After navigating two European airports including the above-mentioned Chas. De G. in Paris, on our way to and from the 330-foot-long, skinny cruise ship we first found tied up at the dock in Basel, Switzerland, Don and I have come home. We’ve gained.
Summer days start for me at sunrise on Lincolnville Beach, emptying the trash barrels, picking up butts, putting the place back in order for the day. It’s a job I love, and it turns out, so does my upstairs D-I-L, who took it over last year while I.
Geology 101 opened my eyes. A childhood spent in a Chicago suburb didn’t spark a lot of curiosity about the world under my feet. The streets were predictably gridded, the trees that lined them were evenly spaced, the lawns were mowed and flat, oh so.