Our First Year

A pause to look backward and forward

Beau and I walking down our road in the snow, headed to the village with some orders to drop at the Post Office, and then a coffee at 44 North Café

Time is so plastic. A year goes by in a blink, an hour stretches, seconds and minutes slip through my fingers like water through a sieve. Like surfers on the crest of a wave, we ride the invisible, intangible fulcrum between past and future, living in that non-existent zone called the present. Maybe that wave-edge is what you are released from at the end of your life. You leave the fulcrum and enter a different dimension outside of time.

Whatever time really is, according to the dates in my all-knowing digital world, 365 days ago I was still living in Echo Park, an LA neighborhood in the shadow of downtown and within hearing range of the concerts at Dodger Stadium — just days before we left, we could hear Elton John’s voice wafting through the night and in through the window, belting out “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”. It was a time of goodbyes…

365 days ago, I was buried in stacks of moving boxes — actually dozens of no-tape produce boxes, leftovers from when we delivered veggies across LA. I filled them with everything but veggies: destination Maine. 52 weeks ago, we had a farewell party with friends, the movers emptied the house and filled up the container, Beau took me for a final night out at the lovely Woodspoon Restaurant for dinner, and then, on Feb 17th 2023, we set off by car on our adventure.

I have been looking back at the monthly Maine Chronicles posts I have posted, reliving so much of the excitement we felt as we arrived at our destination, and discovered our new home. There has been so much to absorb and learn, and so much work to do. So now that we are reaching that one-year milestone, I look back and remember all the questions we had swirling in our mind just a year ago, and how many answers we have been given in this short time.

I am currently sat, so cozy and warm, by our wood burning stove, with a view out the window to the apple tree by the barn, its branches covered by snow. Such a different picture from the cold, drafty house with a rotting wall where the bathroom was, that greeted us when we arrived. Coming full circle through the seasons, so much has happened. As the snow dissipated last year, moving into “mud season”, the land around us revealed itself from under its white blanket. As Spring set in, it came alive. Trees blossomed, rhubarb appeared behind the barn, blossoms appeared on a pear tree we hadn’t yet identified, ferns took over the forest, bugs invaded!, our garden grew and was then taken over by weeds and slugs, fueled by the incessant summer rain; then autumn set in, revealing its colors, and Second Summer gave us a respite. Soon the leaves were gone, the snow arrived, and the road iced over as the days became very short indeed; we harvested a Christmas tree from the forest, mourned my step father who left with the Winter Solstice…

And now, the days are getting noticeably longer, our 2024 garden seeds have arrived in the mail, ready to be potted in our “growing room”, and we too are ready to start the cycle all over again, anticipating spring, and excited to see if this summer the peach tree will bear fruit — last year a late frost dashed our hopes for peaches. The seasons are doing their job of marking time, of giving us structure and excitement: is there really going to be a Nor’Easter next week? A foot of snow? Or will it pass us by — our weather report can’t decide.

Year two of our adventure, now that we have tackled some of the most pressing “home repair” issues, we will be making inroads in discovering our new community. You start to recognize faces here pretty quickly. The crowd that convenes at the coffee shop in the morning, the woman I met at the restaurant who was also at the Christmas party at the jewelry shop in the village. The faces at the concert that I recognize from the hardware store and the post office. The island farmer, the lobsterman sculptor, the restorer of timber-frame barns whose girlfriend sews lingerie in the building of workshops at the end of our road, upstairs from the furniture maker who was also at the concert; the organic farmer who also makes cheese and pottery; the guy who runs the workshop full of hi-tech machinery like 3-D ceramic printers at the Haystack Fab Lab. We tread into our new community slowly, discovering so many interesting people here, particularly during Winter when you see who lives full time on the island vs the “summer people”.

The quiet of winter, now that the Narrative Food gifting season has subsided, gives me extra time to explore some new endeavors and make inroads with our community. For the first time in years I took a class: a pottery class held in Brooklin, an incredibly scenic drive over the crazy Deer Isle bridge and along the coast, passing idyllic farmhouses, one-room libraries, adorable post offices, none of which seem to have changed in a couple hundred years.

