Birthday Parties… Don’t Just Reserve Them For Kids. Then Quit.
Life has blue sky and sunny, cloudless days and well, ones where the weather is a little stiffer, rugged.
But through it all, your family is on the same roller coaster ride. And basking together in the loving warmth through joyful celebration times. Licking wounds, recovering, healing from painful setbacks. Like when you lose a member of the family that was special, missed like a hole in your heart.
Family is important to preserve, protect. Because we’re fortunately stuck with each other. Or get adopted by another one if the one you have is not so warm and friendly. Yet.
Was lucky to be invited to a birthday party of my secretary’s mom.
Everyone likes to eat cake and socialize with friends of a family at a birthday party. But unlike the kid ones with the too tight plastic elastic that holds the colored pointed hat on, the party to celebrate a seventy five year milestone is a life long recollection. From family, friends, past co-workers and employees who all share an event, experience that the birthday boy or girl were part of in their life.
Come On, You’re Invited To Vera Butler’s Surprise Birthday Party Video.
Some folks don’t like you to know their age, would like to just forget another birthday signaling being another year old. As the life odometer rolls to another higher notch. But you come to a point where you don’t dread but embrace. And realize relationships are the most important thing to cherish, preserve, protect. Age develops wisdom for all of us. And in life as you get freed up of day to day raising kids, when they leave the nest, your perception improves. Clarity happens.
It starts with your family, the folks that have been around since you were knee high to a grasshopper.
And are slowly right on schedule dying off. But with parties, open porch get togethers and family reunions, those memory making moments never fade. I am lucky to have three older brothers, their families that care about me and vice versa. Don’t neglect, forget your family. And find someone to be part of yours and you theirs.
Maine, big state, less people, more old fashioned small town values. There is a place still like that, the way life should be.
Travel Expands Your Outlook, Improves Your Life. To Appreciate Maine More.
If you have been a regular Me In Maine blog post reader, you sense living in Vacationland is a personal high priority.
I am a big fan of this state in the upper right hand corner of the country. That borders two Canadian provinces, New Hampshire and plenty of rock bound craggy coastline with 68 Maine lighthouses.
Raising a family in Maine became an early life priority after initially thinking of leaving the pine tree state. And working my way up the broadcasting ladder after college would be the plan. I changed careers, the need to drive over the big green bridge one last time on the southern tip of Maine on Interstate 95. In my earlier desire to collect four letter call signs of outlets in bigger and bigger media markets.
I wanted to raise a family in Maine. Not out of state where the broadcasting leap frogging and dragging the kids from city to city transitioning would not have been healthy for the family. But despite never regretting staying to raise a family in Maine, a state where it is small town, honest values, four seasons unspoiled natural surroundings, travel is still important.
One Santa Monica California trip with all six kids is one of those traveling adventures.
Driving through Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive with empty street boutiques, not a soul up and at ’em was different. But vageuly familiar due to all the deja vu sights, street sign names, buildings that you would recognize like we did from exposure to television pilots, films and your favorite season show reruns.
We arrived with a van full late after touching down with the silver winged bird. Our gracious family host opened up their arms and home to help be local tour guides. And one myth that was busted quickly was that all the homes of the rich and famous movie star actresses, actors would be like the Beverly Hillbillies estate. With stone and iron gate, a long sweeping curving driveway up to the mansion.
Uncle Charlie, Aunt Linda’s home was gorgeous, spacious inside, not so much outside.
Zero lot lines, only space to park a his and her pair of cars out front. The home, all of them around it right on the street. Any extra visitors would have to park it on the street. In Maine, that would never happen. Due to healthy, abundant snow storms causing plow trucks to destroy anything not in the larger capacity driveways and big yards wrapping around our Maine buildings.
Expensive real estate around Santa Monica the reason for the closeness of homes. Larger concentrations of people than where I live with eleven people her per square mile in Aroostook County. So Jed and Granny sized properties spacing, elbow room we enjoy in Maine was not the norm around Beverly Hills California.
