text and photos by Maine Boats, Homes & Harbor’s Polly Saltonstall

It’s that time of year when the garden is growing so fast that I can no longer keep up. Peas finally are done. But beans, beets, peppers, chard, kale, carrots, broccoli, and even eggplant and potatoes are all ready for eating. I checked out the cukes this morning and have a dozen or more ready to pickle. Combine this with a full-time job, children on summer vacation, and houseguests, and I do not think I’ll be getting much sleep for a while. Just have to remind myself this is a joyful bounty.

painting by Jessica Ives

If you really must know, there’s nothing I love more than being in the water all summer long. ​Come September I won’t mind if I’m still dripping from behind my ears; my smile will extend along the entire surface of the lake until it’s simply too gosh darn cold and I have to get out.

***

Every Tuesday The Maine will post a new painting by Jessica Ives. These small works, all 4 x 4 inches on cradled birchwood panels, will be concurrently listed for auction on dailypaintworks.com, a fantastic platform designed by artists, for artists. View the auction for this painting here, or simply click on the image above.

Tuesday 207 paintings are exclusive to The Maine. They depict the land, the light and the people that make this state a state of wonder. Visit the growing gallery of Tuesday 207 paintings here.

Jessica is the editor of The Maine and writes occasionally as The Outsider.

photograph by Jane Kurko

Michaela Coleman reminds us of the most urgent, and orienting activities when returning home:

Perfect first day in Maine. Picked blueberries on mount Battie then went for a swim in Megunticook. Feels good to be home.

ironmantra by Shannon Thompson

I can’t believe how scared I am. Holy shit. My anxiety is off the charts, and it’s over something that is actually of no consequence whatsoever. That’s the part that makes me laugh and keeps me relatively sane. It’s all so freaking absurd, really it is. I mean, COME ON. Yes, yes, yes, I’ve worked hard and it’s going to be tough and blah blah blah, but WHO CARES? It’s a totally made up thing. It’s not cancer, it’s not violence, it’s not the Kardashians or any of these truly scary things. I’m not worried about getting hurt, or anything that matters. Not even worried about not finishing. A little worried about being so uncomfortable for so long. Mostly just terrified. It’s like I feel when I fly: I’m not actually scared of dying, I’m just scared of being that scared.

I’m also scared of my own mind. How kind will I be to myself tomorrow? We’ll just have to see.

So la la la. Spent the day organizing my stuff into bike and run gear for the transitions after the swim and the bike, bike and run “special needs” bags, for halfway between both events, the stuff I need after the race, my nutrition for the whole event. Checked it all in, was so stressed out that total strangers told me to breathe, got talked off the ledge a few times by my fabulous coach, Scott, and a few kind IMLP veterans, then had a pretty good time soaking up the excitement of the scene. Picked up my quadruple espresso from the coffee shop to stick in the fridge for bike mile 56 and the start of the run.

(Scott Layton, Ironman athlete, coach and hypnotherapist.)

(I’m serious. It is not a joke.)

Feet up, foam roller, the Lake Placid hockey movie “Miracle” streaming on the laptop, a hot bath and a light dinner, earplugs, two alarms set for 3:00…

photographs by Justin Gove

…the other pollinators.

photograph by John Ames

 photograph by Kathi Bahr

Friday night surf fishing. Beats the sailor bars downtown. Tonight at least. Popham Beach, ME.