Storms In Life Happen. Mainer’s Are Prepared For Them. Whatever Way The Wind Blows, Life Brings For Challenges.
When you are lucky enough to live in a small Maine town, what Vacationland is, spread out rural communities, it is like one big family.
All crowded into one house. Not always happy. Lots of wide open space outside. Special considerations on the inside for cramped quarters and everyone knows your business. Or thinks they do.
Small town living in Maine is empowering, it’s own rich reward.
And the connection to others in the small Maine town can be like the expression. Familiarity breeds contempt.
Because you do work closely together on projects, civic, school, church and sporting events. Have to bump into each other because like a bench chasing the black circle or black, white or orange ball, only so many players. Look over your shoulder when you are working a community volunteer events, and there is not a long line of replacements.
So when the small same group of worker bees pitch in and put on the best performance possible with the resources and talent available, here what can happen. A whine, groan amongst the way to go, attah boy’s. How come you did not do this? Why don’t we do that? We? (Digging out, opening up the Little Red Hen Golden Book, thumbing through the pages).
Living in a small Maine town demands toughening up that hide, your outer skin to criticism. Because everyone is not going to be a happy camper round the clock. Or some at all. There are Eeyores in the audience. But constructive criticism is warranted for better result too. Hear them out. Consider the merits of the suggestion. And make them chairman of that new committee.
So tough skinned, tender hearted and expecting less praise from others. Got it.
More you yourself knowing if you put in the over the top effort. Planning was done methodically, adequately or not. It’s a no fly zone. For the by the seat of your pants, last minute slapped together. Lots of pride in your work radiates, glows in the dark. There is no room for lazy in any discussion of the members of a small Maine town. Call it our farming background heritage. Label it a survival skill because small Maine towns are an endangered species. If the community falls asleep at the switch. Last guy or gal out turn out the lights.
When the temperature goes down, the thought of lets make a hearty Maine chowder, soup, stew takes over.
Something that does not happen, come to mind when out on your open deck in front of a Maine lake sunset. After a picture perfect, sunshine high over head summer breeze day. Chowders, Soups, Stews Thaw, Warm A Winter Mainer.Swilling a barley pop or grape juice. During summer living in shorts, sandals. Sporting a tan with natural background music by Maine loons.
Party boats and kayaks, canoes, lazer sail craft drifting by. With the grill, family, friends, conversation during an outdoor BBQ.
It’s lawn chairs in a circle camp fire adult therapy after the eating with your hands grilled meal. Kids splashing, laughing in the water. Chasing fire flies, bull frogs.
Then a Maine winter arrives suddenly.
Something hearty for food, that will stick to your ribs, not wear off needed. To keep you going if working. Laboring, doing chores outside in the Maine cold weather elements.
And the recipes carried over, passed down from the days when pretty much everyone lived on a rural Maine farm. And what goes in the pot was whatever was grown, raised on the family patch of dirt. In abundance during bountiful years. Other times lean. Less populated with vegetables, meat, other seasoning and watered down. More like a broth.
Maine potatoes a given to show up for the table side performance.
With an endless supply in the root cellar retreived along with carrots, onions, corn cut from the home grown garden cob. Smoke On The Water, Good Weather For Chowders, Soups, Stews. Stew tomatoes, slaughtered beef or if you were lucky fresh caught ice hole jigged fish. Maybe farm chicken added, stirred into the large pot on the wood cook stove.
More than enough for one table session no matter how many chairs surrounded it. The left overs, parked in the same pot one vessel to store, wait. Put out in the glass sun porch or unheated summer canning kitchen.
To improve in taste as everything mingles, socializes. Gets brewed, comes together for maximum flavor. Much dependent upon the hunger you supply, brought to the dinner table.
To laddle out, revisit when the three sided kitchen triangle sounds to come and get it. Signaling meal time has rolled around again. Bow your head, who’s turn to say grace? Count your blessings. Amen.
So Maine seafood chowder where clam is my favorite denizen of the deep to swim in it.
Any time, temperature reading of the year. Had to go to Ipswich Massachusetts kinda, sorta, indirectly. But what the heck, Maine was part of the Bay State until 1820. Not so long ago really right? We can thank the blogger’s Mom for this clam chowder recipe.
And finishing out with Maine soup recipes designed to keep that winter oil furnace off.
