Cousin Time

One of the best things about heading East for the summer from San Francisco -- or West in our case from Paris -- is the chance to see cousins of all generations. Precious!

 

Some cousins come from far. This is Pippa and her cousin from NYC who is 15 days younger, but who gives her hand-me-downs nonetheless. Selfishly, we are quite pleased that both she and her mother have really fantastic taste in clothes and access to all those Manhattan stores...

 

 

Also from NYC, my own first cousin who is 15 days younger than me. Though we're beyond the days of hand-me-downs, she does give me excellent free therapy, being a psychologist and all. It's my annual visit on the couch. Except that we usually do our chatting in a Goodwill store, at a restaurant, or on a nice long walk. I call her my "couster" -- that would be a cousin-sister. And my relationship with her is the perfect proof to me of why childhood cousin time is so important.

 

My couster has kids of similar ages to my own, and they love each other. Here, Pop-pop (my dad, that is) visits his magical endless-stuff garage. Think Mary Poppins' handbag. And he comes up with a spontaneous puppet theater set for their production. The youngest boy is doing his best Spider Man impression. And I have become Spider Man's latest nemesis -- an evildoer named "Freezy Von Waffle" who has the audacity to serve unthawed waffles (but only upon request. Yet still mysteriously considered evil).

 

 

 

Here he is in his beloved car, Blackie. Besides being Spiderman, he is also a budding photographer who takes this excellent photo of his mom and dad; it's a family classic that involves taking pictures of other people taking pictures.

 

 

 

Some cousins are close by (well, once we travel the thousand miles to get to the Boston area, that is). Here the girls and their first cousins on Anthony's side -- Anthony's brother's two kids -- enjoy the last days of summer before heading back to school.

 

 

We've always thought their cousin (the girl without the goggles) could easily pass for Pippa's big sister. DNA strikes again! Here's a photo from four years ago that shows it best:

 

 

And, of course, we spend lots of quality time with my own sister's kids, whom we see a lot of during our trips to Maine. It's still a little bizarre to me that my "little" nephews both stand tall among the men already. Am I that old?

 

 

They are great with their little cousins, who basically use the big boys like jungle gyms whenever possible.

 

  

 

 

My own girls won't be little ones much longer -- wanting their cousins to read them bedtime stories and playing pattycakes.

 

 

 

And how much longer will he be able to pick up Pippa like she herself is the basketball? It's Michael Jordan, with a slight Pippa-sized handicap. Gigi's already too big to cart around while dribbling. But she's not too big to find it absolutely, positively hysterical.

 

 

 

 

Maine in Technicolor

Do not adjust the color on your screen. If you are blinded by technicolor, you're seeing it just as it should be.

 

From Acadia, it's the Moss and the Gloss. (Or should I say, we're Likin' the Lichen!) First we have the girls in their birthday suits -- literally, that is: the bathing suits given to them for their birthdays. And then some beautiful moss/lichen growing on the rocks at the top of Cadillac Mountain.

 

 

 

Up at our rental in Southwest Harbor, it feels like a like a little bit of Nepal has snuck in. The owners have decorated their dock with these gorgeous flags, and I can't help but photographing them -- repeatedly.

 

  

 

Back at Cape Elizabeth, we stop by to see the rock at the entrance to town that is covered with messages, with the police chief's approval. The latest is the gift from a graffiti artist who was staying with my sister's family as an exchange student from France earlier this summer. Besides having special meaning for my sister's family, it's also generally acknowledged to be the best rock ever painted here. Yes, the town is even selling it on a sweatshirt.

 

 

Here's the colorful Cape Elizabeth ice cream stand.  

 

 

 

And the birdhouses the girls paint are planted in Aunt Lisa and Uncle Paul's garden. Lucky birds! 

 

 

And last but not least, a tradition, but one that is so colorful, I had to include it in this posting: picking bouquets at the local flower garden. Besides its physical beauty, what makes it so lovely and quaint is that there's just some scissors and empty vases hanging around, with a pay-by-honor system. Pick what you want and pay what's appropriate! Borrow a vase if you need one, and just bring it back with you the next time! (As opposed to Paris, where my wallet has twice been stolen -- from inside my bag and inside my pocket.) This time at the garden, in addition to my normal two beautiful models, I also have some little creatures that poses for me quite obligingly.

 

 

    

 

It's going to be really noticeable to go from Maine in technicolor, back to Paris in black and white!

 

 

 

Tradition, Tradition!

There are few things in life that are certain. Death. Taxes. And, for us: S'mores and More -- the things we do every summer on our visits to Maine. It's nice that even though our girls have been so peripatetic, they still have these magical summer traditions. So, in addition to the inevitable death and taxes, we have:

S'mores: too big, too sweet, too sticky, too perfect. Every year, one of the girls gets a little in her hair.

 

 

Walking Minnie (a.k.a The World's Best Dog). Greatly coveted. Minnie must be exhausted after our visits because of the near-hourly walks.

 

Belly dancing and a hippie-feminist drum circle with cynical Peter Brady-esque audience member.

 

Arts and crafts: usually it's beading, and we have the necklaces, bracelets, and earrings to prove it. But this year, Aunt Lisa branches out and gives the girls birdhouses to paint.
 

Firecrackers: the teens and grown-ups stand around and let the girls light them all, one after the other. The little pyromaniacs.

 

 

Competitive board gaming. The new board game added into the mix this year is Parcheesi. Bananagrams is a favorite old standby for the grown-ups. This year Gigi plays a round; though she doesn't win, she manages to sneak in the impressive word "trivia". In another landmark, somebody actually beats Pippa at the game of Set. Sam, a 21-year old engineering student, manages to take a game from his 7-year old cousin, and though it is her first-ever Set defeat, she maintains composure. We are proud, proud parents. And Sam is rightfully proud too, having achieved his lifelong goal of dethroning the reigning Set champ. 

 

 

And last, but not least, walking by The Portland Headlight. Does it get any more perfectly Maine than this?!

 

 

 

 

 

The Epic Lobstah

For dinner tonight, we walk down to the lobster shack in Southwest Harbor. The price list says $11.45 for < 1⅜ pound and $12.45 for >1⅜ pound. That seems like a decent price, and not too high since there's a glut of lobster this year. At the stores, we can purchase it retail for $4/lb, so this seems like a fair mark-up.

Well, it always pays to read the fine print. They pick out big lobsters for us and put them on a scale. I assume it's to make sure it's over 1⅜ lb, but it's actually to get the real weight. Three of us order lobsters, and it turns out to be over 10lbs, at $12.45 per pound for the jumbo lobsters. So, instead of a 1.5 lb lobster for $12.45, we have now each bought a 3.4lb lobster for about $42. Live and learn.

 

Anthony, who has grown up eating these creatures, excitedly declares it "the most epic lobster ever!" Sure, people who really know lobster will tell us that the smaller ones are actually sweeter and better, but don't forget: this is a 3.4 pound lobster! It's the lobster that ate New Jersey! Run for your lives: It's Godzilla vs. Megalobsta!

Some prefer the chicken nuggets and fries, instead. Given the creepy-crawly factor, I can hardly blame them.

 

 

  

 

The setting is beautiful, right on the dock where the lobster boats come in. It's buoys and traps and quintessential Maine, right out of a picture postcard. And the lobster? Well, it's epic.