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Too Much Alike, Opposites Attract, So Which Is It That Works For You?

If a people pair are dubbed by their peers as “two peas in a pod”, would that earn the label carbon copy?

Peas In A Pod, Getting Along. Maybe Sisters, Best Friends? Waiting For Their Ship To Come In?
Not identical twins. But pretty close to clones in what makes them tick deep down inside? Sized up, USDA graded “A” number one. Rumbling along the one potato, two potato life conveyor assembly line. An awful lot alike. Or the chemistry of the two elements, personalities combined causes difficulty in determining where one starts and the other leaves off in the relationship tag team of two.

Or is it like the porridge the girl with the hair of gold was finicky about, highly selective.

Not going to sit down and eat until it was “just right”. Kept looking, sampling, not settling for anything that was not just so. Same breakfast mush but the temperature seemed to be the one defining selection variant in the eenie meenie miney moe. The standard sought before the bow the head grace and digging in. To beam satisfied, be all smiles with a happy tummy in the break and enter brunch buffet. Without the baby grand piano player, fish bowl tip jar, freshly squeezed, sweating juice pitcher array.

But we are not talking food you like or not. Instead, it’s what leaves a good taste in both people’s mouths in the mostly blue sky and sunshine relationship labor. When it works, clicks. And they still all do demand effort. The give and take. A work in progress. Rock polishing, smoothing. Finding the rough edges together.

Then eyes on your own paper. Roll up the sleeves. At your private time desk. Each filing and sanding their fair share off in the building of a lasting, enduring friendship. Changing the way you you used to look at things, the new way you react in a good, positive way. That can not help but improve the weather, atmosphere surrounding the relationship.

To come closer together in alignment for harmony. To be orbiting in the same circles.

Sand blasting, hammering out, chiseling away at their differences from each rise and shine daily experience. The notes on the page transposed to music that is sung, played on the right pitch, in the same key, matched in time rhythm.

Weathering the storms that happen right on schedule in anyone’s life. Everything happens for a reason. Paying attention develops the clarity to light the murky, watery channel ahead around the “islands” of people. To learn how to put it all in perspective, to come out stronger, wiser in the process. Who wouldn’t want the best possible relationship ever. Because you are in it, get to sample the ambrosia you helped make. We are talking appreciation, not the wrecking ball of pride raising havoc, taking over.

All this hunt and peck talk about becoming more alike, so where does the “opposites attract” part camp weigh in, apply?

If you and I were too much alike would there be no room, or nothing new for adding to the recipe crafted, baked together? To surprise, delight both of us. Drawn up from the deep, cold well of talents, skills, experiences of the other in the combined repertoire?

Maybe over thinking leads to the need to control, alternate, delete time. Like the porridge simple. It just tastes good, goes down well. Gravitate to those things, people that do. If someone comes up along side you that says me too, smile. Don’t fight it. The pairing happens naturally, not so scientifically in the match making of what just works game.

Trouble shooters can be good in keeping a business ship afloat. The ink not flowing red but black. But need to throw away the office template in the affairs of the heart. To just sit in the boat, paddle with the current and drift, relax, wait for what is around the next river bend. Could be a class five rapid or a quiet pool to eddy out for lunch when the porridge wears off. Time to dine, feast again.

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

December 7, 2013
Aunt Charlene Belonged To A Local Maine Food Co Op.

Once a month, Aunt Charlene would do her part in the distributing of the bulk food order from the local Maine food co op.

And ordering for what everyone needed for food supplies was done in the Ronald McDonald Room ironically. Downstairs where the little kids get wired on way too much cake and squeal, NASCAR fast circling the area the tall clown with the big feet, way too much lipstick and the wild red hair hangs out under the golden arches. You know, the place where you deserve a break today, change back from your dollar, Mickey D’s. Don’t forget to super size that value meal deal. Move ahead please.

Eating healthier dark, heavy multi grain breads, letting go of bleached wonder white air puff stinking thinking.

Pass the yogurt and that red pepper humus will you please? The joy of having the Maine home pantry stocked with the good stuff. To spread around the family kitchen table that is highly nutritious. Bulk bought food where you fill, store, have ready everything you need to knock down the meal times.

To save money on avoiding all that colorful, eye catching, wallet opening marketing containers. That razzle dazzle a tired, hungry, in a hurry person pushing the wire cart with always the one bad, squeaky peg leg wheel. The place with the muzak, where you pay more for one can of corn rather than buy the whole case wholesale thinking foiled.

