march, marCH, MARCH!!!

gay march 095 At first I wasn’t sure how to feel about this Equality March in DC. I’ve done quite of few protests for various causes including Gay Rights, Women’s Rights, Lesbian Rights, Reproductive Rights, AIDS/HIV Health, blah, blah, blah… I’ve gotten a little apathetic, a little cynical, a little out of shape. My Marching muscles (both physical and mental) needed a boot camp or at least a pep rally.

Walking through DuPont Circle district on Saturday was it. Not because we walked for about a gazillion miles nor because the streets were strewn with rainbow flags or because my gaydar was beeping non-stop. The shot in my arm was that is was none of this. The shot in the arm was the normalness of the scene. The streets were filled with tourist, window shoppers, and friends laughing at cafe tables. You had to look closer to see that it was a predominantly gay crowd. This is what normal life looks like for all of us, gay or straight. We have come so far…

The next day at the March it was very much the same. Oh there were signs, and chants, and cheers for all the colorful queers… but for the most part gone were the Drag Queens, gone were Chap clad boy toys, and the radical spike dykes beating drums from previous Marches. We didn’t need those to get noticed. We are not just a fringe community with a few that feel brave enough to show our faces… we are mainstream! We are your neighbors, your bank teller, your grocer’, your pharmacist, and postal workers, all marching without the fear. We are the baby boomer survivors refusing to give up struggle… and we are the students that have picked up the torch and assumed the struggle.

One neo-nuclear family mom pushing a stroller said to me that she was marching in hopes that “her daughter would not inherit the struggle.”

The signs over head say it many ways but the message was singular. EQUALITY… EQUALITY… EQUALITY…!

And if a picture is worth a thousand words… here are a whole bunch for you. click here for my slideshow or click here for individual photos

Peace, Luv, and Equality for All, barbie

Drive By Fall



Fall arrives early in New England. As we readied for our departure from Mt Desert Isle, fall showed up. It’s like the curtain went up for the third act and the scenery change was a shock. It should not have been… if the soggy first act “Spring”had not been foreboding enough, then surely the every so brief appearance of Summer in the second should have been all the warning we needed. But not us, our oblivion we complete as we were too swept up with the story to notice the back drop. So here we are, with (for now) the best seat in the house/country and the pictures to prove it… albeit from the rig and its balcony view.


Enjoy.

PS. The encore of pictures is Portland, Maine which we found to be an amusing town as well as the home of Longfellow.


Peace, Luv, and Crimson Colors, barbie

Exploring more of Acadia: Schoodic Point

schoodic point 010-1 Schoodic Point is part of the Acadia National Park… probably 10 min’s by boat 40 min’s by car. I’ve have pretty much ignored it thus far. There has definitely been enough to keep my attention here on the “mainland” of Acadia.

Which is what I heard a Ranger call it… which makes no sense since the “mainland” is an island where the bulk of the donated Acadia lands are concentrated. The remainder of what is not the “mainland of Acadia” or the islands of Acadia is actually on the mainland… primarily on Schoodic peninsula and a few islands dotted off the coast. Confusing I know.. anyway…

My bro-in-law gave me a book, (which until now) I had forgotten about. Now I am curious to unwrap some of the history that makes the Schoodic peninsula unique. Of course the day we tooled down the Schoodic – The National Scenic Byway, it was pretty much fogged in. I am beginning to think that the fog is a plot... a master Mainer plot to limit the tourist from the outer reaches, thus keeping it protected and safe. The misty Sheppard herds the masses back to Bar Harbor where they are fed lobster rolls and sold Down east trinkets and t- shirts. Only the persistent traveler (and those with days to wait) are rewarded for their patience with glimpses of her coastline. Today was now our day.

But I am not one to be deterred… I find other things to look at. What ended up catching my attention were a few old edifices and some mid-century signage. Route 1 from Hancock, Sullivan and all the various Gouldsboro kept my attention… making mental notes of places to stop for photos on the return trip. Prior to entering the official Acadia Park, we passed thru the town of Winter Harbor. Once a hob-knobby spot now a well worn working harbor and front porch artisans. Our intention was to stop for lunch as either Chase’s or the Fisherman’s Inn (both recommended by a local) but the fried fare was not what we were looking for and mostly what they were serving.

We moved on to the one-way park loop of Schoodic. It was serene and peaceful although limited in the scenic scope as I mentioned earlier, we enjoyed it none the less. We also found a small primitive campground that is limited to single overnights that would be a tenter’s paradise. Each of the 10 sites has a well banked campfire pit overlooking the bay, no electricity. The parking, fresh water, and the flushing commodes are far enough away to keep it quiet.

The remainder of the loop road ribbons its way the length of the coast with a watery view popping out of the mist occasionally… very occasionally. We found ourselves heading back up the other side of the peninsula and Prospect Harbor. Once again limited for desirable food options, we pressed onward to Route 1 for the return trip. Lucky for us, one of the mental notes Ruth had made was a Mexican Restaurant in a log cabin on Rt 1.

