In Maine we have the Lobster festival, the Clam Festival, and the Oyster festival. We have a Blueberry Festival, a Whoopie Pie festival and a Chowder festival. Folk, Reggae and Blues Festivals? Yup. We’ve got those too. Hell… we even have the White Nose Pete Fly Fishing Festival.
For my fishing obsessed readers, the legend of White Nose Pete –
And a fond farewell was bid to our loyal 13 year old washer and dryer.
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Our laundry room is small (it used to be a spare half bath) so I was a little worried the delivery men would have a hard time maneuvering the heavy appliances in and out. Lord knows my husband and I did.
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But before I could even blink they had the old ones unhooked and out the door. Granted they didn’t have far to go, but the way they did it with these amazing moving straps that wrap around their backs, over their shoulders and under the machines?
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Fabulous!
And now I totally want a pair.
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Viola!
While the drums are slightly larger than our old set, the machines themselves are actually a bit smaller so …. weee! I have a few extra inches of floor space to play with.
I was a little hesitant to go with the charcoal grey as we’ve always had white, but it looks more like black which blends nicely with our stove and fridge.
Before…
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After.
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These things were literally twice the price of our old ones so my fingers are crossed they have a long sudsy life.
If you read part one, you’ll know I was thoroughly enjoying this thoughtfully designed new restaurant.
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The fact that it was happy hour and if you sat at the bar their speciality cocktails were half price may have had something to do with that.
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Good thing it was a beautiful slab of granite.. because my bar bills are legendary.
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These were my three choices for the afternoon starting with the Winter Lux.
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A lovely combination of tart and sweet with a seriously booze soaked cherry at the finish.
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Next up was the Sicilian Sour which I expected to be smooth and spicy but was really just a serious bolt of brightly colored bourbon. Not complaining mind you, just surprised.
Since appetizers were half price as well, I had some delightful arincini with herbed mustard sauce and pecorino crema.
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Husband went with the mussels which were served with grilled lemon, heirloom tomatoes, shallots and fennel with a garlic white wine Pernod butter sauce.
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And chickpea fritters to mop up the sauce.
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My final drinkie poo was the Cold Night Collins, a delightfully cool and crisp citrus concoction with an herbal undertone.
And because we were actually there to try the food, I chose the bucatini carbonara.
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Which unfortunately was sub par. While the pasta was homemade, the dish was dry, uninteresting and lacking in flavor. And sadly, the husband didn’t fare any better.
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Half full from all the mussels, he went light with a salad and Sicilian pizza combo. Which had to be sent back because it was stone cold and hard as a rock. And while we assumed they would make him a new one, it seems they just threw it back in the oven to reheat because on return he flipped it over to find it was black as charcoal. Our server immediately took it off the bill and offered a substitute but by that time the husband decided to skip the entree and go straight to dessert.
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Which I have to say more than made up for the lousy pizza. Tiramisu cheesecake with Kahlua. Fabulous!
And because it would be rude to let him eat sweets alone…
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Key lime crème brûlée for moi. Ooh la la! This made up for my mediocre pasta as well.
I talked to a friend the other day whose granddaughter works there and she told me they’re still experiencing the growing pains most new restaurants suffer. Help is hard to find these days and good kitchen staff can be even harder. But we enjoyed it and there was enough on the plus side for us to return.
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If nothing else, I’ll just sit at the bar and stare at the giant fish.
A sister restaurant of our go to favorite place opened recently in Falmouth and I’ve been dying to check it out.
So on a sunny late afternoon last week, we did just that.
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Welcome to the Sicilian Table.
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Like our favorite restaurant, no expense was spared when it came to interior design.
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It was bright and cheerful with lots of wood, stone, rattan and soothing neutral colors.
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It was a good sized two floor space, but offered many intimate seating choices.
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Did I mention there were giant artsy fartsy fish flying overhead?
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These bold beauties were hung here and there and were dramatic to say the least.
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I’m guessing this lighting is meant to pay homage to Maine’s coastal lifestyle by imitating jellyfish…
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This oddly placed ceramic tile wonder … yes, if you zoom in you can see they’re all individual pieces… led to the rest rooms.
And while it was a lovely restaurant inside, the location they chose struck me as odd. While it’s sister sits on the water, this place is the bottom two floors of a law office building smack on Route 1… the busiest coastal route in the state. Falmouth is a wealthy town with multi million dollar estates on the shore. This pricey restaurant will do well, but it would have been nice to have a better view from its windows than the parking of the strip mall it sits in front of.
Because I was waiting for my husband (to please stop talking and get back in the damn car!) the other day… I scrolled through my cell phone’s photo album all the way back to the beginning to find the very first pic I took.
(As of today, I have 16,999 photos there. I love technology!)
April of 2013.
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Meet Little Cheeper, a baby robin we found on our lawn after a storm. No nest or mother in sight so we adopted and raised him until he was old enough to release.
Did that little bugger poop? You betcha!
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We kept him in a cat carrier overnight, but let him fly around during the say to strengthen his wings.
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I didn’t want to hand train him as the goal was to set him free…
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But he was a sweetie who followed me all around the house.
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And helped me blog.
He was an adorable little guy, even if he did occasionally resemble a Starship Storm Trooper.
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We fed him canned dog food per the vet’s instructions, supplemented with live worms and fruit.
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Blueberries were his favorite.
All too soon (for me) it was time to let him go, and though I cried… it was the right thing to do.
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He was hesitant at first, but when he felt the gentle June breeze? He took off for the apple trees and never looked back. I kept my eye on him for a few hours as he explored our property.. but he took to the air like a pro and was gone to do what robins do soon after.
We didn’t have any specific plans for St.Patricks Day so after running a few morning errands we decided to stop at our local pub for lunch on the way home .
Appropriate beverages were consumed.
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Noticing the owner, and our favorite Scottish bartender, was slightly out of sorts… we inquired as to the reason.
Turns out he’d wanted the day off… because while most people enjoy that holiday? He hates it.
Naturally I asked why.
“Because I’m tired of everyone asking me what part of Ireland I’m from.”
Which probably explained the sentiment on his shirt.
My husband’s brother posted a few photos on Facebook after our last big snow storm.. and though he lives in a old farmhouse north of us and has a lot more property than we do? I was surprised at just how run down he looked after finishing his snow blowing.
The giant N’Or Easter predicted to slam the Maine coast came and went yesterday with admittedly high winds…. but not nearly the amount of snow they were promising.
The weathermen said a foot, we got roughly 4 inches. But it was the heavy wet crap that weighs down tree branches which then take out power lines. And at 9:00 last night?
Poof.
We woke up to darkness and no electricity today.
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Thank goodness for a fireplace. It doesn’t heat the whole house but kept the living room a toasty 63.
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And thank goodness for powerful battery operated lanterns that light up the kitchen so His Royal Highness can be fed.
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Turns out the problem was right next door where a tree fell on the main line that feeds the whole road. The power company was out early …
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As was the husband… who won’t use the snowblower when it’s heavy and wet because it clogs the auger. It was still snowing when I took the picture so his newly cleared driveway was filling back up behind him. Why didn’t he wait till it stopped?
Because we had no power, which means no satellite, which means no television. He was bored.
Thankfully the power came back on late morning and nothing in the freezer or fridge was lost. The temperature is supposed to be 48 tomorrow so it will all melt again.
I swear I have winter whiplash this season.
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The culprit. The wind lifted it right out of the ground…
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
