29 September 2024
The events in this post took place on August 25, 2024.
They're going hiking. We're not. We want to do nothing.
Our nothing starts with a group breakfast at Everyday Joe's, the closest breakfast spot to our houses. The restaurant, next to a gas station, has all the hallmarks of a greasy spoon. It's a place Jack and I have walked past a million times without ever considering. It's not as bad as all that inside. The food is all right if one lowers one's expectations.
Heddy, Ginger, Jeff, and Lonnie want to visit the farmer's market. It's only there on Sundays, in the parking lot next to the ballfield. Jack and I have gone a few times, but in late spring, there's not much going on. Today the market is packed, both with stalls and people.
Jeff and Lonnie want to grill chicken tomorrow night. Our job is to spread out and buy vegetables. I'm tasked with tomatoes.
We drop our vegetables off at Party House. I take some pictures of the place but decide right away that I won't post them on my blog. I haven't paid to be there, after all.
We stop at Exile House. Heddy sinks into one of the soft chairs. We're still exhausted from everything. Ginger sleuths on her phone to figure out when Exile House was built. "I think I looked that up once," I offer. "1940-something?"
"1942," she says. The house is definitely quirky, in a charming sort of way. I have the shades drawn everywhere to keep the heat of the day out, but the sun still streams in through the west-facing windows. I have the ceiling fan on in the living room. I point out the old heating grates on the wooden floor. "You know," I tell Heddy, "the cats would bat every bag tie down there."
I've checked the tide chart. It's on its way in. "Wanna go down to the sand bar? The tide's coming in. It's fun to get chased back into town." We decide to go, and, on our way home, stop at Hannaford to get the rest of the provisions we'll need for the group dinner.
I lead the group down Main Street to West Street. We pass a bike leaning into roadside wildflowers.
The weather today is perfect for this. It's sunny and not too warm.
"There are two low spots that get covered first," I tell them. We head towards the one farthest from shore, where the water is already coming in. "It's fun to watch people realize they're about to get stuck," I say, which is sort of cruel, now that I think about it. Already, people are beginning to wade towards us.
I stand a foot away from the water's edge. I ask Ginger, "What time is it?"
"11:43," she says.
I wait for the tide to reach my feet.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"11.46."
Lonnie is standing on a little rock. "You might wanna step off," I warn him. He does, as the tide swirls in around where he'd been.
Minutes later, we're several yards back as Lonnie's rock goes underwater.
"BROOOOOOOOOOOOONK!" There's only one boat with a horn like that. We look east.
"What time is it?"
"Almost noon."
"It's the CAT!" Jeff exclaims. "It's the kitty!"
In front of us, more folks are wading.
The Margaret Todd, on her way to port from her morning sail, photobombs again.
"It should be coming around the island any minute," Jeff says. "Here, kitty, kitty!" He has his phone out to record the ferry's arrival.
"Um, guys?" Ginger says. She's gesturing towards the other low point in the sand bar. It's already flooding. We were so distracted by the CAT that we forgot about the tide!
I'm laughing. "Some guide I am! Here we are making fun of people and we're stuck too!"
We take off our shoes and wade across the few inches of water. The sand bar is rough under our feet, because it's less sand and more stone, with barnacles and snails. The water is surprisingly warm, I suppose because it's running shallow over sun-baked sand bar here. Out in the harbor, the water is a lot colder.
"Well, that was kinda fun," I admit. "You'll never trust me again." After we put our shoes back on, we walk up the slope to West Street. In all the years I've been here, I've never noticed this sign on a residential fence before. It does look new.
We go one block up to Hannaford. My job is to get veggie burgers.
I stop on the walk back to Exile House to take a picture of grapes growing on another Snow Street property.
Jeff and Lonnie want to hang out at Party House. Heddy, Ginger, and I go over to Choco-Latte for lunch. Heddy is eyeing the bags of Acadia Coffee Company beans by the counter. I have a subscription, of course. I get chatting with one of the baristas. I read recently that the founder has obtained an electric roaster, a first around here, at a location on the north part of the island. I ask if Cristobal is still involved with Acadia Coffee Company. He's not. But I did see burlap coffee bags hanging in the window of the old hardware store on Cottage Street, so I ask if they're still roasting there. The barista exclaims, "So that's what that is! I feel like I just got a missing piece of the story!" I tell the barista about the tour I got a bunch of years ago. Then I get around to placing my lunch order.
Halfway through our meal, I suddenly feel sick, as if I ate meat or something during breakfast. Maybe there was meat on the grill and I ate the fat? I run to the bathroom. Whatever it was, I feel better after a few minutes getting rid of it. I'm glad I didn't barf too. Close call.
Heddy and Ginger want to go shopping.
The best description I have of the stores on Main street is the one Jack gave to friends of ours: "It's all the same shop."
He's kind of right. They're mostly variations on the souvenir theme. They all have t-shirts, sweatshirts, mugs, keychains, and magnets. Each shop has its own variation and additions, of course. There is moose swag throughout, although moose were long ago extirpated from Mount Desert Island. I've stopped collecting moose-themed socks because my drawer is full. I have nearly as many moose keychains as have been on offer. I have moose-themed night shirts aplenty.
Still, it's fun to go inside and look around, especially with folks who've never seen any of this before.
We are, apparently, in need of a basting brush. Window Panes, a household supply store, has the goods. Somewhere, I find a moose nightshirt I don't already own, so of course I buy it. Plus a thick, heavy moose mug that I absolutely do not need.
We go downhill on the east side of Main Street and wind up at Agamont Park. There, we plop down on the grass to rest our feet.
"These sneaks are beat." I'm looking at my shoes, which I only started wearing when I came up here in late May. True, they've been soaked in harbor water once already (that was deliberate), and worn to work every day. Still, three months and the uppers are fraying already? I haven't even blown glass in these sneakers.
Ginger lies back in the grass. She might be asleep. I watch the water.
"Ooo! Fog! I love watching the fog come in." It's often a late-afternoon thing.
Eventually, we haul our carcasses up. It's already after 5:00. We continue the store tour, this time on the west side of Main Street.
Back at Exile House, I upload and label the day's photos. The hikers are back. There's talk about pizza at Party House. I suggest Blaze (we'd checked the menu on our way back), but the decision has apparently been made to get it from someplace closer.
We gather in the Party House dining room, around a table large enough to fit us all. Then there's talk of ice cream. We're doing a taste test. Tonight is CJ's Big Dipper, an old-school style shop with handmade signs, a red-and-white-striped awning, and a patio. The consensus is that Mount Desert Island Ice Cream, which we can see from CJ's, is probably better.
When I get back to Exile House, I check on the spiders. The ones who had their butts towards me last night have their butts towards me again. iNaturalist is identifying them as six-spotted orbweavers, but I think that might be wrong. They're bigger than that and I don't see spots. [I've just recategorized them as Zygiella atrica. Their size and color makes more sense this way.] The Ziggy is still at her post by the side of the house. Another one has set up shop by the side door, near the floodlight. I can't help but startle her when I go inside.
Tomorrow I'm leading a ride from Exile House to Park Loop Road and Cadillac Mountain. Jeff, Lonnie, and Jackie are going to rent electric bikes from the Bar Harbor Bicycle Shop. Glen's brakes are working again. We'll set off as soon as the e-bike folks are ready.
No comments:
Post a Comment