The title reflects an odd juxtaposition you may think.  My husband Santiago just returned from a five month assignment to the US Embassy Algiers (from an earlier post, I recounted our December time together in Egypt).  Once I returned in late January, ravenous reading of the New York Times was de rigueur as the Arab Spring was blossoming across the Middle East and Northern Africa.  The spark of this spring was Tunisia, a tiny country nestled between Algeria and Libya  - prompting friends to comment, wink, wink, how strange that Santiago’s arrival in Algeria coincided with tumult in Tunisia, and then of course Egypt, Bahrain, Syria, Libya…

Anyway, The NYT has a daily summary page about the goings on in the various Middle Eastern countries — Algeria made this summary once, maybe two days.  The country is actually quite stable and open, and they have had a whole gaggle of presidents since their independence from the colonizing power, France, back in the 1960s.  Remember de Gaulle and the existentialist Camus (“Mama died today.  Or maybe it was yesterday”). Sorry, sometimes I have a huge urge to put my liberal education to use – or at least on display!  Anyway, Algeria possesses a charming combination of things French (think baguettes) and things Moslem, and boasts a beautiful Mediterranean coast.  It is an undiscovered tourist venue.

Interior of an Algerian Mosque

Meet me at the Casbah

Famous Roman Ruins at Tipaza on the Mediterranean

The Arab Spring may be drawing to a close but there is still plenty of time to capture the Maine Spring.  Come on by and we’ll show you more pictures.

adieu,
Diana
The White House Inn

Not a crocus is to be found yet, especially after the April Fool’s Day delivery of 10 inches of snow.  What to do after visiting all the art museums (see previous post!)?  My suggestion is seek refuge in music.

Through the Big Brother-Big Sister organization, I have become a Big Sister to a young girl from Searsport.  On April 3, we attended a concert of the Penobscot Bay Singers held at The First Church in Belfast; performed were three choral works by Johannes Brahms.  For those musically educated, the pieces were Two Motets, Opus 29, and Nanie, Opus 82.  The concert was majestic and uplifting; although my little and I understood not a word sung (well, it was in German), we felt the stirring beauty of the music.

The Penobscot Bay Singers dot the Mid-Coast with these gems of concerts throughout the year and have been doing so for over thirty years.  Our concert also included several songs by the outstanding Mount View Chamber Singers — including Smoke Gets in Your Eyes and Elijah Rock.  I am happy to report that these lyrics were perfectly clear!

The Man Himself: Johannes Brahms

Let the Music Begin,

Diana
The White House Inn

For those of us who are not snow bunnies, what are we to do after looking in wonder at all that accumulation?  (Last week when things warmed up to 30, I thought the great thaw had begun – alas, not so as eight more inches descended just yesterday.)  The answer, as to so many questions, is art!

Surprisingly, Maine boasts seven art museums.  A sojourn with great panache would trace the Maine Art Museum Trail to include the Bates College Museum of Art in Lewiston, the Bowdoin College Museum of Art in Brunswick, the Colby College Museum of Art in Waterville, the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland, the Oguinquit Museum of American Art, the Portland Museum of Art, and the University of Maine Museum of Art in Bangor.

These museums display works by artists who were inspired by Maine as well as renowned masters, such as Degas, Renoir and Picasso.  We attended a special exhibit on Robert Indiana at the Farnsworth.  Mr. Indiana now lives in Maine — by the way, that is not his real name – he changed it to something everyone could remember.  If you read this post, you will now remember Robert Indiana as the artist who painted LOVE.  If you don’t recall the painting, I am sure you remember the stamp – a lot of brides used it for their wedding invites.

Robert Indiana's LOVE

All in all, I believe the best bangs for the buck are the art museums at private colleges – the art building is usually very appealing, the art is given by wealthy alumni, there are few visitors so you can allow a piece to speak to you for hours on end and no one will care, and the museums generally are free to encourage those few visitors.

Think ART,
Diana

The White House Inn

The Camden Conference kicks off this year Feb 18-20, with the topic, “The Challenges of Asia.”  Too bad the planners had no crystal ball, otherwise the subject at hand might have been “Authoritarian Arab Regimes.”  Yet, perhaps the subjects are more closely related than our first impression – after all, China has limited social media networking and internet access since the ruckus in Egypt erupted.  In any event, Camden’s list of speakers promises an exciting educational vista, both for those who wish to attend in person at the Camden Opera House and for those who prefer hi-tech distance learning, via simulcast to various satellite venues, including our own Hutchinson Center in Belfast.

