Morning Runs and Summer Races

Short and sweet, a morning run usually lasts 30 minutes to an hour depending on the day and weather conditions. My dog, Penny, wakes me up at o'dark early, so our day begins with a sunrise walk along the Kennebec, and then I put on my running shoes. I step out the side door, stretch a bit, and run less than a block before turning toward the river. The running views are so different from the walking views! When I'm walking with Penny, I like to take pictures of the boats, the buoys and, of course, the wildflowers, but when I'm running the images soften and blur like a Monet. It's really difficult to snap a photo when your feet are in motion, so I try to breathe in the beauty and save it to my hard drive, my collection of happy thoughts!

For a runner, the route is all important. In Illinois, I run along flat roads, but in Bath I run up and down hills, serious inclines that slow you down and make you sweat. It isn't always pretty! To quote Jackson Brown (Yes, I did see him in concert in the 1970's!), when I'm "running on empty," I simply look out on the water and fill up with all that morning glory! The endorphins usually kick in as I reach Bath's City Hall at the top of Front Street and round the corner to approach Waterfront Park. The short stretch through the park is one of my favorite places along my five mile route. Perhaps that's because it comes early, and it's so peaceful there that time of day. There's rarely a tourist in sight, but I always have a chance to say hello to the groundskeeper, and we agree that it's a great day to be in Bath! From the park, I loop back to Front Street and pass by the Patten Free Library, which for me is a sweet spot in Bath. Across from the library stands the rather new Hampton Inn, which is super convenient for travelers heading north on Route 1. My warm-up is complete at this point, and the real miles begin. I run north now on Front Street until it intersects with Washington and Drummond at the top of an incline which requires a glance to my right, to the Kennebec, as I continue north on Washington up towards the dead end with no turn around for large trucks. This is the prettiest part of my morning run. The views keep getting better and better! In my mind's eye, I'm gathering the flowers at the side of the road and saving a picture of a red canoe, and a boat house, and a front porch at the bend in the road. It all seems like a warm slice of cinnamon coffee cake! Yesterday, I decided in a short breath that I would have to return to this stretch of road to take pictures. Later that day, around 4 o'clock, I returned with Penny and my camera to capture the river's smile. At 50 something, I've learned you cannot trust your brain to remember all the details clearly. Photographs really do help!

 Like most runners, I feel a day or two younger at the end of a long run. That feeling never ceases to amaze me. I don't feel "newer" like the Hampton Inn on Commercial Street; rather, I feel refreshed like the old houses on Washington Street that have been purchased by new owners! I have to give credit to Sam Armentrout, the seller's agent for our Maine house, for sharing her intuitive wisdom with us. When Sam greeted Joe and I at the Bath Farmers Market for the first time last summer, she said "Old houses love new owners!" As fate and Bath would have it, she was right. There are quite a few new home owners along Washington Street. I see them as I run by their gardens and driveways, and they are certainly busy planting, painting, repairing and refurbishing. You can feel the endorphins of active people in motion! In some ways, Bath reminds me of a busy beehive, and we can always use more sweet honey!

Joe and I are a couple of early birds. Over a month ago we registered for Bath's annual 5 Mile Road Race on the Fourth of July because the first 50 runners to sign up receive a free t-shirt. Last summer five family members proudly wore the numbers 37 through 41, and we triumphantly put those free t-shirts on after the race! This year my son, Mark, and his girlfriend, Lauren, will be joining us. Competitive by nature, we've all been training hard. Knowing that, I am fairly certain that I will be the last of our daring group to finish, but I hope to PR (set a personal record). After all, it's the hopefulness that counts. Truth be told, Bath keeps me hopeful!

P.S. Next Bath Time, I will let you know how the 5 Mile Road Race turns out for our merry band of runners. May our feet take flight!

     

House and Garden Tour: 3 Anniversaries, 2 Weddings and 1 Room with a Loom

Flag Day, June 14th, is usually a beautiful day for flying Old Glory, celebrating anniversaries, walking down an aisle with someone you love, or creating art with your own two hands. On June 14, 2014, Joe and I launched our second summer in the Maine house by going on the Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc.'s 12th Annual House and Garden Tour. For the first time, SPI's tour left the City of Bath and chose to spotlight the "Architectural Gems & Hidden Gardens of Phippsburg." It was a good and timely decision because Phippsburg is celebrating their bicentennial this year. Such a significant historic event deserves an anniversary party, and thanks to a committee of 14 history loving SPI members, headed by the talented Judy Barrington, and a score of well informed docents, SPI put on quite a show for a continuous stream of people on a picture perfect day. The entire event felt like a progressive brunch among good friends, but instead of serving blueberry pancakes, gracious hosts opened their doors to share quaint rooms, picturesque views, and insightful facts about the architectural details and family histories of their homes. The Kennebec River seemed to be overflowing with extraordinary, almost scandalous, stories! Who knew that the history of an 18th century house would sound a lot like a J. Courtney Sullivan novel (Maine, The Engagements).

