Category: Adventure

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Belfast, Specialty Candy, and Mrs. Mike

Belfast is intricately bricked history sloping toward sea. Their beautifully aged patina pulled us toward them, and the walk from uptown and through the architectural beauty of both former banks and masonic temples felt like a short stroll.

A former brick mason and a woman–coupled with a new interest in history and a former love of art and architecture–made Belfast a sure fit for another quaint harbourside town adventure.

Aren’t they just lovely?! It takes no imagination to see a couple strolling past these carefully laid brick buildings. She’s in a gown that’s length is gently dragging behind her and he’s wearing tails and a top hat….it’s 1799 after all. Truly, the building opposite of the former masonic temple above was built in that long-gone era.

This. All of these beautiful towns have a uniquely beautiful harbor and town green after following the slope downward to the open sea.

We followed the shoreline under rocks left bare by low tide to see the boat’s view of Belfast’s Millionaire Row homes and speculated whether or not they were owners of “old money”.

We started uptown in search of beef or pork or anything not-seafood. At the top of town, the beef hungry man got up the nerve to ask a native that looked like he enjoyed burgers for a recommendation. Down at the harbor. The search for “real meat” was enthusiastic enough to turn a man who likes only to do loops (so the steps don’t need to be retraced) to retrace his steps for this manly, meaty, monstrous….

Beef burger with bacon. Win-win. He was so happy, he shared a bite.

I asked him. I would’ve given him the very best bite of my amazing beet salad with mandarins, goat cheese, and walnuts. He said no. I wasn’t sure what to do except enjoy every bite myself. So I did.

I finally started a book, curled up with a cup of Earl Grey in the modern attic suite in this sweet 1890s Airbnb carriage house in uptown Belfast. Mrs. Mike had me laughing out loud within the first few pages…

And there she was squeezing lemon into the hot water, and there he was stirring it around. Shouldn’t someone mention that there was no tea in it, or was that impolite?”And you, Katherine Mary, how do you like yours?” With tea, I almost said. But I was glad I didn’t, she enjoyed entertaining us so much. “I’d like sugar,” I said……and, holy St. Patrick, there’s nothing worse tasting than hot water with two teaspoons of sugar in it.

Maybe it’s just me. If that doesn’t do anything for you, I feel sorry. Though it may be me I should feel sorry for: it’s been much too long since I’ve read a book simply for pleasure because I’m giggling about it again now just thinking about it.

Back downtown to the Chocolate Drop Candy Shoppe for a malted milkshake and a cone, every adult’s glimpse of the childhood soda shop dream that was actually reality. SO good. I think we were hungry. And thinking of candy, I was asked if the Airbnb’s have specialty candy they put out for guests. Nope, I had answered, just Reese’s and Dove chocolates that I put in a bowl at the lakehouse and now again at this location. The man cracks me up.

And with ice cream in hand, happy as kids, we walked down to the harbor to see the magical way the sun turns water into gleaming, rippled glass. Sun setting over water is something I will never tire of. I decided today I want to grow old beside a body of water. I’ll need to start researching how to become part of this abundance of old money if I want more than a pond.



Coming up….a tour of the carriage house studio apartment and a ferry ride from Lincolnville to Isleborough, a little island only reachable by boat with the summer homes of Kirstie Alley and John Travolta. And, a sweet lighthouse.

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Lake House Goodbyes and Bar Harbor

My last cup of coffee was spent drinking in this scene before packing up and heading out to Bar Harbor. A loon popped out of the water close to the dock as if to say goodbye. I tried to memorize the gentle sounds of the water sloshing the rocks and the gentle movement of the dock. There may have been a tiny tear left there, but I have a sketch of the scene that will hopefully be a watercolor souvenir of that sacred place.

Whether boating, kayaking, or just being close to water, I feel like moving water leaves a cathartic-type impression and I think I understand the draw more than ever. We were incredibly fortunate to reserve this waterfront cottage for our first experience as Airbnb(ers) because we needed only nights and this darling cottage with the private deck was breathtakingly perfect and available for only those two nights! We were inspired by the hosts who are living a dream by living at the main lakehouse during the summer and renting out several cottages on the idyllic waterfront property.

