Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Missing Maine

It's too bad that the first summer heat wave (if you don't count March and April) found us in Boston instead of Down East where we had the pool to ourselves most of the time. It's 10:15 pm and 91 degrees. 

I hate the heat with a hot hate, and I've been inside since noon. This morning I was interested in visiting Morticia, the giant corpse flower at the Franklin Park Zoo, which blooms for just a couple of days every 15 years, filling the air with the stench of rotting meat. She sounds irresistibly appealing, but it's just too darned hot. I'll have to catch her in 2027.

The heat did not catch me unprepared. After considerable deliberation and research, I bought a pair of Sharp air conditioners; several reviews said they were quieter than other brands. Wrong! They are ridiculously loud — impossible to tune out even when they're on the lowest speed. Imagine sitting on a jet or near an idling 18-wheeler. I tried hard to prevent this, but buying an air conditioner is a gamble: you can't test them in a store. You can't experience the racket it until someone (in our case, a fellow from Back Bay Hardware) has spent an hour or so installing it. We can't hear music, each other, the phone, or anyone meowing. Trying to look on the bright side: we don't hear sirens, the phone, neighbors, the backhoe in the alley — or anything. I wonder if we'd hear the smoke detector. 

Oh, and another thing: they don't really cool our rooms although I did all the calculations you're supposed to do to choose the correct size. And they don't cycle on and off as they should, they just blast away for hours with little benefit.

Tonight will be our first attempt to sleep with one roaring a couple of feet from our pillows. I expect to be rereading And Ladies of the Club long into the morning.

It's good to be home with our cats (I get especially melancholy for Possum when we're apart) but I miss Maine, where temperatures dropped into the 40s at night and a gas fireplace heated our bungalow. We'll be going back in August; our usual July trip was pre-empted by a business trip to Paris. I love Paris but I can't wait to get back on Route 1.

Some last photos:

Lobster shack in Wiscasset, where we stop for lunch.

Asticou Garden in Northeast Harbor, verdant after the rain.

There's one deer in Acadia National Park, or so it seems.

Flower box exploding in Bar Harbor.

Dinghies in Southwest Harbor.

Happy feet in the pool.

1 comment:

  1. Fess up: you took a job with the Maine Dept of Tourism! Every single photo is a classic! I'm dripping (with sweat) with Mainely taciturn envy.

    I want to be there. right. now.

    Hmm, Maine Coon cats fosters want to return to their roots, too. Think I'll be scouring the Maine housing ads.


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