For anyone who visits the YMCA regularly, Pat Fraker is no stranger. During my visit with her at the Y, people of all ages checked in for various uses of the facilities – the pool, track, exercise rooms, etc. This was in addition to answering frequent phone calls: “Good morning, YMCA, Pat speaking. May I help you?” And during these most recent and trying times, “Which pool please?” It's been so long since I visited the Y, I didn't realize that folks sign up for a specific time, day and lane to swim – during COVID. It’s a system that appears to work as demonstrated by Pat's notes for scheduling.

I've dug for a clam.

I was a curious soul upon my second arrival in Maine. It was me and Betty Ford, my 1967 Twin I-beam Ford pick up. We were ready and I was determined to blend in. After all, Maine wasn't so different. Just more water.

I met the nicest lady from Rockland on Saturday. It was a spectacular spring day and we met on the Department of Marine Resources lawn. This was our vantage point from which we could view the high school sailboat racing. I was told about the race by friends and they suggested the viewing location. I didn't have a boat, neither did she, at least not one here in the harbor. I suspect she may have a boat in Rockland. She knew a lot about sailing and could tell from my dumb questions that I did not. I was grateful for her answers to my questions.

It’s not every day that we get to introduce a new word to the world. I do not take this opportunity lightly. It seems more likely to find old words being given new meaning. Take “pivot” for example. I am noticing a lot of pivots these days. It seems to be one of those words that have found their way into new uses. You are now pivoting a career. Or, one can pivot. I'm not very hip to new language uses. Having said that, I have enough trouble using the words I know. Maybe I should pivot!?

First off, let me say that Kevin Burnham's photograph of the Maine State Ferry launch at Washburn & Doughty's shipyard is better than mine. But we were in attendance for different reasons. Kevin had a job to do, and he was on the better side of things than I. As you can see, Kevin's photo was just right for good lighting on the boat. I was across the cove at Ocean Point Marina. From our angle the boat was back lit with an overcast sky – not a good combination unless you are photographing water lilies in the community pond.

Since last week's (April Fool’s Day) adventure involving a fake snowstorm went over like a lead balloon, I figured I'd try to redeem myself with a view from a real balloon. Our wonderful neck of the woods viewed from above is fascinating, to be seen as a seagull might and a water buffalo might not.

Last night's snow really caught me by surprise! The mild weather we've been having made me think we were done with the white stuff, but my memory is short. The 2020 April storm should have made me a little less hopeful. Actually there were two storms in April last year leaving over 250,000 customers without electricity. I should have known. Spring is just a figure of speech here in Maine.

I came to Maine by accident twice. My first visit was in 1963 with two hometown friends from our small town in central Pennsylvania. We traveled in a two-door 1961 Plymouth Valiant. John was considering the priesthood and wanted to visit Saint-Anne-de-Beaupre' cathedral in Quebec. John invited his friend Mike and they asked me to join them.

Jenny Bennett used to write for the Boothbay Register. I remember thinking, ahhhh, a new voice at the paper. Lovely. Her writing was clear and sharp, to the point with no messing about. But, things changed at the paper and Jenny, along with others, disappeared. Bummer.

Recently I was asked to take my clothes off four times. This is not a common occurrence although it wasn't the first time! The awkward part was being asked to to do this for different people in different rooms, then to drape myself in what medical folks refer to as a “johnny.” For anyone who has not tried this, please do not feel left out. Looping a cloth string behind your neck and down behind your back is exasperating. Tying my shoes can still frustrate me, especially with laces made from some foreign material that constantly slips loose. I guess that is why, back in the day, I used rawhide laces on my Redwing work boots, knotted, then looped into hooks, bypassing the lacing process.

“Birds of a feather flock together,” or so it seems.

These are not snowy owls, nor were they intended to be. They are, as is abundantly clear, in-flight Canada geese. If you have a sizable stretch of open lawn, you will recognize their profile.However, in this moment of caught-in-flight, there is no sign of the slime noodles we all seek to avoid. I suspect, at one time or another, we zigzagged our way through the Canadian digestive extracts.

