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.
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.
She was afraid to ask me the question. Or maybe she didn’t really want to hear the truth. I had already explained the reasons behind my decision, but it wasn’t good enough for her. Continue reading “Am I Judgmental or Are You Too Sensitive?”
I have never witnessed so much disdain, disgust, and hatred for the Christian church as I have in the past couple of years. Have you noticed it too? Maybe it’s because I’m reading comments on social network sites and the commenter now has an open platform and many others to add fuel to his fire. I am without a doubt that this disgust is not directed only to the conservative church, but I am specifically speaking of the conservative church because my perspective is more clear into my background.
Glorified childcare, teaching the same kids that hear the message every Sunday, and every excuse known to man can be heard for not volunteering-or for saying no-when asked to help during this enormously popular vacation bible school season.
As an obnoxious kid who really only attended for socialization with friends (ok, I really liked the snacks too), I was the one who got called over to sit on the metal folding chair beside the teacher for laughing like I always did at the most inappropriate times. Then I would look at my friends with a very serious face and large, innocent eyes until they would make little snorting sounds. They didn’t need to worry. There weren’t any other empty seats beside me, anyway. Volunteers, I was one of those kids.
Lost hope, of being loved for who she was rather than for what she could do or be for him was mirrored in the jagged shards of glass glimmering like mosaics in a pool of coffee. Continue reading “Married Misery or Disastrous Divorce?”
You’ve probably seen her at Wal-mart, at a local restaurant, or at church. She’s an attractive woman- a dedicated and loyal mother, wife, and friend. She carries a quiet strength and a fierce passion to fight for those innocent that have no warrior. There is so much we don’t know… Continue reading “The Woman You Don’t Really Know”