(It is interesting to observe that Ruth’s mental notes almost always encompass food or golf while mine often focus on architecture and wildlife… all in all, a find complement to one another I would think… although hers are much handier)

Happily we found it and it was called “The Mexican Restaurant” (go figure) run by an Honduran woman. The food was excellent and had a few Central America influences for those that are a bit adventurous such as: Honduran Tamale with fish and peas in banana leaves and Hurachita a rice based drink that was pleasant but a bit too sweet. In the end our main entrée was a quesadilla of chicken and cheese accompanied by beans and rice… all very yummy!

The remainder of our outing was filled with retracing our steps to capture previously noted photo opts golf course called Bonnie Blink. All in all a good day.

Photos:http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=PLUtcUJodOv2KyD0oOgdA&_=1

Peace, Luv, and New England Tamales,  barbie




Maine Show Off Its Beauty




It was one beautiful day upon Pedro and Mel’s arrival. They could not have picked a better day to arrive on the island. Low 80’s, sunshine, slight breeze… just Beautiful!
They had to take it all in quick cuz around here just as suddenly as summer arrives… it can slips away. Kinda like slipping away in the night Like the Van Trapps’ pushing the car down the driveway to escape over the Alps… Headlights pierce the chilly night… the gastopo (Pedro) was here to stopo summer from disappearing before we could get a good week of gallivant among the floral/fauna and then it was “So Long, Farewell, Aufwiedersehn, Adeiu”

Well before the leaves fall, I should say a few words about their visit. Insanely busy! Pretty much from the moment they arrived until the frantic moment they left… and that is another crazy story… but I digress. I’ll get back to that later.

These two were hiking fools. Not that I blame them… there are so many great hikes of all levels in Acadia that this truly in a hiker’s paradise. They started with the dome of Cadillac Mt the afternoon they got here, Jordan’s Pond Loop the next day, then a non-specific carriage trail (they have no idea where they where… just happy to find the car), followed by the Sand Beach stretch and up Gorham Mountain, and finished with a morning climb to the Beach/Canadian Cliffs. That’s 5 out of 6 days. Not to mention they golfed twice, toured Acadia by car, a carriage ride, a lighthouse tour via the water ways, dinner and lunch in Bar Harbor, ample shopping, a few campfires, a cribbage tournament, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree! I don’t think I wouldn’t have to try very hard to get the twelve days of Xmas… Oh that might be scarey… the twelve days of Pedro? No, I won’t go there.
I saved the best for last of course… There could be no visit without at least one calamity… we are talking Carlette here! The morning of their departure, we are buzzing around the rig having a leisurely breakfast of banana nut pancakes and Vermont syrup while the girls are packing and showering. It was a buzz but a slow buzz. Plenty of time… Carlette asks Ruth to check on her plane to see if it is on time etc… When Ruth notices that the time was about 30 minutes earlier than what Carlette has been saying all week. Suddenly our pace went from la te da to a frantic get in the fr@%king car pace!
To make matters worse, there is heavy construction on the first half of the 44 miles to the airport. I am driving as fast as I dare, with Carlette asking me to floor it. I am making senseless conversation… anything to get Carlette’s brain on a different track. All while I was trying not to kill the little construction dudes with the flippin’ slow signs on the side of the road. In the end, a ride that should have taken us 60 minutes lasted 90… actually 89. Pedro leaps from the car and runs in to “check in” with literally one minute to spare. We arrived at 12:44 for a 1:15 flight. Way too close!. As they are whisked away to board the plane I waved a fond “So Long, Farewell, Aufwiedersehn, Adieu".
So there you have it… summer and Pedro arrived in their own good time, scurried around for a while, and without a moments to spare disappeared.
Soon we to will migrate, but not until the leaves start to burst with color… Alas, that is another blog and until then…


For a better look at the photos and captions click here: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=pJmofCEp44u3FcjvL31cd&_=1


Peace, luv, and mountain trails, barbie

Who's Who on the Rock



There have been a few famous people that have lived or I should say “summered” on the island over the years. Rockefellers, Fords, JP Morgan, the Vanderbilts, Astor’s, President Taft, L.L.Bean, John Travolta, E.B White, Dan Folgelberg, and currently the reigning queen of all “Good Things, Martha Stewart. She is the topic of much fodder here on the island… that is… fonder among the not so rich and not so famous DownEast locals.
  • But only when pressed, most often they would prefer to ignore her existence all together, just as they have other celebrities throughout the centuries. (Mainers as I may have mentioned before are quite tight lipped.)

  • It amazes me that Mainers think nothing of strolling through one of the premier National Parks created by their land donations without once letting a notable name pass their lips. Unless perhaps, if a helicopter should fly a wee bit low over a certain seal swimming harbor in route to the jetport. Then perhaps you might hear, “Mable said her ankle bracelet keeps her limited to the old cottage”

  • Translation: At least Martha keeps her ass on the estate and doesn’t wonder through the park anymore.

