Rockland, Maine: Cafe Miranda.

Cafe Miranda, located in the coastal town of Rockland, Maine, may be the coolest restaurant at which I have ever had the pleasure of dining. Kerry, the owner, lovingly named the establishment after his beloved dog, Miranda. To put it mildly, Kerry is an interesting dude. He has a love of fresh food, cooking, flamingos and Elvis. And all of these passions are on display at this tiny little place on a nondescript street in Rockland. 

Hopefully you'll have made reservations because by 6:00pm this patio is packed.

The first thing you notice is the absolutely overwhelming menu that changes weekly. The side shown in this photo is just the appetizers and salads - go ahead and prepare for an ADD meltdown.





The reverse side is equally packed with entrees - or more appropriately named, a "party in your mouth."





I don't remember what the heck either The Canadian or I ordered but I know that there was some impressive calamari in TC's dish. Just look at the legs on that little guy!

Just to give you a little insight into the uniqueness of Cafe Miranda's mentality each table is adorned with a different set of random garage sale salt and pepper shakers. There are eggs, Jamacian men, teddy bears,  Mr. and Mrs. Claus, bananas, Indian elephants, and many more. 

While TC and I were eating we caught the eye of Kerry, the owner, and invited him to sit and chat with us. After filling us in on the history of Miranda the conversation somehow turned to their staff and the hiring process. He ended up sharing with us the questions potential employees must answer on the application. If I didn't already love this place, then the application really sealed the deal.

Name:

Age:

(blah, blah, blah....)

Number of beers in a 6 pack: **the answer is NOT 6. More like '5 for me and 1 for you'

If you were a car what would you be:

Mode of transportation (circle one): car, bike, thumb, shoes, flying saucer, other

If you weren't human what would you be: (rock, saxaphone, animal, ect)

What would you rather be doing right now:

Any schooling that makes a difference:

Last 3 meals:

It is said that you are what you eat, what are you: 

Seriously, try and answer those questions. It's not easy. It takes a lot of thought. Just off the top of my head, I think I would be a truck, my mode of transportation would definitely be fairy wings, I would rather be playing at the lake, if I am what I eat then I am a coffee bean or a grape, and if I weren't human I'm pretty sure I would be a tree. No wait, a bird. Or maybe an airplane. I don't really know. I'm going to have to think about this...

Anyway, next time you find yourself wandering aimlessly in central Maine go ahead and stop by to visit Kerry. It's a guaranteed good time and excellent meal.

Boat Races. Cardboard and Milk Carton Style.

What does this look like to you? A box? Well, you're half right. In its former life it was a box. Probably used for transporting cereal or frozen chicken nuggets. In its new life this box is a boat made lovingly by an 8 year old boy using only the cardboard, empty milk cartons and packing tape. 

You see, at the camp where The Canadian and I have spent all summer working we are always trying to come up with new innovative activities to entertain our campers. And sometimes the usual lacrosse, water skiing, archery and campfires aren't exciting enough for our youngest male campers. They need to build and create and compete. Enter the boat building contest.

The kids spend several days working with our swim counselors to build their boats.

Some may call these boats masterpieces of engineering brilliance. Pretty impressive for a team of 2nd graders don't you think?

I mean, I'm impressed. I don't think I could build something that spectacular myself.

When building is finally over and race day dawns the kids are ready and chaos reigns. Each boat building team chooses one member to captain the boat and the captain is given a paddle to power their boat. Their goal is to row their boat across the designated swimming area -- a total of about 30 feet.

The kids begin to line up and organize themselves. 

The boats are put in the water at the sound of the whistle to ensure fairness as they could potentially become water logged very quickly.

When the final whistle sounds, they're off!

Almost immediately Chris the Counselor's boat capsizes. It would appear he is a bit too big for his boat. 

Boom! Another one bites the dust a few feet into the race.

Another boat is struggling but David steps in to make the save.

This little guy had it figured out from the beginning when he built himself a simple raft. 

Oh dear. This guy has definitely seen better days. 

