MeInMaine Blog

Category: Uncategorized

  • Winter Snow Helps Maine’s Economy.

    See Maine On A Snow Machine, Sled.
    Smoothing The Way, Making The Snow Sled Trail Paved With New White Fluff.

    A Maine snow less winter would be akin to Southern California without day after day of sunshine and instead plenty of rain.

    There are many myths about Maine weather, making it into something more akin to the Arctic Circle surroundings. Like someone flipped the weather channel to life near the top or bottom poles. Whoa. That’s not Maine.

    We have no Maine polar bears, no ice carved villages of igloos. Get way more than twenty minutes total sunshine each winter. The locals don’t wander around in fur garb and mukluks. Are not stumbling aimlessly in the dark all winter long. Tongue clucking, shouts of yip yip to motivate teams of huskies to negotiate drifts only happening in Fort Kent Maine dog sled competitions in March. For entertainment, the sport. Not survival, not round the clock the way things roll.

    The last few winters in Maine it is been like the situation some wannabee ranchers test positive for…. all hat and no cattle.

    Painfully light in the white fluffy snow department. No white stuff means more expense making snow with high pressure air and water on Maine ski areas slopes, trails. It’s pretty hard on a Maine snow sled, snowmobile to have fun fun fun on the trails if a blanket of new snow is missing. Didn’t arrive, not shipped, released from up above.

    To groom, shape and create a winter highway through woods, across fields and lakes. To see Maine, get to special places only accessible atop a lean, mean Maine snow sled. Or what some term “ice rockets”. It is a blast to pull the trigger, the need for speed. But knowing you have to not wake up dead. Go to work Monday morning. And that full coverage space age helmet is not going to protect you from careless, dangerous, snow sledding full of fire water, barley pops. Tread lightly. Be good stewards.

    This morning, after much newsprint and recycled electrons media hoopla, it remains to be seen when the snow settles if Old Man Winter created an “historic, epic N’ortheaster winter weather extravaganza”.

    We live in Maine, it’s winter guys and gals. But maybe the heavy rotation spotlight on the Maine winter snow load patterns, the drought of no two alike flakes piling up has made us desperate. For the weather channel, the national weather service and media types during a winter slow snow news day to seize the chance.

    Like blaze fighters parked, just hanging around the fire house way too long. Itching, restless to go out on a call to fight fire with, ‘er hoses, ladders, axes. To spring into gear with lights, sirens. What they were trained, born to do. So we may finally have a real rip snorting Maine winter storm brewing. To buzz about because chummy, you know we like to talk about the Maine weather. It can get wicked blustery let me tell you mister man. Change (finger snap sound) just like that. You gonna eat that lobstahhh claw, plate of steamahhhs ? Pass, slide ‘er this way will ya? Thank you muchly as Thelma Henderson likes to say. Maine winter snow shoveling works up one healthy appetite don’t ya know.

    Maine Winter Snowstorm Video.

    I have a Maine farm home rented to folks that know snow. That cross country ski, snow shoe, love winter outdoor recreation and all the beauty that comes with it. Waiting for a little Maine winter snow that is just starting to percolate from the heavens above. To create enough to plow out the Maine winter snow from the driveways. Embarrassed to have to go way way back to 2008 for a Maine winter snowstorm video. To remember what they look, feel like. As I blog, tap out the words and sample a fresh hot black cup of joe, I am waiting for enough new Maine snow to cover the bald spots. Create enough to plow.

    To relive the kid like wonder of lots of new fresh fallen Maine snow.

    Remembering, experiencing again like a small child. Digging tunnels, making forts, getting to down hill ski or snow sledding during a Maine winter and all that fresh air energizes you. Maine winter snow, not a dirty four letter word. It pumps lots of money into the local, state tourism coffers. Spread the word, we’ve got snow in Maine. Better enjoy it while it lasts, is here. The groundhog did not see his shadow remember? Spring is over the next hill.

    Maine, big beautiful and full of wildlife. Every season offers a new spin, hits you from a completely different angle just when you thought you had her all figured out. Come for a day, stay a lifetime.

