Southern Charm Up North: Tales of a Maine Magnolia

Southern Charm Up North: Tales of a Maine Magnolia Join me as I navigate the unique blend of cultures, climates, and cuisines that is MS-meets-ME!

Some Sundays are meant for church, big family lunches, and a full day of doing. And then, there are Sundays like today—w...
03/16/2025

Some Sundays are meant for church, big family lunches, and a full day of doing. And then, there are Sundays like today—wrapped in a thick fog, whispering that the world can wait.

The kind of day where the fire crackles softly, and the most ambitious plan you make is to move from the couch to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Where pajamas aren’t just an outfit but a commitment. A good book, a slow stew on the stove, maybe an old movie humming in the background—this is the rhythm of a foggy Sunday.

Maine knows these days well. The mist rolls in off the water, blurring the line between sea and sky, turning the world into a quiet, dreamlike painting. And in the South? Well, we may not have the coastal fog in quite the same way, but we know the slow, cozy magic of a gray day just the same.

So today, let’s embrace it. Let the to-do list wait. Pull the blanket tighter, let the fire burn down low, and breathe in the quiet comfort of a day that asks nothing from you except to simply be.

Happy Sunday, friends. Hope it’s a cozy one. ❤️

03/16/2025

March 15, 2025 (Saturday)

March 15 is a crucially important day in U.S. history As the man who taught me to use a chainsaw said, it is immortalized by Shakespeare’s famous warning: “Cedar! Beware the adze of March!”

He put it that way because the importance of March 15 is, of course, that it is the day in 1820 that Maine, the Pine Tree State, joined the Union.

Maine statehood had national repercussions. The inhabitants of this northern part of Massachusetts had asked for statehood in 1819, but their petition was stopped dead by southerners who refused to permit a free state—one that did not permit human enslavement—to enter the Union without a corresponding “slave state.” The explosive growth of the northern states had already given free states control of the House of Representatives, but the South held its own in the Senate, where each state got two votes. The admission of Maine would give the North the advantage, and southerners insisted that Maine’s admission be balanced with the admission of a southern slave state lest those opposed to slavery use their power in the federal government to restrict enslavement in the South.

They demanded the admission of Missouri to counteract Maine’s two “free” Senate votes.
But this “Missouri Compromise” infuriated northerners, especially those who lived in Maine. They swamped Congress with petitions against admitting Missouri as a slave state, resenting that slave owners in the Senate could hold the state of Maine hostage until they got their way. Tempers rose high enough that Thomas Jefferson wrote to Massachusetts—and later Maine—senator John Holmes that he had for a long time been content with the direction of the country, but that the Missouri question “like a fire bell in the night, awakened and filled me with terror. I considered it at once as the knell of the Union. It is hushed indeed for the moment, but this is a reprieve only, not a final sentence.”

Congress passed the Missouri Compromise, but Jefferson was right to see it as nothing more than a reprieve.

The petition drive that had begun as an effort to keep the admission of Maine from being tied to the admission of Missouri continued as a movement to get Congress to whittle away at slavery where it could—by, for example, outlawing slave sales in the nation’s capital—and would become a key point of friction between the North and the South.

There was also another powerful way in which the conditions of the state’s entry into the Union would affect American history. Mainers were angry that their statehood had been tied to the demands of far distant slave owners, and that anger worked its way into the state’s popular culture. The opening of the Erie Canal in 1825 meant that Maine men, who grew up steeped in that anger, could spread west.

And so they did.

In 1837, Elijah P. Lovejoy, who had moved to Alton, Illinois, from Albion, Maine, to begin a newspaper dedicated to the abolition of human enslavement, was murdered by a pro-slavery mob, who threw his printing press into the Mississippi River.

Elijah Lovejoy’s younger brother, Owen, had also moved west from Maine. Owen saw Elijah shot and swore his allegiance to the cause of abolition. "I shall never forsake the cause that has been sprinkled with my brother's blood," he declared. He turned to politics, and in 1854 he was elected to the Illinois state legislature. His increasing prominence brought him political friends, including an up-and-coming lawyer who had arrived in Illinois from Kentucky, Abraham Lincoln.

