Skip to main content

Time to go home

I'm sitting here at 11:30 pm, the last night in Bar Harbor. Everyone's asleep. Sweet Boy looked at me in the car on the way back to the house, after I asked him to stay awake until we got home, "but I had such a good day, and I'm so tired, I want to just sleep a little bit here." Gotcha, kiddo. I feel the same way. It was a good day, and I'm so tired. But I don't really want to go to sleep because when I wake up, vacation will be over. And we were just starting to have fun! (Not to mention, I don't even want to think about the 14-hour car ride...oh, my aching back.)

Today was the best weather day we've had all week, so we crammed in as much of Acadia as we could handle. Which really wasn't much, but it was good for us: Cadillac Mountain summit, Otter Point, Otter Cove, a quick drive around the Park Loop road, then into Somesville to visit the Port in the Storm bookstore (which we've driven by hundreds of times before, and I always say I want to go in there, so we finally stopped). We relaxed for, oh, about 40 minutes, then went back into Bar Harbor to eat dinner at Rupununi, and we wandered around the shops looking for souvenirs and gifts for family.

This late-evening wander seems to be a new tradition with my family. It's like we're all searching every storefront for that one thing that will signify all that this place means to us...but somehow there's no such thing, so we settle for a t-shirt. Usually a "Cool as a Moose" or "Life Is Good" t-shirt, another of which I bought tonight. Only this one is the "Cool as a Moose" logo with the "Life Is Good" motto...two birds with one t-shirt, how convenient. And it was on sale -- bonus.

It's been a good week, all in all, even with the rocky patches. The best times were the times we were all together, sitting around at the cabin or at dinner. Go figure. I don't know when we'll be back, although I know it won't be next summer. And probably not the summer after that, either. Perhaps we'll venture back downeast when Sweet Boy is old enough to hike alongside me, instead of on a leash or on my shoulders. I hope he'll have happy Acadia memories someday, like the rest of us do. This week his favorite thing was throwing rocks at the water. Which is just as good as anything else, I suppose. (He's going to have a tough time next week without his Uncle Nate, too. Oh, how he adores you, Uncle Nate!)

OK. Time to go to sleep. Goodnight, Bar Harbor. Sweet dreams, Acadia. Thank you for always being such a good host.

when hiking on the rocks on the side of a mountain, it really is best to keep the 3-year-old on a leash.


  1. Aww, I'm sorry it's over, but glad you had a great time! I'm always bummed when it's over, too. But you had to come back sometime -- Christy and I need our third amigo.


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…

Math lessons

I was really great at school as a kid...but I'm really lousy at school as a parent. And I was reminded once again of this while sitting at my son's conference yesterday.

Seventh grade has been hard on all of us. Beyond the obvious physical changes -- Happy has grown at least 5" since this summer and now looks me in the eye (yeah, remember I'm super tall!), his voice is weird, he can't get out of his own way -- we're all trying to navigate his ever-changing need for independence. His teachers want him to take more responsibility for his learning, which in theory sounds like a great plan for all kids at this age; they have to not only learn how to learn but also learn how to advocate for their learning.

In reality, though, when you're the world's most laid-back 12-almost-13-year-old who really only wants to listen to music, play drums, video games, and action figures, taking responsibility and advocating for your learning is not highest priority. In fact…

Happy curls?

I dreaded the passing of the peace each Sunday when I was a little girl. Every week the old church ladies would comment about my hair...
    "Shirley Temple curls!" they cooed; I didn't know who Shirley Temple was.
    "So soft!" they petted; I didn't want their wrinkly, gnarled fingers on my head.
    "I pay a lot of money to have hair like yours!" they exclaimed; I couldn't figure out why anyone would pay money for frizzy, fluffy, brillo-pad hair.

I hated my curls. I felt embarrassed by my hair -- it was short, kinky, cut badly -- quite different from the long straight hair my friends all wore at the time in my life when I just wanted to fit in. Oh, how I wanted a ponytail! Or a braid my hair on a Sunday morning with ribbons hanging down, that was a dream.

Today during the passing of the peace, I found myself next to one of the older ladies in our church. Every week I marvel at her elegance, the way the dresses, the slow and grace…