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Spring In Maine, We’re Still Shoveling Snow.

Plenty of snow in Maine, this past winter’s polar vortex brought lots to the party.

Maine, Outside, Another Season. Just Dressed Different.
And as spring crocus, daffodils, hyacinths get the nod “you’re on, up and at ’em”, green red and other color canoes get dug out. Pulled from dusty garages. Or returned from whoever borrowed them after your kids went down a swollen Maine river last. It’s time to come home. Begin again with the rebirth of a Maine spring.

We are shoveling the large banks of Maine snow along hot black top driveways, parking lots to speed up the melting.

To splay the low quality snow banks. That are more like reject, low grade snow cone stock peppered with rocks. Over the warm pavement to hurry up the spring’s arrival in Maine. The transition not happening fast enough as the sun shines warmer, brighter high over head.

Mud season, drying out, firing up cellar sump pumps to give Maine spring thaw run off from winter snow water a better place to go. Then inside where nothing good comes out of the liquid visit. That can get high enough in unattended Maine homes to drown out the furnace.
Pick Your Outdoor Pleasure. Maine Has Them All. Spread Over The Four Seasons.

Seeing your Maine neighbors out walking, talking, biking.

Taking cans, bottles from winter to the redemption center. Swamp out the family vehicle that looks battle weary from a long Maine winter.

Visits to the LP gas refilling center. For the cylinder swap of the empty tank for a full little piglet to fire up the outdoor BBQ.

Now you’re cooking with gas Bub. It’s all good.

Here.. (handing spatula, cook’s apron, the chef’s lid). To season, tenderize, sizzle whatever is on the menu good to eat tonight. Make mine rare enough to still moo, twitch please. Pink, cold center, juices oozing. Flash seared, blackened, sealed on the top, bottom, sides. Sure, you can make yours over done, shoe leather. Knock yourself out.

The Kenduskeag Canoe Race is next weekend, April 19th in the Bangor Maine area. The Meduxnekeag River Canoe Race is May 3rd. Here is the round up of the Maine canoe, kayak race schedule. If you want to be out on the white water, on the circuit to get in shape for summer living.

Grab your paddle, before it is time to latch on to the garden rake to rearrange the rocks from the Maine winter sand plow truck handiwork.

Celebrate spring in Maine. Hitting the garden and trade shows around the Pine Tree State.

The Maine kids planning for Easter egg hunts, church papeants. Getting bikes upgraded, fixed. Pan cake flat tires blown up. With your help Dad or Mom remove the training wheels. Or later for the it’s time for the really large step. To sure, look both ways. But you are big enough now, responsible. Can leave the yard. Ride with your friends to the corner store up the street for a treat. To the dairy bar for a soft serve twist of today’s favors. To feel like king of the small Maine town tooling around the downtown. Hoping you see someone you know to wave at and grin ear to ear. Or to beeline to the skate park with the board bungie corded to the handlebars. To shake off winter cabin fever on the slide, leaps and revolutions.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 12, 2014
My Brother Stephen Is A Maine Clotheshorse.

Wanting, needing to be fashionably correct. Taking the time to make sure everything is pressed, accessorized just so with his clothing.

Yup. My older by ten years eldest brother Stephen is a clotheshorse. The fashion bug, the being “in”. Leading the trends in what to wear started back in the halls of a Maine high school.

As a little shaver wearing red PF Flyers, Jumping Jacks sneakers or whatever brand the Boston Shoe Store peddled, I remember my brother Stephen getting ready.
I Shoulda, Did Buy It When I Saw It At Mardens.
Running an ironing board for the next day what to wear. Mom did a fine job with the four boys on all scores. Keeping the clothing department in our rooms clean, mended, ironed and tidy. But Stephen had above and beyond exacting standards to meet. To keep and make sure those creases and pleats were razor sharp perfectly pressed.

The loafers spit polished as if a large surly drill sargeant with a chip on his shoulder was stationed in our Maine farm house just outside of town.

That was battle ready to pounce. Going to shout drop for fifty soldier if “I can’t see my pretty self in the reflection of your highly polished shoes private”.

The hair on the top of his head always combed, arranged just so. Ready for action. Looking his best as if coiffed by an on location full time trained stylist. Ready, willing, waiting in the dressing set trailer. Who’s only job was to maintain “the look” for the “action, quiet on the set people”. The crack of the electronic scene clapper time recorder. “Roll ’em. Now throw yourself into the parts, the characters with feeling. We have sound”.

