Visual progress on our English Cottage Garden is finally showing! Lynn’s been in plan mode for a while, designing a quaint cottage garden out in front of our Ballot Box cottage, with an arbor entrance, a meandering pathway of rustic, loosely-spaced pavers of some kind with grass and moss and little flowers in between, beds of all kinds of perennial flowers on either side, a bench for sitting and reflecting, flowering shrubs along the front of the house, all bordered by a white picket fence with rambling roses.
During our very first garden discussions I recognized the fence as being the “cornerstone” for the garden, bounding it and giving visual definition to the project. So we started in the spring by pounding wooden stakes into the ground out front as a “strawman” fence alignment. We needed to live with this faux fence to see if it was placed correctly. Indeed, it wasn’t. We made at least two adjustments, one based on the visual symmetry with the house, and the other related to the view of the fence and the future garden from the dining area picture window.
DigSafe Markings
Once we were satisfied with the placement, we tried calling or visiting a couple of fence companies to see how much it would cost to install a straight-line 24-foot picket fence across a level lawn. After we got back up from where we had fainted, we devised a different strategy, which involved finding the fence parts pre-made and installing it ourselves. We bought PVC picket fence sections and PVC slip-covers for 4×4 posts from Home Depot, with the intent to install three 8-foot sections (with four posts) along the front of the Ballot Box. When I went to install the fence, my garden claw and clam-shell post-hole digger was no match for the summer-hardened clay that was hiding six inches below the imported loam that had been brought in for the lawn. Plan B was to rent an earth auger, but if I was going to throw some power-tool automation at the challenge, I figured I’d better first have DigSafe come in and flag the locations of the three utility conduits that were buried across the front lawn, going from the telephone pole by the street to the corner of the house. There are three conduits in total; one for power, one for the cable for internet and TV, and one empty one waiting for a phone line (we never installed a phone because we have line-of-sight coverage to a cell-tower about a mile away). A Central Maine Power worker came a day or two later and spray-painted and flagged the lawn to indicate where the conduits were buried.
So now we were ready to begin installing the fence, but before we got around to pulling the trigger on plan B, plan C came into focus; a local “fence installer” who was willing to dig the post holes and install the fence for about the cost of renting the auger. He and his son came last Friday and did the work, results being visible in the header photo.
The next step is to dig and bury a feed-pipe conduit from the corner of the house over to the fence, and demarcate the flower beds. The feed-pipe conduit will let me run a quarter-inch irrigation feed-pipe for a drip watering system around the entire perimeter of the garden, where I can tap into the feed-pipe at any location and run rubber tubing to any and many places in the garden that need watering. Then by hooking up a highly programmable faucet switch, we can water the garden at whatever interval we want (once a week, twice a week, three times a week, once a day, twice a day, etc.) for any duration (an hour, 10 minutes, 5 minutes, 2 minutes, etc.). We have these drip systems set up on both our decks (in MA and ME) for the hanging plants on the deck, and it’s a real plant-saver!
We can now declare that summer has officially started; Lynn is firmly ensconced at the Ballot Box until the end of September! We brought her up over the 4th of July weekend. The original plan was to “caravan” up on Friday afternoon with our good friends Peter and Linda, but they called us earlier in the week to let us know that they wouldn’t be able to get away early enough on Friday to make it up to Maine at a reasonable time. They changed their plans to drive up by themselves early Saturday morning, which they did.
That allowed us to drive ourselves up Thursday night after work. We put the “stuff” for Lynn’s summer (at least the stuff we thought of beforehand) in the van and drove up, hitting the road about 8:30 pm and arriving at the Ballot Box about 11:30 pm. I tele-commuted to work for the first half of the day Friday (I *love* broadband internet), and in the afternoon we did some errands; we hit Sully’s dog-and-brat wagon for lunch (before the bridge in Newcastle, heading to Damariscotta), stopped at the post office to pick up any mail (mostly grocery store circulars; we don’t get much mail up here), and we hit the hardware store for some things.
Peter & Linda at Pemaquid Point Park
Peter and Linda arrived as scheduled Saturday morning, and after a lunch of sandwiches at the house, we piled into the van and headed to Pemaquid Point to visit the ocean and the lighthouse in the park. It was a gorgeous day; bright sun, warm breeze, gentle sea. We hit the Sea Gull Gift Shop beside the lighthouse park after the park, and then stopped for ice cream in New Harbor. In Damariscotta we stopped at the fish market by the bridge to pick up lobsters and steamers for dinner that night, then headed home to work up an appetite for crustaceans and bivalves.
Gene & Lynn at Pemaquid Point Park
We cranked the lobster pot up on its stand and fired up the side-burner on the grill to boil water for the steamers. With a bottle of Big Claw white wine, a salad, giant lobsters, and lots of steamers, dinner was a feast!
