Yesterday was perfect. The high didn't reach 70 deegrees; the sun was out early. A few clouds were scattered across the sky. After a perfect mailboat ride to NEH, we grabbed a quick breakfast at the Mainsail and headed into the park. We were lucky enough to find a parking place in the Gorham lot and we headed up the mountain. As usual, the views changed from good to great to magnificent as we ascended. If I had been worried about whether I would be able to climb easily this year, that worry disappeared with this climb. In fact, it seemed easier and shorter than we both remembered. Before we knew it, we were at the top, having a light lunch and a glass of wine. Mountain climbing is always easier with wine. We were the envy of all the families at the top, since we had no dogs, no kids and WINE.
After more than an hour at the top, including thirty minutes or so picking huckleberries so I can make a pie tonight, we climbed back down and headed to the Hanneford's in Bar Harbor to pick up a few groceries. We made the mail boat with time to spare and arrived home to skies that had clouded over.
We walked up to Ann's around 6:15 to have dinner with the whole crowd--Ann's meatloaf, Michael's fried squash, steamed kale from Ann's garden, and baked sweet and white potatoes. And wine, of course, for everyone but me.
After dessert--Ann's hard gingerbread with fresh whipped cream--we moved into the other room for music. Phin played guitar and Tony played banjo and the rest of us sang, mostly old folk songs: O Mary Don't You Weep, Keep on the Sunny Side, By the Waters of Babylon, and others. We sang until a little after 10 and then finally dispersed. Phin and Tony went back to the boat house to get ready for the kids who came today. Michael and I walked home in the dark.
I was ready for bed, but Michael wasn't, so we started watching Moonstruck. Less than halfway through I decided that I was going to bed, so I left him sleeping on the couch. He came to bed eventually, and even though both of us awoke earlier, we stayed in bed until 10, when I got up and started breakfast. It had been pouring rain all morning, but by the time we wanted to head to Ann's to wash our clothes, the rain had stopped. Ann had a fire going when we arrived, and we've been sitting and chatting with whoever shows up ever since. Michael's gone back to the cottage to get the berries so I can make the pie for dinner. Jim will be making India food, and I'll provide dessert. It's not a pretty day, but it's a good one, as most days are on Islesford.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Lobstah, lobstah, lobstah
So last night we had lobster for dinner--again. How many times can you have it and eat it before you get tired of it? I don't know the answer to that question, but I'm willing to be a test subject. Nine lobsters for four people, nine lobsters pulled out of the ocean mere hours before we cooked them. Five were hard-shelled, and four were peelers, with a "soft shell" that still needed pressure to get into. The two that were not eaten last night will be chopped up into lobster rolls for a late lunch today.
Now back to yesterday's title: Bread and Wine. We brought 16 or 18 bottles with us from Maryland, and bought more in NH, so we have boxes of wine to move to the cottage where we're spending the next seven nights. Whatever is left will be hauled back to Ann's next weekend as we prepare to spend our last few days with her.
As for the bread, Ann asked Phin to bring back a couple of loaves when he returned to the island on Thursday. Michael also went off on Thursday, and brought back three different kinds of bread from the farmer's market. Ann made biscuits, so now we're inundated with bread.
Some would call it a sign; we should be having holy communion at some point, but we're convinced that whoever is out there has blessed us beyond measure already, and we always feel as if we're communing when we eat, so all is well.
After dinner last night, when the dishes were finally done around nine, the four of us walked down to the dock to look at the moon and the stars. Seeing how lovely it was then made me eager to see the full moon next Saturday night after the festival. Pray, whomever your target of prayer, for clear skies and enthusiastic but docile crowds at the festival. Pray no one--dog or human--mars anyone's lawn with excrement.
In case any of you are wondering what else one does on an island, we have a charity buoy sale this afternoon to benefit the library, a charity bird sale tomorrow afternoon to benefit the neighborhood house, a bake sale from 10-2 to benefit the church, a lecture about the mural that Maine's governor had removed from the state house, the town fair all day Monday, a town meeting Tuesday night, a movie Wednesday at the neighborhood house, and I'm not sure what else because I plan to be otherwise engaged hiking in the national park.
I need to stay longer just so I can get some relaxation in at some point. Temperature today at 2:25, 76.
Now back to yesterday's title: Bread and Wine. We brought 16 or 18 bottles with us from Maryland, and bought more in NH, so we have boxes of wine to move to the cottage where we're spending the next seven nights. Whatever is left will be hauled back to Ann's next weekend as we prepare to spend our last few days with her.
As for the bread, Ann asked Phin to bring back a couple of loaves when he returned to the island on Thursday. Michael also went off on Thursday, and brought back three different kinds of bread from the farmer's market. Ann made biscuits, so now we're inundated with bread.
Some would call it a sign; we should be having holy communion at some point, but we're convinced that whoever is out there has blessed us beyond measure already, and we always feel as if we're communing when we eat, so all is well.
