Catching Up by Photo- yet again

When I named this my "everyday" blog, I meant not that I would post everyday but that it would be about ordinary, daily life-- just saying!  What I find, however, is that we did a couple of extra-ordinary things in late August and September and that left a big blogless space.

Departing from routine, John and I drove on the 27th of August up to Caribou, Maine and embarked the next morning on a loop bicycle ride from Caribou to St. Agatha, to Van Buren and back to Caribou.  We were accompanied on this jaunt by Liz and Rick Fitzsimmons.  It was the first time I had ridden a bicycle with panniers and I had some trepidation about it but in the end didn't notice much difference.  We carried very little-- just one set of bike clothes, one set of apres bicyclette and one set for sleeping.  I didn't even take a book-- something that I regretted.  The weather wasn't fabulous but we escaped a heavy downpour while touring one of the catchall museums seemingly typical of the area and it was great that we were never hot.  If anyone tells you that "the County" is flat, they are wrong-- my idea that we would be passing through great swaths of potato fields was a fantasy-- even where the area was heavily agricultural, the hills were not gentle.  But as John reminded me, it takes hills and valleys to make scenic beauty and much of what we saw on the trip was quite lovely.  Our first night, at the Long Lake Motor Inn in "Sain Agatte", was especially nice.  There was a welcoming bar to reward us for riding forty miles against the wind and the hotel staff arranged to drive us up to an excellent restaurant and had the restaurant staff return us to the hotel!

Liz and Dereka:  Photo by Rick

The highlight of the next day came when noon approached with no sign of any possible place to eat--  then, like a mirage out of the potato fields, appeared the "Misty Meadows Organic Farm" in Grand Isle.  Much more than a farm, the family owned enterprise includes a superb organic restaurant where they were very gracious about providing a gluten free meal for Liz and where I had possibly the best fried fish ever.  John had the daily special, beef stew with all the ployes he could eat and there were even cats to pat.  Although we knew it to be the case before we went, we all found it surprising that people who have lived their whole lives in Maine speak French in preference to English (although totally bilingual) but I was further surprised to learn that Gloria (?) at the Long Lake Inn speaks French first but cannot neither read nor write it.  She told us that reading and writing in French was forbidden in the Maine public schools.

We rushed back in time to liberate Darby from the Canine "Country Club" and to prepare for the next day arrival of Margaret, Andrew, Andrew's dad, Ron Richter, Eliza and baby William.  It was a jolly crowd at dinner, made strangely hilarious by the news that four days after FINALLY getting a job, Margaret discovered that she was enceinte.  That makes two daughters expecting at the same time-- something that gives them both a lot to talk about and me another grandchild to adore.  Here are the three of us, back at our old favorite game of Acquire.  Eliza won as always.  Ron and Andrew went off to hike and camp while the rest of us had a nice lazy weekend.

On Tuesday the 4th of September, John and I tooted off to an AMC facility in the North Maine Woods called Little Lyford Pond Camp.  It was an annual "over 50" outing and once again we were accompanied by Liz and Rick.  The camp was lovely (but surpassed by the nearby Gorham Chairback facility that is six miles away and that we visited after our second day hike).  An old "sporting" camp, it was purchased and rehabilitated by the AMC.  It poured the first night and into the morning and I was secretly hoping for an entire day of knitting and reading but it cleared enough for us to take a four miles walk around the two ponds.

In the later afternoon John and I took the l.5 mile nature trail-- walking very leisurely and paying close attention to the interpretative signs-- a lovely interlude for the two of us.

Each of the cabins had a private outhouse!

On the second day we hiked up the Third Mountain Trail to the Appalachian Trail and Monument Cliffs-- a totally gorgeous hike of the kind I love most-- pine trees, rocky, steep and difficult climbing but much preferable to a steep dirt trail through hardwoods--

Our days have been saddened only by the loss of Robin Richenaker.  While I knew Robin myself it was mostly because she was an especially close friend to Joan Herrick.  Their camps on Pitcher Pond are adjacent and for eleven years Robin and Joan walked their dogs together.  Robin has battled depression for many years and on the 31st of August choose to end the battle by suicide.  R.I.P Robin.

John's Birthday

When we first came to Maine I transplanted some Siberian Iris from a vacant lot nearby and over the years I have divided the original clump several times.  Now I am deciding that I don't really like the plant-- it has a short bloom and each clump expands outward but dies in the center.  They are tenacious plants, however, and have to be wrestled out of the ground with great heavings and choppings of a mattock-- These are many that I moved this spring and planted beside the ditch that springs from the perimeter drain.  They like wet feet and seem very happy in their new home.  They have done a great job dressing up the ditch and if I get more ferns in with them I think I will be satisfied.

Every morning at eight I meet my neighbors to walk our dogs around the circle.  Darby and Winston are off leash but Angus is deeply traumatized and kept on leash. It is alleged that he was never out of a cage from birth to six months when he was "rescued".  He is terrified of almost everything and even though it has been a year since he has been with Norm, he has never become comfortable with me or Karen.  He cringes from any attempt to pat him and refuses to take any treats.  Darby and Winston get regular doses of dried chicken as we move around the circle-- a treat that insures their close presence through the walk.  Angus is a handsome dog and has a lovely prance.  

These are the pale pink poppies planted near the porch.  My camera or the lighting or just the amateur nature of the photography in general give a poor representation of how beautiful they really are.  I will try again at dusk and see if I get better results.  

Today is John's 67th birthday.  My only presents for him are a rhubarb pie and a strawberry shortcake.  I was up very early this morning and finished all my newspaper puzzles in time to start the piecrust at 6:00 am. We are camping this weekend at Mt. Blue State Park in Weld so we will have the shortcake tonight and the pie for breakfast.  Andrew and Margaret will join us.

Joan had an upsetting meeting with her oncologist yesterday.  She is supposed to go on a maintenance regimen of chemotherapy and has learned that it will cost $3000 every 21 days (with a seven day break between) and that insurance will cover none of the cost. Her doc said she would need it "for the rest of her life".   This is, quite simply, impossible and I have spent many hours thinking about solutions.  It is incredible to think that she is being told, in effect, that she can buy some indefinite period of life for a cost that seems exorbitant-- they might do it for a year or so if they beggared themselves but what sense does that make?