“Growing up in Maine is a privilege. It’s more than where you’re born. It’s an idea & state of mind imparted at birth. It’s more than loving red hot dogs, potatoes, lobster, Humpty Dumpty potato chips, and Whoopie Pies. It’s being hospitable, devoted to the outdoors, all the seasons, and each other. We don’t become Mainers, we’re born that way.”

I know that I don’t need to reiterate my great love for the state of Maine, but when this quote starting popping up on Facebook, I just couldn’t go without sharing it… somewhere. So thank you Maine, for giving me a life that truly is the best.

I spend a lot of my weekends in Maine.  Spring, summer, fall, winter – season doesn’t matter.  And no matter how many times I head north, there are some things about my weekends at home that just never get old.

Like driving over the Piscataqua River Bridge, crossing the border from New Hampshire to Maine.  I take a picture almost every time.  On the way north, I’m filled with joy, excitement, anticipation for the days ahead.  On the way south, sadness, exhaustion, a sense of desperation. Don’t make me leave.  Don’t make me go back to Boston. Back to work, the real world. Don’t make me leave my paradise.

The other routine that never gets old is weekend morning breakfast dates with my mom and dad. I love waking up early and heading out with mom and dad.  Ordering a cup of coffee from a diner and getting a breakfast bill of under $20.

Breakfast with my parents is just nice. It’s “me” time with my parents. Time to chat, catch up, and talk about what’s going on in our busy worlds.  It’s a weekend routine that started as a young child.  Of course back then, it was breakfast for our whole family. Now my sister is married, and weekend mornings mean time for me with my parents.

To add to the charm of this family routine, we have a few favorite spots, breakfast joints we rarely stray from. We love Bernie’s on the foreside, Porthole on the waterfront, and Steve and Renee’s by the boulevard. Mom always orders water. Dad one cup of hot coffee – but just one!  Me, I go for iced coffee almost every time. Mom and dad split a meal, typically an omelet off the special board. And I splurge when I can. Because that’s what’s so fun about being home with mom and dad. I’ll go for the lobster benedict. If not on the menu, yogurt, granola and fresh fruit.

We don’t change our routine much.  Same breakfast joints, same drinks, same meals.  But that’s what makes a routine so special. And this familiarity, the regularity of our weekend breakfast dates, just the three of us, makes me love the weekends in Maine that much more.

I spent this Columbus Day weekend in Maine, and as gorgeous as it was I couldn’t help but notice that the leaves have barely turned this fall. Something about too much rain, or not enough rain.  Maybe too many warms days, maybe something else entirely.  Sure, the leaves have started to turn, and I hear that the further inland you travel the more reds, oranges and yellows have already popped up.  But I wasn’t inland.  I was in Portland.  And normally, by this time in October, you’d see only the true colors of fall. The burnt orange, golden yellow and deep red that has always signified cooler weather, football games and homecoming dates, and the nearing holiday season.

Despite my overall disappointment in this October’s foliage, I couldn’t help but snap just a few iPhone pictures of the turning leaves. Enjoy!

I’m always thankful for long weekends, and this past holiday weekend was no exception.  However, this Columbus Day weekend brought 85 degree weather and sunny skies to Maine.  That my friends, is not a regular occurrence.  I’m tempted to say that one would be more likely to see snow falling on an October day in Maine than short shorts and beads of sweat.  Oh well.  As much as I wish away each summer to be replaced with winter weekends, I tried my darnedest to enjoy the heat.  One last time.

Sunday morning rolled around, my parents, puppy and I loaded up our totes, packed cool drinks and sandwiches, and headed off to the marina.  We took the boat out for a cruise through Casco Bay.  Moored up in Diamond Cove for lunch, a nap and a dip in the ocean. It was amazing how many fellow boaters were out on the water. I suppose everyone was taking in the last warm weekend of the year.

In case you missed it, I stayed busy this weekend with a whole lot of driving, eating and drinking. I spent the weekend:

• At the farm in Montville for Gram and Grampy’s 50th anniversary party
• Drinking Shipyard pumpkinhead beers around the campfire at night
• Eating deliciously fresh, farm grown food during an honestly Maine lobster bake
• Waiting out Hurricane Irene in Boston
• Avoiding fallen trees and debris
• Sipping homemade berry sangria and watching endless movies

I hope you all had as lovely of a weekend as I did, despite the horrendous weather!

A summer night at the farm in Maine always means a few things.  Good food, good drinks, good company… and a campfire.  Since it’s late August, and the air feels a bit like autumn, we’ve traded our Sam Adams Summer beer for a richer, fall beer.  Another sign that summer is nearing its end in Maine: someone first starts the fire before breakfast, and we tend to it all day long, putting it out only long after dinner when the crowd decides to hit the sack.

