Sea monsters ... and other summer vacation discoveries

be very afraid , originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Silas, it turns out, has found his voice. And I don't mean the cute babbling sounds, the almost-words that for months now he's been trying to work into conversations.

He's found the SCREAM. The shriek. Without words it says: "I am not happy you just ... put me down ... picked me up ... took away that toy ... took away the glass beer bottle I'd fished out of the recycling ... started sweeping ... stopped sweeping ... put me in the tub ... took me out of the tub ... closed the refrigerator door when I was trying to grab myself a brewski ..."

I could go on and on, but even the fleeting memories hurt my eardrums.

Meanwhile, his sister had the time of her life playing with the kids of some friends we invited to help us battle Maine's state bird (the mosquito) and soak up (too much as it turned out) the sun on the gray sands of Kennebunkport's finest beaches.

Of course by the time the week had drawn to a close we were a little concerned that our friends would have gotten more sleep and had a better time if they'd camped out in the car, so raucus were our mornings and bedtime (lack of) routine.

Ah. Vacation.

Really it's just a code word for "spending the same amount of energy (if not more) doing different (and hopefully fun) things while pretending to be independently wealthy." The truth is everyone needs another one just to get over one.

Stunning how changing the pace a little, even if the vacation itself is somewhat routine, can really wear you out.

We always go to Maine. We always stay with Jed's mother (or at least at her house). We always go to get Thai food at Mekong Thai. We always walk the dog on Gooch's Beach. We always get coffee and muffins at The Landing or at Port Bakery. We usually go to Biddeford to check out the offerings at Goodwill. We sometimes go to Freeport, which according to at least one Maine comedian is some native word meaning "more expensive than the real sh*t."

We meet up with Jed's buddies from back in the day, who now have wives and children of their own.

We seldom deviate from the norm.

Even if we bring folks with us (which we've done from time to time) we pretty much do the same things we always do. We sleep as late as we can. We make breakfast. We go to the beach. We get lunch. We hang around the house. Build a fire in the pit. Make dinner. Drink adult beverages and watch movies by the the light of the computer's DVD.

We think so hard about grand plans that they never seem to materialize.

We've never gone to Acadia. We seldom get to Goat Island or even Goose Rocks Beach. We don't travel up the coast like we used to. We don't really explore.

Instead we put salve on our bug bites and soothers on our sun burns. There is always some boo-boo or war wound to take care of. We throw a stick for the dog. We make calls and plans with Jed's childhood friends. We play cards and board games and chat into the night. Sometimes we go on hikes or kayak rides along the river. We eat ice cream and smores and too many snacks late into the night. Sometimes we just sit and listen to the waves ... from the sound machine that helps Jed sleep but keeps me up.

We always think we should be doing more than just pretending we're Mainers at heart.

*** I told you I would have photos from Silas' birthday party, and I fully intended to follow through, however I somehow managed to take ALL of those photos in RAW and the new camera's RAW evidently requires an update in my browser/translator widgety gibbit to open ... so I need to do that. You know once I get the laundry done and the worklife back up to speed.

Soon, soon.