Girls in high school were the sport for a healthy Maine teenage boy.

He liked to be the target, in the cross hair scope of their affections, attention, flirtations. Knowing Monday if he had the family car for a date this weekend was priority one to establish early on. And if the answer was not the affirmative, tension in the house happened. He needed to know what to plan for, schedule at the end of the week. The parental tone of “it depends on what kind of week you have Stephen” car key dangling tease did not pacify. Did zip to help calm or appease the situation. As I ate my meat and potato, chop suey, whatever farm supper with three brothers. Observed, heard, felt the back and forth conversation that could get over heated and cause ear steam pretty quickly.

The enjoyment from looking dapper has not dropped away, ebbed in my oldest brother’s life today. Working in a Bangor Maine office setting in a management capacity. He sports an impressive, deep arsenal of clothing horsepower. Still the clotheshorse but not outdated with what just what worked a few decades back either. That qualified as today’s look for the time.
First Handheld Cub Reporter’s Recorder. Cell Phone? Or Is That A Graham Cracker?

When I spend the night, am watching a movie in the guest room before the Sandman arrives, I notice a closet with not a handful of dress shirts.

I share the room with racks and stacks of clothes. We are talking every color, all neatly pressed and hung at attention. Waiting to be put into service. The extra racks like stores use with rows to hold more dress clothes selection.

Ties, I guess there are ties. For every conceivable color and patterned combination. All the holidays to compliment the rest of what he girds himself with to hit the day running. Looking spiffy neat and pressed and “with it” like a fashion plate.

Conservatively thirty men could outfit themselves handsomely with a divide the spoils approach to the stock pile of clothing inventory. To the wardrobe “Uncle Stephen” to my kids has amassed. It’s that deep and expansive. If clothes were a heart’s card game, you could say he took, had all the tricks in succession. Shot the moon and back several times.

Walk-in closets would love my brother Stephen.

They would feel like one of the most useful areas of his home. Very necessary and ten hut ready to be put into action. An integral part of the Maine household.

Today the ironing board is stilled used a lot, preparations the night before are exercised to be boy scout prepared. Mom would be proud of the clotheshorse that still practices the craft in the Queen City. Who has more blazers, slacks, sweaters, cowboy boats, dress shoes, tires, shirts than most mortal men. He played in several local Maine music bands over the years too. So the wardrobe is not just for the office boardroom meetings.
In Maine We Dress Warm First, Stylish Second.
But is way way broader than that. With an upscale country western twang flair showing. That allow the snake skin boat collection to mosey into the day to day in the cross fire of what to wear back and forth applications.

I like clothes too. But not quite bitten as deeply, to the bone by the needle and fabric thread bug. Recently cruising through the local Marden’s found a real bargain (Pronounced with a Downeast drawl “BAR-ginnn”) that was under 8 bucks.

Wool blend, extremely well tailor made with all the extra pockets, silk stitched lining. A matching dress suit of brown fine herring bone that fits like a glove. Mainers like a good trade to put a spring in their step. To free up hard earned money for other things in their life. To have left over for savings for those rainy days, fun activities, luxuries like groceries, kid’s braces and prom dresses.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 10, 2014
You Are Not Going To Like What I Have To Tell You.

What I am about to share with you, brace yourself, it may be something you just don’t want to hear.

I have got some bad news to deliver. You better sit down. Not sure how to begin to tell you this.

How does that Maine blog post lead in with the H1 bracketed amplification emphasis hit you? Do you tighten up, look away? Wondering what the frig is this all about? You definitely don’t feel like wait for it, wait for it, here it comes.
Flak Happens, Bad News Comes In Lots Of Forms.
Something pleasant, light, airy with a delightful easy to swallow bounce to it. Bright, warm and fuzzing is not the expectation right?

Somebody has died. There’s been an accident, many people seriously injured. The IRS audit team just called.

There’s a registered letter dodging you like a deputy needing to serve you with some legal papers. Or you can sense it is going to be like the “you wait until your father gets home” as a kid. Or a lecture about “now you’re done it, smooth move wedge head” is about to begin. Run for cover. No, you don’t have to sit in the corner or go to your room. Because you’ve done nothing wrong to feel guilty about right? (Pause) I can’t see your eyes. (Pregnant pause) Right?

The older I get, the more I like blunt people.

No punches pulled. Straight forward, no manure spread around the dance in the conversation. No bottle whitened pearly teeth flashed in straight formation while a pitch is delivered. The knife of there has to be a catch slipped between two ribs. Or arm twisting to make you reach for your wallet, purse suggested.

