Taylor and I returned recently from Maine. (Donnie stayed behind to drive down to Connecticut for business.)

It was the first time that I had been back to my Husband’s home state in 2 years and it was my 5th visit in the 6 years he and I have been a couple.

My first visit in, 2004 (with Taylor in tow - she has always accompanied me or later us, on our sojourns to Maine) was when Donnie and I were newly in love and doing the long distance thing. The official goal of this particular trip was to “Meet the Parents” as well as the “Protective Friends of the Inner Circle.” The trial by fire went well - I now address Donnie’s parents with the familiar Mum and Dad and one of the inner circle of friends was actually my Matron of Honor at our wedding. But, a side benefit of that trip was that I fell in love with this quiet, throw-back, nature-infused part of the world that was very unlike anything I had ever known.

Subsequent events brought us back to Maine over the ensuing years, including one rainy weekend in October of 2005 for Donnie’s parent’s 40th Wedding Anniversary and the wedding of our good friends, Tim and Britney. (Hereafter and forever known as “The Weekend I Didn’t Get Engaged” - but that is another blog post of its own.)

Our last visit in late summer 2008 was for his 20th High School reunion, which took place in a giant field...complete with strains of 80’s rock coming from a cover band on a wooden stage that overlooked dozens of campers and tents.

Despite our almost yearly trips back to central Maine, Donnie has spoken wistfully and fondly of the Piscataquis Valley Fair and his desire to go home for it. The Fair is an annual event that has been (in part) run by his parents for many years and has been a big part of his and his sisters’ halcyon childhood memories. However, the timing of the fair in late August was always inconvenient as Taylor was always in her first few days of school by then.

But this year, I finally capitulated and booked a week-long trip for Donnie to go and be a part of the Fair preparations with his parents and also got Taylor and myself up there for a long weekend.

The experience didn’t disappoint. Our vacation was jam-packed with activities. And of course, the Piscataquis Valley Fair was our Copernican event.

Prior to leaving I made joking remarks about the skillet tossing contest to Donnie and his friends and family. Thusly, I found myself signed up on Saturday for the official Skillet Tossing Contest. I didn’t even warm my arm up and left my chances to the skillet tossing Gods(esses).

The Skillet Tossing contest is divided into groups, according to age. I found myself in the second heat along with my two sisters-in-law and my good friend, Lori (afore-mentioned Matron of Honor.) I was ever-so-grateful that I was not alone and prayed quietly that I would not shame my Maine family.

I quickly was ‘learned’ that a Skillet Tosser is not limited in her throwing technique, (overhand versus underhand) but must she (yes, one must be a she - this was a completely female competition - with a touch of misogyny) not touch the line. I choked a bit on my first throw as the MC / Announcer / Barker was heckling me a bit about having married into “all of those Merrills.” But, on my second throw, I tossed my skillet 35 feet. I felt I had thrown respectably and knew that some other women had thrown a shorter distance and some much farther...but was not prepared for what was to come.

Apparently, there is a skillet throwing dynasty in central Maine...and these women are uber-competitive. 2 women in my age group and one older shamed me and all the rest. The longest throw was over 80 feet...a distance I would consider driving.

After getting spanked in the Skillet tossing contest, (well, actually my Mother-in-Law placed 3rd in her group), we all wandered off to take in the rest of the fair.

There were rides (not that I rode them), livestock displays as well as horse and tractor pulls. I was sorry to miss the Frog Jumping Contest and the Pig Scramble. Taylor happily joined Allie and their contemporaries for a few blissful, unsupervised hours at the Fair. The rode the rides, and walked the traditional teenage loop around the valley which was undoubtedly steeped in hormones.

Later that evening, we celebrated Ronnie’s 40th Birthday Party (Donnie’s best friend from waaaaay back and the husband of my friend Lori.)

On Sunday, a group of us went boating and tubing on Sebec Lake. As Taylor had spent some quality time tubing on Sebec during her Epic Summer Trip in July, she had been looking forward to getting her parents on the tube...and watching while we were tossed about like rag dolls and drowned like rats. We ended the day at the lakeside camp of a friend of a friend for tidbits and drinks. The view and the camaraderie made me question my intended choice for my housing dollars....should we forget getting a house in Boca and instead just invest in a camp on the lake in Maine?

Monday we spent with Donnie’s wonderful parents. Taylor got an invitation to go back out on the lake that day and I pretty quickly acquiesced. I knew that Big Don (As he is known in these parts and also as Donnie’s Father) wanted to drive us around and show us some land and figured that Tay would be sad and surly if she came with us knowing that she was missing out on the comparatively fabulous time on Sebec.

After a scrumptious breakfast served by Deanne, Big Don sat shotgun in our rented mid-sized vehicle and directed us to a spot about 15 minutes North East of Milo. Big Don had set his sights on a good-sized plot of land and was considering purchasing it.

Unreachable by any vehicle save snowmobiles or four-wheelers, we walked the path alongside the untouched piece of Maine land that he was yearning for. I was struck by the beauty and wildness of undeveloped land. During our hike, Big Don showed us where he would plan on building a road, which trees he would sacrifice to the lumber industry, where he imagined a bridge crossing the creek and where he thought a good spot for a camp might be.

After our adventure, the Merrill family (Donnie’s parents, Donnie and I, Taylor, sister Dina, sister Darcy and her two children Jake and Hillary) convened at Don and Deanne’s for a farewell feast of lobster (natch - we were in Maine) and steak.

The next day, after tearful goodbyes, we were on our way home...back to South Florida and the crazy, faced-paced tempo of the life that we know.

I love Maine...I love the wildness of the terrain, I love my husband’s family and friends, I love the architecture of the homes and buildings, I love that this area doesn’t just give lip service about days gone by...but actually lives by a credo of a better time.