View from Robinson’s Wharf, Southport Island. Lillian Lake photo

The canning and preserving season is coming to an end. Sometime in the future months, before Christmas, I’ll make a batch of blueberry jam. The year I considered making jam from frozen berries was a stroke of genius. Of course, many cooks before me had thought of this, but I was slow to approach the idea. Freezing blueberries and cherries until later in the season has eased the stress of filling the pantry for winter. I wish tomatoes provided the same luxury.

Tomatoes are demanding and wait for no one. I prefer canning them rather than freezing them and dehydrating the skins before grinding them into a fine powder. With a bit of Yankee ingenuity, as my mother referred to such things, I can preserve the harvest reasonably efficiently. At the same time, I’ve learned to manage my time more efficiently.

This week, I used my preserved time to do something I’ve meant to do since before COVID: visit an online friend “summering” in Boothbay Harbor. Boothbay Harbor holds special memories for me as I spent several summers there earning money to pay for college and had various experiences, some of which shall remain in my memory bank and not be put to paper.

I am always happy for the opportunity to renew my acquaintance with the smell of ocean air, the unique sound of seagulls, and visiting the docks to watch not only the tide come in (similar to watching grass grow) but also watch the lobsterman bring their daily catch in for local vendors and restauranteurs.

Aimie McGraham connected with me through Twitter. I was co-hosting a chat for caregivers. She was looking to connect with other caregivers while caring for her mother. Her mother was an impressive artist with a recipe column in the Boothbay Register. Following her mother’s passing, Aimie revisited and renewed her mother’s recipe newsletter and embellished it with her perspective on food and related memories.

You can find her on substack: https://amiemcg.substack.com/about. It took us this many years to meet in person as summers are busy, and honestly, I’m not inclined to leave my oasis in the mountains. It always seemed like plenty of time to plan a visit between the beginning and end of the summer months.

Our time together flew as fast as the turkeys hanging out in Southport, an island connected by a draw bridge to mainland Boothbay. Her quaint, historical home looks out into the ocean through a looking-glass cove. Outside on her deck, the brilliant sun beat down on us, later combining delightfully with the ocean air as we ate lunch at Robinson’s Wharf. We chatted about “all of it,” learning more about each other’s life journey.

We ended the day with a drive around Southport, noting new mansions, time-worn homes of yesteryear, and the occasional graveyard dotting the landscape. As I hopped into my car, returning home with a freshly baked cardamom Bundt cake and the promise of a return visit, I waved goodbye to the fading summer ocean landscape.