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

  • The Shadow You Create That Follows You On Line.

    Slow Down, Watch Out.
    Like Maine Moose, Pop Ups, Spam, Cookies Hard To Miss On The Internet Highway Surfing.

    Spam, cookies, pop ups. Not talking finger foods here.

    It takes a little to know when you are being followed, tailed, tracked. Out of the corner of your eye in your travels online, you notice a small image. Of something that interests you. Because the day before you were looking at a ski jacket, accessory clothing just like that one. And (rubbing eyes, removing sand man sleep aid residue) you say self, that IS the coat I ordered. Or the same three of them I was checking out. Isn’t that a coincidence? Not, that is a sticky site that has you on retail radar.

    Along the right hand side of your email in box, there it is again.

    Like a Maine moose that shows up a lot, except during hunting season lay low periods. Or when they put on camo, go undercover. What’s up with that? On other product websites and social media playgrounds, there is the same color, style, identical coat showing up all wall to wall. But on top or to the side so as not to be too big, too obtrusive or irritate. And you figure it’s part of the cost to underright the Internet information highway. Like the ad slug bar along the bottom the first time you open up some videos. That you can opt out of in a few seconds.

    But many easily “x”ed out hitch a rides not that long.

    Pretty entertaining in their own right. Plus tied, flavored to match what usually comes up for a search result. Worth a peek, consideration if you have a few moments to look and listen. Consider the message that it ever so subtly plants in your grey matter. Behind your eyes, between your ears. All about cookies and this kind, are they good, bad in moderation? Not the kind you should not eat close to the time the dinner bell goes off, rings.

    Being in a hurry online means clever watch where you step schemes get launched as soon as you check off, “sure, get me on your list for new deals, bargains, blue light specials”. Which really means, go ahead, screw up my days ahead. And sell my information, email, contact data. Or just help yourself to the IP address and study my shopping talent as a voyeur marketer.

    Advertisers use these techniques because they work.

    They understand the way the surfer’s mind, habits work. And dove tail lots of creative ways to hitch a ride on wherever you surf online. Capturing your IP address and then stoking the marketing fires by funneling paid information your way subtly. And not so shyly.

    Have you noticed your ad shadow and wondered if it was just you? It is not high school skinny and getting bloated. As more and more tacked ons surround the marketing plate. Like a fully slotted greasy spoon diner business place mat. That work as you whistle, hum, kill time until your order ding dings. Is come and get it up, piping hot and ready to feast on. Maine, simple living with a greater awareness. Don’t stay away so long. She’s drop dead gorgeous and does not like to be stood up, kept waiting. Get here quick as you can.

    Other Maine Blog Posts …. Need Power, Electric, Juice In Northern Maine, Who Ya Gonna Call?

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

  • Baby Hope, The Clydesdale Horse That Oohhhed, Ahhhed The World.

    Maine Barn Yards Produce New Young Stars, Hopes.
    Full Of Hope, Life, A Future. Shaky, Wobbly On New Unsure But Very Determined Long Legs.

    What is it about small animals, babies that cause everyone in the room, within earshot to raise their speech patterns an octave or two?

    To lighten up, forget their problems momentarily. To talk in another baby coochie coochie language. All eyes, total attention on the small baby with a natural respect reflex in all of us. That a soldier would exercise, second nature too. If someone yells officer on deck, in the room, present. Ten hut eyes forward, square those shoulders and stand up straight respect.

    The baby Clydesdale foal with the spindly legs that are too long, don’t all work in unison yet caught the world’s attention during the Super Bowl this year.

    Or rather the Commercial Bowl. Instead of snarky, bright white perfect teeth, evenly tanned paid actors. Or witty repeat stunts like three frogs on a swamp log (because it was in Louisiana) croaking BUD – WISE – ERRRRRr. Nope, something new, special, young was introduced to the pigskin game watchers.

    Not even named yet.

