MeInMaine Blog

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  • Simple Living Taught, Shown To Young Maine Grasshoppers.

    Four Season Maine Living. All Four Seasons.
    Finding Simple Living Serves Best, Mainers Are Happy, Content, Industrious And Work Harder To Preserve The Things, The Basics That Matter Most.

    Being content, at peace starts with knowing you have more than enough. Everything you need for survival and happiness is within us all.

    But somehow along the way the simple living, easy does it moderation can go to heck in a hand basket. Getting caught up in marketing, and overspending happens when we are convinced we can not be so happy without this or that toy, merchandise, service. Told, lectured living happily ever after without something means order before midnight today. With three easy, one last not so much fun payments.

    The simple approach to life is the template for Maine living for a couple reasons. First, not a state flush with extra cash to splash. We don’t show off, need to be the center of attention or keep up with the Jones’s. The Jones’s with all the glitz move away. Because all the trinkets and monetary rewards from success don’t play well in simple, down to Earth help your neighbor Maine.

    Second, simple living in Maine means less exasperation or chomping at the bit anxious feelings to crank it up several hundred RPM. You miss the small joys, the splendor, the fun of being lucky enough to live in Maine. If possessed with that NASCAR pit stop life approach wind up day in and out. Like a marathon where you bust a gut in the beginning leg. Then peter out from sheer exhaustion because you did not pace yourself.

    True Mainers born and bred into simple living are happy with what they have.

    Grateful for what they possess and not lamenting what they don’t. What they earn and respect, take care of because the money comes hard. The weather is a little more of a challenge. And a nest egg for a severe dip, twist in the road of life means live a tad below your means. It is not square, not hokey, not suffering, just sensible. Disciplined to not be a burden on anyone else.To row your own boat, pitch in for the greater good and to be productive. With a positive purpose providing value filling our many small, scattered Maine family rich communities.

    Early medicine growing up the same simple approach. Not racing to the hospital with the sign of a sniffle. And Mom relying on old tried and tested favorites in a much smaller family medicine cabinet. Cod liver fish oil, a teaspoon of that will cure what ails you. Heated up and rubbed on your chest when you are achy, have a cold. Gargling with just warm water and salt when the pipes of the gullet get sore. Flat coke syrup and ginger ale, a few crackers when nothing wants to stay down at the other end of the stomach.

    But along with the simple medicine approach, wisdom of the older generation with sage advice about get your sleep.

    My three older brothers and I reminded to get your rest. That things don’t look so good the next day when you don’t. That a body not cared for gets worn down, sick. Bundle up when you go out. Count your blessings to reassure, remind you how lucky we all truly are in so many ways. Your mental, physical, spiritual outlook all up to you to maintain, preserve, protect. Taught to hang loose, don’t get shook up. Be patient. Tomorrow is a new day.

    Our work, labor, profession defines us too.

    Do your best, work hard to become better and to provide a warm, loving house for your children. Keep it looking respectable with maintenance that is cheaper if not neglected in the long run. Contribute to your local community. Explore Maine’s nooks and crannies with your family. Get them educated and prepared for when the parents are gone. And they move up a generational notch in the simple game, process of life.

    If is harder for some out of state Maine real estate buyers I see to warm up to the notion of simple living. Who find it hard to give up the crutches being a little more affluent can create. But those crutches, the neediness for stuff you can live without clutter your life. Interfere with the basics of living in a simple but drop dead gorgeous natural Maine setting. Starting fresh, without a mountain of debt and this, that stripped away. That you thought you can not live without that all come with a price.

    Replaced as you settle down from the hurry scurry.

    With new found appreciation for a Maine sunrise. The promise of a day to not waste. Filled with wholesome, basic events you make yourself. And reflection at sunset that you accomplished much. Not just on the outside but your inside. Contentment, peace, inner joy makes the world around you, the people in it more enjoyable. Get to Maine, settle down and find what’s been missing.

    Other Maine blog articles….

    Maine Birds, Give Them A Winter Snack.

    Maine Neat Older Homes Admired, Respected, Cared For.

