This past week, while the plumber was up at the house honeycombing the walls and connecting pipes, vents and water lines, Lyn arrived with Dad from Florida. They had driven up in her Ram, spending three nights on the road, travelling north on the I-95 and then cutting over onto the SR27 near Bath, Maine to cross into Canada at Woburn, 15 minutes away from our place. We found a nice house for rent a few minutes away that was cozy and ideal for them, complete with kitchen, satellite TV, firepit in the backyard and a BBQ. The first night was chilly but it warmed up into the low 80's the rest of the time and, although it was too early to see the changing of the colours, the clear late summer air made it easy to follow the distant rolling hills into Maine. It was quiet and we had the Domaine to ourselves mostly. At this time of year wild turkeys wander through the property, roosting each night on one of my trees, perhaps enticed by the spilled food from the many bird feeders I have put up near the cabin. I had a fire every night while Dad was here and, although he never said much about that or the beauty of the place, I think he enjoyed a few moments where he would gaze off and think about his life. On Sunday I drove him and Lyn to Piopolis, the little village on Lake Megantic fifteen minutes away where he walked onto the jetty and admired the peace and tranquility of the lake. At one time there were several wharves on the lake in Piopolis, the lifeline supplying the villages around with food, clothes, medicine as well as a means of transportation for people and livestock. We didn't see any boats while we were there but according to the plaque at the waters edge between 1906 and 1930 the ferry service was provided by two steamers, the Lena and the Jubilee. We had a nice lunch at the nearby Auberge Au Soleil Levant while we were there before returning to the cabin. Unfortunately Dad had his mind set to leave Quebec after only three nights, saying he missed his home, felt he was too far from civilzation and nervous about trying to reenter the States - no words from us could convince him to stay longer, or at least visit his grandkids in Montreal and say his goodbyes - he won't be back and I guess we will have to head back south if we want to see him again any time soon. So brave Lyn relunctantly headed back to Florida, this time taking a different route to avoid the madhouse of NYC and all those other big cities along the I-95, promising to be back with Don next year sometime. Thankfully they made it home to Brooksville safely. It will be strangely quiet for a while without Rich or Lyn here but Marie and I can now carry on with the next phase of the house - having the 1000 litre propane tank installed!
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wild turkeys by the shed |
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view of distant Kibby wind farm, Maine, from the house |
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enjoying Marie's stew |
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jetty in Piopolis |
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contractor installing pipe on the mezzanine |
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boxes of ABS |
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plumbing the bathroom off the kitchen |
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6am Monday morning |
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Lyn, saying farewell by the solar array, 8am, Monday morning |