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Day 125 – Friday, February 10, 2012

“Wishes Don’t Do Dishes”

I have moved my “office” from the kitchen into the living room.  It’s a much better view. And it’s warmer.  The Christmas tree has finally been returned to the forest, and the ornaments wrapped in well-read issues of the Wall Street Journal, and boxed, except for the silver mermaid sent to me by the Kearny’s, which now hangs proudly on the door to my bedroom.  This afternoon fresh and frothy white caps stream across a windy front-yard, perhaps harbingers of a coming snow, which promises to maybe, possibly, become a nor’easter.  I am indeed hopeful.

It has been an exceptionally mild winter. In fact, some towns-folk say “the most benign in their entire memory”.  I am grateful for that, but I do wish for one good snow.  That very well may happen tomorrow, as some forecasts are now calling for over a foot powder, steady and strong winds, and sub-zero temperatures.

I am ready.

Yesterday was a day of not-so-light housekeeping, as the dishes had piled up in a highly unusual instance of neglect. I was reminded that “wishes don’t do dishes”, but I am keenly aware that dogs do, and I miss Shasta.


I admit I have had a bit of a writer’s block over the last week, and apologize for the lack of posts.  This will change.  It can be awfully challenging to write every day, or even every other day, and post pictures, especially when not a lot happens.  But a fair amount has happened.  Yesterday was a very, very special day.

The last week has been a string where the ocean, and the harbor, has been nothing short of lake-like.  The usual winter wind went somewhere else, on holiday perhaps, or maybe another more important mission elsewhere.  I made the passage yesterday into the Village, and headed into town for a few provisions and a haircut, somewhere, but not knowing really where.  I stopped at Norb’s, where Stephen Cates’ boat, the F/V Joanna Marie II was in “dry dock” for some overhaul.  The privilege of being welcomed, as I have, by the people of Cutler, being “from away”, is truly amazing.  And if you don’t know how big this boat is, look at the dog.  He’s a big dog.



The next stop was at a gas station, whereupon presenting my debit card was asked by a complete stranger, “Aren’t you the Lighthouse guy?”.  I said yes, smiling, and told them a bit about it, not really thinking until I got back into the car how moving that was for me.   I continued on to Hannaford’s, the Maine grocery chain, where I now know most of the checkout people, and was happy to run into Hillary, a young woman I have not seen in the last couple of trips.  She’s nice, and I like her.

Heading back towards Cutler I stopped at a barber shop and had a proper cut and conversation, then stopped by Johnson’s Automotive, simply to say hello.  Continuing my rare run of peopled visits I stopped at the locally famed “Joe’s Sausage”, which it turns out is simply a home, where a guy named Joe, makes, and sells sausage.  I bought a wheel, which is probably about 18 inches of spiciness.  He also makes herb-oiled olives.  I bought some of those too.  In fact, I am generally racing the tide off island and have not been able to discover many of the interesting looking stores and places in Machias.  Today was different.  I think because I needed it to be.  It should be noted that this county, Washington County, is the poorest county in Maine.  It is also one of the poorest in this country. But this, here, is America.  And I believe it to be America at its finest.


This island, albeit shockingly beautiful, can be a lonely place.  And it can be especially challenging to be relegated to living in your own head, all day, every day.  The value of a smile from a passing stranger is now not hard to put a price on.  And not that I ever took them lightly, but a handshake, and a hug, are things that have taken on a much more precious value.

Heading back to Cutler Village, and being on a roll of sorts, I stopped at another place I have been meaning to for several years, “Bella Terra”.  There I met Teri, and her son Chris, who sell feed and grain and pellets, and freshly laid eggs.  If you’ve only ever had store bought eggs, even organic ones, you truly don’t know what an egg tastes like.  These were warm, and several of them actually had small hen hairs on them.  That’s actually where eggs come from.

I bought a dozen and eleven of them were varying shades of brown.  The twelfth one was green.  OK, a pale, light, Easter green, but green nonetheless.  Chris told me that one of the chickens just lays green eggs.  I will provide the ham.

My last stop was the Post Office, where Connie had another wonderful box of surprises from my Mom, including a hand-knit scarf, which I love.  I also had a care package from a very special woman named Carole Savage (also known as Epona – Goddess of horses, ponies and I assume on a good day, men).  How thoughtful.  And a book, from one of the most kind, treasured and delightful women I have ever been blessed to know, Linda Ryan.  I will begin reading it tonight.

I also want to thank Cutler’s Judy Corbett (also from my dear city of Richmond), for another scrumptious package of home-cooked meals, and Dave and Cheryl Corbett, for the Teflon squares that have made getting the Hardy Boys boat in and out a thousand times easier.  And as always, a special hello to Seamond.

Thanks too to Tim and Kathy cause I wouldn’t be here without them.  And thanks to everyone else for reading, sharing, and “Liking”.  Pics blow up when you click on them.  I’m hoping for one big snow.  The Light remains on, as always.  Good Enuf.


7 Responses to “Day 125 – Friday, February 10, 2012”

  1. elayne kitchen says:

    oh those gorgeous eggs…..I am told that birds produce eggs according to what they eat. A farm on L I where I used to buy eggs had light green ones (grass)in springtime and bright orange when it was autumn(pumpkins).What were the grassy things?????where were they??? is that a large patch……very curious,,but beautiful
    So happy the scarf fits…….tee hee

  2. Carole says:

    Bill you are one lucky person because you have a Mom or Elayne to the rest of us, who made you a scarf. I live in Southern Maine – I am a transplant from CT. Maine may be a “poor State however it is so very rich in many, many ways.” For example I send Bill the care package – I did not have cue having never meet you Bill what to put in it or the best way to send it. The local Post Office informed me because it was going from one place to another in Maine that Parcel Post was the way to go. Then a discussion took place if anyone knew of anyone who could get it over to Little River Island for you. I got in put on what else I might want to include in other or future packages. I have posted this because overall this is why I love living Maine so much. I live in Southern Maine or as some people call it a suburb of Greater Boston.

  3. Donna says:

    Perhaps it’s the wife/mom/knitter in me but I have a warm appreciation for that scarf given to you. There are stories linking knitting to seafarers dating back centuries. Requesting a picture of said scarf be posted!!!!

    See link for modern day knitting for our men at sea

    Wishing you and yours one healthy dose of SNOW!


  4. Mark says:

    Some great pictures, and thanks for letting us all share in your trip. How was the snaow? Get over 6 inches?


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