Summer Vacation 2019

My last day of work at the psychiatry office was on July 9th. After three and a half years, I had a mixture of emotions and “may have” appeared to “perhaps” look a “bit” like a person with multiple personality disorder. Fortunately, Bill had planned a two-week vacation to Boston and Maine so I had plenty to look forward to (except for the fact that this would be our first trip away from Grace in over two years). Our flight was leaving on Friday, June 19th at 7:00 am and I was almost completely packed by Monday. I had picked out every single conceivable outfit I might need and had everything color coordinated to mix and match and all wear with the same purse - - this is not an easy task. I needed to look both city-ish for Boston and outdoorsy/regatta-ish for Maine. I needed hiking clothes, running clothes, shopping clothes, museum clothes, dining out clothes, and all of them needed to be able to layer according to the weather. And the shoes! You have to have the right shoes for each outfit. I only packed five pairs of shoes so I thought I did pretty well.

On Thursday morning, I came back from a run and usually when I come back from a run, Bill cheerily yells “hello” from upstairs. There was no greeting. I asked him what was wrong and he was so angry with himself for getting the flight times wrong. He had not noticed that our flight the next day was at 7:00 pm not 7:00 am, which of course would get us into Boston very late. I, however, was SO relieved. This could be a whole story in itself about how much I dislike morning flights, but I’m not going to do that to you. Suffice to say, I was so happy that we would have all day Friday to leisurely prepare for the flight and was so grateful that Jet Blue doesn’t use military time for their flights, which would have prevented Bill from accidentally choosing the wrong flight time.

Friday was great. We had time to go to the gym and make sure we had everything packed and there was no exhausted rush to the airport. Unfortunately, my Mom did have to sit in a bit of rush hour traffic because she was so kind as to take us to the airport. Also, there was a little snafu with the flight. Apparently, when the plane was coming into Austin, a flock of birds forgot to look both ways, and the engine annihilated them. I know. Ouch. Poor birds. And apparently, plane engines are not so sturdy that they can’t be damaged by a flock of bird bodies (that’s a little terrifying in and of itself) so the flight attendant announced that a maintenance engineer would need to check out the engine for safety and that required the use of a specialized truck, which was about 20 minutes away. I pretty much assume that every plane I am in will crash so anything that the airline can do to prevent that from happening is OK with me. I think we finally took off about 9:00. It was a direct flight, we had extra leg room, and they had great TV’s for each seat and we were able to watch the first five episodes of Killing Eve before we got to Boston. We took a cab to the Copley Square Hotel and checked in about 3:00 am. Now my bedtime is usually 9:00 pm at the latest so I was not exactly on my best behavior. You would think I would know by now that in those moments, my best course of action is just to smile and say I am tired and then go to bed. No one needs to hear my “feelings” right when I am having them (when will I learn this???). Especially at 3:00 am. Poor Bill. I had a minor outburst and then we went to bed.

We just happened to hit Boston during a heat wave. Now being from Texas, we know how to handle the heat. You don’t do anything outside after about 9:00 am unless it involves swimming and the rest of the day, you spend dodging UV rays while running from your air conditioned house to your air conditioned car to an air conditioned office, store, gym, etc. Part of choosing the northeast for vacation was to get away from the heat so we weren’t prepared for being all sweaty. We wanted to do the Freedom Trail and that was out for sure. We did a little shopping between naps. We ate great food at Legal Sea Foods and Mamma Maria. We made it to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts. A boutique owner told us we needed to go to the MFA to see this enormous portrait of George Washington. She said she thought he looked really hot in this particular painting. That is one thought that has never entered my mind. I have never considered the hotness status of the father of our country, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

Boston was fine, but I was tired of the heat and ready to head up north for a quieter and more laid back vacation. I had no idea what to expect from Maine. Plenty of people told us how amazing it was there. Bill had found a beautiful house right on the ocean. I knew I wanted to go to the 24 hour LL Bean in Freeport and eat lobster rolls and blueberry pancakes. I also couldn’t wait to see the quaint little seaside towns all up and down the coast.

