For the past few days, I’ve been looking at photos of Scotland, England, and parts of France (and even Pennsylvania) that show lots of beautiful white snow on the ground. I must confess, I’m a bit jealous. Here in Maine, we’ve seen only rain. While that’s fine, and as I’ve mentioned in my previous post, we’ve certainly needed it, I’ve got to say rain’s nothing compared to the first snowfall. And as for the locales I mentioned above, the folks who live in them are in their glory. They don’t see much snow at all. Except for those living in Pennsylvania. They get lots of it.

As I sit here and type, I’m listening to the wind howl outside my window. This is the time of year when vast temperature changes are common and with those temperature changes come differences in pressure, which causes the wind. Of all weather phenomenon, I dislike the wind the most. It sits just atop ice storms. Ice storms are terrible because they knock the power out for days on end, something wind usually does for just a few mere hours. They’re both horrible events, but I’m sure I’ve already said too much about it. Discussing the weather on this blog quickly becomes tedious.

In other news, I’m reading my first Hemingway book. It’s titled, “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” and apparently, it’s surrounded by scandal. I wasn’t aware of this before I began reading it because its description seems rather innocuous. And now that I’ve read past page 50, it remains innocuous. Little did I know until last night that the book ranks at #30 on the ALA’s list of most-banned classics. Why? Because it apparently contains material that the state deems inappropriate. Communism, Marxism, etc… Which is fine, I guess, because I’m not too interested in those topics, but it does seem somewhat odd to ban a book such as this. I suppose the state can never be too careful though, especially when dealing with revolutionary types. Here are some fun facts for you: In 1940, For Whom the Bell Tolls was declared non-mailable by the U.S. Post Office. In 1973, the book was banned in Turkey because the book included “propaganda unfavorable to the state.” I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do, I suppose, but whether any of this banning is substantiated by actual content contained in the book remains to be seen. I’ll surely update this post when I finish reading.

I can’t say the book has completely captured my interest as of yet. It’s so far been a slow read at just a few pages completed before I fall asleep each night. When I love a book, such as The Name of the Wind, I’ll read chapters during every instance I sit down with it. When a book is slow, I only manage to make it through a few pages until my eyelids become extraordinarily heavy. And when that happens, I end up not remembering what I read anyway. The thing is, this particular book is rated very highly, so I’m hopeful it’ll pick up steam as I progress. And if I find this one appealing, I’ll dive right into A Farewell to Arms, another Ernest Hemingway novel. From what I hear, this other book is as excellent as excellent can get.

I’ve gathered that Hemingway novels require a certain level of tenacity to ingest, digest, and appreciate. I’ve listened to a few reviews on his different works and many of them have been described as flat out boring from the beginning through the middle sections, but as the endings begin, the lessons reveal themselves. And that’s what many reviewers have found value in. Hopefully I can find value in Hemingway’s lessons as well. I’m ready to hunker down to enjoy some of what can only be described as concise, straightforward, and realistic material – classic Hemingway. And that, my friends, comes with an Oxford comma. Until next time…

We’re finally getting some much needed rain here in western Maine. I’m not sure we’ve seen any for over a month. It’s been relatively warm too with the temperatures hovering around 40° during the daytime. Overall, it’s been a pleasant autumn. The rain certainly is welcome though. People have been complaining of allergies and I suspect the dry leaves on the ground have had something to do with that. All that dust flying around the outside air is bound to have an effect on the sinuses. Hopefully it’s all been washed downstream.

A few days ago, I was browsing Google Earth (something I often do) around the Dunkeld, UK region. I was merely searching about, somewhat haphazardly, when I changed from satellite view to street view. I find it fascinating how different the two perspectives appear. A road that looks somewhat busy and well travelled from the air almost always turns out to be a one-lane-like farmer’s driveway. Things are quite different in Scotland than they are in the U.S. I’m used to wide blacktop, double-lane roads here in Maine. In the Dunkeld region of Scotland, the roads are so much more intimate, for lack of a better word.

As I was browsing through the streets of outer Dunkeld, I noticed something striking. Almost everywhere I visited, I found walking path signs adjacent to the roads. I’ve long known that walking is a treasured pastime in England, but I can’t say I was sure of the same in Scotland. Apparently, it’s a thing there too. As a matter of fact, just in the Dunkeld area alone, there are almost a dozen walks that range from 3-4 miles all the way up to approximately 10 miles. To view trail/path descriptions and an official walking map of the Dunkeld Path Network, click here. To see a quick-view of the map, see below.

