Itchy feet and Lobster? by Barbara Edwards

Although I posted this on another blog, I wanted to share it here, too.

Coast of Maine

I’ve mentioned before that my husband gets bored when he doesn’t have anything to do. The heat wave we’ve been experiencing made it impossible to do outside chores and he already painted the living room a lovely shade of ivory.
He asked me if I’d like to take a ride to Maine for fresh lobster. Since it’s difficult to write with him placing through the house I agreed a lobster dinner would be terrific. The trip is about four hours from where we live in Connecticut. i assumed a drive up and back along one of the scenic routes.
Whoops. While I packed my laptop, he loaded the truck camper on our Dodge Ram. He mentioned casually that I should take a change of clothes. Thankfully I interpreted

Williams Park

that to mean three days.
Of we went. then he says he reserved a campsite. Okay. I sit back to enjoy the ride. For some reason the traffic past Boston and Cape Cod was light. The roadwork that seems a constant repair, slowed us for very little time.
We set up in the campground and headed out for dinner. I had this picture in my head of lobster.
There are lobster places all over. Lobster rolls, lobster bisque, mac and cheese with lobster on signs galore.
Here is the big but. These are your usual tourist eateries geared to handling the summer crowd. You walk in, stand in line, order over the counter, pay and wait for your tray. You take it inside in the AC or out on a patio, usually overlooking the water. I’m ready. My husband wants a restaurant. A sit-down, waiter, table with tablecloth restaurant.
He didn’t find one. Not on the first cruise through town. Not in the second town.
I’m hungry, but I know better than to ask when we’ll eat.
He’s on a quest.
He doesn’t want to eat outside in the heat. He wants what he wants. I don’t care. I just want lobster.
Today we’re stopping at a lobster pound, getting them steamed, grabbing side-dished from the supermarket and eating at the campground.
To keep me happy. He drove to the oldest lighthouse in Maine.
Beautiful park maintained by volunteers from town.
I’m glad we went. I got two thousand words done on my WIP and lobster.
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