the pine jungle

The world has gone to the dogs, that'd be Gideon, Etta and "the pincushion" formerly known as Gracie. Each and every waking moment seems to tend to their needs, I have to keep them tied up, walk them and find some material, possibly not of this earth- that Gideon can't chew through. She even dismantles chains. These dogs came from a farm on a dead end road with acres upon acres to roam free, to dig up possums and chase coons, to wander aimlessly at will. But Maine changed their outlook, their free wheeling ways, their tender puppy naivete...

On a bad day, Maine is pretty. On a good day, Maine is beautiful. On a beautiful day, Maine is mind bending. On a day like Saturday- Maine is Maine, not to be taken for granted; ask the kayaker who started out on a mirror calm lake trip when suddenly, the weather changed and white caps flapped and flipped the little vessel, leaving the kayaker to tend with a Nor Easter... (Or as I like to call them: Nor east, nor west, nor south, nor north-STAY PUT!)

Or ask the motorist powering down Highway 9- lakes abundant, pine trees proudly standing thick amongst the moss covered loam or staunchly straddling ravines and rocky edges, the smell is of a pristine quality, the sights a most nourishing eye candy when suddenly, out of no where comes a beast who takes up half the road just by simply stepping from the timber to black top, in one single stride. Twisted metal and steel, broken glass and bones lay in a heap as the Moose glides as if a ghost, back into the pine jungle- while the motorist tries to piece together how a locomotive simply ran him over, out of no where it came with no warning, no cross road alarms, nothing to prepare him for the derailment.

Ask the new greenhorn, the farmer- the adventurer who throws caution to the wind, laughs at danger and spits in the eye of certain border crossers who are about thee most rudest, inconsiderate beings I have ever had to share the atmosphere with. Yes, just ask me about futile situations- why I can outrun the best, out jump the rest and crawl like a centipede when necessary by golly. But throw a porcupine in there, a walking-garbage-extracting-pin-cushion-pig and my friends, you can call me whipped. Porcupines are the original terminators, demolition devils, rooting sapsuckers and fortified with quills of mass destruction. How the heck you gonna make friendly with something like that?!

You don't. You quiet yourself and your pet while in their vicinity, which by the way- is anywhere they choose to be. And did you know they climb trees?! UH_HUH!! And did you know that ignorant labs such as Gracie can also climb trees?! ME EITHER!!!! Guess what happens when a porcupine and a pup like Gracie share the same branch? A whole lot of piercing going on....

Yep, Miss Grace has become an acupuncturists dream- why! she's got piercings fiercer than any punk rebel could ever even dream of! Nose ring? Please....Lip pierced?...you're wasting my time! Nipple posts? Now you're just making me sleepy... Miss Grace's got piercings where no quill should ever go. Heck, she even swallowed a few...'cept for the ones that caught in her throat, stuck out of her tongue and gums and caused her mouth to be propped open on the 3 hour drive to the emergency clinic for such wayward, unanticipated porcupine/dog encounters.

Fun, fun, fun here in Maine...my utmost respect, dear Maine. Please, please, please I pray- let me see the Moose a half mile before I need to, and please I pray- lead my Kayak away from temptation and tidal waves, but mostly dear Maine, I plead...deliver me and mine a remote wireless fence that might in time, contain my "girls" and perhaps, if it's not too much to ask- give me the million dollar question answered-

How the heck do you repel a porcupine???

Never wanted to make a million dollars before(- if I did, I'd just have to find all kinds of wonderful ways to give it away), but perhaps if I put my noggin' to the grind stone and came up with a sure way to piss off the porcupine into oblivion, I do believe I might be living in that house on the hill at Pocomoonshine.

Take care out there!

and the soup.

Good morning!

My journey was a looooonnnnggg one...traveling with two giddy Labs and one little nervous terrier made for many stops, pee breaks and wrestling Gideon to the ground when she slipped her collar somewhere in upstate New York and tried to make a break for it, midst semis and oncoming traffic. Then in Oneida, an Indian woman who had a fight with her husband, decided it best to spend the night in the hotel parking lot, next to my pickup- with her jalopy running at full throttle sans a muffler. "Let the howling begin"- (Gracie woofed to Gideon), and so the police were called and I was almost evicted because my dogs were causing a ruckus. I explained to the authorities that perhaps if the non-paying guest would just shut her vehicle down and stop raising hell, all would be well. Thank goodness, that is what eventually happened. Peacefully finally at rest, the girls laid back down in their camper home and slept....ahhhhh, as did I.

One other incident bears recalling...Lake Eerie, it's blue boldness all along the turnpike- called to me, "Get off the turnpike, come to the water's edge, you must!" And so I did. For about two hours I exited via Route 5, all along the long lake's shoreline and exclaimed silently to myself-"This is utterly beautiful and vast, like the ocean! Somewhere I will stop and let these girls look at a real lake!"
The girls, Gideon and Gracie- did not find the enormity of the lake and white capped waves comforting. Matter of fact- they were terrified and would not dare step hide nor hair of their great paws into the watery edge. Miss Etta on the other hand- chased the tide, in and out- snapping and barking gleefully with her new found friend, Lake Eerie. Oh, and I stopped in a little hub for lunch and enjoyed thee most delectable soup my taste buds ever had the glorious pleasure to encounter- a steaming bowl of Butternut Squash with apples soup. My oh my, heaven in a bowl. The waitress, who must have had long days and little appreciation for her toll tending to customers- was dry at first, muffled almost. But! I found a crack in her solemn shell, and out came the sweetest soul thus far I had encountered on my trip. I remember she had a long red braid falling just to the center of her back and loose, untamed hairs tucked behind her ears in such a way that seemed as if she might not be able tolerate one more wild hair, with the exception of her newest customer...me. She and I talked, me mostly...but the questions I asked her were just enough to get her juices flowing, oh how she melted. To be appreciated, I do believe- was a gift she had not encountered yet that day. I left her a tip, a simple act to show that one good egg might make up for all the hard boiled others in her day- and this sweetheart came out to my truck and actually tried to give it back to me. She said it was too much- I smiled and said it was my joy, that she was kind, that I had been traveling a great deal and her kindness had made my day, well that, and the soup. We both laughed, wishing each other well.

This morning found me waiting on the thin red line to appear over the Pocomoonshine mountain, the Big Fish said that is how the sun rises here...in North East Maine, right over the rail of my deck...in Maine. I live...in Maine. I drive...in Maine and exclaim to myself, no longer silently but triumphantly...I Live In Maine! To think that after all this time of longing and loving a little farm for 18 years, that I might find love again...in the land, in the journey. Oh I have...oh I do...I want to live friends...here in Maine- living is large and lovely and magnificent and wonder-full.

More on the journey...when I get my laptop hooked up. I'm sitting in on the BF's computer...and may I add that the Big Fish greeted me with a sign hung proudly and prominently off the second story of his home, big as a bed sheet, painted with love. Can you imagine? Now I know why that sweet red haired lady cracked open...love and appreciation kind of wraps you up and gets you glowing and warm like a flame in a wood burner. Speaking of wood....off to split some.

Take care-