Damn, I can't believe I haven't posted since last October and I think that post was one I'd written back in the summer.  Anyway, here I am at camp, solo for night #2, listening to some Sweet Melissa on my Ipod and loving the beautiful breeze coming off the Cobb and the various critters scurrying around, trying to get a last morsel of something before settling down for the night and allowing the nocturnal critters their domain.  Today's highlights:  watched as an eagle swooped down and snatched a nice fish from the Cobb out in front of camp.  That was pretty much it.  Didn't paddle today.  My arms are rather sore from two days of paddling in a row.  Tomorrow I'll be out there again and maybe do the whole trip down to the dam.

I should have driven to Augusta today and voted.  I didn't.  That's not like me.  But I have to say that I'm rather discouraged politically these days.  Fucking Trump.  Fucking LePage.  Fucking Maine Legislature.  They're trying to undo 2 referendums we passed last November: Ranked Choice Voting and a 3% tax on Mane's top earners to fund education to the 55% required in the Referendum we passed 10 years ago that they never achieved.  Fuckers.  Their response:  we're trying to get there.  Fuck you.  So if I'm pulled over for drunken driving can I respond:  Hey, I'm trying to get sober, I haven't had anything to drink for at least an hour?

I didn't sleep well last night.   I think it was that damn "death by chocolate" cake that Eddie had gotten for his birthday yesterday and insisted I take some home.  It called to me until I ate some and the caffeine in the chocolate kept me up until 4 am.

This is my third night at camp and I haven't managed to wake up to watch the sunrise yet.  I only see it reflected on the western shore of The Cobb but it's often pretty spectacular. Maybe I'll see it tomorrow morning.  A beer with dinner and a glass of wine and I'm expecting an early bedtime.

Betty is coming out tomorrow for a kayak paddle!

West Coast 2016

I've spent the last couple of days at camp solo.  I realize I haven't written much in my blog since my retirement which was one of the things I was sure I'd do once I had time.  hmmm . . ..

On my kayak paddle today (September 22, 2016) - the first day of autumn - I noticed the swallows that usually nest under the Hallowell-Litchfield Road bridge had already left for warmer climes.  However, I did see a few, though very sparse, population of red-winged black birds in the northern marsh.  Most, I suspect have also headed south.  

What I call the cormorant tree on Cobbosseecontee Stream in West Gardiner

The cormorants are still around and seem to be using the old cormorant tree again this year.  Heard some loons last night.  

I have to say that I'm extremely grateful that the family that owns the rooster lives far enough away so that I can only barely hear him crow from 4 to 7 am.  If I hadn't been awake reading my book, I wouldn't have heard him.  My closest neighbor upstream used to have chickens but thankfully they never had a rooster.  

My first 10 months of retirement have been everything I expected and wanted.  I still wake up in the morning with a sense of wonder that the day is mine, to do with as I wish.  If I want to spend the whole day reading a book, I can do that. If I feel like spending time in my pottery studio, that's what I do.  I have started a routine of going to the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so on those days that obligation is in place which is often not welcome.  But I feel stronger and have much more stamina and getting in and out of my kayak is much easier than it has been in years so the work is paying off.  I've lost 15 pounds as well so I'm happy about that.  

 We spent a couple of weeks on the West Coast in July.  We started off with a week with Jason, Adri, and Hugh in Claremont, CA, spending lots of time in their pool and playing with Hugh.  He just recently turned two and he's clearly got a mind of his own but is almost always happy, engaged, and delightful. 

"Again!" yells Hugh, until Jason's arms are like jelly.  :-)  

Rick, Hugh, and Jason walking to the park

 However, after a week of that we were ready for some adult time and rented a car and drove up to Big Sur.  We stayed a couple of nights at the Big Sur River Inn, hiked down to the Pacific Ocean at Andrew Molera State Park, had dinner at Nepenthe, and just admired the amazing views the area has to offer.  Two days after we left the area experienced some significant wildfires so I feel so fortunate that we were able to explore before that happened.  

Walking down to the beach at Molera State Park

Dipping my toes into the Pacific Ocean - it was cold and windy as heck!

Having drinks at Nepenthe

Our room at the Big Sur River Inn

We left Big Sur and drove up Route 1 to San Francisco to meet Jerry Nicosia for lunch.  Spent a couple hours with him at a nice little coffee shop in Mill Valley and then headed north again, on our way to visit Annie and Woody Woods just outside of Portland, OR.  We went inland to save time and stopped to visit some redwood forests along the way in the Avenue of the Giants.  

