ONE SUNNY DAY

I have become so compelled to watching WABI-tv weather reports in the hopes - desperate hopes - of a sunny day it is almost an obsession. Forget the national or any "local" news or sports - I just want to see a weather reporter show a big "H" moving in and all these "L" signs moving somewhere else - preferably out into the Atlantic Ocean far to our east but at least somewhere else. On the other hand, I was so thankful to have a fairly decent day this past Saturday when there were nearly 30 family members (and one dear friend we consider family) at a BBQ/lobster feed to celebrate the visit of my son, two of his three daughters and a special lady who appears a likely candidate for future daughter-in-law.

As family components began arriving after noon, children and four dogs in tow, my son and his poker-playing buddy (the husband of one cousin) lifted up the former kitchen table and four chairs from the basement setting on the front deck - for a quick move into the dining room should showers arrive. Then the two of them tugged the heavy, blue, wooden picnic table out of the side lawn (and half way into the woods where it had been moved last Fall when the dock was pulled from the Pond) placing it center stage near the shore and really close to the pot where the 25 lobsters were to be steamed. This was a good decision on many fronts - close enough for the Chief Steamer, my oldest brother whose contribution to the occasion was the lobsters, to sit and supervise the process, and plenty of sitting room for those who wanted to be first in line for those hot, red critters that had arrived that morning fresh from the Stonington lobster fishermen Co-Op thanks to one of his step-daughters who's married to a lobster fisherman. As people said throughout the day - never had they tasted sweeter, hard-shell lobsters (no small compliment for this bunch of experienced "gulls" as one member calls them).

By the time all had arrived we had three generations of the family on hand - and my granddaughters were meeting most of them - (cousins at the first or second degree) for the first time. As the oldest (we don't talk about that!) the group ranged in age from 68 years to 4 months. (To make matters simple for the girls, people became either aunts/uncles or cousins. The degrees were forgotten other than to explain who came from which line of the clan.) For me it was so good, as well as important, for these almost 16-year old girls to finally get to know their east coast family - a solid bunch when it comes to the true meaning of Family. But other benefits were realized as well.

My oldest brother became a widow quite suddenly a year ago. Saturday, surrounded by all this Family (and this special lady who endeared herself to everyone, but especially to him as well as my son) he was obviously enjoying himself - being genuinely happy. A good day there on lots of levels.

My son, who was absent from the east coast for nearly twenty years not only comes back now as often as possible, is genuinely happy when he's with this Family. He enjoys (and is enjoyed by) his cousins and all of their families - spouses and children, dogs and cats. And his girls aren't the youngest any more - so they got opportunities to tie up bathing suits and help with sticky fingers - to be looked up to as "big cousins." It's a lot easier for a "little person" to ask for some kinds of help from a "big person" who isn't a grownup. Another good experience on both sides.

As an attorney with a specialty private practice, my son's working ALL the time (don't ask me how many client calls and court arraignments he's dealt with, text messages sent, emails answered or sent- or the incessant cell phone calls he's taken - while he's been here "on vacation". Too Many!). And yet, Saturday, the phone was off and it was, at least for one day, VACATION TIME.

The women had done the prep work - salads, all the fixin's for hot dogs and hamburgers, melting butter and setting out the apple vinegar (for those who learned the butter-vinegar-butter dipping technique), pies and angel food cake/strawberries/Cool Whip trifle, plates and utensils, cups, napkins, drinks (we won't talk about how much ice was used to chill the beer and soft drinks, but polar bears would have felt comfortable), and watermelon balls (made with an ice cream scoop even though one granddaughter was shocked, I say shocked, to find I did not have a melon scoop. Do I have a clue re: the forthcoming Christmas box???) Therefore the men had the job of Cooking. (Hint: Men have a difficult time focusing on duties when there's fun and socializing going on in other locations.) Eventually everyone ate - and ate - and ate. Then everyone had clean-up duties which took less time with many hands - but still seemed to continue into the late hours (with carry-over to the next morning). (My personal blessing here - a sister-in-law, my youngest brother's ex who will forever be my "sistah", who will wash dishes as long as there is room on the counter to place them to drain dry unless there's a dryer.)

Individual groups gathered, changed in composition, and moved around all afternoon eating, talking, feeding the baby, crossing generations and then starting the process all over again until finally ending at the kitchen counter where the deserts were on display. Of course, in the midst of all of this the two 5-year olds decided they HAD to go swimming and so it was, water wings and all with "negotiations" for bathroom privileges (little girls MUST have their privacy don't you know). Thank goodness for three bathroom! Earlier my granddaughters couldn't understand why I insisted all three bathrooms be cleaned and stocked with extra TP. "Because they will ALL be in constant use. Believe me." There are some things a Nana knows.

The one thing I didn't plan very well was stashing the trash after all was said and done. My regular trash can (monster thing that it is) was stuffed and full to the brim from just emptying the kitchen trash can over and over. And everyone was great re: using the Hefty bags someone had looped over the post at the top of the outside deck steps, and saving the glass bottles I'll be returning to Hannaford's (Bless them!), but I have to say that by the time the last dish was loaded in the dishwasher or hand-washed, I was much too tired to handle that fully-loaded Hefty Bag (read stuffed!). So I tied it up and left it on the deck.

Needless to say, no surprise the next morning to find some critter had been attracted to the scent of lobster shells in the bag and had made enough of a hole at the base to spread a bit of the contents for a cleanup Sunday morning (after posters had been put out for the Farmer's Market and our special lady had been delivered to the Concord Coach Line for her trip to Boston's Logan Airport for her return flight to California). As for the bag and the hole - Duct Tape is a marvelous invention(!) as is having a brother who's willing to share his trash storage container until Friday morning a blessing. (Also having that same brother who offered to make breakfast for everyone before the trip into Bangor to Concord Coach Lines...an offer taken! - Plus, it offered one most time to spend with his adult daughter and her family who'd driven up from Massachusetts to be with the Family on Saturday.)

BTW: I have to say that Concord Coach Lines is the only way to travel when leaving Bangor regardless if one is flying in or out of Portland or Boston. My son purchased pre-paid round trip tickets from Logan Airport to Bangor at a cost of $75.00 per ticket which is a heck of a lot less than the cost of flying that last leg. The buses are comfortable, the schedules are dependable; the staff are friendly. Anyone looking for their depot can find it next to the Wendy's on Union Street just before the BIA entrance/exit.

Bottom Line: Saturday's weather was great - well, maybe not great (the ground was still squishy so no picnic blankets on the ground) but at least we all got to eat outdoors and there was plenty of room for lots of folks and rambuncious children and dogs. MUCH better than having to do it all in the house! BUT, I am begging God for some good (not just decent) weather before they all leave this coming Saturday. On the other hand, my son says this is great sleeping weather and comfortable. He enjoyed planting a tree for me in the rain last Friday. Seems San Diego is in the midst of a heat wave - hot and sticky and miserable. It's all in the perspective, isn't it.