Observations ... of the random type ...

We have been here a little over two weeks and feel we are beginning to understand the area a bit better. Yes, on Friday we failed to find the cardboard recycling place using verbal directions provided, but we will check maps and learn where to go to accomplish this task. The place appears to be a "transfer station." The bottles - both glass and plastic - can be redeemed for cash at the Hannaford's in Bar Harbor or given to the redemption center in West Tremont as a donation to the Habitat for Humanity effort.


Papa Bear took this amazing picture of Lupine during our quest to find the cardboard recycling place, so the journey had value even if we did not complete that particular quest. My experience is that few journeys here are without some type of value - either a great view, an opportunity to reflect on something seen, completion of a task, gathering a better understanding of this place, etc. Am I simply more appreciative of this place, or am I more present to it because it is new and I am not otherwise focused on what day-to-day task lays ahead, and am therefore more in tune with where I am and what is happening now, or is the lack of pressing deadlines making me more open to the now? The reason matters not, I am enjoying this self-paced journey.

This early in the "season," stores that are open are closing early. We called to order a pizza at 6:30 p.m. last Sunday and were told that the oven had closed. The store was open, but no pizza. Most stores close before 7 p.m. these days (they will be open later as the spring/summer progresses - school ends on June 18th, so perhaps we will see later hours as the high schoolers seek summer employment). No, they do not "roll up the sidewalks" as we have strolled on them and I suspect the Bar Harbor area merchants are open later than here on the "Quiet Side" of the Island.

I was able to Skype a bit for my book club at the House on the Creek this past week and it was delightful to see these good friends of mine and to hear their voices, too. I thank them for their patience as the connection kept dropping. Papa Bear has suggested I try a wired connection to the Internet at the meeting next month.

I am hoping to take my first-ever yoga class on Monday. It is yoga and mindfulness meditation, which I have done in the community at the House on the Creek, so it should be an interesting experience.

St. Andrews-by-the-Lake has services at 8 a.m. on Sunday, but I went to St. John's in Southwest at 10 a.m. today. They are sister churches. I am guessing the pastor at St. John's has been called elsewhere. This morning we were blessed (and I mean that in its truest sense) by the Reverend Vesta Kowalski. She has been at St. John's before when I have attended there while on vacation and I find her theology to be both challenging and often on-target. She speaks simply and directly, from scripture and current events, and shares hard truths and challenges about our calling as being children of God (our forgiving others - even BP - and our accepting the forgiveness that exists for us and our forgiving ourselves). She will not, alas, be there next week, but perhaps God will send us someone equally gifted or who will touch us in a different way with different gifts.

We are having our highest high tides of the month and also our lowest low tides of the month this week. I know not why these do not somehow coincide with the full moon, but they do not; instead, they are at the time of the new moon.

I told Papa Bear that the curly sproutings on the path to the cove had unfurled to reveal that they are ferns. Papa Bear said they were likely fiddlehead ferns, and he is correct. Fiddlehead ferns are young ferns yet-to-unfurl. Some types are edible.

Some buildings here do not have gutters - overhangs about, but no gutters. (There are some buildings with gutters.) The House on the Cove lacks gutters. There is an edge to catch and divert rainwater to the sides of the entrance door, but not gutters.

There are speciality food shops here. It is a blessing. And a danger, too, for within the specialties there are many good things. Yesterday we purchased fresh bread at the Southwest Little Notch Bakery shop. We also purchased some marvelous apple tarts. We used the bread for meatloaf sandwiches last night and will use the rest to accompany other planned meals in upcoming days. I think this is the first time we have bought bread here, other than sandwich rolls. The apple tarts we ate with ice cream. We have hot dogs on the menu for this next week. We will purchase the buns for them the day we have them, likely at a grocery store. The hot dog buns here are split on the top, not the side (as happens at the House on the Creek). Not certain that where the split happens changes the taste of the repast, but it is fun and seems a good approach: top-loading the hot dog instead of side-loading it.

I am impressed with the growth of plants here: there are rhododendrons (now fading, so no picture) that bloomed from ground to the top of the first story of homes, peonys that seem to be double the height of anything I have seen in Virginia (and whose numerous upright strong stalks will soon be bowed with blooms), and, as I have said before, lilacs that were cascading in profusion and lovely lupine everywhere. Perhaps it is the short growing season that encourages the plants to strive to be their very best as quickly as possible. We are told by the winter CareTaker of the House on the Cove (a kind, honest, and gentle person who uses neither computers nor cell phones) that it became warm here in February which resulted in an early spring. The local news people have made that observation as well. We were following temperatures here from the House on the Creek and while the temperatures were warmer than at the House on the Creek most days this past winter, I believe that a) that situation was unusual rather than normal and b) it was not exactly what I call "warm" here, but perhaps warmer than normal is what was meant.

