Andrei Bazaiac was born in Stefanesti, Romania, in December of 1988, almost exactly one year before the revolution that ended Communist Ceausescu's crippling stranglehold on the country. From 1947 until 1989, the Romanian people lost properties and freedom creating rampant fear and distrust. It was a very disabling time.

We arrived at the main entrance of St. Andrews Village at 12:03 p.m. to pick up John Druce. We found him standing outside at the curb chatting with an attractive young lady, knowing that he had probably been there since 11:45 a.m. It’s a Marine thing.

My father, also a Marine, was of similar disposition — being late for anything meant time in the brig.

What a privilege to witness the release of two snowy owls on Fisherman's Island. One flew east and one went north. The east flyer landed on a roof top, looking around, maybe hoping to reunite with its partner. It was promptly greeted by dive bombing crows, but did seem to fend off the attack, as far as we could tell.

Back in the early ’90s, a whole gang of us from the area car pooled to Sheepscot Valley Children’s House in Wiscasset. There were at least eight kiddos from four or five different families. We’d meet at what is now the Back River Road parking lot of Clifford Playground. Everybody had a day for driving and anytime there was a complication, somebody would cover. It was quite a free-for-all when everybody landed with said cargo — car seats, lunches, backup clothing for those unforeseen moments, and lots of chatter from children and parents.

TheErnestina-Morrisseyproject at the old Sample’s Shipyard continues to amaze me.

Recently I got to witness what I think is one of the coolest events ever --- the installation of the “starboard garboard.” The above photo shows mounting the port garboard, however.

The Southport Fire Department meets regularly once a month, and more often when updates and training are needed/required.

This time of year we generally don't do much in the way of outdoor training, due to the shortness of the day, but instead, check and repair equipment at the station. Cold-weather firefighting can take quite a toll on engines and mechanical equipment.

Kevin Kiley and Paul Noah helped us create the most extraordinary Halloweens.

When we lived in the Harbor at the top of Sherman Street, our house became a glowing graveyard of cobwebbed skeletons, howling wolves and a community parade of little goblins and super heroes. It was one of the most festive events of our year, shared by friends and strangers alike. Even Marylouise Cowan visited one year in a phenomenal witch outfit, accompanied by me dressed as a Texas cowboy!

June Elderkin makes a mean blueberry coffee cake. When I visit, if the blueberries are in at Hannaford, there's a good chance for fresh baked goods. So, I got a little anxious when Finn Carroll, who was doing some tree work for June, told me that he had great blueberry coffee cake with her, just prior to my visit.

I was all set with my “Register” adventure for this week and brewing my second cup of Vallejo coffee, produced by our friend Cris, of California. His coffee is terrific.

As my dollup of raw honey properly dissolved in the morning joe, I recalled, for some unknown reason, that I had been asked to refill the bird feeder. My coffee steeped. Opening the back door of the barn, with an open sack of some song bird mix in hand, I was surprised and delighted to see the new snow that had arrived during the night. The snow coated everything creating a fairyland effect. The sun was just starting to break through the clouds. Increasing temperature would bring melting quickly.

How many of you have ever wondered where the Boothbay Register (and Wiscasset Newspaper) comes from? That's what I thought.

For this week’s issue of the “Bob files,” I’ve decided to dig back into some of my more recent digital archives and share an image not often seen this time of year by many of us.

It was a big music weekend.

Our daughter and her husband traveled to New York City’s Radio City Music Hall for a “Khalid” concert. Not the Rockettes but according to Morgan and Andrei, a great show!

Bill Harris was one of the nicest persons I have known to walk the streets of Boothbay Harbor. Quite literally, he walked. As long as I knew Bill, he never drove a car. He may have told me why that was, but honestly, the reason escapes me. In some ways, I suspect, he didn't feel the need for a car. Just one more thing to bother with. Bill had plenty of things going on, with no lack of new ideas constantly bubbling up in his unique and creative mind. He was an institution at the Boothbay Register!

I had pretty much adjusted to what seemed to be our winter. My personal thermostat was set with steps taken to accept the inevitable. 

This time of year really stresses our heating systems.

Most of the year, those of us who heat with oil, never think twice about “The Furnace.”

It’s down there in the basement, or out there in the garage. Asleep, awaiting a call to duty that many of us have taken for granted.

The cold has managed to get a lot of attention for many reasons, many of them not terrific. One item, however, that seems to be quite popular is the daily sea smoke performances that occur on every waterway along the coast and presumably offshore.

The shows have been quite magnificent as can be seen by the many posting on social media. One might have been said, back in the day, “People are really getting smoked up!”

Lonny Sisson painted many local scenes during his years as an artist in Boothbay Harbor. He and his family lived just off Bay Street on the East side. One of the views from his house overlooked Barrett’s Park and Linekin Bay. He could walk down over the hill, cross Lobster Cove Road, and paint until the cows came home.

Although this person is not Santa Claus, she is probably as well known, locally, as old Saint Nick, and way easier to reach by phone. She and her elves have led the way, hands down, in year-round gift production and far and away the most prolific gift producer in the region today. No one even comes close.

Tis the season of the earliest sunset and what better place to watch it happen than “Sunset Rock“on the shores of Sheepscot Bay?

But as an old and dear friend would have said, “That weren’t much.”

Quite honestly, it was rather anticlimactic.

I don’t really know a lot about food. For much of my life I ate because fuel is needed to run the engine. I was not particularly adventuresome. Growing up in the hills of central Pennsylvania and working hard physically required lots of calories. We were largely meat and potatoes folk ... with an occasional infusion of excessive ice cream!