Day 28

I slept in Paul's room last night because no one was occupying it.  Clutch for the comfiness, Fail for being infinitely closer to the babies rooms.  I woke up at 815 and was fully prepared to leave for Maine.  I had everything packed I took a shower, I ate breakfast, and mentally I was ready to get to work.  My cousin-in-law drove me to the airport.  I love that guy, he is absolutely insane, and a kook, but he has a level head deep down.  He is erudite, and goofy at the same time.  He questions his beliefs and argues if you don't.  He is just classic.  So we talked about being orthodox on the way there, and following all of God's commandments.  Nina, his wife and my cousin, majored in religion so there was a number of times where he would read her textbooks and wonder about his own religion.  Personally, I think its brilliant to question what you have always done, or always known.  So we got to the airport he dropped me off, exchanged a bear hug, and I was on my way.  I checked my big green duffle and I knew it was going to be overweigh, but 90 dollars extra, really?  Classic airport.  And then I turned the corner to get in line for security.  Classic case of a circuitous line.  I thought i wouldn't make my flight, but the line went extremely fast.  I probably got done in 15 minutes.  Although the ridiculous security checker made me go through the scanner 3 times.  So usually when I go through security I walk through the metal detector.  If I am walking through I don't need to take my belt off, because it never makes the machine go off.  Unfortunately the person in front me as diverted to going through the body scan, and so was the rest of the line.  So I went through the first time with my belt on and who knows what in my pockets.  Nothing that would get detected for metal, but miscellaneous papers and whatnot.  I walked in, and she told me to lift my arms up in the position depicted in front of me.  What's in your back pockets?  Just some papers.  You're going to need to take those off.  I got out of line and threw my papers and some money into my box just before it was swallowed by the scanner.  I came back and a second time she said lift your arms.  Why are you wearing your belt?  I left line and went to take it off, and by this time my luggage had gone through so I went to the front and asked the first lady if I could just throw my belt in with her belongings.  Her 30 or-so-year-old daughter said Mom! Don't let him put his stuff with yours!  OK... don't know what I did to her, but I stayed out of her way.  So i found someone nice enough to let me put my belt in their box, and went back through to finally pass.  Goodness gracious lady.  So I got a pretzel at Aunte Annies with some mustard and a Dasani water, and I was good to go.  I waited at my gate and boarded this unusually small plane to Philadelphia.  I slept the whole 45 minutes, so that was nice.  I got off the plane, and scanned the aisles of the Philly gates where I was, and there was nothing.  I had to get a mystery meat sandwich, that wasn't all that bad, but every time I looked at what I was eating, I couldn't make out what it could be.  So I futzed around for an hour and half or so, and then it was time to board my next flight to Portland, Maine.  It was drizzling very light when I landed, and that is a plus no matter where I am.  The airport was very quaint, and I picked up my duffel and waited of Harold Gram to pick me up.  His green honda civic pulled up, and out came this 5'7 scruffy, man wearing very ripped jeans, and a tattered flannel, with matching addidas sandals.  Classic if you ask me.  And even more classic his speedometer was broken.  The ride back to the farm was unbelievably gorgeous.  The rain even added a little something to the beauty of it.  The lakes and the peninsulas, were off the chain.  We talked...rephrase...Harold talked for most of the trip and when he wasn't I was starstruck by the immaculate beauty of the landscape.  We talked about everything from my last farm, to his farm, to his life, to my life, to what my hobbies are, to where I want to go to college, to what I want to study...literally everything...classic.  We drove through many small towns, and I saw where my good friend, Leo, goes to school at Boudin, and I saw where my other good friend, Wayne ( not the classic technician form yesterday ) goes to school at Colby.  We finally, after an hour and a half pulled up to an old house with a barn in the back of it.  I got my belongings and pulled my duffel in.  An old rickety house, with freaky wood floors, and very outmoded appliances.  Not really comparable to my last farm in Emmitsburg.  But the thing I liked was that this house had personality.  It was homey, cozy, and petite.  They showed me to my room, and I have a bed and drawers, and I share a bathroom with the rest of the family.  It's a pretty nice setup.  I thought it was going to be much more barbaric.  They have five sons, and three live here and only one really is in charge of the farm.  His name is Josh, and he is 31 with a girlfriend from Puerto Rico who lives in the house as well.  Ross is 22 and he went to art school, and is still currently pursuing a career in drawing, which is badass as hell, I want to work with him.  Troy is 25 and I am not exactly sure what he does, but I think he sings.  We sat down for dinner, and as soon as we took our seats the whole family joined in hands.  Uh....what is going on?  Grace...classic.  I have never been apart of grace before so that was new.  I just put my head down and didn't say anything.  I didn't feel that uncomfortable, I kind of just went with the flow.  But it was interesting.  So after dinner, which was pot pies ( I have never had before, but it was delicious ) Harold showed me around the farm quickly.  Boy, they sure have a lot of greenhouse room.  Which is cool because I want to do plant work.  They also have  bunch of wood to be chopped which is exciting because I have never experienced that.  Lo and Behold they have chickens...eff that.  I can't stand them.  And tomorrow morning I think I will be feeding and watering and collecting eggs from them.  Brings me back to Whitmore.  I have a certain inclination, that the farm isn't very organized.  Harold is a smart man, but very scatter brained, and he said a bunch of times how inefficient some of the days can be.  I think some of my work from Whitmore will actually come in handy.  The way they had it there seems insanely organized compared to what I will be doing here, as far as I can tell.  Maybe not though, I will see tomorrow though.  After dinner we watched How to Train Your Dragon collectively as a family, and it was amazing.  I love that movie.  After I just hungout, and worked on blogs.  I just went to get ready for bed and took a dookie, and was scared that the toilet wouldn't even flush it.  Just to give you a picture of how antiquated the house is.  Anyways, first day tomorrow.  Nighty.