New fantasy: We buy a bunch of abandoned vacation cottages and spend our days kayaking and writing and avoiding the man-dogs and other wildlife.
I haven't showered since Friday. I slept from 8 p.m. to 9 a.m. last night (and today). I skinned my face. I think I will write a longer post about Maine later, but I'll tell the face-skinning story in this one:
Echo Lake is beautiful. You can see through the water all the way to the rocky, sharp bottom. Abby hopped from rock to rock; she can be startlingly athletic. I tried to follow suit--except I was wearing flip-flops; also, I am clumsy. The little tree I grabbed to keep me from sliding into the water gave way, and I belly flopped into very shallow water, slamming my face into a small boulder. I passed out a little bit.
Now, I have a gnarly scrape and bruise on my chin and a very sore jaw and neck muscles. I am not dead! Hooray!
P.S. The pictured chupacabra is hotter than Bruce Springsteen and John Mayer combined.
P.P.S (or is it P.S.S.?) I'm glad to be back.