Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Rainy days

Tuesday, July 15
Curled up on an old over-worn loveseat, rain streaming down the boxed windows, the pitter patter of water trickling from the pitched gutterless roofline into the tin pan below left out for the cats, kittens and dogs passing by. Reading the latest page-turning novel with a freshly brewed cup of your favorite coffee in hand…this is relaxation. This is the way I would have loved to spend a day like today.  Hulled up on Mount Dessert Island as the local Southwet Harbor Mainers go about business as usual bringing in their catch, unloading at the docks, ships coming and going from the Harbor just across the street, the smells of ocean breezes and salty air thick and wet as the humidity approaches 100%.  
But at 6:30am this morning when I heard a small, sweet voice calling, “Mommy”, I knew the only pitter pattering I would hear would be Sage’s feet clambering in the kitchen, banging around in the bathroom, climbing and falling off of the furniture, throwing rocks across the room, banging my toothbrush against the toilet bowl, and picking food out of the trash can.  Toddlers hands are small and dirty and sticky and full of mischief.  But these same little busy hands know how to melt mommies hearts too. 
Rising early is usually pretty convenient for these mama’s as we’re up and ready to greet the day by 8am after having fed the little one’s tummy, washed his grimy hands slathered his body with the usual chemicals needed to face the great outdoors.  Dr. Joe says Sage is sensitive and he’s right.  The first few times he was bit by mesquites we took him to the dr. because we thought something poisonouss must have gnarled on his legs or injected some deadly venom into his silky pink skin.  Unfortunately, he is just a sensitive babe with very intense reactions to things.  This sure doesn’t stop him from running, jumping climbing, dashing, falling, rolling on any and every surface, though.  Just yesterday we visited Echo Lake for a swim and Sage was nearly diving into the water headfirst…throwing his body down backwards into the water, practically begging his mama’s to help him float.  This child is fearless…. yet so vulnerable!  
We are constantly taken aback by the amount of trust Sage places in us…he feels so safe, and is ready to meet the world head on when he has his mommy and mama nearby.  Each time we go somewhere whether we’re packing him in the baby carrier, the stroller or he’s waling between us it’s the same thing- roll call: Mama?  Yes, Sage, Mama’s right here.  Mommy?  Yes, baby, Mommy is here too.  Mama?  Yes, baby I’m here.  Mommy?  Hi Sage… this goes on several time throughout our adventure until he is sure that we are there, al three of us, together, and sure of one another… His trust in us doesn’t always mean he willingly accepts our help or is eager to depend on us, but knowing we are there gives him the extra boost that allows him to be the big boy he so desperately wants to be.  
So, today, the opening and closing of cabinet drawers, the throwing of decorative rocks across the wooden floor of the house we are renting this week, the insistence upon sitting in his “time-out” floor space, while laughing and playing as if mocking the whole thing- and he has a point.  Climbing the antique movie/bookcase in search of the sound system, touting his medicine bottles around reaching for kitchen knives, digging for food in the trash, and reading books- lots of books, one or two at a time… but only the books boasting touch and feel kittens with fur that feels like your grandfather’s stuffed fox’s fur.  He also likes the night-night peekaboo book, and I don’t know how he’s not freaked out by the doll inside- even I can’t look at that thing for more than 5 seconds.  Her eyes are as hollow as tree trunks, and her touch and feel hair is truly a piece of burlap.  BUT He is such a little wonder… full of awe and inspired by everything new, his eyes are constantly looking, seeing for the first time, seeing to believe, to receive knowledge and mystery and beauty and surprise… such a wonder.  
Right, so these inside the gloomy, boring house games lasted through the morning hours until mommies were ready to get OUT!  Of course, it rained on, and without knowing where we were going, we were in the car going bye bye.  A quick turning around of the car headed us into the town of Ellsoworth where we were sure to find a solid meal and some place to run around…. oh, and thank God for LL Bean and the rain jackets to face the 80% chance of rain day tomorrow.  
Mediocrity can accurately describe the bites we had in town…such an odd dilemma to find yourself sitting in a bustling restaurant with locals and visitors alike, hands flying here and there, bumping into one another on the way to the ladies room, drinks toppling over and children screaming in the distance… and then to leave dissatisfied… It’s kind of like going to Disney World, battling the long lines, ferocious moms and dads eager enough for their littes ones to meet minnie mouse and get a picture with goofy that they’ll topple over you, push you aside, elbow you in the face, step on your toes and outright tell you to get of the way!  But, you manage because it’s Disney World and you know you there are good times to be had.  So, the Riverside Cafe cannot and should NEVER be compared to Disney World, but let’s just say - lousy food, not great service, an odd sense of almost character and an extreme disconnect with the “local” brand you were looking for.  There’s nothing worse than not liking your meal when you’re out to eat- especially when you’re really hungry and when you aren’t sure you are going to like your next meal either.  
Oh, food, hunger, desire, gluttony, such a luxury to complain about not liking my selection of foods. 