We picked up the Jeep on Tuesday morning at the airport. It was raining and with our limited directional abilities, it took forever to figure out how to get out of Boston, but we finally got on the correct road. In no time, we were in New Hampshire and then Maine. We stopped at LL Bean in Freeport and it was jam-packed. Think outlet mall by the sea. I was disappointed that we didn’t get to shop at 2:00 am since it is open 24/7, but then again, who are those people that shop for their outdoor needs at 2:00 am? Do I really want to shop with them? I got some hiking pants and we moved on. The rest of the drive to the house in Addison took about three hours. Most of it was a two-lane road through luscious green trees. I noticed a LOT of American flags hanging from phone poles. There were no junky billboards and not many businesses on the roadsides. There were signs here and there for various blueberry farms, parks, wreath factories, yarn stores, etc., so while it appeared we were out in the middle of nowhere, I think Maine just hides everything behind those trees. It certainly makes the drive prettier I guess, but I really wanted to see some cute little shops or something. We also noticed a lot of real estate for sale.

We had driven through Ellsworth and passed a large grocery store. We considered stopping to stock up, but we were still pretty far away from the house and I was sure there would be another grocery store before we got there. I set the navigation system (we named him Ned) to take us to a grocery store on the road to Addison and after about an hour, it told us to turn right and the destination would be on our right. Well, we turned right and looked to our right and there was the most depressing boarded up strip mall. We could make out the sign for the grocery store, but it had not been in business for a long ass time. Bad navigation system, bad, bad. We decided to head to the house and hoped something would be on the way. We got to Addison and there was hardly anything there at all. A post office, a few houses for sale, a garage, and two food carts, one for fried dough and one for cotton candy. We kept driving, as our house was actually in South Addison. We drove down East Side Road for what seemed like an eternity. We did pass a sign that said they were selling lobster and Bill wanted to stop. First, it was a homemade sign. Second, you couldn’t see anything from the road. It was just a dark winding road. Hello, axe murderer anyone? I said no and we kept driving to Mooseneck Rd. (which, over the course of the trip, became Moose-nuts Rd.). We turned right and then turned right on Cape Split Rd. and again drove forever until we saw the sign that read “Stern Person Wanted.” I still don’t know what that means. We turned right and then turned right again on Cape Circle and then right yet again on Pleasant River. The house was at the very end of the road and was on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

Picturesque, charming, idyllic…I could go on and on. Bill had picked the perfect house. We brought all of our stuff inside and by now, it was close to 7:00 and we had no food. We also noticed that every room in the house had giant windows facing west. And none of the windows had shades. How wonderful you say? You can see the sunset over the ocean. Yes that is true. Unfortunately, at that moment, the sun was blaring in each of those windows, blinding us. Hungry, tired, and now squinting, we looked for a grocery store on my phone. The closest one was in Jonesport. We hauled ass in the Jeep, following navigator Ned’s instructions and fortunately, an open grocery store did exist and it was open until 8:00. Score! We grabbed a cart and just started throwing things in. It was a small town store for sure, but they had most everything. It was like we were preparing for a hurricane. The two ladies at the register were very kind. We loaded the bags into the car and headed back the way we came. About five minutes out of the parking lot, an alert came up on the dash that we had a tire that was losing pressure. Rapidly. Crap. I don’t think I’ve ever had a flat tire (except this one time when I was looking at my cute new haircut in the rear view mirror while driving on the entrance ramp to Mopac and hit a curb so hard that I bent the wheel – cute haircuts can be just as dangerous as texting and driving – just a little tip from me to you). It was getting dark and we were driving on all of these winding back roads with no streetlights. We were not going to pull over and try and figure out how to change a tire. Bill floored it and we held our breaths as the tire pressure continued to drop and crossed our fingers that we would not fly off the road into the forest or hit a moose. Luckily, we arrived at our destination safely and managed to have a nice dinner and unwind from our slightly hectic day. The tire pressure on our flat had gone down to 7.

The next morning, I woke up and the sun was already up. Did you know that the sun rises at 4:00 am in Maine? 4:00 am! Thank goodness the windows in the house didn’t face east. That would be a very rude awakening. I checked out the tire and it was indeed very flat. I read the manual and watched a couple of online videos and you can pretty much learn to do anything from the Internet. I am pretty sure I could learn to perform a craniotomy if I really needed to. We called Enterprise and they said if we could get the Jeep to the Tire Warehouse in Ellsworth, they would pay for a new tire. I am so proud of us for changing that tire ourselves. We are an awesome team. We got to the Tire Warehouse, which was 50 miles away, and they did indeed change the tire for free and we were on our way.

