We fed on furled fronds from a fledgling fern; fantastic they were. The S.O., a female, fawned over the ferns since arriving in Maine from further south. “Can you grab some fiddleheads in your travels? Please. I can’t get them down here,” she said. “I am waiting for the roadside sellers, dear. None have revealed…
Tag: maine life
SNEAKERS
My dad told me a few stories about trudging to school. That’s what dads born before 1945 tended to do. He told me a few times he wore sneakers year-round through the western Maine winters. He explained he had to wear thicker socks in cold weather. Any kid worth his salt on the baseball diamond…
Road Trips, Pricey Coleslaw, and Lunch at Gramp’s Old Cabins
The last time that I ate lunch on the porch of the lilliputian cabin was in August of 1969. Back then, the shiplap siding was bright white with red trim slathered on the boards of the eaves and all vertical edges. My grandfather had a retired fireman’s affinity for the color red. The fog that…
No Need For a Gold Watch
I shouldn’t have mentioned it to D’wayne, that’s not his real name, but it’s what I call him. There’s and old Key & Peele sketch that I like very much, D’wayne has never seen it. He humors me by accepting the moniker. “At least we’ve had a pretty decent dry spell. Your camp road is…