  • Mainer’s will also staunchly defend tradition... even when it makes no sense.

  • For example: Mable’s family has been employed at the “cottage” and its adjoining acreage for generations. Once owned by the Fords, each fall Uncle Cliff shovels the pink granite gravel from the carriage way and stores it in the garage for the winter. This may sound ludicrous or at least a typical sample of Martha’s vulgar opulence. Not so says Mable, storing the driveway in garage has been done forever… not shoveling it would be ludicrous.

  • But that’s not what I intended to talk about in this blog. It was the architecture… more specifically the architecture of the afore mentioned rich and famous. We took a tour of the Lighthouses surrounding the island but I was way more interested in the cottages... a euphemism for mansions. I loved how each home is strategically hidden from view from anywhere on the island. Rockefeller started this tradition when he built his home and the horse carriage trails… as to not spoil what nature had perfected.

  • But on our boat tour all/each is revealed… uniquely styled to take advantage of its uniquely gorgeous granite perch. I would love to give you a narration along with the pictorial tour but truthfully I can’t remember which is which. Suffice to say there are a couple Rockefeller’s, an Astor, a few Ford’s and Martha’s etc, etc, etc…

Peace, Luv, and Little Pink Pebbles,

barbie

Top Ten Things about my Summer in Maine

Before you begin let me assure you that this is a short and sweet blog... unlike Uncle Joe's slide show of his trip to... where ever he went. Zzzzzz.....







Top 10 Best Things I love about my Summer




  1. Campfires and Cribbage – time with my honey

  2. Lobsters – soft shells, steamed in salty ocean water

  3. My best Golf game ever, Lucerne Golf Club

  4. Lucerne Golf Course – my best golf game ever

  5. Hiking Beach Cliffs – my new fav thanks to Rickie for finding it

  6. Lobster and Fresh Mussels from our beach - Yum

  7. Mainers – collectively all of them

  8. The Margaret Todd – her sails, her full figure sails…




I’ve been trying to compile a top ten list about my summer. I am stuck at number 8… The first few flew out of my head like Emeril Lagassi’s Bam!... Bam Bam Bam!







Now… no Bam…


Then it dawns on me that my summer isn’t over yet… and there is some kinda cosmic force trying to keep me in the Present… in the Moment... the Here and Now. That is really the most challenging concept to practice. Think about it. We either rehash or over analyze or we spend days planning schedules, our vacations, our futures… until our present is one big planning or lessons learned session. Well snap out of it girl!







I have 6 weeks left in Maine. Heather, Mel, and Carlette have yet to visit; I have a hike to get to this morning.






Snap! Just in time too, Brando almost peed on my foot trying to get my attention. I really zone out sometimes. (leave it alone Pedro).


Peace, Luv, and Full Sails, barbie




Sister, Sister! My fun loving sister Mary has just left and I am sad… and exhausted. Note to self: I am working and can’t keep up with the vacation club. There is a fine line between keeping your guest entertained and losing yourself in tourist Never, Neverland…


…because Bar Harbor Neverland is whama jamma full of fun!


with hikes, bikes, and karaoke mikes.

Buses, boats, and blueberry floats

Lobsters, puffins, and popover muffins

Canoes, kayaks, and my aching back

Carriage rides, high tides, and t-shirts that are tie-dyed

Seals, Whales, and endless Trails


Fishing, fountains, and Cadillac Mountain

Lighthouses, Lumberjacks, overstuffed backpacks

Campfires and cribbage… and we haven’t even golfed yet!



Alliteration and rhyming aside, we had a grand time and we loved having her… and all our family and friends that came to visit this year.



Of course we didn’t do All the things while she was here but a few of our favorites we enjoyed were watching the meteor showers from the top of Cadillac Mountain, the Acadian Island boat tour: We saw a fledgling eagle take her first flight, 2+ lb Lobsters at the Down East “Pound” for dinner, and golfing at Lucerne.

So now we have returned to our normal routine of campfires and cribbage with a hike and a little golf thrown in there occasionally. That is until Heather arrives in two week!


Peace, Luv, and Lobster Claws, Barbie


PS. I almost forgot the Lobster Pound question… which at this point is a little anti-climatic. The real meaning behind calling it a “pound” is much less entertaining than the “Wait, wait, don’t tell me” versions and the subsequent submissions from the peanut gallery. But a promise is a promise, so the boring but yummy truth of which you may have guessed is that the roadside Lobster Pound restaurants

“Sells Lobster By the Lb.”

PSS. Sign/Saying of the day: “While golfing I spent so much time in the trees that I figured I be oughta take up hunting”

Fun, Family and Frivolities



The Herwerden clan was here as you might have guessed by reading the last blog. But a footnote on “Lobster Pound” surely isn’t enough (and don’t call me Shirley) and the day by day diatribe of their summer vacation seems a big much… so perhaps a pictorial portrayal. Enjoy.



