Every morning we escort our pup to the back door and out to a small fenced in area for her daily contribution to the Earth’s surface. She’s not pushy at all about this, in fact if truth be known, it’s quite possible she prefers the warmer interior of our house. Thank goodness she has learned it is not appropriate to deliver anything inside, for which we are grateful. Took some time to get her trained but nice she has figured things out. She actually rings a bell when she wants to go out!

Bill Kirby came to Boothbay Harbor in 1988 on a road trip with his father. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but he liked the area, close to the ocean and less complicated than the world in which he had lived for much of his life.

It was a wild and raucous ride during last week’s storm. Aggressive surf, high wind gusts, splash over with big tides caused a lot ofdamage. Several places I visit escaped major damage but did not go unscathed.

The recent snow reminds me of winter, a season with which I have a love-hate relationship.

I love it for its transformative qualities and I hate it because I spend so much time removing something that eventually goes away on its own. That’s it in a nutshell.

The Opera House has always been a big community center, if for no other reason than it’s one of Boothbay Harbor’s largest buildings, located smack dab in the middle of town on one of our main thoroughfares. The builders knew what they were doing – high visibility and easy access. Eventually, the building, constructed as a meeting place for the local chapter of the Knights of Pythias, has taken on many new roles, from public roller skating rink, to basketball court, minstrel shows, and now a vibrant and successful venue for a multitude of community events.

For almost 20 years our trip to the local Hannaford market was made more delightful by the sound of Ruthie McLellan’s laughter. We always chose her checkout line. In those days when it seemed that grocery carts were less weaponized by strangers, we always knew that there was a bit of local joy awaiting us at the cash register staffed by the one and only!

Those items in the water are not errant pot buoys, floating logs, ducks, seals, or water buffalo! They are people.

This is not a hoax! These are real people in real cold ocean water. Really!

Schooner Ernestina-Morrissey departed her Boothbay Harbor berth at the Hodgdon pier (formerly Wotton’s Wharf) on Thursday, Nov. 17, at around 3:15 p.m.

After many years of rebuilding and restoration the ship heads to her new/old home in New Bedford, Massachusetts, where she has been designated by the Department of Interior as a National Historic Landmark and part of the New Bedford Whaling National Historic Park.

During recent rich and enveloping autumn fogs, our neighborhood was transformed.

Fog has a way of isolating and emphasizing portions of our vision. Through no fault of its own, fog causes us to see less, and for me, less is more. I love to photograph in the fog. It helps me notice things, ironically, more clearly. Fog makes a busy scene calm. It’s magic!

When our oldest daughter was in college we always enjoyed the trips over to visit. Route 101 to Keene, through Brattleboro, over the “Hogback” to beautiful Bennington. It was an interesting drive, winding at times and treacherous in winter, but none-the-less quite a departure from our Maine home.

First off, let me point out that the image shared today has nothing to do with what I have written. The photo was made in 2019 over the Isle of Springs on my way back from a job, returning to Wiscasset Municipal Airport. It was around this time of year which is why I have chosen it for this week’s offering.

“I struck my first arc when I was 9 years old,” said Liz Richmond during a recent visit outside her Boothbay apartment. As a child she was visiting a friend, watching her father work on an old pickup. He told her, “If you’re gonna own one, you should know how to fix it!” She was fascinated and particularly intrigued by some welding he was doing and asked if she could try it. Reluctantly the man set her up with the welding gear and let her have a go. He was impressed, and told her that she should be a welder. She ran a perfect bead. It was the beginning of a lifelong journey that she never could have imagined.

OK ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s yet again time for Uncle Mitchell to add “Memories” to my list of offbeat recollections.

I have always been fascinated by cemeteries, graveyards and/or burial grounds. I think, for me, it’s a way to stay connected to those who have gone before us – a way to appreciate the past. These places, no matter what we call them, are historical collections which provide a walking tour of history. A glimpse into the unknown, or the partially known. A look back.

In this space, many times over the years, I have mentioned some of my favorite places to visit and revisit. Well, Sheepscot is one of those places.

Twenty-five or so years ago while doing some promotional work for AGFA, I met an outstanding salesperson, photographer and ex-employee of Fuji, a company well known in the film and camera world. We chatted and visited and kept in touch. Fuji made a camera that I always wanted to try out (back in the film days) called a GX617. It was a medium format panoramic hulk of a thing that used roll film and cut a negative that was/is two and a quarter inches by almost seven inches – a beautiful thing, especially when viewing transparency (slide) film.

I was cleaning up some dishes at the kitchen sink after lunch last week and noticed a car pull into the bottom of the driveway. We have found this to be a fairly common occurrence as people override a GPS device or become confused by our abandoned tricycle mounted atop a salvaged boulder. Sometimes a GPS misleads drivers from foreign lands as they seek the ferry terminal at Newagen on Route 27 South, hoping to find a more direct path to Portland!

Before anyone calls up the Register to complain about the quality of my image this week, please be advised that it’s not the printer’s fault. I did it!

From the first moment of my visit with Nikki Emerson, the current but about to be, past, manager of Boothbay Harbor’s Hannaford store, I was quite surprised by her connection with the staff. From our greeting in the parking lot, through the produce section to the inner workings of the stocking area, she greeted workers by name and engaged in meaningful conversation. Not just “Hi, how are you?”, but personal discourse regarding their job, their family or some other inquiry of significance. It became very obvious to me that Nikki truly had genuine interest in her coworkers.

The crunch is on! Businesses are in a corner for help. Many of the seasonal workers have departed. There are help wanted signs all over the place. Some operations have actually had to close due to lack of help. Signs requesting patience from customers can be seen on business entrance doors. It’s a tough situation, especially this time of year. Committed staff is often worn out and with less help, being asked to work more hours and more days.

When I was asked to document the Ernestina-Morrissey project the old Sample yard was under new ownership. Skip Rideout had Florida on his mind, his barge with crane, stationed at the shipyard, doing some work for a Washburn & Doughty railway rebuild, a dedicated crew in tow. Larry Colcord was managing editor and not yet a real estate tycoon, still doing some lawn maintenance work on the side. The Ernestina-Morrissey was in early stages of evaluation with some assessment of work to be done. Nobody was exactly certain about the extent of repairs. I had no clue. The yard needed work. Updates and general repairs evident. A work staff was being assembled and preparations, behind the scenes, for possible sale of the yard bubbling up. Many things were uncertain. The project was a bit complicated. It was an interesting arrangement with Massachusetts which held some challenges – a Massachusetts ship being worked on at a Maine yard. The ship was on the big railway which pretty much constituted a commitment.

First off, before I launch into this week’s adventure, I’d like to mention that I mowed our lawns for the first time in over six weeks! Well, let me clarify. What I mowed wasn’t really grass. It was more like a survivalist side show of weeds, i.e., things that have managed to “grow” during the dryness of this summer. Not a very pretty lot – popping up items seldom seen in good weather days. I’m talking about long-stemmed things with puffs at the top, brown, yellow and orange in color along with Queen Anne’s lace and prickly tormenteds.