After dinner last night, when the dishes were finally done around nine, the four of us walked down to the dock to look at the moon and the stars. Seeing how lovely it was then made me eager to see the full moon next Saturday night after the festival. Pray, whomever your target of prayer, for clear skies and enthusiastic but docile crowds at the festival. Pray no one--dog or human--mars anyone's lawn with excrement.
In case any of you are wondering what else one does on an island, we have a charity buoy sale this afternoon to benefit the library, a charity bird sale tomorrow afternoon to benefit the neighborhood house, a bake sale from 10-2 to benefit the church, a lecture about the mural that Maine's governor had removed from the state house, the town fair all day Monday, a town meeting Tuesday night, a movie Wednesday at the neighborhood house, and I'm not sure what else because I plan to be otherwise engaged hiking in the national park.
I need to stay longer just so I can get some relaxation in at some point. Temperature today at 2:25, 76.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Bread and Wine
So, last night's dinner was, like, pancakes and bacon and homemade peach ice cream. Like, we all were dozy and in bed by 10:30.
I don't know why I started that way, except that whenever I feel like starting a sentence with "So," I remind myself why I hate that when my students do it, yet we talk that way. Dilemma!
The fishing didn't happen because it rained, so Plan B went into effect. The funniest part was the making of the ice cream. The most important issue was having the freezer container in the freezer, and Ann had left it there since the last time we made ice cream up here, sometime in the fall, I think. We needed heavy cream, so I walked over to the store, but she had sold out of milk and cream for the day. Ann called her daughter Karen, who wasn't sure she had enough, but who suggested calling Dan at the Dock. Ann called and Dan said he had some, so she went down there and got it. I had already peeled and lightly sugared two large peaches, so as soon as she brought the cream I added milk, sugar, vanilla, and a drop of almond extract. Ann took the freezer container out, and then we went to get the rest of the ice cream maker.
Which was nowhere to be found. We looked in every cabinet large enough to hold it, in every cupboard where it ought to have been and where it would have been at any other time. The search was beginning to take on epic proportions, so I put the container back in the freezer. After searching for almost an hour, we realized that there would be no ice cream if we didn't move in another direction, so Ann called Karen again and asked if her machine was ready and available. We couldn't remember whether the ice cream makers were identical, so Karen decided to send freezer and all.Michael rode down on Jim's bicycle and came back riding with one hand, carrying a huge paper grocery sack in his arm. He said the gear missed during the ride and he almost wiped out, but he did manage to get it here. Karen sent a small jar with about a quarter cup of peach schnappes to add to the recipe. All was well; the ice cream was ready for the freezer in 25 minutes or so, and everyone loved it. So Karen saved the day again. Pickles for the tartar sauce on Monday, and an ice cream maker on Thursday. Well done, Karen!
Ann's son Mark will be delivering lobster this afternoon for our dinner tonight. Nine lobsters, a mix of hard shells and shedders, for the four of us. I'll make cole slaw, and that will be all we need. The rest is silence.
I don't know why I started that way, except that whenever I feel like starting a sentence with "So," I remind myself why I hate that when my students do it, yet we talk that way. Dilemma!
The fishing didn't happen because it rained, so Plan B went into effect. The funniest part was the making of the ice cream. The most important issue was having the freezer container in the freezer, and Ann had left it there since the last time we made ice cream up here, sometime in the fall, I think. We needed heavy cream, so I walked over to the store, but she had sold out of milk and cream for the day. Ann called her daughter Karen, who wasn't sure she had enough, but who suggested calling Dan at the Dock. Ann called and Dan said he had some, so she went down there and got it. I had already peeled and lightly sugared two large peaches, so as soon as she brought the cream I added milk, sugar, vanilla, and a drop of almond extract. Ann took the freezer container out, and then we went to get the rest of the ice cream maker.
Which was nowhere to be found. We looked in every cabinet large enough to hold it, in every cupboard where it ought to have been and where it would have been at any other time. The search was beginning to take on epic proportions, so I put the container back in the freezer. After searching for almost an hour, we realized that there would be no ice cream if we didn't move in another direction, so Ann called Karen again and asked if her machine was ready and available. We couldn't remember whether the ice cream makers were identical, so Karen decided to send freezer and all.Michael rode down on Jim's bicycle and came back riding with one hand, carrying a huge paper grocery sack in his arm. He said the gear missed during the ride and he almost wiped out, but he did manage to get it here. Karen sent a small jar with about a quarter cup of peach schnappes to add to the recipe. All was well; the ice cream was ready for the freezer in 25 minutes or so, and everyone loved it. So Karen saved the day again. Pickles for the tartar sauce on Monday, and an ice cream maker on Thursday. Well done, Karen!
Ann's son Mark will be delivering lobster this afternoon for our dinner tonight. Nine lobsters, a mix of hard shells and shedders, for the four of us. I'll make cole slaw, and that will be all we need. The rest is silence.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Life on an Artistic Island
Islesford is probably the most creative place I've ever been. The moment I step off the mailboat, I want to make something--write, Paint, crochet (what?!?), build a birdhouse--whatever. Today was the first session of our poetry workshop. Rick Benjamin, who teaches at Brown, vacations here and graciously conducts a workshop for 10-15 islanders and summer people several times a year. It's amazing what can come from the minds of people who are lobster fishermen, potters, housewives, and others. By the time two hours had passed, each of us had produced at least two pretty good poems. Mine are too personal to share in a blog; close friends will read them later. Suffice it to say, Rick knows how to give us poems and prompts that send us places we need to go to find the good stuff, often completely unexpectedly. We'll meet again tomorrow afternoon.
