On one side of Kathy's garden sits my chair amid a wide assortment of flowers. She always plants a few pansies so there is at least flower I can identify.
The other side contains enough green beans, tomatoes, snow peas, cucumbers, and more, to keep us well fed from the middle of summer until early fall. And Kathy always prepares a couple dozen jars of tomatoes as well.
On this particular day, when a ride seemed unrealistic early in the day, I actually got in a quick jaunt north. Pleasant Mountain in Bridgton is one of Maine's most popular ski resorts in the afternoon.
I haven't skied here - or anywhere - since the day in the late '60s, when, to impress a girl named Betsy, I, well, let's just say I tried to ski above my ability.
After running into and over the lovely Betsy, I found myself unable to stop, so I too quickly and very unsteadily continued to the ski lodge.
The next day at school, I discovered that I would most certainly never have a date with Betsy, because, as the story was told, "the fool ran up the back of my skis, rolled over me, steamrolled me into the snow - then left me there to die!"
Moving on - say, isn't this a pretty lake. It's Moose Pond, at the foot of (un)Pleasant Mountain
Kayaking has become extremely popular lately. Time says that the sport has grown from 3.5 million to 8 million kayakers in just ten years. It kooks like fun - but that's what I thought about skiing once upon a time.