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

  • Not Into Maine Hunting, Fishing, Snow Sledding, So Now What?

    Sit Back, Take It All In. Maine.
    Outdoors, No Office Desks, No Deadlines. Your Outdoor Therapy.

    You don’t look good in blaze orange, get tangled up casting a fishing line.

    And snow sledding, down hill or cross country skiing is not your cup of tea. But hope others love all the above in Maine. What to do for other sources of fun? Glad you asked.

    The State Of Maine Tourism people suggestions should help break the ice on other activities to consider. Maine is lots more than hunting, fishing, snow sledding trips. And lighthouse tours of Maine’s many are a life long collection. To revisit and take away something different each time. Under your own power, hiking picnicing in Maine is one low cost family fun option too.

    See a puffin, explore the many Maine islands, the north woods, Allagash Wilderness Waterway.

    Or 101 other Maine things to do. I am home based in Northern Maine, Discover Aroostook County. Or white water rafting, carriage rides part of Maine’s excitement too.

    Being handy to Baxter Park, biking the trails of Acadia Park are two favorites.

    But to each their own right? The point is not to waste a place with the space called Vacationland. So much to do in our own backyard, in state. So so lucky to be living, to have raised kids in Maine full time. Not having to settle for just a weekend, a stretch of days once a year to jam it all in. Would not do the place justice.

    The photostream of Maine might offer suggestions of what looks like fun to you. So could Maine local community videos. Toggle them, sit back and listen and see what generates inside. For help in the kick in the pants to enjoy all Maine has to offer. To get started because life is too short. Find out what made in Maine means.

    Maine, she’s waiting.

    Never been here? You are in for one big surprise. Hang on, come for a day. End up staying a lifetime. Come learn all the stuff the Maine tourist information brochure leaves out. Had to edit that just would not fit. She’s that extra special.

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

  • The Lawn In Houlton Maine Mowed Like, Kept Like The One At The White House.

    Do You Remember When Cary Library In Houlton Maine Had Glass 2nd Level Floors?
    Marjorie Black, Ralph’s Wife Worked At Cary Library in Houlton Maine.

    The Maine family stories you pass on that may or may not be so accurate.

    Because you were little. Just not paying, giving all your limited, young undivided attention to the chain of events.

    Missing some of the faded historical facts. With mental filters sifting, sorting from only a kid’s pair of eyes, a relatively new set of ears.

    Not taking notes on a tall binder ring top reporters pad.

    Not thinking about referring back, blogging about observations someday.

    And now knowing entertainment has crept, permeated into the five “w”‘s in news gathering. Beefed up, high tech story telling, yarn spinning which is part of the day to day survival in rural Maine. Exchange of the news, the history but with a little polish. I did not say spin for some hidden agenda. Just the hand rubbed, home made twist to the chain of events that we all experience in a more connected, smaller Maine home town experience.

    For starters small Maine towns are less people but all working pretty much in unison for the greater good of the sparse population. Keenly aware, delicately wired with some common leads. Salt and peppered with the same common sense strand of DNA to survive, be happy and content with less. Which creates more lasting value in a person’s life spent pretty much outdoors all four season in Maine. Basking in the natural beauty. Gleaning what matters most in quiet, reflective times alone in the Pine Tree state one of a kind settings.

    Ralph Black was my God father.

    No no, not the kind where someone ends up startled with a dead horse in a bed. He and Marjorie had no kids but were very much involved in a good way with their nieces, nephews from their home country of Canada. The border crossed after World War I to the US, to Maine where they raised their right hand together. Recited in unison with the rest in the room the proper words in the correct places to step back. And blend in with the new citizenry.

    Ralph had a perpetual cough, rasp.

    Clearing his throat in a hardly audible way if you and I were around him and engaged, distracted in an activity, conversation. But done enough to notice when you were caught up in your business, industry. I inherited the lawn mowing job from my brother Brian. For their small two bedroom ranch home built next to where our family lived on Franklin Avenue in Houlton Maine.

    Ralph was a quiet, gentle man. Marje was the color, the conversation. While Ralph smiled. Listened, coughed softly like the miss of an engine long past due for a valve job. Or carb adjustment. Or new electrical points that might come with a cracked distributor with moisture raising havoc with the engine purr.