Less trips, not dependent on the grocery store means more time, money for something else.

Not running the roads as much. Savings happening, building for peace of mind, those rainy days. And along with the food co op bulk buying when the freight comes in, weaving in the food you grow yourself outback in the garden plot.

The close to home locally raised produce, fruit, veggies you score when in season has another conveyor belt into that same pantry too. Fresh is best. But canning and preserving part of the ritual in a Maine household.

Eating better, less stressed, feeling in the pink.

You are what you eat. Not trying to just be trim but fit too and eating healthy. Because your body is a temple, something to protect, preserve and to enrich life by daily maintenance of the physical, spiritual, mental health balance. To keep it that way.

In balance with moderation and awareness of what is going in the pie hole. The good thoughts coming out of the same portal. Or remaining silent if there is a storm in the heart or head and oh oh, here comes a tongue lashing. Heads are going to roll. Venting helps put out the fire, but inner joy, peace extinguishes the need for all that kindling to maintain and build the blaze right?

Not happy, poor me is a choice. Staying that way is plain lazy.

But not so hand stand, heel kicking clicking happy goes hand in hand with not feeling so hot. Maybe because the diet is not helping. But often the last place they look under, behind. It’s all in your head may need to move over with the what are you putting, funneling, siphoning into your gut cowboy? Besides that can of beans, beef jerky, slice of cactus? Washing all that trail dust down with a gallon of swamp water. MMmmm not so good. No, I’m not going to pass the Little Debbie’s oat pie hombre. You’ll get your shot of formaldehyde when it’s RIP time.

Here is a Maine food co op directory that needs to be added to, feel free. Update to display where locally you get your bulk food, the know where it comes from and how it was grown vittles your family deserves. That’s so so important to the simpler, healthier living in Maine schema.

Another portal to throw, toss into the grocery cart for the Crown O’ Maine Organic Cooperative. Nature’s Circle in New Limerick Maine still one more shining star organic food operation that is anything but Mickey Mouse, rinky dink. Or maybe you need quality seed to start your own backyard enterprise for good wholesome, grow it yourself food? Wood Prairie Farms is a good resource to add to the list in your determination for better, healthier living in Maine.

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

December 4, 2013
Everyday Miracles, Joy In Maine Small Town Country Farm Living.

The large rickety barn door on the Maine farm creaks open.

Rattles, groans as you lift the latch holding it shut. To pour, splash, invade the shadows inside. During the early morning sunrise of long not so powerful rays this time of year.

The winter farm gate keeper, motel manager for four legged guests causing sunlight to enter the rows of standing stalls on one side. Larger category eleven and twelve roomier box stalls along the opposite wall of the barn. It’s feeding, haying, graining, watering time on the Maine farm.

You don’t get a morning off when you sign up for the raising critters life style of country living in Maine. Up before first light means you toddle off to bed a little earlier. To avoid the need, cattle prodding from an alarm clock. The animals expect a wake up visit. Turn, glad to see you for breakfast, any meal during the day.

Your pair of peepers squint, adjust to the lack of barn light before the old fashioned, outdated twist electrical switch is reached.

Stepping in,closing the home made door barely hanging on the hinges. As you gawk. Survey what some of the horses got into for mischief overnight. Checking on the mother due to be in boil water, tear up sheets, hard labor soon if your calculations are right. You and the vet have a little bet on that miracle of life about to be delivered on the Maine farm.

Watch the last standing stall on the right. That appaloosa kicks, bites, slams you into the wall if you don’t pay attention. There is a lot of room for improvement in his stable table manners. Like some people, his ears are always back, teeth bared, lips quivering. As he horses around, acts up for the wrong kind of attention. He’ll take whatever kind he can get, deserves. On the menu.

The second Maine farm barn box stall hay burner is very social.

Also has her own hard to break bad habit of cribbing. Considered a Maine horse stable vice not virtue.

But boredom, neglect, confinement causes its horse like human dysfunctions too. You add galvanized sleeves to the nibbled, exposed wood sections of the stall but good luck with that. You can’t wrap it all in metal.

