The handful of scheduled events not withstanding, the majority of the days in Patten were spent unscripted. Free flowing, we stayed up late, slept in late, played a lot of cards and did all those trivial little "back home" things you do when you feel at liberty to spend your time frivolously. Stacy got her Martha Stewart on and boiled up the majority of our blueberries and made a couple of quarts of jam. I stewed some of the rhubarb with some of the blueberries, some onions and garlic and made a pretty dang good chutney that we put over a Kinney farm-inspired pork roast for dinner one night. There were also blueberry and rhubarb muffins one morning as a pancake follow-up.
One night Stacy and I took the kids in Mimi's Outback and went all the way down the Shin Pond Road to the north entrance of Baxter State Park, pulling off on every logging road we passed looking for moose. Our never-fail moose call ("Ma-ma-ma-moooooooooo-sie!") did the unthinkable, however, and failed. Not a moose to be seen. But the pursuit was entertaining in and of itself. We got all the way up to Grand Lake Matagamon where we parked at a narrow beach and watched the sunset while the kids attempted (unsuccessfully) to skip rocks on the lake. A loon somewhere off in the distance was giving its foghorn impression. It was silent, tranquil and beautiful. It was also full of mosquitoes as soon as the sun was gone. Mosquitos take the romance out of things real quickly.
I also found some time to go through a few of Grammy Betty's old pictures and scanned a number I'd never seen before. I love old-timey pictures, especially if the subject is people or places I'm familiar with. Found some great pictures of my Dad as a teenager and some really old ones of my grandfather Norman as a fairly young man on a deer hunt.
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| My Dad, age 15. |
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| Dad with his kid sister Linda. |
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Cousin Anita, Mimi, sister Sue, me, cousin Richie, brother Mike.
At Grampy Norman and Grammy Betty's 50th wedding aniversary |
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| Dad and Aunt Marion (far right) at what looks like a hydro dam. |
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| My Dad with his parents and sister Linda at his other sister Marion's wedding. |
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| Grammy Betty and Grampy Norman's wedding. |
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| Anniversary party 50 years later |
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| Grampy Norman (standing far left) on a deer hunt |
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| Grampy Norman with Lobo at the farm. Note the lack of blueberry bushes. |
We found time to slip in one more sortee down to the farm for fruit. Grampy, Stacy and I engaged the blueberry bushes again while L and N took to denuding the apple trees. N took copious records of his apple picking conquests.
Eventually our allotted Patten time wrapped up and we loaded up the car to head on to our next vacation destination - a couple of days on the coast in Acadia National Park. We gave our hugs and said our goodbyes and then steered the Great White Menance of the Maine Turnpike down Route 11 toward I-95 and destinations south.
Before we actually hit the interstate, however, we took a quick side jaunt through the town of Sherman. There's a pretty little cemetary there on the other side of town and the last time I was in Maine I was able to find the graves of my great grandfather and grandmother, George and Nellie Perkins, who died long before I was born. Stacy had never seen them, so I took her by. While we were there we noticed something that we couldn't decide was cool or creepy. Right next to the Perkins family stone was one marked Harris, Stacy's maiden name. I guess we were destined to be together for all eternity past and future after all.
The handful of scheduled events not withstanding, the majority of the days in Patten were spent unscripted. Free flowing, we stayed up late, slept in late, played a lot of cards and did all those trivial little "back home" things you do when you feel at liberty to spend your time frivolously. Stacy got her Martha Stewart on and boiled up the majority of our blueberries and made a couple of quarts of jam. I stewed some of the rhubarb with some of the blueberries, some onions and garlic and made a pretty dang good chutney that we put over a Kinney farm-inspired pork roast for dinner one night. There were also blueberry and rhubarb muffins one morning as a pancake follow-up. 
We found time to slip in one more sortee down to the farm for fruit. Grampy, Stacy and I engaged the blueberry bushes again while L and N took to denuding the apple trees. N took copious records of his apple picking conquests.
Before we actually hit the interstate, however, we took a quick side jaunt through the town of Sherman. There's a pretty little cemetary there on the other side of town and the last time I was in Maine I was able to find the graves of my great grandfather and grandmother, George and Nellie Perkins, who died long before I was born. Stacy had never seen them, so I took her by. While we were there we noticed something that we couldn't decide was cool or creepy. Right next to the Perkins family stone was one marked Harris, Stacy's maiden name. I guess we were destined to be together for all eternity past and future after all.
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