    My parents loaded up the pick up and ferried several round trips from the intown home to the Maine farm my great Uncle Finley left to my Dad and Mom when the orignal owner of my middle name woke up dead one morning.

    His widow, a Florence Nightingale WWI nurse of sorts with a slew of stories traded places with our family. In a move from the country two miles to an in town spot. Aunt Hettie was a wealth of stories, wisdom, interactions of her own. Other Aunt Hettie blog post fodder for another day.

    Ralph Black was a loyal worker of the Almon H Fogg Company. The place sold hardware, sporting goods, everything but food, spirits, smokes pretty much. Tight as the proverbial bark on a tree. But practicing frugality as a perfect, unwavering science. A two legged model of a well run business. Thats ways spilled over into his real home life that I was part of along with a cast of other average Joes, Janes.

    His tan Chevy Corvair that Ralph Nadar was gunning for, had in the cross hairs was spotless.

    So was his tan 1966 Pontiac Tempest six cylinder bought new car that could have been an excellent GTO clone candidate. With a new 389 triple carb or 400 cubic inch power plant lowered into the front engine compartment. For weekend timed runs at Winterport Drag Way. The thoughts that meander through a young boy’s mind while trimming grass, mowing the lawn I inherited from my brother Brian.

    The lawn kept current, short to exacting standards that I rode my banana bike to town to mow each week in warmers months. Kept clipped, golf course manicured. With exact trimming with oiled, frequently sharpened clippers, a push “silent” yellow hand mower. And the heavy artillery, a turquoise dual wheel self propelled Ex-Cello reel mower. The two mowers I helped Ralph load into the car trunk each fall. To take to be serviced for the coming spring maneuvers on the steep side hill Maine home lawn. For the huge rear patch, front lawn of grass that was always weed free.

    Ralph and Marje were card carrying members of the lawn police.

    High standards, don’t miss a blade. Not really Gestapo like but close in expectations for their lawn. For everything around them at the Maine home they built. That was not filled with kids of their own. But my comfort while wrestling with the lawn equipment in knowing there is a cold soda, my new favorite kind. And a snack at each completion in the weekly “how did it go” kitchen table lawn debriefing.

    Want A Graham Cracker? 1958 Photo From Ralph And Marjorie Black's Houlton Maine Lawn.
    Happy To Be A Kid In Houlton Maine

    Marje worked at the Cary Library, sang in the choir at the Episcopal Church.

    Ralph ate dry purple seaweed from Nova Scotia called dulse. I know, right up there with Moxie that always struck me as a kin to liquid tree roots and bark pulverized and mixed with old motor oil.

    Pink Canadian peppermints also a treat he had a sweet tooth for munched on wearing his Marine spec crew cut. The kind of severe hairdo that needed the small round push tube of deodorant smelling goop to keep it at attention, straight up. All day.

    Ralph’s small cough from lung shrapnel or trench foot soldier warfare mustard gas.

    Or neither of the above from the Canadian theatre of the first War. That is one of those questions that parents gone does not allow to be asked, answered today.

    Often on his knees in his private spiritual, vegetable garden while I labored mowing. Ralph loved his garden dearly. Tended it with the same degree of lawn standards exactness. In his element in that big garden behind the stick built ranch house. The one with the once thought, best thing since sliced bread light green asbestos siding on Franklin Avenue home in Houlton Maine.

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

  • A Lot Of Respect, A Little Fear And A Better Educational Experience.

    Prepare The Next Generation Like Your Were Taught.
    Beliefs, Family Values, Raising Youngsters With Consistency, Love, Respect For Authority Makes Everyone Happy. In The Long Run.

    Teaching in public and private schools has become more than wrestling with just the three “R”‘s.

    The education of children starts in the home as a necessary partnership with educators. And children learn early on about authority, respect, discipline, healthy routines to keep a lid on the drama, emotional levels in the home. And vice versa, classes in school.