Jackie Hogg and John Atkinson, the charming English couple who own and operate The 1774 Inn at 44 Parker Head Road, had some lively tales to tell about Pre-Revolutionary War America. History tells us that sailors and shipbuilders are legendary risk takers. The McCobb-Hill-Minott House, now the 1774 Inn, has a colorful history that illustrates that notion. According to Jackie, the Georgian mansion was originally the property of James McCobb, a successful merchant, who landed on the peninsula in 1731 and bought up much of the land that is now Phippsburg. He had his elegant home along the Kennebec River built for his second wife. Yesterday and today, numbering wives usually foreshadows family drama, and so it was for the McCobbs! For James McCobb there was a third wife, who upon his death altered his will and claimed his mansion as her own so that she and her son, Mark Hill, could remain there.  This selfish act ignited a scandal because Thomas McCobb, James' son from his second wife, was at sea when it transpired. With revenge in mind, Thomas built a new, and even grander mansion, "The Spite House," across the road. Ironically, Mark Hill grew up to marry his stepsister, Mary McCobb, and partnered with his stepbrother, Thomas, in shipbuilding and ship ownership to create an enduring legacy. Charles Minott later purchased the grand house and its nearby shipyard in 1854 and went on to build 34 more vessels, including the last commercial wooden full-rigged ship built in North America. Visiting the 1774 Inn today is like stepping back in time. There is a Linden tree on the front lawn which was planted in 1774. Its graceful branches seem to reflect the long and intriguing history of this daring community. Our docent, Mr. Minott (not a ghost, but possibly related to Charles Minott) described the inn's back door as a "witch door" because it had both Roman and Greek crosses on it to ward off evil spirits. Personally, I found the "Woodshed Room,"tucked in a corner on the ground floor to be the most enchanting part of the house. This hideaway room opens up to a private verandah facing the Kennebec River. Now, that is what I call "magic!" Jackie told me it is by far the most popular room at the inn. On June 14th, it was reserved for a couple celebrating their anniversary (anniversary #2). I uncovered this fact surreptitiously by reading a note from the innkeeper on the nightstand. (Sorry, hand-written notes left on nightstands are simply irresistible!) Finding best wishes for a happy anniversary was a very sweet discovery at The 1774 Inn!

Anniversaries usually follow weddings, but on the SPI tour, the opposite proved true. The Sebasco Harbor Resort, down east on the Main Road, offered us a glimpse of our first wedding of the day. We spied a young woman carrying her coral bridesmaid dress to her cottage. A few minutes later we saw two men setting up 100 white chairs on the lawn overlooking the harbor. Later that afternoon the wedding guests would enjoy the same water view that Eleanor Roosevelt enjoyed when she stayed at the Sebasco Lodge. Nathan Cushman, the baker from White Plains, New York who founded the Cushman Baking Company in Portland as well as the Oakhurst Dairy, added Sebasco's unique Lighthouse accommodations in the 1930's. The Sebasco estate, however, dates way back to 1767 when Henry Totman bought 500 acres from James McCobb. (That name sounds familiar!)

The present owner, Bob Smith, invested millions of dollars to give the resort a new facelift. The Pilot House Restaurant and the Fairwinds Spa may be wrinkle free, but the stunning harbor view remains unchanged. And God must truly bless June brides because not a single drop of rain fell that afternoon on the peninsula!

Love was definitely in the air because our tour uncovered a second wedding just a few miles up the road. Joe and I definitely enjoy fine details, so we move slowly on tours. Several hours into the SPI tour, we realized we were running out of time, so we advanced quickly to numbers nine and ten. We were especially drawn to 153 Fiddlers Reach Road because it strongly resembled our home on Washington Street, so we decided to make it our last stop. Cold Spring Farm was number 9 on our tour, and we discovered our second wedding of the day in its barn. Constructed of homemade bricks, the farm's main house was built in 1773 by William Lee, a former chimney pot maker from Yorkshire, England. Local historians tell us that Mr. Lee arrived in Boston Harbor with his wife and six children on December 16, 1773, the day of the Boston Tea Party. This is an amazing fact, and we only discovered it because of the in depth research of Jane Morse, an area resident who wrote most of the house tour program. When we met Jane earlier on the tour, I immediately thought of Morse High School in Bath. Names really do replicate around here! Well, in typical Maine fashion, the Lee family owned Cold Spring Farm from 1773 until 1895. Later, it fell into disrepair, but a direct descendant of William Lee, Mrs. Marie Forbes, purchased the farm in 1932 and restored it to its original grandeur. She also built the double barn. She actually found two exceptional barns, disassembled them, and brought them to Cold Spring Farm Road to be reassembled. This is the same barn that served as a wedding chapel for two people in love on  June 14, 2014. There is definitely a romantic thread here because William Lee, Jr. married the daughter of James McCobb, and James gave the newlyweds his island, Lee's Island, as a wedding gift. One can only imagine what spectacular gift today's couple received: Island Magic or a Cuisinart?