It's official. Every boat has lost it's shape, taken on water and appears to slowly be going down.

Paddles are abandoned and the boys proceed to swim/drag their boat to the finish line.

Perseverance at it's finest. After all, this is what camp is all about -- building character.

But what is this? Marcus the Counselor is still intact and afloat! I'm not entirely sure how Marcus got in the race seeing as there were age restrictions...but still, his boat survived in one piece. 

We may have to build a bronze sculpture to memorialize this aquatic success. The bar has been raised. Good luck to next years competitors.

Flyin' Over Camp.

In case you weren't aware, I've been in Maine for the summer where The Canadian and I spend our time working at camp. In this line of work we get a lot of perks and meet some pretty awesome people. Case in point: our good friend Hilary (remember her from the Airhead Challenge?), her dad and his float plane. 

That's right. You heard correctly.

One evening Hilary's dad, David, decided to hop in his plane and head on down to Maine from the great province of Nova Scotia. Ya know, because its no big deal to fly across international borders to come visit your daughter and her buddies. No. Big. Deal.

He cruised into camp flying a 1946 Piper float plane and landed on our sailing beach like it was totally normal. Meanwhile the rest of us are standing in total awe watching this Charlie Brown colored plane float right up on our shores.

After we all picked our jaws up off the ground we greeted David and acted as nonchalantly as possible. Inside everyone I was dying to ask for a ride in the plane but trying to play it cool on the outside. I'm sure he didn't notice.

David took The Canadian up in the plane first. He didn't have much time before sunset but since TC had helped him beach the plane he offered him a quick ride. 

Starting this thing is no easy task. The propeller has to be cranked manually to get it going...while standing outside the plane on the pontoons. Again, no biggie. Totally normal and non-scary.

 

As David floats away he keeps cranking the prop until it starts. 

Just so we're clear, this is a running plane whose pilot is standing outside of the vehicle. Are you with me, here?

He did eventually get in the plane, but not before I had a small heart attack and said a quick prayer that my wonderful husband would be able to learn how to pilot the plane in the event that David fell in the water.

They eventually landed safely and my heart rate returned to normal. The Canadian proceeded to jump out of the plane and announce that the flight was the coolest thing he had ever experienced. And he decided right then and there that he is going to need to obtain his own pilot license and immediately purchase a float plane of his own. Gee, David, have I thanked you for inspiring my husband??

The next morning David was planning to take one of our camp photographers up in the plane for a quick buzz over camp. I decided to show up also just to grab some photos of the take off and landing. Why? So I could write a blog. Obviously.

When the plane returned and pulled up on the beach David hopped out and offered me a ride. He explained that it would not be fair to my marriage if The Canadian and I didn't have equal life experiences and I therefore needed to go up for a quick trip to grab some photos. Grudgingly (not), I agreed and climbed in the plane. 

David performed the same ritual as before; he manually spun the prop and had me hold the cables to steer the rudder. He finally hopped in the plane and we were on our way to fly over camp.  

As we ascended from the lake camp immediately sprawled out below us. David left the door open so I could get photos.

Camp from that level was truly unbelievable.

The tennis courts looked so impressive. You can see one of our soccer fields at one end and all the girls cabins surrounding the courts. The pond you see is lovingly referred to as Frog Pond due to the astronomical amounts of bullfrogs that inhabit it.

And the surrounding lakes were amazing.

I was so proud of how the waterfront appeared. The swim lanes are strait, the canoes and kayaks are stacked, the crew boat was in place, the sail boats are moored, and further down where you can't see the ski boats are in their slips....all was well in my world.





I could have flown over it one hundred times and never gotten sick of the aerial view of our ponds, fields, and buildings.

I have to admit, when we landed I was feeling a little inspired to become a pilot also. Maybe not as inspired as The Canadian was, but I had a better understanding. Actually, maybe I'll just become an aerial photographer and The Canadian can be my pilot. That might work...

Either way, it was definitely a highlight of my summer and I am forever thankful to David and Hilary for taking The Canadian and I up in the plane. 

And I am thankful that none of us fell out. Amen.