I swear, it’s days and nights like this that I live for…

This is how I spent my Saturday afternoon in Montville, ME, a teeny, tiny town 15 miles inland of beautiful Belfast: steaming fresh from the coast lobsters over a handmade slate fire pit, along with fresh picked, farm grown corn. Montville is where the grandparent’s farm is located, and no matter how teeny, tiny it is, it’s a place of immense beauty.

Saturday afternoon the boyf and I celebrated the completion of his road race with a fun outdoor lunch at  Portland Lobster Co..  I used to work at the restaurant when I was in high school, and despite it’s paper plates and picnic tables, I still firmly believe that it’s one of the hidden gems in Portland.  It’s not so much a secret.  Tourists flock here, and on a midsummers day you’re lucky to find a seat.  Us locals tend to overlook these tourist traps, but PLC is not to be missed.

The atmosphere is amazing.  The indoor restaurant space is just large enough for 4 or 5 small parties, so the majority of the seating is outside.   And trust me, that’s just fine.  The patio is actually a wharf, so you’re eating alongside the ocean, literally next to lobster boats and there’s almost always a live band to keep you entertained.  They serve beer, wine and a homemade sangria and man, it’s just Maine for you.  It attracts families and young couples, hippies and yuppies.  They serve a mean lobster with the meat from a 1lb lobster and nothing says summer like an order of steamers.

The boyf’s mom even joined us for a bit to enjoy the sunshine and steamers, and despite his look below, I promise you, we had a great afternoon.  This is his standard ‘are you done taking pictures yet?’ face.  I’m becoming more and more familiar with it.  Whoops.

Before you get to excited from reading the word running in a post title, sit back down.  I didn’t run this year’s Beach To Beacon 10K in Cape Elizabeth but the boyf sure did!  On top of it being my mum’s birthday, the annual road race was the other main event this weekend.

The road race attracts over 6,000 runners and more than 10,000 spectators, so the entire morning is exciting.  The runners start (would you believe it) near a beach on Route 77 and run 6.2 miles ending at (drum roll please) Portland Headlight.  Get it?  Beach to beacon.  The setting is one of a kind with the finish line just below the lighthouse and all of the event’s hoopla right in Fort Williams State Park.  The park has always been one of my favorite places at home, so you don’t have to twist my arm to get me back there.  Just don’t ask me to run.

Portland Head Light & the post race madness

Wake up time was 6:00am, and by 7:00am I had already driven the runners (boyf and friend) to the runners drop off location.  I then made my way to a back street behind the state park, found what I hoped was a legal parking spot and made the 20 minute walk to the finish line.  Spectators are welcomed to view the finish from only the right side of the race course.  The area is congested and viewers stand 4-5 rows deep, hoping to see up and over the herds of people in front of them to spot their friends as they run by for what lasts just a few seconds.  I hadn’t watched the race in a number of years, but my memory served me well.

When I used to watch my dad run years ago, Mum would always sneak us through an old soccer field, to a break in the woods where we could watch the race from the other side of the course.  I found our old perch and waited.  The race is exciting, the crowd comes alive as runners dash to the finish, and there are so many locals that run the race so it’s great fun trying to spot friends and family, friends of friends, and people you’ve never met but you’re sure that you’re friends on Facebook. Yes, I just said that.  And meant it.

With the runner after this year’s Beacon to Beacon 10K

Words of advice: have a gameplan for after the race if you ever plan on finding your friends!

Friday morning came as a special day for me.  Months ago I had scheduled this day as a vacation day from work, so I awoke in my own bed at my parents house in Maine.  A day before my mum’s official birthday, we made a lunch reservation at Diamond’s Edge, a quaint little restaurant on an island in Casco Bay.

Mum, Dad and Mrs. D. (our lifelong neighbor and family’s best friend) readied ourselves with a few warm layers, iced coffees and fresh made blueberry muffins from Katie Made, my mum and dad’s absolutely favorite bakery.  Off we went.  The weather was warm, a bit chilled on the water.  The sun peaked through on occasion.  It could have been pouring rain and cold for all I cared.  I was on vacation in Maine and on the boat with my parents.

Lunch was delicious.  Serving sizes were small but the arugula lobster salad was great, the wine refreshing, and the view darling.  We small talked with a few locals on the island that we knew from Portland, checked out the ridiculously cute general store and took a stroll through the open field behind the restaurant which was set up for a wedding or function.  Great Diamond Island was once home to an army station, the old barracks are now converted to condos.   Tell me you wouldn’t want to live here?  Remote privacy, overgrown vines, old brick buildings, porch views that can’t be beat and all just a ferry ride away from Portland.  I bet the sunrises are amazing from these lucky folks’ porches.