Oh, how I wanted to paint at Stonington’s lovely harbor.

I’m whatever the opposite of a foodie is. I’m not much interested in the preparation, consumption or culture of food. It takes too much time. I especially dislike eating in restaurants, which can chew up hours of daylight. In the summer I live on a diet of protein bars. Not only do I lose weight, I waste very little time with the pesky business of food.

However, I have some genuine gourmets staying at my house this week, drawn in part by the fame of the mid-coast restaurant scene. They wanted to go out for breakfast. I doubted they would be satisfied with a dollar menu item from McDonald’s and I know you can always get something nice—and fast—at the Belfast Co-op.

Beautiful? Paintable? The view that got away? nah, I’ll just go back soon.

There, then, for breakfast. After, I shooed them up toward Acadia and headed to Stonington to deliver the buoy for Penobscot East Resource Center’s August auction.

It was a beautiful day at Stonington, the harbor singing its siren song of “paint me, paint me.” However, I had arranged to meet my family in Acadia, so north I went. After lunch I planned to set up at Thunder Hole to paint while they hiked and biked.

A few raindrops as we ate sandwiches began to coalesce into a blowing fog. “Let’s go up Cadillac Mountain and see if we can get above it,” I suggested. No such luck; the peak was blanketed in white.

Why classify lupines as invasive and not poison ivy? Everyone knows it’s the New Jersey state flower.

We proceeded to Thunder Hole, where it was raining and only slightly foggy. I was choosing my spot to paint when my husband pointed out that the thunder we were hearing wasn’t the roar from Thunder Hole but actual, atmospheric thunder.

I will paint in rain—to a point—and I like fog, but I’m afraid of electrical storms, particularly when using a metal pochade box.

“To heck with it,” I said. “Let’s go walk on the sand bar at Bar Harbor. The tide’s almost out anyway.” Which we did, and which was lovely.

If you can’t paint, you may as well amble amongst the barnacles.

I have a painting board from my pal Jamie Williams Grossman that I urgently want to test. “I can sneak in a quick painting this evening after I get home,” I told myself.

It wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized we’d get there after 7:30. If I were alone, I would skip dinner, but the six guests in my house might get fractious. So we stopped for supper in Lincolnville. I didn’t get home until 9 PM, and painting was off the table.

Oh, well. They leave tomorrow. I can paint anytime, but time with my family is precious.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in August 2015. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.