Portland had the artsy, trendy vibe I loved. Acadia had the breathtakingly rugged views. Bar Harbor had an air of wealth. Common and loved in each of these is the rich history. I yawned through history lessons and only memorized dates to pass tests, but now. Now is different.

The yacht (behind the man that always seeks out the town green) was privately purchased for seven million. Time For Us was a gift of dedication to the woman of his dreams after much sacrifice to his workaholic lifestyle that eventually contributed to his wealth. After almost losing this rare jewel of a woman, he presented her with the yacht he had named Time For Us, after realizing that his greatest desired wealth in life was his time spent with her. He committed to sailing six months out of the year with her to various homes along the coast of the New England states.

Well, that was the story I told the man sitting beside me on the green. It could have belonged to the couple I walked past that was mid-vow in wedding attire in front of this grand, historic Bar Harbor Inn.

If you were wondering why I was on a semi-private path in front of an inn that we neither staying or dining at, it’s because I saw a beautiful sailboat disappear behind an island. I chased the sailboat around the corners of the property.

I had almost given up hope that the sailboat changed direction, when…..

It appeared. There’s something so right about a sailboat in a coastal town so rich in history!

We bought salted caramel lattes at a little cafe and both realized that another thing we agree on is that coffee isn’t coffee and espresso isn’t espresso unless it’s d-a-r-k. I always say I like my coffee like I like my men–strong and dark. (My man is blond, blue-eyed and relatively white, but he is strong and he knows I like him a lot. 😉 We semi-enjoyed our too-creamy drinks as I once again committed to always asking for light cream whether espresso or coffee.

We sat on another town green until I pointed out a firehouse and then I disappeared into Bar Harbor for window shopping and he returned with a Bar Harbor Fire Co. t-shirt and a job opportunity in our new favorite state. I love it. But, PA is home and my heart lives there.

Bar Harbor. Rich in history. Enchanting.

We drove 15 miles in the opposite direction of our next destination to experience Tracy’s Diner boasted lobster meal. Pretty sure all humans are expected to have a fresh lobster meal when in Maine and this was our first. Owner-caught fresh lobster and local corn with homemade blueberry pie using local berries lived up to the positive reviews….after we learned from the waitress how exactly you eat a lobster. And after the first piece went flying.

Next destination: Belfast

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Hiking Acadia, Sharks, and Maine Turkeys

We have wanderlust, that is true. But this Peachey couple has one member who is directionally challenged and one that is shy about asking for directions. Oh. I was confused for just a moment. They are one and the same. Picnic lunch ready, we found parking in Acadia and were thrilled to find out that we chose the one day OF THE YEAR that there were no park fees in Acadia National Park! Because of the challenged person that is part of us, we took full use of the park busing intending to get to a good starting point of a hike with enough elevation to get some great views of the craggy shoreline with the knowledge that we are picnic hikers.

There are trail mix hikers that wear hiking shoes, know how to draw venom from snake bites, and find it exhilarating to reach the region’s highest possible summit. Picnic hikers want to see breathtaking views and bunny trail constantly and even stop to eat lunch whenever they think the view is picnic worthy. Hmmm. Sounds easy enough to find a great trail except there are 61 square miles and we had a day to get the biggest bang for our buck. Well, it was free so….yeah. Just our biggest bang for free.

A park ranger in the Acadia Gardens gave us a couple of great suggestions when I told him we were looking for a hike with coastal views and we hit Sand Beach (so named because there are few sand beaches in Maine) and found Great Head Trail.

Several weeks earlier my kids and I hiked to the top of Mt Tammany (part of Appalachian Trail with views of The Delaware Water Gap) on a hot July day and there were two great rewarding views–one about a third of the way to the summit and the summit. It was amazing to have constant beautiful views on the way to Great Head. It felt effortless and my companion asked me to pinch him. I did. He didn’t feel it though it made me wonder how much of our life’s pain would be almost unnoticeable if our perspective was constantly focused on the good and the beautiful.