Unfortunately, Lynn woke up with a raging migraine on Sunday and ended up staying in bed all day. Ice-packs for her head, a run to the grocery store for some ginger ale, and a quiet day spent at the house reading and watching movies were the order of the day. We had planned on spending a quiet day at the house anyway, so nothing was forsaken except Lynn’s head. By evening, Lynn was able to come downstairs and get some nourishment and visiting time; the worst was past and she was on the road to recovery.
By Monday morning (our 37th anniversary!), Lynn was tired but pretty much back to normal, so we all had breakfast together and Peter and Linda and I prepared to depart south, leaving Lynn (and the van) up in Maine. The ride down was uneventful – we left early enough to avoid the Route-1-closing 4th of July parade in Wiscasset. Traffic was fairly light considering it was the the end of the holiday weekend.
I’ll be heading up about every other weekend throughout the summer, usually on Thursday night and tele-commuting on Friday.
The complaint window for gripes about the weather is now open. Card-carrying New Englanders don’t hate winter, they revel in it. There’s a pride of tenacity, of endurance, of survival. But there comes a point when even the crustiest old Yankee has had enough, when winter suddenly feels old and the longing for longer days and warmer breezes creeps into the psyche, when thoughts of baseball and cookouts start to seep into the corners of the subconscious, and that point comes when the page on the kitchen calendar turns and the photo changes from Valentine hearts and cupids to flower buds and puppies. By March, one’s thoughts should lightly turn to spring.
The weather is many things up here in the North Country, but boring is not one of them! We have four distinct seasons (some would say there are more); the bone-chilling, nostril-clamping bitter cold of winter, when the cold permeates everything, when you can’t quite seem to get warm from the time you reluctantly climb out from under the down comforter on the bed in the morning to the time you slip back under the comforter at night, and the light of day seems to be counted in minutes rather than hours; the promise of spring, which starts with short thaws that cause icicles and ice dams and roof leaks, and leads into patches of bare ground, longer days, mud and frequent car washes, and finishes with an earthy outdoors smell of dirt and compost and growing things; the bliss of summer, with cookouts, suppers on the deck, after-dinner walks, listening to baseball on the radio in the dark, and short but miserable heat-waves with oppressive humidity and thunderstorms that cause sensible people to wonder how humans can survive in a place like Florida during this time of year; and finally Mother Nature’s Pièce de résistance – Autumn - with apples, pumpkins, thoughts of harvests, turkey dinners with old-family-recipe stuffing, invigorating cool breezes that combine with breath-taking natural colors to cause pilgrims from all over the world to come to our little corner of the universe to pay homage to the glory and artistry of nature. Then we get to do it all over again.
Lynn and I have an interesting perspective on the transition of winter into spring, since we live in Massachusetts but frequently spend time at the Ballot Box in mid-coast Maine. As would be expected, spring arrives in Massachusetts sooner than in Maine. We still have snowbanks and ice and cold weather in southern New England, but telltale signs have begun to appear that carry the promise of a thaw and a change; the days are noticeably longer than the dire darkness of late December, the winter gray of the gold-finches has started to show a faint yellow tinge, the winter sounds of the birds in general have started to change to courting songs, and the day-night cycle of melt-and-freeze that turns dirt into soup is well underway.
Not as many signs in Maine yet, and the signs are sending a bit of a mixed message. The snowbanks are still growing since it’s still snowing on a regular basis, the songs and plumage of the birds haven’t started changing yet, but the sand and slush on the roads is daily melting and freezing so the car washes are in full swing, and the days are longer and the sunrise location on the horizon is shifting further north (easier to notice with a static webcam position at the Ballot Box), and patches of moving water are showing on the Deer Run Brook that runs through the woods along our property line. But other than that, it’s still winter in Maine. Progress is being made, though, so we’re coming back in from the ledge and losing our urge to jump.
Last winter in Maine seemed like an aberration of sorts. Newcastle (where the Ballot Box is) seemed to consistently have less snow and milder temperatures than our primary residence in Massachusetts. We had one icy storm in February where we lost power for 3-4 days (first discovered because the webcam went dead without power and couldn’t be reached over the internet), but we drove up for that weekend anyway (we had a concern about pipes freezing), and even had Megan and Dan visit, so we roughed it without electricity, heat (propane for heat but the propane heaters are controlled by electricity), water (no electricity means no well pump), or toilets (no well pump means you get one AND ONLY ONE flush) for a few days. After a day I went out and bought a radiant heat attachment for the 20-lb propane tank and that made it quite tolerable. The temperature hovered around freezing night and day, so it didn’t get bitter cold. We went out to eat for meals (the outage was localized) and the only real inconvenience was the part about no toilet-flushing. That was pretty much all there was for the winter.