Dunkeld and Birnam are situated along the River Tay, where it’s most congested on the map. I’ve learned so much about the area and have truly fallen in love with it. I’m looking very much forward to the day Laura and I visit.

The reason I bring any of this up is because, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned in the past, Laura and I are seasoned walkers. We do it both for exercise as well as relaxation and entertainment. I’d love to one day do it out of necessity, meaning, live close enough to a town, pub, or store, and use our walks for purpose rather than those reasons I mentioned above. As we also become older, we consider what we’ll do with our free time. Retirement is still a long ways off, but I’m a proponent of incorporating activities to the point of them becoming habitual, years before they’re necessary. I believe walking is one activity we’ll be engaging in for the long-haul and it’s comforting to know it’s well respected in a place I’ve become so fond of.

Throughout my life, I’ve lived in New York, Georgia, Connecticut, Florida, and Maine. I’ve never really concerned myself with my cars rusting out until I arrived in Maine. In New York and Connecticut, yes, the winter roads are sanded and salted, but I’m not sure I noticed any discernable difference between when I purchased a vehicle and when I sold it, rust-wise. Nothing ever seemed to happen in a bad way. That’s not to mean that cars don’t rust in those states because they certainly do. I have a long history of family members needing to repair holes in their floorboards – you know the type; you’re a little kid driving down the road with your father in his old truck. You can see the blacktop and painted street lines pass you by underneath your feet. Yeah, those good ol’ days.

I think Maine uses something different on the roads than what the other states use. Whatever’s utilized up here to melt the snow and ice also melts the steel of a vehicle. It’s strong. It eats away at pretty much anything and it does some real damage. And unfortunately, if a person doesn’t keep a close eye on the undercarriage of their vehicle, it may just fall apart. Honestly, you really truly (and regularly) need to keep on top of either cleaning the under areas of your car during the winter, undercoating, or both. Preferably both. And while you can’t stop rust completely because some is bound to find its way through, you can completely and utterly slow it down – tremendously.

To illustrate my points, I’ll tell you two quick stories. If you plan on moving to Maine, or northern New England for that matter, please take note. You’ll only encounter disappointment if you don’t.

Laura and I own two cars. One is a BMW 328xi. The other is a Ford F250. They’re both in excellent condition and both have relatively low miles when compared to other vehicles on the road. We really only drive them when necessary, which keeps them out of trouble.

Earlier this summer, I noticed a small puddle on the garage floor, underneath the BMW. At first, I didn’t really mind. I thought it was no big deal. After a while though, I became concerned. As the days passed by, the puddle grew. And grew. And grew. It grew to such an extent that I thought an inspection was warranted. I jacked the car off the ground, looked underneath, and discovered the the leak stemmed from the transmission pan. The pan was covered with rust. Nothing else was rusty in the vicinity of the pan – just the pan. To make a long story short, I ordered the necessary parts and changed the pan, filter, and fluid. The fluid and filter needed a change anyway, but I could have done without having to wait a month for a new pan to arrive from China. I was somewhat stressed during the entire endeavor. Road salt caused the pan to rust and ultimately leak. It was something that could have been avoided. And what’s interesting is that while I was procrastinating the inspection of the vehicle, I lost three quarts of transmission fluid to the garage floor. The transmission only holds eight, so I cut that one rather close.

This year, I brought my truck into a mechanic for a yearly safety inspection. As I arrived at his garage, I noticed smoke coming from the driver’s side front wheel hub. Come to find out, the brake caliper was sticking due to disuse of the vehicle. As I stood in disbelief, the mechanic explained that he sees the type of thing I was experiencing all the time. Year after year, people find their truck calipers sticking because the parts rust from sitting either outside or in their garages. Because the Ford F250 is so horrible in regards to fuel efficiency, most owners only drive them when necessary, e.i., to pull boats or plow snow. In the meantime, the trucks sit and the brake systems rust up. In my case, I hadn’t driven the truck earnestly in years. I had no reason to. So also in my case, upon inspection, I discovered that both front calipers had torn piston boots and one rear brake had the pads actually rusted to the brake caliper bracket. They wouldn’t move at all. Mind you, this is all being discovered at the same time as I was fixing the BMW. I was down two vehicles simultaneously.

To make another long story short, I bought replacement calipers and pads for all four wheels and did what I had to do. Now, everything is brand new. There’s no other rust on the truck and since I still don’t drive it much, I slathered Fluid Film over every single part of exposed metal I could find. Now, the metal is protected from rust, but I’ll still take the truck for a monthly drive, just in case.