We got the family photo for the Christmas card with the Hollywood sign in the background.
But that was not an easy feat due to tight neighborhoods with winding, hilly, narrow streets. Many of them dead end making the Kodak moment elusive and more like a rat in a labyrinth game maze. And lots of warning signs that gave you the impression survivors would be prosecuted.
There was no place to park without pulling in to a driveway empty of cars. And hoping a black and white with the blue gum balls revolving, flashing did not squeal in on two wheels like in the cop show movies filmed on these same streets.
Venice Beach’s sights and sounds visit was an adventure too.
And so was the oldest daughter’s sudden urge to get an eye brow piercing. After seeing many interesting tats and piercings. On the colorful, attention getting characters we moved in and around on our tourist site tramping. The surroundings again more than vaguely familiar from television exposure. And also seeing actual scenes being blocked, lighted, sound staged, actually filmed outside restaurants along Venice Beach we sauntered and gawked at with the Maine family.
We did the Disney Land, Knotts Berry Farm and other tourist haunts too. With tours following a convertible Saab and a Volvo wagon with only 22,000 miles showing on the odometer. But on its third set of brake pads, rotors due to fast paced NASCAR like needle and thread driving by Aunt Linda. Who uses both feet to keep the RPMs up if an opening happened to appear for better lane positioning. To be girl scout ever ready.
Aggressive driving around other motorists that were new to the country. Many learning to drive just recently and still green but tested with their feet to the fire turnpike conditions. We buckled up, grabbed hold of something to steady ourselves. While Aunt Linda rode the brake all the time just in case the momentary slot closed up on one of the other six lanes of traffic around our silver wagon. To avoid testing the car’s auto insurance collision policy. Traffic in Maine. What traffic? (Smile).
Seeing new places with your family.
Expose yourself, kids to learn, broaden your outlook on life. To not be afraid to venture out and see how the rest of the world lives. But then to come back to a rural state like Maine to appreciate it even more. Because it is not like this here any other place on the revolving blue and green marble.
If you have a family, take trips with them on a regular basis to sample some of the glitz, sparkle of areas new and different. But also as a couple to keep exploring and meeting new people with entirely different surroundings, cultures, customs, backgrounds. And sometimes not so different values, beliefs that you and I share too.
Buckle up.
Llife’s temporary ride assignment is a short one. To be lived, fully enjoyed and experienced with loved ones you are in a relationship with that need to see what we are or are not missing in other areas of the planet. To guide our life course. To develop deeper, richer meaning and discover our purpose in life. Why we are here.
20,000 Feet And Your Wing On Fire. How Brave Are You?
In my job as a Maine real estate broker for over three decades, I am blessed with meeting tons of neat, interesting people.
It is not all talking shop, only dealing with property listings during work hours either. Helping buyers, sellers from all over creation means you are part of their lives.
Real estate buying or selling is an emotional experience.
Of joy when you saved up for, go without to purchase your first home that the babies, one after another come home to. Or sadness when a divorce or death forces the need to sell that involves suffering, pain, heart ache for all the family members struggling through the dark times.
As Nazi German soldiers, aircraft and artillery machinery poured in to Holland during World War Two, Andy Spyker heard the frightful news while at sea. A radio operator aboard a Dutch navy submarine who had to alert his skipper, the captain of his vessle of the frightening news. I learned the story in the process of taking Andy to various properties in Southern Aroostook. Before settling on the purchase of land acreage in Hersey Maine to build a well deserved retirement home on to enjoy his golden years.
There were twenty six submarines in the small country of Holland under the Dutch flag during World War Two.
Many were in port forced to surrender to the German occupation but some like Andy’s submarine out on maneuvers. And now what do we do? The leaders of the country fleeing to go in to exile and no country to go home to happening for Andy and his sub crew.
Andy sent a hurried morse code after orders from the Captain of the submarine to try to establish communications with England military forces. Unlike the other crews back at port under German occupation, Andy’s submarine could still be useful in the fight to free his mother country of Holland. Was one of the fortunate ones. Like survivors of the Pearl Harbor surprise Sunday morning attack that devastated the country when the news spread of all the loss of life.
