Daily Life in Eliot, Maine….#2

The weather here in southern Maine is STARTING to break, it was actually about 30F today, which is like a freaking heatwave to those of us who have survived this record cold and snowbound winter we have been having.  Only 15 more days until Spring, but still the threat of storms, although accumulation will now be lesser because of the rising daily temperatures.  Thanks God!  It’s been brutal…as you all know from all my bitching and moaning about the snow.  I know…move…it’s definitely on my mind for next winter for sure.

I am inspired by Opinionated Man’s blog to post photos daily, and this will also force me to be taking photos daily — something I mentioned that I wanted to do more of once again as the weather permits.  Today I didn’t get out to do any “fresh” photos, but I shall recycle some of life here, as I would like to continue to participate in the “Daily Life in ____” challenge.  I think it’s a great prompt and one we can all use to show bits and pieces of our lives in various parts of this wonderful world.

Here are today’s photos from Eliot Maine and my life.

"Stuffie Slut" Nola, my little dog and her gazillion stuffies...I call them her stuffie ho's!
“Stuffie Slut” Nola, my little dog and her gazillion stuffies…I call them her stuffie ho’s!
MainelyButch and Nola down by the waterfront in Kittery Point, Maine Fall 2014
MainelyButch and Nola down by the waterfront in Kittery Point, Maine Fall 2014
Hanging at the beach last summer...boots and all.
Hanging at the beach last summer…boots and all.
Old North Church steeple in downtown Portsmouth NH the closest city to where I am located.
Old North Church steeple in downtown Portsmouth NH the closest city to where I am located.
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My 12th Year…Where I Was…Growin Up

From “The Daily Post” “

Tell us about the home where you lived when you were twelve. Which town, city, or country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home?”

I was a rather lucky kid.  I grew up in a rather complete family; Mom, Dad and two younger brothers, and two younger sisters – 7 of us total.  We were lucky as kids, we had terrific parents and we weren’t abused or living with alcoholics -like many of my friends tell me of their childhoods.  I had a pretty typical lower middle class childhood, living in a small rural town in southern Maine that hadn’t yet reached it’s hay-day of strip malls and outlet stores.  My parents worked their asses off to support and raise us, and I thank them for the childhood they gave each of us.

At twelve, I was living on a beautiful rural road, with sparsely dispersed houses, in a very historic area of town.  We lived in a huge old house, the first floor being over 300 years old, the second floor added in the 1940’s.  At one time the place had been a large farm, complete with two large barns that each burned long before I was born.  There were the remnants of ancient apple orchards, even a pear tree and lots and lots of grape vines gone wild.  The property was up against land that had been left to the town, thus it was called the ‘town forest’ – tons of acreage of wilderness with trails, old dumps, old foundations and even a couple of very old grave yards…ooooo….that we as kids would think were haunted by the old sea captain buried in one of them.

Along one edge of the property, just over the line into the town forrest, was a swamp with a small stream that ran harder in the rainy season. We played in that swamp for hours and hours.  We built crude bridges, caught frogs, tried fishing and manhandled turtles.  My mother would buy us tall rubber boots for our excursions into the swamp land.  I recall that we had a name for the swamp, but cannot recall what it was now…but it was a beloved place to play, get dirty, find adventure and live out fantasy life as sea captains of small boats we would try to build, or as army guys crawling through the swamp grass and muck in search of the ‘enemy’ neighborhood kids.

Toward the back of the property, behind the house was a small field where there were eight or ten old apple trees.  These afforded us plenty of tree climbing to pick apples.  Mom would make pies for us out of them.  They were old Macintosh type apples.  We would have “apple wars” throwing rotten ones at one another as we scurried for cover behind the piles of old stones used to build crude stonewalls along the border of the property between us and the town forest land.  Farmers would build the old stone walls that are found throughout New England when they would clear land to plant.  They really had nothing else to do with nor other way to dispose of the rocks and stones unearthed when plowing.  So up went stonewalls to mark borders, pen cows and horses, and to keep out the villains.  Our property had stonewalls on all three sides, and was fronted by the road on the fourth.

We had one neighboring house next to us, and one kind of diagonally across the street.  Next door was the home of the two elderly people who sold my parents the home for under $8,000. back in 1972 – when I was 10 years old, and we had returned from living for a short time in New York.  These two became our adoptive grandparents as we had none of our own grandparents living at that time.  The only grandmother I had known had died when I was 10 just after we moved into that old house; the house that would be in our family for 44 years and would be the center of family activity all that time and would shelter a million memories.

