Yesterday, I went to Pad Thai Too in Waterville to have lunch with Ali, who is engaging, friendly, and down-to-earth. She’s a master gardener who manages to grow astonishing amounts of vegetables on an in-town lot. (Those who are looking to reduce the cost of their grocery bill should take note—-growing your own food really makes a difference.) She also has hens. Our conversation ranged from family to gardening to cooking to politics. She enquired after the girls and Liam. I asked about her home renovations, and we chatted with the ease of old friends. But here’s the thing—we aren’t old friends. Yesterday was the first time we had ever met. But in a sense, we are old friends, having met several years ago through our blogs—Henbogle and A Good Eater. We’ve been wanting to get together for lunch for some time, and finally, we did.

Blogs are curious things. There is a wide variety of blogs, which include online columns for newspapers and magazines as well as the musings of everyday people about their lives and the things that interest them. My blog and Ali’s blog fall into the latter category, and we follow each other’s blogs because of our similar interests. In an earlier time, letters might have been the vehicle for this kind of friendship, but today we have the computer, which allows communities—around the state, around the country, around the world—to form based around those similar interests.

“I’d really like to organize a get together for Maine bloggers,” Ali said.

“That would be so much fun,” I replied.

And we also agreed that we’d like to get together for lunch again, when schedules allow.

Now, what about the food at Pad Thai Too? It was very tasty indeed. I had a combination platter of spring rolls, vegetarian fried rice, satay, and dumplings. I ate every bit of it.

Ali had Khao Soi, a soup with chicken (tofu is also an option), crispy noodles, soft noodles, mustard greens, red and yellow curry, and coconut milk. It looked so good that I vowed to order it the next time I went to Pad Thai Too.

All in all, a very good day with great food and even better company.

My husband, Clif, and I used to go out to eat on Valentine’s Day, but after a few times, we both decided it was no fun. The restaurants were packed, the service wasn’t that good, and overall, our experience was mediocre at best and pricy to boot. So nowadays my Valentine’s present to Clif is a meal of his choice, from beginning to end. As long as there is a box of chocolates in the mix—preferably from See’s—neither of us regrets this decision.

This year, Clif made things quite easy—barbecue beef, baked potatoes, corn, and Pepperidge Farm chocolate turnovers for dessert. (Readers, these turnovers are fantastic! You can find them in the frozen-food section of the grocery store.) I don’t cook beef very often, so I had to search the Internet for a recipe, and I found this one on Food.com. 

I liked the combination of spices and flavors of the Food.com recipe, and as soon as I post this piece, I’ll be getting the beef ready for the crockpot. By midafternoon, the house will be fragrant with the smell of cooking beef. I’ll also be making homemade bread, and this, too, will add to the aromas that will greet Clif when he comes home. Since I plan on taking the dog for a walk in the woods today, I’ll also get to smell these good things when I come in from the walk.

I’m a great believer in celebrating events big and small. Celebrations perk up our lives. They add a much-needed zip to all the work of everyday life, no matter how satisfying that work might be. However, especially on Valentine’s Day, those who are single can feel a little left out, so I would like to share a quotation from Ida LeClair, whom I have recently written about: “If you don’t have a sweetie right now, be your own sweetie, and do something nice for yourself today. You’re worth it!”

Right on, Ida!

Saturday was one those finest kind of days, as we say in Maine, where the whole day was filled with one delight after another. First, we met with our friends Susan Poulin and Gordon Carlisle, for lunch at Nosh in Portland and then tea at Whole Foods. Susan and Gordon have managed to do the nearly impossible—make a living through their artistic endeavors. Gordon is a talented painter, muralist, set designer, and composer. He also does funky collages. Heck, he can even sing really well. In my last post, I wrote about Susan, her alter ego Ida LeClair, and “Ida’s” new book, Finding Your Inner Moose.

Oh, the conversation just zipped along! So much so that we had to be reminded to study the menu so that we could order. But order we did, eventually, and in between ordering and eating, we talked about all the things I love to talk about—art, politics, movies, and personal history. Clif even slipped in a bit of computer talk. Gordon told us of a bike trek he went on—many years ago—through Europe. He carried portable art supplies with him, and along the way, he would stop and paint and send the paintings back home to sell.

“What a wonderful thing to have done,” I said.

“Yes,” Gordon replied. “And to have the time and the freedom.”

Something we don’t always have as we grow older, that’s for sure.

We talked about Susan’s book and the many readings she has done over the past several months.

One of the things I especially like about Gordon and Susan is that they are good listeners as well as good conversationalists. They asked us about our lives and our projects, too.

The food at Nosh was a mixed bag, at least for Clif and me. I really liked my burger, which included a garlic sauce, bacon, a fried egg, and blue cheese.

Clif was not as impressed with his Chinese barbecue pork sandwich—too much lettuce, not enough pork, and an insipid sauce. The fries, hand-cut and “dusted” with bacon, were a hit all around. Gordon asked me to take a picture of him pointing at a very pink beet dish on his plate, and so I did.

It was also a bit pricey—$35 for two sandwiches, two soft drinks, and an order of fries. But never mind! Getting together with Susan and Gordon was such a blast that it made up for any culinary disappointments.

