Today was a day writers eye candy. So many places and people to watch and learn.
Our day began with Winter’s Harbor’s lobster boat races. This is not an occurrence in NJ, but this event and the Lobster Festival has been going for 35 years.
Lobster boats from up and down the coast compete in this annual race. Most are not working lobster boats with lobsterman who take the day off to race. The boats are of competition and each race is set up by weight or class. Clusters of people gathered to observe and applaud. A fair number attending were like us and had no idea what was going on so we had to cull information from locals.
Chatted with one man who was as clueless as we were. A native Texan, he was stationed in Acadia National Park as a seasonal park ranger. Wow, there is an interesting job. So I encouraged him to describe his life.
He lived in Texas for six months a year and for the other he worked at National Parks across the country—Denali in Alaska. The Grand Teton, Olympic in Seattle and this year Maine. He had never been to Maine before. Prior to his ranger job, he had been an engineer in the corporate world in Houston. His company “granted him an early retirement.”(his words) He left the harried, stressful corporate life behind a desk and applied for ranger job. It takes a while to get a role, but that is his new role. Interesting retirement. No rocking chair, no vacation spot, no golf dates. No, he is a park ranger who travels to a different part of the country every six months.
That is food for thought and may be useful in a story.
Another encounter: I was examining a wild rose bush now filled with rose hips. If you have read other posts, I am a rose gardener. Woman next to me asks if that is what rose hip tea is made from and how do you make it. We took apart a rose hip to study the inside and googled a tea recipe on my phone. H-m- what kind of person would make her own rose hip tea? Boil, boil toil and trouble….a sinister character. An all natural-food lover?
The Lobster festival was drenched in torrential down pour. Those with outdoor exhibits or food tables valiantly tried to stay open and cheery. Tough. Crafters invest much money to attend.
Interesting observation. A woman had a corner area with tall shelves line with pottery—bowls, mugs, candy dishes. Bake bean pots, flower pots. Lovely stuff. I browsed for another mug—which I didn’t need! A customer purchased a baked bean bowl. To look at pottery, she had to maneuver a stroller with a baby curled up inside. Maneuvering so she didn’t disturb any of the woman’s display and didn’t leave her child in the rain. She made a purchase, moved beyond the tent. A loud splat and crunch followed by “Oh my God.” let everyone know the result.
Before the mother could pick up the pieces of the fragmented bean bowl and lid, the crafter wrapped another in newspaper double bagged and handed it to the mother. She retrieved the broken bowl and refused money for the second bowl.
Nice. I bought a mug. It wouldn’t give the potter quite enough compensation for the second bowl, but she deserved the sale. The kindness of the potter will appear somewhere in a story