Other Dutch naval units not stuck in port joined the Allied forces.
Andy’s submarine was instructed by Her Majesty’s Royal British Navy where to report for resupply of food, ammo, diesel fuel and for any needed maintenance repairs. Hearing the story made me think of my Dad a tail gunner in a B 24 in the same European Theatre war campaign.
Stationed in Italy and making highly successful but very dangerous day light bomb runs over Germany. Where the odds of making it back to the home airfield were about 50-50 due to precision German 88 guns. And more experienced Messerschmitt fighter planes buzzing mercilessly around your sitting duck slow loaded aircraft lumbering over the IP target bomb drop. And Dad’s plane getting shot up after one bomb run and losing altitude quickly. But managing to hobble crippled to a Balkan’s English base. Where a few days later the British picked he and his crew up. Sliding them in to another B-24 to continue their bomb runs.
I had the privledge to tour the Imperial War Museum in London England last Christmas with family and the experience hit me in a very sobering way.
Much like touring the USS Arizona Pearl Harbor Hawaii exhibit where no one talks. The V 2 rocket displays, the bomb shelter staged scenes from a gastly war made me appreciate my Dad even more. When I thought that was not possible for his, others in the war and behind the scenes in this country with their all out effort to gain peace. Stop the war, fighting.
I got the same feeling of respect for my Dad reading over letters that he and my Mom sent daily. Back and forth while over in Europe. Discovered when settling the estate and going through all the items a couple collects after sixty years of marriage, over eight years of life. The two lived in a time of lots of historic changes. Had battles bigger than our first world problems that consume society today that seem so trivial in comparison.
To end bloodshed of needless loss of life. Hug, kiss, reach out to a veteran and let him know you appreciate his dedication, sacrifice. And remember how the little things that cause drama, are so picky, minor concerns in our daily life are nothing compared to what others have gone through, endured in our families, communities.
Maine, we honor our veterans, dead or alive. Many gave some, some gave all.
Greener Grass On The Outside, Other Side Of The Fence.
Maybe the pasture is not large enough to meet the grass needs for the number of horses crowded in it.
So they get hungry, restless. Start to feel tempted and check out the neighborhood. Out west when taking the youngest to college last year and driving the red jeep called Sally. The one that four kids learned how to master the road with, Elliot and I saw a lot of wide open grass land.
Thirsty, over baked in the ceramic kiln like heat conditions unlike Maine’s weather, climate. Out west in places it takes three acres to support the four legged animals. In Aroostook County, the same cow or horse can do quite nicely with one acre due to better conditions. Less heat, more water, sometimes better soils.
More is not always better. Like life when the more we get, the more we want. Kind of like beat the buffet gluttony to get your money’s worth thinking. That habit can lead to how are you going to top that one, to get beyond same old same old to maintain fireworks life excitement.
Looking for greener grass can happen when what you have to survive on is lacking, not enough.
But unless an animal is a gypsy, renegade and just likes to take to the open road like a hobo jumping a rumbling by freight train, they stay content. In the pasture because they are getting what they need. Are peaceful, well fed. As for gratitude, not sure if cows, horses do that and will get back to you after a little more research.
People are like those animals and charging through a fence to get to something greener starts because of unmet needs. Food is a pretty basic need like air, water, shelter, family, love. Often what you are lacking can be accommodated with communication, negotiation. Or acceptance that what you expect from others is going to have to come from within yourself. Or some of the needs no one, not you, not others can provide either. Only God can.
Is your happiness external, showy, a lifestyle needing wheelbarrows of dead green Presidents to provide?
That kind of happy feeling will not last. But the inner joy that radiates from within because you have all you need, maybe not all you thought you wanted is the 180 degree direction some of us need to take. There is a turn around, reverse direction jug handle just up ahead. Get on your knees, look for it. Don’t miss the cue.