Silent, as long as possible. To avoid the nickel, dime, twenty dollar pan handling that happens once it’s dialed in reluctantly. Put into Maine home heating operation along with layering, digging out wool sweaters. Check out these 8 soups, chowders, recipes to consider serving up, sliding on to your dinner table.
Before Campbell’s reminded us that soup is MMMmmmm good food, Mainer’s already knew that. Still do. Could you pass those oyster crackers please? Another splash of chowder, soup, stew for you too? Hand me that bowl. Eat up. There’s plenty. And we all know seconds, thirds always make the Maine cook smile, grandmother happy.
Maine wells, the water in Vacationland, how does it measure up to other places?
In the top three for questions I hear daily in my paying job as a Maine real estate broker, well water is a big part of the buzz, rattle and hum.
Often because the water where the real estate buyer out of state is has problems. Maine, Water, Clean Water Everywhere. To Enjoy Drinking, For Recreational Fun. Out west quantity not just quality of water is a big concern. Major issues there cause folks to ask about water here in Maine.
The lady calling in from Texas today sharing her well through several feet of limestone was some kind of expensive. Because it went almost the entire way down to China. And you hold your nose when you force down a glass because of odor, other complications, deficiencies.
The deeper the water well, the higher the taxi meter charge on the dashboard of the rig doing the boring if paying by the foot, not a flat fee.
The damage cost bill from the well water drilling outfit that sets up on the land. Adds the steel casing, shoe, seal, submersible pump, pitless adapter and cap. Before lifting the hydraulic stabilizer legs and heading on down the highway. Lumbering on to the next Maine water well drilling assignment, mission.
How much well water do you really need?
Well if you are thinking of starting a Maine farm with a herd of beef, dairy cattle, buffalo or something bigger than a flock of chickens, a lot.
The average cow, hay burner needs, drinks between seven to ten percent of their body weight a day. Maine Buffalo, Cows, Horses, Sheep, Deer, Goats, Pigs All Like, Need Lots Of Water.
Slightly more than the 8 glasses of water you and I are suppose to open the gullet. Down the hatch splash, lubricate with H2O daily.
I know, that does sound like an awful lot of water being used but did you ever have teenage daughters in your household?
Best way to curb that excessive water usage for the camped out in the shower daughter or son is to say here’s your tokens for the week.
Like a car wash. Add the timed meter requiring more tokens to continue longer showers cures wasting water. Worrying about did someone go to sleep in there and leave all that expensive heated water running wide open?
Talked to Littleton Maine water well driller Jamie Watson recently about H20 standards.
Why is Northern Maine water so tasty, high quality, abundant in supply output?
Jamie says to thank the glaciers. They created horsebacks, eskers of gravel and other filtration layers to purify, preserve and protect, to guarantee large water pocket supplies. Plus less people in Northern Maine means the number of oil spills, tank ruptures nose dives. Maine, Unspoiled, Plentiful Water Supplies Happen Here. Not so common to have industrial accidents. Any form, degree of man made contamination is far less than if you were talking a concentrated urban area which Maine is not.
What is the cost for a well drilled where I live in Houlton Maine?
Well like anything it depends if you are drilling down through granite around a Maine lake or setting the rig up in a open farm field.
But $3500 the figure to quote according to Jamie who is from three generations of Maine well drillers. And add another couple thousand for the submersible pump, all the rigging to open the tap. To say “AHHHhhhhhh” and to enjoy an ice cold tall, clear, clean glass of Maine water.
When you live in Aroostook County, farming is part of the rich heritage.
All types of farming and the advances made over the years on display at the Southern Aroostook Agricultural Museum in Littleton Maine.
Valuable For Heat, For Home Cooking, The Farm House Wood Stove.
If you have never been to a SAAM bean supper, enjoyed socializing, hearing farm stories or touring the newest antique farm displays, you have missed out big time.
The museum is housed in the former Littleton Elementary School.
Is full of household items, farm tools, room displays of the era and a machinery shed.
It is not just tractors of all colors, vintages. More than farming equipment, attachments. But just as much a glimpse at the day to day way of life long ago on the family farm in Maine.
Like many local community activities in small town Maine, you don’t just pay, attend events, go home, that’s that.