Peace, Love, and Summer Vacations, barbie






















And the Tails under the Sea continue... theory # 4








guest contributor: Joanne "Ariel" Berens







This is also a well-documented series of events that led up to the terminology ‘Lobster Pound’ prevalent in Maine. The early settlers of the coastal region of Maine were mainly composed of fisherman (and hardy fisherwomen). It was a harsh environment, but one that kept their communities fed. Fishing nets were mainly used to capture the many and abundant varieties of fish and all were prosperous and well in coastal Maine. Until, of course, the nets became snagged and damaged by a strange creature in the deep. In modern times we know that there are certain migratory patterns that have been followed for centuries by certain animals. The settlers, however, were quite unsettled by this and concerned with their livelihood. Many meetings ensued and the angry settlers decided to round up these strange creatures that were entangled in the nets and burn them, similar to witch hunts and burning at the stake ceremonies. This would surely send the message to the powers who watched over the seas that they were making this offering in appeasement. Well, the net damage continued as well as the burnings until one very disastrous season when food was scarce after a very harsh winter, the ones that Maine is famous for. On the very next burn, the adult settlers were aghast as dozens of the hungry children risked physical danger by reaching into the fire to pull out what we now know as crustaceans, or lobsters, and commenced tearing the hard shells apart and eating what was now succulent meat. Adults, just as hungry, decided to partake as well and all left with full bellies and happy smiles. As word spread about this delicious, abundant new food source, the elders once again convened to discuss the events that were taking place. On the one hand, the new food named lobster was destroying the fisherman’s nets and supplies to repair and make new nets were running low. And on the other hand, they wanted to continue to capture this new sea creature that kept their hunger at bay. Many of these folks had visited out West where on the vast plains cattle grazed. When it came time for the cattle to become tomorrow’s food they were herded into confines while they awaited their fate. Well, the elders thought that this concept would work under the sea and put in place a plan to ‘herd’ the lobsters into a confined area. So the settlers collectively built a huge underwater holding pen built of scrap horseshoe material. They had several ideas on how to persuade the lobsters in the correct direction and into the trap. The one that they decided they could accomplish efficiently was to have all the fisherman’s boats loaded with long steel poles with a big plate on the end of it. Then they formed a line and ‘pounded’ the poles on the bottom of the sea thus making the lobsters scurry towards the pen that they had built. [insert: Kinda Oceanic Monster Mash] It was a huge success! It became a tradition long after the technology changed and today it is commonly known as going to the lobster ‘pound’.


Hhmmmmm.... It could happen.



PS. If this makes no sense to you... you may need to go back and read a blog or two. :)



Lobster Pound theory #3





by guest contributor: Rachel Gardiner






Grunt and Errrg, two cavemen, were picked up in a micro-burst during a storm about 16,000 b.c. Unceremoniously dumped on the rocky shore of the North Atlantic sea, they wandered for days without food or drinkable water. Frustrated by their hunger and lack of familiar landscape, they grew tired of one another and began to quarrel."Grunt" growled Grunt. "Errrg" uttered Errrg. Ultimately their verbal assaults became physical, and they wound up chest deep in the sea.Much thrashing about ensued, until Grunt held Errrg by the hair and shoved him underwater. Errrg was not going down without a fight, and grabbed at everything near him. In his struggle, he inadvertently wrapped his massive hand around a sea creature, and, thinking its hard body to be a handy weapon, burst out of the water and began to pound Grunt over the head with it. Many scrapes and cracked claws later,both men and crustacean were washed up on the shore. Noone is sure of the exact sequence of events that followed, but Paleolithic cave paintings show two cavemen alternately pounding a lobster-like creature against a rock, and subsequently picking its flesh out with small two-tined sticks and feasting. A millena later, Mainers found the rocks upon which the series of events were documented, and honored their ancient ancestors with the term "Lobster Pound."


Lobster Pound?
So I have been pondering the “Pound” question? You know… Why are Maine roadside restaurants that sell lobster called Lobster Pounds? I suppose I could look it up on Bing or Jeeves but that would not be half as fun.

While my (very cool) niece and nephew were visiting, late one night we were star gazing up near Cadillac Mountain. I suppose I should have been giving them some sage advice or contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As it turned out, we mused the origins of the name Lobster Pounds. Of course, “up here” in Down East Maine it is pronounce “lŏb'star”. So perhaps the topic was a cosmic star connection… or perhaps our train of thought was derailed by the altitude.