A magnificent redwood tree

We had decided to wing it in finding a room for the night and ended up in Eureka, CA at a sweet little hotel overlooking the rather industrial bay area. 

Our rather industrial view in Eureka, CA

 We talked to a gentleman at the Applebee's we ate at and asked about recommendations if we had just an hour or two to see the sights and he recommended an absolutely magical beach on our way about a half hour north called Houda Point in Trinadad CA and Luffenholtz Point.  Wow!  It was foggy and drizzly which really seemed to add to the magic of the place. 

Luffenholtz Point - the old man in the sea?

Houda Point, Trinadad, CA

 I could have spent days there but we were scheduled to reach Tualatin by 5 that night so we tore ourselves away and drove north, taking the James River road that took us from CA to OR.  Such beautiful, hilly, rugged country!  I really hope to come back in a camper and spend time in northern California - both the wine/ranch country north of San Francisco and the more rugged areas around Eureka. 

We arrive in Tualatin and had a wonderful visit with Annie and Woody Woods.  

Rick, Annie, Woody, and myself.  I may have had a little of that herb that's legal in Oregon.

At McMenamins on the Columbia River in Vancouver, Washington with our great friends Annie Courchesne Woods and Woody Woods.

The Columbia River Gorge - Oregon on the right and Washington on the left

At the Portland Saturday Market - great people watching

At McMinimans in Washington

Our last night in Oregon

First Weekend at Camp 2014

After work Thursday night Rick and I went to look at a house in Hayford Heights in Farmingdale.  Nice house, good price, but zero room to park a camper so just doesn’t really work for us.  I then went to KLFI to pick up my order of locally grown and raised food: crabcakes from Hallowell Sea Food, some chicken, sausage, greens, chives, granola, and a few other things.  Had to stop by Hannaford to supplement my local food with a few bottles of wine and some beer as well as the usual staples, and got to camp and rushed to put away my groceries as I’d planned to meet Betty in Hallowell for music by Chris Paulson at Hatties.  However, just as I put on my jacket and walked out the door I realized how much I really just wanted to stay at camp and listen to the peeper, bullfrogs, and loons, so turned around and came back in.  I texted Betty to let her know I wasn’t going to make it and invited her out to hang me with at camp and she accepted.  We had a wonderful evening; drank almost two bottles of wine and had a great chat.  Fortunately she’d brought her overnight necessities so we realized after the first bottle that she wasn’t driving anyplace. 

Friday afternoon Rick came out and we had plans to go out that night but again, the loons and peepers were calling and we decided at the last minute to stay in. Fortunately we had the crab cakes and veggies from KLFI so was able to make a delicious meal and open a bottle of wine.  Lovely night. 

Saturday I had three houses to look at while Rick went to Belgrade Lakes to talk with a guy about our cottage whose foundation appeared to be collapsing.  Thirty grand to fix it perfect and now we need to get an estimate to demolish it.  Both will be presented to any prospective buyers but it’s gonna be the cottage “as is.”  A couple of houses on the Kennebec River in Randolph were pretty sweet but one was well within the flood zone and I just don’t want to have to deal with that and the other was gorgeous with a delightful enclosed porch overlooking the river from high out of the flood plain but would take a major amount of yard work to keep it up and I don’t think Rick wants that kind of commitment in our retirement home.  We also looked at a ranch with a two car attached garage in a nice Augusta neighborhood but it was just a tad too small inside, plus it needed all the aromatic carpet replaced.  Another pass.  We figured out that was house #15 we’d looked at.  The search continues.

So we came home had a late lunch and I think we both read and napped, waking up about 7 pm to wonderment about what might be for dinner.  I had bought the makings for English muffin pizza Thursday night at Hannaford so that along with some leftover salad from last night and some nice Mountain Ale brewed in Stowe, VT made a delicious meal. 

Sunday Justin came out and helped clean up the yard and everything is looking great. 

  

He left and Rick headed home to mow the Belgrade Lakes house and I decided to spend my first solo night at camp.  I finished most of my book and puttered around outside for a while.  Put another crab cake in the toaster oven and tossed together some more salad and enjoyed another delicious meal. 

60 - wow

I turned 60 last Monday.  Wow.  60 means old.  No convincing yourself that you’re still middle aged.  60 is old.  It was really old when I was younger and though it’s not nearly as old now, it’s still old.  But, damn, I really like being 60.  I know I could stop working tomorrow if I chose to do so.  I could collect enough Social Security retirement and pension to get by.  It might mean a smaller life – spending more time at home.  In summers doing gardening, winters pottery.  But I’d be in control of my time.     

