So far, out of the 10 or so drives we have made up to Maine for the summer, Monday’s journey was by far the best. We didn’t get into any traffic jams, it didn’t rain until we stopped for dinner just over the Maine state line, and I didn’t wreck the car. The children were all very good, sleeping off and on during the trip, which is understandable considering we pulled away from the Virginia house at 5am. We finally pulled into our driveway at about 9pm, having made such good time that en route we decided to cancel our hotel reservations in Massachusetts. Of course, once we arrived, the boys had to haul enough stuff inside to make it through the night and I had to make the beds before we could hit the hay.
Since then we have very full days bringing everything on the farm up to functional use, Tim mowed the edges of the fields all day on Tuesday so we can take walks and I started hoeing the garden so I could get my veggies planted. After a couple hours of mowing, Will started dismantling his old tree house and began building another in a huge oak tree near the garden.
Today I hoed some more and several children helped plant tomatoes and squash and many different seeds. Charlie and I worked on the woodland trail, but the mosquitoes and deer flies were too much for us to take, even with plenty of bug spray applied beforehand.
After only two days my back hurts, my hair is yanked back into an unfashionable ponytail, and my feet look like I’ve been down in a coal mine despite all my scrubbing. But I’m as happy as a clam being among the fields and flowers, the wild turkeys (2 enormous toms serenaded me this morning at 5:30), and the woods. I really can’t believe how blessed I am to be able to spend our summers in such a quiet and lovely place. The sign on interstate 95 is so true: “Maine, the Way Life Should Be.”