Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.


Or, if you are looking at my garden:


In the beginning the garden was without form, and void; and brown-ness was upon the face of everything.


Springtime in Maine. It takes so very long to arrive. It is discouraging to some. To gardeners, it just means the anticipation builds to a fever, where every tiny bit of green is heralded with hysteria.


This blog is the official “Before” series of photos. As the season progresses, I will update you with photos of plants emerging, blossoms opening, and a whole lot of hysteria happening. (Something to look forward to, yes?) Here we go:


This is a view of my garden, taken from the back deck. Brown, brown, everywhere. For now. Coming soon: the blues of hyssop and delphinium, the purples and pinks of poppies, multi-colored roses, lavender, Asiatic lilies, liatris, butterfly weed, and more.




These are two of my raised beds. The soil level has dropped over the last few years. There’s a layer of chopped leaves on top, and I will be adding some compost to that, but I also plan to buy some topsoil and dress the top of the four beds. These raised beds are for vegetables. This year: zephyr summer squash, sun gold tomatoes, kale, chard, and lettuce.




There is an area of the garden that used to be a tractor path to the lower level of a barn. Two walls of the foundation remain, and the path is mostly intact, but the rest has fallen prey to sumac trees (Husband calls them Devil Trees, because you cannot kill them), and tall weeds. I call this area the Trash Garden, but this year, I will be planting a baptisia and approximately 80 borage seedlings. It will be blue, it will be beautiful, and it will be filled with bees.




I am currently enrolled in Bee School, thinking ahead to 2019. If I decide to set up a hive, it will go here:




In-between my structured garden and the raised bed garden is Wildflower Alley. Actually, it’s Weed Alley, but I have aspirations. Here is where buttercups currently emerge, and I actually plan to leave them right there. They are lovely and bloom a good long time:




Here is the main area of Weed Alley:




Here is a garden my daughter planted last year. Mostly annuals. I’m pulling them out and planting wild bergamot this year:




Here is the entrance to Weed Alley, which currently has 5 mint plants and a few lupines in place. Planned additions: rue, lemon balm, and an extension of the herb garden, with Siberian chives, Good King Henry, basil, parsley, and dill.




This is a view of our orchard, currently under assault by brown tail moths. An arborist is coming in a few weeks to eradicate the nests. I will document this.




This is the Studio Garden, right outside of Husband’s teaching studio. I’ve since taken down the dead stalks, opening the space for the planted blue globe echinops, wild bergamot, lupines, and phlox to come back.




And this is the driveway edition of the Studio Garden, underneath the gallery windows. Coming soon: columbine, astilbe, and ferns.




This is only the beginning. Every week I hope to share photos that are much more interesting to look at! There will be a lot going on out there this year. And even though the hysteria that signals the approach of spring is consuming me now, I’m also feeling the solace that my garden brings.


Reaching for my overalls and feeling happy.

Read Full Post »

This President’s weekend didn’t find me entertaining/hiding from vacationing college students or high school students. I was not elbow-deep in spackle from the winter home reno project. (I should have been, but I wasn’t.) Instead, I found myself with no necessary tasks on the Sunday of President’s weekend, and so I minced across the ice-skating rink formerly known as Driveway, got into the car with imprudently dressed Husband (sneakers for the snow and ice?), and we drove to South Bristol.

Every Sunday of President’s Weekend, the Thompson Ice house has its annual ice harvesting. The ice on the pond is cut into blocks of ice 12” thick, about 2×3’, and according to one of the men pushing the blocks up a ramp, about 250-300 pounds. As the event begins at 9 a.m. and ends at 4, I suspect that the ice blocks weigh 250 pounds in the morning, and weigh 300+ pounds at the end of the day! The ice is stacked into the ice house, with sawdust and hay above and below, “to the depth of a tyne.”

This was a commercial enterprise from 1826 until 1985. The building was deemed unsafe, but rather than sell the business on the open market, the house, property, pond, and dam were designated as a museum to preserve traditional ice harvesting. And visitors every year are grateful for this gift.

We arrived late morning, on one of those spectacular Maine days, when the white snow and blue sky compete for attention:


Here is the scene that greeted us: a motorized saw cutting grid lines into the ice, recently freed rectangles of ice floating free, and delighted visitors.