Well, it was a great distraction- the spoiled rainy day that ushered us from Acadia Natoinal Park adventures to Ellsworth C+, cash only burrito bars, boring cafes and crazy kid rooms in bookstores brought us home to an evening of pure yoga, ice cream, and an evening walk in the oceanside breeze.  What more could a baby boy ask for?  Sleep is an invitation to start over again the next day. 

1774

Monday, July 14, 2014
Castine is a lovely little town with pleasant people full of charm, it’s awnings never the same color as the last nor made of the same material…one house down from the Inn displayed a lot-size garden trimmed with marble arches and sandstone pathways.  The hot damp air glistened upon my skin as I walked down the broken sidewalk, a footpath, really, that narrowed near the crossroads and picked back up across the street.  A corner deli boasted the year 1774 proud to have been around longer than the United States of America had been united.  It’s frame was sturdy and tall, an old hospital or nobleman’s chambers I would suppose with an arched entry way, door frames wider than those of that time depicting its wealth and stature.  Now the only thing of noble means coming out of that place was a tiny poodle dressed in 4th of July garb.  No, it wasn’t the 4th of July.  The fireworks had been cancelled the week prior due to bad weather and rescheduled for tonight…how could i be so lukcy? 
As I neared the harbor I could tell that the visitors in town were few as most eyes were tilted in my direction some stares, a wave and a hello, but mostly just blank-stares.  Granted it wasn’t the cool refreshing kind of weather that one would expect for this time in Maine, but a 98% humid day with full sun and not a cloud in the sky.  Mostly, beautiful, but still a hot and humid day that gave way to sitting, watching, sleeping, picking and staring.  
The harbor was small, but boasting the largest ship on this side of the seaboard, the maritime academy training vessel was docked directly in front of the Breeze ice cream stand and public restrooms in the heart of the Castine community.  There were three restaurants in town: Dennet’s is the kind of place that should really just call themselves Denny’s on the water or Fried and dipped, or smells like fish.  It’s a mystery to me, really, how people survive on fried seafood every day….there wasn’t one vegetable listed on the menu, and french fries are a sorry excuse for a vegetable.  Not even the kids menu included a healthy option!  The people were friendly, the view was great and there were plenty of dogs for Sage to wave at and say “dog” over and over and over again.  But the food was just plum nasty.  
On our second night the Pentagoet Inn, located just adjacent to the Castine Inn where we were staying was loud with happy hour chatter, glasses in hand, men and women dressed in their polos and lilly pulitzer sailboat dresses, anticipating a glorious evening together.  Seems to me they were having a large social as they all seemed to know each other.  I’m not usually one to care, but because I hadn’t seem as much as a large family strolling down the streets of Castine I was curious as to who these people were and where they had come from?  The Inn hostess didn’t know either, but agreed that it was some kind of exclusive party.  Needless to say we decided to walk on by.
McFraley’s pub was not even worth mentioning really, but just so you know how bad it was and so that you don’t ever pass by there and need to die early- I’ll give you the details. 
We walked in with an 18-month old in his stroller, granted, and the big huge dude with the tattoos i’m not against tattoos, stared at us not even asking if we would like to sit down?!  We finally asked if we could seat ourselves and he said, “yeah” and made a hand guesture.  Not sure where he was gesturing though because they only appropriate tables that were open were on the outside hallway where Sage’s stroller actually got stuck when were tried to venture towards a seat.  There were other available seats, but two of them were arcade games with twirly red and blue mushroom seats for chairs.  Ugh!  At this point I was just hungry, so 1774 it was!  
After scouring the menu we decided on shrimp baskets- how could anyone mess that up?  We placed our orders with the young girl waiting on us, and realized that she was the ONLY person working in the whole restaurant.  After taking our order she disappeared behind the large half wall extending through the middle of the restaurant.  We could hear her, though, no the phone.  She said I need help, Send Kevin.  Then, again, we heard heard on the phone saying, I need two shrimp baskets, and then, “we don’t”?  OK..  She approached our table as if we hadn’t just heard her entire conversation and tried to gently put it to us that they didn’t have any shrimp right now.  That would be fine, we ordered something else… 
After another minute we heard her speaking to nobody, answering her own questions, asking and answering…. realizing that she was again on the phone.  Not sure how all of that worked, but within minutes I had a pulled pork sandwich in front of me, with coleslaw on it- not a fan and was feeding Sage a greesey grilled cheese sandwich.  And again, not a vegetable in sight!  

Castine was very interesting….not sure that I’d go back, but thankful for the slow-pace and the experience of light-filled people and places.