Whatever it was…, here is our version of NPRs: “Wait, wait, don’t tell me!”
  • Lobster Pound theory #1:

Henry’s been out working in the cranberry bogs all day in hip-waders just like you see on the two guys in the Oceanspray commercial. (by the way, I’m not sure, but in my thinking any job that is located in a “bog” has gotta smell… don’t you think?) Anyway smelly Henry’s finishes his long hard day and now all he wants is a “Lŏb'star!” But it’s tourist season and the counter is 6 families deep. It’s gonna be a while before Henry can make his selection. He is not feeling particularly patient, but he’s a Mainer, so he suffers in silence. He is waiting, and waiting, and waiting when little Johnny throws a hissy fit because Dad wouldn’t let him have the biggest crustacean in the tank. Henry is still waiting when Johnny’s sister realized that Dad has replaced Johnny’s selection with the cute little lobster in the corner of the tank that she has named Lulu. And Johnny may now actually eat Lulu. A second round of hysteria breaks out. By the time Henry gets to the counter he is up to ears in tourist and he’s starving. He gonna blow… raises his fist and starts “Pounding” on the counter. “I want Lŏb'star… I want Lŏb'star and I want it now! ” And the term “Lobster Pound” was coin right then and there.
  • Lobster Pound theory #2:

Brianna and Joel are sophomores at COA or the College of the Atlantic. It is an institution of higher education known for its many shades of green. Two of the most prevalent being its eco-centric marine left bent, as well as its students’ abundant bank accounts… I personally dubbed it the school of the “rich and amphibious.” Brianna and Joel are standing at the counter getting ready to order dinner.

“Whatever!” Brianna said brushing off Joel. “I don’t care how good they are in butter and garlic; I just can’t bring myself to eat him. He reminds me of Sebastian from Little Mermaid.”

“Wrong crustacean” smirked Joel.

Brianna “I don’t care, have you seen all the colored buoys in Frenchman’s Bay? They haven’t a chance. Have you seen all the boats going out to catch them and the tons of little cages stacked up?… they’re like dog catchers, rounding up all the free rooming lobsters… to take them to the Pound. And here we are, at the Pound… the Lobster Pound! Picking out which Lobster to take home with us… only… I don’t think he will sit up and beg…” Brianna’s voice trails off.

Joel: No but I am going to “Pot”ty train him. lol

Hence the term Lobster Pound was cooked up right then and there.

Well traditionally, there would be three stories to pick from on Wait, wait… but this blog is neither traditional nor on NPR. So rules be damned. And since I also have no callers, I will have to wait for your comments and/or emails in response to the blog and you’ll just have to wait until the next blog to discover the origins of the term “Lobster Pound”.
Until then…
Peace, Luv, and Nephropidaes, barbie


Run credits
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Concept Contributors – Dann and Em Herwerden, the niece and nephew whose conversation sparked this blog


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Producers – Karen and Rick Herwerden, conceivers of the afore mentioned contributors.
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Bouncer – Lobster Johnson previously employed by Dark Horse Comics
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Lunch provided by Red
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Accounting – Crayg “countem’ Fish
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Lunch Seasoner – C. Saltner
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Location Finder – Ocea N. O’Graffer
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Hair and Makeup – Clawdius Du
The Rain in Maine stays mainly in Maine


Ruth has been brushing up on her stalking skills. It had been a while and I was beginning to think her gaydar was malfunctioning. And then, and do I dare I use the analogy “raining” lesbos? Having set the record for wettest June in Maine’s history, even the locals are grumpy. And while I’m on the subject, I don’t get this “we” thing. I hear on TV that “we” set the record for the afore mentioned record. I’m not sure I should be included… I am only a seasonal resident or seasonal tourist (depending how you look at it) Is it just Mainers that are included in that “we”? Even if I am included… how did I influence the rain? Ruth didn’t do a dance or anything… I think Mother Nature may have a little more influence than I. I know, I know the global warning and all that. So what’s the action – reaction timing? If I throw away my Sunday paper will it rain on Monday? If I use it to start my campfire rather than a chemically induced starter do I get partial credit? Or are we paying for the sins of our fore-fathers? Like, all the Campbell’s soup cans your mother pitched during your childhood made it rain on my Birthday… Jeez, another thing to blame our parents for. Note to self: recycle more.
Once again I digress. Stalking lesbians was the original subject wasn’t it? It seems to have taken the 4rth of July to rain gyrls and Ruth was Johnny on the spot. Two by two they drove up to our registration office. I have to say, it does made it a little easier for Ruth when they come to you… to registration that is. Regardless, there were 3 couples that joined us for the holiday and the 10 percent rule seems to be in effect. That would be 3 out of 32 campsites rented. And the diversity is also evident. One couple was retired Wimbledon watching women from Florida. Another was a couple was of 30 somethings, city dwellers with all the camping toys and a four legged child in tow. The last was a young family unit with a young son from Maine eking out a family vacation in a tent.
As usual Ruth, she managed to befriend each of them before they made it to their campsite … kind of a dyke concierge. It’s fun to watch her work… and then I can just sit back and write about it later. Lol. That is not to say her customer service is any less to the hordes of heteros … it just doesn’t have quite have the same personal Lezbakistani touch.
And I suppose since this blog is public, I should make it clear. By the word stalk I don’t mean that that any inappropriate or unwanted attention was involved. Nor did she don camouflage darting from tree to tree following anyone, (although that’s a pretty cool picture in my head), and clearly as anyone that has tried to reach us knows, there could be no harassing cell calls cuz we don’t have fr@#%kin cell service. In this context, stalk is a euphemism for:
“Sistah! Come have a drink, we’re building a deck this afternoon - it’s byo_casserole dish and power tool”

or perhaps more appropriate to our current circumstance…

“Sistah! Martinis and Dos Equis are served fireside at dusk - byo_seating and Sapphire, limes provided.”

