I’m entering my third full day of ‘ramp down’ mode. Actually, since I’m writing this early on a Monday afternoon, I guess by the time this is published I’ll be in my fifth day of the aforementioned mode.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m on vacation. My wife and I arrived at our rental cottage in Maine on Saturday afternoon, totally psyched for two weeks of R & R and of course, primed to devour vast quantities of lobster along with any other creature known to dwell in the briny deep that doesn’t eat us first!
We’re hidden away in a quaint little wooded area on the coast of Southern Maine, high on a hill well off the beaten path about 100 yards from the ocean. I’m sitting at the kitchen table as I compose this little ditty and when I feel the need for some inspiration (which I do right now) I just gaze longingly out the window and soak in the pastoral views of wildflower laden fields and dense, green woodlands rolling down the hill and spilling out onto the rocky shores of the mighty Atlantic.
Hmmm! That didn’t so much conjure up inspiration as it did make me want to go out onto the deck, flop down into the hammock and take a nap. But right now, I need to get focused and get this column done; not an easy thing to do in this bucolic setting.
But it can be done. I know I can do it, because I’ve written columns while on vacation in the past. Last year I wrote my column, , for the Easton Patch while kicking back with my wife and our oldest grandson, Logan, on the banks of the New Meadows River in West Bath (also in Maine).
A few years before that I wrote a piece for the Sun Chronicle entitled, Beware Of Online Promises, in which I chronicled our rather faux pas laden two week respite on the Back River in Georgetown, Maine.
And the year after that, in a column for The Burnside Writer’s Collective, I related the story of my somewhat obsessive (and annoying – just ask my wife) propensity for hunting for the lowest lobster prices on the southern coast of this gorgeous state. I called that one, Eating Maine.
Oh, and by the way, I prefer to think of my little obsession for trudging all over coastal Maine in search of rock bottom lobster deals as a demonstration of testicular fortitude; a badge of honor.
After all, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do – even while on vacation. Hey, don’t be so judgmental! You relax your way and I’ll relax my way! Got it?
You know, I could get used to this whole vacation thing. It’s a great gig! That other thing is highly over-rated. You know what I’m talking about; that anti-vacation thing. I believe it’s called work!
Who the heck invented that work thing anyway? And more importantly, if he or she thought it was such a great idea, why didn’t they finish it themselves instead of passing it off onto all of us?
Well gang, we’re off to eat some more seafood and have a few cold ones. Then we’ll probably come back here, sit out on the deck and stare vacantly off into the distance – and have a few more cold ones. And you know what? After that I think I’ll have a glass of bourbon and smoke a cigar.
Yup, I’m diggin’ this! I have no idea what’s going on in Norton and frankly I don’t care. Not even a little.
Make it a great week!