hockey stick. For years I collected busted sticks and used them for many projects. They are laminated and very strong. The repair to the pram was successful. But, alas, no more hockey sticks.