End of summer 2012 highlights reel

The Lobster Festival and the Union Fair

Four different houseguests, three days of sailing, two family gatherings, and a waxwing in the crabapple tree

Foggy Jonesport

A sailing trip Down East to Canada, just Himself and a friend from Outward Bound

Tostitos the Fish succumbed to galloping fungus and went to be with Jesus

Thing One had a fantastic summer as an apprentice on the schooner American Eagle

The mother of all seventh-grade-girls' sleepovers, aboard this 142' charter yacht whose captain happens to be Thing Two's friend's dad

Back-to-school shopping (ouch)

Three cords of wood delivered and needing to be stacked

And much, much more... but I've run up against my storage limit on this account, and life has changed enough since I started this little endeavor:  the kids are busier, my job is more demanding, and when the dishes are cleared and homework is done and I'm finally able to sit down of an evening, usually around 8.30 or 9, someone else is invariably using the computer.

So the blog is slowing down.    The occasional recipe or knitting project or shameless plug (which reminds me, I have one of those to share soon) or random thoughts.  

Thanks for following.

Family Affair

My mother was the oldest of five siblings.

She is survived by two brothers...

...and two sisters.

One brother and one sister are sort of local; one sister lives in South Carolina and one brother lives in Rhode Island.  Despite the distance, it's a tightly-knit crew.









Because of the distance, though, and careers and busy lives and kids and grandkids, it's rare to get everyone - especially with their spouses - together in one spot.

They were all here last weekend, though, and they spent an entire precious afternoon at my place.

Inevitably, the conversation turned to family history.  Much of the lore is fairly common knowledge; some of it, though, comes out in bits from this person and pieces from another, depending on who talked to whom over the years.

There's great-great Uncle Buzz, born in 1893, who worked as a cook on a schooner on the Maine to Bermuda route.  On one trip, the captain died, and Buzz, being the most qualified of the crew, brought the schooner home.  Apparently he also had fair certain knowledge of the whereabouts of buried treasure (the existence of which along the Maine coast has long been rumored), which he took to his grave.  Who knew?

Then there's my great-great-grandmother Maude, who was widowed young in 1897 and whose only daughter became the object of a custody battle with her late husband's family over an imagined inheritance (they lost).   There are shadow stories of a second pregnancy which was forcibly terminated by the late husband.

Or how about my great-great-great-grandmother Etta, who is the first woman in the family who experienced clairvoyant dreams and visions?  One of Etta's sons nearly lost his life in a terrible storm at sea - the details of which Etta could describe accurately before the son even came home to share his tale.  (This gift is shared by my grandmother and one of my aunts, but skipped my line, thank heavens).

Someday we shall write a book.

A Room with a View

I was in Portland last week for a manufacturing conference, which was held at the Holiday Inn by the Bay.

My room was on the fourth floor and it did, indeed, have lovely (if somewhat distant and fog-shrouded) views of Portland Harbor.

One was somewhat distracted, however, by the view in the foreground of the second-floor roof.

Which was a regular hangout for, and covered with the waste of, those pestilential herring gulls.

A small drama has been playing out in Rockland recently between an old dingbat who insists on feeding gulls, her neighbors, and the city fathers.

Said dingbat doesn't just toss out the odd crumb every now and again.  No.  We're talking cases and cases of bread, daily, and a scrum of hundreds of aggressive, defecating, squawking, extremely large birds, which trash not just the dingbat's yard but the neighbors' yards, while the neighbors are trapped in their houses to avoid the noise and mess.

Cars and window screens end up covered in caustic bird droppings.  Feathers blanket patios.  Small children are carried away bodily.

The city fathers got involved after a series of complaints.  A new ordinance was written.  The intrepid code enforcement officer has been going deep undercover to ensure compliance.  The old lady still believes she is within her rights, so continues to feed the gulls.

Of course after years of daily feedings, the gulls are going to show up in her yard no matter what.  Like they stalk fishing boats knowing that old bait is going to be tossed out.  They've got used to humans making their wretched lives easier.

(Take this guy, for example.  One of many at my Portland aviary which dropped by to nab a drink from the condensation draining off the rooftop HVAC units.)

Now the city is threatening fines of $2,500 per day and the dingbat continues to insist that she has to feed the damn things because - this kills me - she says they don't have anywhere else to go.

To all Rockland herring gulls, if the Camden Street Terrace smorgasbord dries up on you, may I suggest the thriving urban environment (and progressive food scene) 80 miles to the south?

Recipe: Spicy Southwestern Chicken Salad

This is a refreshing and substantial summertime main dish salad (utilizing the tomato, cilantro and lettuce in this week's CSA share...).

