Finding Lobster in a Blizzard, or The Continuing Story of Why I Love Maine:

Today is T2's birthday and the joint party for both boys. The main(e) course of the dinner was to be lobster. This is usually not a problem, as there are a couple of places here on the Tenants Harbor peninsula that are open pretty much all the time (read, even Sundays). This Sunday, however, we have had at least 6 hours of steady, near white out snow...and it has been cold enough for the last 4-5 days that very few of the lobsterman have been going out.

Dad and I set out, four-wheel drive equipped and driving slowly, only to discover that all 4 places that we "counted on" were closed. I called a local disty who told me that he hadn't had anyone bring in lobster for the last few days due to the cold. Things were looking bleak.

As we stood in the General Store, pondering what we would do instead of lobster (e.g. clam spaghetti, scampi or the like), Bill I. pulled in with his plow to get a cup of coffee. The sales clerk asked him if he knew anywhere we might find lobster today and he said, "Sure, me." He warned us that we would have to be willing to pay "blizzard prices" for it and we agreed. Though we offered to follow him to the pier, he said he had to come back for his coffee, and we should just wait. He returned, 10 minutes later with 10 lobsters that had been in the harbor moments before...he charged us $4/pound.

The boys are writing him thank you letters. I love living in Maine.