When you take a trip in to the islands and are looking for a tour guide for the day, check the van or taxi dash. You see lots of Bibles, but look for a well worn, heavily used one. That is your man.
On a family vacation trip to Jamaica, with the kid jammed van we negotiated a price, hammered out an itinerary and after beaches, shopping made one more stop. I asked if the driver would kindly drive us in to the heart of the island, away from what only the tourist see. To show us where he lives. He seemed surprised, then smiled and said sure.
Twisting, winding, narrow roads that went straight up and then the bottom dropped out of them made all of us question the logic of my request.
Other vans, taxis with “toot toot” passed us with not much more than a few sheets of paper tolerances between our door handles and mirrors. All drivers friendly, waving, honking in their own unique style, rhythm, tempo.
The “home sweet home” our driver was proud to point out had no windows, was built of odds and ends of cinderblock, mishaped dimension wood. Surrounded by a collection of other rag tag motley affair homes with the same lack of repair. Flapping rusted metal roofing challenged too many times by frequent hurricanes in the local weather forecast.
Scrawny dogs roamed the roadway. You sensed they were the villages, not any one in particular that kept track of their shots, flea collars, wormer trips to the vets. But the kids remarked, noticed that all the villagers were happy. Poor and did not know it? Or grateful for what they did have. Never lamenting what they did not.
It was not a case of ignorance is bliss.
That they did not know any different. It was because all the glitz, shiny colors and expensive hooplah, trappings were not an option. And they were freed up to dig, search deeper within themselves.
Gaining self satisfaction. Raising self esteem and gaining a sense of self worth radiating obvious joy from within out. Not expecting others around them, events to unfold for fleeting happiness from outside.
The kids noticed and pointed out that they have nothing yet the islanders have everything they need.
And despite poverty hardships, are freed up in a material sense to concentrate, focus intently on the areas of real value in life, relationships with others that all of us need.
If you are a loner, do it all yourself self contained, open up that shell. Ask for help, extend it as a good servant. Be more aware of others. Examine why that shell was created in the first place.
And about that pasture you tend. Fix, mend your own fences, tend your own pastures. Keep anything you cherish, protect under watchful eye with greater awareness of what happens if your pasture is not kept green, healthy for greater meaning out of your life of service to others. Get on your knees, water, fertilize, love it like your special personal garden for greener pastures.
Maine, the right setting to live a rich, full natural life surrounded by four seasons beauty.
The Maine Farm Barn Is The Center Piece Of The Land, Buildings Around It.
The west side of the ME farm barn had a sill kick out, needing attention.
A foundation component, something supporting anything of importance or as big as a barn is a very critical element to not neglect. Without maintenance, protecting with vital repairs the big old Maine farm barns go to their knees. That is why many have become extinct like large lumbering dinosaurs that used to roam the Earth.
But the repair, rebuilding requires you to put down whatever you are carrying. To free up your arms, open your heart and mind to study the under pinnings. To undercover what caused the barn to squat, the wall sill plate to kick out of alignment.
Because if you don’t address that wall foundation issue crying out for repair, the other three walls, roof and intrastructure all tied to it are affected.
Will go in to decline faster because all of the parts of the barn work in harmony, unity, oneness like a good marriage. Other areas of your life are like that if too much focus is on this area, none or very little on these other critical sections is not provided.
Do you measure twice, three times or more and cut once? Take, make the time to talk over with others in your life affected by a strong or weak foundation? To build or repair it together? That you need input from to seek answers to what others think is needed. The how and why of how come the foundation is crumbling, moving beyond how the original creator build it so perfectly.
Foundations put in right, protected from water seeping in around it that in a climate like Maine can freeze.
Pushing a structure apart with great brutal force need your full attention. Help from above. So do protective roof eaves that are designed to shed water away from the foundation. Or when shingles, metal coverings wear out and fail if not renewed, kept healthy, maintained begin to leak.
Seeping water can rot, decay, cause mold and mildew and create from little holes large openings from the top down if not addressed. And then eventually attacking the root of the problem, a vulnerable foundation in trouble caused from neglect, lack of loving care.
