Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Last Postcards from Maine

It's the end of August, time for new adventures, and I hope we'll all have some good ones. Alas, it's still late spring in Old New Yorker Land, although I'm doing my darnedest to get caught up. There's too much good reading in the June fiction issue; more on that later.

Here are the final postcards from Maine because we all need to be getting busy organizing our desks and school supplies, even if school is a distant memory. At this time of year, it's a pleasant ritual and an excuse to finally stock up on pens, automatic pencils, and so on. Every time I need to take a phone message, I grab a pencil from my husband's stash and it won't write, so I toss it, and try again.

We also need to consider fall fashion. I have a free Vogue subscription via Garnet Hill and the September issue arrived yesterday. The postman rang my doorbell because it is bigger than a telephone book and wouldn't fit in the mail slot. He was barely audible on the intercom, exhausted from rolling it in his cart and carrying it up the steps. So let's hope it answers the burning question: Will we be seeing wool and corduroy micro-rompers this September?

Which, naturally, brings me to thoughts of donuts. If you are in Freeport, you'd be a fool to miss Frosty's. Their donuts are everything they should be, whether you want a classic chocolate-frosted or a wilder creation with custom toppings. Also consider the blueberry donut and the twist, a glazed log that's big enough to feed two but probably won't.

The Inn at Southwest Harbor, on Main Street. I've never stayed here but I admire its fanciful architecture:

The obligatory dinghy photo:

We visited Woodlawn, a historic house museum in Ellsworth featuring 18th- and 19th-century furnishings from three generations of the Black family. I took a full set of photos but they ask that photos not be published without permission. So go visit! It's a beautiful house with extensive gardens and grounds.

Here's the iconic view of Otter Cliff on the Park Loop Road in Acadia . . . obscured by fog. Fog happens, and I like it. For one thing, there are few sightseers when there are fewer sights. For another, you get to use your imagination.

This seagull insisted on posing for me, coming closer and closer and presenting frontal and profile views. I often ask a likely seagull to come live with us, because the cats say they would like a bird friend, but they all refuse. This one flew off as soon after my invitation.


  1. Somehow I think this seagull won't have to worry while in the presence of cats!


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