Finally, we reached 153 Fiddlers Reach Road, an address and a home that truly reminds me of "Fiddler on the Roof" tradition. And since family weddings are a seasonal topic, William Lee's daughter married Daniel Campbell in 1797. Six generations of the Campbell family resided on this property until selling it in 1957. Tradition! Today, this Federal-style home is owned by Roger and Marcia Clark, and I was delighted to meet them because if homes reflect our personality, we probably have a lot in common. As luck and Bath would have it, we do. (We have children who make music for a living!) After meeting Marcia at the top of the stairs, I turned to discover our last hidden gem of the day, a loom! The Clarks converted a bedroom into a weaving room, and Marcia's loom now owns the space. The Halycon yarn from Bath looks magnificent on that elegant machine! Marcia was quick to tell us that her loom had traveled with her from home to home over the years, but this 18th century colonial was the first to offer her a room solely for weaving. Every artist deserves their own space! Although I am not a weaver, as a Spanish teacher I have met outstanding Zapotec weavers in Oaxaca, Mexico. The Zapotecs told me about cochineal, their hidden treasure, a tiny insect that provides us with carmine, a crimson-colored natural dye. When I mentioned cochineal to Marcia, she knew the historical significance immediately, and that's when I knew I had found good people among the architectural gems and hidden gardens of Phippsburg! Priceless!

P.S. If you pay attention to numbers, you probably noticed we are one anniversary short. Anniversary number three is my heart's gem. If my mother and father were still on this Earth, June 14, 2014 would have been their 62nd Wedding Anniversary.      

Riding the Historic Highways to Bath

It is impossible for all roads to lead to Bath, but in summer all of my road-trips do indeed lead to Maine's Cool Little City! In just a few days, Joe and I will be packing up the car with shorts, t-shirts, running shoes, bathing suits, beach towels and flip-flops! Of course, we will also throw in to our 13 year old SUV two vintage chairs and an oak library table that we found at the Kane County Fair in Illinois over 20 years ago. It's clear we like to keep and treasure old things that serve us well! As we move to the future, however, we do not keep both feet stuck in the 20th Century; rather, we program the Garmin for our favorite destination, Washington Street, Bath, and joyfully set it on the dashboard of our old, but highly functioning automobile. Except for the GPS, this whole picture is reminiscent of National Lampoon's Vacation with Chevy Chase. Wait, there is another obvious difference: Joe is better looking than Chevy Chase!

To reach our Maine house, we will travel 1,125 miles. Ironically, our journey begins close to the terminus of historic Route 66, the "Mother Road" between Los Angeles and Chicago. Of all the historic highways that crisscross the United States, Route 66 is probably the most famous because of Nat King Cole's 1946 recording of Bobby Troup's song, "Get Your Kicks on Route 66." Here's a fun fact: "Route 66" was also recorded by Chuck Berry in 1961, the Rolling Stones in 1964, Michael Martin Murphy in 1989 and by John Mayer in 2006 ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg2EbJy-9dc). The universal appeal of Nat King Cole's  rhythm and blues hit inspired the iconic 1960's TV show Route 66,which starred Martin Milner and George Maharis. In auditioning for the pilot, Marty Milner had to out perform Robert Redford to play the part of a young, ivy league graduate who inherits his father's Corvette and sets out to find himself with one of his father's former employees, a defiant Hell's Kitchen orphan, played by Maharis. Although the show ran for only four years, it has become an important part of television history because it was filmed all over America, and it explored the changing mores and social problems of the 60's. A few miles after pulling out of our driveway, Joe and I will cross over Route 66, and I will invariably think of the countless travelers who have driven along open roads, chasing their dreams and looking for adventure in far away places. As air travel becomes increasingly unpleasant, I find it so freeing to press the pedal to the metal and accelerate on the highway! It feels like America the Beautiful all the way!

  Route 20 is the longest road in the United States.

