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It has been a busy day for me today, people. In case you were wondering why I haven’t posted or even if you weren’t wondering, I have a news flash……

It's moving day!!!!!

It's moving day!!!!!

I spent the day packing up my blog and moving it to its new berth at my own domain. Yup. This is for real now. And while there is a new address to go with the move – – the blog name, Only in Maine, stays the same. This is really just sort of like moving to a better house across town.

Those of you reading me in an RSS reader will need to update your subscription address (delete old subscription, go to new address at, and re-subscribe), those of you who have bookmarked me will need to re-bookmark from the new address. Either way, if you stick around over here at the old address, you’ll get mighty bored re-reading this same post over and over, because this page won’t be updated after today.

For those of you groaning at the prospect of change, well, that is the sound of progress, isn’t it?

The rest of you will be cheering me on because you know that this can only mean good things for me, and for you as well. The new site is much more flexible and will give me a lot more control over the appearance and function of the contents. 

You will have to be patient for a bit while I clean up all the little tidbits and straggling items, as WordPress doesn’t necessarily make it easy to make a move like this, and I’m not that techno-savvy. Really. Not. It’s pretty much a left-to-your-own-devices proposition. You have to remember to pack everything yourself, and then double-check all the closets and cupboards as well as under the fixtures to make sure you’ve left nothing behind.

So all of this may take me a while, you know, like one last trip back to the old apartment to make sure you got everything out before you turn in the keys.

There will be a few nice surprises in store at the new place (no, I’m not going to tell you now, then they wouldn’t be surprises, silly, now would they?), but all in all it should look pretty much the same once all the furniture is placed and the boxes unpacked, but after today (the equivalent of that first day of flurried unpacking activity looking for the oh so crucial missing corkscrew) you will notice a few updates from time to time, both in appearance and function. Slowly. And all in good time.

I can tell you that right off the bat you will be able to edit your own comments after you first post them, and I was also able to add a widget that will enable you to share my posts with your friends (always thinking of you, my dear loyal readers). There will also be a “contact me” button so you can email me right from the blog if you feel so inclined. Or not.

Unfortunately, the one thing I can’t take with me, because my new landlord won’t allow it (and no it’s not a waterbed nor is it Rocky, who comes with me everywhere), is the “stats” feature that was in the upper left hand corner, keeping count of how many times I’ve been read. So you won’t be able to count with me anymore, and we’ll have to leave that here at the old WordPress site at 2000 (that’s 2000 since January 17th. Bad or good? Don’t know). But, you’d better believe that I’m still counting behind the scenes so don’t even think about losing the new address, GOT IT?

See you on the other side!


In my humble opinion, the difference in the politics of 2001 and the politics of 2009 is this: 

When the democrats lost the White House to George W. Bush they knew he would fail but hoped he would succeed.

Now that democrats are in the White House, the most outspoken members of today’s republican party hope that Obama will fail even though they are afraid he will succeed.

Doesn’t anyone see that hoping for the President’s failure is hoping that America and all of her citizens find no economic recovery? That millions of Americans, republicans and democrats alike, will suffer lack of employment, health care, and city and state services, like fire and police protection, just to name a few? That cities and states will fail, causing greater unemployment and resulting unrest? Are they looking for armageddon? What kind of people wish for this? This is not patriotism.

How vulnerable to, say, terrorism, is a country that can’t feed its people and has no one left to defend it?

One child was suspended from school 8 years ago for wearing a “No Bush” tee shirt to school. What fate should Rush Limbaugh and Bobby Jindal suffer?

After 9/11 we were all called upon to get behind the President on his “war on terrorism.” Is it not time to get behind this President in his attack on the economic failure left behind by the last administration no matter what your politics?

How is it possible to blame the current administration for being unable to fix, in 6 short weeks, an unsolvable problem that took 28 years to create?

Today I got to looking through a bunch of old correspondence from my school days. Yes, those oh so many many years ago. Not just back when people the world over used to correspond via handwritten letters, I mean back when we used to write notes to each other – even when we were going to see each other within the hour or we were actually sitting across from each other while writing.

