Notes from Maine - 2026/10/18

We had another interesting week here in Maine. My mom and my sister visited. We had a bunch of chores up at the camp in order to settle everything for the winter. It’s sad to see another season go, but also feels good to get everything properly put away. My grandfather had all kinds of autumn chores—taking in and servicing the outboard motor, bringing in the windmill, putting out the bird feeder, etc. None of his tasks were documented in any way. One learned them through annual shouting. For the camp, which will be inherited by my nephew, everything is documented in a binder and online. Each step, in order, is listed with a detailed description and photographs. When my sister and I execute the steps in the binder, we take notes so that the documentation can be revised for next year. One day, hopefully, that documentation will be “finished.”

Earl (big, silly Shire horse) had a tough week. I went out to the barn one morning to find him puffy and swollen. The vet prescribed 500 mg of Benadryl (20 pills), which I crushed and mixed with applesauce. The swelling went down, but I don’t think it was because of the Benadryl. It just went away. Maybe he was stung by something in the night and he recovered on his own. He’s doing fine now. I’ll keep a close on eye on him for a while just to make sure. I need to revise his baseline body temperature. He used to run a little hot. If that has changed, I need to be aware of it. Horses can have a pretty wide range of “normal” temperatures, so taking their temperature is only useful if you have a solid idea of what they should be.

On Friday night, Mom and I went to the Nightmare on the Ridge. It’s a haunted walk through an orchard that we try to attend every year. This time, we went with a giant group of friends. We move slowly through the different displays and scares, so we pause between buildings to allow other groups to pass. The weather was kind to us. The night was crisp. The rain stopped just long enough for us to do our walk and then it resumed while we were driving home.

Before the walk started, a bloody clown approached us on a serious mission.

“I’m selling red noses for pediatric cancer,” he said.

My friends’ daughter asked, “Wait, are you for or against cancer?”

The clown appeared shocked by the question. “Are you asking if I’m for cancer?” 

Normally, these clowns never break character. They’re dressed to shock and usually have big, bloody wounds on their faces. They mingle with people waiting to go on the haunted walk, sneaking up behind anyone who looks nervous, and then deliver a jump-scare at just the right moment.

I’ve never seen one look shocked before.

“It’s a valid question,” I said. “You said you were selling noses for pediatric cancer.”

The clown turned his confused face towards me. “You’re seriously asking if I’m for or against pediatric cancer?”

“Yeah,” someone else said.

The clown was clearly not in on the joke. I gave him a five and we got two red noses. Hopefully that helps kids and doesn’t hurt them, but we’ll never know.

Back at home, Albert (dog) was hanging out with my sister. He would do really well on a haunted walk, I think, but I wouldn’t want to frighten the actors. In the dark, he blends right in. When I’m walking around at night I either shuffle or put my feet down very carefully. Albert is finally doing better after his dental surgery. He’s back on crunchy food and later this week he is allowed to resume chasing the Frisbee. I’d like to get through an entire week without a four-legged medical crisis. Maybe this week will be the one?

I took my sister and mom to the airport yesterday afternoon. It’s a pretty quick flight between Maine and Virginia. Depending on the size of the plane, it takes between 70 minutes and a couple of hours. My sister texted me from the plane—there was an equipment problem and they were going to be delayed 15-90 minutes. If they could fix it right there, fifteen. If they had to get a part from Boston, ninety. I guess they didn’t have the part in Boston, because the next thing I heard was they had been kicked off the plane and it would be several more hours before they would re-board. 

Online, they updated the status of the flight in seven-minute chunks. It would say 9:06pm until about 9:05, and then it would update again to say 9:13. Eventually, they promised it would go out at 11pm. It didn’t. My sister decided that they would stay in a hotel instead of coming back to my house. I live about forty minutes from the airport and they would have needed to get up very early this morning to catch the new flight they booked.

I just talked to my sister. They’ve landed back in Virginia. Their total travel time was about 19 hours and included a stop in Charlotte, North Carolina. The slogan of American Airlines is “Let Good Take Flight.” That’s tough for me to parse. It’s not a promise or even a suggestion that they’re going to try to make your travel easy and safe. We’re just letting something happen? When I was a kid, they sang, “We're American Airlines, doing what we do best.” That’s still not a promise about anything, but suggests that they were actively working towards a goal. They weren’t just letting “Good Take Flight.” 

At least my family is back home safe. My sister doesn’t like to travel the day before work, and this is why. She builds in a buffer to account for equipment failures. We should write that into the documentation for the camp—leave a buffer for equipment failures.