Life as it should be

 

Here is a panorama video of the view off the deck of my house that is for sale, 179 Friendship St., Waldoboro, Maine. 

In case you can't play videos, here are some still shots:

#179 Friendship St. barn and house are on the far right.

Medomak river valley --
view from kitchen, dining room, deck,
two bedrooms, and attic!

Dining room end of the kitchen.
In the winter, I put an easy chair
before that stove.

Sun room, southern exposure.

Finishing touch to repainting.

The neighborhood.

Russian iris in the rock garden.

Deck living.

Back yard and view in winter.

A "soft morning" along the Maine coast.

Midcoast Maine is a great place to live:  mild, 4-season climate; lots of educational and cultural activities.  You can catch the bus to Boston right in town, but you also can disappear into the country.

See MLS# at top of posting.

On Being from Maine

In my case, being from Maine includes:

 . . . Having relatives who fish. Here are sister-in-law Elaine and her great-nephew James, at a family swimming hole on the St. George river.

 . . . Loving natural events, like golden late afternoon sun penetrating fog along the Medomak river.

 . . . Developing an eye for the night sky, still visible in much of its complexity from much of Maine.

 . . . NOT going south in mud season.

Ditto.

 . . . Cooking outside, in a stone fire ring. The hot dog and marshmallow chef here is my friend Amelia.

 . . . Appreciating FREE STUFF (in this case, giving extras away).

 . . . Being a life-long water sprite. In this case, listening to the lapping of wavelets on Damariscotta lake.

 . . . Attending hometown events, this one the parade opening Waldoboro Day 2010. Waldoboro was "Home of the 5-masted Schooner" -- a short-lived, 19th C technological wonder.

 . . . Living outdoors as weather and bugs may allow.

 . . . Taking grandchildren to beauty spots. Here is Gavin at "Fairy River's Edge."

 . . . Having an attic -- in my case, two! This one being the barn attic, nearly cleared of cultch.

Things that do appear -- or did appear -- to awaken an ordinary day.

Surprise! A storybook bride on the ledges at Pemaquid.

Mushrooms spring up from the arid roadside turf
along Friendship Street, Waldoboro, Maine

London phone box springs up
in a Newcastle, Maine, meadow.
Roy Barnacle photo

Messing about in boats

Mom and daughter, just in off the water.

There's more to say and show about the Old Stone Bridge, but it's the turn of the Medomak today.

The photo of Rachel and me is blurry, a hand-held selves-portrait, taken at the close of day. We had just been out in the red canoe.  Midcoast Maine is plenteous in opportunities to mess about in boats.

Waldoboro lies at the Medomak's head of tide. A series of waterfalls bisects the town and transforms the river from a small, swift, woodsy freshwater stream into a broad, brackish estuary. Putting in here, at the town landing, sets one up for boating among great blue heron, cormorants, and the occasional exploratory seal.  Putting in at the top of the falls, perhaps in the town picnic park, sets one off upstream, under the low route 1 bridge. A few strokes of the paddles brings your craft past the back door of Smeltzers' funeral and cremation business, housed in a log cabin. Then behind a hairdresser's, then past Waldoboro's work-out center. Now, the trees close in overhead and the hum of Route 1 traffic fades. If it's late in the day you may be treated to the attentions of a sturgeon, leaping out of the water (always in the direction you are NOT looking) and slapping the surface. By the time you turn your head at the loud Thwack, the fish has sunk out of sight. I don't know if they play this way with fishermen. I still have the large feathers we picked off the water after we disturbed a wild turkey perched on an overhanging bough.  Although I've never canoed that far, I know that eventually the Medomak becomes too rocky for my tame version of messing around in boats.

There's a lot more that can be said about the Medomak, about its lower reaches that bring one to the Gulf of Maine and about its glory days of wooden ship-building and commerce. Tomorrow is another blog. Or maybe this afternoon!