Ocean Point

By Pat Waldman

Our bright red and glowing yellow pansies are like happy little soldiers marching in place in their window boxes against the brick red barn. Perennials are popping up all over. Trees are ready to unfold their leaves on the next warm day. Our autumn leaves have been raked frantically, as the dump will only accept piles of leaves until May 1st. I am concerned what cottage owners will do with their leaves when they arrive. The ground is quite dry for this season, so burning may not be an option. The water will be turned on by Wednesday, May 1 st at the latest.

Lanny and Leslie's car was in their driveway, the Landerands have been here off and on all winter, and Sue Taylor and her husband also were gardening as we drove by. Dana Boyd called to us from his deck, as he came home to attend his grandfather's funeral. Judy Boyd got back home last weekend. Her brother and his 13-year-old daughter spent school vacation here. Judy and Jim's niece, Arlyea is a terrific young lady. She walked our pups for us, and they spent every day waiting for her to come over and play.

Dan Boyd, Marlies' and Gary's son, was also back from school, where his major is now in petroleum management, which would seem to be an interesting and vital field of study at this point in time! He plans to have a career like his dad out on the cold Northern seas.

Danielle, with the great grandchildren in tow, came down last Friday night. One of my pleasures is to be greeted by "Where are my trucks! I need them now," from AJ, who is 4½ years old, and has a complete motor pool of shiny new vehicles in Augusta. He is referring to the old handicapped jalopies that Uncle John had 40 years ago. He also likes to play "Teapot" by pouring me "tea" from the copper samovar in the sunroom. His sister, Hannah, has outgrown that foolishness, but she amuses me by insisting on sleeping in the living room on a metal chaise lounge. Each child seems to store up special memories during their childhood of grandparents' homes.

My memories are of warm cottage smells upstairs under the exposed rafters. After a daily frigid swim to Negro Island, I'd slip under the flannel blankets and read Zane Grey's "steamy" novels of Victorian romances.

To add to the children's highlights, we went to Fisherman's Festival very early, to watch the Codfish races with high school participants running the relay races, vying to get the winner's money for their class trips. It was comical. With the large slickers, pants and boots of commercial fishermen, each runner had to grab two dead, very dead codfish and dash around the block. There were dropped drawers to hike up, too big boots to trip them up, and no hands were left to manage the slimy cold fish. One enterprising young man even tucked a fish into the front of his slicker pants! Our grandchildren were very amused, although Hannah said she'd never race that way, and AJ allowed he'd love to do it!

We watched the lobster boat races from a great vantage point - the Blue Moon Café - with breakfast for us. It was their first day serving food! Try not to miss this event in another year. I always remind you!

I can be reached at: 633-3669 or e-mail waldman1@roadrunner.

com .