Today was a day of many delights. First thing this morning we walked on the beach at Roque Bluffs, then took off for St. Andrews where we strolled around Kingsbrae Gardens, had a nice lunch and did a wee bit of shopping. I bought some Adams Peak White Tea that is grown in Sri Lanka and only harvested at night--there was even more to the story than that, but I couldn't keep it all straight. The shopkeeper told me that she drinks it every morning and that it wards off colds and even speeded her father's recovery from cancer. Potent stuff, I guess, but with a mild, pleasing flavor (I'm drinking it right now!). So between that and the apple cider vinegar, I just may never get sick again.
We've been to the gardens before, but there was something special about being there off-season. There was nobody else there (not even workers), which somehow added to the magic, and even though much was dormant, we happened on some vibrant groundcover that really popped against the wheaty background. Not only that, we got to commune with peacocks and llamas.
I took quite a few photos, which I look forward to sharing over the next few days.

Not sure why, but my mind often veers toward the ideal of having less stuff, to the notion of being something of a minimalist. To that end I have gone through phases of de-cluttering and frugal living. But lately I've actually reflected on the fact that I am one lucky guy because I have so much cool stuff. I mean, I've always counted the blessing of having shelter--especially in the context of this house, which I love so much--but I also consider myself quite fortunate for having a nice car, and a kayak and hiking gear, x-country skis and my own fitness facility! No doubt about it, nothing is more important than the love of family and friends; but stuff, it has its place. Know what I'm sayin'?

Yeah, last week I was paddling the Machias River, and today we hoofed it through a little snow squall. But, you know what, a good time was had by all--me and Jake, that is. Today was the first time we did hike first, workout second, and it took a little self-prodding. But we got 'er done, yes sirree Bob, or something like that. What am I talking about? I'm just talking, just talking for the sake of hearing my own voice, 'cept that that voice is only inside my head. How 'bout you, heard any interesting voices lately?

Yesterday our hike seemed pretty tough after our workout, but today we seemed to breeze through it. We're off to a good start, but I know how challenging a challenge such as this can be when you begin fighting not just the workload but the monotony. Fortunately Jake and I have each other so we can pass the time dissecting Linsanity and what Tim Tebow will mean to the Jets, not to mention dreaming up new workout schemes. In case I didn't make the regimen clear yesterday, the goal is to do 40 workouts/hikes in an 8 week span. Basically its a second job where the pay is not money but physical prowess and glory. Probably I'll have to spend a lot of time trying to get the wifey to keep her hands off me!

Today we started a new regimen. Jake wanted to embark on an 8-week strength program built around a few total body lifts. I wanted to get in shape for hiking, which I've discovered is best done by... hiking. The elegant solution: do both. So today, for instance, we did bench presses, rope climbs and dead lifts, then strapped on the packs (still 26 lbs.) and hiked four miles. Tomorrow we'll do military presses and dead lifts, then hike with the packs. The day after that, though, we'll really shake things up. We'll hike first, then do the bench press/rope climb/dead lift protocol. Not sure if we can really pull it off, but if we do, we'll be some rugged.

But if you want to go for a gambol with a 26 lb. pack, help yourself...

Guess what I did after work today? Hint:

Last year it seemed like we didn't get any real summer weather until deep into August. Now, here we are in March with two 80 degree days in a row. If you don't have spring fever you better check your pulse. Cara was away on a college tour yesterday, and, you know, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Tonight we'll eat some quinoa cous cous with avocado and some brussel sprouts, then we'll watch a little How I Met Your Mother, talk about how blessed we are, give each other a peck and drift off to some dreamy sleep. Guess I wouldn't have guessed way back when that I would consider that a perfect evening, but that's how we roll up here in the hinterlands. That's how we roll...

This stone wall is located a short walk from Richard and Debbie's house in Bridgton. Not that I'm planning to lay down any granite slabs such as these, but I am committing myself to continue the rock wall that I started soon after we moved into this house. Back then I used a lot of ledge that had been blasted in Roque Bluffs. Don't think I can find any more material like that, so I'll be spending a lot of time prowling the woods with a pry bar in my hand. But then, perhaps I shouldn't get too ambitious, because usually when you fight the black flies, the black flies win.

This is what happens when you get old. You have to wheel your own birthday cake out of the supermarket. I offered to pay for it, but then got struck with the palsy that has afflicted me for the entire 23 years of my marriage. Every time I offer to pick up the tab when I'm out with my father-in-law my hand goes limp. It's a pretty serious medical condition, but so far I haven't been able to find a specialist who can provide the necessary treatment. Well, luckily Richard has deep pockets, so it's pretty much a no-harm-no-foul situation.

Last night I got in the St. Patrick's Day spirit. I drank a pint or two of Ale and regaled my wife with my philosophical musings. To wit, when I talk about being sprinkled in the woods, it is not, to my mind morbid. Far from it. I am at peace with the temporal nature of existence. I'd say, on the other hand, when I've awoken in the middle of the night with a feeling of dread--that's morbid; it's an anxiety wrought by this need to hold on to something that can't be grasped. You know, this all made a lot more sense when I was a bit tipsy. Plus I haven't even had a cup of tea yet.
Yeah, so what I'm trying to say, Happy St. Patrick's Day! Enjoy your corned beef and cabbage and the many days of sunshine that begin now.
Plus, for any of you keeping count, today we celebrate the 72nd year of a very special man in Bridgton, ME. Happy birthday Pop!