No no. You pick your collection of them to work, make the event possible with a home made, hands on approach. Bring whatever talents tap you as the best to pair up with others that have the same interest, background, skills. And then pretty much that group are your buddies for the rest of your life in that small Maine town. Working that activity. This is one of your projects to run, improve, make sure happens yearly. It’s on your shoulders, to do list.
You step up, you feel connected, needed. You contribute your creative spirit, blood, sweat and tears.
Great Food, Friendly Museum Members Serve It Up.
Passion for your Maine town to make it special, unique, what it is. Log on to the SAAM site.
The Southern Aroostook Agricultural museum is located on US Rt 1, Littleton ME.
Like to help them expand, work in the one room school house or new Maine barn project? The small general store display? Your talent is needed. You get back way way more than you put in with the personal satisfaction. That you pitch in to create, keep adding to and improve. That’s the deep satisfaction of living in a small Maine town parked on the New Brunswick Canadian – Aroostook County border.
Plan, scheme, implement. With in this case a neat group of Maine farmer preservationists. That happen to be out of this World cooks, like to put on memorable buffet spreads too. Now I’m pretty hungry and can’t wait for the next Southern Aroostook Agricultural Museum public supper.
Like most awful things that can happen in life, we tend to avoid thinking about them.
Because we “feel lucky today” as Mary Chapin Carpenter sings. Kid like super hero protected and pretty much bullet proof. Believing that the gruesome, painful only happens to other people in the news. Far away, in books and movies. To people we don’t know until it does occur right on schedule close to home. Do you feel lucky today?
My Mom died of colon cancer and I saw how spiritual she really was in the down to the bitter end fade away.
Not that anyone that knew her ever doubted her faith. She read, studied, practiced scripture application daily. She was grateful, felt blessed, more than just “lucky today”. Not afraid, rock solid and setting the tone to how everyone in the room should handle the chain of events.
When the doctor at Eastern Maine Medical spilled the beans with here’s the deal. Out of many options, they are all short straws. Take your pick. With the Penobscot River, sunshine beam, ice and snow in the background, behind her elevated hospital motorized bed. She smiled when he left the room, had reported, delivered the news. We studied her anxiously and calmly as she announced her decision, desire. Still smiling, gracious, composed.
Her approach to living, dying, cancer, whatever obstacle in the road ahead made it much easier for the rest of us in the room. Cut and dry because you honored her wishes. You accepted her approach to the take away of the end of her life. She was practical, realistic, grateful no matter what. Life. As it coasted, rolled to a stop. Swerved across the rumble strip and drifted into the break down lane. But she was in her eighties, had led a full healthy life up until the last few mile markers.
Brought four bouncing brown eyed boys into the World. Endured the fun and games, ups and downs of farming, running a business. Enjoyed, hand crafted a sixty plus year marriage. Working on a Maine farm against the weather, economy, the other twists and turns that pile up and age a person. Or provide crystal clear, 20 20 vision to be fully aware of living in just today. Not trapped, dragged handcuffed in barbed wire back into the past. Or racing too far ahead. Planning your future that may look a little different than you hoped, expected when and if you do actually get there. (Click). Dial in today on the meter settings. Then rip that knob off.
Cancer Ripples, Effects Everyone Around You. Hold On, Hug Tight.
My secretary has cancer.
She is a fighter, feisty, determined and I have seen her shake off the little things quickly. That the rest of us without cancer track records don’t.
No time for worrying about the small stuff when you have bigger fish to fry.
More at stake and when quickly you see her evolve. Can not afford the luxury of friggin’ around when time’s a wastin’. It’s like a big test you knew was coming up but have plenty of time to prepare. Take it, pass it in, get your grade.
We dawdled, thought about that test off and on. But other stuff takes center stage, distracts, kills the time clock. You are relaxed. Then your day arrives when your friend has cancer changes your outlook, total approach to living. We joked it is like you are suddenly driving an old worn out VW beetle bug, some major hills to cruise over coming up. All you can see. So floor it, go in to them as fast as possible. To get as far as you can to clear them all. To stay healthy through the treatments that eat into your speed, momentum, limited horsepower with that small rear air cooled engine and no real heater for comfort.