    And there’s where the ad people adjusted their marketing thinking caps. Sharpened pencils, crayons, percolated a new fresh hot pot of coffee. Burned the midnight oil. Racking their brains. Taking turns, standing around easels splashed with fluorescent lighting. Huddled in a skyscraper floor to ceiling glassed conference room with amazing river, skyline city views. One by one pitching their ad ideas of what to run in the expensive spot this year for the red and white giant. To represent the adult barley pop maker but in need of a name.

    By a small pink and white whiskered nose, the Budweiser ad won top honors in the horse ratings race.

    The football top bowl game featured 55 commercials. Costing 40 advertisers $3.8 million to $4 million per 30-second broadcast spot. Watched on CBS by up to to 111 million viewers.

    But back to before all that. The ad folks, the guy up front creating the hand drawn cartoon story board of scenes. At the same time a supporting PowerPoint collaboration splashed on a diamond crusted screen. To see the ad commercial concept scenes take shape. Forming with input from the table surrounded by white shirts. All those loosened or removed striped tied, top button undone executives. Brainstorming to produce something memorable. A new baby foal, Clydesdale horse the star and image used since 1933 to carry the carriage, marketing Budweiser refreshment name.

    The baby horse, filly someday a mare is named Hope.

    What better handle, name gleaned from over 60,000 twitter tweets. Solicited, tapped out from out in cyber space by you and I. Full of hope. A new beginning. A start of a life. Paralleling the story line of Rudolph although not birth defect red nosed that becomes a blessing, a super power. After the “never let him play in any reindeer games” treatment wore off. And he became high flying popular. Unique. Special. Giving kids, Santa, Mrs Claus, parents hope. When the weather channel and NORAD had made the North Pole a restricted, no fly zone.

    New Budweiser Foal Horse Named Hope By World Write In Tweet Process.

    Had a Maine real estate seller who worked in the works into the office this morning. I knew Earl Thibodeau cut woods pulp logs back in the 1950’s. And asked him about the type of Maine horses used for the lumber work. He said nothing about Clydesdale, Percheron, but just lumped them all in the category of mixed blood plain jane, Heinz 57 variety work horses.

    Earl worked with a Clarence White of Littleton Maine and a pair of work horses.

    In the woods, cutting down the trees with a very heavy chain noisy saw. No protective gear or OSHA looking over his shoulder. Laboring hard enough not to get cold. The felled tree delimbed by hand. One by one. Then the patient horse backed up, a few logs choker chained together. Hooked to the cross bar traces. The rump of the horse tapped to kick him into gear.

    The Maine work horse knows the routine. Drilled to unaccompanied drag the twitch of logs to the yard. Where Clarence backs him off the load tension, unhooks and another tap on the rump, maybe a cluck of the tongue and “hey hey” tell the horse to head back into the woods toward the chainsaw wielding Earle to retrieve another log bundle.

    If the horse fetches up on a stump, he instinctively knows to back up, go one side to continue down the woods path to the open yard clearing.

    If snagging happens again, back up, go the other side of the stump. All on automatic pilot. While one man continues to cut down and delimb trees to prepare another twitch load. The other saws timber up into smaller lengths, and slowly loads a truck or trailer out in the wood’s yard.

    As a kid I remember on the Maine farm seeing a big pair of work horses coming up the front driveway. No people to guide or ride them. And walking by me, straight into a make shift hovel set up behind the barn. And waiting for one of the pair of woodsmen to show up. Unhook the leather harnesses. Grain, water, to throw in a few flakes of hay as reward. With a loving rub of a currie brush over the area under the harness.

    Cleaning out the work horses hooves with a pick and checking for cuts, bruises needing liniment, ointment, salve.

    Horses talked to, neck stroked and scratching behind their ears. Places they can not reach easily. Rewarded for a good day’s work. Wished my Aunt Ruth, the Maine horse lady was alive to ask about work horse varieties in Aroostook County. I know local Maine attorney Michael Carpenter has many used to pull the Acadia National Park Maine horse carrier tour rides.

    Local Frenchie Paradis had a big work horse called Dewey.

    That woodsman Dave Wilson used to help yard out firewood. Have to find out what actual kind of Maine woods work horse he really was. What he had for bloodlines or a pedigree if any. Kids could hang all over, off him with no fuss. A gentle giant. His disposition easy going, friendly, calm. Like some people that don’t bite, kick either.