We always felt like we missed out when Jake went away to high school--that something was irrevocably lost; but, in one of life's unpredictable twists and turns, we now get to have Jake as a quasi only child as he finishes up his college degree at UMM. One of the special benefits for me is that we workout together, though I guess now I'm more of a spotter than a partner in that I'm not up for using as much weight as Jake likes to lift. Nevertheless, it's great fun for me to watch him make gains on an almost daily basis. This afternoon I took a photo of him doing a squat in his black sweats, blue Cons and camo gloves. That's style and strength, my friends.

I'm not jumping around for nothing out there. I've just completed a burpee in honor of Paulina Salcedo-Watson who, at 11:27 this morning, completed the Burpee Challenge. That's over 5,000 burpees in 100 days. Way to go Paulina! I believe I was at the tail-end of my own burpee challenge when Paulina and family came up to visit last summer, and somehow she was inspired by my quest. But she never told me she was embarking on the challenge herself, said she was afraid she would "wimp out." So when she notified me today of her achievement I was both thrilled and touched to know that I have a new comrade-in-arms. I actually got to do a few more burpees today than I intended, because when I asked Greg B., the newest member of the Birch Wisdom Workout Club to take my picture, he had a little technical difficulty with the camera. I had to keep the burpees going till that flash popped. "Thanks a lot," I sarcastically said to him. "That's what friends are for," he told me.

Cousin Kevin has a point: what's winsome about a pile of wood? Well, in this case, we're talking white birch with bark that shimmers with shades of violet that makes you feel as though you've stumbled on an accidental art exhibit. So why so brutally cut it to the ground? Fair question. And I'll tell you, I had this thought yesterday that there should be some sort of ceremony for the tree, thanking it for giving its life so that we can have warmth. That's why--hopefully far into the future--I'd like to be cremated and sprinkled in the forest--the one place where I never feel lonely. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

That's what I'm talkin' about! Went for an afternoon walk with Mango Mama and the Wonder Boy, then straight to the woods to toss some wood into a winsome pile, and now here I sit, 6:30 P.M., and it's still not dark. Yeah, daylight, it's a beautiful thing. That lost hour, on the other hand (insert whiney voice here): it's just not fair! Oh, but you know, fare is what you pay to ride the bus.

Ducklings in the distance from yesterday's Friday afternoon decompression walk along the river.

Today I reacquainted myself with the glorious glory of the back forty. I live a Wizard of Oz life--whenever I feel like something is lacking it turns out it is right in my backyard. This morning I felled a few trees, bucked 'em up and got ready to put in next winter's wood. Then I just enjoyed the sunshine and the tranquility of our wonderful home. If there's a should--and there shouldn't be--I didn't boil off any sap. Matter of fact, I'm behind the 8-ball on that score and it's hard to tell whether it's going to be much of a season for maple syrup anyway, what with the temperatures forecast to be in the 50's in the daytime and not dropping below freezing at night. I only tapped a few trees, so even if the sap runs, our output will be limited.

We've committed ourselves to eating as much food as possible out of our freezers, and, believe it or not, it's been a fun experience. I mean, you just never know what you'll find. Yesterday Cara dug out 8 lbs. of green beans. She roasted up a big batch with olive oil and garlic and, let me tell you, it was like eating candy. Makes me feel like we've gotten a head start on spring cleaning--too bad there's not a similarly amusing way to clean out the basement.

American Tao -- no. 47

The spirit is humble
resides in the recesses
and the great wide open
sometimes even cruises
down the highway
in an old truck.

Wisdom prevails
when the mind
is empty.

Are your boots
made for walking?

There's my lady in the infamous Patagonia Nano Puff Pullover in the delightful color Mango. Looks good on her, especially with the setting sun in the background, but when I'm wearing it it takes on a whole new flavor. I bought it because it compresses into a little pillow, which will give me comfort at night and warmth in the morning when I'm out on the trail. I wanted it in Forge Gray, but for that you have to pay full boat. It's only with the fruity colors that you get the big discount. Anyways, after it arrived in the mail I wore it over to my mother's house. Let me tell you how that went:
Cara: What do you think of Mike's new jacket?
Edith: Not much.
Well, my mother is famous for her honesty.

... suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us...
--Romans 5

The museum at Colby blows my mind, but I guess that's not enough for them, because, as you can see in the photo above, it's undergoing a major expansion. I think it will be finished just about in time for the Sweet's graduation, so if you intend to attend that wondrous event don't forget to take in a little culture. Not to rush things, though, seeing as how Jessie is only at the halfway point and really loving the college experience.

I guess winter has finally arrived... in March. Kayaking and hiking will just have to wait.

Yesterday I was complaining about how my body was in a state of rack and ruin, then this morning I realized that I had worked out 7 days in a row. Not smart.

Bang for the buck exercise-wise, I'm thinking nothing beats the climbing rope. It's just you and gravity--and, in the end, you know, gravity always wins.

I don't listen to Rush Limbaugh, but I'd like a list of his advertisers so I can go on my own private boycott. Where I work you get a detention for calling people names; where he works you get paid millions. And we wonder why kids often think adults are full of baloney.

Book recommendation: The Art of Fielding. The great American novel is still kicking, after all.

Life, for me, is overflowing with blessings--but I so wish I lived closer to my peeps. And to think that once upon a time I couldn't wait for Max to go away to college so I could get him and his big stinking feet out of our cramped bedroom!!!