The one six letter word cancer. It’s like someone turned off the loud music, switched off the tube. Shooed away the guests, took the phone off the hook, dead bolted the house doors. And focused all the energy, thought, passion, prayer and dedication into just one channel. To live today as if it was your last. To live fully, to the max no matter what it takes. No matter how many days any of us really has to spend on this blue and green marble. What if it was you with cancer?
Revamping all the old habits, kicking the vices out the door and suddenly a whole new you appreciation gets rolled out.
When you have an end in sight discussed around the medical charts and all the possibilities, odds, scenarios to prepare for the just in case. Not the way way out there death waiting that the rest of us see, have to consider. When it is not on our mind daily, and far away from here. But when the run way does not go on and on forever before lift off. Pulling up the landing gear one last time.
And a more outspoken but said in love new you enters the room.
The one that establishes the rules. My secretary is the quarter back. Memo sent out. “This is a no cry zone I know you love me, I know you care but if you keep crying, carrying on, it makes me feel bad. I feel responsible. But remember people, I did not raise my hand and volunteer for pick me pick me for cancer please. It chose me. If you want to help me, don’t feel sorry for me or how losing me would affect your life sadness please. Or do that on your own time.”
Pitch in, do what you can to help and sometimes it is just be there but not hovering. Over in the corner, out there but when recovering from all those time released bags of chemo cocktails hanging on the IV pole. Take a break. Please stand by.
It said with love but “just lighten up, back away and let me recover.” To not have to worry about oh oh, I hurt someone’s feelings because not up to tap tap tap like texting the reply to the how I am feeling today message. When it’s like a Mack truck or train or both tag team hit me for a few days. Like no other hang over sickness to date and you ache.
Or reaching out to make the many, not just one phone call replies when the folks surrounding you love you, want and need the latest answer status report to “how are you doing?” How do you help when someone you know and love has cancer?
I know someone who is going to be a cancer survivor because she is doing everything right.
Is focused, sitting down front in class. A model student, young, healthy in all the other ways and one gutsy, feisty, not going down without a fight determined lady. I bet you do too in your experiences, travels. Reach out and give them a hug but then ask what do you need me to do and do it. No tears, more roll up your sleeves and get to work to do your part. Be a friend. Be patient. Be grateful and look at your own life and adjust your priorities accordingly. It is sad it takes so long to learn but better late then never. It is never too late to start living because if you are not you are dying. Get busy, take your pick.
Standardized educational systems, the classroom approach to mass assemble what’s important in our society is one hot Teaching, Not Scolding, But Guiding, Nurturing Young Children.Maine potato.
How to “build” from the cradle, as a young grasshopper all the way up to a responsible, community minded, self supporting, contributing adult.
But like a new video game that initially challenges to stimulate but shortly is figured out and mastered, education is not just striving to achieve higher test scores in a factory setting.
The success of the classroom education is not just measured by healthy GPA’s to get the sheep skin, but outside that multi-layered restrictive filtered system.
What happens in real world applications way beyond the classroom “educational simulator”.
And the fun, passion of wide open, old fashioned brainstorming. Creative free thinking. Not just in a group but one on one with just you outdoors in a Maine natural setting.
Without a critical eye in the bunch, any wet blankets thrown on the individual who like the Harry Chapin so many colors in the rainbow song does not agree that all flowers have to be red. That everything is not cut and dry, black and white and come in many more than fifty shades of gray.
That you or I as youngsters can without any guilt reach for, apply other colors. To express our individual spark, unique creative spirit we are born, blessed with but can lose. Some argue that like the Maine snowflake, no two the same distinction is being lost, going extinct.
Squeezed, stamped out and that there is no place in standardized educational herd them in and out modules for the individual creative expression. That essential emotions, passion if missing or stifled, smothered can ignite a cancer of dark cold sameness. That ripples across, “dumbs down”, turns out the lights on everything it touches in the fabric holding together, shaping our society.
Sir Ken Robinson talks about the irony of no child left behind in education where kids are disengaged, don’t get a benefit and conformity not individuality is pushed.
Instead of curiosity, that it’s okay to be different and diverse. He asks there is teaching, but is there learning going on?
And do our well intentioned public schools kill creativity?
The education, critical thinking skills and ability to adapt out in the real world realizing that ADHD is not an epidemic. Just maybe a flawed approach in the cross hair target for our educational approach to teaching in our country. What thinks you?
