True Vacationland

  An old biblical proverb declares that a prophet hath no honor in his own home.  A minor modern variant surely postulates that a tourist shuns vacations in her own state; until visitors come round and get the wheels rolling, anyway. The last week of July (2017), my three sisters arrived mid-afternoon in a driving rain storm.  We met up at When Pigs Fly, York, ME, to eat pizza then take home five different loaves  of their exceptional bread. We chose chocolate, orange  cranberry,  New York rye, apple cinnamon, and jalapeño olive.   I was having car troubles, so we pulled off at the rest stop between Route 1 and I-95.  A handsome black man  also stopped and offered his assistance to us four old biddies parked  in two aged cars under the dripping pine trees.  Interestingly, his name is Mr. Bible, and he works from Atlanta as a visiting nurse.  He helped me rig my fender and wheelwell back together  with dental floss and a rubber band, which, if you're wondering, did get me home  45 miles away.   That auspicious beginning launched us  to Benny's, Reny's, and Marden's--seafood, "a Maine Adventure,"  and our governor's former employer--among other places.
  A favorite was Temple Heights in Northport, a 19th century Spiritualist camp on a mountain by the sea facing Islesboro, only $45 per room per night and all the peace, healing, and relaxation you can stand.   We indulged ourselves in private readings, group message circles, and making smudge pots  under the auspices of two very competent mediums (media? I never know the correct plural in this odd case!).  One sister discovered a past life as Sarah Ruth McAllister, a missionary's daughter  who married into the Ojibways along the Dakato/Canada border in he early 1800's.  I, sorry to say, had been hanged  for something I didn't do as a slave somewhere in time.  My other sisters were waiting respectively for "William" or "Williams" and "Thomas" to enter their lives.   Sure enough, L's best friend is a Williams, and Shertle  started reading Thomas Merton to her delight when we returned home!  Besides our psychics, the Nickawa Lodge staff deserves mention for their kindness and friendliness.  And they all recommended The Whale's Tooth restaurant in Lincolnville for dinner,  where Shertle sampled her "Best Meal Ever!"--scallops and 'shrooms over linguine with a side of puréed butternut squash.  How did I miss that place when my son brought us all to Point Lookout cabins/resort in 2011?  No staff suggestions, presumably.  Whereas. it was Matt, our Temple Heights manager, who also recommended Bar Harbor over Boothbay for our whale watch adventure Sunday. And you can read how great THAT was on my other blog, Sandy's Shift.  Maybe, though, the proof is in the pictures.