Santiago and I spent Christmas in Egypt, nonchalantly sailing north, down the Nile.  (This may sound confusing but it’s nothing compared to lower and upper Egypt.  Lower Egypt is the Delta area abutting the Mediterranean Sea whereas Upper Egypt is the southern end.)   A few days later, we visited the Great Pyramids at Giza and even climbed down a narrow passageway into the burial chamber — every step down was accompanied by a mental reminder that nothing has caved in over the past five thousand years.  On 29 December we bid farewell to the land of Nerfertiti (my favorite Queen – she happened to make absent a woman who bore a son for her husband  - the boy became King Tut but that is another story).  We left Egypt in the nick of time, which was all the time we needed.

Egypt in Quieter Times

Later,
Diana
The White House Inn

Like everyone else, I am racing around in preparation for Christmas.  Just this afternoon, I strolled into the Belfast Post Office to buy a bunch of Christmas angel stamps – the one with the angel playing the lyre (or some stringed instrument of yesteryear).  In my first case of bah humbug, the post office had not even one!  So, rather than buy some of those hideous Liberty Bells all awash in brown, I purchased a packet of Bart Simpson.  How is that for Christmas?

Yet my spirits were restored as I dined with the Belfast Garden Club at the annual Christmas luncheon held at the town favorite, Darby’s Restaurant.  We spoke of gingerbread cookies, the Nutcracker ballet and our web master who is having her first baby on Christmas Day.  Believe me, I was happy to forego our normal monthly meeting with talk of grass grubs, rose aphids and other enriching topics.

Later I drove past the wonderful Fishers’ Christmas Tree Farm on Route 3, three miles west of Belfast, where you can cut your own.  Alas, this year no tree for us and no big family reunion – the innkeepers are on our way to Egypt.  On Christmas Day,  we shall be barging down the Nile in the land of Nefertiti.  My friends are taking bets as to whether I shall hitch a ride on a camel.  Very tempting, but then, I think not.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to One and All

White House Inn Christmas Wreath from Heirloom Gardens

Diana
The White House Inn

Many an afternoon when I get that hankering for a “cap” (that would be cappuccino), I take a short drive over to Bell the Cat, a cute little coffee bar that resides in the same grand room as a book store and gift store — well, I could spend hours there.  (1 Belmont Ave, Belfast, ME, 207-338-2084; they also do great catering). Today I discovered the lineage of the name “Bell the Cat”.  Aesop wrote a fable called “Mice in a Meeting”.  Rather than give a summation, here is the real thing:

In the kitchen the mice all met in a meeting
With many a squeak and many a greeting
To try to decide on something that
Would save them all from the terrible cat.
For she was the killer of many a mouse
Both in the field and in the house.
Then on his hind legs a sleek fellow stood
And said he had a plan that was good.
So after a speech that ruffled his fuzz,
He told them at last just what his plan was.
“There’s nothing to it,” he said, “by heck,
We’ll just tie a bell around the cat’s neck,
And then we will know where she is in a twinkle
Whenever we hear the little bell tinkle.” …..

The mice continue with an amusing discussion about who exactly will bell the cat, and that turns out to be a problem.  You can guess the Aesopian moral here!  Anyway some years later Mr. Webster came up with a definition of bell the cat – to do a daring or risky deed.

later,
Diana

The White House Inn

The son and daughter-in-law came for a visit last month which meant I put on my cruise director hat. Why is it that you never explore your own back-yard until guests come for a visit? Well, Bangor is not exactly the back-yard (50 miles away) but I had heard of an odd thing called a “City Forest” with a boardwalk through a bog.  So the four of us piled in the car and off we went on a brilliant autumn day.

The Bangor City Forest is over 600 acres of trees, woodlands and bog.  Apparently this bog was created over 10,000 years ago when the glacier that covered Maine melted and receded into the Atlantic Ocean – and right through this bog is a mile-long boardwalk which means you can get up close to the bog without getting your Guccis wet (remember I’m a city girl).  For the more adventuresome explorer, the city forest offers nine miles of trails most of which are dubbed easy hiking.  (For those seeking thrills like the Eiger, better to go to Acadia and Cadillac Mountain.  Okay, I am stretching this analogy).