Gram and Gramps were awesome as neighbors, and they especially were sweet on my youngest brother, who went there daily for homemade cookies and some hugs from Gram.  One time Gramps even got out and rode the little guy’s bike around the driveway, which was quite comical!  Old man on BMX bike, knees up to his chin…you get the picture I am sure!  He had a big wide grin on his face too!  Gram and Gramp were killed in a head-on collision on their way to camp one weekend when I was 20 and in the US Army in Germany, sadly.  I’ve always missed them.  They always said they would “go together” and by golly they did.  Bless them.

To the left side of the property, as standing in the road looking at the house head-on, we would play baseball, kickball and football in the field there.  Gramps usually kept it mowed, as his property bordered it along that side.  He loved to see us set up our baseball diamond, even though we did break his garage window once with a baseball hit foul.  I think it may still be broken today even.  It’s a downhill slope on that side and we would roll down the hill, wrestle and play for hours there.  A few years Mom and Dad tried growing vegetable gardens on that side. The deer and bunnies would come and mow down the rows nightly.  But we did succeed with some stuff once Gramps showed us how to put down dried blood around the garden to keep out the critters.  Evidently they think of death and dying when they smell dried blood and avoid the area.  It worked and we did have a nice crop of corn one year.

So, when I was 12 living there at the homestead I was just coming into my more rebellious years.  But I was generally a good kid.  I loved to read.  I would find hiding places on the property, a flat stone at the far corner along the stonewall where I would lay and read.  The lilac bush out front would get so huge that you had paths and tunnels through the center.  It was near to the road along the front left corner, and there was a rock cliff that fell off to the road below; the lilac grew right on that cliff.  I spent hours laying at the top of that cliff reading Nancy Drew mysteries, Harriet the Spy, and anything else that I could relate to.

Around this time I found a book on the roadside one day, a porn book…which piqued my interest but had to be hidden like crazy!  I had a place in the old tin garage where I hid it, a platform up in the rafters where I could climb up and be out of sight to read the really nasty stuff.  Until someone told on me and I got caught…that ended my porn reading career until I was 18 and could get it myself! 🙂  Ah, what a memory!

At 12 I had a 2 year old brother who I just adored.  I would spend a lot of time watching him for my hard working mother.  She worked right up at the end of the road at a small motel where she started as a chambermaid and wound up as the general manager.  We could ride our bikes the half a mile to Route 1 and be at her place of work should we need her for anything in an emergency.  The summer of my 12th year we had chickens, as I recall.  Mom has always loved her chickens and fresh eggs.  We would sell the eggs to locals who would drive into our broken pavement driveway looking for them. Our coops were clean and the chickens happy.  We had one that would always get beat up in the pen, so she ran loose on the property and we named her Henny Penny.  (The sky is falling….)  She was friendly.  And in the fall when the chickens all became chicken dinners (and I cried on the cliff with my cat squeezed tight in my arms) somehow Henny Penny was no where to be found on that day.  She reappeared the next morning as if nothing had changed.  Eventually Henny went to a retirement farm to live out her days.  Dad just could not do the beheading of such a sneaky chicken – after all she had survived the carnage, she must have been a blessed chicken.

Back then, 1974, you could leave your 12 year olds in charge of your other kids and they would all survive.  Sure, bloody noses and cuts from fights happened and you held the victim down until they agreed not to tell Mom and Dad that you caused the injury!  Kids fell out of tree forts, crashed their bikes without helmets, and stayed out til dark, but it was a much safer time and we didn’t have video games, colored TV or social media to occupy our brains.  We had the outdoors and our imaginations.  We had tree forts that we built with our young hands and Dad’s leftover wood and good nails.  We held each other down and made each other drink lemon juice or hot sauce, just for fun.  We had rope swings that we almost killed ourselves on at times. There were neighborhood BB gun wars, single pump only!  And the occasional lawn dart in the head did happen, but you survived. You learned to swim whether you liked it or not, Mom’s rule.  You took a bath on Sunday night, whether you needed one or not.  And Walt Disney never dreamed of showing you Myley Cyrus!  Yes, it was a different time, and much more fun in my opinion, I would not trade then for now ever!

