Hedgehog Mountain

 Supported by #1 grandchild, I managed to summit Hedgehog Mountain, the highest peak in all of Freeport, Maine. This had been a long-held goal, achieved at last. It was a lovely hike with an excellent companion, who kept us from wandering into the wilderness on the way back. Suzanne and I were able to talk a little football on the drive back. She will be a powerful GM for some team some day!

Farewell, my lovelies

 Most Saturdays, even when they weRe not in season, I have been eating oysters on the half shell. At first we got them down the road in Georgetown, but when that site dried up I found Emily's Oysters, cultivated in Freeport and sold at the Bath Farmer's Market. As the summer turned to fall the oysters grew larger and tastier. Emily's last day at the market was today. Although she sells them out of her house in Bath (in fact, she has an oyster CSA), I think the custom has run its course. No more oysters for a while.

Old Glory

 On election eve, I wrote this:

The election day is tomorrow

And my flags will be flying,

Taken down four years ago when

It seemed we had shit our country's pants

By not caring or hearing.

Equal time for lies and truth

On the news outlets we had foolishly

Come to trust. It seems, almost, worse now.

Yeats put it this way: “everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.”

Maybe Yeats didn't know how to spell

Kakistocracy, but now we have it,

And worse. Those are the passionate ones,

The innocents who are indoctrinated

By their TV habits and drive their pickups

Into a moving catastrophe.

But tomorrow, or probably later,

It all ends, I promise. Because, dammit,

This IS America, and there are enough

Good people, best if they're young,

Who will say, or have said: ENOUGH!

Enough with your lies! Enough

With your degradations! Enough

With the deaths you have brought

Because you didn't care. Enough.

Enough. More than enough.

So tomorrow, look for my flags.

And look at last for your country.

It's coming home.

========================

The flags went up next morning, including Big Al's one-sided official Camp Arrowsic flag and our new electric flag, that glows proudly all night.

Today, finally, all good.

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All to Myself

 This morning I was alone on the trail up Higgins Mountain. This has become my favorite hike, and today the colors were resplendent. Any way to escape, even for an hour, the horror that is our national scene is a blessing. We were planning to go to the Azores for election week, but of course COVID-19 got out of hand and we who are stained by Trump are not welcome in Europe. So we'll have to find some way to avoid election night, anyway.

Bald Head

The bald head you see summited Arrowsic's highest peak today, accompanied by a lovely Sherpa  It was a beautiful fall day, though windy, and the trail was pleasant, with marsh and river views  At the top we looked down upon the sparkling Back andKennebec Rivers  Great day for bald heads  

 

Cox Pinnacle

 

Breathing hard, I summited Cox Pinnacle, the highest point in Brunswick, this morning. It was a a tough climb along a wide path, surrounded by beautiful fall scenery. Now, having conquered two of the lesser peaks, I am prepared to conquer the Everest of the coastal plain, BALD HEAD, right here in mountainous Arrowsic!

Powerless

 Today there was a strong south wind. It took down a few small branches, but now the sun is out and the front has passed. However, yet again our horrible electric company, Central Maine Power, has 100,000 Mainers without power. CMP is owned by European companies which are interested in profit rather than service. They are the only utility rated lower PG&E. There is a bill in our state legislature to create a publicly-owned utility, which would be a non-profit. Please let it happen.

Forty Minutes of Tranquility

 This morning I ascended Higgins Mountain, the highest peak in all of Georgetown. No one else was on the trail. It was quiet and smelled wonderful...like the woods. There is now a 1/2 mile trail at the top, which is beautiful, though there are no views. It was a contrast to the sociability of the two previous days. We drove with Emily to Port Clyde to visit the Robisons and lunched at Linda Bean's Dip Net. Food was good but owner not. Then yesterday we boated to Boothbay and returned for lunch at Robinson's Wharf. So the solitude was excellent as a balance.

Sea Smoke

 A cold morning brings the beautiful sea smoke to the river. However, it is a harbinger of the cold to come, a realization that summer can't go on forever. Soon we'll have to haul Autumn. The leaves will fall, and then the snow. BUT this year is a little different. The passing of time brings the election and hope, and maybe a way out of the COVID-19 morass. Let's see.

Once More into the Tent

 On Wednesday, Sept. 9, we returned to Hermit Island, which was the campground at which we started our camping adventures in 2017. This time Marnie got us the best site we've had or seen--right above Casco Bay, but totally private, with bushes all around. The video shows our environment. Unfortunately, the day was a bit gloomy and we did not swim, although the water was warm enough. As usual, it was hash for supper, but bacon and eggs for breakfast. We found we are less spry than we were last time we tented at Hermit Island, but we can still do it!

