Physically wrecked, wracked, and ruined by too much biking on Day 1, on Day 2 we tried to keep things a little easier. We took the bus south and walked a nice little trail to a little-populated stone beach called Little Hunters. I like the blue-gray/rust-orange color combination here. Then more walking onward to Seal Harbor, where no food was open except an ice cream snacky place; so, ice cream for lunch! And the discovery of an amazing little shop/exploratorium, the Naturalist’s Notebook. Onward to the nearest bus – naturally, no buses in freaking Seal Harbor, bite me COVID – more of a schlep than I wanted to do, but I always push myself on vacation.
Let’s call the first full day “Day 1.”
On the bikes! We thought the best thing about Acadia last time was being able to bike until we were ready to drop, then hop on a bus home. So off we went, bike, bike, bike. I knew beforehand that there were fewer bus routes operating this year than usual due to COVID. But I stupidly thought that the routes they kept would more or less cover the park, and not all be concentrated in the most congested areas. So I took us a bit far afield, and then when we actually studied the online map, we discovered we were nowhere near a bus. And boy did we have to schlep to get to the nearest route. Bite me COVID!!!
I felt like we had biked the equivalent of Cadillac Mountain, everything was just so freaking hilly. We seemed to be stuck in an Escher drawing where we were constantly going uphill.
So had a big lavish Italian meal afterwards.
I promise that not every picture in this calendar is going to be alcohol.
We’re back and that means it’s time for the vacation Page-a-Day calendar!
Our modest vacation this year was a week in the Bar Harbor/Acadia section of Maine. We went in 2019 and felt we’d barely scratched the surface.
We rolled in last Saturday night and headed to town, which was of course packed for Labor Day weekend. Nevertheless we were seated and served quickly at Beerworks. My beer has blueberries in it. That was theme for several days until I felt like I was going to turn into a blueberry. Anyway you can see the glass shouting out to Atlantic brewing, which makes very good stuff.
Played with some beautiful mohair last night.
And now… panic in the streets… leaving for Maine tomorrow!
Sam is a woman my age who makes an impulse buy – a house. An adorable old house in the middle of Syracuse; she will live there alone. I.e., she will leave her husband. For the house. For the chance to live in this lovable house alone.
Intrigued by this appealing dream-I-will-never-actually-live, I picked up this novel eagerly, but was disappointed. Sam is just so unlikeable. I mean, I’m unlikeable too, but she is super vitriolic, self-pitying, and self-aware only to the extent that she realizes she’s self-pitying and it makes her more self-pitying. C’mon, I’m not THIS bad, am I?
Also, it turned out to be heavy on the mother-daughter stuff that doesn’t interest me.
My weird predilections aside, being as objective as I can be, I think the book really does suffer from its central character’s unlikability, and weird digressive way of wrapping things up. Thumbs down.
Another photo taken on our mohair-dropping road trip Saturday.
Buy GMS mohair yarn. The goat you knit may be my own.
My shiny mohair yarn hanging up for sale at Six Loose Ladies in Chester, VT.
That’s all I can bags, I can’t bags no more…
Bagging up mohair locks for consignment, as I won’t be selling anything in person this year.
Maybe there’ll never be a fair again. Maybe they’ll forget how to have one.