Monday, 9 September 2013


I'm not going to lie.


Maine, in summer, is heaven. It's the most perfect place on earth. Warm sunny days, cool nights. I can forgive the occasional sticky days (hey! It beats being in NYC!) and sometimes it will rain like it does in Paris, without break for days. I continue to return.


Everyone always asks me what I miss the most about living abroad. I can't honestly answer until I'm back in the states to see what I've been missing, at which point I can barely contain my enthusiasm for all things American...except for this cardboard substance they call "bread" that dares to grace my plate (alas, a lobster roll on a baguette seems just wrong. Sorry Frenchie!) I miss friends, I miss family. I miss good mexican food. I miss trying wines that aren't made in France...French wines are fantastic, but I know nothing about what lies beyond at this point as you can barely get a Barolo on a good day, never mind anything from Napa. Bourbon and cocktails that don't taste like sugar water. I miss friendly, and above all, helpful service. I miss how inventive food can be. I miss bitter greens.


But, while home, I miss about France: bread and pastries, real cheese that runs and smells and is full of bacteria and flavor, and the casual attitude surrounding alcohol and drinking in parks. What do you mean I can't sit outside and drink a glass of wine? I miss the amazing peaches and melons and plums that I can't stop eating in summer that you don't get that far north.


Anyway. Maine. Summer. It's perfect.


I generally split my time between the Southern Coast around Portland, and then the ancestral homeland in the far desolate reaches of the North woods. A perfect balance.

I don't have so many pictures of my Southern Maine adventure as a great deal of time was spent out on the kayak or on the beach and I don't have a waterproof casing for my therefore, the bald eagles go undocumented, along with dozens of other beautiful bucolic scenes. I did spy a happy whale cloud though:


Maine is the kind of place where I'll say, "oh, what a cute old building!" and upon closer inspection it will probably be a yarn/spinning/used bookstore of sorts.


I was pretty spoiled for wool this trip. A trip to the Swan Island showroom was delightful.


There were many, many blankets and soft merino yarns coveted that day. If you are going to live someplace that is inhospitable from October to May, you might as well have at least one of these thousand dollar merino blankets to see you through.


I was just so happy catching up with old friends and nibbling on the simple summer pleasures: corn on the cob, lobster rolls, clams, crabcakes, lovely wild blueberries. I have to keep reminding myself of January just to keep it real.

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