First of all, the drive from Philly to Maine is really long, even if there aren’t kids in the car. Actually, if we just had to get to Maine, it would have been a much shorter day. But once we get to the Maine border, we continue on for about 6 hours. Jack and Casey were really good in the car and I only had to yell at Jack once for kicking my seat. We were at about hour 9 at that point.
It started to get foggy about an hour from the cottage and Jack thought it was “really spooky when it’s froggy out.” It’s now 11am and the fog is finally lifting and revealing the gorgeous view from the cottage.
We’ve already made our first trip down to the beach and I wish I had a camera with me. Unfortunately the path down to the beach is a little difficult right now and I could barely get Jack and Casey down there without falling. I may have made a poor choice in footwear to make that a little more difficult.
I dipped my toe in the river and thought it was a little chilly…almost numbing if I had kept it in there much longer. Dad has a weather station here that has all sorts of weather data but apparently not a water temperature. Oh and by the way, the air temp was only 58F. Anyway, Jack and Casey had no problem with the water and waded right in. I might have put bathing suits on them had I thought they were going to get in so deep.
After Jack’s shorts were hanging off him, he decided he didn’t need them any more and off they came. And what Jack does, so must Casey do. Next, Jack decided he needed to pee in the river so off came his underwear. Then his shirt was a little wet so he took that off too. I managed to keep the rest of Casey’s clothes on. She was getting a little tired and cold by then. After Jack threw rocks to his heart’s content, we headed back up to the house. Watching him scamper across the beach in his birthday suit was priceless. Thank goodness for the concealment of the fog. The beauty of this area is that probably no one would have seen him anyway, except for the seagulls to whom Casey spent several minutes waving.
On the way back up to the cottage, Jack said, “Why is this hill so big?” A very good question…one that I probably thought every time I walked up it when I was a kid. Some things never change.