Mainly Maine

There is an overabundance of puns as one drives up the coast of Maine. It is quite fun to count them and read them aloud. Mainely Made, Mainley Vinyl (siding, not records) and Mainely Cuts just name a few. But for every not so clever twist on the state's name, there exists in tenfold exquisite rivers, islands, and brightly painted row boats to woo you.  With sister and cousins in tow we enjoyed a chilly and foggy and lovely time away in this beautiful state.  The home we stayed in was a dream, with old Beatrix Potter books stacked on bedside tables, and Louisa May Alcott classics in the corners of spare bedrooms. May our rector's reward be great for his astonishing generosity.

 On Friday, we turned into 1-800-Maids wrecking havoc on any dust that we saw, hoping that by our voracious cleaning we might be able to secure a future invitation again, and then sadly forced ourselves to leave and curve our way home, down east again.  The kids were terrible on the ride back which left us no other options, but to deprive them of a greasy roadside lunch.  However, my sister and I were able to laugh through their naughtiness and our cruel punishment, as we spoke calmly from the front, "Stop that."  I am pretty sure my two couldn't hear this request as they are used to commands at a much higher decibel.

We came home with the grumps, and it seemed that every word out of Myles' mouth could curdle milk. But there was one small, random comfort today that I latched on to. My kids can appreciate Jim Henson. For some it is, The Ramones, and other's I don't know. But the fact that these two enjoy watching Bob Hope hosting The Muppet Show, brings me a small measure of satisfaction. That maybe things will turn out ok.

And things will definately turn out ok, because Poppy and Ereth survived the wildfire that ravaged Dimwood Forest. Ereth has to be our most favorite character at the moment.  Period. 

Here are my notes to self for next time:
Bring cash. They don't really like American Express in Maine.  The clammers just smile at you and laugh.  Go back to Camden for the smoothie truck who also laughed at my AmEx. 
Go to Saltwater Farm next July to celebrate the storming of the Bastille. 
Hire the poster designer of Bastille Day to run my life. 
Do not attempt glamour shots next to large bodies of water with unattended toddlers. Note the Drama-in-Real-Life about to happen in the foreground.  We can laugh about it now.

Mountain Luck

In January, we inadvertently scheduled our NH camping weekend for the first day of summer.  Now I am delighted with the timing and cannot wait to breath in some sweet mountain air.  Crawford Notch State Park, here we come. I will cover my eyes as we drive by the Garnet Hill outlet in North Conway. No big deal.  We are loaded up with customized trail mix, and pork products. (I will attempt sausage gravy in the skillet over some thawed sour cream biscuits.) My friend handed off to me the Gooney Bird audio collection for the drive up, and I am thrilled to give them a try.  She also snuck in a few cd's from the Meet Felicity collection for good measure. Them things are like buttered popcorn. And away we go.

Driveway Moments

It is a familiar scene. Car parked, windows down, and two kids occupying the front seats waiting for a story to end.  When NPR does their pledge drive, they ask their listeners to remember the "driveway moments."  Where one sits in the driveway, unable to pull away from some spellbinding segment. Certain audiobooks will create these for our family. They are blessed times when I am able to sneak into the house, pour myself a quiet glass of wine, finish seasoning the lentil soup, and catch the news. Yesterday our driveway moment could not have come on a better evening. I was tired and feeling quite mute. Sometimes I will respond to a barrage of questions with elaborate hand gestures.  I do this for peace, because the alternative is nothing anyone wants to hear. But yesterday I didn't need to. My thanks goes out to the following sponsors:

 I hope the summer that lies ahead has a few of these in store for all of us.

The Umbrella Queen

High in the hills of Thailand is where I want to be. And not just because The Bachelor went there to woo his ladies, and it was beautiful. But because Noot lives there. In this story a little girl joins in the tradition of painting umbrellas. One day she brings a new perspective. I love this book. I picked it up off the shelf and it surprised me. A plot unlike any other. I am trying to remember the words of my mother at the moment. "Don't be a puddleglum." And besides it is not everyday your daughter's best friend turns five. A reason to celebrate indeed. Of course we are giving her Little House in the Big Woods. Accompanied by garden fairy watercolors. Question. Do you give paperback books as gifts? This might be my first and I am feeling a little ashamed.

Spring is near. A shelf of good tidings makes me happy.

Yesterday, Alvin Ho was adopted into our family for good. A delightful boy is he.

Robin, Where Are You?

I have a mild bird obsession. Our new home will not be complete until we have mom and pop cardinal living in the yard. My dream of being able to hear a bird's song and identify the breed without straining too hard will never die. Currently the list is pretty short, with seagulls and crows at the top, but my hope was renewed by Harriet Ziefert's book out called, Robin, Where Are You? It is a perfect beginner's guide to bird watching and lightly follows the story of a girl and her grandfather on a patient search of a robin. The art by Noah Woods is outstanding, and the facts are lovely little nuggets that can be tucked away. For example, this book taught me that a mourning dove got its name from its "mournful" call, not because it wakes early in the "morning." I always thought it was a "morning" dove. Whoops. It is also full of bright and colorful flaps that are turned to reveal a shy wood thrush or a noisy blue jay along the way. A great book for this time of year, as we eagerly await Robin Redbreast and his sign of Spring.

Car Anesthesia

If you have not hear Stockard Channing read the Ramona books aloud then you have been suffering needlessly. OMG. The fight between Mr. and Mrs. Quimby over whose grandmother reigns supreme is from another planet.  Cleary's insights are uncanny!  Traveling to the hardware store to look at paint swatches is a joy when you know after the chore, you will hop back into the middle of the Quimby's escapades. And yes, this is the one where Ramona squeezes the brand new tube of toothpaste into the sink. Priceless.