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Crofton, MD, 21114

A long-running personal blog shared by two authors with completely different approaches to life. And a lot of large, beautiful photographs of dogs and nature and places we've traveled to. Rich in commentary and irreverant in style. 


We started blogging a long time ago. Our work hours never aligned with recommended psychotherapists and we needed to get our thoughts out. We are great friends, total opposites and long-time housemates. This was a way to communicate. With each other. With strangers. With consumer marketers. With sub-par meteorologists. With distant friends who wanted to see pictures of stuff we were up to.

This is the place. Our bucket of thoughts to share. You are welcome. 
(We realize that most of you are here for the dog pictures.)

Truck Boat Truck Boat Wine


We took the 8:45 am Ferry out to the island. It was uneventful except for the guy on the dock who sang loud Rap songs to (seemingly) himself. He was kind awesome, to be honest. We had a lot of luggage. I was dreading the look of disdain on my Uncle's face when he saw us. He doesn't like us anyways - but I hate to give him valid reasons to be that way. He must have been tipped off to the luggage story earlier because he didn't even make eye contact about it. Just heaved the 4 coffins in to the back of the Jeep and we all moved on. (suspicious.)

We drove out to the house listening to him talk about island news, boats that had been through the thoroughfare and guests that had been up to the house over the previous 4 weeks. Once we arrived we lugged our stuff up the stairs. Hands on hips. Sighed heavily and looked around.

And then got back in to the Jeep to go back in to town to get groceries. Since Shorty is too young to have a cell phone I bought a set of overpriced walkie talkies for the trip so that he could communicate things to me like "HELP! I'm being chased by a wild animal!" To which I could respond "Where the HELL are you??" over the walkie talkie.  And either he would already be dead or he would radio back "I have NO IDEA where I am!!! But come quick!!!" And at this point I would just look at the device with regret, wondering if they had a model that was even MORE expensive that had point-to-point GPS navigation, that I should have gotten. #Regret

Well, I could hear the kid just fine in town and it didn't take radio communicators to guess that he went immediately to get an ice cream. We loaded the ridiculous amount of booze, crackers, port wine cheese and marshmallow fluff into the Jeep and headed back across the island. Again.

Back at the house a decision had been made that we should make 100 sandwiches and set off for a boat ride to Camden. I tried not to reflect on the fact that we had just spent the last 7 hours trying to get on to the island and now we were heading back to the mainland *for fun.* 

It was truly a glorious day for a boat ride, though. I am 978 years old and I use the word glorious.(Note that none of the photos I posted were color corrected in any way. That's the real deal blue sky.) We went to Camden to see if a race was on, but we saw no sign of it. Then we went back across to Pulpit Harbor where mentally insane people were participating in Couples Paddleboarding. I believe there was a rule that all the ladies had to wear string bikini's for the event. Which they did. And I shivered as I thought of them falling into the 65 degree water after a teenager's wake had upset their boards. After that we toured the massive coastal homes around the topside of North Haven Island. 

"That house was built last year. Normally a house like that would go for around $400 a square foot in Marblehead, but if you add on the expense of constructing it on the island - then you'd have to double that cost or more. And that house is about 30,000 feet I'd guess. And they aren't even here that much. Not but a month or two a year."

It really begged the question of what their primary residence would be like. As I looked out on to the estate I considered how this diminished the significance of my new LL Bean bag purchase.

We wove our way in and around small islands to the north guided by porpoise jumping in our bow spray. My uncle's dog barked at the last few paddleboparding couples still afloat and I tried to resist the urge to not use the line poker to knock them over. Just before we pulled up to our mooring at the house we saw a girl capsize in her regatta. She was very quick about righting the boat as I would suspect cold fucking water like that would be all the inspiration you'd need.  

My Uncle called out to her "How's the water? Cold enough for ya?"  She turned and gave us a look that caused me to pee in my pants a little. She looked borderline demonic. And she was totally going to kill my Uncle in his sleep tonight. Maybe we should moor the boat somewhere else as a decoy until she went ashore. Je-sus! What a look she gave.

Once home we poured life giving glasses of wine and watched the sun set in peaches and rose colors over the Camden Hills.