Joe and I will also be riding along Historic Route 20, a.k.a. Main Street, on our road-trip to Bath. Route 20 is considered the longest road in the United States. Coast to coast, from Boston, Massachusetts to Newport, Oregon it runs 3,365 miles with only a brief break in signage at Yellowstone National Park. In Illinois, Route 20 passes through historic Galena, where General Ulysses S. Grant resided after the Civil War, and then continues along the Ulysses S. Grant Highway to the south side of Chicago and on to the Chicago Skyway which takes you to Indiana. Joe and I used to live in La Grange, Illinois, and La Grange Road is in fact Route 20. Now, that is what we call highway trivia! You have probably heard of the game "Trivial Pursuit." If you have ever taken a family vacation in a station wagon, especially if you were in the way back facing backwards, you know that trivia can save your mind! Okay, let's get back on the interstate. U.S. 20 passes through Cleveland, Ohio skirting along the south shore of Lake Erie. At this point of our trip, we test our mental acuity by naming the five Great Lakes. In order to do this successfully, we rely on our grammar school mnemonic "HOMES,"and then we laugh like little kids because we feel so smart! Historic Route 20 can actually trace its origin to animal paths, native American Indian trails and early turnpikes. In fact, it was once called the "First Western Turnpike" and later the "Cherry Valley Turnpike." Today, Route 20 intersects with I-90, and it was probably the construction of state thruways that ended the golden era of the historic routes, 66, 20 and 1 that take us from Chicago to Bath.  In the 1920's, when Henry Ford was producing his Model T, the first affordable automobile, Route 20 blossomed from East to West. In 1954, however, New York started building the New York State Thruway, and motor travel was forever altered. People quickly embraced fast and direct interstate highways over peaceful and winding roads. The scenic routes with gift shops, miniature golf, drive-in movies and wishing well motels seemed to quietly disappear into the old maps of history. But once upon a time, when our children were very little, Joe and I stopped at Avon, New York along Route 20 to visit with our Uncle George. It was there that Uncle George took my favorite picture of our three children in the middle of a wide open field on a sunny August day.

Avon, New York on Historic Route 20 - August, 1990

As Joe and I travel I-90 from Buffalo to Albany, and the Massachusetts Turnpike from Lee to Auburn, we continue to crisscross Historic Route 20. (Adding to our trivial pursuit, we hosted the rehearsal dinner for Lauren and Matthew's wedding in Sturbridge at Rovezzi's Restaurant on Route 20.) Finally, after traveling on 290, 495, 295 and I-95, we meet Route 1, the oldest highway serving the East Coast, in Brunswick, Maine. After our two day trek across eight states, that U.S. Route 1 sign looks like the entrance to our Yellow Brick Road to Oz! But after each trip, we arrive with more joy than fatigue, because from the front seat of our thoroughly modern SUV, we have seen snapshots of enduring beauty, the American landscape at its finest. From tall corn in Indiana to dairy cows and vineyards in upstate New York, from birch and maple trees in the Berkshires of Massachusetts to evergreen trees and beaches in Maine, we have seen a magnificent slice of America, and the view seems to calm my anxiety over the unknown future. Somewhere in the middle of our 1,125 mile journey, I begin to relax, and I feel a sense of well being. Faced with so much change on a daily basis, our ride along the historic highways to Bath, shows us that some sweet ingredients of life remain the same. Quite simply, the view out the car window on a road-trip to Maine makes me happy, especially when I am sitting next to Joe. Let summer begin. Let's take a ride to Bath!    

A Tale of Two Proms

Like the Honey Locust and Magnolia, Redbud and Hawthorn, May is in full bloom, and I live in two cities where the residents know how to celebrate the fairest month of them all! In Bath, the young and the old dance around the Maypole, spin hula hoops in the park, and sail through the streets looking for treasures at the annual city-wide yard sale. If you listen, you can hear people humming a happy tune while they stroll along Washington Street. In Chicago, May Day historically begins with a political rally like Occupy Chicago in 2012, or the Haymarket Affair in 1896, but by Cinco de Mayo the serious mood lightens and the block parties begin, especially in Pilsin, the largest Mexican-American community in Chi-town. Here, like Bath, you will find happy feet dancing, and all around town people will be enjoying "churros y chocolate" for breakfast, and tamales all day long. At the end of winter, May calls us out to play and reminds us to be thankful. This is the month to appreciate mothers, teachers and nurses. This is also the time to recognize the glory days of high school, salute graduating seniors, and celebrate the beauty of being seventeen at the high school prom. A formal dance in May is a lovely tradition, and every year it helps our high school seniors let go of childhood and say goodbye in the most romantic way possible!

Do you remember being seventeen? My mother remembered very clearly because Frank Sinatra reminded her every day on the radio: "When I was seventeen, it was a very good year. It was a very good year for small town girls and soft summer nights. We'd hide from the lights on the village green when I was seventeen. ..." I may not hear Frank Sinatra on the radio as often as my mother, but I too remember being seventeen because I am forever in high school. As a Spanish IV teacher at Fenwick High School, I teach scores of seventeen year old students every day, and I have spent almost thirty years thinking about the impact of high school on American society. Such thoughts can keep you awake at night and inspire you to write blogs in the wee hours of the morning! But in May, high school can literally be the happiest place on earth! If you are reading this, you probably read A Tale of Two Cities in high school. (Everything changes and everything remains the same!) Well, I am about to tell you the tale of two proms. For parents, for teachers, and for chaperons, prom is the essence of nostalgia. Regardless of where you grew up, or what you do for a living, or how you spend your leisure time, high school is the great common denominator in America.  Some psychologists and television pollsters might even suggest that we are obsessed with high school. The plain truth is our high school stories connect us, so let's talk about Bath and Chicago style prom!

