Damariscotta is probably not in the target news market of our fine local newspaper, but we all seem to find our way to Reny’s sooner or later. So maybe this week's adventure could be given a pass and accepted as a joint venture column with no serious reader or management objections. Thank you for your patience.
We all rolled into Damariscotta for Thanksgiving in fine fashion. Morgan, our youngest, made all her flight connections home from Geneva and Lisbon, albeit a bit groggily, and retrieved her sister at Portland Jetport when she arrived Thanksgiving morning via JetBlue from New York City. Susan and I (mostly Susan) prepared a salad and landed at “Nana's House” only about 15 minutes late, which is within the margin of error for us.
Nana is our adopted grandmother. She and Pop Kiley stepped right in when our folks passed. Kevin Kiley, Nana and Pop's son, has been part of our family since before our girls were born. Peter and Michael, Kevin's brothers, rounded out the table spots for our special feast. No one was disappointed. Michael added wonderful treats as a fine foods preparer with special international touches.
After we ate, some of us flopped into various “over stuffed” comfy chairs and couches. Nana's house faces west over the river, and with our new earlier absence of daylight, the mid-afternoon meal dovetailed nicely with flat calm water in the bay and a pleasant glowing, which I detected from my station next to the wood stove.
I reluctantly pried myself up and scurried out to see how the light was settling into our view. The buildings of town were nicely lit and generously reflected in the cove adjacent to Nana's house.
I got the dead battery signal from the camera and lens of choice. Popping the battery into my pants pocket to warm it up, I excused myself and crossed the neighbor's yard perching on the shore. No tripod, just hold breath, ramp up ISO and hope. I got two chances and the battery pooped out.
We'd had a great day. Thank you Nana and family.