Therapy for skinny rescue horses, learning what type of country music they enjoy. Getting them saddled up, out to trail ride. Or at least on the revolving end of a brightly colored lunge line into the fresh air. It all helps create peace, contentment. Breaks up a long Maine winter for the handler and horse combined.

After so many flakes from square bales are first, slowly lowered to avoid breakage, then oh crap happening. Losing one side, or both un-gluing of bailing twine packaging. Stored in the stable’s adjoining big Maine farm barn hay mow loft. Stacked, racked, jacked up the conveyor off the truck or tractor wagon. After compression into short rectangles, collected and parked inside on the hottest day of the Maine summer.

After the hay dealing meals from your wheels, the right mix of grain, and hold your horses on the watering to absorb, not flush all those nutrients on purpose delay. It’s wheel barrel time.

To clean out what went in from the other end.

Filling, emptying multiple, endless wheelbarrows of cedar shavings and straw. Getting a barnyard work out more of a healthy habit when the mercury is sinking, sitting low in the tube. More so in the winter when it is too cold, or raining. Too windy for the steeds, horses, ponies to be out in the open weather elements. Even with a lean to horse hovel, three sided run in to avoid the worst of it.

The spring, summer, fall turning out, emptying of the stable means a reprieve. Less runs up and down the fertilizer pile. The one you really have to give it all you got during take off. To make a run for it. A quick heave ho, put your back into it lift off. Up the series of planks, the twisting narrow roadway airstrip.

The steaming, growing taller organic food for the vegetables. Forming out behind the Maine farm barn. Less visited when grass is green, growing. But used as the take it easy. Helping the horses avoid too much rich clover early on when like drunken sailors of eat, drink and be merry. That’s part of one grazing session chapter. Talked about, studied in your Maine farm operators job description manual too.

Moderation, good luck teaching that to a a Maine farm pleasure horse.

Who wants another apple, carrot, rub behind the ear. To be curry brushed, tail and mane combed out from those burdocks. All the time. That tangled in their coarse hair needing soaking in the pail of water to loosen up, disintegrate and let go. The feet one by one to be tapped just so, lifted. Picked up, held between chest and one arm. Hoof picked with the other while checking for ailments. Scrapes, dings, grazes, bites needing salve, love and attention. As you reach for the Bag Balm green square tin of protection. That helps when it hurts.

Ride me, take me for a spin those big brown eyes, sometimes one with an non matching different looking pale blue gray lone, maybe a pair of watch eyes pleads. As Flicker, Trigger, Big Lady or Briar snort, stomp, push up against you and act frisky. Wanting, needing to run, fill those big lungs with fresh air. Kick up their heels like you and I need to do as often as possible. Did you grow up around, do you now own horses, other critters or want to be on a Maine farm for the simple country living lifestyle?

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com
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December 1, 2013
The Job Interview Where The Tone, Attitude Was All Wrong.

Had a head hunter stop into the office who had been doing his job for the same length as my Maine real estate career, coming up on thirty four years.

Looking for property and I asked him how his job has changed once I knew what he did for work. He said the attitude, tone, lack of respect knob volume has steadily been increasing in job seekers he deals with daily.

The job interviews used to be with a candidate quiet, nervous, anxious.

Hat in hand. Sober faced. Needing the job and willing to do whatever it took to get it. Not making demands, not grand standing. Humble, grateful, hopeful about the job process. What happened and where did the shift take place?

The erosion started with some applicants spoiled growing up and thinking the world owes them a living, anything. A big fat salary, comfortable life, benefits package no matter how improperly schooled or prepared for the job.

This seasoned head hunter said he saw more and more applicants make demands, have unrealistic expectations. Not many gave the impression they were in it for the long haul. Opportunistics, ready to jump ship to feather their own caps.

Spouting more of “if I decide to take this job and it all depends on this company measuring up” tone, ultimatum. If you guys jack high the ante.

Feed, raise the pot to my satisfaction” attitude, tone plays out during the interview quickly heading south. Going badly but no where to bring it back around. Salvage something good from the session for both parties.

Often the “not getting the job” candidate when told he wears a cocky attitude and his lack of team player spirit were two reasons does not take the rejection well.

Tells the interviewer hiring, screening where he can put the job. That he would never consider working for someone so rinky dink, mickey mouse, bush league.