I suppose I’m writing this post for a few different reasons. First, I found it rewarding to get the ordeal off my chest. I had to tell someone and that someone is you. Second, I thought a quick PSA was in order. Again, if you live in Maine or would like to live in Maine, take heed of my words. Your vehicle will rust away if you don’t protect it. Just because you can’t see it or feel it at the moment, it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. It’s like cancer and termites – both do their damage behind your back and unfortunately, under your nose.

I consider this blog my personal journal. I haven’t exactly began journaling, per se, yet, but I’ll certainly do that once I write all the posts that’ve been bouncing around my mind for the past few months. I love journaling and I feel it’s something everyone should do. It forces a person to sit down and think about his or her day. It forces recollection and ponderance. It forces a slower pace. And these may actually be good things.

Before launching this blog, I did some perusing on whether or not anyone out there was interested in reading something like it; a blog that’s personal in nature, like the ones we used to write before 2010. Earlier this century, it seemed like journal-type websites were all the rage. Nearly everyone had one and people around the world were eagerly gobbling up posts as soon as they were written. RSS was a big thing and it seemed like technology to make it easier for folks to consume this type of material was being developed just as quickly as new blogs sprang up. Those days truly were good ones, so when I recently decided to jump back into the fray, I wondered to myself, “Is the personal blog really dead?” It certainly seemed as though it was. I made it my mission to find out. Because after all, why in the world would I go to all the effort of setting up a website like this if no one was interested in looking at it?

Before I let you in on what my findings were, I feel as though I need to explain why most people surf the internet. You probably already know the answer. It’s no secret. Okay, here’s the reason: because people are bored. Yes, it’s true. Most people on this planet, no matter how much they’ve got to do all day, are bored out of their wits. And beyond being utterly bored, they’re consumers as well. Consumers of everything; useful knowledge just as much as useless knowledge. It’s why social media has become so popular and it’s why so many of us have become completely and wholly addicted to it. I guess the mobile phone hasn’t helped in that regard because I can’t imagine folks sitting at their computers all day long reading through these websites, so it’s surely a combination of both material and accessibility. Material being the media and accessibility being the phones. I’ll get back to the being bored thing in a moment.

So let’s answer the question of whether or not there’s any desire for reading personal blogs, otherwise known as online journals. From what I’ve found, the answer is a resounding yes. Early on in my “internet research,” I landed on a Reddit post that discussed the very topic. The original poster asked if there were any personal diary-like blogs out there that were favorites and if anyone missed the personal blogs of yesteryear. From this one question, a massive exchange took place. Many responders lamented the blog’s decline in popularity and just as many wished they’d come back. Personally, I wish they’d come back too, which is why I write on this very website. Apparently, because of the epidemic of boredom on this earth, individuals far and wide crave not only the inane nonsense of what occurs on social media, but would love to follow the lives of others as well – blog style. And not only that, these readers, or consumers of both useful and useless knowledge, crave depth, which is something social media simply doesn’t offer at the moment. I mean really, how much scrolling past pictures and memes can a person do with their thumb before they feel like a total idiot. It’s become apparent that readers would like to ingest something that lasts longer than a moment or two. From what I’ve found, they’d like to follow the lives of others. As evidence of this, please read through the following replies to the question the forum user posted (referenced above):

1. Oh I miss them so much! I used to read these kinds of blogs and I even had one too. Lately I have felt like I would like to do it again, but it seems like everyone has stopping blogging like this.
   
2. I miss that – I had a blog like that back in like 2004-2005!
   
3. I’m in love with blogging and would totally and completely adore finding other blogs like mine!

Sentiment like the above is the tip of the iceberg. I cruised through website after website where people were practically crying because they had difficulty in finding personal blogs like the ones they used to read. Yes, there are directories that include them, but even those directories are arduous to locate. I guess the search engines don’t deem them as appealing as the public does.

I’m not sure online journals are meant to be popular. I think their audiences are like that of the television show LOST – very tightly knit and extraordinarily dedicated. Smaller blogs like the ones I’m referring to are intimate with writing that’s authored by a person who doesn’t mind sharing details that most would rather keep private. It’s because of this reason, these websites are so appealing. Also, if a reader were to leave a comment on such a site, it’d surely be answered by the blogger. That’s not a common occurrence, so I dare say it’s special. And it really is special because not only is a person reading what’s written on a website, over time, they’re developing a relationship with whomever it is who’s doing the writing. I should know – I’ve made many a friend through blogging. Of course, they’re all gone now because I haven’t blogged like I used to in years, but perhaps if I begin again as I intend to, future relationships might develop. That is, if people find my writing interesting and personal enough. I’ll do my best to make it so.