Lovejoy and Lincoln were also friends with another Maine man gone to Illinois. Elihu Washburne had been born in Livermore, Maine, in 1816, when Maine was still part of Massachusetts. He was one of seven brothers, and one by one, his brothers had all left home, most of them to move west. Israel Washburn Jr., the oldest, stayed in Maine, but Cadwallader moved to Wisconsin, and William Drew would follow, going to Minnesota. (Elihu was the only brother who spelled his last name with an e).

Israel and Elihu were both serving in Congress in 1854 when Congress passed the Kansas-Nebraska Act, overturning the Missouri Compromise and permitting the spread of slavery to the West. Furious, Israel called a meeting of 30 congressmen in May to figure out how they could come together to stand against the Slave Power that had commandeered the government to spread the South’s system of human enslavement. They met in the rooms of Representative Edward Dickinson, of Massachusetts—whose talented daughter Emily was already writing poems—and while they came to the meeting from all different political parties, they left with one sole principle: to stop the Slave Power that was turning the government into an oligarchy.

The men scattered for the summer back to their homes across the North, sharing their conviction that a new party must rise to stand against the Slave Power. In the fall, those calling themselves “anti-Nebraska” candidates were sweeping into office—Cadwallader Washburn would be elected from Wisconsin in 1854 and Owen Lovejoy from Illinois in 1856—and they would, indeed, create a new political party: the Republicans. The new party took deep root in Maine, flipping the state from Democratic to Republican in 1856, the first time it fielded a presidential candidate.

In 1859, Abraham Lincoln would articulate an ideology for the party, defining it as the party of ordinary Americans standing together against the oligarchs of slavery, and when he ran for president in 1860, he knew it was imperative that he get the momentum of Maine men on his side. In those days Maine voted for state and local offices in September, rather than November, so a party’s win in Maine could start a wave. “As Maine goes, so goes the nation,” the saying went.

So Lincoln turned for his vice president to Hannibal Hamlin, who represented Maine in the Senate (and whose father had built the house in which the Washburns grew up). Lincoln won 62% of the vote in Maine in 1860, taking all eight of the state’s electoral votes, and went on to win the election. When he arrived in Washington quietly in late February to take office the following March, Elihu Washburne was at the railroad station to greet him.

I was not a great student in college. I liked learning, but not on someone else’s timetable. It was this story that woke me up and made me a scholar. I found it fascinating that a group of ordinary people from country towns who shared a fear that they were losing their democracy could figure out how to work together to reclaim it.

Happy Birthday, Maine.

[Photo by Buddy Poland.]

Wrapping up the day in Augusta with a quick meal at State Lunch—because after a long day, good food and a solid cocktail...
03/14/2025

Wrapping up the day in Augusta with a quick meal at State Lunch—because after a long day, good food and a solid cocktail just hit different. The menu never disappoints, the staff is always welcoming, and the atmosphere makes it easy to kick back and unwind.

Whether you’re stopping in for a quick bite or making a night of it, State Lunch is always a good call. Highly recommend if you’re ever in the area!

Today at noon, I’m heading to Augusta for the Veterans March. As a veteran, I believe in standing up for those who serve...
03/14/2025

Today at noon, I’m heading to Augusta for the Veterans March. As a veteran, I believe in standing up for those who served and ensuring that our voices are heard. Whether it’s about benefits, healthcare, or simply honoring the sacrifices of those who came before us, showing up matters.

For me, this isn’t just about policy—it’s about the brotherhood and sisterhood that service creates. It’s about making sure that every veteran, no matter their branch or background, knows they are seen, valued, and supported.

If you’re in the area, I hope to see you there. If you can’t be there in person, take a moment today to reach out to a veteran in your life. A simple “thank you” goes a long way.

A Perfect Maine EveningStarted with a little shopping in Rockland, took in the beauty of two lighthouses—Marshall Point ...
03/13/2025

A Perfect Maine Evening

Started with a little shopping in Rockland, took in the beauty of two lighthouses—Marshall Point (cue the Forrest Gump run) and Owls Head—then wrapped it all up with trivia night at Marshall Wharf Brewing in Belfast. And the best part? We got to catch up with our good friend Arnaud from Homeport Inn and Tavern!

Oh, and Mississippi didn’t come in last at trivia… which, if you ask me, is almost as exciting as those lighthouse views. Almost.

Bonus highlight: JD bravely tackled his first-ever raw oysters at Marshall Wharf. The verdict? Let’s just say Maine might have made a believer out of him.

