My last couple days in Maine were full and enjoyable ones for the most part. Until the ride home...but I'll get to that.
Tuesday was absolutely glorious in terms of weather. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, turning the lake into a dappled sparkly sheet of saphire. There was a good wind blowing preventing the air from settling and becoming opressive, but not so harsh that it blew things about or made boating inconvenient.
There was biking (involving very little speed but lots of beauty in the form of trees and rivers and a baby deer that bounded past) There was floating in a little rubber raft that is the most comfortable object in the world and finishing of a bad book (not to mention sunburn.)
There was some irritating hearing my mother and some other person talk about various things while I was helpless in my little raft...but that wasn't too horrible.
Then we went to dinner at a very nice restaurant with the same old people we spent time with the first night. There was great conversation, INCREDIBLE lobster, and a maple creme brulee that could make you appreciate at least ONE thing that the French invented. I really enjoyed talking to Julian and the others one more time, and I held my own pretty well. The check came to $239 which wasn't bad for the food we had and we left a big tip because we thought we'd made the waitress uncomfortable with our table's consensus that religion is an elegant crock of shit.
It took me 15 minutes to convince Julian of the elegant part.
Wednesday the sun was even brighter and the lake was unbelievable, still, warm, inviting, and mocking. I managed to get some kayaking and swimming in before we had to leave but it's still kind of irritating that on THE most beautiful day there we had to pack up and head back to the city, where neither of us wants to be.
Of course during the packing my mother exploded at me out of anxiety insisting that I had misplaced the bread knife. I finally found it out on the porch where she had put it, but that's to be expected.
The ride back started out well. We finished the Spenser for hire book, saw a mother and baby moose on the road, and made great time. We also started the John Grisham book which moved so slowly that more than half way through it barely feels like it started. The Summons is the name of it. If you ever want to read a book that perfectly recreates the experience of watching paint dry...I recommend it.
Naturally the trip couldn't stay peaceful for long and eventually my mother exploded again when she discovered that I had led us astray in my navegation. I was called all manner of names and a massive fight broke out where she threatened to kill us both and I offered to leap from the car. Nothing new I'm afraid. The fight finally abated when we arrived at the junction I'd claimed was the right one and she'd insisted was all wrong only to find that...of course it was the right junction. There were apologies and that crap but it's nothing new. I hate the dynamic I have with my mother...it puts the dis in dysfunctional.
The rest of the ride was nothing special...just an anxious irritating trip home. We did pick up the cat though...so that was good.
Overall I enjoyed my time in Maine...it was enjoyable and relaxing only marred by my continually strained relationship with my mom. It's never going to work and I've accepted that...but it's still annoying when things blow up as they do from time to time, usually over some inconsequential thing that is almost immediatly forgotton.
I have more to say but it's late and I should get some shut eye because I have a lot of chores to get done so I'll leave the rest of it for tomorrow.
Yeah, I know that nobody cares, but it's not good form to just stop as if there was