Friday, June 10, 2011

Photo Friday: Southern Coast of Maine

I’ve always had this little love affair with Maine. It may be the remoteness of the state, the harsh climate, or perhaps it’s through my dad’s happy childhood memories relayed to me. However, it very well may be that this love affair has manifested through my obsession with blueberries as 90% of the nations blueberry crops come from Maine. Regardless of the origins, in my mind, Maine is filled with lobster shacks, dense forest, scenic lakes, seaside enclaves, and lots of Adirondack chairs – a romantic picture indeed.

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A couple of weeks ago, my little family plus my parents flew to Boston, and made the short trek up to York, Maine to watch my cousin tie the knot. Since the wedding wasn’t until Saturday evening, we decided that morning to explore the southern Maine coast.

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Our first stop was beautiful Kennebunkport, best known as the summer residence of former presidents George Bush and George W. Bush. And being Daisy’s first time to the Atlantic ocean, I couldn’t resist a trip to the beach.

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This classic New England resort town maybe filled with bluebloods, but it has also been blessed with fantastic beaches.

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Of course, being born in the Zodiac sign of Pisces and her symbol is a fish; Daisy is in her element in the water…at any temperature. She splashed her hands and feet in the water, and played in the sand. Although, she wasn’t too sure of the waves.

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We drove around and around and around trying to spot the Bush complex, known locally at “41.” While we did eventually track it down, the heavy fog and high security made it nearly impossible to see anything (not that they are in residence until August), but still.

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Further north, the coast becomes more varied and prone to peninsulas, harbors, inlets and islands. We drove up through to Biddeford pool, a tiny (read: tiny) seacoast village about 3 miles north of Kennebunkport, and is the site of Maine’s first recorded settlement, Winter Harbor.

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The fog stayed with us all morning and coupled with the abandoned seaside towns created a bit of an haunting feeling - like being in a Stephen King novel - as most of the tourists and summer visitors don’t take up residence until after Memorial Day.

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Of course, I refused to leave the coast of Maine until I got my hands on a lobster roll - fresh lobster meat mixed with a bit of mayonnaise and lemon and served on a grilled white bun (every bit delicious as it sounds).

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The sun finally made an appearance for our outdoor lunch, and stayed with us until minutes before the wedding (read: during Daisy’s naptime). 

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The next morning we hit up The Stolen Menu Cafe with their amazingly huge melt-in-your-mouth blueberry pancakes and fantastic omelets, to which J declared, “the best hangover food.” I am trying to describe how delicious the food was, but I can only come up with the classic clich├ęs, so instead I will say that the food was so good that after I tasted my first bite I forgot how agonizingly long the wait was. 

Overall, this was a fantastic trip, albeit very quick. Maine, you didn’t disappoint, and I will be back. However, I long to visit in late September when apple-picking and leaf-peeping are on the agenda, along with a stay in a quaint B&B with a roaring fireplace.

*All photos taken with my iPhone 4 and processed with the Camera+ app because when traveling with a toddler you need to have the least amount of stuff around.

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

The steps of a toddler

Have you ever had one of those weeks that never seems to end? I do not mean that in a bad way, really. Sometimes it just happens, you know? It’s only Wednesday, and yet I’m ready for Friday. I am blaming Memorial Day Weekend. Having a nice relaxing three-day weekend usually causes ruckus during the following four-day work week. Also, I blame end-of-semester fever, as this is the last week of classes: i.e.: the last week of lectures and the grading is finally coming to an end. Well, until summer school starts in two short weeks.

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In other news, Daisy started walking over the long weekend. She just stood up on her own, without using anything to pull herself up, and took six steps away from me, pivoted, and returned to me for a hug and a kiss. I felt like learning to walk was such a never-ending process. Crawling, cruising, more cruising, falling, wobbling, falling, and then, bam! she’s walking. And now, I feel like it really wasn’t so long, just a matter of weeks, a blink of an eye, a heartbeat really. 

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Of course now, anywhere we go, Daisy insists that she WALK. For heaven’s sake mother, put me down, I can walk BY MY SELF her toddler-speak cries and wriggling squirms tell me. Which means that my morning run to the post office, which should have taken 10 minutes, instead took 45. Welcome to Toddler-hood.