Maine Magnolia: Sharing My Love of MaineThere’s something about sharing a place you love with the people you love. Watch...
03/12/2025

Maine Magnolia: Sharing My Love of Maine

There’s something about sharing a place you love with the people you love. Watching my family experience Maine through my eyes—the way the air smells like salt and pine, the way the ocean stretches endlessly beyond the rocky shore—fills my heart in a way I can’t quite explain.

I get a little too excited when I hand them a proper lobster roll (grilled bun, warm butter, because I am not a mayo person). I point out every wild blueberry field, every charming harbor town, every lighthouse standing steadfast against the waves. I make them try Moxie (just once, for the experience) and force them to slow down and breathe deep when we step into Acadia, where the world feels wide and wild and wonderfully still.

I know they’ll never love it quite like I do—after all, Maine gets into your soul in a way that’s hard to describe. But when I see them close their eyes as they take in the view from Cadillac Mountain or when they sigh in satisfaction after that last bite of fresh seafood, I know they get it. And that’s enough.

Because sharing Maine isn’t just about the food or the views—it’s about sharing a piece of myself. And that’s the best part.


A Bangor Kind of AfternoonSome days just call for good food, fun games, and even better company—so that’s exactly what w...
03/10/2025

A Bangor Kind of Afternoon

Some days just call for good food, fun games, and even better company—so that’s exactly what we found at Paddy Murphy’s and Two Feet Brewing in Bangor!

Paddy’s served up the perfect mix of hearty comfort and lively atmosphere (plus a pint or two, because, well… when in an Irish pub, right?). And in a moment of pure joy, Clara finally found her beloved pickleback shot—a victory worth celebrating! Then we wandered over to Two Feet Brewing, where the craft brews were as smooth as the conversations and the games kept us laughing long past our first round.

There’s something about a local spot where the food is great, the drinks are cold, and the people make you feel right at home. Bangor, you never disappoint!

Where’s your go-to spot for a laid-back, fun afternoon? 🍻

Well, y’all, it finally happened—it’s snowing! Ever since she arrived, Mom has been watching the sky like a hawk, hoping...
03/10/2025

Well, y’all, it finally happened—it’s snowing! Ever since she arrived, Mom has been watching the sky like a hawk, hoping for a little magic, and today, she got her wish. Now, we’re not talking about a blizzard—no drifts, no howling winds—but a sweet, peaceful covering. The kind that makes the world look a little softer, a little quieter, like a fresh start in white.

There’s something special about watching someone see snow the way they want to—whether it’s a Mississippi girl marveling at the first flakes or a lifelong Mainer seeing winter through new eyes.

So here’s to small wishes coming true, Monday mornings that sparkle just a little bit more, and the joy of seeing the world through someone else’s wonder.

Did y’all wake up to snow this morning? Tell me how it’s looking where you are! ❄️✨

03/09/2025
Some nights just hit all the right notes—literally. We had the best time introducing the family to one of our favorite s...
03/09/2025

Some nights just hit all the right notes—literally. We had the best time introducing the family to one of our favorite spots, Homeport Inn and Tavern, where the crispy Brussels sprouts were a hit, the crawfish étouffée had just the right touch of Southern soul, and the crème brûlée made sure we ended on a sweet note.

But the real cherry on top? The live music that took us through the best decades—the ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s. Nothing sets the mood like great food paired with the kind of tunes that make you want to linger just a little longer.

And speaking of timeless classics, Mom wrapped up the night with a Stinger, because good taste never goes out of style.

Good food, warm laughter, and the perfect soundtrack—just the way a family night out should be.

It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that in a country with so much, there are still families — our neighbors — who...
03/06/2025

It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that in a country with so much, there are still families — our neighbors — who don’t have enough to eat. Food is so much more than just something we need to survive. It’s how we celebrate, how we comfort, how we care for each other.

I’ve always believed that good food should be within reach for everyone, and I love seeing places like the Belfast Community Co-op working to make that happen.

If you have a minute, check out the important work they’re doing to fight for food access right here in our own communities: https://belfast.coop/fighting-for-food-access/

Because everyone deserves a seat at the table.

1 in 8 people in Maine struggle with food insecurity. Join the Belfast Community Co-op to demand vital food access programs remain strong!