So there it is. My little spiel about journaling on the internet. I honestly had no idea what I was going to write before delving into this post, so I hope what I jotted down made some sense. If you’ve got any memories to share, I’d love to learn about them. If you’d care to comment about whatever it is you’d like to comment about, I’ve love to read it. Thanks!

I think one of the questions most people have on their minds, at some point or another, is, “Can I or do I want to live where I am for the absolute rest of my life?” If a person hasn’t asked him or herself this question, they’re either not old enough or are content where they are. Laura and I are content where we are. Although, I’d say we’re content because we’re relatively young and are able to handle the natural elements that are thrown at us. I’m currently healthy and strong enough to shovel snow and split wood. Will we be this content when we’re in our 70s? 80s? 90s? Will I still want to deal with snow and firewood then? We’ve discussed topics like this quite a bit and have come to the conclusion that there’s no one place on earth that’s perfect for everything all of the time, rather, there are multiple places that are perfect for some things some of the time. While I’m frustrated by realizations such as these, I’m also a realist and realists need to recognize reality for what it is.

Spring and fall in Maine are superb. The weather couldn’t be better. The temperatures are neither too hot nor too cold. Traveling is easy and home maintenance is low. Even the summer isn’t terrible. Yes, the air gets hot and sticky for a few weeks and the bugs certainly are annoying, but absent of living in the middle of a town or city, I think that’s something we’ll simply need to get used to. Regarding the type of place we like to live, bugs are merely a fact of life.

The greatest threat to our happiness, peace, and survivability is the snow and bitter cold of Maine winters. While I do absolutely love the winter and most of what comes with it, it may not be a sustainable option after retirement age. Consider this scenario: I’m shoveling the driveway, I slip, I fall and break my hip, Laura calls an ambulance, they can’t get to me because of the snow. It’s a valid concern. Most friends in our area are seniors and I worry about them constantly. Preparation is key. I’m not sure people prepare nearly enough and they suffer because of it.

Quality of life is another concern. Laura and I like to walk, hike, garden, and generally enjoy the outdoors. We’d like to do that for as much of the year as possible. We’d also like to experience the types of culture only city centers can offer. So having a large town or city somewhat nearby would be wonderful. Having it accessible via a medium other than a car would be even better.

What I’m building up to here is that perhaps an idea is in the works. Not officially or anything, but perhaps the idea of, in 20 years or so, living somewhere else for a few months out of the year might be a wise idea. Someplace that would give Laura and me most of what we’re looking for in regards to what I mentioned above.

There’s a place in Scotland called Dunkeld. It’s a small town of approximately 1,100 people about an hour and a half north of Edinburgh. It’s referred to as the gateway to the Highlands. If Dunkeld had a twinning city here in the U.S., it would (or should) be Farmington, Maine. Dunkeld actually does have a such a city. It’s Asheville, North Carolina, but I find the notion of this twinning silly. The two are similar in some respects, but as far as population size goes, there’s not much similarity there at all. I know I’m being partial and wishful here, so please just let me have this. We’ll go with Farmington as opposed to Asheville. Please.

Dunkeld appears to offer much of what Laura and I look for during the times of year that are toughest in Maine. It also offers proximity to the culture we seek. I suppose part of my motivation for writing this post is to remind me of the working and evolving checklist of satisfaction that we’ve already applied to this tiny town. Dunkeld offers: a small population of people, a country setting, hotels, pubs, and tourism, more than enough local hiking trails, elegance and wealth, restaurants and local shopping, history, a nearby medium size river as well as a smaller one, accessibility to a primary Scottish thoroughfare, cool summers and temperate winters (as compared to Maine), stunning architectural and natural beauty, an incredible topography, a nearby railway, relatively close proximity to towns and cities, and much more that I’m sure I’m forgetting. Basically and most importantly, it seems as though Dunkeld is a nice town, not too small/large, in a location where it does snow, but that snow doesn’t turn to ice and hang around for five months. That’s a huge plus.

I’ll keep this post updated as I learn more, but as of right now, I think Dunkeld in Scotland is a primary contender for lightening the burden of Maine’s harsh winters. We’ll see what happens over the next few decades.