Have you spent enough time on your knees, digging, probing, removing sharp stones and rotten debris that can surround, build up around your most important foundation? To make sure proper drainage, filtering of the storm run off does not pool, fester, remain causing an under water, soggy, stagnant environment.
You need high and dry conditions in life to rest, recharge when under attack.
To keep from getting water logged or from being sucked under if it gets too deep and you no longer can touch the bottom.
I fixed the barn west wall sill the right way. Expensive up front, but an investment that will last in the long run to protect the old Maine barn. That my family has cross cabled, hurricane braced for extra support to protect the old girl. The big tall barn, the cornerstone of the entire collection of Maine farm buildings.
The repair was not done without study, thought, consideration because of the tremendous weight it is expected to support. Knowing life, weather does not get easier in Northern Maine, that you and I have to become stronger instead.
The relationship foundations you are entrusted to build, maintain, put on this Earth with the purpose of serving are sacred.
Do you put the time and attention, the initial groundwork in to them to make sure they survive, thrive?
Relationships are fragile, delicate and need strong protective skeleton bones of the building in place. Carefully hand hewn beams carved out to intricately fit together with pegs, dowel fasteners.
Made to last, with no gaps, nothing out of square and true, arrow lazer line straight. To exact tolerances engineered not to need rebuilding if treated with respect. Like the pyramids of Egypt that still stand and look like the day they were finally done after years, decades, lifetimes of effort.
When your foundation gets out of whack and you open up your heart and soul to see why.
Not retreat to blaming others in your life for sadness. Where you neglected, had blind eyes and closed ears. Missed the cues because no blue print, no couseling or education, instruction going in happened. You had no idea of how important this foundation was, needed to be to survive the storms of life.
The foundation you build your marriage, family, life around has to be planted on convictions bed rock solid. And you never getting comfortable or letting anything slide, missed that signals the warning signs you are braced for because of critical planning going in.
Take the time needed to keep that foundation you build on healthy. The one you don’t want to tear down, start over. Have to replace down the road. It needs to be kept high and dry, protected, sacred. Maine, a little more aware because we keep life simple. Revolving around what matters most… Foundation relationships with others around you.
A Brand New Arena In Houlton Maine With No Loss Of Life. Whew.
Maine parents with hockey players in the family know about dedication to their kids passionate sport.
When the Houlton Maine ice arena caved in from a too heavy snow load in 1998 much good came out of the building collapse.
First and foremost, the timing of that winter ice arena cave in is on top of my life blessings to be grateful for list.
I am so glad that my sons Elliot and Alexander’s brother-against-brother hockey game was not played. Because if Houlton Parks And Recreation Director Gary Edwards had not called it off, a local diaster, biggest area tragedy would have happened.
The two boys along with many other team players were scheduled to be center ice for the game face off and fast paced hockey offense and defensive maneuvers. At the very same time the arena collapsed, became a jumble, crumble of twisted I-beams and other building debris.
My mind can horrifically, vividly see youth hockey players, fans, coaches, family members in the stand, staff and even the referees dressed like zebras among the casualties.
I can picture over taxed funeral home directors scrambling to dig out bodies of loved ones, folks that all were at the game for one purpose. The love of a spirited hockey match up rink side.
You can not watch a hockey game sitting down either. Just for the record. And the best place to be in the game is working it. Annoucing the goals and penalties assessed for time in the “sin bin”. Keeping the books, running the clock, watching over the penalty boxes or tossing in a new puck when the game black circle goes in to the stands.
At this vantage point by the two opposing hockey teams and across from the fans, you can see, smell, hear, feel the reaction to a call.
Or witness what you don’t see in the stands that happens on the bench. Appreciating the intense hustle of your best line in the back and forth up close see saw tug of war.
How the coach keeps a lid on all the raw pumping adrenalin, emotions, tempers that flare when a player gets checked in to the boards, hooked, slashed, boarded or intentional unnecessary roughness call that gets missed. Can you say retaliation? Sure you can. I knew you could. That’s part of hockey too.