    If there is a stable, happy home with consistent, thought out day to day activities, chores, conversations so everyone feels part of the family. An integral part of the family where each knows they would each be missed if gone. That each has a role, contribution in the growing up, family raising in the home. And that fairness, consistency is dished out in conflict resolutions.

    If what happens early on before school and during the education of the child is missing consistency to avoid confusion, episodes of disrespect, unhappiness and chaos, the squeaky faucet, spigot opens.

    Spewing of toxins can happen. And over time cause disharmony in the household. That spills into the classroom. Interfering with the educational process. And making for one unhappy child. Because the parent does not practice tough love, take the most important job he and she will ever have serious enough. Or is just ill equipped, blind folded in seeing the red flags, missed cues. Maybe a result of their childhood contributes to the family spiral.

    The child too young to fix it him, herself.

    Not knowing what is wrong and their role in gains and setbacks. Confused when everyone tries to make it better but can cause it to be worse with poor timing. Residential quick sand. Causing the child to try anything when leadership, authority in the home is missing. To take charge of a situation that can spiral out of control. Make life crazy for anyone around the unhappy child. That thinks others are responsible. They are. Someone has to be the full time parent. Not the child.

    Teaching is not just shaping the child, preparing them for the big wild blue yonder. And yes, sometimes the cruel, not so fair world out there. But to be resourceful, to be creative and taught how to be happy. To make the most of any situation. That as Annie sings, reminds “the sun will come out tomorrow”. Bet your bottom dollar. To learn early on that there is a reason for the hub bub.

    And like a sports team losing a game, that as the individual player, keep hustling harder, dig deeper. As you can still win. To not lose sight of the goal. To follow the dream. And know you and I are not the only one in it. Gain a lesson from the loss or setback. Take ownership, responsibility. Learn from it.

    Hats off to parents, grandparents, neighbors, educators, coaches, high school business employers who have one of the most important jobs in a child’s life.

    And knowing the education does not stop. Continues with all of us the longer we draw breath, live. And interact with a new crop of kids. The entire village in a small Maine town raises, shapes, guides its most precious resource. Their kids… the leaders, parents, educators of tomorrow passing on beliefs, values, lessons.

    I remember teachers growing up like Mr Elwood Scott.

    During listing a property on Drews Lake to sell, he told me to call him Woody. I told him I could not, and he will always be Mr. Scott. For life. Not just as a kid roaming the high school halls getting an education. Out of respect, and because I always will remember how he ran the high school. With authority, a little humor and a lot of fairness. He had to and it was kept simple. And I did not want to disappoint him. Don’t want detention, have to stay after school. Did not want to disappoint my parents who would back him up if I left some key points out of the story I spun. When I explained why I missed the bus, had to stay after school. And busy them had to please come get me. My Shenanigans, tomfoolery had made other lives harder.

    Mr Scott had the support of the community. I am not so sure every community backs up the administration for fear of law suits today. Because little Jimmy or Suzie that runs things at school, has parents bamboozled at home too. Spoiled, not happy but very capable at getting what they want. At someone else’s expense.

    But Mr Scott was consistent, would not tolerate disrespect and none of us questioned his authority. Neither would our parents, his educational partners. Just like the bus driver who made the call if you were acting out, distracting him on the school run that morning. Who had 55 other noisy, boisterous kids bouncing along the back roads around rural Maine on the way to school. Who had a job to make the morning pick up, afternoon drop off driving the bus in any weather that can suddenly happen living in Maine.

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

  • Maine Photos Where The Lens Gets Steamy.

    I Can See Just Fine. No, I'm Mot Asleep. My Eyes Are Wide Open.
    I See You. Really.

    Taking photos, pictures, images of Maine sometimes means the camera lens steams over.

    Needs to be cleaned before more photos are collected if a farm animal, close up image of a horse is the subject. Breathing fogging if too close happens. Maine deer are a different matter. More elusive, skiddish and you don’t get close without a 400 mm lens or greater. So clouding up the lens is not an issue. It does not get licked by the subject either.

    See other Maine photostream images. Our Maine Tumblr site groups photo sets of Maine too.

    Maine, her beauty is natural, wholesome, real.