Behind me on the left is Bubble Mountain. That hike would be for the trail mix hikers. The mountain on the right is Cadillac Mountain. It’s a mountain that’s closed to hikers in the spring due to nesting of Paragrine falcons. Obviously, I have kids and those kids watch Wild Kratts. All parents of Wild Kratts watching kids know that paragrine falcons are endangered and have some of the coolest creature powers ever!

We are….Picnic Hikers! To be fair, I had an organic fruit and nut super snack. To be honest, I feel like balance is important and had a Reese’s after that.

I was getting a great tour guide lesson on the loon’s diving and feeding habits from the hubs as we watched one bird dive and eat a fish whole. It was a little while later that another hiker told us that the cormorants–not loons–loved this fishing spot. I didn’t make a big deal about the bird confusion. It wasn’t like he thought it was a turkey or something. The native pointed out seals and two sharks circling in the waters below and were glad we weren’t among the beach swimmers. We aren’t guided-tour types. It was incredible to see so much wildlife all from our little picnic spot on the rocks.

Sand Beach view on our descent off the rocks. Whether you are a serious or not-so-serious hiker, Great Head Trail views are so gorgeous, I’m not sure you’d even feel a snake bite.

I quietly opened our cottage door to be shushed because of this bird prancing around the cottage woods. “Maybe a Maine turkey or something….” Oddly enough, the turkey looked a lot like a peacock without its fan feathers. I realized I want a pair of peacocks now.

The Chocolate Bomb was a sweet ending to a day of outrageous beauty, bird confusion, and the last sunset we spent at the lake house….

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The Fisherman’s Shack aka The 1920s Camp

Hidden in a wooded area with a lakefront view, our first stay in Maine was what I first thought was at a renovated fisherman’s shack I found on Airbnb. Nope. It was part of The Megunticook Camps. I imagine, if some of these pines could talk, that they would recount stories of many kids squealing as they jumped into the cool lake waters as an escape from the heat sometime between 1906 and 1934!

The inside was much roomier than it looked from the front with an entrance into a living room, a well-equipped kitchen that was perfect for our breakfast before days of exploration, and a cozy bedroom and bathroom.

I fell in love with all the whites and Lake House touches.

wanderlust: n., a desire to explore & travel the world Hmm. I think pillows are much smarter than we think they are. I think the Peachey’s are experiencing some wanderlust.

I mean….who can keep their feet from wandering down to the dock and having coffee when you have serene views like this?! The quiet lapping of the water and tinny sounds of the sail mast being moved by the gentle breeze while sitting Adirondack style was the definition of peaceful solitude.

Our marriage has been far from serene, more like a white water rafting trip than a canoe ride in a placid lake, but I am so grateful to have my best friend, my loyal man, beside me celebrating twenty years together.

I’m glad I still make him “laugh like the Millers” after all these years. His mother was a Miller and they are known for a belly laugh that’s so big it forces you to throw your head back. And no…I can’t tell you what I said that made him laugh. I think the Miller’s would respect that some things are better left unrepeated….however funny.

The sounds of gently lapping water onto the rocks and dock with the occasional haunting call of the loons as the skyline transformed into incredible shades of sunset. Absorbing this tranquil scene together reminded me of how much undeserved favor I feel God constantly heaping upon me. It becomes greater and greater….this mind-blowing evidence that God delights in giving good gifts to His children and that I am one of his beloved.

I am awed.

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Portland and Peachey Celebrations

The jaunty sounds of Footloose, good coffee, the knowledge that our home is (somewhat) ready to be shown and that we have a capable realtor colleague of the Mister’s to relieve us of all the questions and stress involved with selling our home, and that there is a diploma and job waiting for the Paramedic at our return, gives us an otherworldly freedom on the open highway and an excitement for awaiting adventure!