Being way way behind but the team as a unit stepping it up.
Moving their feet quicker, playing the weak side heavier, crashing the goalie. Taking full advantage of a clever pass when the other team’s defenseman player is screening, blinding the net minder wearing the same color jersey.
Playing all out with passion for the sport with the clicking lighted clock by the American and Canadian flag on each side like you are still going to win. And in some games the tustled hair, sweating players with all the expensive soon to be outgrown, passed down protective gear on do. Surprising everyone in the building as you come out in to blinding sunlight during an early morning winter morning parking lot.
That is one big take away life lesson for the team, coaches, family and fans that provides hope, dreams, stamina to stick with anything in life. Apply to your own up and down struggle of sunshine and a few dark clouds. Through thick and thin. Look for the good, stay positive and surrender to impossible situations you can not fix but God can.
The second blessing in the loss of the original Houlton Maine ice arena was it happened during a federally declared disaster.
So a big chunk of FEMA money from Washington thrown in the pot with the building insurance check meant the kids were on their way to a new arena. And with tons of donated materials, free labor the entire community of hockey fans supplied as they converged on the building project. Like Charlie Brown’s friends that came through on the scrawny pine tree.
The old arena had no ice unless Mother Nature felt sorry on the hockey program and her pity provided a sheet of natural hard surface. All to often with the old arena, the programs were stunted. At a disadvantage with other teams with artificial playing surfaces. That had weeks more “artificial ice” in their diet, running in their veins.
So back to the Me In Maine blog post title that got you in here read read reading like the wheels on the bus go round and round. I took many a 4AM trip to clear Canadian immigration going over. The same dog and pony questioning procedure on the way back coming in to Maine on the US side of the border crossing.
Our kid’s home ice for two seasons was at the Hartland New Brunswick Canada hockey arena.
Used like relatives with no place to go moving in to share your supper table. Getting a turn with the remote TV changer for a spell.
Or like a church lost in a fire that during rebuilding from the ashes up, gets a small window of time on Sunday to utilize another place of worship that offers the same Christian services. Shares the altar, organ, organist and all those pews for a non interrupted worship experience til the new church hammering, nailing is done.
Younger teams get the lousier early, early cock a doodle doo times as part of the right of passage from Mites to Midgets minor hockey league team progression.
But it is all still spending time with your kids as a parent. The kids don’t mind the time and just love the team sport of hockey. So do you as a parent with an Excursion loaded with players and gear. Some your own kids, always a few stow aways on board.
I had the best talks with my sons Alexander and Elliot on the hockey circuit. All six soap box derby racing. Or skiing kids where the same things happens on a lift after every run. And after a hard fought hockey win, lose or tied game, listening to the laughter. Banter because of a victory, a championship title trophy.
Or the licking their wounds and admitting they got beat by a team that was more talented, disciplined or just plain outskated them. Worked harder at practice. That was apparent to all in the arena witnessing the game from the drop of the first face off puck. All the way to the two over times, the final buzzer after three periods of back and forth, could go either way see saw ice battle.
Hockey is a family sport with a big boost of finances and time year round from parents.
A little more effort because unlike basketball gyms, tennis courts, or baseball diamonds that most communities have, ice arena require travel. They don’t grow on trees. Every area is not blessed with an arena like we are so proud of in my home town of classy Houlton Maine.
Houlton Hodgdon Blackhawks Beat Bangor ME Rams Hockey Team Video
Hockey, like skiing that all the kids enjoyed from the time they were wee little, is a sport for life. My two boys played hockey on the college level. And all those early morning trips to Hartland New Brunswick Canada when we had no local arena, the summer camps, Houlton Hodgdon Blackhawk hockey weekend games at the Alfond rink where the Maine Black Bears play.
Maine, kids get a great upbringing and most of it involves activities out doors. Not parked in front of the electric babysitter. And parents put them first, have fun raising them along with the rest of the village.
