I went to a farm last Saturday.

When I got there, I was greeted by Aaron Bell, a member of the 8th generation of Bells to tend the land at Tide Mill Organic Farm, a 1600-acre rolling green saltwater farm in the coastal town of Edmunds, Maine and the subject of my latest story for The Ellsworth American.

Is it nine already? He guided me straight to a tractor. He had to grab some hay bales to set up a shooting target for his mother, who had won the state-run lottery system which granted her a rare license to hunt a moose. She didn’t want it to go to waste. I could ride along if I wanted.

I squeezed in to the one-seat machine, my butt pressed up against the glass,  my head hunched over into his face. He guessed I couldn’t take any notes.

With a joystick, he guided a pointy, rusted tractor needle into big bales of hay. They were wrapped in white plastic and looked like big, stacked marshmallows. With his strong, tan right hand he held his 14-month-old, Ruth. The young blonde infant smiled and laughed as she grabbed hold of the wheel, head-down, determined to help.

Aaron didn’t like the looks of he first monstrous marshmallow he stabbed, but the second seemed alright. So off we went.

We rolled across the breathtaking land to the field where I met his dad, Bob, who also lives on the property. He runs a sustainable wood harvesting business with his brother, Aaron’s uncle. He asked me right away, smiling widely, if I had ever hunted before (I obviously hadn’t).

I told him, like a fool, that I had always wanted to see a moose, but hadn’t managed to catch a glimpse of one yet.

He escaped to his house, and came urgently back with a book made by Aaron’s 12-year old daughter. It told the story of the year that Aaron was won the moose hunting permit. It was professionally bound, color photos and all. I flipped through it, impressed, until I got to the end. The image of a a big, bloody moose carcass surrounded by a smiling family crew seared itself into my mind.

“There, now you’ve seen a moose!” he said, pleased.

Tide Mill was an unbelievable spot and the Bells were incredibly welcoming, smart and hardworking. My day there was another reminder why we should eat local and eat organic whenever we can–to support people like this!

Here are some of my pictures:

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out&about

Despite my constant struggle against jetlag and a tragic lack of coffee, I’ve found time for plenty of excitement. Here are the highlights:

The Cake Cafe

A favorite so far was our visit to The Cake Cafe. If you aren’t already sold by the name, I’ll describe further. The cafe is hidden slightly off of the bustling Camden Street. It seems you need to be “in the know” to even find it, for you have to walk through an adorable stationary store to even reach the storefront. We aren’t in the know at all, but luckily our friends have an amazing adviser whose wisdom they share. The cafe is in a little alleyway that is decorated as if it is to be used as the backdrop of an Anthropologie catalog. Mosaics and vines line the walls of the outside sitting area which is partially covered by a wooden overhang. We pretty much all ordered eggs and soldiers, which was a serving of baked eggs with buttered toast on the side, and the food couldn’t have tasted any better to us, who had been craving breakfast food for days. I only regret not being able to taste their vegetarian version of beans on toast, which is apparently a common dish in Ireland and something that my sister, Erica, actually eats sometimes at home in America. Who would’ve thunk.

Tradfest

Last night, fueled by that delicious brunch, we decided to head to the Temple Bar area for Tradfest. This was a days-long festival of “Trad” or traditional Irish music. The idea was that there would be bands playing live traditional Irish music in the pubs throughout the area, and people could pub hop at their leisure and hear a selection. That’s not really how it ended up, though. The pubs were all jam-packed it seemed, and we could barely squeeze our six-person group through to order drinks let alone find a place to park and comfortably listen to the music. Oh, well. Here’s us having our drinks in the one place we could fit: an alley out back.

Toni’s Diner

Anyone who knows me well knows that I can’t resist a good diner. So, I was thrilled to find this one, so close to where I live and go to school. Toni’s specialties are interesting takes on fries. I tried the curry cheese fries. Another of us tried taco fries. All delicious and not nutritious at all. Oh, and the funniest part? A huge picture of Barack Obama hanging up high on the wall right of the menu. This place is way too temptingly close to us and to a bunch of pubs and other late-night attractions. We’ve already gone twice…

Griffith College party

Taylor and I are living in the student residences for a school called Griffith College, even though, oddly enough, we aren’t actually Griffith students (we will attend Dublin Institute of Technology). This didn’t stop us from going to an event organized by the school. All of the international students went as a massive group to a bar down the street, then migrated to a club a little further away. Americans are definitely a small portion of the population around here—the students seem predominantly French, with some Germans thrown in. Here are a couple of photos from the night:

Funny words

Part of the fun for me is learning how people here say things differently. Here, an elevator is a lift. Craic (pronounced “crack”) is not a drug, but rather how people refer to a good time, or someone who is fun to be around. For some reason my favorite so far is how people here say “em” rather than “um.” Don’t know why, but that tickles me.