I’m sure that today those notes have been completely supplanted by text messages. And I’m equally sure that today the word “notes” probably only refers to something you attach to your Facebook page, not to those short dispatches written on a piece of scrap or notebook paper carefully folded to conceal the writings inside from the prying eyes of potential unintended recipients, or sometimes even on note cards in their own little envelopes.

First of all you have to marvel at the sheer prolific nature of all these writings. There is a ton of it. An entire banker’s box. All written in longhand. No keyboards of any kind were used here. And full English words are used (no text abbreviations). OK, so it wasn’t all dictionary perfect, after all, we were kids. But we were trying to be so grown-up and we even over-formalized some of these writings with salutations and flourishes. As if they were precious scripts to be kept through history. And, indeed they were, because all these years later I still have them. 

These were extremely important communiques, messages like:

“I love Joan and tell her please” 

I have no recollection of any person named Joan!

How about cryptic ones like this:

“Please read the other note”

What other note? What did the other note say? We’ll never know – the facts being relegated to history and this cryptic missive the only residue of whatever critical information was contained in the so-called “other note.”

And then there are those silly notes that only adolescents can possibly take seriously – and we did:

“Guess who likes me now?”

The idea then being to circle one out of the four names written underneath, one of which was Yogi Bear. Who probably also had kooties.

Or the notes upon which all your future happiness rested:

“Job doesn’t know if he likes you or not. But most likely he hates you. Well isn’t class boring.”

Nice segue, huh? Very smooth. Job, if you are reading this, I didn’t mean to drag you into my blog madness, but, hey, there you were. You didn’t write this one, so no need to feel outed in any way.

Folks, Job was my very first boyfriend, and also my very first kiss and now possibly my oldest friend. It was a relationship fraught with verbal sparring and what we thought was witty repartee, as in this note from him (sorry Job but your father should have taught you never to commit anything to paper…..):

I  will not talk to you again. 

When you talk to me then I might talk back.



That he signed with love is the true measure of the boy. So no matter how angry he was at me, apparently he still “loved” me.

People, we were 12 and 13. This was serious stuff!

So do any of you still have a cache of precious notes from those early years? Do they make you laugh, do they make you cry, do they just make you cringe or do they fill you with the warm and fuzzies?

More importantly, do any of you know who Joan is or what was in that other note?

A friend of mine asked if she could put in a request for a post on a particular subject. Are you kidding me? Would I be amenable to having the dreaded burden of coming up with a topic taken off of my shoulders???? I most certainly would. I am more than happy to take requests so please feel free to suggest any topic you like. Whether or not I actually write a post on the subject you suggest will, of course, be entirely up to me. Because I am the Queen of Onlyinmainelandia, and my word is law.

So what was my friend’s topic suggestion? I copy it here:

“So do you take blog requests? In Maine, are you living in an igloo or what? When it snows 3 feet, does your electric go out and you have to rely on your wits and a good woodstove? Lets hear how the mainlanders survive like the pilgrims!”

Yes, my friend, I do live in an igloo….




If only it would just snow only 3 feet, there wouldn’t be any problem. The electric does go out every so often due to,,,,,”1 to 3 inches of snow,” and I do have to rely on my wits. Luckily I am a very witty person. 

I have no woodstove, but a very nice fireplace which I use to heat the house and I cook in it as well when the power goes out. Mostly I run over to my neighbor’s house and they feed me and keep me warm with their woodstove. I have very lovely neighbors. I like them a lot.

By “mainlanders” I assume you mean “Mainers.” How do they survive? A Mainer’s answer would be “How do we survive what? A little snow?” 

Just another day to a true Mainer. To illustrate, whenever there is a storm bad enough to knock out power, shelters are opened all over but they usually remain empty, perhaps a couple of nonagenarians (that’s people in their nineties, Erwin) if the power outage is long enough. Because no matter how much denial there is about the winter weather, a lot of houses have either a generator or a woodstove or both. And Mainers are neighborly. They check on each other and help each other out. Very few people have to avail themselves of their local shelter.

