Harvest Time

It goes without saying that swallowing any fear and taking this leap of moving to Maine has translated into some pretty cool experiences that I might not have otherwise had had I played it safe and stayed back in New York. And often enough, it's experiences that you wouldn't necessarily think of upon hearing the word Maine.

Case in point: I work at a winery. That's right, a winery in the midcoast region of Maine, somewhere between the ocean and throngs of moose. And I had the incredible opportunity of harvesting our vineyard in late September, a week before I hit the road to get hitched.

Since this was our vineyard's inaugural harvest, the whole team met down in the vineyard for a two-day power session. It was inexplicably beautiful those early mornings. Cold, dewey, and brilliantly lush as the sun rose over the vines.

The vines had been covered with netting to protect them against hungry rascals like wild turkeys.

Cellardoor Winery, Part III - Harvest from Cellardoor Winery on Vimeo.

A Mid-Winter Recap, Part II

2012 was such an awesome year. And awesome is a word that I never use.

[Checks through past posts to see if this holds true]

Like I said, awesome is a word that I almost never use. But it's a damn good word to describe 2012. Two very cool major things happened to us. We bought a house and we got married. As I had mentioned in A Mid-Winter Recap, Part I, purchasing the house was an almost 7-month process. And certainly not an easy one. But when all was said and done, we came back from our wedding and mini honeymoon to sign all the official papers. And then he carried me over the threshold. (No, I'm not kidding. The timing was perfect so we did it, hysterical laughter and all.)

But back to the big day.

We got married at Sugarbush Resort in Warren, VT on October 7. The forecast leading up to le grand jour called for rain. Rain every day leading up to it and for a couple of days after. With an indoor ceremony and reception, I wasn't too anxious. I mean, I was marrying my love. Rain wasn't going to ruin anything.

And it didn't.

The days before were certainly soggy, but when we all woke up on Sunday morning and looked out the window, we were thrilled. For all those guests that had arrived the previous evening, driving in the dark up the winding mountain road, the mountain was ablaze in colors.

It goes without saying that the day flew by. I was so emotionally charged that it all felt like a big dream sequence to me. I'm convinced my emotions went overboard to the point that I held it together without effort all day. Kind of like being numb, but in a good way!

Here are a couple highlights from our amazing day:

Jason and I met at the top of the mountain for a first-look session with our photographer. That meant separate trips up on the chairlift so that he could be there waiting, turned away from me, when I arrived. My best friend was convinced that I was either going to lose a shoe, both shoes or my whole person. Thankfully, none of those happened. What did happen was a dramatic temperature drop. And wind. Lots of wind. This is a pretty emotional part of the day, but I will sum up our experience with a line from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, as the Griswold family stands in a desolate, snowy forest looking at their soon-to-be Christmas tree:

"She'll see it later honey, her eyes are frozen."

 

Testing the wind.

Coming back down on the chairlift.

The ceremony.

Bridesmaids, flowers and maids of honor

 

Some of the boys.

And now, our little wedding trailer video:


Daniela and Jason from Liam McKinley on Vimeo.
And then, as the evening came to a close and gave way to morning, we all gathered for brunch at the base of the mountain with the most beautiful view. It had snowed for the first time overnight. It was truly a dream come true. A skier-turned-snowboarder at heart, the snow was a beautiful wedding gift from the gods. Foliage and snow. Snowliage. Gorgeous.

A Mid-Winter Recap, Part I

It goes without saying that it's been a while since I've been here, since I've felt the pull to sit and write. I'm not sure if it's due to the fact that it's been a year and a half since writing was my actual job. As in, something I got paid to do. Like those first couple of days back outside to run after a long, dormant winter, my rhythm feels off. It feels like work. It's not coming naturally. Not yet, at least.

But as of late, I've found myself lying in bed listlessly, just about to surrender to sleep, when the sparks of thought will start to ignite. Cozy and covered under all of those blankets, I certainly haven't yet been willing to get out of bed. But it has made me wonder whether I should at least try to pick up again. Because, like running, the first bunch of days are always the hardest. Your legs feel awkward, your stamina is almost non-existent, and you're trying desperately to keep a positive attitude as you dismiss the pain and the lack of breath. Then, after going through the motions day after day, week after week, you start to find your stride, your own natural rhythm that allows your mind to wander as you just go.

So, to start things off, I figured I would give a little recap of what's been going on around these parts. Last I wrote, Jason and I were about to give a little dinner party (update: dinner party was a success!). Winter then turned to spring, and with it came mud season. That's right. In Maine, there are 5 seasons. Winter, Mud Season, Spring, Summer and Fall. On the freakishly warmer days that climbed to 70 plus degrees, we went for little hikes. 70 degrees at the bottom, as we found out, did not mean that it would be 70 degrees at the top. Thick layers of ice lined the trails and, at some points, we were forced to shimmy along the paths by grasping branches of pine trees.

Jason heading up an icy path.

Finding an opportune moment to strike a pose.

Finally at the top.

All that snow and ice eventually melted wreaked havoc on anything that wasn't paved (and somehow all the areas that were). The house that we had been renting had a dirt driveway. Thankfully, we had a garage at the end of that driveway, but going from point A to point B was a gauntlet. We soon said goodbye to that driveway, however, as the owner of the house decided to sell and that we needed to leave. After looking for alternative rental options, we started entertaining the idea of buying. While it can be true in many cases that a mortgage can be less expensive on a month-to-month basis than renting, we were still hesitant. I mean, could we end up with our first home just because we couldn't find something to rent? Yes. After nearly 7 months of dealing with banks, mortgage companies, foreclosure companies (did I mention it was a foreclosure?), et al., we were officially first-time homeowners to the ultimate starter home. Oh, how good it feels.

The ultimate starter home.

So what do we have on our hands? The house was built in 1865 is a 3-bedroom, 1-turned-1.5-bath farmhouse. We started renovating the second we were in and are now just about finishing up the master bathroom. For more information on this project, check out Jason's blog, Rebuilding Broadway.