An adventure it is…this life of mine! And I love it. I have everything packed you could need–everything you could want–maybe enough for our family of six instead of two people celebrating that college is finally O-V-E-R. And that we are still married and love each other twenty years after “I do.” Maybe we’re celebrating that it’s taken as much grace from a loving Grace-Giver than what we had imagined, starting with fourth-grade math, two tutors to prepare for entrance exams, and hundreds of pages written full of words of sacrifice to get from Point A to Paramedic Peachey. Whatever we are celebrating, it feels like we are leaving behind hard things that painfully grew us in gratitude, because the amount of blood, sweat, tears, and effort often determine the value we see as the end result. I see gold as we pull onto familiar roads excited to see and experience the unseen and the untraveled. And celebrate that we “Still do.”

We broke up the ten hour trip to Orland, ME with a stopover in Meridan, MA and set out recharged for the last four hours en route to the waterside fisherman’s cottage. We are not true travelers, us Peacheys. We like to get where we are going and explore. But this Peachey can’t know any exciting destinations are not stepped into, so when I saw Portland signs, I grabbed my visitors manuals for Maine, and read about the ancient cobblestone streets in downtown Portland as fast as I could while directing the driver to the street I was furiously asking Siri to help me find. She thought I was saying “mean” and I soon gave up on her understanding I must have some leftover remnant of PA Dutch accent and utilized Google instead. So glad we detoured into some sweet bits of downtown Portland!

By sweet bits, I mean the historic district that was saved from demolition crews and revitalized in the 1970s. Love at first sight. There wasn’t the hurried rush I expected, but a happy air of a crowd enjoying art, history, food, merchandising, and social studies before they found it in textbooks as many would soon head back to school.

The man doesn’t like photos, especially when I ask him to climb atop something that appears shouldn’t be climbed upon. It was just a concrete platform, but he’s a rule follower. Plays it safe. I am too except when it isn’t really a rule and I don’t think it’s terribly unsafe to take a photo with the Maine Lobsterman by climbing on top of a ledge. I love this faithful, cautious man that tempers my wild abandon. Little did he know, he would soon have Starbucks and be as happy as a pigeon.

My heart responded with tachycardia when I saw it. West Elm. (Paramedic Peachey tells me I give him this medical term for rapid heartbeat after twenty years together. Heart in puddle when I read his report on a medical note.) This is where my favorite midcentury modern chair lives. Soft camel-colored leather and slender. graceful arms that are smooth as a baby’s bottom. Someday I’ll show you this chair’s grandmother that I purchased for $5 at a yard sale. Someday when I restore her to her former glory.

This is where we show immense growth in our marriage. We (huuhhuuumm……I mean me) don’t have to be arms linked 24/7 anymore to enjoy ourselves to the fullest. Nope. Expectations change and I sure am glad I didn’t pull him into all that household eye candy. I directed him to a Starbucks in a fabulous historic building I spotted two blocks over. I was a first-time visitor, and after spotting gorgeous pottery mugs for $1.99, I grabbed a few (or more) and headed for the back. Clearance, of course. I picked up some oversize palm fronds that will grace a corner of my future midcentury modern farmhouse. Also for a mere $1.99. What fabulous luck was shining over me?!

I found him keeping company with the pigeons in the town square. Some of those pigeons looked like they might know that Portland is one of the most popular foodie destinations. They might have overdone it. Happy as a pigeon.

Pigeon Watcher was also watching this blacksmith. Blacksmithing is a truly incredible trade, and as in most forms of artistry, the prices for the pieces for sale were symbolic of an unappreciated trade.

My large, awkward palm fronds…walking happily with me across the incredible Wharf Street, inlaid with cobbled stones reminiscent of a long-gone era that I often wish I could travel back to. Just for a few days. Then back to West Elm era.

No wonder Portland attracts a Cafe-loving hipster group of visitors. I have never seen so many sweet eating spots within a few blocks of each other.

Next stop….a waterfront fisherman’s cottage and a view worth twenty years of waiting.

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