In Maine, the end of August usually heralds the end of summer, despite what the calendar might say, and indeed here and there, the leaves have started to turn. Accordingly, Clif and I decided to invite friends over for the last cocktail party of summer. (What a sad ring that has!)

Since learning to make them for our Fourth of July party, Clif and I have become proficient at making Moscow mules and our very own Maine mules. The nice thing about both drinks, which take vodka and ginger beer or ginger ale—the Moscow mules—or vodka and seltzer water—the Maine mules—is that when you’ve had enough, say, after a couple of drinks, you can then turn to plain ginger ale or seltzer water for a refreshing drink.

The weather was splendid, and we were able to host the party on the patio, one of my favorite places. We filled the cooler with soft drinks and tucked it under the round glass table. On top, we had glasses for everyone as well as a bucket of ice, sliced limes, maple syrup, and, of course, vodka. Those drinks don’t contain the word mule for nothing.

Then we gathered around the rectangular glass table. There were six of us—Margy and Steve, Cheryl and Denny, Clif and me. The day before, I had made crackers, and I served them with a homemade cream-cheese spread made with roasted garlic and basil. There were chips and salsa. Grapes. Those luscious peaches. And, of course, Clif’s legendary grilled bread.

“I was hoping you’d make grilled bread,” Steve said as he grabbed a hot piece of bread.

I am not kidding when I call Clif’s grilled bread legendary. It truly is, at least in the Winthrop area.

As we ate, the crickets sang. Birds came to the feeders, and Liam barked at noises we sometimes heard but most often didn’t. We talked about many things—the conversation never flags when we get together—but we spent a fair amount of time rhapsodizing about the poet Richard Blanco.

We also discussed how it was time for the state to stop trying to lure big businesses to Maine. This seldom ends well. If businesses can be lured into the state, then they can be lured out of the state. Instead, we all agreed that it was much more sensible to support small businesses run by local people and to help local businesses grow into larger businesses. There is never any guarantee that these businesses will succeed, but at least they will not be heading for parts of the country, or the world, where the labor is cheaper.

Gardiner is an example of how a city can support its own through various grants and tax breaks and reverse a decline that started when the great factories closed.  (Note: The link may include some irritating pop-ups, but the information is worthwhile.) Not so long ago, Gardiner’s main street was dotted with far too many vacant buildings. Now, with more businesses opening their doors, the main street looks decidedly more lively.

And, let’s face it, any city that is able to attract Frosty’s Donuts is on the right track.

Today our friends Judy and Paul came over for coffee, tea, and homemade brownies. Judy’s brother and sister-in-law, visiting from Connecticut, came, too. Clif and I always enjoy meeting new people, and we had a great time getting to know Judy’s brother and sister-in-law. But especially exciting for this foodie was what Judy’s family brought from Connecticut—a basket of  ripe peaches from a local orchard.  (As opposed to the not-so-ripe peaches on sale at the local grocery store.)

Now, I have a sweet tooth, and I can’t think of a single fruit I don’t like. However, peaches are way, way at the top of my list, and this Maine girl doesn’t get tree-ripened peaches very often. It is a very happy day when I do get them.

Amazingly enough, in recent years, a few peach orchards have been established in Maine. Climate change combined with varieties developed to withstand the cold have brought peach orchards to this northern state. While there have always been individual trees that have managed to thrive in select micro-climates in Maine, there were never actual orchards. Unfortunately, the local peach orchards are quite a distance from where I live, and I don’t get them very often.

How good it is, then, to have friends who have family who are willing to bring peaches to me.

Peaches, peaches, peaches. As soon as everyone left, I grabbed a peach and ate it. From the first bite, it was sheer bliss—soft but not too soft, sweet and juicy. I gobbled it down without offering Liam even one bite, and it was only when I was done that I noticed him staring reproachfully at me. He likes peaches nearly as much as I do.

“Don’t you worry,” I told him. “There are plenty more. I promise I’ll share some of the next one with you.”

And I did.

In central Maine, the Fourth was not sunny. Instead, it was overcast, but it didn’t rain, and it wasn’t blindingly hot. Friends and family came over, and we were able to spend much of our time on the patio.

Alice brought two packages of her homemade sourdough bread, which Clif grilled. We fell upon that bread like hungry crows, and soon nothing was left. Jill brought a flag appetizer, and that, too, was promptly eaten. One thing is certain; we are all good eaters. (Jill, that semicolon is for you.)

Unfortunately, as hostess, I did not have the chance to take as many pictures as I would have liked. However, I did get Alice’s salad in shells, and I am hoping a recipe will follow.

Last but certainly not least, Diane brought lemon-curd tarts that were positively addictive. I couldn’t stop with just one.

We talked about many things—movies and the upcoming Maine International Film Festival was a big topic of discussion—but I am happy to report that we discussed the Declaration of Independence, the ratifying of the constitution, and George Washington’s reluctance to become president.

I was also able to tell a fun library story. The day before, on July 3, I was doing errands around town and listening to National Public Radio. On the way to the town’s transfer station, I heard an interview with Joseph Ellis who in his book The Quartet tells “the unexpected story of why the thirteen colonies, having just fought off the imposition of a distant centralized governing power, would decide to subordinate themselves anew. ” Ellis “argues the Constitutional Convention and creation of a viable nation-state was a top-down process, instigated and orchestrated by four prominent leaders.”

Sounded like an interesting book to me, and after going to the transfer station, I went to the library where—lo and behold—The Quartet was available.  I was very impressed that within a span of ten minutes, I had heard of this  book for the first time and then had it in my hot little hands. At our Fourth of July party, I was even able to share a George Washington quotation from the book: “I am so wedded to a state of retirement and find the occupations of a rural life so congenial with my feelings, that to be drawn in public life at this advanced age would be a sacrifice that could afford no compensation.” (It seems he was truly reluctant to become president.)

So there. Food, family, friends, and a bit of history about the founding of our country.

And, of course, beer, courtesy of my son-in-law Mike who works at Craft Beer Cellar in Portland.

Between the beer and the Moscow and Maine mules, ’twas a very merry Fourth of July.