Spicy Southwestern Chicken Salad

Chicken:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon cayenne (or to taste)
1 teaspoon cumin
1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon salt
3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

Combine the first five ingredients and coat the chicken breasts with the mixture.  Refrigerate 30 minutes, then grill until done.  Set aside until it's time to assemble the salad, then slice thinly.

Tomato/onion vinaigrette:

3 tomatoes, chopped
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
2-3 hot peppers (like serrano, poblano, cayenne; the variety is not terribly crucial and a mix is good), or to taste, seeded and finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 cup olive oil
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
Salt & pepper to taste

Combine all the ingredients in a medium bowl.

Salad:

1-2 heads lettuce (depending on size), washed and torn into bite-sized pieces
About 3 cups shredded Cheddar, Jack or Mexican blend cheese
About 2/3 of a 26-oz bag of frozen shoestring fries, baked according to package directions

Divide the lettuce among four dinner plates.  Top with hot fries and shredded cheese.  Arrange sliced chicken over the cheese, then pour the vinaigrette over everything.

Serves 4.

Playing tourist

Our very dear friend, the Rev. Dr. D, came to see us for a few days.

This gentleman was the chaplain at my college way back in the day, and hired me as the chapel organist when I was a sophomore.

Then he retired and moved to Oregon.  But he came back to Pennsylvania to perform our wedding.

Then he moved back to Pennsylvania.

We've kept in touch.  He loves Maine and had been wanting to come back for a while, and we were one stop on his whirlwind summer vacation.

In spite of breaking his leg last October and being almost 80, he ran me more or less ragged.


Here's what we did over the course of two days:

Cooked a mess of lobsters, steamers, mussels and corn, and made an unholy and thoroughly satisfying mess of the kitchen.

Got ice cream at Dorman's and seafood at the Rockland Cafe.

(Not in that order.)

Went up the Penobscot Narrows Observatory and all over Fort Knox.

Visited the Penobscot Marine Museum.

Walked around Camden and drove up Mt. Batty.

Had a picnic lunch at Marshall Point.

Poked around the Olson House.

(I can completely understand how someone could get hung up on this place and spend a lifetime painting it.)

















Met up with Thing One on the schooner American Eagle.

Went sailing.


Visited my grandmother.


Took about a bazillion pictures.


Revisited old memories and made new ones.


Had a blast.

Recipe: Winter Harbor Mussels & Pasta

We spent last Saturday night with friends in Winter Harbor, on the east side of Vinalhaven.  It's a narrow channel which the more adventurous sailor can pick his way up, threading around sand bars and outcroppings of ledge.

I am not an adventurous sailor.  Every time we go to Winter Harbor, I pour myself a glass of wine, lie down with a cold cloth over my eyes, and wait until I hear the anchor drop or the keel scrape bottom.  Whichever comes first.

It's worth the aggravation of getting there, though.  The scenery is amazing, and it's as good as landlocked, so a very sheltered anchorage.  There are granite cliffs to climb and old quarries to explore.  Bald eagles and osprey soar overhead.  The water is lovely, warm (by North Atlantic standards) and a translucent green.  And best of all, those sandbars at the tide line are loaded with mussels.

We gathered a mess of them and brought them home with us Sunday, cleaned them well and made pasta for dinner.

Winter Harbor Mussels & Pasta

3 lbs. small mussels (more or less), debearded, scraped, scrubbed, soaked and rinsed (or whatever it takes to clean them up)
1/4 cup olive oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
1/4 cup minced garlic
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 28-oz cans whole Italian tomatoes, undrained
1 cup vermouth
1/4 cup each chopped fresh parsley and basil
Salt and pepper
1 lb. linguini or spaghetti, cooked & drained

Heat the olive oil in a large pot.  Saute the onion and garlic until the onion is tender.  Stir in red pepper, tomatoes (with juices) and vermouth; bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until the liquid is reduced by 1/4 to 1/3.  As it cooks, use a spoon or potato masher to crush the tomatoes.

Add the mussels; cover and simmer 5-7 minutes, until the mussels open.  Discard any that remain closed.  Stir in parsley and basil and season with salt and pepper.

Serve in bowls over hot cooked pasta, with plenty of bread for sopping.

Serves 4 generously.

Scenes from a weekend sailing trip

Carver Cove, Vinalhaven.  I want that house.

Little Hen Island?  Big Hen Island?  Some island.  Vinalhaven-ish.

Some island, probably called Hen.

Starboard Rock, Winter Harbor, Vinalhaven

The Monument, Fiddler's Ledge, North Haven