    Maine rural living, most of our time any of the four seasons spent outdoors. Just where we like to be. You could raise horses like “Darla’s Darling” my pick, tweet for the new name in a foal frenzy that is over.

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

  • Maine Farm Life, We Work Hard To Keep It Easy, Simple.

    Maine Farm Living, Hard Work, Simple Living.
    More Content With The Basics… Warm Home, Good Hot Home Made Food, Clean Bed, Plenty Of Family Love. A Jack Of All Trades Self Sufficient Satisfaction.

    The lead in question on every Facebook social log in page is “how are you feeling, doing?”

    Providing an open invitation space, place. To check in. Hunt and peck fill out to tell the world how your life is currently unfolding, right here and now. This very second. To start the conversation. Cause engagement. Establish an online connection.

    Maybe what you post to update family, friends, neighbors. Joyful, maybe tearful.

    Or you’re so bored. All to save the need for a phone call check in. Avoid letter writing. Quick and easy. Short and sweet up to date. Yours, mine, our feelings are the end all to share. Being personally happy seems to be the most important digital dream. But for some reason the most stubborn, elusive of the feelings bundle today.

    While there’s a 180 degree shift from “it’s all about making others happy” golden rule to follow. Providing whatever you can to cheer and console was the default. When you are lucky enough to have a little more. Blessed and grateful for your plight in life. Because it’s just a whisker rosier, brighter than the next person you stumble, bump into, placed in your path.

    In Maine, it’s making the most of what you have. It’s being content that you have any thing at all. And doing everything in your power while still walking above ground, drawing a breath. To make it better than it was. Not lamenting, whining, complaining because this, this and oh yeah, that is missing.

    And not telling yourself you would be happy if you had something you don’t.

    Or looking way back. Rear view mirror mortgaging your happiness today with something in life’s past. That did not end up the way you had hoped, dreamed. But if you could only go back and change a few events, avoid a couple turns it would be so different now. Living life today does not work that way. Let go or get dragged rehashing the past sharp edged mistakes lurking, looping in those head tapes.

    Accept the lessons learned.

    Happily ever after long term is now off autopilot. Diverted to some brand new series of shorter, unchartered airport touch and goes. Sit back, enjoy the inflight movie. Sure, you can come up to first class. It’s your life flight. But through the static, someone just radioed in a new flight plan. A different course. Buckle up. No smoking. Stay in your seet. You better adapt to, hunker down and from quietly on your knees learn why if you don’t already know. And as Winston Churchill reminded, “if you are going through hell, keep going.

    Someone not from Maine but the land of opulent, elegant living has lots of crutches where money does seemingly grow on trees, is no object.

    Gets more and more dependent on the stacks of dead Presidents. Or whipping out the plastic. The day to day is pretty much store bought. That temporary, happy feeling is sought, created from outside you and the vast wordly treasures amassed, collected, stockpiled that surround for show and tell.

    Maine is lasting, home made baked from the inside out. Our simple lifestyle defines a resilient person. Not your check book balance. Not your fleeting, hit or miss available credit limit use to impress or build envy in others. Winter Maine farm country living here means trudging down to the Maine farm house root cellar.

    For a handful out gems out of the locally grown, winter stored Maine potato barrel collection. To go with the carrots hoisted up, shook off, pulled out of the sand. To compliment the cabbage in the slice and diced coleslaw salad. Snatching a jar of bread and butter pickles, stewed tomatoes off the shelf on the way back to the kitchen. Canned, stacked, stored a few months back.

    Lifting the lid of the large chest deep freeze. Tonight pawing through, selecting a white wrapped package courtesy of Sirloin the beef steer. Who had a great spring, summer, fall on the back forty. Made it to the processor alive. But came home wearing magic marker identifier scribbling. In uniform, individual pieces. Sized to exactly match, feed, fill the number of plates around the Maine farm kitchen table each night.

    After school Maine farm kids have chores.