I hope as I write this that the spring rains may finally be over. It is July after all.

Sign of the day: On the lawn of a drug rehab center said: “Keep off the Grass.”
Peace, Luv, and Muck Shoes,
barbie
The Seasonal Tourist




We are considered seasonal residents, as such; we get a few seasonal perks. Like free admission to some of the tourist attractions… except the National Park. Each week I try to check out a different trap… I mean attraction. We are given this privilege in hopes that we will point the tourist in their direction. With that in mind, I would consider myself a seasonal tourist.

On a rainy day, there are not many directions to go, but the Oceanarium is one of them. It was… well… unique. First you have to know that this is not a fancy shamcy Aquarium like Boston. Second, this is Maine. It’s rough/tough around the edges with a big heart, raw honesty, and a wicked sense of humor. With that in mind, this place was either a lobster hatchery that does tours or a funky little roadside attraction that grows lobsters. Either way it was mildly interesting, a little dingy, and in need of a good spring cleaning.





The best part was the woman that was our guide at the Discovery Tank. The wife of a lobster man and self taught ecologist was a Birkenstock mama that face and hands had seen many Maine winters. Regardless, with a twinkle in her eyes the tuff old bird waded her arms in the cement pond over and over and came up with star fish, sea urchins, sea cucumbers, ocean snails as big as my fist, and few other spinney or squirmy sea creatures for us to handle, pet, and prod.



The Lobster hatchery was not as entertaining. The pudgy college interns’ monotone lecture was difficult to hear over the bored children tugging at their parents. But never fear, even with the distraction I managed a few tidbits of fun facts to share with you.
  • The lady lobster can lay around 12K eggs a cycle but only less than one percent survive to adolescences.

  • Although Maine lobster man are not required by law to throw females back unless they are carrying eggs, Maine lobster” people” (as there must be women too) know what’s good for them and voluntarily throw all females back.

  • Even with that, over fishing threatened the industry, so the lobster hatchery supplements the survival rate and maintains a healthy balance in the Bay. Last year the Oceanarium released 30, 209 juveniles.

  • A one pound lobster is 7-9 years old and considered an adult and about the perfect size for my plate. Lol.

The other seasonal perk I took part in this week was the consumption of freshly picked mussels from the Narrows of Western Bay. That is to say, off the beach at the camp ground. Wading out in the muck can be either ankle or knee deep depending on the tide. It is much easier at the ankle but watching the tourist get a mouthful of salt water reaching for mussels at knee deep is rather entertaining.

Anyway, our workamper mates dropped by about six dozen freshly gathered and cleaned mussels for us today. It is a shame Ruth won’t eat any… I suppose I will have to choke down her share… if I must.

Cooking mussels or clams is the easiest thing you’ll ever cook. My favorite is steamed. I had a bottle of dark ale left and added a tablespoon of minced garlic, any 3 dozen mussels in a pot on the grill. Bring to boil and steam until the shells open. Some people like to stir them up and continue until they are all open. I can’t wait… I guess I don’t have to wait. I eat them as they open… a little butter and lemon and I am in heaven. I am getting so spoiled on this fresh seafood I may never be able to order it at a restaurant off the coast again. Excuse me as I channel Frogger, “This is Yummer Dummers!”.



Lastly, some of the blog watchers have asked for pictures of our camp. I completely forget about that since we are “living” here rather than visiting for a few days. The Bar Harbor KOA has two locations a mile apart, Oceanside and Woodlands side. We reside on the Woodland side. I must admit that I was a little disappointed at first. I had visions of greeting each morning by stepping out onto the beach with my coffee and smelling the salt air. In the end, I am happier our little forest oasis. Our campers are mostly tenters and as such are the campfire / hiking’ type rather Fred and Ethel in the 40’ bus that complain endlessly about the mosquitoes. Anyway, I’ve included pictures of our seasonal neighborhood so to speak for your enjoyment.





Sign / Slogan of the day as heard on the weather radio: “Don’t Drown, Turn Around.” This was the public announcement urging people not to drive into flood waters. It doesn’t sound as funny to me right now but Ruth and I had a good chuckle. This would make sense to you when you realize that they have islands here that... rather than building a bridge, they wait until low tide and drive over… every day. Can you imagine your work or mail schedule being based on low tide. Only in Maine. Lol.

Until the next installment...

peace, luv, and sea creature (edible or otherwise),

barbie

Mount Desert Island, what's in a name?



