Magical moments of ‘what am I doing here?’

It’s not just the scenery, either, though I am a visual person.

Sometimes it’s the fascinating people around me.

Or the fresh food on my plate.

Or an arts event I’m attending.

Or my life journey in general, with all of its twists from my native corner of Ohio.

Or waking up to a fine cup of coffee, even though these days it’s decaf.

Most of the time, the exclamation is one of joy, though there are a few others when it’s pure puzzlement.

Here? It’s nowhere like what I imaged much earlier on the way.

How about you?

All these guys I know are hitting 75 around me. And I’m biting my tongue.

Eastport and the neighboring towns are filled with fascinating characters, and it’s been delightful getting to meet so many of them in my new community.

One thing I keep hearing the men say, though, is that they’re coming up on their 75th birthday and, well, they’re beginning to feel realities of getting older. No matter how physically fit they seem.

Gee, do I really think they look a little older than me? Or do I really look young for my age?

Even though I’ve been viewing this as my Diamond Anniversary?

Let me utter a big sigh.

Much of what our commercial fishermen catch isn’t ‘fish’

Eastport’s fleet doesn’t use nets to fish. Rather, they use dragging gear or baited traps, mostly.

Technically, the bulk of what they catch isn’t fish, which are vertebrates, have gills, and lack limbs with digits. Fish fall into the scientific superclass of Osteichthyes, as noted in a previous Tendrils.

Shellfish, meanwhile, are invertebrates, have external skeletons, and are classified as molluscs, crustaceans, and echinoderms. See a more recent Tendrils.

So today, let’s look at what the local commercial fishermen catch. Or, in some cases, used to.

  1. Lobsters. The mainstay.
  2. Scallops. Some of the world’s best, in our humble opinion. The haul, though, is tightly regulated.
  3. Clams. While many of these are raked on sand or mud flats at low tide, others are dredged by boats at sea. They add up to the state’s third most valuable fishery.
  4. Urchins. A specialty niche making a comeback. Japanese foodies love them, but the market’s tricky.
  5. Crabs. See a previous Tendrils.
  6. Alewives, herring, and mackerel. Often caught for use as lobster bait.
  7. Shrimp. Well, not anymore, but we can keep hoping the stock will rebound.
  8. Mussels. There are some interesting attempts to establish farmed beds around here. Now that would be lovely.
  9. Cold. I’m talking about the crusty fishermen. They do bundle up in the depth of winter, though, and rarely complain.
  10. The sunrise. They head out early, all seasons of the year. Some of the views they catch are unbelievable.

Let’s not overlook salmon, a major product here, which are farmed in pens and harvested directly by special boats using tubes that work something like a giant vacuum hose. Not kidding.

A guardian angel appears for Maine’s daily newspapers

All but one of the state’s daily newspapers recently came under new ownership, but the surprise is that it’s not a mass-media corporation run by profit-squeezing accountants or, worse yet, investment brokers.

Instead, they now come under a non-profit committed to maintaining community journalism.

I’m hoping this is a wave of the future.

Curiously, it’s also something my last employer, the conservative New Hampshire Union Leader, turned to for continuation.

It will be vital to see how this plays out.

 

Red squirrel jitters

Squirrels were a pestilence back in Dover, raiding our garden and devouring the crown molding in our barn, in addition to some damage to the house itself.

While deer are a problem here, we haven’t had squirrels.

But the other day, I looked up from my keyboard and saw a small red squirrel scampering across our brush pile.

A few minutes later, my wife, working in another room, called out to say she’d seen a squirrel.

“A red one?”

Yep.

They’re worse than the grays we had, in the opinion of many.

So far, at least, it hasn’t been back.

Cross our fingers. We really no longer see them as cute.

My range didn’t expand to the whole state

Statehood for New Hampshire was accompanied by growth in the Merrimac Valley and western side of the state, including Quaker Meetings.

Weare, especially, became a Friends center, with two large meetinghouses in town and another in neighboring Henniker. There was also the Clinton Grove academy.

Much of that growth, however, came from Massachusetts, not Dover, and so it fell outside the focus of my Quaking Dover story. They were even in a different Quarterly Meeting than the one encompassing the communities emanating from Dover.

Just in case anyone was wondering.