I harbor this secret (or not so secret, given my fascination with shows like Gilmore Girls) desire to move to a small, quaint town, where I can gossip with the local color in the post office and go shopping in a teeny market instead of a big grocery store. This fantasy almost always takes place in my head in New England, where I sit by a fireplace (that’s probably in an old-fashioned woodstove) at night and do outdoorsy things during the day like hiking and skiing.
This fantasy has its basis in my Aunt Carol, who actually did live that life in a small town in Vermont for most of her adult life. She’s since moved from that Vermont town to far choicer digs: a GORGEOUS house (mansion? homestead?) on Islesboro, an island accessible by ferry off the coast of Maine. Every time I visit I think, “Huh. I should really move here. Then I’ll eat all-natural foods and probably learn to like seafood.” Of course, every time I mention this my mother reminds me that I’ve only ever visited Maine in summer when it is BEAUTIFUL, and maybe I should come sometime between October-April to decide for sure. Fair point, mother.
While my fantasy of living in that small town may never come true, I did get the chance to visit for a getaway from Boston. Enter unbelievably gorgeous weather and, even better, FOOD that didn’t come from a dining hall! My aunt and uncle were hosting “camp” for all of their grandkids so I got some veritable kid-wrangling and QT with my cousins and stepcousins (once removed, that is!).
Feast your eyes, friends:
First things first – this house. The view from the living room (one of my many reading perches) at sunset… the exquisite details in my bedroom flooded with sunlight… and most importantly, the beautiful view out the window that was the first thing I saw every morning when I opened my eyes. Not a bad way to live.
After I finally managed to roll out of bed and close the book (and the laptop… gotta work like a dog before departure!), I went for a walk along the bay. Not too shabby, eh?
But the things that made me most breathless were undoubtedly the beautiful sunsets over the water. I never quite understood the image of a “painted sky” until I sat outside as night fell in Maine.
And of course, the most valuable part of my experience – spending time with my family and getting to know the littlest members: my cousins/stepcousins-once-removed. A moment of peace now means spending time with my aunt and uncle to watch the little ones kayak across the bay as the sun set over the water, with the oldest boy grabbing life vests for his littlest girl cousins to join him in his canoe.
Oh, Maine… I will be back.