On my drive to work earlier this week I watched an older woman walking from her mailbox with the newspaper and couldn't help but think how leisurely that felt at 8:00 a.m.   I was envious that on this showery November day one might choose to stay home by a nice fire and read the local paper, maybe do all the puzzles: Sudoku, jumble, cryptoquip, and crossword.   If the skies cleared she might go out later and do a little yard work, or maybe just stay in and get lost in a good novel.  

I’m hoping to be able to build a year round home on my property on Cobbossee Stream.  Summers always see a nice breeze, great kayaking, lots of wildlife to watch, and easy access.  Winters and spring are likely to have some access issues since there’s an almost mile long dirt road but I feel like it will be a challenge that could be rewarding to face.  Stock up, stay in, find your own entertainment.  I love that . . . as long as it doesn't last 6 months.  J 

I would like to think we could take an annual trip to California to visit Jason and Adri and maybe a side adventure to Sedona, San Franciso, Joshua Tree or such. 

I guess we’ll see . . .

But so far, 60 is good.  

November morning at camp

I woke to a soft fall morning on the stream; muted reds and yellows, a warm blue sky filled with wispy clouds; ground almost fully obscured by fallen leaves.  Slept soundly from 10:30 last night till 9:30 this morning.  I really needed a good night sleep after the conference yesterday that I’ve been planning since April.  Big success.  And a fun night out in Hallowell: dinner with Mary Sampson at Hatties while Katie serenaded us with some mellow tunes and then drinks and dancing at the grand reopening of Higher Grounds with Lisa, Tammy, Jen, Ellen, David, and Sue as Stevie and friends belted out the blues. 

I filled all the bird and squirrel feeders a little earlier this morning.  It always takes them a while to discover the food so I beat on my djembe to let them know I was here and sure enough, they arrived with haste.  I see a couple of red squirrels, some nuthatch and chickadees.  I’m sure the blue jays and woodpeckers will be along soon.  And of course, the ubiquitous crows. Not a huge variety this time of year, but once a food source is discovered they tend to hang around pretty regularly till it’s gone.  I spotted Edmund out exploring in the marsh this morning and was relieved because I hadn't seen him in several weeks.  An eagle soared out over the stream this morning too.  Thanks for visiting, Mom.  

Took this photo last weekend as the fog lifted slowly on a Saturday morning.

This guy was out in front of the camp paddling and fly fishing

Vacation - July 10th

It’s the second day of my second week of vacation.  It amazes me how I can completely disconnect from work when I’m on vacation; I guess it’s a survival mechanism I learned during my almost 35 years doing the same kind of work.    

I’m still early enough in my vacation that I haven’t started to get anxious about it almost being over.  I’ve got practically a whole month left.  The endless days of summer –  when you might kayak a few hours in the morning, read a book, have a campfire at the end of the day, or just sit and watch the fireflies and listen to the bullfrogs and loons.   There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of books written about achieving “presence” – how to; why to; when to.  Yet I wonder if there’s a defect in my character that allows me to sit there “present” for hours on end, observing all that’s happening around me.  Like the way the nuthatch takes just one seed from the feeder, flies to a nearby tree and finds a crevice to stick the seed into so he can crack it open with his beak to eat it.  I always wonder if that’s really a net gain, calorie wise.  Or the way the water is so calm you’re more likely to see a reflection of an eagle or osprey in the water before you see him flying overhead.  I like the way the ends of the maple leaves curl back in a breeze and the centers catch the sun so that they look more silver than green.    

The duckweed has started to move in and the water lilies, wild rice, and reeds have started to poke their heads above the surface of the water.  The cove is taking on the midsummer characteristics of a marsh and leaving behind the rushing and unpredictable stream of spring. 

Today is a perfect 82ish with a warm breeze that every once in a while increases in intensity and almost feels like a squall.  But then it eases back, and the sun returns as if to say, “Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention.”   I smile and say thanks. 

This morning I finished my second Elizabeth Berg book, Open House.  Predictable but a pleasant read.  Her other book was recommended to me by my son who works at the local library.  I don’t go to the library very often but that’s where our voting station is so I decided to pick up a book while I was there to vote recently.  We’re All Welcome Here I think was the name of the first one.  Much less predictable and rather remarkable actually, about a woman who became a quadriplegic from polio, raising her daughter in the South of the 60s.   A rather implausible ending but still a good read.

