Christmas in New England - Portland Head Light, Victoria Mansion, and home

December 27

Portland Head Light
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We're on the plane at Portland Jetport, getting ready to take off – and I just realized that my camera is not I my bag!! A woman in the next row up said an announcement was made at the check-in area that a camera had been found, but we were long gone from there by then. So, on the good side, I had to switch memory cards today, and most of my pictures are on the card that isn't in the camera. And I have that card. Yay! However, the pictures of the stunningly Christmas-decorated house...gone... I bought a souvenir guidebook, but that doesn't replace my photos. The flight attendant helpfully suggested that we call the airport to claim it, but, really, what are the odds? We'll see. And here I thought I was going to make it through this trip without a single major mishap on my part. Sigh.

Backtrack. So, this morning, Harry didn't want to get up, though it was the only morning on this trip when it was important for us to do so. I admit it, I was a tiny bit irritated and started taking the linens off the bed while he was still in it...heh heh...

We went to Sue's for some quiche left-overs for breakfast, and Harry and Jim and I waited for Melissa and Sue to come back from taking care of some business at the notary public. We settled in, expecting the transaction to take a while, but they were gone for maybe 20 minutes total! They said they drove there, walked right in, had the notary witness the signatures, and drove right back. No wait, no hassle. I love this place.

[When we arrived at the airport, there was no line at the check-in counter. There was no line at the TSA checkpoint. The airplane went straight to the runway and took off – no wait. Things are how they used to be. As I said, I love this place.]

Sue decided not to go to Portland with us because of Jim's injury. Jim, by the way, is taking the calls for his son's “side” heating oil business for a couple of days. As I said, Jim hates to just sit around. Business is good, and the phone is ringing off the hook.

Jim went to the orthopedist today and will be having surgery tomorrow. His Achilles tendon is torn all the way through, and he won't heal up properly without the surgery. [The surgery went well. Several months of physical therapy should help him to recover completely.]

We said good-bye, which is always so very hard to do, especially with such lovely, kind, generous, hospitable people. Parting is such sweet sorrow, eh?

Portland Head Light
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We loaded up the car, turned the heat down in the duplex, locked up, and off we went to the Portland Head Light, which I've heard is the most photographed place in Maine (if not on the East Coast). Who can blame anyone? It is entirely stereotypical and photogenic. The cute cottage front, the add-ons and (presumably) storage areas in back, all connected to the lighthouse in an inverted “T” so you don't have to go outside to get from the house to the lighthouse. Which is a good thing, because I imagine it gets rather chillsome on a blustery winter's day. Such as today, for instance. The wind is reaching right through my jeans with its glacial fingers. Brrr.

You've got your rugged coastline, your boiling waters frothing over the rocks, and your wintery gray skies with pink on the horizon and the faded sun hiding behind clouds. Altogether, it is a picture-perfect winter scene by the seaside. It looks like a postcard at the gift shop, which it is. And the homes on the waterfront are enviable.

Portland, Maine
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We then drove in to Old Portland, which reminded me of Boston's North End, and we had lunch at The ThirstyPig, an Irish pub with one employee on hand for the busy lunch hour. The poor fellow was the greeter, waiter, bartender, cook, busboy, dishwasher, and checker. Harry had a bratwurst sandwich, and I had chicken-apple sausage. I asked for it to be served on greens, but it came on a roll. I didn't have the heart to send it back. And I gave the guy a huge tip, 'cause he totally deserved it. He was doing every job in the place. [I later learned that my credit card had been compromised, possibly here. I hope it wasn't you, dude.]

Beautiful Victoria Mansion
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Melissa's high school friend Michelle joined us at the pub for lunch, and then we all went to the Victoria Mansion, which was unbelievably decked out for Christmas. Every room. Every corner of every room. Every surface in every room. And there were many, many rooms. The ceilings, which are always of great interest to me, because my grandfather was a craftsman who did the fancy ceilings, were amazing. They were plaster, painted with frescoes to look like inlaid wood, with little cherubs and things – very impressive. The woodwork and paneling in the home? Impressive. The fireplaces, mirrors, and mantles? Impressive. The carpets? Impressive. The furniture? 90% original...and impressive.

Over the top? Maybe.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

The house had forced-air heat, hot and cold running water, gas lighting (now converted to electric, of course) with chandeliers that pulled down or pushed up, depending how much light you needed for the leisurely task at hand. Very advanced for its time, ca. Civil War. They even had indoor bathrooms. The water pipes wrapped around the chimney to warm the water. Smart use of energy, eh? Those Mainers have been “green” for a long time.

Leaving is always a bummer.
Photo by Chris.

And then we headed to the Jetport, and here we are, flying to (shudder) O'Hare, where we'll change planes. Harry's been pointing out some cool stuff in the Sky Mall magazine...always shopping, that one. The “special edition” humidor with a Blu-ray copy of “Scarface” for $729.99 is a must-have, no? Well, it does come with 100 cigars...

Amazingly, my camera had indeed been found...and turned in to lost-and-found...at the airport, complete with memory card. It was retrieved by a friend of Sue's, and Sue shipped it home to me. Would this happy ending have happened in most places? No, it would not. And so, it's just one more reason for me to love Maine and the people in it. Thank you so much!

Our arrival in San Francisco was delayed just enough that we missed the last BART train by ½ hour and had to take a cab across the Bay and back to Zack and Mel's. It's a toss-up between the getting there and the coming back as to which is the least enjoyable part of travel; but, on the plus side, the getting there has the benefit of anticipation. What do you think? Do you most dread the getting there, with all its accompanying nerves and unfamiliarity and tantalizing promise of new adventure, or do you most dread the bittersweet separation from a new-found love and the long road home that, at least, ends in the comfort of your own bed?

