And if I live too long I'm afraid I'll die

I'm back from Maine and happy to have returned to a more or less quiet environment. I had a good time, though, better than I expected. When I arrived on Sunday, my sister and her family had only been at the house for a couple of hours. My nephew, Patrick, who is about two years old, was crying away as I carried my luggage into the house. I was ready for the aural assault. Or so I thought.

As I said hello to my parents, grandmother, et al, I noticed that all of the lights were on. When I inquired why this was so, my father explained to me Patrick would cry if any lights were off. Well, he's crying now with all the lights on, so why not shut them off, I thought to myself. I brought my stuff to the bedroom upstairs and the lights were on. I found it a shade odd that my family followed my nephews desires to the letter. Did the lights upstairs have to be on, as well? Guess they weren't leaving anything to chance.

Patrick cried up until the second I left today. From Sunday to Tuesday he bawled his eyes out, stopping only for naps and the occasional ten minute respite between fits. He would cry if you looked at him. He would cry if someone dropped a feather next to him. Fuck, he cried just for the sake of crying.

I felt bad for my sister. Rich, her husband had gone home Monday morning morning, leaving her to tend to Patrick. We knew she was embarrassed by his behavior and did our best to assure her that he was just doing what babies do, but after a while, when the wailing hasn't ebbed, it's hard to say that and sound convincing.

After dinner on Sunday, Kiley asked me about fifty seven times to take her out in the kayak. I told her about fifty seven times I would if it was alright with her mother. When she acquired permission, we set out, with Shannon, Kiley's twin sister, in the kayak. Kiley wanted to go fast, Shannon wanted to go at a snail's pace, and I just wanted some symmetry in our rowing. About halfway to our destination, a marshy area Kiley had dubbed "Kiley Island", I had had enough of the jerky motion and frequent splashes of water in my face their rowing was producing, so I, in my deepest sailor's voice, bellowed "HEAVE, HO....HEAVE HO.....HEAVE HO" . They followed suit, and we began to row as one. Despite a failed mutiny and having to dodge Shannon's oar on several occasions in order to keep my head intact, the trip was a success, if only because it provided a respite from Patrick's demonic bawling. (When I say demonic, I'm only half-kidding. I'm telling you, this kid, who is usually so quiet you hardly even know he's in the room, was acting like he was possessed. I should have grabbed the holy water out of my glove compartment and gone at him like Father Merrin. "The power of Christ compels you!The power of Christ compels you!"

I managed to get a lot of reading done. Before heading up to Maine, I went to Barnes and Noble and purchased a book called "The Name of the Wind" by Patrick Rothfuss. I'd read a lot of great things about it and finally bit the bullet and got it. A big, fat brick of a book, I managed to read about a quarter of it. I haven't read such an imaginative, fully realized, and assured, book in a long time. I'm going to dive back into it tonight.

To work off the fattening food that was prevalent in the house, I went for a scenic jog along the water yesterday afternoon. And after dinner, sensing my sister needed to get away from the house, I asked her to take a walk with me. She complied, and we took the same route I took for my jog. We had a nice conversation and her mood brightened.

Afterward, we all played Uno and had a great time. We played only one hand because it took an hour to complete. Kiley beat us all because she's so sweet, I didn't feel the sting of defeat. And yes, I know I just rhymed. Sue me.

My sister and I walked down to Buffleheads, a cozy little restaurant down the street, for lunch today and each got a lobster roll. Amanda called just as I was ordering. When I picked up, she was gone. We'd been playing phone tag since the day before, and I was frustrated I missed her again. Probably better that I did, because our conversation would have had to have been short because we were just about to eat.

Before I left today, I grabbed my mp3 player and headed across the street to the beach. The tide was out so I was able to walk to the island via the sandbar. I put on some madrigals by Gesualdo and away I went.

It was a good trip overall. I had some quality alone time with my mother and talked to her about some personal issues I was having that no one else knew about and I told her about my heart's adoration for a certain woman, an adoration that won't be quelled, despite my best efforts. My mother gave me some good advice on both counts, telling me she'd help me with the former and imploring me to go with my heart on the latter. I told her I had no choice. The heart wants what the heart wants. And it won't be overruled easily. Don't I know it.