Let’s see, in addition to those two books, since vacation started I’ve read The Crossing Places by Elly Griffiths, (loved it – about a middle aged female archaeologist turned detective.  I found it by Googling for a book that takes place on a marsh.  I love reading books that take place in the location where I’m reading.  This took place on a salt water marsh, rather than something like my own little marshy stream cove, but it worked out well because I started it here and finished it at the coast.)  I then read Hull Creek by Jim Nichols, a novel set on the coast of Maine which my friend who recommended it told me was written by a Maine native.   Just before vacation started I finished a book by Ann Rice that was recommended in an NPR article entitled, “What to Read Instead of 50 Shades of Gray.”  Apparently Rice wrote this series of 3 books under a pseudonym and only fessed up many years later when they became quite popular.  They’re pretty dark.  I just read the first one and will probably stop there though I do want to know how things end for the protagonist. 

I’ve been streaming a Lucinda Williams station on Pandora through my smartphone plugged into an iPod player with speakers.  They’re playing some wonderful music.  I just noticed it’s almost one o’clock and I haven’t even had breakfast – just a couple cups of coffee.  Maybe I’ll have some of the pasta casserole I made last night in the toaster oven – a spicy Arabiata sauce to which I added black olives, baby mushrooms, feta cheese, whole wheat organic spaghetti and a generous amount of Merlot wine.  Came out quite delicious if I do say so myself.  I finished off almost all of the remainder of the Merlot with dinner. 

The marsh is alive with dragon and damsel flies and the fish jump and snatch one for lunch every so often.  I saw an eagle soaring overhead yesterday as well as several osprey (one of the books I just read called them fish hawks).  Think I’ll head out for a paddle.  

Just enjoyed a 2 or 3 hour paddle – I never think to check the time when I leave.  Paddled down to the Route 126 bridge and then came back and went upstream to where the stream narrows by the log cottage.  I was happy to see some loons cause I haven’t heard any since I got here yesterday.  But they’re still around and looking happy.  Looks like my neighbors left while I was gone so it’ll be a quiet night.  Maybe I’ll beat on my djembe for a while – I’m sure the critters won’t object.    

Flood has receded

You can see the flood has receded substantially

The island is gone, though a new, smaller one moved in to the side.

Lots of cute little turtles in the cove this year.  This photo taken from the deck.

I love having meals on the deck while watching activities on the stream.

Flood of June 2012

Pretty hostas 

rather wet hostas

Underwater flowers

With the island

Without the island

I've been enjoying a lazy rainy day of coffee in bed, last Sunday's newspaper puzzles, and a cozy fire. Temps are probably hovering about 60.  Critters are out in force, including the sounds of eagles and osprey overhead.  If you happen to be looking at the right time or if you're quick enough when you hear a splash, you'll see one of them carry off a nice fish.

I love my little one room camp - my fortress of indulgence.  Internet access through my new Android phone to communicate with the world if I wish, a little Rumi, and my latest book on my Kindle.  I'm glad I got in a long paddle on the stream yesterday cause I won't be going out today even though there was a guy, raincoat and all, fishing right out front earlier.  I was sitting in bed Thursday night watching a fisherman out on the stream casting towards the camp as I counted 5 big fish jump behind him.  I think I heard one snicker.

A loon from my Friday paddle.

I like the way you can barely see camp from the stream.

Brunch 

lovely sunset last weekend

last weekend's campfire

When I got back from my paddle yesterday I started watering my flowers and noticed one of the "rocks" in the garden started moving.

The front of his shell is covered with duckweed from the stream.  He was moving very slowly and later appeared to be dead, sitting there on shore with feet and legs out, surrounded by flies.  Rick touched him with a stick and his eyes flickered open but he didn't move.  Maybe he was just waiting for the flies to get close enough so he could eat them but he just looked so pathetic we decided to wash the duckweed off him with a hose to see if it revived him.  Well it did wake him up or whatever and he slowly turned around and made his way into the stream.  You could see the path he made underwater by the way the reeds moved as he swam.  We were very relieved that he appeared well and didn't die right there in the garden.

Well I'm glad I got a chance to post some of my recent photos.  Time now to unplug and enjoy my fortress of solitude.

I hear the Kindle faintly calling but right now I'm just savoring the sound of rain falling on the tin roof.  It always makes me think of Nora Jones' song, "Come Away With Me":

"And I want to wake up with the rain

Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night"