This winter is different, probably more typical.
As observed via the webcam (I archive daily image captures for posterity), we intially got a light dusting of snow on the 6th of December, the first sign of the white stuff for the season, but it didn’t last – showing best on the gravel driveway and only a slight bit in the grass, it accumulated to be enough to eventually cover the grass, but was entirely gone by the 13th, done in by rain. Another dusting on the 16th was gone by the 20th. The snow that finally stuck arrived on the 22nd of December, requiring a visit from the snow-plow on the 23rd, but still not a lot of snow, at least by Maine standards!
We arrived up here on the 28th of December after a respectable snowstorm up and down the New England coast; we had 16 inches in Massachusetts and about the same in Maine. By the 3rd of January (Lynn was still up in Maine for the month but I had returned to Massachusetts to get back to work) most of the grass on the front lawn at the Ballot Box was showing again, and it stayed that way until the 12th, when about a foot fell. More snow fell on the 15th, and again on the 18th, and again on the 20th, and then a whopper storm on the 21st. I had driven up on Thursday night (the 20th) after work, and tele-commuted to work from the Ballot Box on Friday the 21st, while we got another 16 inches of snow.
So now we have two and a half feet of snow on level ground, and snowbanks from the plow that are higher than Lynn’s PT Cruiser in some places! We have someone plow the 450-foot driveway for the Ballot Box, but we still have to shovel the steps and the walkway out to the driveway, and around the cars, and the deck to get ot the bird feeders. It’s a winter wonderland! It’s been bitter cold the last 48 hours (eight below zero yesterday morning) so the snowpack on the roads hasn’t melted at all. I head home in about an hour so I can get back to work tomorrow, but I plan on coming back up next weekend on the train (Lynn will pick me up in Portland) for a dinner party with some friends on Saturday, then Lynn and I will drive back down to Massachusetts together, Lynn’s month in Maine coming to an end. I’m sure it won’t be the last!
For a series of during- and after-storm pictures on FLICKR, click here…
Another week spent in Maine… well, ALMOST a week. It was supposed to be a full week, but Mother Nature has a nasty way of reminding you that you are often NOT the master of your own fate in New England, not even close sometimes.
We spent Christmas in Woburn, with a pleasant and relaxing morning spent with our little 5-member family. Megan and Dan drove down from Lowell to join Audrey, Lynn and me for stockings, breakfast (Eggs Benedict), and presents on Christmas morning, in that order. After that the no-longer-newlyweds headed to Dan’s parents’ house for dinner with his family, and the three of us headed to my sister’s house up the street for dinner and visits with five of her six children with spouses and nine of her eleven grand-kids. To borrow a poker term, it was a full house (and some were flushed!).
Drifted Snow on Lynn's Car
Our plan was to celebrate Christmas in Woburn and then head up to the Ballot Box on the day after (Sunday) for the week, BUT… our first official blizzard of the season (and the first snowstorm of the season requiring the awakening of the snow-blowing beast that sleeps in the garage) struck. Mother Nature let us know that she had other plans, so we hung around until Tuesday morning. The storm dumped sixteen inches of blowing drifting snow on Woburn that I cleared away with the snow-blower on Monday. Audrey had to be at work in Beverly by 10 AM so I got up at 6:30 and had her car cleared and useable by 8 AM when she hit the road, expecting a commute from hell in the middle of the blizzard. It was bad, but not as bad as anticipated (most people stayed off the road), so she got to work an hour early. I finished clearing out the other two cars and clearing the walkways, sidewalks, and hydrants, but it was still snowing and we were getting reports that the highways were a mess, so we waited until the next day to head up, and by then it was blue sky and dry roads all the way up. Before we left we saw our Maine snow-plow-man via the webcam clearing the 450-foot Ballot Box driveway, so we knew we could get into the house.
Ron Plowing Us Out
We arrived Tuesday afternoon, after a lunch stop at the Kennebunk rest-stop on the Maine turnpike and a visit to J. L. Coombs shoe outlet in Freeport for slip-on boots for Lynn. We unpacked the car, powered up the well pump and the hot water heater and turned up the propane furnaces (which get powered off or lowered when the house is unoccupied for a stretch), and made some coffee to relax with after our drive. Dinner at the Newcastle Publick House was plentiful and tasty (Shepherd’s Pie made with pulled LAMB [not hamburger] for Lynn, Beef Pie in a cheddar cheese crust for me, we both took half home for lunch the next day), and the selection of craft draught beers was extensive.
