But for this pandemic that never seems to end, it should have/would have been the Common Ground Fair weekend. With attendance hovering at 60,000 over the three-day weekend in late September, there must have been many people at loose ends when, yet again, this one was canceled. The last Fair was in 2019.

We always came home with our heads full of ideas. Thanks to the Fair we have a wire brush installed in our chimney, operated by pulling it up and down with chains we reach through the clean-out door. Somebody had a booth selling them one year. We bid on a plumber at an auction held at the Fair once, and he rigged up a system to heat water through our cookstove. That provided all our hot water until the boys got old enough to want a shower every day; the tank fed by the stove couldn’t keep up with the demand, and we reluctantly got an electric heater.

We grew beautiful beans that we first saw in the vegetable display barn at the Fair – a black and white one with the yin and yang pattern and golden Tiger Eye beans. Wally’s first stop was always the political action tent where he met up with old friends, and renewed the previous year’s now tattered bumper stickers.

He briefly revived his dream of joining the Morris dancers at every Fair, a dream that receded short of actually following through. My dreams of a greenhouse that somehow heated itself never materialized, nor of a foot-powered lathe, nor immaculate rows of vegetables, nor any number of sustainable, build-it-yourself projects.

Aspirational I’d call the Fair today, now that I’ve learned that word. It’s a place where you can imagine yourself doing things you probably never will do.

But it’s also a place where you can come home with the work of someone who can do them. With a huge pasta bowl decorated with sunflowers, with a handmade leather vest lined with fleece, with an indigo-dyed silk scarf, a finely-made ash basket with a neat swing handle. An anatomically-correct doll with a diabolical face, a wooden giraffe marionette, a wool felt slouchy hat (think Deliverance) decorated with beads, guaranteed to embarrass your teen-agers every time you wear it.

These were the presents we gave ourselves, paid for with a carefully hoarded stash of loose change over the previous year.

In later years, after the last cow had left our place, the animal barns drew us at both the Union and Common Ground fairs. We stood mesmerized by the smell of cow, the size of cow. When we had our own waiting for us at home, we could smugly admire someone else’s animals, knowing just how a cow’s wet nose feels, her rough tongue, her full, tight udder. When our barn was empty, it was all about the remembering, perhaps our first glimpse into what growing old would come to mean.

Even if the Fair didn’t happen again this year, September is still her poignant self; summer’s waning, the light is changing. I no longer wake up at 4 to dawn breaking; now it’s black night even at 5, and I’ve taken to snuggling down deeper for another hour.

The garden has its “I’m done already!” look, with carrots poking out of the ground, corn stalks drying up, and more tomatoes ripening daily. The cucumbers turned to monster yellowish beasts weeks ago and were thrown to the hens, but the squash and pumpkins are showing up where they’ve been hiding under their own giant leaves.

Common Ground Fair weekend used to mean first frost; not usually the killing frost here on the coast, but definitely chilly mornings that burned off to hot by midday. This year it just rained. And rained. No frost yet, that day gardeners dream of when they gaze out at the blackened leaves of peppers and squash, the hard crust on the soil and think, “thank goodness it’s over!”

Has anyone else noticed that bugs seem to be missing this year? Other than brown tail moths and ticks, that is. I saw exactly two white cabbage moths flitting around in August and zero green worms in the broccoli and cauliflower, though something mawed on the cabbages.

Zero corn worms as well. We harvested 50 ears of corn to freeze one day and there wasn’t a single worm. I’ve spotted just a few Japanese beetles, and no tomato hornworms (yet). Even mosquitoes are rare, though I did smack one on my leg the other day. It was tiny and slow, an easy kill.

But fall can’t be just about remembering the Fair and bemoaning change. September is the time to start planning for the next cycle of spring-summer-fall. For a gardener that means figuring out what did well, why the broccoli bombed out, and where to plant the garlic next month. Tracee and I walk around the beds and endlessly assign what goes where next spring, changing our minds each time we do it.