In Bath, the City of Ships, the juniors of Morse High School hosted the Senior Reception at the Maine Maritime Museum on May 10, 2014. "Starry Skies, Summer Nights" was certainly a fitting name for this dreamy event. For the 142 students who attended, it wasn't raining on prom night! In fact, a parade of couples passed through Library Park on Washington Street to have pictures taken at the gazebo.  There's a definite Twilight connection here. On prom night, didn't Bella and Edward dance in a gazebo in Forks on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State? Embracing your first love in a gazebo is clearly a dream come true! And in Bella Swan fashion, Morse's prom certainly had some fire and ice moments: there was a fire call at the reception! It was only a small kitchen fire, but the fire department arrived and by chance created an unforgettable photo opportunity. One young man, dressed in a GQ tuxedo, found himself standing next to his dad, a fire fighter, dressed in full gear. The photo is priceless!

The cast of Chicago Fire, a hit TV show that spotlights the valor of firefighters, did not make an appearance at Fenwick High School's prom on May 9, 2014, but like the Morse students, a good number of Fenwick students have moms and dads who are first responders, and that is a good thing because the music was electrifying! The venues in Chicago can be very expensive, so Fenwick's student council hosted the prom at the Eaglewood Resort and Spa in Itasca, a northwest suburb. It sounds relaxing, but everything is possible on prom night except relaxation! Have you seen the movie 21 Jump Street with Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum playing undercover cops in a California high school? Well, there were more than a few white tuxedos at Fenwick's "Party at Gatsby's," and at least one over zealous football player had to sit in the time out chair for a few minutes! But truly, the 336 high school students who attended Fenwick's prom looked like movie stars, and there were lots of Kodak moments. For some reason, seventeen year old girls look older than seventeen year old boys. It's universally mystifying! I think it has something to do with make-up and push-ups (not the gymnasium kind). But pictures never lie, all high school seniors look royal in formal attire, and it's fun to watch Prince Charming spin his Princess around the dance floor. Okay, as a chaperon I must admit I didn't see a single waltz, but there was a lot of hand waving. Later, my students told me that when the dance floor is packed you just wave your arms to imitate dancing. (With a little help from our students, teachers can keep current!) The band, Santa, featured a female guitarist and vocalist in a short white dress who resembled Katy Perry.  Needless to say, the very talented and attractive rock 'n' roll band kept the dance floor packed all night. 

In Rome, a senior from Bath invited his girlfriend to prom!

In order to connect a Senior Reception along the Kennebec River with a senior prom near Lake Michigan, all the stars have to align, and faculty and staff at two geographically separated high schools have to exchange a wave of emails. Thank heaven for Leslie Trundy and Amber McGowan, two generous guidance counselors at Morse High School who proved to be great communicators! For the past few weeks we have been chatting about high school farewells. Ironically, the seniors emotional goodbye to high school begins with an invitation to one last dance. In recent years, those invitations have become more and more creative. Amber McGowan's son, Aidan, is graduating this year from Morse, and Amber related to me the unforgettable story of how her son invited his girlfriend, Lynn, to their Senior Reception. No, he didn't fly her to the moon, but in April he did fly with her on a class trip to Italy, which is almost as spectacular, and while they were on their starlight tour of Rome, he escorted her to Trevi Fountain, purchased a single rose from a gypsy vendor, threw a coin over his shoulder, and asked her to go to the Senior Reception. This sounds like a scene from a Hollywood movie, or the sweet spot of a fairy tale! Can the story get any better? Oh, Chicago boys can be romantic, too. One of my students described the most romantic Fenwick invitation this spring. David's mother and little sister traveled to Orlando and video taped the Disney princesses urging Andrea to go to prom with him. After they returned home, David took the video over to a friend's house where Andrea was visiting, and while they watched the video, he presented Andrea with a crown and flowers, and then he asked: "Will you be my princess at prom?" I believe the giggles of Andrea and Lynn could be heard around the world when they said "Yes!"

Two handsome seniors and I.

Seventeen was a very good year. Do you remember? How could we forget.  

If Our Furniture Could Talk...

 If you want to know me, listen to my furniture. When Joe and I moved into our Maine house, we immediately felt the absence of a big chair with a soft cushion and a comfortable couch. At first we thought we could get by with the random furniture that we were able to purchase from the seller's estate, but moving-in is exhausting, and recovery calls for serious couch time! We bought a total of nine wooden chairs from the previous owner, but not a single one had a cushion soft enough for napping while watching reruns of "Scandal" and "Nashville," so we went to Country Farms Furniture in downtown Bath, and Joe fell into a Sam Moore Chair, and I fell into a Sam Moore couch. It was love at first sitting: a tangerine couch with two cushions and a light grey chair imprinted with big fuchsia and orange circles. As soon as we placed that new couch and chair in the family room, the house on Washington Street began to feel like home. On that summer day, a new family had moved into Bath, and along with my grandmother's rocker, my mother's lamp, and my Secret Life of Bees dishes from Anthropologie, came our personal history.