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were spent mostly relaxing, with minor chores and errands such as visits to the post office and grocery store, filling the seven bird feeders (mostly empty after a three-week respite), finishing the attachment of the cellar stairs railing (two screws were waiting for a stubby Phillips-head screwdriver), hanging a glove/mitten box on the coat closet door, shoveling out the turn-around for the car by the house so we didn’t have to back out the serpentine driveway, hunting for the cover to the composting bin that apparently was blown off during the Maine edition of the 2010 blizzard that delayed our arrival, setting up the new Bose wave radio with Aluratek internet radio attachment in the quilt room, and building and hanging new curtains for the triple-wide arched windows in the master bedroom.
Thursday I spent 4-5 hours at the Lincoln County Registry of Deeds in Wiscasset. I am doing the “genealogy” (so-to-speak) of the Ballot Box house structure by first researching the deeds and other official paperwork associated with the land in Damariscotta where the structure that is now the Ballot Box resided before it was moved to its new location in Newcastle in 2007. The structure was rumored to have originally been built in the 1860′s as a true carriage (as in “horse and carriage”) house beside the main house, on the corner of Elm Street and Lewis Point Road, but I have traced deeds and other documents back to the early 1880s so far, and the common deed phrase “… tract of land with buildings…” does not appear until 1891 so I am speculating that the house and carriage house were built on the land by John E. Barker sometime between April 1883 and June 1891 (full details so far are on the House History page on the Ballot Box web site). Further research will have to wait until I can get another free weekday up there to revisit the registry of deeds office. After this research project I’ll begin tracing the ownership of the land on which the Ballot Box now sits, the two and a half acres of land carved out of the 15+ acres deeded to Jane R. Ludwig in January 2000.
Thursday's Dinner
Thursday evening Lynn prepared a wonderful gourmet New Year’s Eve Eve (the day BEFORE New Year’s Eve) meal for the two of us – pan-seared citrus pork chops with peaches, green peppers and shallots, with zucchini and tomato au gratin as a vegetable, and brown rice as a starch. Awesome with a good red wine!
Friday, New Year’s Eve, was another relaxing day spent on relaxing activities – reading, listening to music, napping, watching the birds at the feeders, etc. Lynn and I made 7 PM reservations at our favorite restaurant in the area (the Damariscotta River Grill) for their annual New Year’s Eve Three-Course Price Fix offering, where you get an appetizer, a main meal, and a dessert for a fixed price. For appetizers, Lynn had the Tempura Oysters (her all-time favorite restaurant-prepared food from any restaurant anywhere) and I had the gnocchi in garlic-parmesan olive oil with asparagus and roasted tomatoes. Lynn’s main meal was the Two-Textured Duck (grilled duck breast and confit duck leg) with wild cherry sauce and wild rice (coincidentally the meal that Audrey had last New Year’s Eve) and she loved it. I had the Herb-Crusted Lamb Chops with a green peppercorn mustard demi-glaze (rare, of course), which was delicious. Lynn is not fond of lamb so I only get it out at restaurants. For desserts, Lynn had the pear tart which was yummy, and I ordered the Crème Brûlée with “extra torch” (the crispy top is created by aiming a blow-torch at the sugared milk brûlée to singe it and create a layer of caramelized crème). It was divine.
At home after dinner, we played a few games of Dominoes (something different), watched any New Year’s Eve show that didn’t have Dick Clark on it (the man is worse than Bret Favre as far as knowing when to retire!), and broke open a bottle of champagne to toast the new year as the ball descended in Allied Chemical Square.
Saturday, New Year’s Day, we headed off to Foster’s Auction House around the corner and down the street on Route 1 to observe an estate auction. Neither of us had ever been to an auction but both of us have always wanted to see what they were like, so we headed off to the New Year’s Day auction. It was mobbed! We purposefully did NOT register to bid, but we did get a lot list so we could see what was coming up. It was fascinating and very enjoyable. We could have a lot of fun bidding on items and maybe even winning! What we really should do is haul up some of our “clutter” stored in the garage in Woburn and LIGHTEN our load of stuff, rather than buying more stuff!
Homemade Prime Rib!
After we tired of the auction (it was going on all day) we pointed the car towards Boothbay Harbor and Southport and Newagen, and explored around the end of the peninsula. Back home it was Gene’s turn to prepare dinner, so I cooked a little three-rib Angus rib roast with baked potatoes and mixed vegetables, and we had a prime-rib-style feast with a good Black Rooster Chianti red wine. Heaven!
Sunday, it was off to Portland so I could catch the 12:20 Amtrak Downeaster train back to Woburn to return to work Monday morning. Lynn visited with her niece Kristine in Portland after dropping me off at the station. Lynn gets to stay and play in Maine for the month, with a return to Woburn for some parties scheduled for the middle weekend.
Happy New Year!