Blaming others for his difficulty to get the job he knows he deserves at the nose bleed high pay scale level he expects. But is just not best suited for the long and short of it. Many times these out of whack expectations come from parents who spoiled the lad or lassie. Told them pretty much nonstop growing up that he or she could do no wrong. That the world pretty much revolved around them. The grand scheme to expect immediate results without passing go short cuts. Others expected to say how high when asked to jump, perform, meet their needs.

This head hunter, job placement veteran was not working in Maine, not interviewing job applicants from Vacationland.

In Maine work ethic is everything. Dedication to the job, to go above and beyond to keep it. To pour the same blood, sweat and tears into our local communities, families. Because it reflects on the person, his or her Maine town, family and shows what they are made of is instilled in us as young grasshoppers.

Maine, hard working small town friendly, uncomplicated folks live here. Looking for a place to launch, start your business, watch it grow with the right attitude? With hard working, dependable Maine employees in it for the long haul? Not a bad way to grow your business this place called Maine.

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

November 30, 2013
Running With Scissors, Washing Your Hands, Picking Up Maine Hitchhikers.

Strain, Gain, Filter, Squeeze Lots From Simple Maine Grateful Living.

Taking chances, being careful exploring and what you can do in Maine that you might not consider in other more populated, less safe areas.

Take hitch hiking as a mode of transportation. Using your thumb to avoid digging deep for gas money or because you don’t own anything needing fuel. Or when it is too cold for the pedal power of a bike. You can save a lot of money, cover much ground and make many new friends hitch hiking.

The feeling of getting a ride when waiting out in the cold or rain a long time is a good one.

A good Samaritan who got around to places using his extended thumb does not easily pass a hitchhiker. Because unless the fellow is unsavory looking, has three pit bulls or a starring role as a character in a Stephen King horror novel, you stop. Back up, ask the obvious…need a ride? It’s right along the way and conversation back and forth makes the travel quick for both of you.

Often it looks like someone’s college kid, one of our own too. Who may have a car that brook down.
Maine Is Outdoors, Friendly People, Less Crowds, More Beauty.
He suddenly got thrown into hoof it mode. Or just likes the experience meeting the locals hitchhiking that would be missed otherwise. Along the way to and from here and home. Or he is a nomad. On the road of life.

You are part of the mass transit puzzle piece.

Have a role. Glad to offer assistance. You are helping him out and can see yourself in the same situation too. Maybe you were once and someone always stopped over and over. You did not forget the kindness that was extended a lot graciously.

You learn from this traveler asking where you from, where you been, where you heading?

Hitting a truck stop to see who is going to Portland Maine and if you could catch a ride was not uncommon growing up in Aroostook. To get back to college. You did not feel scared or reckless. Like someone in East Boston, Hartford, The Bronx or some seedier sides of Philadelphia might. More from the Guide to Hitchhiking the World.

But back to Maine, what applies here as safe, standard day to day living is not the norm of crime, gangs, scams in the newscast blare.

That are the garden variety kind of day to day scary there. But every one gets numbed to the volume of it, the what to expect in urban areas where you learn to live in fear. Take extra precautions. More people, more crime, less small town connection like Maine is famous for, why it is remembered fondly here. Stands out as so so refreshingly different.

In Maine you don’t worry about a lot of the things that you would if you were fending for yourself in a big city. Same when you see someone hitchhiking in Maine. I’ve gone extra miles to help someone get closer, out of the cold, rain, snow. Or actually to their destination as a driver who can help if we did not share the same A to B. Sometimes the story they were telling, sharing was not done. Other times I just knew they would have a long wait at this place I was getting off the highway at so hit a spot more out in the open. More likely to get a quick “connecting flight” ride.

Maine. Keys left in the cars, that don’t get stolen, not taken for joy rides. Not used in a bank heist or for kidnapping. And we don’t have drive by shootings in the 4th lowest crime state of Maine. So when some new practices are instituted you wonder why and can we really afford the expenditure in a small Maine town? Is it really needed or has someone been watching too much television, cable beamed in from urban crime centers. Or this practice was needed where they used to live where lots of crazy stuff happened. Even with belts and suspenders extra precautions.

So back to hitchhiking in Maine and some of you raising your eyebrows and thinking is he crazy?

I did a lot of it growing up, met lots of neat people and never had a knife pulled. My wallet asked for at gun point. Pushed out of the jeep into the bushes as they became Clyde, not Bonnie in the shot gun position anymore. When I see a college student, two back packers by the road that look tired, I think know what that feels like.

