Crunching the Numbers

It's a blessing to have eleven family members all in one house on vacation, but coordinating logistics, such as where to go and when to leave, what to eat and whose to cook, can be challenging, especially with a group who range so widely in age. Statistically it might seem overwhelming, but I think we're doing just fine.

 

Just dig a little deeper into the data. The median? That's Emily 2, and the mode is Treat and Josh, both the same age. The smallest is Annabelle, and the largest is me. Sure, there are 46 years that separate our ages, but in between there is Emily, Bill, Courtney, Heidi, Emily, Victor, Treat, Josh, and Nadika, and a whole lot of love and mutual respect. 

And that's no mean thing.

Come Again Another Day

The rain arrived on schedule this afternoon, although Courtney and Annabelle did not. Their flight was delayed a second time, pushing their arrival to a full 24 hours late. Coincidentally? Victor and Emily will be on the same plane with them tonight into Bangor from Boston. 

Knock on wood.

That Maine Thing

We tossed around several hiking possibilities this morning before settling on our plan for the day: it had to be Acadia Mountain. Just a few minutes from our rental house, the hike features a steady and challenging climb through a balsam forest up to granite ledges punctuated by shrubby blueberry, juniper, and huckleberry, and opening up to amazing views of Echo Lake, Somes Sound, and all the little Islands in the Atlantic Ocean beyond. It's everything I love about hiking in Maine, and today our hike was quintessentially so: warm sun, cool sea breeze, photos at the summit, and lunch on the ledges overlooking the sound just below. When we spotted two bald eagles soaring a couple hundred feet away, I knew it doesn't get much better than that.

There's Always Something

Few vacations are without their challenges, but this trip is really starting to rack them up. 

To start with, Richard and Jordan can’t come, and Victor has COVID in Iceland. When Heidi, Emily, Josh, and I arrived at our rental house it was all locked up, despite the promise that the door would be open. When at last the agency returned our message from their emergency line and led us to the "secret key", we found that the place itself is sort of strange. 

The original part of the house was built in 1828 and the structure was added to over the centuries. The result is sprawling and warren-like, room leading to room. The decor is somewhere between museum and cottage, and after being closed up in the uncharacteristically warm June sunshine the place smelled 200 years old before we opened the windows and turned on the fans. 

But, when Heidi was opening one of the old fashioned storm windows, the heavy sash slipped and fell on her fingers. She’s in the ER right now, properly cared for and waiting for X-rays and possibly stitches, but it was a harrowing and bloody ride to the hospital with real fears of partial amputation.

And yet, here I sit on a comfortable bench watching the sun set over the eponymous Bar Harbor and its yachts, schooners, and lobster boats. COVID precautions prevented me from waiting with Heidi as she was treated, and with at least a couple of ours to kill, I walked the few blocks from the hospital to town. 

Emily and Josh are making dinner and caring for the dogs at our place: Treat and Nadika are on their way; Bill will be here tomorrow morning; Courtney and Annabelle will arrive tomorrow night; and fingers crossed? Victor and Emily will make it on Monday.

The world is a turbulent place, for sure,  but there is beauty to be found beside the turmoil, too. 

The Only Way Out Is Through

We had the van packed and ready to go by 7:15, hoping to thread the traffic needle on I-95 up the Eastern Seaboard. Our interim destination was Andover, MA, a trip that could take a little over seven hours, if we were lucky. That would leave another four and a half or five to get up to MDI tomorrow. 

Josh rode with Emily and Rosie to spell the driving, and Heidi and Lucy and I were right behind them, until the display on our fancy rental van dropped the map app on my phone. We pulled over to the curb and sat reading the manual and troubleshooting for about 20 minutes. 

"F*ck it!" I told Heidi and twisted the knob on the dash board to put the van in drive. "Lets' go." By the time Heidi actually fixed the problem (by turning everything off and on again) we were inching along in stop and go traffic north of Baltimore. Navigation system activated, I took the next exit and bypassed the snarl. 

We made pretty good time until we were about 20 miles south of the GW Bridge on the Jersey Turnpike. Against my better judgment, I had followed the map instead of bailing for the Garden State Parkway and the Tappan Zee Bridge. Soon we were gridlocked by an accident, our route a red line on the display, and the delay time creeping from 10 to 20 to 25 minutes. 

With nothing to do, we texted Josh and Emily, who having narrowly avoided the obstruction were 30 minutes past the bridge. From there, the clock was against us. We entered Connecticut with a glut of other vacationers and commuters leaving early for the weekend. I-84 was delayed for miles, and we decided to gas up and look for a work around. 

Despite the displeasure of our navigation app, we found ourselves making pretty good time through some lovely New England towns. We rolled past village greens, stone walls, churches, one room schoolhouses, and town halls. Eventually, there was nowhere else to go but back on the highway, and although we didn't avoid all the slowdowns, we missed a few of them. 

It was 7:45, twelve and a half hours after our departure when we finally made it to the hotel. Emily and Josh had beat us by an hour or so, but there we were: tired to be sure, but so much closer to Maine.

Now and Then

Josh arrived this morning on a red-eye flight from Denver. He's here to road-trip up to Maine with us and join the big celebration for my birthday next week. Tired, but hungry, he opted to go out to breakfast before coming home for a nap. Of course we went to B&Es, the diner we've been taking him to all his life. As the three of us settled into our booths, Heidi and I hardly needed to look at the menu, but Josh took a minute. 

"Don't you want a milkshake to go with that?" I teased him, after he ordered scrambled eggs, sausage, and grits.

"Did I used to get that?" he asked.

"Yeah," I laughed, "and then you never ate your breakfast."

"Why did you guys let me do that?" He shook his head.

"It was fun, and you were on vacation," I told him.

"And because you wanted it, and we loved you!" Heidi added.

"I guess you did spoil me," he said, "but it seems to have worked out fine."

Special Effects

We had summer break plans to go with our friend Mary to see the new Top Gun movie, so I texted her some showtimes this morning. "That works," she replied. "Do you want to get the tickets and I'll give you $$?"

Mary is a month older than I am. "Yes," I replied. "I'll make sure to get you the senior discount."

After saving a buck on the ticket, we bought popcorn and settled into our seats to enjoy the previews. "Just think, in a little over a week, you can have the senior discount, too!" Mary said as the lights went down.

The last clip before the show was Tom Cruise himself, thanking us for coming to the theater to see his movie on the big screen. He didn't look quite as buff and dyed as he did for Top Gun and the Mission Impossible trailer we had seen earlier: his wrinkles were visible, and there was gray in his shaggy hair. 

"That guy can get a senior discount, soon, too!" I laughed, because for once? He looked like he actually might be turning 60 a few days after I do.