What a fun night at The Club Marina and Bar in Stockton Springs! Paint and Sip was a blast, thanks to the amazing Michel...
03/06/2025

What a fun night at The Club Marina and Bar in Stockton Springs! Paint and Sip was a blast, thanks to the amazing Michelle from Cover Me In Art — the best instructor we could’ve asked for!

Great music, delicious food and cocktails, and the absolute best people made it a night to remember. Loved catching up with old friends and making some new ones along the way!

And of course, Ricky held down the fort at the bar while we all got creative — the perfect way to spend an evening on the coast. Already looking forward to the next one!

The Raven’s CallEach morning they gather, dark wings unfold,Feathers like ink, glinting blue-black and bold.They perch o...
03/05/2025

The Raven’s Call

Each morning they gather, dark wings unfold,
Feathers like ink, glinting blue-black and bold.
They perch on the fencepost, they circle the sky,
Calling my name with a curious cry.

I scatter my offerings, humble and small —
A scrap, a crust, a kindness — that’s all.
They take what I give with a glimmering eye,
Then vanish like shadows where treetops lie.

But they leave me treasures, their own kind of grace —
A smooth stone, a shell, a feather in place.
Tokens of trust from talon to hand,
Gifts from a kingdom I barely understand.

The wild speaks softly when you learn how to hear —
In the rustle of wings, in the hush drawing near.
My ravens, my watchers, my ink-colored choir,
Bringing secrets and stories and something much higher.

We barter in silence, in trinkets and care —
A covenant whispered between earth and air.
And though they may fly when the cold winds call,
They’ll always return — dark messengers all.

To my sweet friends in Maine and beyond — forgive me for flooding your feed with pictures, but I hope you’ll understand....
03/04/2025

To my sweet friends in Maine and beyond — forgive me for flooding your feed with pictures, but I hope you’ll understand.

Every time I step outside and see this — the sky painted in colors I couldn’t dream up if I tried, the water holding onto the first light of day like it knows how lucky it is — I feel my soul take a deep breath.

This is the kind of beauty that never gets old. The kind that reminds me why I fell in love with Maine in the first place. And even after all this time, I still catch myself whispering, thank you.

So, I’ll keep sharing — not to show off, but to remind you (and myself) that there’s so much beauty left to see. Wherever you are, I hope you find your own little patch of peace today.

Because a sky like this? It’s too good not to share.

Y’all ever try to squeeze in a quick shopping trip before the whole family descends like a flock of seagulls on a droppe...
03/03/2025

Y’all ever try to squeeze in a quick shopping trip before the whole family descends like a flock of seagulls on a dropped french fry? That was today. A hop, skip, and a jump over to Bangor, lists in hand, fully prepared to forget half of it the second we walked into the first store.

But all good adventures start with a meal, and today’s came courtesy of The Coach House — where the staff treats you like kin (the good kind of kin, not the ones who show up unannounced and stay for three weeks).

Ricky dove into a hearty bowl of chili with homemade tortilla chips — the kind that make you rethink every bag of chips you’ve ever bought. And I couldn’t resist the special — a fried clam basket that tasted like summer and salt air, even if the forecast said, “March with a side of mud.”

The food was good enough to make me pause the to-do list and just be. That cozy corner booth, the clatter of dishes, the friendly waitress calling folks by name — it reminded me why I love little spots like this. They feed more than your stomach. They feed your soul, and Lord knows, we’re gonna need some soul food before the whole gang rolls in.

The shopping got done…mostly. A few impulse buys snuck into the bags (I’m looking at you, unnecessary-but-adorable seasonal dish towels). But we made it home full and happy, ready to brace for the beautiful chaos that is family.

If you see me next week stress-eating leftover tortilla chips in the pantry, mind your business.

The world feels different at sunrise on the Cape,where the cold doesn’t just bite — it awakens.The tide rests beneath a ...
03/03/2025

The world feels different at sunrise on the Cape,
where the cold doesn’t just bite — it awakens.

The tide rests beneath a blanket of ice,
each ripple paused mid-breath,
as if the bay itself holds reverence
for the first spill of light over the horizon.

The air is sharp,
but the silence is softer than snow,
wrapping around me like a memory I can’t quite place —
familiar, fleeting, beautiful.

There’s a quiet belonging here,
where no one asks why you’re standing alone at dawn,
where the wind doesn’t care what you’re wearing,
where the sun rises anyway,
painting the sky in colors that feel like grace.

Maine, in the stillness,
reminds me why I love her.









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