    Come collect your own images of Maine. To relive, enjoy, hit places deep inside. Watch local Maine community events videos too. More images, photos at 30 per second with sound can cause a stir inside too.

    Maine, there’s only one place with the space that grabs your heart. Will not let go and you hope she never does. Don’t mind a bit. Don’t stay away so long.

    Follow our Mooers Realty Blog Posts, the Own Maine Real Estate Blog uploads. And the all time heavy hitting Active Rain Maine Blog posts.

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

  • Getting Away To The Maine Woods Camp.

    Fun At A Maine Woods Camp, Start Your Traditions.
    Hidden, But Always Available For Outdoor Sporting Rituals, Traditions, Memory Making.

    In the middle of the Maine woods, what really matters most in life becomes pretty obvious.

    The simple cabin that is your home away from home for the get away experience is solid. Small, with a sleeping loft, bunks and usually only one, possible two rooms total. Nothing palatial, pedantic, gaudy. Made of log. Sometimes t-111 panels, vinyl siding or board and batten design. Cedar shingles or even tar paper. Maybe asphalt shingles for exterior walls because all they had. What occured at the Maine woods camps, cabins built years ago by sportsmen who long ago woke up dead. Are gone.

    Not a lot of windows. Always a central wood stove. Maybe an extra antique cook stove or end heater to supply the only heat. To have a fresh pot of coffee always hot and ready. Food at camp is served in warm, heaping large portions. Under gas lights. And always old favorite recipes used to create what’s on the camp menu. Year after year. Roasts, baked beans, chili, home made bread and biscuits. Pies, squares, cookies. Along with game shot fresh from the woods. Or fish angled, hooked, caught in nearby streams, lakes, ponds.

    Recreation besides the trails around the Maine camp includes outdoor horseshoe competitions.

    Inside card playing from poker to cribbage and everything in between. Rainy days are special and around the wood stove. Music in the background. Sunshine causes the camp to be be vacant. As the reason to be at camp, the outdoor fresh air is tapped into, enjoyed completely. Year after year with practiced rituals. Making never fade memories. New generations introduced to the woods camp in Maine experience.

    Not just fall hunting trips wearing camo green, brown or simple blaze orange.

    Not just during summer blue skies and warm temperatures. But year round. Winter Maine snow sled trips where the sound of the wind in the pines and the crackling fire, the glow of the dancing flames help you drift off to sleep. And causes you to wake energized and relaxed at the same time. But laying in bed thinking, pondering, caught up in the special space in the Maine woods. Because no mowing lawns, no changing the car oil, no clean up puttering around the primary residence. Dipping into the job jar “honey do list” not on the agenda this weekend. Or seven day span centered around just total outdoor recreation, seasonal sporting passions.

    A substantial door to discourage crime but the structure is located in an area of near nil for misdeeds.

    Not the target of theft, a break in. Because of the not so easy access. Not much of value in the sparse, high mileage furnishings of casts offs from home. And respect by others in the woods for the base camp much like their own. Kept pretty much like you left it after the last outing. In an area not zero for crime incidents, hanky panky. But awfully close to it.

    The family tradition members or bunch of sporting buddies that frequent the Maine woods camp have photos to share. Stories to tell. About game that got away. Snow sleds that broke down on the way to town to visit the nearest refreshment center. Jeeps that needed winching, wagon jacks to lift and wedge log ends or rocks under the muddy wheels to get to or from camp. Depending on the weather and the amount of natural rain water to deal with in twitch trails and skidder rutted roadways.

    Trails long abandoned, growing up to brush.

    But once a buzz of activity a few years back. Used by wood cutters to crawl in, knock down and drag out sawed, fallen trees of mixed soft and hardwoods. To yards cleared for wood processing. To create the opening, clearing site for the simple Maine woods camp. Plus the little shed, shack out back with the moon slit carved in the door. Visited by all. Stocked, supplied with a couple old Uncle Henry’s Sell, Trade And Swap Guide copies. Or some old Field & Stream, maybe something a little racier for reading material. Maine, the living, lifestyle is simple, the people are not.

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