Given a voice, I believe our furniture could tell a compelling story about our lives. Even in silence, tables, chairs and dressers manage to reveal a good piece of our souls, and I don't think I'm alone in imagining furniture that talks. From Fantasia to Mary Poppins and on to Beauty and the Beast, Walt Disney breathed life into inanimate objects like buckets and spoons, dresser drawers, teapots and candlesticks. When the teapot in Beauty and the Beast sings "Be Our Guest" with Angela Lansbury's maternal voice in chorus with the castle's enchanted staff, I can feel the Prince's need for love! Without it, the castle is just a building, not a home. In a similar way, I can feel magic when Mary Poppins arrives to straighten up Jane and Michael Banks' room. Listening to Mary's commanding song,"A Spoon Full of Sugar," dresser drawers open and close; a small table is set, the toy box is filled, and the looking glass, just in time, echos one high note after another. The furniture at the Banks' house helps to narrate the joys and sorrows of a family in crisis. Of course, Disney is not the only creative thinker to use household items to reflect our stories. C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe shared a similar vision by using the wardrobe to suggest our dreams and fantasies. British author Lynne Reid Banks (no relation to Jane and Michael) created The Indian in the Cupboard, and by means of an antique cupboard he brought us back to 1761 and the Iroquois nation, which proves that sometimes antiques do serve as time machines! In the fairy tale Goldilocks and the Three Bears, furniture frames the narrative: three beds and three chairs; in Vincent Van Gogh's paintings of two chairs, we glimpse the souls of two tormented artists: Van Gogh and his friend, Paul Gauguin. Both in art and in life, furniture can reveal our personalities long after we leave the room! 

In early April, BBC Radio 3 ran a week-long series by novelist Ian Sansom called "The Essay: Furniture: A Personal History of Movable Objects." I didn't listen to the series on the radio; I read a summary in The BBC News Magazine. Okay, true confession, Joe found the article online, printed it, and left it on the kitchen table where all important papers are placed for morning review! Joe knows me so well! He knows that furniture matters to me because I am convinced it not only shapes our living space, it reveals our heart and soul. In the words of Ian Sansom: "All furniture communicates meaning ... A bed speaks of our inner lives ... Our cupboards and cabinets imply secrets. Wardrobes suggest our dreams of other worlds. And tables invite company." Joe and I obviously agree with Sansom because we purchased three round tables from the seller of our Maine house in order to be ready to entertain our summer guests as soon as possible. Whether it's in the kitchen, dining room or sun-room, we simply love to gather around the table with family and friends to discuss the world as we know it and to imagine all the ways we would like to change it! Of course, before you can engage in a round table discussion, you have to invite people to sit at your table. In Maine, Joe and I hope to welcome lots of people, and for that specific reason there is an old, half table in the entry with a glass vase, usually filled with flowers, and my Aunt Estelle's candy dish, ideally filled with chocolate. This antique table was there before we arrived; it greeted us so warmly that we decided to stay! And we asked to purchase the table with the house! Some things just go together: a coke and a smile; a table and a hallway!

A few weeks after moving into our house on Washington Street, Joe and I made one more significant purchase. On a rainy day we drove north to Wiscasset and stopped at the Avalon Antique Market. It seemed like the Maine thing to do! Within minutes of entering the store, I spied a walnut dresser with four drawers, and it called my name. On closer inspection, Joe found a metal tag on the back with the etching B. Altman & Company. As a native New Yorker, I recognized the name as a synonym for high society. (B. Altman was a gentile New York City department store that enjoyed a long and stellar run from 1865 to 1989 before it was forced to close because of hard times.) On that same rainy day on Bath Road, we also found an antique mirror, circa 1815, with two small drawers and a delicate shell inlay, and since the mirror complimented the dresser beautifully, we decided to buy both pieces for the master bedroom. With the dresser and mirror in place, the bedroom began to look more like us. If dressing mirrors could speak, I suspect they would have Disney tales to tell, and more than a few Olivia Pope scandals to whisper! Just imagine!

 Wherever our life's journey takes us, we are all looking for a good place to sit; a place to drink sweet tea in the summer and hot chocolate in the winter; a place with a soft cushion.  If only our furniture could talk, it would tell you how happy Joe and I are to be at home on Washington Street! 