Mount Desert Island… doesn’t sound inviting does it? I think it needs a name make over… It would be easy … just slip an extra S in there. Who wouldn’t go to a place called Mount Dessert Island? The visions of cupcakes, and bunt cakes, makes the idea not half-baked. Although here it would be more appropriate to line the street with popovers, pies, and ice-cream stands. All three of which are well established and/or plentiful on the island. I’m sure I’m not the first to suggest this, nor will I be the last. But Mainers’ will do what Mainers do… just smile and go about their business of not letting anyone into their business. And if that doesn’t work and you are still going on about your ideas they will fix it with what they fix everything… a short little piece of duct tape strategically placed should do the trick. I’m not kidding. It seems to be the running joke… they have whole books on the subject and I could probably write a whole blog on it but that would be called plagiarism. I couldn’t imagine half the uses/jokes Mainer’s have come up with for this universal fix-all. And with that you realize Mainers have more in common with red-necks than you would think… but that’s an entirely different blog. Lol.





So where do I go from here? Ahhh yes, Adah came to visit last week. It was a great visit and what was particularly fun for me was to see Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park through her eyes. She worked here for a season about 15 years ago. It was surprising to me how little has changed. Sure… a restaurant here or a shop there but for the most part the island has remained as she remembered it. That was very cool! There are not many places you can say that about.




This is not to say Bar Harbor is backwards or old fashioned in their ideas. As a vacation destination, it has progressed with the times. The Lobster Pounds take credit cards now, Internet cafes have infiltrated Cottage St, and campgrounds now have more RV sites than tent sites all without ruining the island experience. Just recently they successfully defended a referendum that would have allowed big “box” stores. It is really nice to know that the future of the quaint and overpriced shops in town will be here for the next generations. Seriously though, it’s a good thing because just a few miles off the island you can find Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Lowes, and a variety other 10K+ square ft stores and I suppose keeping the balance of box vs. non box / on shore vs. off shore keeps the balance of a healthy tourist economy for both.





But I digress… during Adah’s visit we finally took a drive around the entire “park loop” of Acadia. Her narrative was priceless as we maneuvered the cliffs overlooking Seal Harbor, Thunder Hole, Cadillac Mountain, and so on… I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. One thing you will notice is that it was wet, foggy, and chilly. Where is my summer? Rumor has it this is the wettest June since ever! And we are averaging 10 degrees under the norm… aside from that… it is fabulous here! Lol.




And someday the weather will be nice enough to see more than the entrances to the hike trails and carriage roads… but until then the best I can do are the do’s and don’ts of the local fare:




  • Galyn’s for lunch on Main St, Bar Harbor – Do
  • Town Hill Market for Pizza – Don’t
  • Jordan’s Pond House in Acadia for just about anything – Do
  • 2 Cats for breakfast, Bar Harbor – Do Do Do
  • Ruth & Wimpy’s Kitchen, Hancock - local greasy spoon… if you must… then – Do
  • Thirsty Whale, Bar Harbor – lobster rolls and local banter – Do
  • China Hill, Trenton – the obligatory Chinese joint in Ellsworth – Don’t ever
  • Mainly Meat and Atlantic Brewery, Town Hill for the obvious - Do

Peace, Love, and Tasty Rain Drops, barbie

I almost forgot... Sign of the Day: I was thinking... Why is that Frisbee getting so Big, and then it hit me!

Link to more pictures: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=b57bf1sBf7Tf82gY1MjF5&_=1

Mount Desert Isle… where?







Bar Harbor sent out its best weather as a welcoming committee… it has been wicked cold by Florida standards (in the 60’s) and it’s been raining off and on for two weeks. Funny thing is… if the sun peaks out a minimum of an hour… a Mainer will call it a nice day. I sure hope it warms up in June. That’s life on Mt. Desert Isle, Bar Harbor, and our home for the summer.
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Meanwhile we started working at the Camp and that’s been interesting to say the least. I won’t call it hard work… just a wee bit chaotic getting it opened for the season. Ironically there are at least 3 other couples from the sunshine state. It seems the Maine is a hotspot for Floridians… who’da thuck it?
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We are the only gyrlie-gyrls working here at the KOA… well if you don’t count our manager. The team is a fairly good cross section of America… I suppose if the 10% rule is accurate; then we are the gay quota at the KOA. As for the hetros, we are still feeling our way through. Most are very nice and relatively open minded… at least one of the couples is “a wee bit” homophobic but tolerable… so far... as long as they don’t demand equal rights or anything. It’s not very often we get a boss that bats for our team. For me, that means we get the best shifts… comp tour tickets, and of course the laughter that comes with the witty inside jokes that only “we” and an avid Will and Grace watchers could hope to understand. The rest of the team is great and I think we are gonna like it here.
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OK so much for work, you don’t really want to hear about that anyway. You want to hear about the fun stuff… like golf, the spectacular places to see, the fascinating history, and all the little gems of local lore that I’m guessing are more amusing than fact... more CZ (cubic zirconium) than diamond. But hey, CZ is very hip in “green” circles… I’m just saying.
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So far we have toured around Acadia on our own and taken a ride on Ollie’s Trolley. Our tour guide on the trolley Santo was as entertaining as he was informative. We would recommend the ride to all first timers as a good overview of the park and parts of town of Bar Harbor. Some of the highlights we saw were:



  • Jordan’s Pond House Restaurant that is famous for Popovers and Tea, very yummy! On a nice day you can sit on the granite paved patio or out in the lawn sip tea and marvel at the view of Bubble Rock.