At 12 I was also discovering who I was as a person, and knew I had secrets that I could never talk about with anybody.  I was about to go into 7th grade.  Kids were starting to have little boyfriends and girlfriends.  I was mortified by the mere thought that I would have to be some boy’s girlfriend at some point.  I never knew at that time that there was an alternative for me.  That would come years later, long after a fun childhood of skipping rocks on the local beaches, and building sandcastles with my baby brother. And that would come just a short year after I would take him to the races in my 1973 Dodge Dart, and teach him to jungle pee because I didn’t want him in the porta-potties at the race track.   I had plenty of time for my future self, I was too busy being a fun, countrified kid from Maine who loved lobsters, clams, sunrises over the Atlantic, Seapoint Beach and my awesome family.

Relationship Checklist

During the month of July, 2010, I did a video blog – or a vlog – called “Lesbian Dating Application” which was very funny, but serious too as it laid out all of the things that would and would not work in a relationship for me. Here I would like to revise that previous performance, and update it, because originally it was filmed over 2 years ago, and we all know how life and situations change; how we can change too.  So I believe updating in both written and video is necessary at this time.

Script goes something like this. 

Dating is hard these days.  You never know what kind of weird stuff that beautiful Femme in front of you has going on in that pretty little head or what she will pull out of her Guici handbag of tricks.   Wouldn’t it be cool if we had paperwork? Like a “lesbian dating application” listing out what will and will not work for use and ask them to indicate their take on each question.  While some can and would be simple yes or no, others would probably require some thought and effort in putting together a serious answer.

The Interview Itself:

  • So if you throw  the application back in my lap and stand up to leave…it might now work out.
  • If you show up to the interview looking like a 14th street hooker….it might not work out.
  • If you have more tattoos than I do…it probably won’t work.  While the occasionaly tat is nice on a woman, I find large tats and full sleeve tats to be a bit over the top for my taste in who I can see myself with long term.
  • Same goes for piercings, if there is metal protruding from your face or your ears are gaged and flopping like a basset hound’s then I am just not interested, thus it just won’t work.
  • If you sit there smacking gum, talking with a thick hood-style accent and vocabulary…nope, definitely won’t work.
  • If your cell phone is not set to silent during my time, my interview time that is, and she stops me mid-question to take a call from your recent ex-lover…get the fuck out.  Not going to work.
  • If you must bring a girlfriend or friend to the interview for “moral support” you might as well turn around and exit stage left cuz that shit just isn’t cool and it will not work.  I had asked to spend this time alone with you, and do not need a chaperone.
  • If you show up on your lunch hour and expect to be munching on your lunch while I am trying to interview you, it will just not work.  I need your focus and undivided attention during a serious conversation.  Had I wanted to do a lunch interview I would have reserved a table somewhere.
  • Now if you show up with lunch for both of us…we might be able to work something out because you obviously took the time to think of me as well, and that is impressive.
  • If you start any answer with the word “Ya know Girl” or “Oh Girl let me tell you….”  It’s just not going to work, because you obviously have me confused with some Femme you must have applied to for the same reason. Same goes for the pronouns, miss, ma’m, lady, and sometimes woman, in the way you are addressing me as a persona senses of the words.  If you know I am Butch you would know that I do not care a lot for the prissy female ways of being addressed.
  • If you come to the interview and are polite, courteous, smiling, have a great attitude and you obviously took the time to dress nicely and do your hair and nails, then I definitely am interested in seeing if we can work this out.  Especially if you brought lunch…awww, how did you know that liverswurst is my favorite??

Remember, your chance to leave a good first impression on someone will stick with them. And that first impression is made in the first 30 seconds of contact.  I can tell if you are someone I would date within a very short period of time.  I am all about first impressions, and about being with a woman who takes the time to make sure that she is always up to par and giving off good first impressions – even in her everyday life.  I do not want things to become “sweatshirt and braless” within 2 weeks of us starting a relationship.  Because that means you just did the interview appearance up to impress me upfront, but aren’t interested in how much I love my woman to look damned good every day; as well as for her to be making great first impressions on my family, friends and the general public And I like it when you are on my arm and we are out around town together, and we both look good…getting smiles from friendly strangers wherever we go…that is important to me and if you are like that too, then this will definitely work.

