Skip to main content

Bar Harbor rain-tacular

I woke up this morning to the most rain falling from the sky as I've ever seen. And it's cold. Not exactly January-cold, but certainly not August-warm. Probably won't get out of the 60s today, and the rain is supposed to continue on. And on. And on. Which is harrowing to this mommy of an active 3-year-old...what the heck are we going to do today?

Yesterday was a good day, all in all, though we really didn't do very much. And it's looking like we won't be doing much today, either. But then I ask myself, why do you have to do stuff constantly when on vacation? Ah. You see. This is the conundrum of this entire week. I'm vacationing with my father, who cannot sit still, ever. (My dad wants also to re-create good memories...I'll get to that another time.) And my husband, who really only wants to sit still, always. Throw in a child who needs constant stimulation, yet still naps in the afternoon, and you've got yourself one crazy vacation stew. To me the perfect vacation mixes activity with rest, and this place offers opportunities for both, so I'm trying. Hard. To balance all these people with all these ideas of vacationing.

Right now we're watching Sesame Street. I've been up with Sweet Boy since 7:30, while everyone else slept. No problem, really, but even with three separate bathrooms in this house, you can only really take one shower at a time, then wait about 10 minutes for the hot water tank to refill. So it takes FOREVER to get everyone up and ready and out of the house. Voo wants to take us all for blueberry pancakes this morning, but it's starting to look more like a blueberry pancake lunch than breakfast. And the people who are ready are restless and grouchy, waiting for the others. Not to mention I'm trying to keep the kiddo busy. By the time we eat breakfast, we'll have to come back and take a nap. Super.

Tomorrow we will NOT wait for everyone before leaving the house. This is ridiculous. And not in a fun way.

Maybe we can hit the Oceanarium after pancakes and let Sweet Boy pet some lobsters before returning for naps. That would at least be one fun memory for him.


  1. Well, good. All those pretty pictures, interesting places, and fun adventures were starting to make me hate you. But now I see that the balance has been restored. ;)


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Grace happens

Today Honey's roommate in room 364 at Maine Medical Center was discharged. Some other day I'll tell you about why Honey is in the hospital again, but this story is about the roommate because it's way more interesting. Let's call him Elton, because all I really know about him is he plays guitar in an Elton John tribute band and he's originally from the very northern part of England, bordering Scotland. (Or as Honey described it, "that place in England where the Roman Empire decided, nope, those Celts are crazy, and put up a wall.")

Elton was in room 364 before Honey arrived, and what struck me immediately, besides his delightful accent and soothing Liam-Neeson-esque voice, was his gentle, good-natured manner. He was going through heck from a botched surgery and compartment syndrome - pain and gore and fear of losing the use of his dominant hand - yet he spoke kindly and softly to every person who came into his room. Every time a nurse walked in, Elton gree…

Boardwalk ghosts

“Imagine this, buddy, in the middle of summer, especially near the Fourth of July. Wall to wall people, just sort of moving in and out of each other. Flashing lights. Loud music. Screams from Morey’s Pier, laughter on the swirly rides. Oh...and the cream, funnel cake, fudge, cheese steaks, pizza, fries...the smells alone would drive you nuts!” 
It’s 5:00 on the evening before his Nana’s funeral, and we’re standing in a windy drizzle on an empty Wildwood boardwalk. My mind has flashed back to the summer of 1991, when I spent a week here with my best friend. Wicked sunburn. Tandem bike adventures. Water slides. Thrill rides. A ground-shaking thunderstorm. Friendship bracelets. College guys taking showers outside. Ice cream and VCR movies every night.

Back in the here-and-now I’m trying to explain to Zippy what this place is like when it’s not October. He’s been to Rehoboth and Ocean City and Old Orchard Beach, but none of those come anywhere close to Wildwood in peak season.…


Zippy and I hiked in the woods the other day, following the icy trails around Evergreen Cemetery. The cold air stung our eyes but the sun shone warm and bright, and it felt great to breathe fresh air. As he skipped and hopped and twirled beside, in front, and around me, I felt peaceful, happy, content. Until I realized the Womens' March is in a few days, I am going, and I don't know what to expect. I've never done anything like this, except for a few years ago at Occupy Philly, which was nothing compared to the numbers they're anticipating this weekend. The Women's March will be a peaceful protest, yes, but 200,000 is an awful lot of people in highly charged city during turbulent times. I felt anxiety creeping into my chest.

"So you know I'm going away this weekend, right? To Washington, D.C. For just two sleeps. Do you know why I'm going?" I asked Zippy.
"Because you don't like Donald Trump and he's going to be the President."