It’s almost December and I find myself, for the first time in my life, in Maine during the off season. My parents have moved to a rural fishing village where they used to take us for a week or two of vacation in the summer. Their house, mostly windows, sits right on the bay. Everything – lying in bed, eating pretzels, playing cards – is done in full view of the ocean.
The village is hibernating now, restaurants closed and vacation homes shuttered. The stairs down the to rocky beaches have all been pulled up, and dot the lawns along the bay. It’s all very quiet and idyllic.
I’ve written about my love of tourist trap souvenir shops, which I’ve encountered most often and most fondly on this peninsula. I miss them now that they’re closed, the kitsch packed away while the tourists are gone. Still, the off season is sort of perfect for someone ill in the way that I am. I have lately, out of necessity, shrunk my life down to the size of my home and its immediate surroundings.
The surroundings here are cold and stark and stunning. The sea roses have been sheared down to brown nubs. The water is often gray and choppy. (Some mornings I look out the window and think look, the wine-dark sea!) There are no street lights, no ambient city glow – at night the house is enveloped in a velvety darkness so complete it feels like we are the sole inhabitants of a black hole.
Our days are very simple: My dad bird watches between work calls. My mom picks at the keys of her laptop and plays mahjong at the Y. I bring a cup of coffee out to the picnic table in the yard, where the view feels decidedly unreal. The wind whips my hair out of its ponytail, and when I get back inside I have to brush my bangs back onto my forehead. Shorty, our small elderly dog, dozes in sunbeams and snores.
There is a staggeringly beautiful sunset at four o’clock. The jagged curves of Maine’s coastline mean that ribbons of pink and orange sky reach over the ocean, reflecting off the water even though technically the sun doesn’t set over the Atlantic. Mom and I sit by the fire while Dad cooks dinner. Shorty follows him around the kitchen, bringing to mind the very origins of the word dogged.
Being here reminds me how pleasant it can be to move slowly. This December I’d like to rebuild the habit of reading, to write more often and less seriously, to become comfortable with silence again. It seems like these have been my goals for years, with varying degrees of dedication and success. But, as I try to remind myself, self-improvement is a lifelong practice, not an achievable one time act.
In the effort of less serious writing, and because the closed gift shops do not mean the absence of kitsch, I’d like to share with you the best worst things I’ve seen this week.
This week in kitsch:
Hair…we are!
An excellent barber shop sign spotted in a nearby town. The use of punctuation is masterful. Something about puns tends to piss people off, but personally I think more businesses should have stupid names. It makes life fun.
My Christmas flannel shirt
It’s not a new shirt, just one making its seasonal debut. Now that Thanksgiving’s over I’m gonna start wearing this bad boy again. The appliques always make me laugh. Why are there two Santas and only one reindeer? I don’t know, but they’re dancing! Cute!
Animated snow on the Mary Tyler Moore Show
I’ve been watching this show sporadically, usually putting in on while I crochet and only half paying attention. But this is maybe my favorite thing I’ve ever seen on a sitcom – snow painted on to the establishing shots of Mary’s apartment. It looks just slightly off, in an incredibly charming way.
Gone to the Beach Santa pillow from Target
Yeah, several of these are Christmas related! Tis the season, sue me!
I’ve always assumed this kind of I love the beach decor was made for people with summer homes, and therefore thematically limited to the summer. This Santa Claus twist on a classic is both inspired and confusing – I can’t imagine who the audience is for this pillow. If anyone has bought this, or knows someone who has bought this, please DM me. I have both questions & compliments.
The Rainforest Cafe’s afterlife
Technically, this news is over a week old, but I only found out about it this week when my roommate/bestie texted me this screenshot. As a noted Rainforest Cafe scholar, I felt it was my duty to share it with you all. I hope the new owners keep the decor intact.
A novelty purse from the 20’s that I saw on tumblr
She’s beautiful.
xoxo,
Franny 💋🍂
the off season
loved reading this today franny! hope you have a cozy new england winter. sending love from nh!