Aunt Bea and Uncle Bud MacLeod purchased land in Rangeley in the early 1970s. At the time they were living on a 50-acre farm in Glen Moore, Pennsylvania. As it turned out they were a bit ahead of the organic farming curve and the newly evolving “regenerative agriculture” techniques promoted by Mr. Rodale. Uncle Buddy and Mr. Rodale were contemporaries and friends. Many will recall the Rodale publications of the time, such as, “Prevention” and “Organic Farming.” Bea and Bud's farm was not far, as the crow flies, from Rodales’ property.

Welcome aboard everyone. For this week's adventure we will do a little travel back to a time of Goudy and Stevens Shipyard, eventually a Hodgdon Yachts facility, now owned by Washburn and Doughty. I think before Goudy and Stevens it may have been a Hodgdon Brothers yard--- not sure about that. At any rate, even though the property has seen many changes, it remains sacred ground in the history of boatbuilding on the banks of the Damariscotta River.

I seem to recall from my WBLM “daze” (my misspelling) that Mercury retrograde, as advised by the “Cosmic Muffin,” was probably not the best time to hang the laundry out to dry. Don't ask me why, because I haven't a clue when it comes to astrology, or, for that matter, hanging clothes out to dry. The last time I tried to save a few nickels by not using the electric dryer, the clothesline broke under the weight of frozen personal items.

One of the coolest things about my weekly adventure in our local weekly is the feedback I receive from those who dare to follow along. Take, for example, last week’s photo story.

Admittedly, I went a bit off the rails, as I am prone to do! Between tooth brushing with something I mistook for Crest and the amount of daylight, the road to Terabithia may have been Uber challenged. Sorry. But, today, I will try to redeem myself.

I brushed my teeth with Solanpas. I thought it was a tube of Crest toothpaste. It had a numbing affect. Not a great addition to my seasonal affective disorder (SAD).

Which leads me to the topic of today's discussion – our lengthening daylight.

The negative from which this image was made has not seen the light of day in over 30 years. That would make it one of my younger offspring in my collection of processed films of over 50 years. Where does the time go? Perhaps one day I will get around to organizing all my files. Perhaps not.

My wife and I and Gardiner Savings bought the old fire station on Route 27 in Boothbay in 1995. It’s still there across the street from the old town garage/office which has been lovingly cared for by George McEvoy and crew.

The old fire station was being sold to help finance the new fire station, which is farther up the road on 27. It was a big step for us but a good neighborhood. The neighbors to the south were quiet. It was our hope to establish a photo gallery for me and a place from which we could conduct higher visibility interaction with the buying public. It didn't really work out. I got way too antsy sitting around hoping people might walk through the door to buy some of my work or schedule time. I had set up a formal studio there as well. Sometimes you’re the windshield and sometimes you’re the bug. Bug time!

This is the sunrise we were hoping for on Dec. 31, but it wasn't. There was a sunrise on the 31st, but it was not visible behind a thick bank of clouds as viewed looking toward Monhegan from Ocean Point.

Why is this significant, you might ask. Well, Dec. 31 was our daughter Morgan's 30th birthday, and one of the things she has always liked to do on her birthday is to see the sunrise.

I was sitting on an overturned bucket aboard Red Hook with Mark Stover at the helm, Alva Achorn at the ready, and perfect summer sunshine all around. Don Viens was nearby on the dock with his boat blasting some “Dead” and we were all gesturing back and forth as young children are want to do! OSHA had taken the day off and the Coast Guard was preoccupied with larger issues. Eddie Tibbetts was hanging a new sign for the “Atlantic Edge” from a jury-rigged platform balanced precariously, teetering atop a pristine pallet at the end of a fully extended forklift. It was a scene from “The Hardy Boys’ Next Adventure.” “God save the Queen.” Please Don, turn up the music!