One of the young ones trying his hand at manually sawing the ice into blocks:


The grid lines are precise:


A close-up of a floating block of ice:


And of the floating rectangles:


The first area of the pond to be carved into ice is the chute that leads to the ramp that leads to the ice house. Lining the chute are happy volunteers, mostly the kids, who man the long tools to encourage the blocks to float towards the ramp:


When the ice blocks touch the ramp, they are guided onto a simple wooden frame that guides them up out of the water and onto the ramp:


The block moves up the ramp until the floor of the ramp drops away,


and the block tips forward and down, and slides into the ice house:


There is a gang of young men in cleated boots that greet the ice block with loud oofs and hollers, and they guide the block into its new home. When the day ends, the ice house will be filled to the rafters with enormous blocks of ice.

Then what? The ice is sold by the block or chipped, and a good bit of it supplies an ice cream party for the community in July. Good deal!


There was a small shed with a movie playing that described the history of the ice house, Thompson Ice House coffee mugs and sweatshirts were for sale, as were hot dogs and baked beans. I opted for the beans, and held the hot cup of amazingly sugary beans in my hands … I watched the ice chips fly into the air, listened to the dropped “r’s” of my neighbahs, and appreciated where I live.



“Maine is a joy in the summer. But the soul of Maine is more apparent in the winter.”

Paul Theroux, American novelist (1941- )

Read Full Post »

Oh, my heart. What a long, long 12 weeks it has been, with only the seed catalogs to cool the fever. I can finally start seeds now without feeling foolish. I have started two varieties of seeds in my office, and I am prepping the greenhouse to receive the first seed trays of the season on March 5. That tick-tick-tick you hear is not a clock. It’s my heart, ticking away all of the non-gardening moments in my life.

One positive accomplishment this winter was deciding on a name for my garden. I won’t erect a plaque or a signpost. But I will know my garden’s name in my heart, and because you are reading this post, you will know as well. My garden is “Solace.”

So, welcome! Welcome to my place of quiet, of blossoms and weeds, birdsong, bees, some food plants, all connected with winding paths and lots and lots of Maine rocks.

Let me share a few things: First, a few pages from my garden journal, my inelegant heap of scribbles, plans, and drawings. You’ll see designs for a formal herb garden that won’t be built until 2018, earliest, lists of what I want to plant this year, and where. Cross-outs.  Pages x’d out with an elegant “Nope!” in the margin. And lists. There will always be lists. In order, please find Research, Resources, and Who Goes Where:





My garden is enormous and growing. My age is growing too. So my annual goal is to plant more perennials.  🙂  This year, my garden will see the first appearance of perennials I planted late last fall: 3 kinds of decorative alliums, 3 kinds of decorative grasses, and a summersweet bush.

This year the Perennial Roster includes purchased plants and purchased seeds. They are:

Plants: butterfly weed, cardinal flower, liatris

Purchased Seeds: hollyhocks, butterfly weed (Hedging my bets. If the plants don’t take, hopefully the seeds will!)

My potting bench is actually in my office — it’s where I work during the long Maine winters. Husband built it for me, and it is made even more beautiful by items made by friends, and little plastic farm animals (love the piglets, especially):


Here is a photo of the first two seed varieties I started in my office, verbena bonariensis and butterfly weed:



I have a large rocky area between two cultivated areas in my garden. There are some lupines there, but mostly that space grows cranky grass plants and rocks. I call it “Weed Alley.” But I have plans for this space, and am working to change its name to “Wildflower Alley.” So the Perennial Roster also includes:

Harvested Seeds: teasel, wild monarda, queen Anne’s lace, lupine, milkweed, asters, blue globe echinops, echinacea (2 varieties), rudbeckia (2 varieties)

Annuals are the instant-gratification of gardening. These ephemeral beauties are also workhorses. They only get one shot at producing next year’s players, and so they are quick to germinate, quick to flower, and hardy as all get-out. I love them.

The Annual Seeds are:

Flowers: celosia (2 varieties), verbena, zinnia (2 varieties), tithonia, sweet Annie, fennel (2 varieties), mammoth dill (for looks)

Food: 5 varieties of squash, 2 varieties of pole beans, 5 varieties of lettuce, 3 varieties of so-trendy micro-greens, parsley, basil, dill (for eating), kale, broccoli, tomatoes

I bought my seeds from three sources this year. Because seeds are my favorite part of gardening, and because I think the packets are lovely, I’m sharing sample packets with you:




It is so irritating to have to wait. All of our Survive-the-Maine-Winter-by-Doing-Home-Reno-Projects are wearing on me. I’m done with drop cloths. I want to be outside.