After that, it was over to our daughter Shannon and her husband, Mike’s, home for a delectable dinner of roast beef, carrots, and potatoes. Holly the puppy kept us entertained, and there was more movie talk.

A pretty much perfect day for Clif and me, but when I got home, what did I find but a lovely pair of earrings in the mail. They were designed by the talented Joan Vermette of Biddeford, Maine, and the name of her business is Biddeford Bead Lab.

I wore the earrings yesterday, and I am wearing them today. I love them so much that I will probably wear them tomorrow. Here is what they look like.

Susan, Gordon, and Joan made me reflect on the various talented people I know, people who are living the creative life.  It is a pleasure to support them, in my own little way, to give their presents as gifts, whenever I can, and to even buy myself a thing or two from time to time.

Let’s hear it for the creative life. It’s not always an easy life, but it is a life that is rich in many ways.

Three times a year, my daughter Shannon, our friend Kate, and I get together in Portland to celebrate our birthdays. The “birthday girl” gets to choose the restaurant, and we give each other little presents. The meal is usually followed by gelato at Whole Foods, and it’s a great afternoon, something we all look forward.

This year, schedules did not allow us to get together in September—my birthday is mid-September—and the best time for everyone was late October. It didn’t matter one bit. As Shannon noted, “We’re not 6 years old.” No, we certainly are not.

Portland has such a wealth of restaurants that finding someplace good is not at all hard. In the past few years, we’ve only had 1 disappointment—The Merry Table—and our success rate is a testament to all the terrific places there are to eat in Portland. For this outing, I picked Sonny’s on Exchange Street, and we hit pay dirt yet again—the food and the prices were equally good. Once upon a time, the building was a bank, and the restaurant has high ceilings, wood, brick, large windows, and a wonderful view of a park, golden in late autumn.

Sonny’s feature’s Latin and Southwestern dishes, using as much fresh, local food as they can. According to their website, all their food is cooked from scratch, including their bread and desserts. And that’s exactly how it tastes. I had Johnny’s tri-pork Cuban sandwich, and as the name suggests, there were three kinds of pork on a handmade roll. Very tasty. As were the homemade chips that came with the sandwich. The chips were lightly spiced, lightly salted, and very crisp. I could have easily eaten another handful. Kate had roast beef, Shannon had a hamburger, and both were more than happy with their choices.

“We should come here again,” Kate said as we stared out the window at the glorious day.

We all agreed. However, when the next birthday rolls around—Shannon’s—it’s my guess that we’ll pick something different. After all, we’ll be in Portland. How can we resist the temptation to try someplace where we’ve never eaten?

Yesterday, at a party, I met a woman named Liberty who lives on a tiny island in one of our town’s many lakes. The island is close enough to shore so that Liberty’s front porch winks at you through the pine trees that surround it, and in the late afternoon, as the sun sets, the island positively glows. It is one of those islands that draws your eye and captures your attention in a warm, welcoming way. Not all islands are like this. I’ve been on one that was downright spooky, and I couldn’t wait to leave. I guess islands all have their own mood, some good, some not so good.

Liberty is as warm and beautiful as the island she lives on—perhaps there is a connection?—and I spent quite a bit of time talking to her. In the course of our conversation, Liberty told me how she came to live on this island during the summer, and it’s a story worth sharing.

In the late 1920s, Liberty’s grandparents and aunts and uncles came to Winthrop, Maine, for their summer vacation. This was at a time when the journey was made by train to the lake and then by steamboat to a big hotel built especially to accommodate those summer visitors. The passenger train, the steamboat, and the big hotel are all gone, and in this day of cars and chain hotels, it really feels like a trip to the past to picture people coming to Winthrop by train and boat.

While on vacation, Liberty’s family canoed around the lake and came upon the island, which just happened to be for sale at a very good price. The family pooled their money together and bought the island, complete with house, in the summer of 1929, just before the stock market crashed in October.

“They bought it just in time,” Liberty said.

They certainly did, but what makes this story even more extraordinary is that Liberty’s family came from Harlem, and they were, of course, African American. Winthrop, like most Maine towns, was white as white can be, and with only a few exceptions, it still is. Also, during the 1920s and 1930s, the Klan was very big in Maine—only Georgia had a bigger membership.

Craig Hickman, who was at the party and who is also African American, said, “Just think, in the late 1920s, a black family bought an island in Winthrop, Maine.”

It is indeed amazing to think about, and although Winthrop has its share of problems and cranks—don’t get me started about how the school budget has twice been voted down—it is also an amazingly tolerant town. You can be pretty eccentric and different in this mostly meat-and-potatoes town, and nobody bothers you. In fact, the town’s people might even like you and invite you to parties.

“Maybe Winthrop has had a history of being tolerant,” my husband, Clif, observed.

Maybe it has. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to get into an in-depth conversation with Liberty about whether her family had to deal with discrimination in town. But Liberty has invited me to come visit her on her island, and as I don’t own a boat, she has even offered to fetch me. Perhaps I’ll take her up on her offer, if not this summer, which is fast coming to an end, then maybe next summer.