Reeds in the Wind

Friday, July 30, 2010

The sun has risen directly over Monhegan and the sky is crystal clear with only a few hazy clouds to the east.  The temperature has dropped and it promises to be another drop dead gorgeous day here on Seguin.

The Reeds arrived yesterday on Captain DeBery’s 11AM boat with many other visitors, families, children, grandmothers, some of whom got left behind because of the strange clock in the museum that seems to be operated by the ghosts of Seguin and spun around at will to tell no particular time at all every time you look at it.  And it’s plugged in!  I changed it once thinking it looked like the right amount of lost hours due to the power outage last week.  Since then it’s become a bit of a joke, it’s so unreliable.  We should just tell people it’s part of the display and leave it at that.

There was a lot of activity since the Reeds arrived with everyone else, getting their stuff up on the tram while France showed them their quarters.  No one cared.  Families picnicked and hiked trails and once the Reeds were settled, tours began of the tower and lens and the museum filled with kids and adults perusing the exhibit and playing checkers and shopping for tee shirts.  I sold my first passport today.  A couple said this was their first lighthouse and they planned to see many so I told them they had to have a passport which you can get stamped at every lighthouse you visit.  They were thrilled.

While France played hostess to the family in the Cove that got left behind because of the clock and supposedly Captain DeBery’s first mates missed head count, I mowed grass with a vengeance.  The wind picked up and most of the lawn ended up in my eyes and over every inch of my body.  Something’s wrong with the push mower:  the wheels don’t seem to turn and I can barely push it up the hill anymore.  There’s a photo inside the Caretaker’s quarters in the hall showing one of the previous caretakers trying to push the mower up a wall of ivy.  Now I get it.  When it was finally over, the Reeds (Mary and James) invited us to join them and their kids Erik and Jessica for grilled shrimp dinner.  What could be nicer after a hard day, than not to cook.

Except that the wind had picked up even more and lighting the grill became a challenge.  The meal outside at the picnic table couldn’t have been more perfect.  I sat the other side of France across from Erik and was fortunate to be downwind.  More salad greens flew my way onto my plate or in close proximity, I didn’t even have to go for seconds.  Erik tossed what came his way into the grass but I ate every bit.  James got a real kick out of it because every time he tried to serve himself or take a bite it would fly to France and to me.  You can see in the photo just how strong the wind was by the towel “hanging” horizontal on the cloths line in the background.  We finished just as the sun set behind Mount Washington and I invited the guests to participate in lowering and folding the flag which I added to the video I’m preparing for a week from tomorrow.

I wish I had a PowerPoint guru here for the next week.  August 7 is the Summer Fest for FOSI, this year to be held at the Maritime Museum in Bath, and France and I are to give a presentation about life on Seguin.  Because of my background in filmmaking, I think folks are expecting a Hollywood style presentation.  Truth is, I haven’t done any editing since grad school and that was “old school” if you catch my drift.  PowerPoint, including things from i-movie and i-photo are supposed to be so simple a kid could do it.  I’m starting to think only kids can do it.  And then France and I have to agree on content, which could turn into the kind of philosophical discussion that lasts a lifetime.  Advise from experts in the field will be welcome.

Meanwhile, after the flag was lowered and folded after a fashion, Erik tried to run his sister up the flagpole by hooking the back belt loop of her shorts to the rope, and hosting her aloft.  Luke ran around not knowing what to make of it all.  Finally someone opened the door for him and he seemed much happier just to lie on the floor in the museum for a while.

Mary had brought pie and we sat on the front porch shielded from the wind, sharing stories and desert.  I couldn’t get enough of the Jordan chardonnay James had brought; I was the only one drinking white and I haven’t seen a bottle of Jordan anything in a long time.  He finally gave me what was left for which I am very grateful.

The muffins are made, the Reeds are awake, the Coast Guard arrives today and we’re ready.  Is she really microwaving fresh baked muffins?  Oh well, as my grandfather used to say:  t’each his own.

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