Four of us, friends and neighbors, teamed up Saturday to bake some pies. We decided the Beach Schoolhouse kitchen (aka the LIA) would be the place to do it, so we trucked our supplies down there and got to work.

We’d committed to making four  quiches for the Historical Society’s Pie Sale to be held the next day. Did you know that Congress declared Pi Day official in 2009? What is PI anyway? It’s 3.1415926…… , the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. Of course it’s just an excuse to make pies, sell pies, and eat pies on March 14.

But in this poor excuse of a winter-turning-reluctantly-to-spring it was a welcome chance for the four of us to gather in the same room, to talk and laugh, and make those pies. All of an age, we’d each spent the past year hunkered down – with a spouse, with a small pod of family intimates or alone with a dog or two for company. Human contact might have been a daily phone call to a distant sister, or perhaps a hurried, furtive trip to pick up eggs from a neighbor’s flock.

That would be mine, and I’ve grown used to grabbing my mask when I see someone pull in my driveway, empty egg cartons in hand. I watch astonished to see the nine-year-old (part of my upstairs family) run out to greet the mailman with his T-shirt pulled up over his mouth and nose. The children are scrupulous about masks.

But now the four of us, along with so many others, have been vaccinated. Our pie-making morning was a coming out party of sorts, albeit a cautious one. There we were, all over 70, a couple on the far side of 75, chattering away as women do, but it felt so fresh. We kept marveling at how good it was to just be together. Like Rip van Winkle waking up from his long sleep, our hair had grown out – “when was your last haircut?”, and there was so much to talk about.

“Is this a dog-friendly building?” Cyrene wanted to know.

“Now it is,” I decided.

Not that it hadn’t always been, but it was fun to say it, and she promptly brought in her two little Havanese, Moira and Maggie, black and gray dustmops. Those two were regulars at our Monday night knitting group, cuddled up together on my couch, well out of the way of Fritz’s overly-friendly advances. Knitting night was another casualty of the pandemic. Outdoor lunches in each other’s gardens got us through until the weather turned.

An aside: I looked up Havanese to check the spelling and learned that: “this breed of little dog has won many admirers with their long, silky hair, expressive eyes, and cuddly size. Bred as a companion dog to the Cuban aristocracy in the 1800s, they’ve earned the nickname “Velcro dog” because they stick so closely to their owner’s side.”

The changes of this shut-down year are both obvious and subtle. Have you driven through Camden lately and counted the empty storefronts? It’s somewhere between seven and nine. Gone are Sherman’s Books, Surroundings, Children’s Specialty, Camden Embroidery, The Right Stuff, Theo B. Camisole, Drouthy Bear, Josephine’s, Sage, and maybe more.

Interestingly, the Main Streets in Belfast and Rockland don’t seem to have had the same wave of closings.

The Midcoast’s wonderful array of restaurants has been hit hard, even as many have stayed alive through take-out, and in the summer, outdoor seating.         

But we the people have taken it the hardest. From the proverbial grandparents-who-can’t-hug-the-little-ones, sharing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table, walking into a favorite restaurant, or sitting at your desk surrounded by classmates, everyone of us has been affected.

And some are a bit anxious about how this reintegration into society will go. Zoom church in jammies may be hard to give up when it means getting dressed in real clothes and driving the car to in-person services.

“I’ve become a real introvert,” said one friend from way up in her house on a hill. “Whenever I go out, I can’t wait to get back home.”

Most of us, though, are nearly giddy at the prospect of returning to whatever normal turns out to be. Masks? We feel naked without them; it shouldn’t be much of a burden to continue wearing them in public. But maskless with our vaccinated cohorts sounds almost normal.

Sitting down inside a restaurant or in the barber’s chair, wandering through a shop or the shelves of the library, gathering around the dinner table with the extended family: I can’t wait.

We’re not there yet as Dr. Fauci and Dr. Shah and President Biden keep telling us, but finally it feels like we can see the other side.

Town

Just a reminder that nomination papers for town positions are available now at the Town Office. There are openings on the school committee, board of selectmen, budget committee and CSD board. All you need to do to become part of town government is to get 25-100 signatures of registered Lincolnville voters on your nomination papers and return them to the office by April 9. Oh, that and get elected in June!

Lincolnville Historical Society

Thanks to all the bakers who provided some 68 homemade pies and quiches, Sunday’s Pie Sale brought in some $1,100 to go towards the repair of the old Beach Schoolhouse, home of the Historical Society. Many thanks go to the buyers as well, picking up their pre-ordered pies at the very efficient drive-through system that’s been organized at 33 Beach Road.

Do you have Irish ancestry? Here’s a Virtual Irish Genealogy Workshop you can attend, Tuesday, March 30, 9 a.m.-1:30 p.m. sponsored by Ireland’s Ulster Historical Foundation

 which has made available Irish records for family historians. Register here.

Feast or Famine: Donating Locally

Even though we’ve all been affected, this pandemic year hasn’t treated us equally, especially when it comes to finances. On one end of the scale people are out of work, out of food, maybe even out of their homes, while at the far other end, really wealthy people are raking it in. I can only speak for myself here, but as the widow of a teacher (who has his pension) and no mortgage or car payment, this year of inactivity has also meant much less spending. I suspect I’m not alone.

While public suppers, WingDings, and Festivals of all kinds are out, the organizations that count on these events still have bills to pay. So does the Belfast Soup Kitchen, our churches, Good Neighbor funds, LifeFlight, private schools, libraries, animal shelters, and the many other non-profits that enrich our lives here in the Midcoast. People often sit down in December and send out checks to their favorite groups; wouldn’t March be a good time to do the same? Any day now that stimulus/relief money will land in our bank accounts; if you don’t need it, why not pass it on?

Condolences

Lifelong Lincolnvillian Fred Moody died unexpectedly last week. If you didn’t know Fred, perhaps you’ve enjoyed the cranberries and he and Margo grow at their home in the Center.

And word that Arthur Small passed away in December was just received here in town. Arthur had a family cottage on Slab City Road, where he spent every summer until recent years.