Notes from Maine - 2026/08/23

Today would be my father’s 90th birthday. He died in 2022. The last couple years of his life, he talked about how his father made it to 90 and his mother reached her 94th year, as if it was his birthright to make it to his ninth decade. I never understood that sentiment. Inheritance of traits like eye color and height is well-studied but there must be billions of factors that contribute to longevity. Logically, his argument didn’t make sense. But, I suppose it’s illogical of me to assume that he was approaching the topic scientifically. He was just saying that, all things considered, it would have made more sense to him if he had lived longer than or equal to his parents. His brother only made it to 58, but there was a bicycle and a truck involved.

In news from the next generation, my nephew is now at college. My mother was concerned for him all day. Around six, with wide eyes, she asked, “What’s he going to eat for dinner?”

I texted the question to him, asking for a photo. I don’t know much about people younger than I am, but I do know there’s a thing where they like to take pictures of food, so I didn’t think the request would be too difficult.

A moment later we got a FaceTime call from him. He was walking.

“I’m so hungry,” he said. “The dining hall caught on fire.”

We crowded around the phone. His hair is different now—must be a college cut. He was walking with a friend. They were trying to find another place to eat.

“What happened?” we both asked at the same time.

“I don’t know. It caught on fire. I’m so hungry.”

That was about all the information we got on the call. It was great to see him. He’s out there in the world already solving problems for himself (where to eat when your dining hall catches on fire) and walking around with new friends (we assume the friend was new). He is staying in a dorm that has suites. Mom and I were both excited and nervous for him, but I’m sure he’ll do fine. 

Today, my sister is driving up here for her vacation. Her nest is completely empty—abandoned, even. We’ve planned several improvements for the camp while she’s here. The gazebo is done—she framed in walls, screened the whole thing, and then I added power and lights. It could use some furnishing and finishing touches, but it’s fully functional. 

Before the screens, the gazebo was a nice place for deer flies and mosquitoes to get a quick meal. Now, it’s a great spot to sit without worrying about the bugs. I’m guessing that we will turn our attention to the bathroom this time. The closet in there houses a small water heater. Otherwise, that closet is wasted space and should be re-worked. The shower is amazing. It’s a custom stone shower pan and rock wall surround, but the drain is too small. 

The camp is perfectly usable with these small defects, but this type of project is a fun “vacation” for my sister, and I enjoy DIY home improvement as well. 

I keep glancing over my shoulder at the window. We were promised some rain this weekend, but I think something must have spooked it. This summer has been dry, dry, dry. Our county has slipped back into “Severe Drought,” and the pasture reflects that reality. It’s just brown grass and dust out there. The horses nearly tackled me this morning when I was dragging hay out for them. “Severe Drought” is a category that’s accompanied by “crop or pasture losses,” and “water shortages.” So far, the well has held up, but the pasture hasn’t. After Lilly’s surgery, none of the horses even grazed the pasture for six weeks. This could have been a great year for regrowth, but instead we have drought. 

I read that a significant El Niño is developing in the Pacific, and that usually leads to a wetter fall and winter for the Eastern Seaboard. We’ll see. If you hear me complaining about mud in a couple of months, then you’ll know we finally got some rain. If I don’t complain about the weather at all, then you can safely assume that I passed away and someone else is impersonating me. 

Yesterday, I was invited to a Halloween party (in October, of course). At Home Depot, a couple of guys were arranging a big display of giant skeletons. It’s too soon. I still have so many summer plans. Oh well.