Early winter-early dusk and the house where we’re heading, tucked into trees at the end of a long driveway, is brightly lit for Christmas. The eight-year-old clutches his music binder and guitar in the back seat with his siblings. I’m the grandma and they put me up front, which I appreciate on these excursions with my son’s family.

We’re the last ones to arrive at this informal house concert-recital of Jess Day’s guitar and ukulele students. Everyone settles in with cookies and cider, iPhones at the ready to record their young musician’s first efforts. Jess sits reassuringly next to each child (and one adult student) as they tell us their name and what they’re going to play. Our boy has been practicing Silent Night and Jingle Bells for days, and he plucks and strums his way through them confidently.

I marvel, as always, at the miracle of this boy sitting in front of a roomful of people, strong and healthy, observant, funny, with his own unique way of looking at things. I suppose, watching him, it’s praying, silently saying “thank you” for coming out on the other side of the brain cancer that struck when he was three. His parents, his older sister, our whole family will never forget that year.

Just the day before, this past Saturday, the Lynx gym was the venue, the LCS girls and boys basketball teams playing Vinalhaven the event. The almost-13-year-old led her team onto the court, her mother sitting next to me whispering, “it’s because she’s the shortest!” but nevertheless she was in for most of the game.

The ball player’s two sisters sat with us, and their three cousins as well, making for a grandma’s heaven.

The bleachers were full of fans, aka parents. The Vinalhaven players had a good contingent cheering for them, making a day of it on the mainland. This Monday our teams will travel to North Haven to play.

There should have been the two of us sitting on those backless seats for a couple of hours, re-living together the years of soccer games, wrestling matches, cross-country meets, the Pinewood Derby we endured for the sake of our three boys. Instead, he’s gone, leaving me to carry the torch of grandparenthood, one more time when the seat next to me is empty.

So who remembers the Pinewood Derby? Back in the day, when Lincolnville still had Cub Scout Pack 244, the longest surviving pack in the state at the time, a certain Saturday in February brought out every little boy’s parents, grandparents, probably aunts and uncles too. There wasn’t a lot going on in town those days, especially in mid-winter.

Every Cub Scout had been issued a Pinewood Derby kit – a chunk of wood and two axles with plastic wheels. The boy was meant to whittle the wood into a car shape, paint and decorate it, then attach the axles. On the designated Saturday, everyone arrived at the Community Building, and gathered around the table with the cars on display.

It was pretty obvious who made which cars. If the boy was lucky enough to have a handy dad his car would be slick, neatly painted, aerodynamically shaped for best advantage. If the dad was inept or too busy, or perhaps, absent, the car would look like the boy made it.

Of course, some very involved and caring dads believed the boy should make his own car.

Life isn’t fair.

The Derby officials – I remember Keryn Laite and Dick Koski filled this role for many years – had set up the track, a plywood ramp that took up nearly the whole length of the Community Building. Each boy in turn set his car up at the top, then the official would lift the gate and the car would travel down the track. The one that went the furthest won.

Now the cars that were built with some expertise had lead weights cleverly embedded in their body. This wasn’t illegal by any means, and whether to install them over the rear axle or in the nose was a matter of debate.

You can imagine the undercurrents in that room. Picture it, a bitter February day, everyone giddy to be out and about with someone to talk to besides their spouse. The reason for the gathering was incidental to all but the boys. And perhaps a couple of dads.

In those days, cabin fever was a real disease.

Predictably, the cars made with the help of the cleverest dad won hands down. The dads of the losers consoled themselves, knowing they wouldn’t be spending the next several Saturdays chasing victory from county to regional to state championships in the Pinewood Derby world, the fate of first through third place winners. Fourth place got the boy a small trophy, but no further competition. Fourth was the goal of seasoned dads.

The Sidewalk/Streetlight Committee is scheduled to meet this week, and not knowing about that committee I called David Kinney to find out. First of all, the name is misleading as it’s really all about lights, those lighting sidewalks such as at the Beach, and those on CMP poles. The town owns the Beach streetlamps and leases thirteen lights on utility poles; these are located at intersections, in the Center and Beach, and at the Fire Station.

The Sidewalk/Streetlight Committee is designated ad hoc, meaning it was formed to deal with a specific situation, and doesn’t have a permanent assignment like for example, the Planning Board. Most of its members are also part of the Energy group which devised the municipal solar array at the Fire Station.

Their mission is to determine if the current lights are doing what they’re meant to do. Is the Beach over-lit? Under-lit? How about the Center? Are all thirteen leased lights needed or should there be more?

As an ad hoc committee they will then present their findings to the Selectmen who will decide what, if anything, should be done.

Once again the eighth grade will be collecting returnables after the holidays on Saturday January 6 to raise money for their end-of-year trip to Quebec so save them up.

This Tuesday, Dec. 12 the needlework group meets, 4-6 p.m. Two weeks before Christmas finds many hands busy with hats and scarves and mittens to put under the tree.

If you’re considering making donations to organizations that work in our corner of the world here are a few more:

Camden Area Food Pantry: P.O. Box 337, Camden 04843

Coastal Mountains Land Trust, 101 Mount Battie Street, Camden 04843

Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners (MOFGA), P.O. 170, Unity 04988-0170

United Midcoast Charities, P.O. 205, Camden 04843