I hold on to March 5: the day I put seed trays out in the greenhouse. Remember that. March 5. March 5.

I’m coming for you.

Read Full Post »

Weigh-Off day dawned overcast and damp, and it didn’t matter a bit. The volunteer pumpkin growers filled the area quickly, the tent was buzzing with trophies, paperwork, Pumpkinfest swag-for-sale, and the monitors that would display the pumpkins’ weights, and the forklifts were at the ready.

Myrtle waited patiently, resting on her green tarp that we used to lift her into MH’s trailer.



The trophies waited patiently:



The scales waited patiently:



Some late arrivals came in pickups, and we were treated to the first view of the harnesses that would be used all morning long to lift the monsters.



This event was run beautifully. I know, I seem to say that about every Maine event I attend (like the Common Ground Fair), but it’s true – these folks know what they’re doing. The event was conducted with professionalism, speed, and a flair for entertainment value.

And so it began. Bill Clark, of Clark Farms, was the Emcee, the Master of Ceremonies, the Guy with the Mic.



The forklifts started their ballet, moving one pumpkin on its pallet near to a scale, while the second forklift hoisted a just-weighed pumpkin off the other scale to be moved to the waiting area.

The forklifts started with the smallest pumpkins first, so that the anticipation of the Big Winner could build. (See what I mean about entertainment value?!)   And the smaller pumpkins were harnessed and lifted by hand onto the scales to be weighed.




There was a Youth Division, and an Adult Division in this Volunteer Grower Weigh-Off. While I’m sure many of the kids had adult help in growing their pumpkins, they had clearly assumed ownership of the pumpkins, and their delight was palpable.



MH, and all of Team Myrtle, was proud to see that Myrtle was the first of the pumpkins too big to be lifted by hand. The loops on her harness were slipped over the tines of the forklift, and she was lifted by machine from her pallet to the scale

Here is a photo of proud MH the Grower:



As the day progressed, and the pumpkins increased in weight, the forklifts exited and the green tractor appeared. The winner of the day had a monster fruit, weighing in at 1,711.5 pounds.



Fun fact: White pumpkins tend to weigh more than the orange pumpkins….hmm, something to remember for next year when selecting a seedling!

It was a wonderful day. And the news about how Myrtle would participate in the Pumpkinfest was another happy surprise: Myrtle will not be carved or painted for display in the town. No, this girl is going sailing in the river! She will become a boat in the Regatta on Sunday!

We are all looking forward to seeing whether Myrtle becomes a paddleboat or a motorboat, and just how sea-worthy she is! Stay tuned….

Read Full Post »

Harvesting – it is always bittersweet. One moment a fruit you nurtured throughout its life is vibrant and still connected to the Earth. Taking in water and nutrients. Growing.  And the next moment, its lifeline is cut, the vine is severed, and so begins another phase of its existence, and for plants, this means the beginning of its demise.

All of this make me a bit weepy: Children going off to kindergarten, a daughter or son driving away to their first apartment, a pumpkin going to get weighed.

This post will be long on photos and short on captions and commentary. There is so much to show, and as tomorrow is the big Weigh-Off, another post is in the Offing, as it were. I will tell you what’s going on, briefly, and let the photos mostly speak for themselves!

MH the Grower, wife Kathleen, and Two Lifters of Heavy (sounds better than Two Heavy Lifters. I guess I’m sensitive after months of being consumed with Myrtle’s weight.), were due at high noon today. MacKenzie waited.


As did Myrtle.


MH the Grower had it all planned.  A trailer hitched to his truck. Inside, a pallet, or “skid” with a large piece of pink foam insulation board for Myrtle to rest upon, and a large piece of foam to cushion her on the ride from my garden to Pinkham’s Plantation and Garden Nursery.


The plan was to roll the trailer as close as possible to Myrtle, lift her in, and hitch the trailer to the truck.  But one question needed to be answered.  Once Myrtle was loaded into the trailer, would those present be strong enough to roll the trailer out of the garden and close enough to the truck to be hitched?

MH decided there was only one way to find out: Place several humans in the trailer and see if MH and my Husband were still able to roll the trailer.  I suppose I, MH’s wife, and my daughter could have been mightily offended at being regarded as “just weight”, but because it took three of US to weigh one Myrtle, it seemed acceptable. We participated with good cheer:


The trailer was rolled in:


We moved Mac away:


The trailer was moved into position:


And rocks were placed under the hitch to balance against Myrtle’s great weight.


