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The plastic was attached to one of the greenhouses across the road the other day, and then…
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We had a wind driven rain.
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Which made for an interesting show.
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It was almost hypnotic.
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And proved a little more attachment work was needed.
🥴
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Our final stop on the Island was an old friend’s farm.
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We got the grand tour and enjoyed hearing his vision for a self sustaining future going forward.
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This is a Katahdin sheep.
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They don’t require sheering and shed their own coats.
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During the long days of lockdown my friend built a Covid Cab…
Boredom is a terrible thing.
🤣
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We’re examining bees here.
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After meeting the scarecrow it was off to the barn…
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Built entirely from wood, the old fashioned way.
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The $200k price tag made me gasp, but it was the contents that made my husband’s dreams come true.
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I knew the minute we walked in we’d be missing the 4:00 boat.
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It’s a tool museum you see…
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And my husband was in rusty metal heaven.
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He and my old friend have a lot in common.
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Did they talk?
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Did they ever.
😊
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My husband would have been happy to spend all night there, but we had a boat to catch.
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⛴️
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Here’s a drone shot of a section of our farming neighbor’s property. It was so pretty I thought I’d share.
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I’m in awe of all those perfectly aligned weeded garden beds.
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In case you ever wondered what type of finish you should be using.
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A local Maine man who did well for himself and ended up owning half his town’s businesses just implemented this program. Free food for school age children. Proof positive there are still good people in this world.
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As you know, once we install new living room floors I’ll be shopping for new furniture. And while the husband is fine with replacing the couches, armchairs and coffee tables he started mumbling that we really didn’t need to update the dining room table and chairs we’ve had for almost 40 years.
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I beg to differ.
🤣
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A new medical study has revealed women who have frequent and long lasting hot flashes… read, me… are at a greater risk for heart disease and stroke. Women who have frequent night sweats… read, me… are at a greater risk for dementia.
So that’s it.
I’m doomed.
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My vinyl collection is calling for a few more vintage whisky/beer crates so I twisted the husband’s arm and we spent a day antiquing. (You know that’s a lie. He was probably warming up the car while I was still in the shower)
On the way we had lunch at a little farm to table cafe housed in what used to be the Home for the Feeble Minded. It was uninspiring, so no photos. But the grounds at what is now Pinelands Farm are impressive.
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As is their endless mile of fencing.
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Our first stop was a store in a barn. And a beautiful barn it was.
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On the grounds of the owner’s home, it was a lovely place to shop.
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I like our man cave, but found myself knee deep in vintage barn envy at this two hundred year old gem.
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Two full floors of treasure but no wooden crates.
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I was tempted to come home with the Special Scintillator…
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If for no other reason than the name. But the husband vetoed that purchase.
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Onward…
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We recently discovered a branch of my husband’s family owned a farm in a nearby town back in the day. A long lost relative even showed us a picture.
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Interested in the history, I did some research to try to find its exact location.
Due to my superior sleuthing, I found it.
Problem is, I was 70 odd years too late.
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In the town’s historical society, I found this picture of it burning to the ground in 1951.
Shame, that. It looked like a lovely place.
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Last weekend I was reading on the barn porch, enjoying the view of the neighbor’s farm…
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And of our other neighbor walking by….
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When suddenly my view changed.
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Because the husband decided it was time ( after I bugged him for 7… Yes, 7 years. ) to put up a gutter.
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I’ll spare you the four hour nightmare of angles, cutting, bracketing, ladder placement and yes a good bit of cursing as well…
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And get right to the cute stuff.
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A baby woodchuck.
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Make that two baby woodchucks. It’s summer and the little scampers are peaking out from under the barn. Totally adorable. And much more fun to watch than this…
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Especially since the gutter leaked like Hell the first time it rained.
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The other day we drove almost 2 hours to look at a used pool table. It was a piece of junk and we had to drive almost 2 hours back. Funny how that works. So when I saw a sign that said Pies! Pies! Pies! I knew we had to stop.
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At an adorable little store on a lovely 40 acre farm.
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Yes, a mother and her 15 year old home schooled daughter run the entire farm by themselves. Please note all work is done by horse and ox. Maine women are nothing if not capable.
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The store was filled with the fruits of their labor. Jams, jellies, relishes, honey, pies, wool, dried flowers, wreaths, maple syrup, soap… and yes. Everything was made by their own hands.
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And this wasn’t some run down ramshackle operation. It was lovely, well kept and clean.
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When my husband opened the upright freezer and saw it was packed with pot pies, quiches, turkey soup, mushroom ravioli, pesto, and minestrone he asked the girl when they found time to sleep.
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Jam came home with us. As did some soap, some soup and of course…..
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Pie.
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Which instead of a traditional crust had a marvelously buttery and flaky rolled pastry foundation.
Pie.
It’s what’s for dinner.
And maybe breakfast.
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If we’re ever able to travel freely again? This might have to make my bucket list of go to now or die.
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What! I can sip the nectar of the Gods with one of their most glaring screw ups?
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I totally need to go.
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My most ardent hope is that they have a wombat. You know those guys let loose after a beer or two.
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I’m not sure standing in a pool with otters in a crate technically qualifies as swimming with an otter… but there may be wombats so I’ll over look the misleading description.
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There we go. The main attraction…. Chardonnay with sloths. These creatures move so slowly in the wild mold actually has time to grow on their fur.
If that’s not the very definition of my spirit animal, I don’t know what is.
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Maine people have always known how to work around the weather. And though this winter has been mild compared to previous years, Covid restrictions have required businesses to use their imaginations like never before.
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Pineland Farms started life as a state run institution for the “idiotic and feeble minded” in 1907. Many horror stories floated out of those buildings, some from my cousin who worked there with mentally handicapped children in the late 70’s. It was closed in 1996 due to scandal and rumors of unsatisfactory care and has since undergone an amazing transformation.
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Nature trails, event weddings, a farm cooperative and store. They sell the beef they raise and the produce they grow. They make wonderful cheese and have a tasty little restaurant.
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But now?
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They have life sized snow globes as well.
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What’s not to love?
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Sadly, the goat is still on the loose.
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Updates are posted every few days on our town’s Facebook page.
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It’s become a bit of a hoot.
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Apparently this goat was given to the owners a few weeks ago and as soon as they opened the pen to transfer it to their yard… it ran off. They’ve tried putting out food, luring it with other goats and even set up a warm shelter near where it’s been spotted… but nothing works. It runs from everyone who tries to catch it.
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In 2020, this is what passes for hard news in my town.
Ya gotta love it.
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River's world..... 