"You're muted"

 The days roll by. On my home page I have a counter to election day; it seems to be counting down pretty rapidly. And that's all to the good. When we are by the election and the COVID things can slow down--I hope. Meanwhile, there is not a lot of meaning in the passing of time. Life is tamped down by the two horrors and many of our usual small pleasures are not available. However, I got quite a lift from signing us up for a trip to the Azores next April. If we can go, it will be our fourth. Perhaps we will stay there.

Blessed

Tonight, as we often do, we boated along Doubling Point after supper. The sun was setting, the reflected light on the trees to the East was golden, the water was still. Huge puffy cloud formations, colored by the sinking light, were inspiring--we can't see them from home. And today at our house were our two daughters, a son-in-law, and four grandchildren. Our life here is blessed, and we know it. 

Around the Horn

 Thursday was a lovely day, a bit hot, and the seas were fairly calm, so we set off downriver, thinking of going out to Seguin. But there was a quite a bit of chop as we approached Perkins Island. We altered course, exploring Bay Point and Kennebec Point before rounding Indian Point and heading for the Sheepscot. On the way up we cruised through 5 Islands and popped into Robinhood to see if we could spot the pilothouse ketch belonging to the folks who are hoping to build in one of the Campbells' lots. We caught them as they were heading back to their mooring, having acquired material for a week's cruise downeast. An early supper at 5 Islands was punctuated by a rude seagull, who swooped down upon our onion rings (mostly consumed by then) and knocked over Grandma's wine. Interesting day.

The Porch is Done

At last the conversion to a 3-season room is done! The final part was replacement of the screens in the triangles above the western wall with plexiglass. That happened today. The glass is so clear that you can't see it, and at first I though Kane had not done the job. But there it is. We have already enjoyed being able to use the porch when the wind blows hard and then to open it when the weather is hot. Glad it's finished.

Time

Funny how the days stretch a bit, and the week seems long--till we get to the end of it and realize it is gone. Our time is not punctuated by travel, entertainment, dining out, or any of the other usual activities. Thus it seems to rush by. The research I did for our camping book told me this would be true, but now we are living it. It would be wonderful to be able to travel freely, socialize freely, eat freely at restaurants. Our feeble initiative will be a neighborhood croquet game a week for Sunday. Although this sounds like a bit of a whine, we know we are doing very well under these circumstances.

Bingo

We hit it for real today. Seeing calm seas andfavorable tides, we cast off at 8 and motored to Damariscove, where we tied up to the one free mooring. It had been ten years or so since we last visited this beautiful island, and we hiked once again up to the tower. The path had been well tended and most of the world-class poison ivy had disappeared. Our return took us up the back side of Damariscove and into Boothbay Harbor, which was very very quiet. For lunch we tied up in Townsend Gut at Robinson's Wharf, which was gussied up and expanded...and packed. We lunched on the deck and it was good. I enjoyed my first draft beer since March. Home to a hot day and the McGraths swimming off the float.

The Heat Cometh

Finally it got hot--91 in the shade. However, we have a lovely breeze from the river so it is cool on the lawn. The newly-windowed screen porch is hot, though. This morning we took off at 7:30 and motored down to the river mouth. There was some haze out to sea and great beauty all around. Not many boats, not many people. Dozens of boats whizzed up and down in front of us Sunday but now they are home with empty tanks.

On the Seas at Last

Hitherto we had not been as far as Boothbay Harbor, but today we set out for South Bristol to visit the Carlisle Kalksteins. The trip took under two hours and was pleasant except for some big swells at the mough of the Damariscotta River. They have a terrific rental on The Gut with a beautiful yard and a private dock. Next door is the Fish Coop where you can get--and we did--lobsters, clams and so forth. The trip back was fun, too. A wonderful day on the water with a grand lunch and visit.

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.

The Smell of Viburnum

Every day there is a fierce wind, so that even if the temperature is warm, the wind and the cold river make boating unpleasant--so we stay ashore. We need rain, but things are growing. The viburnum near the lion bloomed. Its white small snowballs have a lovely perfume. They don't last very long, though. Still, some pleasure is welcome these days.

Clam Day

Since there were no oysters, we went back to Allen's Seafood, at the end of Lookout Point Rd in Harpswell. It is an interesting and beautiful drive, and at the end a dock with lobsters, crabs, and clams. They had small quahogs, of which we bought 20 for $7. The cherrystones (all the same clam, just different sizes, and ...) I had at Summer Shack in February, and the ones I remembered from NJ, were very tasty, at least as good as oysters...but these weren't as good. Plenty meaty but not quite as tangy. However, we met Eimly there, and had a takeout lunch from Erica's (next to the Dolphin), eaten at a picnic table by the water, just down the road. Then a walk in the Curtis Farm Preserve. So, a good Saturday.