It was time.  MH used his knife to cut the vine 10 feet away from Myrtle’s stem.  This would allow her to continue to drink water overnight before the weigh-in.  My job, when it came to actually lifting her, would be to keep the vine in position so that it didn’t snap off.  MH also snipped off a few straggling vines to avoid the main vine being compromised or tugged in any way.  A few photos to show this:





The tarp was put into t position.  The idea was to roll the tarp up against one side of Myrtle, roll her onto it, pull the tarp through to the other side of her, and roll her back.  I held the vine, hoping I could keep it intact.



MH, my Husband and the Lifters of Heavy rolled Myrtle from side to side, maneuvering the tarp under her. Kathleen volunteered to support the leveling rocks at the other end of the trailer.









I wish you could have heard the audio of that effort.  The puffing, the groans, were earned.  That pumpkin was So Heavy.

And after that enormous effort, the crew posed:


I was happy to hold the vine, reluctant to relinquish it:


And the tiny little blue pad that had so bravely protected Growing Myrtle from the damp earth was now alone, with no job, no crushing weight above its head.  I think I heard a tiny little sigh of relief.


And Myrtle was safely in the trailer.  Time to go to Pinkham’s!


The road was smooth, and MH, my daughter, Myrtle and I arrived a Pinkham’s one day before the official weigh-off.  MH guessed correctly that the Nursery men would be grateful to have some of the entries arrive early.  Apparently, tomorrow morning will be quite chaotic.  Here is Myrtle as she arrived, foam cushion in place:


A few earlier arrivals greeted us:


MH took the enormous jug was water and alfalfa “tea” that Myrtle will sip overnight to keep her strength, and her weight, up:


As we waited for the forklift, I noticed the sponsor’s sign (Sysco, a food corporation) on a tent — inside, the scales, tables, equipment and furniture for tomorrow’s event:


And here came the forklift:


The next photos show the forklift picking Myrtle up and moving her into place, next to the Earlier Bird pumpkins:







And just like your second-grade class photo, with all those happy youngsters lined up for the camera, Myrtle was in place:


MH the Grower and Bill Clark, of Clark’s Farm (co-producer of Pumpkinfest along with Pinkham’s) chatted about cantelope “webbing” on pumpkins, shape and genetics, and other pumpkin-pertinent points:


It was time for Myrtle to be labeled.  I wish I could say she was graced with a silver plaque,but it was really just gray duct tape.



And so this Harvest Day ended.  Myrtle was in place, and the pallets for tomorrow’s arrivals were stacked and ready.


My daughter and I will join MH and his family at Pinkham’s tomorrow at 10 for the Volunteer Grower Weigh-Off.

Any bets of Myrtle’s final weight?  My husband and I independently came up with 403 pounds and 402 pounds, respectively.  From our lips to the Great Pumpkin’s ears.

I will report.  Stay tuned.


“In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.”

— William Blake, English poet (1757 – 1827)



“Clark Farms is family owned and operated. We provide fresh fruits and vegetables grown in Jefferson, as well as local eggs, jams, jellies, pickles and award winning pies.”

Pinkham Plantation: “Our local nursery in Damariscotta, Maine has the gardening products and, sometimes more importantly, the growing advice you need to develop and maintain a lush, fruitful landscape. We’re familiar with the local Maine soil conditions and growing challenges and offer solutions to help you grow the best garden possible.”


Read Full Post »

Pumpkinfest #9: Closing In

Tick, tick, tick, says the clock. Myrtle is in her final days of packing on the pounds.

MH the Grower, and lowly (literally) assistant me, measured and estimated her weight for the last unofficial time. The next time Myrtle is weighed it will be on the official scale of the Weigh-Off at Pinkham’s Nursery on Saturday, October 1st.

MH came over to visit the big girl (the PUMPKIN, ahem), and measure her:



I helped:



Enough suspense! Her estimated weight was 343 pounds!

Since that day, the overnight temperatures have yielded light frost on two nights, and Myrtle’s UV-shielding umbrella was exchanged for a thick Mover’s quilt.

I am expecting MH, two heavy lifters from his lab, and a gaggle of onlookers on Friday to separate Myrtle from the earth, lift her into a cushioned trailer, and drive her off to the next phase of her life.

And of course, the entire weigh-off will be photographed and shared, as will Myrtle’s official weight. In the meantime, I will appreciate my final days with this youngster in my garden. Life is all about moving on, isn’t it? I’m tearing-up already.


