There's a strange validation for me in having a kid, especially a really little one, accept me: be content being held by me or playing with me or what have you. I'm pretty relaxed and easy with kids of most ages, and they're not really a point of stress for me, but, especially with very young kids who don't really know me, there's always that moment of, "Hm, I'm really a stranger. Will [kid] be okay with me?" Although I don't take it personally if a kid does have stranger anxiety or not want to be held by me, especially if s/he doesn't know me, I really love it when it's no big deal.
While shopping downtown before catching the bus back yesterday, I bought a bottle of extra yummy 18 yo balsamic vinegar. (Psst, moominmolly, you'll like it!) And we got sandwiches at a place that makes its french fries in duck fat. The verdict on that, unsurprisingly, is yum. I obviously need to cook duck more often.
The drink report: We had bushwackers Friday night, of course; it's not a visit to Maine without at least one batch. Saturday, we tried a rum drink called the silent broadsider. I thought it was very tasty, but the overall verdict was that maybe it could use a little doctoring to be less rummy. Next time I'm up there, we'll try out folks' suggestions for storming the castle and report back!
I guess summer has arrived. I'd complain, but my tomato plants are setting fruit, so I'm happy.