The bog is full of ferns, skunk cabbage, moss and hundreds of plant species; the acidic content of the bog stunts the growth of trees, most of which are no taller than 6 to 8 feet – which gives one an idea of how a giant would feel walking through a human forest.  After our nature tour, we piled back in the car and headed for Sam’s and, of course, Starbucks which were only two miles away!

Intrepid Explorers: Sandy 3, Diana, Sandy 4 and Trina

Diana
The White House Inn

I would wager that few people know their state’s etching on the flip side of the quarter.  About ten years ago, the United States Bureau of the Mint decided George needed a rest from the ubiquitous eagle.  So every state was asked to provide an alternative representing its own special grandeur, natural treasure or other uniqueness.  For sure, I had no clue about Maine’s submission, until today.  Drum roll…. it is Pemaquid Point that adorns General Washington on his back side.  Two girl friends, a gentleman friend and I ventured forth to this  point at the end of one of the many peninsulas jutting into the ocean – for reference it is 60 miles south of Belfast and near Booth Bay Harbor and Wiscasset.  (Maybe a map would be handy!)

Pemaquid Point is spectacularly beautiful with rugged, rocky shores, steep ledges, and pounding waves; it ideally represents the splendor of Maine’s shoreline.   I can see why Maine wished to be represented on the quarter by this place.  The point is equipped with one of the 60 plus light houses that dot the coastline; visitors can climb to the top for an even more splendid view.  A museum completes Lighthouse Park at Pemaquid Point.  I asked the attendant if we could get one of the quarters –  sure, for $5.00 wrapped prettily in a blue cellophane.  Well, our group decided to forgo that treat and just hope we come across one in general circulation.  BTW, the Mint issued these quarters in numbers proportionate to the state’s population, so getting one of the Maine quarters any time soon is not a foregone conclusion.

View from the lighthouse

Three babes: JoJo, Mary and Diana at Pemaquid

After our rugged day on the coast, the four of us repaired to Shaw’s Wharf in nearby New Harbor for a Maine meal of lobster, clams and sweet potato french fries.  And of course a cold one.

Later,
Diana

The White House Inn

Still three babes - at the bar!

Move over Aristotle, Augustine, Hobbes et al and make way for Ferdinand the Bull, the populist philosopher.  Stop and smell the flowers – brilliant and unassailable.

The other day I spotted a beautiful moth affixed to the a column on the front of our Inn.  Turns out it was a Luna Moth, one of the the biggest in North America, with a wing spread of four and a half inches.  Apparently, Lunesta, the sleeping potion, is named after this moth- with a life span of seven days, the connection of drug to moth is somewhat baffling.

Luna Moth with 7 days of glory

My neighbor has a mass of raspberry bushes in his yard; and for the last month I have been picking like a whirling dervish.  Fresh raspberries with a dollop of yogurt – yum.   Alas, this evening witnessed the last of the raspberries, until the berries rise like a phoenix in the fall.

The Last Raspberry

Maine and the Mid-coast are a cornucopia of beautiful creatures, delectable fruits, and stunning scenery. Ferdinand has it right — stop and smell the flowers.

Stop and Smell the Flowers

Diana and KC

Last week my sister Kathleen, aka KC, came for a visit.  I thought I would show her the usual – hiking trails, sailing, stunning outdoor scenery.  Wrong!  KC showed me that Maine is a shopping paradise for the antique aficionado.    Our drive from Belfast to Camden (normally 20 minutes) took four hours as we stopped in all the shops along Route 1  – Kendricks, The Painted Lady, The Blue Dolphin, and Sadie’s.  KC has never met a shop she didn’t like, exiting each store with some treasure she could not live without.

One particularly brilliant day, I insisted we at least drive to Acadia and take the wimp route to Mt Cadillac – that would be by car.  We also stopped for lunch at Jordan’s Pond cafe with its the famous popovers.  Alas, on the way home KC spied an antique shop but mercifully closing time kept us out!

No shopping here!

KC could write the wikipedia of antique stores but I did remember a few “facts”.  Don’t go into shops that offer both antiques and books, for one.  And antique shops, consignment stores and thrift stores are each unique.  I thought they all had “stuff” to sell and many even have the word “stuff” in the name – e.g. Old Stuff here in Belfast (119 High Street), which BTW sells old stuff and new, decorative lamp shades (which are very hard to find).  George Carlin’s “Stuff” skit is priceless.

KC left two days ago with her car loaded to the gills.  As for me, I went shopping on neimanmarcus.com

Later, Diana

The White House Inn