Dear Great Pumpkin,
I am looking forward to your arrival on Halloween night. I hope you will bring me lots of presents.
Everyone tells me you are a fake, but I believe in you.
Linus Van Pelt

P.S. If you really are a fake, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.


“The official Great Pumpkin Commonwealth (GPC) weigh-off is the State of Maine’s largest weigh-off, featuring the jaw-dropping TOTAL PURSE OF $10,000, is sponsored by Damariscotta Pumpkinfest & Regatta™!
Sponsor: Sysco – Northern New England
The official Weigh-off, sanctioned by the Great Pumpkin Commonwealth (GPC), is open to all growers, whether adults or children (between 8 and 16 years old).
Volunteer growers may chose to enter their pumpkins in EITHER the $10,000 official GPC weigh-off, OR the Volunteer Growers weigh-off (which is held the prior day), if they prefer.
Pumpkin drop-off for the GPC-sanctioned weigh-off is between the hours of 7 a.m. and 10 a.m. and the weigh-off begins promptly at 10 a.m.
An official Damariscotta Pumpkinfest™ Weigh-Off Entry Form must accompany each pumpkin. View Official Rules.
In addition, each pumpkin must be accompanied by a Grower Information Sheet in order to provide interesting background & growing details.
The top 3 prize-winning pumpkins in the official GPC Weigh-off must remain on-site for display in Damariscotta during the duration of Damariscotta Pumpkinfest™.”


Read Full Post »

Vinalhaven: A Love Letter

Husband and I celebrated our 30th anniversary by spending 30 hours on the island of Vinalhaven. That might seem a poor return, one hour for each year, but one reason we’ve been together for 30 years is our shared enthusiasm for modest moments and for adventure. Vinalhaven was as charming as any modest adventurer could want. All good.

We sailed out of Rockland on a sturdy ferry, and after an hour and 15 minutes, arrived in Vinalhaven. The two towns were explained thoroughly by their harbors. Rockland was filled with elegant sailboats and yachts:



Vinalhaven’s harbor was filled with lobster boats. We had arrived at a place where hard work is done:



Vinalhaven is home to artist Robert Indiana (of “LOVE” logo fame), and one (count it) AirBnB rental where we spent the night. There were three very nice restaurants in the town, and because it was post-Labor Day (by 1 day), every single one of them was closed. Yes, I had made a reservation at one, but it was cancelled at the last minute due to the chef becoming ill, and our only option (as our rental did not have a kitchen) was to go to the local bar. As our host put it, “You’ll get some local color!” No kidding. Not the much-anticipated elegant dinner out I was dreaming of, but again, we’d made it 30 years by rolling with all of the dips and dives Life throws at us, so it seemed appropriate to start the next 30 by rolling once again.

You’ll see from the text in ”Appreciating” that the population of Vinalhaven island is small. The town itself is even smaller, and there are so many ways to define “small town” when talking about a place to live and work. The dictionary says the term “small town” can mean “of or concerning the regions outside the capital city of a country, especially when regarded as unsophisticated or narrow-minded.”

I accept that definition, but I don’t like it much. Thornton Wilder’s small town was a place where people showed every side of their humanity, and everyone was the better for it. I like that better. It also seems to apply to Vinalhaven, based on my vast experience of 30 hours.

I loved the beauty of the island, taking two lovely hikes to see water, woods, and birds, and I loved the Humanity of the small town as demonstrated by posted signs and by items in the local newspaper. I will share these with you, as I believe they will best explain why we enjoyed our 30 hours there so very much, and why we plan to go back – this time with a car! If we’d honeymooned there, I wouldn’t have blinked at carrying a backpack for two days, but remember, my back is now 30 years older, and I have learned to appreciate the value of a car seat and a pack-free back.

Here we go. First up, SIGNS.



There were lovely scenes to photograph on the island and I took several. Husband, who was taking photos for future paintings, took over 450. (One reason our budget and consequently our marriage has lasted 30 years is the invention of the digital camera.)





And now for copy from “The Wind”, the local paper that is published weekly. It offers a glimpse into Island life – the lingo, the cherished events, the hazards, and the ridiculous moments that a close community shares.

First, Vinalhaven residents are not immune to the hazards posed by careless drivers. Here is an apology, and a plea that made me sad:

“LAWN SALES: Sorry for canceling earlier lawn sales. I was rear-ended on the Philbrook as I exited my truck, hurting my back and smashing my bumper a couple of weeks ago.”