The Random Pottery studio is housed in a converted elementary school — upstairs from the sail maker, and next door to an artist’s studio and film production company. I’ve enjoyed 10 multi-hour sessions learning to use a pottery wheel, trimming, glazing, developing a relationship to clay and centrifugal force, and making new friends with the small group of pottery students. Lynn, the lovely teacher, tells us about her life potting in the East Village of NY back in the 70’s, and sometimes someone — mostly me — screeches when something goes awry with a pot.

One of my first works in progress

Beau and I have been taking more walks. We can walk from our house to the island cafe (44 North) in about 35 minutes. So twice a week we walk into town for a coffee and a pastry, and then walk home. We meet people in the cafe, and along the road — neighbors like Katie Helman, an artist who is also the landlady of Hallie Lartius, who has been helping me with Narrative Food gift sales.

A well-earned coffee at the lovely 44 North Cafe in Deer Isle village

I’ve also started teaching piano lessons, something I haven’t done since I studied piano at the Ecole Normale Cortot music conservatory in Paris, back in 1986. My piano playing is something that I haven’t spoken about much (that will be a full post), but fate has played such a strange role in this regard too, both on the level of my own musical journey, as well as that of my amazing piano — so I felt perhaps it was a skill (and instrument) that would be meaningful to share here on this island where there are few choices for piano teachers. Starting teaching is like a second life for my musicianship. So satisfying!

The piano is so happy in this freshly painted living room, with vinyl, an old turntable, art, and an acoustic guitar. This room is fully analog!

And just as I was wondering if all my efforts to keep my business going were going to be sustainable in Maine, another magical gift practically materialized out of thin air. More details will follow, but I can reveal that in December, stealing a few hours away from packing hundreds of gift boxes, I submitted an application for a large “Domestic Trade Grant”, in partnership with 44 North (the beloved coffee roasters mentioned above). Miraculously, I just got the news that we have won the grant! It’s an incredible opportunity to develop a project in community with the women whose roastery is just a walk down our road. We hope to create some year-round jobs on the island, and year-round income for both our companies. I’m so excited to see what we can build together, and to get to know my new community better.

I imagine the coming year will be marked by the implementation of this grant, deepening relationships with our island community, continuing to renovate our home and learn from the land we steward. We have been preparing the soil in the veggie garden — we lugged multiple loads of seaweed from the causeway, bedded beneath burlap coffee bags we salvaged from the coffee roastery. We also picked up chaff from the coffee beans to mix with compost, and hopefully grow more than just weeds this summer! We plan to add another sculpture to the trail through the forest — no idea yet what that will be, but I trust something will materialize. We are clearing the area I can see from the kitchen window, so it extends back to the meandering stone walls which criss cross the forest. We are choosing paint colors and preparing to fill in all the cracks in the house which appeared when the foundations were repaired. And hopefully, the plumbing will be replaced, and we will build a second bathroom so you don’t have to traipse downstairs at night… We will host dinners and movie nights, with more time to build friendships.

I know now, that when I project my intentions, they materialize more often than not, so sharing them here is part of the process. That’s the magic, and possibly why this decision we made, to embark on this adventure, has — so far at least — been working out, as if a higher force is protecting us, hearing our intentions, and bringing us warmth, nourishment, friendships, new skills, and even grants! Thank you to the powers that be, I believe in you.

On another note, our cooking has been adapting to the seasonal availability of produce in Maine, compared to California. Do I miss the Sunday Hollywood Farmers Market, or the Santa Barbara Saturday Farmers Market? YES, we had quite the love affair for over a decade!! But also, the narrower availability here drives creativity, and huge gratitude when the growing season delivers — oh the summer strawberries in Maine taste more wonderful than any California strawberry, perhaps because they are so fleeting.

Our favorite roadside strawberry vendor. Indescribably delicious.

So I am focusing on the gifts at hand, aka the veggies that are plentiful here. I love beets. So here is a list of Beet-Forward recipes we have enjoyed and are great for this time of year, created by 3 lovely chefs who contributed to many of our mealplans over the years.

Amelia Saltsman’s Steak with Bloomsdale Spinach and a Beet & Blood Orange Salad

Gabriele Bertaccini’s Roasted Winter Squash and Farro Salad with Beets

Danielle Goldstein’s Veronica's Roasted Beets and Fennel with Goat Cheese Crostini

The beets from Debby of the Garden Of…, that I used to pick up at the Santa Barbara Farmer’s Market. There’s delicious beets here in Maine too!