Christmas in New England - Arriving in Maine

December 21

We're on our way! Cheers! (Zack and Harry)
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We're on our way to New England for Christmas! My husband and I left our place around 7 a.m., arriving at Zack (our son) and Melissa's place in plenty of time for the four of us to take a cab ride to BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit), ride BART to San Francisco International Airport, take the tram to Terminal 3, walk to Gate 86, and board our flight with United Airlines. We are packed like sardines in the plane, and we've been waiting on the tarmac interminably here in San Francisco. The heat has been on, blowing through the ventilation system, and it's stifling hot...wait! Now there's cool air blowing. What a relief! And we're finally moving...yay! It was interesting how everyone's inner thermostat overheated at the same time, the sweaters and sweatshirts peeling off in a choreographed and synchronized dance.

That was short-lived...we're waiting again. The worst part of traveling is getting there and getting back. As my son Zack says, “Oh! You mean...the actual traveling?” Yes. That's what I mean.

I didn't get the super-friendly pat-down at the TSA this time, thankfully, but trying to stay one step ahead of my husband was a study in frustration and anxiety. I wonder if he does it on purpose? Here's what I mean: We were waiting on the platform for the tram to the terminal, four of us, with all of our luggage. The tram arrived, people crowded on, and there wasn't room for us. Three of us hung back, and one of us jumped onto the tram at the last minute, just as the doors were closing. Guess who? Luckily, I made it aboard, just in the nick of time, and was able to tell Zack and Mel that we'd meet them at the terminal as the doors slid shut, almost cutting off my derriere. Well, big deal, right? Of course, Harry could have waited at the other end for the three of us, no problem. But he didn't have his ticket on him (one of us was carrying all four), didn't know where to exit the tram, and hadn't paid attention to which airline we were flying on, even. So, you see...it could have been interesting trying to find him while he was trying to find us! Note to self: Make a copy of the paperwork for each person to carry, and nobody gets on board anything unless everybody knows what's happening and when. Seems pretty elementary, now that I write it down on paper.

Yay! We're next on the runway! Here we go to Chicago, where we'll change planes and head to Portland, Maine. I'm very excited about meeting Melissa's family and seeing Maine in the winter.

It's a beautiful, sunny, crisp day in San Francisco. There was thick fog hugging the freeway when we left home, but it cleared, and it's gorgeous out there. Harry's in the window seat, and the view of San Francisco as I lean over him is spectacular from the air. There are lots of ships (tankers, freighters, etc.) dotting the calm, dark-blue waters of the Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge looks majestic as it stands guard in the sunshine. Usually when I see it, it is shrouded in fog. It's an impressive bridge.

Our own tree. Note the fish on the wall.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Upon our arrival in Portland, Maine, at 11:30 p.m., we drove an hour or so to Melissa's mother's place in the fog and drizzle. Melissa is an excellent driver, and we all chatted excitedly as we made our way to our destination. Sue and Jim live in Oxford, Maine, and they couldn't have greeted us more warmly, even though it was going on 1 a.m. Sue served us some of the most amazing, absolutely scrumptious, dark-chocolate covered coconut candies that she makes. They are like Mounds...only, of course, so much better!

We are happily ensconced in half of Jim's fully-furnished rental duplex just down the road, having unpacked already. It's so much quicker to unpack than it is to pack! There were plenty of empty drawers for us to use, a pile of towels, and...the fridge is full of goodies. There's Dunkin' Donuts coffee on the kitchen counter, right by the coffeemaker, in case we don't want to go to the main house for breakfast. What superb hospitality! Oh! And there's even a decorated Christmas tree for us. Really? Really. We feel very welcomed, for sure.

Jim's a former law enforcement officer and an outdoorsman. It's pretty typical in Maine to be an outdoorsperson, I understand. So, there are nice antlers up on the wall, and the décor of the duplex is very masculine. It's his “man cave” when it isn't being used as a guest house. Pretty nice man cave, Jim!

Thoughts on today's flights: The film being shown was “The Road” with Martin Sheen. Meh. But maybe that's because it's a quiet movie, on a small screen, in a noisy plane, with terrible earphones. So, it was impossible to hear the dialog and enjoy the character development. Or whatever I was supposed to enjoy just before I drifted off to sleep.

Both planes were full, and there were many children on board. Bless them, they were all great kids. I didn't hear a single temper tantrum...just excited anticipation in their little voices. On their way to Grandma's for Christmas! Yay! It was at once astounding and understandable that there were so many e-readers and DVD players and laptops and tablets on the plane. It's obviously a great way to keep the kids occupied and interested. Which is wonderful for a parent's nerves. Peaceful coexistence. Ahhhh.....

The welcome sign at Portland International Jetport.
Pretty neat, eh?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We had a two-hour layover in Chicago, where we had a bite to eat at the food court. Come on, United. Get a few more good restaurants in your terminal, already. Harry had a pulled pork sandwich, and I had a southwest-style salad. Surprisingly, the food was quite enjoyable.

Tomorrow (well, later today, as it's 3 a.m.), we're going to make Whoopie Pies! Jim said that these have been officially (as in, there's been legislation) designated as the official dessert of Maine. They couldn't be designated as the official food of Maine, of course, because that would be LOBSTER. Hello! Yummm... Oh, this is going to be a great foodfest vacation, I can tell.

I'm looking forward to seeing the area in the daylight. It's heavily wooded, and I understand there's a lake to see nearby. It must be spectacular in the fall, when the leaves are changing to brilliant colors on the trees! There's no snow, but one still hopes for a white Christmas. Just like the ones we used to know.