The summer wind

Pleasure craft sail around the harbor at the Eastern Prom in Portland.

Anthony strolls the beach in Portland.

The father-and-son enjoy a rare warm October day.

A duck boat motors around the harbor

The Jewel dwarfs boats in the harbor.

A breach-loading cannon from the U.S.S. Maine that was sunk in Havana harbor and triggered the war between the United States and Spain.

The U.S. flag still waves from the mast of the U.S.S. Portland.

PORTLAND - I am not sure if global warming has had a hand in this smoldering weather or Mother Nature is just being charitable before winter closes in and locks us in an icy vise for the next five months.

Whatever the explanation, summer's searing heat returned to New England on an October weekend which is usually cold and windy, and reserved for raking leaves, watching high school football games, and stocking firewood.

Two nights ago, temperatures plummeted into the low 30s, opening the door for Jack Frost to take out what was left of my garden.

For two days, chilly weather settled over New England. The smell of smoking hot wood stoves drifted over my neighborhood as Mainers reluctantly turned on their furnaces for the first time since May. It was cold enough to snow and I saw people in fall jackets.

I was about to bow to Old Man Winter and brace myself for the cold and snow that will soon wreak havoc on the six-state region.

But this weekend, summer snuck back into New England and broiled the state of Maine. The cold nights disappeared and the humidity returned. I turned on a pair fans, which is unheard of in October.

The humid weather gave us an excuse to pack sandwiches, head to the Eastern Prom in Portland, walk the pristine beach and simply enjoy the warm sun.

We weren't the only Mainers who shunned their TVs, laptops and shutoff their cell phones for a walk along a crowded beach. Thousands of Pine Tree natives were strolling the Eastern Prom or weaving in out of the crowds at the Old Port. A cruise ship, "The Jewel" was parked along the wharf. It is a floating city that dwarfed all other boats and ships in the harbor.

Temperatures rose to the mid 80s. Beach-goers threw themselves in the water as landlubbers basked in the burning sun. Shorts and bathing suits were the attire for the day. Runners and cyclists were out in full force. Sailing craft of all sizes headed for open seas.

As I can remember, the second weekend in October was usually cold, damp cloudy and just plain windy.

But summer found its way in New England and chased away Autumn's chill, treating Mainers to a brief respite before Winter has the final say.   

A sweet rite of spring

 

SABATTUS, Maine - You don't have to wear your Sunday best when you celebrate this mouth-watering tradition in the Pine Tree State.

I only became aware of the informal Maine holiday after marrying a true Mainer who knew her away around this vast state and its customs.

I learned that it's an event that happens every spring, just like baseball, and life-long residents turn out in droves to attend Maine Maple Sunday, where taste buds come alive over homemade syrup, maple doughnuts and fudge that you won't find at your local grocery store because these home-grown creations are in a class by themselves.

That's what makes Jillson's so unique and worth a scenic ride through long-winding roads and small bridges that cross over small streams.

Some locally-owned farms like Jillson's put on a spectacular breakfast that would have the glutton King Henry the VIII demanding at least four helpings of this enterprise's fresh eggs and sausages. It is a morning extravaganza that features a smorgasbord that celebrates breakfast on a frigid March day.

But expect long lines on a chilly morning as you watch customers overindulge at that breakfast table. But these hardy Mainers and tourists don't seem to mind the long delays as reluctant and well-fed customers trickle out of Jillson's.

After you have had your fill, stop next door and watch sweet-smelling syrup being made and get ready to spend some dough buying syrup that makes pancakes and waffles the perfect meal any time of the day. These farmers work hard to make this stuff so its worth shelling out a few extra bucks to enjoy such fine syrup.

Walking around the grounds of Jillson's offers customers awesome views of the countryside in central Maine. The views across open fields are simply awesome and a quick walk-through of a large barn that houses a variety of animals takes the chill out of a frigid March morning.

It's a sweet tradition, and it is easy to see why families mark this day on their calendars when spring rolls around each year.

Burnin' Love

AUBURN, Maine - The 1905 red-hot wood stove has been working overtime while weathermen have been forecasting doom for the Northeast for the past seven days. 

This gives panicked New Englanders an opportunity to race to the grocery store to purchase food and scramble to find the local number to FEMA for a one-day event that will end life on the planet as we know it.

After all, the apocalypse is upon us as another ho-hum Nor'easter roars up the coast.

But this coast-hugging storm could also turn out to be a dud, too.

Ignoring the storm prognosticators has become a way of life for all sane citizens living in the hinterlands of the Pine Tree State.

But worrying about facing certain destruction from the latest coastal storm is fruitless, especially since my wood stove, a holdover from the Teddy Roosevelt administration, still provides heat and comfort. 

It is an iron monster capable of surviving a nuclear blast. The stove's warmth is a way to use less oil even though this cast-iron beast leaves a carbon footprint the size of Big Foot's feet. But rationing oil still remains an admirable goal. The price alone of this black gold is enough to make any homeowner shiver in these hard times. So for many of us, wood is our alternative energy source — for the moment.

So, let it snow and the cold wind blow!

I will watch New England's day of reckoning huddled around a small inferno, sipping coffee and listening to Mozart, Neil Young, Benny Goodman....well, you get the picture.

For the past five years, I learned how to burn things and light up a wood stove without burning my home down. There is a knack to building the perfect fire — and keeping it going for all eternity — or for at least for most of the winter. 

Mainers are experts when it comes to starting a wood-stove fire up here in cold country. There are tricks to heating a house without triggering a conflagration, and over time, I have become a well-trained arsonist who knows how to light 'em up with dry wood and proper kindling. There is technique involved here, and I have become an expert with fire as my Iron Hulk heats up the entire house from downstairs.

The glowing stove from another century takes the chill out of your bones and turns my unfinished basement into a sauna while winter's fury carries on.

Of course, I am always looking for consensus as a journalist, and that means asking wood-stove veterans to share some of their hot tips on burning wood. I learned from the best to keep the home fires lit without torching my home in the dead of winter.

The approaching storm did not send me scurrying to buy food or rent dozens of movies. We all know the power never goes out in a Nor'easter, our DVD players run on magic, and food never goes bad when the electricity disappears after branches snap wires across a state that has the most trees in the union.

Nah, that never happens!

I will just put another log in my fire-eating stove as another coastal snowstorm adds another blanket of fresh powder — and drink coffee, of course.