    Are not in front of a television. Scrape and paint buildings. Plant, cultivate, harvest crops. Help Dad, learning how to weld, braze, work with tools to repair broken equipment. Two kids alternate filling the wood box. Keeping ambers glowing brightly.To warm up to for a winter fire in the kitchen antique cook stove off the pantry.

    Others youngsters watering, graining, haying and cleaning out the animal stalls in the Maine farm barn. Checking off the mental list box afterwards. Remembering to reach underneath the hens before heading in for supper. To see what the “bawk bawk bawk” bunch created to crack open. To play a big part in Maine farm fresh breakfast tomorrow.

    Warm mittens lovingly created with with a pearl one, knit two efficiency in your favorite color. As your mom looks up, smiles, listens. Adds to the conversation from her rocker with the skein string slowly feeding the age old hand made process. As she second nature attaches the thumbs. Then another wool model makes it to the end of the assembly line. Ready to be put into winter hand protection.(To be continued….)

    Too busy running the roads for kid’s extrecurricular activities and out of breath hurry hurry, faster faster is not healthy. Not the way things get done on the Maine farm. Ever thought about owning one? Let’s talk. Soon.

    Maine. She’s outdoors. Playing, working, learning from the four season natural beauty. No one wants to come in unless they’re bleeding, it’s time to eat or bedtime.

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

  • Maine, What I Hear On The Streets.

    What's Happening, What Do We Do?

    Huddled together, the couple Saturday morning who toured the house in Monticello Maine newly married.

    She from England, he from the states. And both had been living in Israel together. Interesting talk during the property walk about the long process of getting US citizenship for the red head wife. Take a number, have a seat. Hurry up and wait.

    Sensing a little edgy animosity around the light, bright conversation. Because of the illegal aliens that skirt, skip around the Candyland game board seemingly much easier. Below radar, traveling light. Not needing official regulation chutes and ladders. Without the thick stack of stamped, triplicate legal paperwork weighing them down. Following them in a bloated, straining three ring embossed binder tucked, protected under one arm.

    We talked about how rabid serious soccer is taken in England.

    How space in London is at a premium. With rules for sportsmen etiquette. The do’s and don’ts watching, following a game match and what can be uttered at a crowded loud, shouting corner pub if you value your life. But still be a loyal, proud fan of Chelsea, Arsenal, whatever your team’s colors, heritage, season record. Just like the German’s have ethics on their Autobahn. About souped up VW beetles sneaking by. Actually passing a sleek, more expensive BMW, Porsche or Mercedes on the open, no holds barred wild ride roadway.

    The next pair linked up with right on schedule from Rhode Island back at the Maine real estate office.

    Built, own, wrestle with a whopping 5300 square foot home in southern New England. But now that two daughters, their three horses and the busy run run run exhaustive schedule are poof, gone, time to seriously get high school skinny downsized.

    They too echo a familiar theme. Want a property listing with healthy supply of Maine land wrapped around it. But this Maine home shown not finished. Weather tight but just bare studs inside. Walls needing insulation stuffed in, mucho grande interior work. From top to bottom. Side to side. Monday, expecting to hear it’s a green light. A go to move forward with a Maine property listing purchase and sale agreement.

    Next segue to a conversation with a plumber who shares he was surprised to be contacted for a work order estimate.

    Tapped on the shoulder. For lots of bathrooms in an extensive, complicated remodeling job. Where the local Maine house owner is a very close next of kin to someone in his same water and waste profession. Cutting, bending, shaping the same copper tubing. Soldering the identical faucets, flanges, fittings. And him head scratching wondering what’s up with that? Classic case of separating love and the checkbook when blood related.

    The family member never intending to hire him. Heavens no.

    But he hauled, ushered into the case as a checks and balances mechanism drone alone. For a robotic keeping the sibling honest role. To eyeball, add up, make sure his numbers are inline impeccable. The bill not padded, bloated. To improve on the bottom line if possible.

    Family can be the most challenging, fun and games in business involving your chosen profession. And you exploited if you are a classic enabler. Sucked into the vortex of drama, back biting if not quick to side step. Avoid, successfully resist the tractor beam.

