Barometer of Pleasure

Once we finally arrive at the cabin, we generally don't leave, except to run to the market, restock our craft supply, play candlepin bowling, or grub on some deep fried seafood at Reds. Frequently the kids sometimes don't put their shoes on once.
As a by-product of this non-exploratory style, my knowledge of this unusual landscape where the ocean and the rivers co-mingle in wide, peaceful brackish stretches of lobster-trap filled water is vague. Or rather, straight up lacking.
Where the heck are we? Here, between Casco and Penobscot Bays:

Here, on the Damariscotta River:



But really, just right here up on the hill:

And mostly, down here on the water:

Today the barometer of pleasure, as measured by Grace's fluffernutter residue, is high:

And the barometer of pain, as measured by Zoey's mosquito bites, is also running hot:

Poor kid!

Overall, with sun in the morning and a dramatic storm just touching us as it sped by in the afternoon, we relished a full and fun-packed day.

The only bad part was saying goodbye to Liz's close friend from high school, Emily, who has been creating some seriously tough patterns in Mastermind, schooling me on magazine design, and surfacing some hilarious Vance high-school stories.


Here's the Oberlin gang, and a photo of Kate in one of Emily's elegant and simple dresses from her Summer collection, (when she's not art directing, Emily's designing her own clothing line):

After Emily left, Stella, Kate and I snuck out to get some yarn, and a can of Moxie, (like Stella needs any more of that.)