Maine Stay

We are concluding a quick two-week visit to New England: nine days in Maine and five days in New Hampshire. We have watched the trees shed their autumn leaves, soon to be clothed with snow.

This is the land of clam diggers, mussel fishermen, and lobstermen. As Bill was preaching Wednesday night, as an analogy he used the phrase “like a lobster dangling over a pot.” In Missouri, this analogy would not be as effective as it is here in Maine, since I daresay that most landlocked Missourians have never watched a live lobster being lowered into a pot as it is about to be cooked to reddened perfection. But this he-ah is lobstah country, where the letter “r” is not generally pronounced in a lot of words that contain the letter “r.” The coast is best known for its fresh seafood – from the ubiquitous lobstah to haddock sandwiches. Bill  has enjoyed eating lobstah at rock-bottom prices and - thanks to Brother Lucky - crab for free. 

I like Maine for a lot of reasons, one of them being the easy availability of organic raw milk, cheeses made from raw milk, and a host of other extremely healthy foods. Most towns have health food stores that stock a lot of local products. One health food store we visited had a poster on the wall announcing a class teaching people how to ferment foods, one of the healthiest ways to preserve food. Up here, if a person wants to eat healthy, it is easy.

Maine has its mountains and its lakes and the flatlands of the The County, as the locals call it. For outsiders, it is Aroostook County and they grow potatoes up there…a lot of potatoes.

Most of Maine’s small towns lack that Wal-Mart cookie-cutter feel. You get the idea that you really are in one of America’s most unique states. Mom-and-Pop hardware stores sit beside a Dari-Whip (ice cream stand). Whoopie Pies vie for the attention of those more inclined to dessert made with wild Maine blueberries. Recycling is big here and redemption centers abound. A lot of folks up here have a self-sustaining mentality, which is both good and bad. The good part is that they grow great gardens. The bad part is that their mentality sometimes precludes them from acknowledging their need for God.

Here in Maine, a lot of towns have a Unitarian Universalist building, an odd brand of “church” that is mostly unknown outside of New England. In this part of America, there is a wide range of political beliefs; seemingly, the “liberals” shout the loudest. It is not a perfect world, by the stretch of anybody’s imagination, but we like the people, although we don’t agree with all of their beliefs.

One thing we really like is Mainers’ upfront way of speaking. For example, Teresa, a lady in the Norway, Maine church told us, “I like it when you guys come blowing through. You are my favorite evangelists.” Someone standing nearby instantly piped up: “And if you weren’t her favorite evangelists, you would know that too!” I suppose that sums up why we like Maine: we like knowing where we stand with people. Life is just easier that way. It is unacceptable to communicate with people that way in the South; Southern etiquette dictates a bit more subterfuge during conversations. But we like the openness, the direct way of communicating. It just seems to simplify things.

Fog obliterating Lake Pennessewassee from sight

Saturday morning, Lake Pennessewassee was in the “thick ‘o fog.” Soon it and Maine’s other lakes will be iced over. People will take to the ice to fish, skate, snowmobile, and race. They will drive their vehicles on the ice, meeting with friends to hang out for a while. But by that time, we will probably be south of the Mason-Dixon line, in what – for all intents and purposes – is almost like another country. Put a downeast Mainer with a bayou Cajun. They both speak English but I guarantee that they will have a very difficult time understanding each other! America’s diversity is part of what makes it so unique. Whether Maine or Louisiana – regardless of her great and increasing flaws – “it’s still America the Beautiful to me.”