Be prepared

The snow had been glorious here in Acadia, until the sky dumped a few inches of icy slush on top of it this week.

Rockefeller Hall, Schoodic Institute

We got to shovel that mess while it was still raining sleet. With the right protective outerwear, including hand knit wool mohair gloves, I remained dry. Well my hands weren’t dry but they were still warm.

When the snow was still fluffy, we skied the carriage roads here on the Schoodic peninsula and on Mt. Desert Island (referred to as MDI if you don’t want to worry about how to pronounce dessert as dessert here).

Schoodic trail

Tim whisked me away to Deer Isle for Valentine’s day (I made him another mask, three layers with two layers of cloth sewn around a surgical mask) and we skied and walked in the woods.

I came upon this memorial bench. Apparently George is still kicking but they are prepared to remember him.

I joined the herd

The vaccination is the first step in creating herd immunity. Finally a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel, even while infections surge worldwide. I urge you to do the same when you get the call.

I learned Thursday I was eligible and drove 16 hours there and back to get it. Another whirlwind. But worth it.

In the brief hours I spent at home, I finished two projects: napkins for us to use in Maine; and a baby sweater. That’s a wrap for 2020 works in progress.

I drove from sunrise to sunset two days in a row. I left Schoodic peninsula shrouded in frozen fog! Whoever heard of such a thing. It leaves a thin shell of slippery ice on everything.

Starbucks cold brew made my trip possible. Caffeine in a can. Great sipping during a 9 hour drive.

Back in Maine, we can hear the whistle buoy from home. Reminds me of a mourning from my other home in the Adirondacks.