We are still having fun riding our bicycles. Today we went to breakfast at Grumpy's after I returned from worship (Papa Bear loves their corned beef hash), and then we headed to Bar Harbor for some fudge (from Ben and Bill's Chocolate Emporium) and dark chocolate almond bark (they have some amazing concoctions) and they have ice cream, too. After purchasing cones, we sat in Agamont Park and watched the boats in the light fog in the harbor. then we did some window shopping and found some magnets for our refrigerator and came home for a quiet afternoon of baseball via television and some reading and napping. Tomorrow may be a trip to Bangor. Or not. We will have to see what the day brings after the day arrives.

In the Beginning

I know not if it was angels dancing, singing and cajoling, or perhaps an alignment of the stars, or just fate having its way, but somehow this girl born in Pennsylvania, who grew up in south central New York state and south-west West Virginia met (in Virginia) the boy who grew up in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. We fell in love, married, and eight years later had our child, Baby Bear. When she was eight years old, we moved to the House on the Creek and went on vacation to Mount Desert Island in Maine, which somehow felt like home and so became a yearly destination for us.

Baby Bear is now grown and married (to her beloved Boo Boo). They live in the environs of Boston, Massachusetts. Mama Bear and Papa Bear are about to undertake the glorious adventure of their retirement. Some have asked, "Whatever will you do?" My response has been, "However will we find time to do all we are anticipating doing?"

Our first adventure will be to spend a summer on Mount Desert Island. The Cat (formerly attached to Baby Bear until Baby Bear went to grad school, when The Cat somehow became attached to Mama Bear and Papa Bear) is learning to travel in a car without objecting, cleanup is happening at the House on the Creek so that those staying here this summer can enjoy their time here, and we are contemplating what needs to go with us to the House on the Cove so that we can enjoy our time there (my thought: not much!).

I have been asked what it is that makes Mount Desert seem like home to me. I do not know exactly - it is just a feeling I have in my bones each time I travel the causeway at Trenton to the Island. I love the way the mountains come to the sea, the brisk air, the tides coming in and going out, the birches among the hardwoods among the evergreens, the fog that rolls through,the rain and the sun and the ice and the snow, the places to hike and bike, the kindness and helpfulness of the people, the pace of life that seems slower and more deliberate (remember: we have always been on vacation when we have visited there in the past). Perhaps the following three stories will help to illustrate why I want to spend the first summer of our retirement on Mount Desert, in the House on the Cove:

* Reading an Island newspaper several years ago, I came across the police report for a town near the House on the Cove. In the story, an officer was making his rounds and noticed a dog out-and-about without its owner or a leash (the latter being a violation of a local ordinance). Having no more pressing crime to pursue, the officer followed the dog until it went to a house and scratched on the door. When a human opened the door and invited the dog inside, the officer approached, wrote a ticket and gave it to the human. I like the idea of place where there is time for this type of enforcement ...

* Trying to arrange an address at which we can receive USPS mail when at the House on the Cove, I completed an online form. At the end of the process, I was given a PDF of the information I had supplied and instructions that told me to print the form and take it to the post office with my identification. I called the postmaster there, to ask if I could take my identification to a post office near the House on the Creek, and have that postmaster contact the House on the Cove postmaster, so that we would have a working address before we arrived there. She said no, that would not work, she needed to see our ID, but that she had seen our application and would reserve a mailbox for us there. She then discussed the relative merits of the boxes she had available - the one assigned by the automated system had a key that did not work well, so she was recommending another box. She then shared that having a box not near the floor would be easier to check for mail (I agree), and then asked if I liked a particular number (she told me what the number was). I told her it sounded like a great number, so she has put a hold on that box for us (it is midway up the wall of boxes), and asked that we bring our photo ID and proof of affiliation with the property (a town tax bill will do) to her shortly after we arrive. I like the experience of people who know the rules, enforce them strictly, but still make it possible to accomplish a goal.

* I was reading an Island newspaper recently and noted that in the column on police activity (which is apparently always a fascinating read to me!) a woman had called one of the police stations on the Island because the place at which she was staying had mice. She was terrified and wanted to know if the officers could help. They advised her to go to the near-by all-night have-everything store to purchase some traps and bait, telling her to ask the person at the store for assistance in selecting her merchandise. She did as asked, then called the police again: she had made her purchases, but had no idea how to set the traps. An officer was dispatched to her premises to provide instruction on setting the traps, and to advise how to use a shovel to move what the traps caught outside her abode. I like the fact that the officers were willing and able, when they had the time, to stop and help with a situation outside their normal area of expertise: it was incredibly kind of them to do so.

Change is in the air, and we are most excited about it. We are working to see that our leaving is easy on our employers and our colleagues and that we have all ready here before we leave. Will there be bumps? Of course! What if we find we cannot tolerate life at the House on the Cove for as long as a summer? Then we will have more changes to undertake. Whatever happens, it will be fun, and we are looking forward to whatever happens with great joy. This blog will recount some of what happens during this journey.