It was suggested that I eat a lobster roll every day that I was in Maine so I was pretty excited when we headed toward a place Bill had found online that promised exceptionally delicious lobster rolls. It was in Trenton, just before you cross the bridge to Mount Desert Island. I think it was just called Trenton Bridge Lobster or something like that. We ordered two lobster rolls and two diet cokes. $48. For two sandwiches, some very average potato chips, and two cans of diet coke. This must really be the champion of all lobster rolls right? Or it came with some diamonds or something too? Meh. It was fine. Not $48 fine, but it wasn’t awful. I decided no more lobster rolls. Been there, done that. We made a quick drive through Bar Harbor and decided we would come back another day.

The next morning, I was coming downstairs and slipped. I landed on my elbow and one of the stair edges jammed right into my lower back. It completely knocked the wind out of me and I think I was in a little bit of shock because I got very nauseous and sweaty. It hurt. A lot. Bill jumped out of bed and helped me to the couch. I didn’t think anything was broken, but I was surprised how painful it was. It took a few hours, but I managed to bathe and get dressed. We decided we were going to try and drive to Camden. On the way, my arm felt so strange. The pain radiated from the place I had landed on my elbow down my forearm to my wrist. I asked Bill if he’d mind if we stopped at the ER. He was a great sport and we found the hospital in Ellsworth. I didn’t have to wait too long and I think everyone should take the opportunity to visit an ER while on vacation. Everyone was very kind. They kept asking me if I smoked. I’m curious what that has to do with a fall down the stairs, but I guess it’s a box on all of the questionnaires nowadays.

We heard a man yelling in one of the other exam rooms. He sounded like Schneider from One Day at a Time and was very upset that he had been waiting so long to see a doctor and he didn’t know why he was there and he didn’t know when he was going to leave and he didn’t know why they took his keys away or how he would get home. He was requiring a lot of attention from the entire staff because he was so agitated. And loud. He was obviously hard of hearing and it wasn’t that he was mean to anyone, but his volume level made it sound that way. I got a look at him when they took me for an x-ray and he was the most adorable tiny old man with suspenders. He looked like he had worked really hard his entire life.

As I had figured, my arm wasn’t broken (although I had really hoped for a navy blue cast to match all of the outfits I had packed). They gave me ice and wrapped it up and we were on our way. I felt foolish for wasting their time, but I felt better knowing it wasn’t anything serious. We were tired and hungry and decided to go back to the house after grabbing a quick bite at the Dairy Queen and picking up some groceries. Here I had thought there would be adorable little blueberry pancake houses at every turn, but all we could find was the Dairy Queen.

On Friday, we got up early and hiked at Acadia National Park. It’s a beautiful place and the views of the coast of Maine are spectacular. As expected, it was also a bit crowded in certain areas. We hiked the Sandy Beach trail to the end of the Gorham Mountain Trail and then took that trail back to where we parked. It was a solid hike and we felt accomplished. We had lunch in Northeast Harbor and had the obligatory piece of blueberry pie. They had this really extraordinary shop down the street that was filled with the highest end linens, china, flatware, housewares, clothing, etc. It seemed so out of place and just so extravagant. We headed home and saw so many houses for sale, boarded up stores, and dollar stores. The dichotomy between that shop on the island and the evidence of the poor economy on the drive home was so striking that it really put me in a funk.

