Later that evening, as I kept Pen company in the bathroom, she turned to me and said, “You and daddy are such frustrating babies!”
For that back-to-school scourge, hand, foot and mouth disease, has broken out in the midcoast, and that includes North Haven. My three-year-old hasn’t escaped.
Planet Earth is a difficult place to be right now. Our place names – Charlottesville, Mumbai, Mexico City, Houston, Barbuda, Yemen, Syria, Mosul – conjure up devastation, whether human-made or nature’s wrath, and there’s not an end in sight. We seem ever more fragmented into microscopic factions. Maybe that’s why extraterrestrial goings-on are all the more appealing.
We’re piloting a program this year to welcome high school students from the mainland, or from other island communities, to our school to take advantage of our tiny student to teacher ratios, hands-on and experiential programs, arts offerings, and supportive environment…We have room for up to three more students! Ask me how!
Finally, I forgot to be afraid. My body in the water needed my attention as seaweed tugged at my limbs and salt sprayed my eyes. When we made it back to the beach, I was tired and chilled, too tired to be afraid anymore.
Hello from North Haven! I’ve mentioned in previous posts how much I love to paddleboard on Maine’s lakes and even in the ocean. I’ve even converted a few dubious friends with my zeal. Stand up paddleboarding (commonly abbreviated as SUP, pronounced ‘sup?) is a good core and upper body workout, but even better, it’s a […]
But each July, the oregano makes a very convincing argument to let it be. As summer starts to tip over towards back to school, the oregano starts to bloom, little compound clusters of purple covering the immense herb bush. And with those purple flowers come an incredible diversity of pollinators.
And so, that first summer, wondering whether outing ourselves as weirdos would earn us a one-way ticket back to the mainland, we donned leotards and wigs, spray-painted water pistols gold, teetered around on platform heels…
Dining out with a toddler can be hard. Let me rephrase that: dining out with a toddler is like dining with an alarm clock, set to an unknown hour, with a centrifuge that activates to fling food in a maximal radius when it goes off.
All right, kid. If you’re chill on stage with us, there’s a little bag of gummy bears in it for you.”
That’s right. Extrinsic motivation for the win, again.