Follow the Signs

Every day on my way home from work I pass a store front on Madison Avenue (Oak Park, not New York City) that's called "It's A Sign." Today is a Friday in April, and I teach high school seniors, so when I passed by "It's A Sign" at 4 p.m., I couldn't help but wish that the next sign would say "Historic Bath Exit." Of course, the next sign at Harlem Avenue is a left turn signal pointing towards the Eisenhower Expressway! Despite Chicago traffic, this girl Friday can dream of lazy days, and I find myself thinking about all the signs that remind me of Bath Time. There's a rhythm in and around Bath: quick, quick, slow; quick, quick, slow. I can feel that beat like the children of River City in "Music Man" feel the music of  Beethoven's Minuet in G Major, and I can practically channel Professor Harold Hill when I try to "think Bath" while I sit in traffic. But winter, spring, summer or fall, I hum a happy tune and tap the steering wheel with afternoon delight whenever I think about the places I love to visit in Bath. The best music man ever, Robert Preston, convinced us we could play the music if we could think it. I agree! Here's how Bath looks from the corner of Madison and Harlem in Oak Park, Illinois.

On a weekday morning, I like to stroll down Lambard Street to the Starlight Cafe for a quick breakfast to go. My favorite order is a cup of coffee with a raspberry white chocolate scone, and I usually take that sack of sweet energy straight across the street to the picnic table next to the Customs House. From that viewpoint, I can see the cars turning off the Sagadahoc Bridge on to Front Street. I can also see the Bath Freight Shed, the home of Bath's Farmers Market during the winter, and the home of Maine's First Ship, a reconstruction project that teaches the science of shipbuilding to students as it reconstructs the pinnace Virginia, the first ship built in North America  in 1607. If you want to feel the quick, quick, slow beat of Maine's Cool Little City, the Customs House picnic table is a sweet spot to enjoy both breakfast and Bath.

In summer the beat slows on a Saturday morning so everyone can leisurely fill their green sacks with fresh vegetables, fruit, bread and flowers at the Farmers Market. Shopping at the market at Waterfront Park is a perfectly lovely way to spend a morning. It's the unofficial meeting place for friends, neighbors and the librarians from the Patten Free library. I was surprised to see the library's two leading historians in line for the very same blueberry-lemon scones I wake up early for on Saturday mornings. It seems Robin, Peter and I have more than a love for history in common! There's a baker at Bath's Farmers Market who has perfected the blueberry-lemon combination, and if you happen to arrive late, you will leave disappointed because made in Maine blueberry-lemon scones disappear before 10 o'clock.

The Bath signs that I tend to see most vividly suggest flavor as well as rhythm. Thank goodness I would rather walk than drive, and sometimes I even prefer to run, especially along the river, because I tend to eat a lot when I'm in Bath, and the menus around the city are both trendy and tempting. One of my all time favorite places is Mae's Cafe. For lunch, I recommend the Norma Jean turkey sandwich with cranberry chutney. It is Marilyn Monroe beautiful! And on my way out, I usually buy a chocolate chip cookie for the road. I don't think it's wise to leave without one. The cookies are big, but they are light and easy to carry! And according to Scott, my daughter's boyfriend, the Eggs Benedict at Mae's are the best he has ever eaten! It's no wonder "Meet Me at Mae's" has become such a popular expression in and around Bath!

 At day's end my feet want to take me to Solo Bistro to dine at an upbeat, sophisticated restaurant where the food is farm fresh and the simple, crisp atmosphere reminds you of Denmark. The owners of this upscale Bistro, Pia and Will Neilson, have brought sparkle to downtown Bath. Pia is Danish, and perhaps her Danish roots add a unique boldness to the Bistro's French and American flavors. The cocktails, by the way, are outstanding. Solo Bistro introduced my husband to St. Germaine, and it is now and ever shall be his cocktail of choice! He ordered it in Paris, and he thought the French made it well, but not as well as the bartender at Solo Bistro. Coming from Joe, a man of discerning taste, that is a huge compliment! Without a doubt, Solo Bistro has become our special occasion place in Bath. Our daughter, Katie, recently celebrated her birthday there. She too finds the specialty cocktails extraordinary! What better way to say cheers to life and love! Let's eat, drink and be happy in Bath. All we have to do is follow the signs and "Think Bath."

You Can Get There From Here

Bath has forever altered the stereotypical, Maine phrase "You can't get there from here." I witnessed this change last summer at the Heritage Days' Parade. Scattered among the colorful floats and marching bands, I spied banners waving with the bold statement: "You Can Get There From Here." At first, the banners confused me. Where did we all want to go? But then I understood the clever play on words. For me, those bold banners were proof positive that Bath is Maine's Cool Little City because you really can get there from here. Portland's international airport is only 45 minutes away, and its fleet of jets are ready to take you across the country or across the sea. Truth be told, within weeks of moving into my house on Washington Street, I met people from Great Britain and Colombia; from Ohio and New Jersey; from Virginia and Alabama. People really do come from all over to live in this city on the Kennebec. Bath's inviting Main Street encourages people from everywhere to talk with each other, and it is through their lively conversation that life's lessons are shared and spirits are lifted. Bath is a community of travelers, and that is why I feel so at home here!

