Friday We had talked about going to the beach Friday morning, but my mother ended up going over to my grandmother’s house for the morning, and had a hair appointment after, so the kids and I just hung around the house. We were all set to go out for lunch – Liz had called in sick to work and needed a ride to pick up her car (long story), so I offered to take her there, and asked if she wanted to go out to lunch with us, and she did – and we were all ready to leave the house, when we realized that my mother, who had taken her convertible to my grandmother’s house, had taken not only the set of keys for her convertible, but also the set of keys for her Camry, and there were no extra keys to the Camry sitting around, so I had to cancel on Liz. Then Brian suggested that we walk to The Kitty Korner, which makes the BEST Italian sandwiches on earth, and get lunch there, then bring it home. The Kitty Korner’s only about a mile from my parents’ house, and it was a nice day out, so I thought that was a pretty good idea. Not only did we walk there (well, the kids rode their bikes), but we also brought my parents’ dog, Benji, with us. Benji hasn’t quite gotten the hang of the whole “stay on the sidewalk” thing, so I had to keep him on a short leash. It was cool, though. I don’t remember what we had for dinner – oh, wait! Yes, I do! We had lobster. My father had bought enough lobster in case my brother, Randy, showed up, and when he didn’t, the spud and I each got an extra lobster. That’s right, folks, I ate THREE LOBSTERS in one meal. I know you’re jealous. ME LOVE LOBSTER, have I mentioned? Saturday Erm. What DID we do on Saturday? I think that’s the day I slept ’til 9, and had a couple of blueberry muffins for breakfast. I went to the grocery store with my mom, then we spent a couple of hours in the pool (and I got my stupid ass a sunburn, because I’m a dumbass, and didn’t stay in the shady part of the pool). At 5, we had a cookout-type thing. Actually, my mother told everyone we were going to eat at 5, so my uncle and grandmother didn’t show up until 5:30, and my brother Randy showed up sometime after that. Oh! The spud made the BEST poppyseed cake I’ve ever had – it was from a mix, with a package of pudding added, but the BEST part was the outside. When you’re making this cake, instead of flouring the pan, you use a cinnamon/ sugar mixture, and when it’s halfway through cooking, you sprinkle the same stuff on the top. It was SO damn good. We managed to finish it off in pretty quick order. If I think of it, I’ll get the recipe put up in the recipe section. If I haven’t by this time next week, someone remind me, eh? Sunday We (my mother, the spud and I) went to the beach! I got a buttload of pictures (still working on that), walked in the water, and wished that I had brought something to change into, because I was definitely feeling the urge to do some body-surfing. I didn’t, though. Next year, for sure. We were only there about 2 1/2 hours, and I slathered sunblock all over myself TWICE in that 2 1/2 hours, but STILL managed to get pretty well burned. Damnit. We left the beach and went to Fat Boy Drive-In (which, sadly, has no web presence) for lobster rolls and fries. Then it was home, where we hung out, and my mother took the spud to see the Michael J. Fox movie, the title of which escapes my mind – the one about the mouse. (Don’t email me and tell me what it is – I’m sure it’ll come to me, but I’m not coming back to change this) Debbie stopped by to drop off Brian, and I left around 7:30 to go to Liz’s house for pancit and lumpia. DAMN was that some fine food. I told Liz that someday, when I have millions to spare, I’m going to hire her to come cook for me on a daily basis. Did I mention that I did a lot of eating while in Maine? Anyway, after eating and watching Sex and the City (can I tell you how funny I think it is that Amy Sedaris is on Sex and the City while Fred’s smack-dab in the middle of a heated love affair with the works of her brother?), I headed for home. Monday, our last day in Maine, we (my mother, the spud, Brian, and I) hung around the house for most of the morning before deciding to go to the Maine Mall in South Portland for a while. That’s where I got the t-shirts for Fred, from a booth near the center of the mall. We shopped for a few hours before deciding we’d had enough (especially after my mother bought MORE clothes for the spud. Grrr!), then had lunch at The Muddy Rudder. By the time we got home, it was about 3:00, and so we didn’t do much for the rest of the day until we left the house to go eat dinner at Ricetta’s, home of the cute waiter. We got home at almost 9:00, and didn’t do much before it was time for bed. Tuesday We flew home. It was fairly uneventful, aside from the fact that the plane from Portland to Atlanta was incredibly packed, and the spud and I were sitting nowhere near each other. As we sat in our seats on the plane, before it took off, I decided to throw myself on the mercy of the guy sitting next to the spud. “Hiiiiiii,” I said, uber-friendly and smiling like I knew I was asking a lot of him. “I’m in seat 17C – would you mind switching with me so I can sit with my daughter?” He turned around and looked to confirm that seat 17C was empty, then grabbed his stuff and went back there, without saying a word. I have no idea whether he was pissed, or simply figured that nothing more needed to be said about the matter, but I showered him with “Thank you SO much!”s as he walked away. The rest of the flight was uneventful, and we had a 2-hour layover in Atlanta. We stopped for lunch at TGI Friday’s, at the end of concourse B (I think), and then walked to our gate, B33. We’d been sitting there for about an hour, when the guy working the gate announced that there’d been a gate change, and our flight would be leaving from gate B27. We went to that gate, saw that our flight wasn’t listed on the “Next flight leaving” screen, and decided to find a monitor. Which was many, many gates away. Our flight, in fact, was going to be leaving from gate B5, so we had a bit of a hike ahead of us – good thing we don’t do that carry-on luggage thing! The flight from Atlanta to Huntsville was so empty that the spud and I each got our own row. I love the flights from Huntsville to Atlanta and vice-versa because they’re so short that you no sooner get to cruising altitude than the pilot is announcing that the initial descent into Huntsville (or Atlanta) is beginning. Fred drove up to meet us at the door, we tossed our luggage in the back, and voila! we were home. And this damn entry’s at an end, thankyajeezus.]]>