Too many cucumbers this year and no eggplant at all. The green beans need to be closer to the action where we’ll see them every day, not off in the back forty where we forget about them. We’ve got to come up with a reliable way to stake the tomatoes. And above all, to make sure the hens don’t escape and scratch up the tender little onions as soon as we plant them. That one day when they squeezed under the fence and had a party in the onion bed dashed my hopes of an epic harvest.

A garden’s a lot to keep track of, and I wasn’t much help this year with a new knee. But that’s the beauty of fall; you can look ahead and dream of a better year: tighter hen yard, fewer cuke hills, weedless beans, tidy tomato plants. And more poppies everywhere!

School

Take a look at the Lynx,https://p19cdn4static.sharpschool.com/UserFiles/Servers/Server_1335578/File/Newsletter2.pdf  the LCS weekly newsletter has a recap of the first soccer game of the season – LCS Lynx vs Searsport Vikings, 6-2 Lynx and the first cross country meet where the LCS girls and boys teams each came in second to CRMS (Camden Rockport Middle School).

The School Committee has a brief overview of each recent meeting in the Lynx. Additionally, all community members are invited to a 1-hour coffee chat with two School Committee members at LCS the Saturday morning before each Committee meeting. Meetings are held in Walsh Common; watch the Lynx and this column for meeting dates.

Other articles include PTO (Parent Teacher Organization) information, announcement of Maine Coast Hockey program, and an article with an intriguing title, “Should 3 Hours A Week of Gaming Be The law?”

Town

David Kinney posted this on the LBB: The Town of Lincolnville is seeking applicants for the position of Public Facilities Director. This position is primarily administrative, providing oversight to parking, highways and bridges, harbor facilities, the grounds of public facilities and public parks.  Work involves constant and varied contact with the public, contractors seeking or performing work for the Town, town staff as well as Town Committees.  Computer experience with Windows and the Microsoft Office suite is essential.  The Public Facilities Director exercises considerable discretion/decision making and must be able to work independently and without direct oversight.  This is a full-time, year-round position reporting to the Town Administrator.

This opportunity offers a competitive pay and benefit package.  The employment application and complete job description are available at the Town Office and on the town web site at: www.town.lincolnville.me.us  Interested individuals should submit a cover letter, resume and a completed employment application to the Town Administrator no later than the close of business on October 13, 2021 at the Lincolnville Town Office, 493 Hope Road, Lincolnville, ME  04849. 

Sympathy

Condolences to the family and friends of Charlie Chamberlain who passed away last week. Charlie and his family lived in Lincolnville for many years before moving to Camden. Rest in peace old friend.

Getting to Work at the Museum

With some money in the coffers (nearly $100,000 to date in the Beach Schoolhouse Renovation Project) work has started to repair the old building. Andy Young and his crew have begun preparing for the steel beams which will give added support to the second floor, one of the main deficits mentioned in the town’s assessment of the building. Next up this fall will be work on the west wall and fire escape; it's not known what will be found when the clapboards are removed and the fire escape taken down to be sandblasted. At the least a window in the kitchen will be removed where the fire escape is. At the same time the roof over the kitchen/office addition will be replaced. 

The Capital Campaign to raise $325,000 is almost to the halfway point counting in some pledges coming due after the first of the year. This includes a $50,000 grant from the Water Wheel Foundation, the Phish charitable fund. A recent second mailing to potential donors went out recently.

Meanwhile, LHS volunteers are working on a complete overhaul of the collection on the second floor. In the nearly 30 years that the LHS has been quartered in the space a lot of stuff has accumulated. Really a lot! Longtime Museum attendant Connie Parker and volunteer Cathy Daniels are spending an afternoon a week organizing the hundreds of obituaries of Lincolnville people that have been saved. Often old, fragile clippings of obits are found in drawers and cupboards, and sometimes they contain information about the deceased that would be lost if not for this work. 

There are many other similar projects that need a few hours to sort out, label, and organize. If you have some time this fall and winter to help out, give me a call (789-5987) or email ragrugs@midcoast.com.