Pfui

So quickly can one's world fall apart! No, I'm not talking about COVID-19. No, rather it is this: there are no oysters at the Campbells in Georgetown today. They have exhausted the supply and we have to wait fr the oysters to grow. C'mon, oysters, GROW! Meanwhile, there are some other opportunities and we will investigate some of those. My Classic American Short Stories ourse ended yesterday. It turned out to be a big hit. i guess I can chalk that about to people being stir-crazy. Unfortunately, it looks like it will morph into an online book group, which I offered to lead for week one. Then I go bye-bye.

Farewell, My Lovely

My faithful lawn mower, which served without complaining for many many years and spread its rare 22-inch deck over lots of lawn, gave up the ghost this afternoon. It had mowed like a trooper all morning, but just wouldn't keep firing after lunch. I suspect heart trouble--bad fuel pump--and it was time to go. The folks at Squirrel Point have taken it away and I'm sure they have someone who can fix it. On Sunday I will pick up a battery-operated mower with a 21-inch deck from Rocky's Hardware. Then we are down to gas engines only in the car and the boat. If you got the allusion in the title, you have a good understanding of bathos.

Autumn is launched

In this stay-at-home time, what could be better than a boat? Chaika is doing great service in Freeport, and now is our chance. As usual, she started first pull...but then we saw that nothing was coming out of the pee-hole. She ran fine and later I found an obstruction in the outlet hose, so all is well. This happens just as FINALLY the weather is turning seasonable, and soon, maybe even more than seasonal. Things are growing like mad, and tomorrow the lawn gets a haircut. Ironically, although I need a haircut less than almost anyone ("Papa don't got so much hair"), I can get one any time I want, thanks to Flowbee. Wish it could cut the grass.

Teaching

It has been a particularly cold and windy spring, after a gentle winter. Although the ramp and float have been in for a couple of weeks, we have had no desire to boat yet. But we hear that the second half of May will be nice and we will launch next week. Meanwhile I am keeping busy teaching two online courses in the Midcoast Senior College. One of them, Classic American Short Stories, is a reprise of an online course I taught in 2011. The other, Rabbit Ears, is a look at old-time television, mostly from the 1950s. Teaching has been an excellent distraction from the upside down coronavirus world.

Another Saturday

There hasn't been much to comment on recently. The days follow one another monotonously. The world has come to a halt. We do not have the coronavirus at present and Bart is fully recovered. Today, however, May 9, it snowed. The ground was warm enough so that here, at Fiddler's Crotch, it did not accumulate, although it snowed, on and off, all morning. At 10 we drove to Georgetown, donned our masks, and picked up our oysters and clams. How wonderful that Maine has native oysters.

Huevos Rancheros

Memories of Saturdays in 1977-78, when we drove up from Aptos for breakfast in the hills. This time it was a quarter can of chili and two fried eggs, smothered in 4 cheeses. Very good but missed the trip through the hills. I'm wondering if we'll ever be able to travel again, or if we can, will it be only in the USA, We have decided it would be a good thing to go camping for a night to break up the momentum of days when nothing is happening except Zoom sessions. The state parks will open for camping in June, according to the latest directive.

So Much for That

Yesterday was just glorious. We realized how much we had missed the spring. after the earliest and longest mud season evah we had a stretch of gloomy weather, and then the one day of glory. This morning, at 6 AM, the immediate future is clear, clouds and rain, showers and clouds. Ah, but yesterday! We were outside just about all day, sitting around in shorts, doing chores that had piled up, putting plants outside. A few days ago I built a bench, which is installed near hole 6 of frisbee golf, very near the spot where, years ago, I would sit on Sunday and do the crossword puzzle, no children around. Yesterday it was delightful to sit there and watch a pair of osprey fishing, circling high and peeping, then diving straight down, splash. And later, oysters and clams on the screen porch as we had our family Zoom.

Welcome, Spring!

Hey, we're back! After days of chill and damp, today dawned sunny, with a promise of warmth to come. The ramp and float went in a week or so ago, so I went down to look at it--clean of debris. A big tree trunk has washed up over towards the Coast Guard and Marnie is determined to get it out to sea. Hope it doesn't ram the float. We won't launch Autumn till we get a 70 degree day, and that doesn't appear to be coming soon. It's Saturday, so for the third week in a row we will drive to Georgetown, where a fisherman and his wife sell cocktail (smallish) oysters and steamers. A great new tradition.