One would think that life on an island is quiet and boring, but there's little chance to become bored. There are meetings to attend, get-togethers to plan, and trips off-island to make. Grocery shopping can take either most of the day or one phone call, depending on what you want and how much you're willing to pay.
Michael decided to go off-island while I went to the poetry workshop, so he left on the 8:30 boat and won't be back til 2:30 or later. He was going to hit the Northeast Harbor farmer's market and then the grocery in Bar Harbor. The weather's been gray the past two days, so we're not inclined to go into the park. We might have to light a fire in the wood stove this afternoon if it cools off any more. The thermometer says 63 right now, at 12:45 in the afternoon.
Michael is going fishing around 4:00 for mackerel with a couple of the guys who are working at the Boatworks--Phin and Tony. If all goes well, we'll have a fish fry--more likely a fish broil--for supper. If not, Plan B is pancakes and bacon. Either will be followed by peach ice cream I'll be making this afternoon.
I'm trying to decide whether I should work on my syllabus this afternoon or just do crossword puzzles; I like having this time to myself. I've already finished one novel since I've been here--Kindred--and am looking around for another. I thought I had brought two, but apparently not. The library is pretty well stocked, so I'm sure I can find something to finish before we leave.
Time to make the ice cream!
One would think that life on an island is quiet and boring, but there's little chance to become bored. There are meetings to attend, get-togethers to plan, and trips off-island to make. Grocery shopping can take either most of the day or one phone call, depending on what you want and how much you're willing to pay.
Michael decided to go off-island while I went to the poetry workshop, so he left on the 8:30 boat and won't be back til 2:30 or later. He was going to hit the Northeast Harbor farmer's market and then the grocery in Bar Harbor. The weather's been gray the past two days, so we're not inclined to go into the park. We might have to light a fire in the wood stove this afternoon if it cools off any more. The thermometer says 63 right now, at 12:45 in the afternoon.
Michael is going fishing around 4:00 for mackerel with a couple of the guys who are working at the Boatworks--Phin and Tony. If all goes well, we'll have a fish fry--more likely a fish broil--for supper. If not, Plan B is pancakes and bacon. Either will be followed by peach ice cream I'll be making this afternoon.
I'm trying to decide whether I should work on my syllabus this afternoon or just do crossword puzzles; I like having this time to myself. I've already finished one novel since I've been here--Kindred--and am looking around for another. I thought I had brought two, but apparently not. The library is pretty well stocked, so I'm sure I can find something to finish before we leave.
Time to make the ice cream!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Dinners on Islesford
We arrived on the island and, as usual, started cooking. It seems almost unbelievable to me that just a few years ago my credo was, "I'm not on vacation unless someone cooks my food and makes my bed." Here, Michael and I do a lot of cooking. Oddly enough, I don't really mind it. Sometimes we cook in tandem, as we did last night: he did the ribs and the potato salad; I made the coleslaw and the apple pie. We had Finn and Tony from the boat works in addition to the four of us currently a part of Ann's household, and everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves.
Monday Michael and I went off-island to begin to acclimate ourselves to hiking in Acadia, and we did some grocery shopping as well. We picked up a 3.3-pound salmon fillet, which Michael broiled Monday night. I made fresh tartar sauce, and we sliced several of the tomatoes we brought with us from Maryland.
Wine is an important part of our meals here; we brought 16 bottles from home. We stopped at the New Hampshire Liquor Store and bought more, including four bottles of champagne. I am being very careful about how much I drink so I don't have an a-fib incident.
Today we sat at the bar in the Islesford Dock restaurant and introduced Ann to the Dark and Stormy. The kitchen is full as Ann, Michael and Jim try to fix spaghetti with fresh tomato and basil, steamed sugar snap peas, and a spinach salad. There's simply no room for me--sigh.
Life is good.
Monday Michael and I went off-island to begin to acclimate ourselves to hiking in Acadia, and we did some grocery shopping as well. We picked up a 3.3-pound salmon fillet, which Michael broiled Monday night. I made fresh tartar sauce, and we sliced several of the tomatoes we brought with us from Maryland.
Wine is an important part of our meals here; we brought 16 bottles from home. We stopped at the New Hampshire Liquor Store and bought more, including four bottles of champagne. I am being very careful about how much I drink so I don't have an a-fib incident.
Today we sat at the bar in the Islesford Dock restaurant and introduced Ann to the Dark and Stormy. The kitchen is full as Ann, Michael and Jim try to fix spaghetti with fresh tomato and basil, steamed sugar snap peas, and a spinach salad. There's simply no room for me--sigh.
Life is good.
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