What are you selling? They want something, are peddling some product or service.
Your Neighbors Four Legged, Furry, Curious, Shy.
No arm around my shoulder to pull me close and make me think the guy or gal talking is genuinely just glad to see me. Unless a true family or long time friend. And not out of the blue needs to talk with you about the circles, pyramid, being a seller of soap products and other whiz bang gotta have items.

Straight forward conversation comes from someone busy and as if words cost twenty dollars a piece.

Chose wisely young Jedi and trust the force that is strong within you grasshopper remarked with grandparent wisdom tone style. Candor, being candid does not set well with everyone in the audience. Maybe not enough people are and go apathetic. Or the extreme of don’t want to offend anyone so don’t look at me for any opinions on any topic whatsoever.

Because there are folks that just don’t take very well any constructive criticism or differing opinions. You are with them or against them. Friend or foe happens. It can be the way you and I are judged, labeled. White or black hat wearing. Or some times it depends on the day for the color you see. Like you are a loose cannon. Not sure how they feel with you at the moment and gotta get back to you on that one.
How To Cook Up A Happy Household, Create A Happy, Responsible Family Member.

A friend of mine was a Maine junior high soccer coach.

Kai is a straight shooter. Not just in the job as a now retired US Border Patrol guy wearing green with a 223 rifle. Or out hunting. But in his approach to life. Say it like it is and please return the favor so we are on the same at ease solider wavelength. He has to wear a hat. Doesn’t pick or care about the color. Is his own boss so to speak. Right behind Tina.

A mother was on his back during a winning season where his soccer team did not lose a game. But she was unhappy with him as coach. He was not playing Jimmy, Joey, it does not matter the name. Whoever he was, spending way way too much time on the bench. Developing sores for her, not the kid. He was after all she reminded the coach on a regular basis, his best player. Increasing the volume of her son should be getting more playing field dirt, grass stains to shout out in his uniform this season whine.

After a practice, pulled aside and lighting up a cigar he started his conversation with Mom.

Low voice aside, out of earshot or to observe visually, he let Mom know “Your son is a great kid. You’ve done a super job raising him. But. Frankly, he just lacks soccer talent.” Her jaw dropped. Conversation had a lull. The bottom dropped out and she was speechless. I said whoa. You told her that face to face with a Cuban going? Without pleasure, not delivered meanly, he spilled the beans out of sight of the team that had dispersed. Relayed what she did not want to hear. Not expected, had not considered but believe it or not had to process. To explain why he was not out on the field in the game rather than sitting watching it.

If your conversations, what you write, how you communicate, do you dare to be open and honest? Not provocative, exotic or for show. But because it cuts to the chase. Says it like you mean it, see it. Shooting from the hip. Life’s short, people are busy, be tough skinned, tender hearted. Be kind, be honest. Put all the cards face up, down on the table more than holding them close to your chest. But there are situations where it’s no way feelings don’t get stepped on. Instead of respect and going along to get along, you could end up on the you know what list for the “somebody had to say it”.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 8, 2014
Maine, Simpler Algorithm To Better Living.

Gaming the system and looking for the current algorithm to spin, stand out, be on top.

To unlock the right combination of input variables to get the maximum return. More than garbage in, the same out. Throwing it at the wall and hoping it sticks.

Calculated awareness to plan your moves wisely before taking your hand away. Collecting, holding, discarding, laying down any cards.

It is developing the math, science, computer language technology vision skills to see the big and little picture. Playing the odds. Getting far away from trial and error flying by just the seat of your pants. Trusting your gut forming the tractor tire you wear for life to track the trends. To drive your day to day path making in the creative decision making.
Community Service Volunteering, Working Public Suppers One Maine Algorithm Variable For Simpler Living Joy.

To apply the one by one steps needed by custom chiseling, careful shaving and sanding.

To remove the rough edges, sharp corners of what you build in your backyard garage. Plant, water, weed, feed in the fertile patch of garden dirt where you sink and cover the magic beans.

To match where you live, in your local bubble to the DNA of how the World revolves around you today.

Highly specialized has happened in society as she shifts into a faster road gear, squeezes the gas pedal.

More complicated and needing other people’s technical help, products, services. Being dependent on the Internet to fan the fire. Pour on fuel. Which means expensive if you pay others to keep up by digging deep. Pumping endless streams of quarters, other larger currency to just stay on the beam.

