friday is ferry day

I'm marking the days to tomorrow's book launch with feverish anticipation. I helped Rose Ann dress the window at Take a Peak this morning. Cute.

Most people don't know that I worked on the interior design of this little shop next to Down Front,
the island's ice cream store and summer magnet spot. I illustrated a Queen Anne's lace for the logo, and staffed the store sometimes during the first summer it was open. I hand painted a children's table and chairs for display.
Look, now it has Seven Days of Daisy in the mix!

I've sent Marty to town for watermelon. There will be a seed spitting session tomorrow, no doubt.

 

You can spot an islander by these humble little carts, the workhorses that haul our lives back and forth.

The ferry is a significant feature of island living, one that is some days a blessing, other days a curse.

I made this pastel "Sweet Departure" after one summer of too many guests. The best part is watching a ferry leave and you can just go home and flop in the hammock.

 

Many people have come and gone from island living, and the ferry is probably one factor. It's a trusty and lovely way to commute, the deckhands are the BEST, but it's catching that boat that can make or break you.

Here's a shot of nostalgia, from the former Peaks Island Mercantile Calendar, a photograph by my neighbor, Dave Stankowitz. He knows a good visual pun when he sees one.

Of the 20 mommies and babies here, 6 are still living on Peaks. Four of the babies here are in Seven Days of Daisy. Can you guess who?

I happen to love the ferry, even the thrill of catching one. Of course, I grumbled last week when I left my cart on the morning boat to town, and only realized it as I opened the back to unload groceries in the ferry garage. It was safely waiting in the freight shed to be reclaimed (love) but there wasn't quite enough time to unload my grocs (hate) and make the boat. I stupidly fumed about my witless blunder for an hour til the next one. And then the view made me forget all about it.

I have featured both Peaks and some vintage tickets in collage cards, odes to my adoration.

It's a lovely trip, only 15 minutes or so, about equal to the time I once spent finding a parking spot when I lived in San Francisco. But Casco Bay Lines always guarantees a good view, salty friends, and fresh air.

The weather tomorrow may not be as divine as today. But as Nancy 3 Hoffman of the Umbrella Cover Museum sings, "Let a smile be your umbrella."

Only one day to the book launch!
Curious City will help make it shine, with or without the sun.