The Dynamic Duo

We stopped in town for a little mid-morning bagel and drink, picked up some travel brochures, and planned our next move. As we headed in the general direction of Bangor, Sara came up with a great idea. “I hear the sunrises are fantastic in Acadia National Park,” she said. Sounded good to us, and it was right next to the town of Bar Harbor, a great place for tourists like us. Using Debi’s cell phone, Sara leafed through the brochures and started calling quaint little motels and inns for availability and price. “No vacancy”, “Too expensive”, until she finally reached one with possibilities: Edgewater Cabins, some right on Frenchman’s Bay. Edgewater Cabins At this point, Sara tactfully informed us that we needed two bedrooms. “I’m not sleeping with you two any more,” she announced. “Mom, you moan in your sleep and Aunt Kathy snores.”
“Did you notice me moaning?” Debi asked me innocently.
“Well, only a bit,” I replied, “but it didn’t keep me awake. How about me snoring?”
“A little,” she admitted, “but hardly enough to mention.”
Now, I have to admit that this didn’t come as a complete surprise to me, though it’s not a habit I like to own up to. But this is the “Tell All, No Holds Barred, Complete Ultramom Experience” so if you can’t take this dispelling of UltraMom, vision of perfection, you’d better stop reading right now. I recall a time when I was, as a mother-helper, accompanying my son, Jim and his classmates on a school fieldtrip. On the return trip, I got a little dozy, and was jarred awake by a sudden jolt of the bus. “Gee Mom,” enthusiastically said my 7 yr old son, who was my seatmate, “you were really snoring! Everyone was turning around to look at you!” I tried to slide under the bus seat while whispering, “Why didn’t you wake Mommy up, Honey?” “Well, you were sleeping so good!” he announced. “If that happens again, just give Mommy a little shake, ok?” Another time, not too long ago, we were at a family wedding in Utah, and, as we had been wont to do during vacations, UltraDad and I shared one queen-sized bed, and Jim and Johnny shared the other. I awoke the next morning to find Johnny missing and a note on the bathroom door, DO NOT DISTURB. When he finally emerged from the bathroom, after we had all meekly crept downstairs to use the facilities, he blearily informed us that he had forgotten his earplugs, and none of the service stations within walking distance, open at 12:00 at night, sold them. Apparently, both UltraDad and I had been snoring with great gusto. Jim can pretty much sleep through anything, but Johnny has always been a delicate little chap.
Now, I don’t think Debi has any stories as good as these to tell, but I do know that she was not unaware of her unusual habit of emitting haunting moaning sounds while in the deepest of sleep. In any case, Sara got her separate bedrooms, and we rented, for two nights, the lower floor of a perfectly lovely cottage, right on the bay, complete with kitchen, fireplace, TV and living room, porch, a king-sized bed in the sitting room, and a queen-sized one in a separate bedroom. I believe some elephants who were inclined to stay up late and get up very early were on the floor above us. As Debi and I preferred not to sleep in the large, open area, we shared the queen sized bed and Sara had the king sized to herself.

Our cabin on the bay

We asked the friendly proprietor to recommend an eating establishment, and, without hesitation he recommended “The Chatroom”. “The Chatroom?” we repeated. “No, the Chatroom.” Finally we asked him to spell it: C-H-A-R-T-R-O-O-M. We heard the restaurant mentioned several more times during our stay, and the locals always pronounced it the same way. We had an option to be seated in an enclosed outdoor area where we could have a view of the bay. We took it, but it was too dark to see the ocean, and Debi kept getting dripped on. We each had a salad, and each a different kind of soup. OK, here’s your logic problem. The writer of this column did NOT have the onion soup. The youngest member of the group had the clam chowder. Lobster Bisque was the other type of soup ordered. So, how many were going to St. Ives? We also shared an order of steamer clams, but they were pretty awful, so we drowned our taste buds in dessert. I had to ask the waitress 3 times for more water, and on the whole, we were not impressed.
Back in our room, it was time for baseball. Sara, and especially Debi, are big baseball fans, and I enjoy it if I’m watching it if I’m with others who do. The funny thing was that each night it was on, I was usually the only one awake to see the end of the game, which often involved some spectacular or controversial plays.
It was Sara’s job to awaken us in time to see the promised spectacular sunrise. Did you know that Acadia Park is the first place in the United States to see the sun rise? It only beats a couple of other places in Maine by 15 seconds or so, but first is first. When we awoke and the clock said 7:00, I knew we had missed it. But Sara assured us that it had been too cloudy and rainy to see it anyway, and judging by the current sky, I was inclined to believe her. Having had my bath the previous evening, I went exploring around the bay while my cabinmates got ready. It was amazing to think that I was seeing the Atlantic Ocean. I saw some lobster traps piled up near some boats a little way along. Later I read a story (local folklore?) about a woman who was really concerned about her friend moving to Maine. She had read that a lot of people had lobster traps, and wanted to know if it was true that the lobsters were so thick that they came right into people’s houses and they had to set traps for them. Funny, huh?

To be continued………….(probably forever)