Or studying, determination to adapt, see and understand the changes and apply them to your set of life Rubik’s cube colors. Without becoming frustrated to the point of poor impulse control. Ripping, peeling off the face colors to reapply on a different side square where you herd them to match up to win.

I must say the cup of Joe is exceptional, outstanding Maine home weekend coffee this morning.

Or it’s from watching Captain America on the big silver screen at the local theatre last night’s walk home that got me thinking about algorithms. And how today we run things from the wrong end. Up top down.

Or driven by an industry that scares, manipulates and then feeds on what it creates to control the masses. Exploitation happens and the height of the almighty dollar pile is how you keep score.
Good Maine Food, One More Algorithm Variable For Healthier Living.

Slowly the World, you and I are less of Jack of all trades that Maine is famous for, brimming with in Vacationland. And all the charts like an Albert Einstein in one or just a few areas.

Totally devoid in all the rest we hire out, sub contract to others to maintain and address. Usually the low bidder with the best run operation. Where he and she know the biggest, sometimes only profit is in the expenses. So make it a no sag, no slack fly zone people. Tight is right, red is positive and time is money.

The simple algorithm to gain better, simpler living in Maine reduces, shrinks down any bloated feeling.

Of over stimulation by artificial intelligence. Too much retail therapy. Genuine, home grown, natural patience replaces imitation store bought hurry hurry blur here in Maine.

Because the money is not how we keep score. Or use to flaunt to cause envy in some hoity toity numbering pecking order. No one is labeled, treated, deemed, judged better or worse. Not graded good, bad or both. You are just a striving to improve you like me.

Removed from the equation without Botox, rhinoplasty, tummy tuck procedures.
Self Sufficiency, More Reliance On Yourself. In The Maine Simpler, Happier Living Algorithm Variable String.

It’s a take what you need, leave the rest. No gluttony hoarding like you must have worms.

Or a hungry cancer to feed that eats you up from the inside out. Still all about others. Not vanity or ego, insecurities but the greater good in a small Maine town. That has not changed.

ET heart like glowing brighter than ever inside. Because you feel at home comfortable, in your right place under the sun in the simple Maine small town surroundings.

The strong connection take away from the solo sport of gaming the algorithms by your lonesome. Replacing that busy technical chase your tail work with fire in your belly creative passion. To pour it on that make a difference in other people’s lives.

Awareness of the sparsely populated community’s needs and working in unison. Pulling together in the traces to survive, grow, prosper. Concentrating on what we show and tell in raising our families in the privacy of our Maine homes. Partnered with the collective roles all of us take on out and about in the entire Maine village or burg.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 6, 2014
They Met 37 Years Ago, It Took That Long To Cross Paths Again.

The best job in the World, meeting neat people along with matchmaking properties to fit the folks.

This Maine blog post couple highlighted a guy raised in Brooklyn, two Vietnam War river boat tours. Met a lady on some rest and relaxation from the rice paddies in the hop across the puddle to Australia.
The Car Became The Home, It Happens.
Where Madalyn worked, they first met approaching four decades ago.

They both never stopped thinking of each other.

But life pulled each in other directions. To opposite sides of the blue and green revolving marble.

Not traveling in the same circles or daily paths. And Madalyn proceeded to build a home in the bush. 800 miles from the nearest store and shopping every three months. To avoid expensive local foodstuffs. Off grid self sufficient too. Gutsy lady.

In a tent first with a dog named Tao. A K-9 cross, blend of mastiff and labrador. Raised from a puppy and in a country with nine out of ten of the most deadliest snakes on the planet. That on walks would go ahead, kill a snake it sensed on some internal radar.

But one day coming back into the tent after exploring. That had a lit citronella candle for mosquitoes and black flies. Was hit by the tail of the happy big dog returning to a sleeping owner.

Marilyn had dozed off writing a letter. And when the dog wrote her up, pulling at her in the thick smoke, she just had time to leap out of the tent. Before everyone caught a blaze and a gas tank exploded. Everything including money burned up, destroyed in a flash.

Time to rebuild and until construction moved into the Ford Cortina car. She in front, Tao in back. In the outback, seeing Roos, Wallabees. Shopping at a Coop, places like Sally’s, stores that recycle good stuff someone else used lightly. Or not at all. Never took a shining to. Just not liked, worn and ta da. Second time around Rose deja vu for you to try on. Wear, sport, hang in your closet. To take home paying whatever that color dot represented on the wall chart of unheard of savings. Discounts are easier when the cost of goods is free. No mark up for what the traffic will stomach.