Stop and pick them up. Back up. Think, picture someone with one of my own four kids doing the same and looking out for them. Play it forward. So they do the same and it snowballs. Gives you greater faith in your fellow man that starts with you and I, our actions, deeds. More on hiking the Appalachian Trail and where to stay along the way. Low cost way to see the best parts of Maine few tourists do because a majority just hit the coast and call it good enough. Turn back and head to their out of state, country home.

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

November 29, 2013
Metal Detectors In Small Maine Town Courthouses….

Recently, the trotting up Maine county courthouse steps to title search deeds, get a few copies of survey plat maps, something new introduced.

Metal detectors to walk through on the way across the first floor court house lobby. To hit the rows and rows of history smelling old property volumes in the registry of deeds.

There was a Maine murder trial underway upstairs in the courthouse.

The accused an elderly man with an old cold case being reheated and due process renewed, underway. But why the metal detectors and two personnel with earpieces, badges to run the empty your pockets, step through now back? The let’s try it again. Ditch that belt buckle routine like at the airport screening before the peanuts, beverage and maybe an in-flight silver bird movie. Please have your two dollars ready for the head set if not napping instead. The helpful correct change for something stiffer to nurse if you are nervous, anxious flying.

I asked the shirt, tie, blazer pair of fellows with dark pants, gray blazers how it is determined the extra security of setting up the portal to scan for metal is needed or not? One volunteered it was toward the end of the budget year, money left over so that was a pretty good reason to set up shop. Camp out for the cold winter week of weather during the warm, inside trial work deliberations. While waiting for a verdict to be hammered out. Recited loudly for all to hear by the standing up jury foreman.

The security pair looked bored stiff.

Sitting on hall benches. One hopping up when a stray wandered in as the front or side door opened. They bagged, tagged me three times. No one ever in line to cause a wait, delay when I made the pit stop to hit the registry a that week. The twins sitting, alternating roaming the halls. Studying old black and white images of past justices that tended the important job of holding up the legal scales. To determine guilt, innocence or somewhere in between shades of legal gray.

One court house screener told me his boss, if he had his way, would like to see the metal detector set up permanently all over Maine’s courthouses. Not just a hit or miss road show. Of stand up the doorway, then hit the highway, tear down mobile appearances. I could see if we lived in Chicago, a famous, notorious mob boss was on trial. Lots of threats on his life were circulating. Multiple change of venues happening to cool, soothe tensions, emotions. Maybe the metal scan is needed in Portland Maine judicial locations. Not so much in county seats in Aroostook, Washington, Piscataquis Counties.

Metal detector screening for someone high profile for murder trials, if we had gangs, where there is a flight risk and the extra caution belt and suspenders needed.

To up hold the due process, to protect the accused. The witnesses, their army of spiffed up, cuff linked, monogram shirt three piece attorneys. To orchestrate the ready freddy to testify and raise their right hand trial appearances. To be sworn in to tell only the whole truth so help me God. To add their two cent pieces in the who, what, where, when and why it all really happened of the legal puzzle piece collection.

As I got my searched for deed copies, scribbled my notes and left the registry the last day of the trial and metal detector screening, I thought what better job could the two security gentlemen have had that long, not much happening week. Of pretty slow, hanging around the first floor of the court house. First thought was weatherizing Maine houses. So the sweetheart elderly widow with walker inside this one, or the house full of rambunctious kids in that one could get some much needed insulation.

To end up spending less money they did not have. Shelling out the cash lacking, in tight supply to heat their respective homes or apartments this Maine winter.

To keep pipes, people, house pets from freezing. With a north facing new insulated storm window or two added here. Weather stripping sealing in the front and back door there. And like a sundae, top it all off with another six inch blanket. Pile it on thick of fiberglass strips or loose material with a high R value cherry on top in the attic.

Applying what might be needed in a big state like Maine in one place where the population is way higher the closer down the pike you get to the big green bridge at the other end. To smaller, eleven people per square mile rural areas in the other corners might be misplaced, wasteful in the 4th lowest crime state. Where those hinterland frugal locations are half that pretty impressive state lawless figure. Expenditures that could be avoided to cut costs. Or money shifted, better spent in other areas where the needs are greater, the return sweeter win win. It’s always a challenge, full time best practice exercise in a state like Maine.

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

November 27, 2013