Bitchin’
Flute
Fries
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
Bitchin’
Flute
Fries

Coastal Maine is rife with islands. After all, I do live on one. Here’s another, viewed from a cruise aboard the historic schooner Louis R. French in Penobscot Bay.
For more schooner sailing experiences, take a look at my Under Sail photo album at Thistle Finch editions.
Eastport has an active energy committee, which is good considering how many times we get hit with electrical outages. We live at the edge of the grid, after all, as well as on an island subject to some wild weather.
So while lunching at their Earth Day set of presentations, the man opposite me was asking about our house renovations. This is a small-town, after all, and everybody knows everything – or will.
As I explained the history of our place and some of its makeshift, even shocking, carpentry over the centuries, he interrupted me with an account of a father and son working on a project.
I thought he was talking about John Shackford senior and junior building our place.
As the two were working on the rafters, the son questioned his dad, “That’s six inches off, let me fix it.”
Naw, came the reply: “Just nail it!”
~*~
Sadly, I’m having to admit my realization of how often in my life that’s been the case.
And also, in our home project, how grateful I am that our contractor Adam would never settle for such sloppiness.
We fully intend for this house to last another 239 years.
I would have said alert but she’d counter twitchy.
I would have said observant but she’d counter oblivious.
I would have said free-thinking but she’d counter too serious.
I would have said independent but she’d counter aloof.
I would have said sensitive but she’d counter nervous.
I would have said inquisitive but she’d say I rarely ask questions.
I would have said accepting but she’d counter indecisive.
I would have said nurturing but she’d counter cold.
I would have said serious but she’d counter silent.
I would have said playful but she’d counter negative.
I would have said witty but she’d counter legalistic.
I would have said intelligent but she’d counter uptight.
I would have said slightly bent but she’d counter insecure.
I would have said self-sufficient but she’d counter evasive.
I would have said caring but she’d counter mean.
I would have said spiritual but she’d ask how that makes me a better person.
I would have said spirited but she’d counter lazy.
I would have said somewhat reserved but she’d counter socially deficient.
I would have said somewhat shy but she’d counter loner.
I would have said elitist in quest of excellence and quality but she’d counter self-centered.
I would have said egalitarian in opportunity and expectation but she’d counter workaholic.
I would have said outdoorsy but she’d counter escapist.
I would have said rainbow chaser but she’d counter impractical.
I would have said aging but she’d agree.
I would have said youthful but she’d counter bald.
I would have said honest, direct but she’d counter defensive.
I would have said exploring but she’d counter unemotional.
I would have said hedonist but she’d counter fiscally irresponsible.
I would have said ascetic but she’d counter dull.
I would have said a bit gallant but she’d counter straight-laced.
I would have said organized but she’d notice I rarely dust.
I would have said self-starter but she’d counter with a list of projects.
I would have said visionary but she’d counter icy.
I would have said original but she’d counter quirky.
I would have said inventive but she’d counter weird.
I would have said creative but she’d counter unrealistic.
I would have said hopeful but she’d counter inexpressive.
I would have said responsive but she’d counter boring.
I would have said kind, gentle but she’d counter too serious.
I would have said frugal but she’d counter tight-fisted.
I would have said financially marginal but she would have countered too willing to pay full price.
~*~
Mirror, mirror, on the wall?
Once upon a time, meaning not all that long ago, trying to track down ten more or less related facts impinging upon a particular topic would have required a very tedious amount of time in a library. Or may some more remote back office or agency, wherever.
Instead, thanks to the Internet, the list can be cobbled together within a few hours on a laptop.
It can seem like cheating or at least borderline plagiarism.
No guaranties on accuracy, either.

Deep moss beside a trail included this patch. Somehow, I find it rather striking.
To explore related free photo albums, visit my Thistle Finch blog.
Last year I presented a Double Tendrils about the popular and seemingly ubiquitous snack of popcorn. Quite simply, it’s not just for watching movies. And around this time of year, we start eating more. Not only that, but it turns out to be a uniquely American contribution to the world’s cuisine.
The topic simply overflowed so much that we didn’t have room for tidbits about its deep history.
So here goes with ten related factoids that pop up on that front.
Remembering gazing forlornly at LS, the cheerleader of the mysterious olive skin, and dark brown eyes etc.
Jenny, a year older, at the other end of our street, too.
The ache … tongue-tied, like facing a childhood hero or famous actor or scientist …
A shadow of that looking at prime foliage.

It’s kind of a secret spot, actually, just north of Eastport’s downtown. The people who live overhead can’t even see it.