“Please tell me who hit my white Cadillac on the 18th, 1st boat leaving Rockland. A black SUV was seen on camera. It’s my only car for the rest of my life. Please call…”


Insider Tip: On Vinalhaven, the flea market is called “the Flea.” And apparently you have to go there yourself to see who is selling. Great marketing ploy! “Who’s selling? You have to find out for yourself!”:

“FLEA MARKET: Some of us will be at the Flea this Saturday…”


No community is immune from “That Guy.” The guy that takes advantage, acts badly, and explains it away with a smile:

“OBSERVER: A wonderful pair of long time seasonal residents graciously hosts a little gathering for friends each Labor Day as an expression of their appreciation for this place….One thing or another interfered with my being able to arrive in time to enjoy the happy hour but I did pull in just in time to hear the invitation to lunch and so —I’m aggressive when I’m hungry – headed directly to the buffet, first in line in front of others who had waited patiently for the invitation to partake. Having settled in with a plate piled high, I was prepared to enjoy it and the company of others for a while but then my watch alarm went off reminding me that I was to meet the ferry in ten minutes and so I wolfed down lunch and bolted. I do want to be invited back next year and so this note of explanation and appreciation.”


Vinalhaven is populated by humans, who as a species are known to make threats, including those that could be described as holding a gun to your head:

“7 Guns in 7 Days” Raffle to benefit the Vinalhaven Veterans Memorial Fund: Unless we sell 300 tickets by September 15th, we will be forced to end this raffle…”


This one is both thoughtful and ridiculous:

“!!! A PRODUCT RECALL !!! : Because of a proofing error, 2017 ICMS calendars are being replaced and reissued. (Days and dates for June, 2017 are out of sync, and we can’t have brides and grooms showing up on the wrong day).”


When you do business on a small island, every customer counts. Hence this Above-and-Beyond offer from a popular restaurant to provide passage across a natural barrier:

“NEBO LODGE: Need a ride from VH? We can help. Call us for dinner reservations and we will gladly arrange a round-trip ride across the Thoroughfare for you.”


A perfect pun for a community surrounded by salt water:

“BENEFIT DANCE…Featuring the “Six Foot Swells”


A candid moment from one innkeeper, and an incident worthy of a movie. Also, I love the idea that the local nuisance wildlife includes minks. You can’t make this stuff up:

“THE OBSERVER: …As many have pointed out, I am not quite as focused as I once was. Thus it was that a recent prospective guest received a confusing and somewhat troubling e mail confirmation and called for an explanation. It seems my note to the cleaning crew, asking that they clean up a distressing mess lift by a mink that had snuck in to a room through an open deck door, instead became an e mail confirming a reservation for later in the summer. The e mail read “We look forward to seeing you…Please clean up the little pile of waste just inside the deck door before you do anything else.”


Vinalhaven folks are honest:

“Mooring Money: Someone has a ‘rental’ mooring abreast the Evelyn J. It’s been used for a couple of days but there is no indication of where rental $ should be left or sent so we collected what we thought was fair and have it at the Tidewater.”


And, hands down, this is my favorite entry. This was a long list of thank-yous to the locals for helping out at a wedding, but I’ve included my two “bests”. I love a place so small and modest that only two music stands made a genuine difference, and….who is this OTHER guy?!

“The Evans family at Roberts Harbor wish to thank all who helped make the wedding of Jane…and Adam…a special day…The Union Church which loaned two music stands. To the bearded man who guided out-of-towners to the wedding at Charlotte’s field…”


Vinalhaven: The island were people work, pitch-in, offer, and ask. The island populated by fishermen, musicians, and mysterious bearded men. The island where minks leave messes, and local color is a good thing.

We’re going back.



“Lake Wobegon, the little town that time forgot and the decades cannot improve.”

— Garrison Keillor, American author, storyteller, humorist (1942- )



“Vinalhaven Island lies twelve miles off the coast of Maine, and is the state’s largest off-shore community. It is known for its striking natural beauty and for being home to one of the world’s largest lobster fishing fleets. We have a year-round population of about 1200 people, and welcome many more from around the world in the summer months…. Lobster fishing and related support activities make up roughly half of the island’s economy; in addition to commercial fishermen and women, we are builders, musicians, plumbers, teachers, shopkeepers, electricians, innkeepers, artists, writers, mechanics, realtors, restauranteurs, boat builders, ferry captains, architects, administrators, conservationists, and more.



Read Full Post »

Older Posts »