Key Points of the Relationship Expections: The Issues

  • Sundays are reserved for football, and I love my Sunday games, so scheduling a 1:00 dinner with your friends from work and expecting me to go with you….just not going to work.
  • If you are going to force me to go shopping for “girl things” like clothing, handbags or shoes…we will have issues.  I don’t care for that kind of shopping, and unless you are ok with me perusing the tool department while you clothes shop, then we’ll definitely have issues.
  • It’s 2012…if you have to question every cell phone call and text I receive then we will have issues.  Trust is a big thing, and jail breaking my cell phone while I sleep is punishable by breaking up!
  • Same goes for my computer.  It’s my private world, my solace and my place of refuge.  I have a lot of private writing on there, and when I want to share it I will, but catching you at 3am trying to figure out how to close out of my email account will piss me off and you will be leaving shortly there-after.
  • I suffer from B.E.D.D.  This is Butch Emotional Deficit Disorder which is the basic Butch trait of not always showing emotion or emotional reaction to things you think I should react to right away.  I sometimes appear clueless when you are crying, you have to tell me why..I can’t read your mind for hell’s sake!  And when I am not reacting in the way you think I should, remember BEDD.  It’s not contagious.
  • If we have to ever use the word “let” in a sentence accompanied by “you” then we will have issues.  I am my own individual, you will not have to “let me” do anything once you are standing outside with your suitcase packed.   Yes, “let” will definitely mean we have issues.
  • If you don’t love my dog, or are jealous of Nola, it will cause us to have issues.  I adore that dog, and she doesn’t talk back, nag or require weekly manicures, so she’s an easy keeper.  Are you?  If not then I can see issues in our future.
  • If you think you are going to drive when I am in the car we will have issues.
  • Same goes for pumping gas and getting maintenance done on the car.  I like to do that stuff, it’s a Butch thing…let me, or we will have some issues.
  • If you are highly jealous it could cause nasty issues.  I am a very social person, I have friends that I go fishing with, play pool with and hang out with (sometimes without you) and I get phone calls, texts and emails from them.  Because I have friends does not mean that I am any less committed to our relationship, it just means I am a social creature…and I encourage you to have friends too.  We can be happily individualized, and still be a great couple!  I get aggravated with jealousy.  Trust me, and I will trust you.
  • Baggage is something we all have.  Dragging up my past and using it in anyway against me will decidedly cause some issues.  I won’t throw your baggage around, so don’t toss mine across the room either.  If my baggage concerns you then we need to do some talking, so that we don’t have issues.
  • Addressing a Butch can sometimes be a mine field.  Our personalities and outward appearance often doesn’t match our mental state surrounding our identification.  Calling me cheesy pet names like “pumpkin, peaches, or tootsie” will drive me nuts.  Calling me Babe or Honey can work, but be very careful in that minefield please.  I’d hate to see you blown up by this issue.
  • If you have a drug and alcohol problem worse than mine then we will have issues.   Because I detest drunks, and will not put up with drunken behavior…now if you want to have some wine in the evening while we cuddle in front of the TV I am cool with that, but constant drinking will bring up serious issues.
  • The only time I am okay with lying is when it’s to hide a surprise party or something special.  Lying will cause issues.  I can smell a lie on your breath, so don’t’ even try it.  Plus, if you feel it’s necessary to lie to me then we determinately have issues.
  • I am playful and like to tease.  If you take everything I say seriously then you will have issues.

So, in closing up here this is basically what I am saying; I’m easy to get along with and pretty laid back.  My biggest fear is being able to trust someone with my heart and life in general.  Any kind of hidden agenda will not go over well with me.  You have no need to be sneaky, conniving or to hide things from me.  Be up front, be honest and we will never have issues.  When I ask you a question I like to get straight forward answers to the whole question, not the bare minimum that you think will cover it.

To quote the song, I’m lookin for a lover who won’t love another, but she’s so hard to find.  So I’ve been taking it easy, and not doing any deep searching.  If  she walks in and wants that interview, I have my pad and the applications all ready to go.  Of course I will also need your Carfax. LOL

In all seriousness, dating is scary.  Relationships are sometimes frightening prospets of vulnerability to a Butch.  It means laying ones heart on the line and hoping like hell she doesn’t stomp on it with her 4” stiletto heels.  It means having a confidence that she’s going to protect that heart and bear witness to an oft tormented soul and that she’ll do it with the utmost respect and privacy.  The lifetime I’ve seen of wear and tear on my heart has perhaps hardened it slightly, but it’s still pumping life-vital blood and it still has room for more cracks and chips.  I am still a loving and caring Butch, and I still want that perfect-for-me Femme in my life on a daily basis. I’m ready to love again; ready to give it my all.  I just hope she shows up soon and that she’s ready for the challenge of MainelyButch.

Thanks to all of my readers here and my viewers on Youtube who cross over here to read my stuff as well.  I truly appreciate you all and I so enjoy sharing my writing and thoughts with the world and all of you.  Comments are encouraged and appreciated!