  • The Wild Gardens of Acadia, its nature trail, and the Sieur de Mont Springs. The mission of the gardeners is to save the endangered indigenous species of mount Desert Isle. (see obligatory flower pictures) a must for plants and nature lovers.



  • The Sandy Beach : The spot is quite nice and has a moderately difficult hike but well worth the effort that skirts the inlet along the rocky cliffs give you a unique vantage point of the inlet/beach. It is also the beach depicted in the movie “Cider House Rules”.

CZ tidbit: A group of "Ruskin’s"(as the early settlers are called) were drawn to the island after seeing a painting by an artist painted depicting its blue-green waters. (Not quite the Caribbean but blue green none the less).


For those of you that are fans of the Oregon coast, Maine is for you. It is rocky, not crowded, and the water temperature is… well let say… for the really hearty folk.


I feel like we have barely seen the tip of the iceberg on what is here but so far I think it’s GORGEOUS!




  • The carriage roads built by Rockefeller when he owned the land. Some of the carriages are still driven by gentleman and/or their sons that worked for John D Rock Jr. and is a nice way to tour the interior of the Island. (So we are told, we haven’t had the time yet. :)

CZ tidbit: Rockefeller Jr. also offered to build a high school on the island and fund it in perpetuity as long as they put his name on it. The locals voted it down. Mainers don’t like uppity folk that tell them what to do or how to do it.


Thunder Hole is a naturally formed crevice that when the tide comes in creates a thunderous noise and shoots water on unsuspecting tourists similar to Splash Mountain at Disney World. Of course, the tide was out when we stopped by… bummer. But I did get some great pictures… my favorite was the green mossy growth that splits its’ habitat between salt water and salt air based on the tide. It looks like it could have been the inspiration for creation shag carpeting.


Well that's all for now... I hope you’ve enjoyed our time together… and I hope you came back real soon, ya here?

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Mainely Maine

Boothbay and Boothbay Harbor


Once again, we have a rainy dreary day just in time for a little sightseeing… hurray! And I forgot my camera so you’ll just have to live with a written description of Boothbay…

Click… half of you just closed the blog… don’t think I didn’t hear that. Well for the rest of you suckers, I mean, faithful friends that stayed, here it is…
Boothbay Harbor is a very chic little harbor town. Touristy? Yes. Overdone? No. Although, we did not have the throngs of tourist on a rainy Thurs. afternoon… nor the street hawkers since it’s a wee bit early in the season… so I suppose I should reserve my opinion. (Yeah right, lol)

Regardless... it was my first taste of New England charm. Graying shaker-shingle clad buildings with buoys caught in nets draped on white picket fences. The streets were narrow and gnarled, clearly created prior to automobils. The bobbing boats pop out from between the buildings revealing the harbor as its backdrop. And establishments like “McSeagulls” and “The Anchor” pretty much give it away along with the salty air.
I’m told that Boothbay Harbor is the “little” Bar Harbor. Regardless of crowds or lack of… we managed to find a bookstore and a locals’ recommendation for lunch. My first taste of New England clam chowder was absolutely yummers!
Sometime during our lunch in our cozy dock sided café, the thermometer dropped its shorts 20 degrees and mooned us. Which is always best (mooning that is) when you least expect it but in this case… not so much. We high tailed it home and turned up the heat.


Pemaquid Lighthouse


As lighthouses go… it was one. I’m not as fascinated as some people with these beacons of light. It probably didn’t help that the fog rolled in just as we got there mid-day and visibility was minimal and the light house itself was closed. Although, I did get a few cool pictures.
Built in 1827 and on a clear night reaches out 14 miles to greet vessels with her arms of light.


The lightkeepers house is now a funky little Fisherman's Museum with hundreds of relics and odd facts related to the sea and those that bring on dinner from it.

I found it interesting how little the lobster trap has evolved other than the materials used to build it... and of cousre the 28 pound loster... who could resist.

I have a feeling that this is quintesential Maine and I am quite tickled with our decision to summer here.

Fort William Henry … was also not open yet… as the tourist season has barely peaked its head out from under the covers.

But overall it was a nice country drive… and in the end we found some pretty good Margarita’s in the capitaol city of Augusta.

Fear not! We have not forgotten the quest for the best margarita, and are determined to leave no stone unturned… this however is not it. The fresh squeezed lime was a nice touch but not enough to top the” Knock u Naked” in Natchez nor the “Rita’s Rita” in San Anton.


Peace, Love, and Salt on the Rock,

Additional photos....





Brando & Stella
Cool Stained Glass of Pemaquid Lightsouse
Obligatory Flower Picture :)