A beautiful summer day in Maine requires a trip to the coast.
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And one of our favorites places is Boothbay Harbor.
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It retains its quaint old fishing village vibe despite being over run with tourists during the season.
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Parking is a nightmare.
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But the scenery divine.
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A walk across the footbridge is a must.
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As it has its very own house.
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Talk about waterfront property.
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It’s been many different things over the years.
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Right now I think someone’s summer home.
Not much in the way of privacy, but to each their own.
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Since we had friends coming up from Connecticut that week we decided to give a restaurant near the bridge a test run.
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Everyone wants to eat on the water when they visit so we sampled the Harborside 1901 Bar and Grille.
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I’d heard great things…
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And the craft cocktails didn’t disappoint.
The Man-Go Mojito – rum, lime, mango puree, mint, sugar, soda was fabulous. Light, minty, and bursting with fresh, ripe mango.
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The teriyaki dumplings app? Overcooked, dry and pretty tasteless. Husband’s lobster bisque? Puréed, with no discernible meaty bits.
Boo to that.
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As for Harborside… technically it was. But your immediate view is a parking lot which stretches the “waterfront” marketing.
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Cocktail #2?
The Strawberry Elderflower – vodka, St. Germain, lemon, strawberry, prosecco
Floral and fruity, perfect for summer.
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Since we weren’t overly impressed with the appetizers, we opted for salads. Which to be honest were nothing special.
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They looked better than they tasted with the husbands apple and pistachio having little to no dressing and my Caesar positively drowning in it. The grilled chicken on both was over cooked and tough.
Nice drinks aside, we’re crossing this place off our list.
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But not before I helped myself to a Grateful Dead coaster for the man cave/Barn Mahal collection.
As promised, my father’s work that’s currently hanging on our walls. Please pardon the weird angles, I was trying to avoid glare and reflections.
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I thought I had two from Op Sail ‘76 currently hanging, but it’s just this one on rotation now. I believe that’s the Russian ship in the foreground and the Portuguese in the rear.
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View from our house on the Island.
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French chateau.
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View from our house on the island.
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There was originally a pair of these but my father had the other one out of its frame for a short period and the dog peed on it.
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Indian Beach and Division Point on the Island.
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Early pen and ink sketches from 1935.
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Port Clyde, Maine.
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Lobster boat
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A handful of wildflowers my late mother had picked and stuck in a water pitcher one summer. Not a great work, but sentimental for me .
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Hawaii, when my father was at Pearl Harbor during WWII.
Remember when my husband bought an antique wagon two years ago?
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The one he had to build an extension on our shed to house?
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The shed extension I had to paint?
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The extension he built a door on last year but never finished?
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Well yours truly got tired of staring at bare wood and picked the hottest day of the summer to remedy that.
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Painting carefully around the hinges?
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Not fun.
Painting carefully around the handle?
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Less fun.
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But even less fun than that?
Wanting to finish … but discovering we had no white exterior trim paint.
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One lousy board from completion I quit and retired to the shade of the barn porch.
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Where my husband joined me, poured a beer and told me he’s thinking about selling the antique wagon.
The one he simply had to have.
The one that’s only been displayed on the lawn a handful of times because he won’t leave it out in bad weather or overnight and it’s a pain in the *ss to maneuver in and out of the shed extension.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
But I am a little annoyed.
And full to bursting with unvocalized I told you so’s .