The far away neighbors helped this lady with the big dog in Australia get the materials for re-building.

Which were stolen before being pieced together while parked at the old tent location cleared spot. Hard times, tough lady, interesting experiences in the outback of a country far from Maine. Where Frank says he never stopped thinking about her. She lamented, admitted the same.

The reach out for Where’s Waldo, I mean Frank that Madalyn had used came up a dead end.

Contacted the Vietnam Veterans Center in Washington DC to see if he could be located through the membership. He was not in that group. She cried on the shoulder of a friend the night before that she had to accept Frank was gone forever. He found her through social media tenacity and called the very next morning. Looking for me? Panning, sifting for locations of a missing love online finally hit pay dirt. Got traction.

They worked through the two year green card process. That’s another story. Were married and are here in Maine. Ready to move because one by one taking turns staying with his family mostly in Pennsylvania is getting difficult. Love the kids but everyone wants their own TV channel wand to surf. The old space on the couch to find their personal choice for feeding tube offerings. Will keep you posted on how they make out… her expressions are precious.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 4, 2014
Maine Voices In Your Head, Did Someone Say Meow?

You are a Northern Maine office supply guy and dropping off deliveries.

See the golden arches and out of reflex, with your stomach doing the 10 and 2 swerve. Take a hard right into hap hap happy place. To throw the van in park. Hand gallop into the lobby to order up the usual food fare. Egg McMuffins, one with ham, the other with a sausage snug as a bug in a rug in the middle. Black coffee, and okay, throw in a pair of hash browns in that bag to go go go. Mickey Dees, Timmy Ho Ho’s, Dunk Your Donut, they’re all a big habit in a small Maine town jump start your day where everyone knows your name.
Kittens, Cats Can Make A Maine Home Complete.

It was summer, sunny and when Dave slid behind the wheel and sat munching, slowly emptying the contents of the sack of fast food fuel, he hears sounds.

Voices in his head, but not English. Cat talk, meows mew mew mewing. He sticks his head out the open window, looking for the source. Nothing in the parking lot scan.

Gets out, looks under the loaded van of cardboard boxes. Nope, no felines. Swivels his head in a pan of the parking lot. Makes sure radio is off. Scratches his head. Climbs back in the van, the sounds are coming from inside. Really? He did not remember packing cats for the drop offs today.

Not sounds from a talking card with the watch or hearing aid battery glued inside. That won’t shut off and tucked under the sun visor or in the glove box. On the check off list of where the heck are those meows coming from hunt down. Not from a cell phone ring tone either needing to be silenced.

Finishes breakfast, steps out. Opens up the rear lid of the van and starts removing boxes. Lots of them restacked on the asphalt. To get to the source of the trio sounds. Three kittens crying, the stowaways, hitchhikers located using his eyes and ears detective approach.

Someone had thought Dave looks like a good trusting soul.

Might need a threesome of cats or would sign on to find someone that does. Suddenly the office supply van is an animal shelter and he is in charge of foster care adoption work. What to do? Return the favor and pass the cats along? Other cars with open windows, inside diners ordering up the grub. At first considered but … No. Drowning them like some used to do with no qualms in a burlap sack, a pail of water until the sounds stop? Heck no.

Homes, the cats need probably three of them.

Hate to break up the family. He thought of dropping them off at the Mooers Farm on the County Road thinking the kittens will have a good life there. But instead, heads to the animal shelter on the Callaghan Road. Where today of all days he IS carrying cash. Which never happens because plastic is used to maneuver his way around the circular route in Aroostook County.
Voices Get High Up, Cartoon Sounding When Small Animals Are Around A Maine Home.
To end up back in Caribou Maine at the end of the heavy lifting, driving, delivery to keep office staffs purring. To not develop hair balls that clog, stops operations. And make people want to scratch and claw his eyes out if a delay happens and they run out of office supplies.

Seven dollars a piece for check in, to drop off the three Maine kittens at the animal shelter, humane society. Ever had cats or other animals dropped off on at doorstep? Or put in the open window of your vehicle at 7:30 in the morning like Dave? I have gotten a really neat Maine cat to adopt, take to my home in a real estate sale.

Spay and neuter your family pet so less orphans, animal hobos on the road happen.

Dave had an office cat in his operation where he lived overhead. Did not need more to keep things entertaining or for security after hours at work.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

April 3, 2014