The snow does not bring us hardship. It brings business (skiers and winter recreation, etc.) and work (plowing, roof sweeping, road and drive sanding, shovelling jobs, etc.). BRING IT!

I like this topic suggestion thing, and may make it a regular Sunday feature. What do you think? Let me know, leave me a comment here!

Today, on a social networking site that shall remain nameless, I was tagged for a me-me by 2 different friends. As near as I can tell, in the blogosphere, a me-me is a sort of chain request for some type of personal information, in this case “25 Random Facts About Me,” usually with some sort of forwarding instructions, in this case “tag 25 of your friends” who are then supposed to post 25 random facts about themselves and then tag 25 of their friends, and so on and so on, sort of like a very bad 1970s shampoo commercial.

Since we are becoming so intimate and cozy here, you and I, dear readers, I thought perhaps I would share the “25 Random Facts About Me” with you so you could get to know me a bit better, you know, as a more 3 dimensional (dementia-nal?) person, rather than only as the one-dementia comedic genius you have come to know and love here.

I won’t make you come up with your own 25 things but I will ask you to tag 25 of your friends – with this blog address and a fair critique of how much you enjoy (or hate) reading it…….

25 Random Facts About Me:

  1. I have no middle name.
  2. I lived in Rome, Italy for 20 years and speak Italian like a native Roman but have no Italian ancestry.
  3. I can also speak Italian like a hood. This can be useful sometimes. Like when your purse is being snatched, or you are about to be ripped off by a cab driver who thinks you are a tourist.
  4. I learned to drive in Italy but didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 19.
  5. I ride a Honda Nighthawk 650 motorcycle, although it is now disabled and sitting in my garage.
  6. I was painfully shy as a child.
  7. I am a dog person and will most likely always share my life with at least one dog until I die or become a drooling diaper wearing vegetable (you know, whichever comes first).
  8. I am an only child with 3 half brothers, 1 half sister and 2 stepsisters (my parents were very, very busy)!
  9. I am still friendly with every guy I ever dumped with whom I had a serious relationship.
  10. I am a self-taught cook very much influenced by living in Rome, and am unable to follow a recipe without modification.
  11. I am terrified of commitment. Even committing to this blog makes me sweat.
  12. I never played with dolls as a child. 
  13. Guilty pleasure: I am a courtroom drama junkie and love Law & Order (all of them), and read any Grisham like it’s the bible.
  14. I love living in Maine and don’t know why I didn’t move here sooner.
  15. I’ve seen the Rolling Stones live from either the first 10 rows or backstage 5 times.
  16. I quit cigarettes in 2006 after smoking up to 2 packs a day for 33 years (and deeply loved every single cigarette!).
  17. I still miss living in Italy so much it hurts, even after 25 years.
  18. I never learned how to ride a bicycle.
  19. I love the TV show “House,” and think his character was based on me. Except I’m not a guy. Or a doctor. Or living in New Jersey. Or hooked on Vicodin. And I don’t know anyone named “Cuddy.” But then, who does?
  20. I once saw Frank Sinatra perform live.
  21. I once saw Elvis perform live in Vegas. Before he supposedly died.
  22. I don’t remember where I was when Kennedy was shot but I do remember where I was during the moon landing (oddly, I was in Maine!).
  23. I’m a bear about my privacy and my “personal space” and  guard them both fiercely (which makes the idea of a blog even more frightening!)
  24. I am fascinated by accents and dialects.
  25. I love to entertain at home and love cooking for company.
My Honda Nighthawk 650, gathering dust.

My Honda Nighthawk 650, gathering dust.


There you have it.  25 random things about me.  Now, remember.  Your job is to go tell 25 people how much you love this blog and twist their arms until they subscribe gently suggest they check it out and see if they like it too.

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