My good friend Joni loves a Bowdoin polar bear!

As the earth beneath our feet turns soft for the first time in months, it's a good time to travel. Recently, I attended a College Board workshop in Melrose Park, Illinois, which is definitely not an exotic destination, but my experience there is worth sharing because the presenter, Dr. Gustavo Fares, a native of Argentina, made a Maine connection. Dr. Fares was showing us helpful internet sites when he highlighted "Grammar Book (Bowdoin) on line," but he had trouble pronouncing "Bowdoin," and no one seemed to understand his reference to the work of Dr. Enrique Yepes, a Spanish professor at Bowdoin, so I raised my hand and said that Bowdoin College was in Brunswick, Maine. In a lecture hall filled with language teachers, it seemed like I had just spoken a foreign language, but then a few teachers from Michigan nodded in recognition, and I sighed with relief. At that moment I felt oddly protective of all things made in Maine, including on line grammar books! Since Brunswick and Bath are next door neighbors, and both cities are home to fabulous Bed and Breakfasts, I believe everyone who loves to travel should know where both of these northern lights are located! Most foreign language teachers love to travel, and I am no exception. I left the workshop that afternoon and went straight home to pack for my next trip. Joe and I left for Paris that evening!

The Pont St. Louis in Paris

From Bath Time to Paris Time is a five hour flash forward in a "Back to the Future" kind of way. While Paris is five hours ahead of Bath, the historical landscape of Paris swiftly transports you to the Middle Ages, the Renaissance or the French Revolution. You can feel the influence of King Louis XV and Napoleon as well as the inspiration of Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, and Ernest Hemingway, too. Now I know why Monet, Renoir and Pablo Picasso preferred to paint in Paris! Seven days in Paris is like seven days in a magnificent time machine, and to echo the words of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca: "We will always have Paris." The City of Light is simply enchanting with its Gothic palaces and towering cathedrals as well as spectacular museums like the Louvre, the Rodin and my absolute favorite, l'Orangerie, but for me the bridges are the most unforgettable part of Paris, especially the Pont Louis Philippe and the Pont St. Louis. From these two romantic bridges, which link the right bank to the little island and the big island in the Seine, you can see the spires of Notre Dame by day and the lights of the Eiffel Tower at night.  Of course, the views always seem more beautiful when you're holding hands! Rivers and bridges seem to bring us together as they take us from here to there! In my mind's eye, rivers connect Paris and Bath. The Seine and the Kennebec both offer breathtaking views on a starlit night. 

Omaha Beach, Normandy

The American cemetery, Normandy

During our stay in France, Joe and I left Paris only once to travel to the coast of Normandy. It was our sixth day in France, and the 29th Infantry Division had arranged a tour for us because Joe's dad was one of the lucky ones on D-day. When we arrived at Omaha Beach, I went to put on my L.L. Bean walking shoes and discovered that some Popham Beach sand had traveled with me. Seventy years after American, Canadian and British forces stormed the beaches, grains of sand from across the ocean were still coming to mix with the sand of Normandy. As we stood looking up at the the hills and the concrete bunkers that loomed above us, we could only imagine the terror of June 6, 1944. Later, we visited the American cemetery where we were met by more than 9,000 white crosses with a number of stars of David mixed among them. The marble crosses and stars stand tall in perfectly straight rows as they mark the graves of only 40% of the American servicemen who died fighting for freedom in France. Among the rows there are brothers resting side by side, like the Niland brothers of "Saving Private Ryan" fame. Private Jack Ryan is a fictional character, but Fritz Niland, a German-American from New York, was actually sent home from France after two of his brothers were killed on June 6th and 7th and a third brother was missing in action. While the loss of one son is unimaginable, the U.S. Army felt the loss of four sons would be unbearable. The visitors' center tells so many similar stories of sacrifice. As one scans the field of the American cemetery, the cost of freedom is crystal clear. The words competence, courage and sacrifice echo throughout the monument. Surely, a piece of America's heart is buried in Normandy.  In gratitude, the French government deeded the land for the American cemetery to the United States in perpetuity. It is a fitting tribute for so many young men of valor.

The Luxembourg Garden, St.- Germain, Paris

On our last evening in Paris, Joe and I ran along the Seine River and over the bridge to Ile St. Louis, and I wore my Seguin Island T-shirt from the mid-coast of Maine, and I thought about the light houses that have welcomed ships from across the sea to our shores of liberty for hundreds of years. I could only say a prayer, a prayer of thanks for the freedom we enjoy every day and for the young soldiers, airmen and sailors who fought so courageously to preserve it. Because of them, you can get there from here!