    Do you like, enjoy listening in on Maine real estate conversations? Simple adventures keeping your eyes and ears open in Northern Maine shared with you the faithful Me In Maine blog post follower. In an attempt, sincere effort to bring you something new, varied, mildly entertaining, a tad though provoking about the human condition.

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

  • Absolutes, Some Are, Some Are Not With Over 31 Flavors Of People.

    No Polar Bears, No Hibernation For Mainers.
    Maine Is Four Seasons, Winter Is One Of My Favorite.

    In my real job of list, market, sell Maine real estate, winter can be viewed by sellers as the “runt” of the seasons litter.

    Often the comment, “Well better wait until spring and take the Maine home, whatever the listing off the market”. Or delay getting it live, advertised. I ask why is that, knowing their response. “Because everyone knows, no one buys Maine real estate in the winter.” Said like every man, woman and child knows that. End of debate. When some like myself in the pack of 31 would respectfully disagree. With all due respect uttered in a Joe Dirt delivery.

    It’s the same answer they would give if on the final round of a Jeopardy quiz game show. With complete confidence that it was the one and only winning response to make. To be the hero and their home town some kinda proud. (Buzzer disqualifying sound).

    Sometimes it’s more of a “I don’t want to move in the winter” in the case of a Maine home, farm house. Not just a quarter of the year that everyone starts playing Quakers Meeting has begun. No one smile. No gum, teeth, tongue showing, and definitely no Maine home listing / selling ya hear?

    The thought hit me leaving a house closing yesterday and climbing back into the jeep parked in front of the courthouse to bee line back to the listing hive.

    We sell lots of Maine homes in winter. Because life does not (sound of record needle screeching, ripping to a musical halt, then pregnant pause silence) take a break when Maine winter snow happens.

    But Maine home owners pulling the marketing plug in winter help the other house seller properties that are available. Like musical chairs, where shorter supply means greater demand. Extra attention to what is on the market happens. Like increased pressure from a restricted, kinked up MLS hose. The flexible seller who says “sure, we can move in winter” opens up, increases the buyer pool size for a local Maine home. Or job transfers, need to move to be closer to an elderly, sickly parent out of state life situations develop. Can’t wait until spring, summer, fall.

    The marketing for the Maine home can continue with a clause, contingency that the possession of it won’t be until the end of April.

    Or some you pick it, the designated “check out” time. But believing no one sells, moves in the winter because you do misses what happens all the time from our experience. Because you would not do something in life is not an absolute that no one else would too.

    Lots of folks disagreed with Chris Columbus about the shape of the world we all spin on. No sir, most would argue, it’s a given everyone knows we populate a blue and green flat rock. Not the absurd notion of a round revolving, tilting marble. What are you smoking? Geesh Louise.

    The Maine home seller who insists on waiting until spring to list because of a few repair updates, invariably finds it is after July 4th by the time we get the marketing machine kicked into full gear. See it happen all the time. So suddenly smaller winter inventory of Maine homes and then watch out. Flood gate, roller coaster of here they come opens up. Running of the bulls crazy. With panic, fear and hurry hurry shoulder to shoulder shoving. Herded, crowded and making an all or nothing inventory supply bottle neck. PSSssst.

    (Whispering) Ignore the memo someone sent about Maine homes don’t sell in winter.

    List that Maine home to market the heck out of it full throttle. Expose it to the four corners of the Earth and back over the Maine winter. Don’t think like some in the 31. To generate Maine home interest on line, far far away. For other folks that may not want to move in winter either just like some of you. But come spring, watch out. Your Maine home Chummy, Mister Man is already sold. Because of the winter connection established with back and forth communication. Watching videos of the Maine homes that are like the next best thing to being there anyway.

    And this just in, the groundhog did not see his shadow.

    Get that Maine home listed, marketed, on its way to the real estate sale closing. There. We can now resume our regular, scheduled Me In Maine blog post programming with that off my chest. Out in the open. Thank you. Off to show a Monticello, then Ludlow Maine home this morning even though I know I know, no one ever sells, buys a home in winter. It’s not true. Witness it happening first hand all the time. Just saying.

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