many things make a post
actual knitting content: mitten fail

there are no squirrels on squirrel island

Last weekend, one of Scott's many cousins got himself hitched to a fine woman with a fine name, which is also, coincidentally, Adrienne. Her family has a house on Squirrel Island. It's not far from Boothbay Harbor, Maine. It is also just damn scenic.


See what I mean? We got a little lost on the way back to the ferry and stumbled out of the forest and into this view. 

After the wedding, which was lovely and full of appropriate joy, we wandered over to the Island's Fairy Forest, where generations of islanders have built houses for woodland folk out of found objects.



The Boy could not resist knocking on the fairies' doors.


While the Diva scampered about and rang a small fairy bell necklace our friend Quinn (more about her later) let her wear. 


The reception was back on the mainland at the Spruce Point Inn, which is also just damn scenic. 


The bouquets, whose combination of flowers in disparate blues and greens charmed me.


Scenic, yes?

The Boy did well and kept his dress up clothes on for most of the event. He also wore a watch because his new thing is to ask "what time is it?" every 30 seconds. With the watch, he can figure it out for himself. 


And he really wants the camera. Nothing is as fun as taking pictures. 


Like this one, which the Boy snapped the day previous when we went to the Bath farmer's market.


In Maine, there are more varieties of potatoes than I've seen before.


We stayed near Bath with Quinn and Jeremy and their two kids. Q and J are friends that we've had since college who we don't get to see often enough. A lovely time was had.

This is Quinn, btw. She'll turn up in Sweater Quest. So now you know.


We were at Reid State Park, clambering around on rocks, which is how we spent the summer, it seems.

This picture amuses me. 


Quinn and Jer's kids, staring out at the waves, all pre-teen and somber, as a little pastel sprite (with umbrella, natch) sneaks up on them. It's a grand metaphor for something. I'm just not sure what.


Lovely photos. Looks like a great trip.

It was a great trip. I did forget to mention the one downside of Maine, which are mosquitos the size of housecats. Fat, flying housecats that want to suck the blood clean out of you.

Other than that, tho, I love Maine.

I often feel like a somber pre-teen--a little on the Goth side--with a pastel sprite chasing after me. No one has ever described that feeling so well.

OMG, you mean Sebastian and Rowan are taller than 2 feet already?!?!

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