I've heard at least 3 people using "wicked" in their regular conversations. The road was "wicked wet". It's cool up here.
Beautiful and rugged. That's what everyone told me, and that's all I can think of to describe Maine. Lobster boats and traps everywhere, rocky coastlines, and thick forests. Good, rugged people, too. Except for all the tourist towns, where you get wimpy city folk and billions of antique shops. But even those are beautiful.
I saw another sign proclaiming, "Lousy Food. Warm Beer," at a diner. Is this a Yankee thing? Do northern folk think that sounds good? My favorite sign, however, was at a shipyard. "No smoking gasoline." No, I don't imagine that would be nice.
I hit Halcyon Yarns in Bath. Tall ceilings, stacked to the roof with every color of yarn imaginable. They didn't carry every style, but in what they did carry, they had every single shade. Pretty.
Also in Bath was the Maine Maritime Museum. Mmm. The displays were sort of interesting, but the real delight was wandering through the old shipyards that had been there for centuries. It was a gloomy day, and I had the place all to myself. Which was why it was particularly creepy to walk into a building, say the od Caulking shed, and hear ghostly hammers working away. Each room had a CD playing sounds that you might have heard a hundred years ago. My imagination just went wild.
From there it was a short drive up the coast to Pine Tree Yarns, which is closed on Tuesdays. Poop. I pressed my nose up against the glass and admired all the pretty colors. That'll hold me for now.
"He's not a lawya, he worked for his fatha. Funny, for a murda mystery." I love eavesdropping. And libraries are especially good, at least the small ones where folks don't whisper.
Today I am on Deer Isle, a... beautiful, rugged island. I don't know what else to say. It's drizzling and wet and stunning. All the little dories are sitting on their butts in the mud, since the tide is all the way out. We Californians don't know what all the way out is. There must be an 8 foot difference between the high tide mark and the low. It's insane. I keep thinking there is a tsunami coming; that's what it meant on Saipan when the beaches looked like that. So it's beautiful, rugged, and drippy, with a forboding air about. I love it.