Lake Thompson, Maine to Darien, CT

I am up early, around 5:30 and the wireless network, from Trout’s neighbors is down, alas, and I don’t have anything to read nearby without waking up Evie so I guess I will make do with what I have, my computer and word processor, to catch up on yesterday. Because it was a rainy day, we more or less relaxed yesterday afternoon, after our brunch with Hobart, and a walk that Trout and I took to the camp. When we got back from the walk, everyone had gone to take a nap, but Ellery soon awoke, in a bad mood, so everyone was up trying to placate her. Eventually, Christine took her back downstairs to the bedroom, settled her down for about 15 minutes, and brought her back up. We sat around and talked, admired Ellery, and eventually Christine got packed and headed off to Portland, alas, leaving us four adults alone. The last thing Els said was Good by Bob, her nickname for me, and gave me a hug. We decided to go out for dinner, so we took Vic and Trout out to Da Vinci’s Italian restaurant in Auburn/Lewiston, an old mill town about 30 minutes east and a bit north, I think, home of Bates College. The restaurant was in a converted textile mill, and it looks as though they are trying to resurrect the town and mills, by renovating the huge old mill buildings and turning them into offices, shopping areas, and restaurants. I wonder if there will be enough clientel to keep them open, as it’s not really on the Maine tourist hot line. I had a seafood pasta, which was fair, nothing special and Evie had eggplant parm, of which she ate only half. It was nice to see the area of bit, though it was dark, though riding home in Big Red, Trout’s Ford Pickup was a trip, with its narrow backseat cab for the girls, and the twin glass packs mufflers. It felt like we were back in high school. We got home about 9:00 stayed up till about ten, talking about dogs, especially the Trout’s three labs, beautiful dogs and well behaved I might add, though they are like three children, needy for affection, always sticking their nose or snout into your lap to be petted, or face to be nuzzled. They certainly end up being a responsibility but Trout and Vic don’t seem to mind, in fact revel in their dogs antics and affection. They sleep in their bedroom, one on Vic’s feet according to Trout, so they are one big happy family. It is fun to walk the woods with them, as they are so energetic, alive, running ahead, back and forth, grabbing sticks, sometimes all three mouthing the same stick as they run, or two will pick on the third, forcing her in obeyance. When we came back from the walk, we went down to the lake, and threw sticks into the water, as all three dove into the lake, chasing the stick or each other, coming out, shaking off the water, rolling in the sand, then going in again to fetch the stick. Trout certainly has his water dogs, quite a difference from Cassie who was afraid of the water. Trout and I ended up talking politics, agreeing on practically everything, especially the fact that everything was screwed up, with seemingly no hope in sight, a result mostly of the Republicans concerted effort to fight anything proposed by Obama, as well as his mindset that thought he could work with them for the betterment of the country. I think he is beginning to see how impossible that is, that his ability to work on an accommodation, something he has excelled at all his life, in various arenas, from the streets of Chicago, to Harvard Law, have met their match with the Republicans. One wonders if they truly do love their country, if they are so adamant in their refusal to jump on board ‘anything’ Obama proposes, though it may not be in agreement with their program, of enriching the white elites, and keeping down the poor. Trout mentioned a writer of thrillers named Lee Childs, so I will have to look him up in the local library, as I am sure he has written many novels, around his major hero, a kind of roustabout whose name I forget.