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.
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