We took the weekend off from driving and decided to hang out around the house. I guess we had assumed that the house would be a home base and we would just take a bunch of day trips from there, but we found that everywhere we wanted to go was just so far away and we were spending a lot of time driving. We wanted to be relaxing, reading, watching the ocean, cooking, snuggling, napping, etc. It was a good decision. Cape Split ended up being a great place to run. There was sort of a figure eight pathway through the pine trees and a tiny beach was only a mile and a half away. It was incredibly peaceful and one of my favorite runs was when a fog drifted in through the trees. It was like something out of a movie. We cooked a lobster chowder and lobster macaroni and cheese. I got a chance to read some information about the house. The couple that owned it had built it from scratch. It was to be their retirement/vacation home, but they couldn’t really afford it so they rented it out to help defray the costs. The husband worked in construction and had done most of the work himself. The craftsmanship was exceptional. The wife had made the beautiful stained glass windows herself. You could tell this was a house they loved. I also found out that a famous abstract expressionist in the early 1900’s, John Marin, had a summer house on Cape Split. He had died in 1953, but his son had lived there, as did his granddaughter and it was a gathering spot for many artists at one time. We decided that this was the perfect house if you wanted to spend some time sort of “off the grid,” but it was a little too far from civilization if you wanted to enjoy good restaurants, tours, or shops.

On Monday, we went to Bar Harbor and tried to shop. I would consider myself an above average shopper. I really could go pro. It’s my humility though that keeps me from getting competitive about it. I’m happy to let others have the glory. Having said that, we really found very little worth buying in Bar Harbor. Apparently, cruise ships stop there now so every shop was just filled with shitty souvenirs. Not a fan. We drove around Mount Desert Island and it is an interesting place. We saw harbors full of nice boats and really gorgeous homes. We stopped for diet cokes at a little quickie mart that ended up having absolutely everything a normal person would need for camping. I say normal person because I would require a few additional items were I to ever go camping. Specifically a hotel room at the Four Seasons. We went to Southwest Harbor, which was small, but had delicious blueberry ice cream.

On Tuesday, we decided to drive to Campobello in Canada. It was FDR’s summer home and I don’t know exactly why I cared if we went there, but it sounded fun to go to Canada. The extent of my knowledge of Canada comes from the excellent cult classic Strange Brew and while I did not expect to see Bob and Doug McKenzie, I was pleased that the tour guide for FDR’s house used the word “eh” about 237 times. Sorry to say, we were bored to death after the tour and didn’t feel like hiking or hanging out in Lubec. We loved that the border patrol checked our backseat for possible contraband (because we obviously look like drug smugglers).

Wednesday, we hung out around the house, did laundry, and packed. Thursday, we would be driving back to Boston because our flight was very early on Friday morning. I think we missed Grace so much that we were both ready to go home. Two weeks was way too long to be away from her so it was decided that she would go with us on all future vacations. My brother was an angel to stay with her (she can be quite naughty) and we knew she was well taken care of, but she is part of our family. We drove to Boston Thursday and found Camden to be absolutely adorable. Traffic backed up over the Wiscasset bridge and we saw a long line of people waiting down Route 1 for a place called Red’s Eats. I googled it and it apparently has the best lobster roll in Maine. For $26.50! No thank you. We knew we’d have to stop for gas before returning the car and it was interesting that there were no gas stations (or really not much of anything) on the sides of the freeway. You had to just pay attention to signs, exit, and then meander around to find one. We took a detour through Boxford, MA and while it took 20 minutes to find a gas station, it was really an adorable little town. Perfect little New England houses. We returned the car, spent the night at the airport Hilton, and flew back to Austin.

In hindsight, I wish I had spent more time being involved in the trip planning. I left it all up to Bill and that’s not fair to him. We could have discussed more about what we wanted to see and do and what kind of trip we wanted to have. I placed unfair expectations on him and on Maine to just make me feel good without any metrics for what that would look like. Leaving my job hasn’t been the easiest thing emotionally and I was bound to be a little (OK a lot) kooky with intermittent meltdowns over the imprisoned lobsters we saw all stuffed in tanks of water (oh and the little old man that sounded like Schneider at the ER…I mean who was going to take him home and care for him?). I think we both agreed that the house was too far from most everything to take day trips around Maine and not be overwhelmed by all of the driving so next time, we would either stay there and plan a very reclusive vacation or stay closer to Mount Desert Island.

I think Maine was a good learning experience for me. The perfect vacation is an impossibility. Especially, when you don’t have any expectations of what perfect looks like. Since I got back, I’m attempting to change my perspective of what life has to look like. If I think everything has to be perfect, then I will always be disappointed in myself and others when it all comes up short (because it will always come up short). If I just let myself and everyone else off the hook, maybe I’ll have a whole new view of the world. Perhaps. Let’s hope so.