The grandsons and I spent last night in Maine … quiet, peaceful Maine. The two teens helped gather my meager belongings, pack them into the van, take the four-and-a-hour trip north, unpack the van, distribute the appropriate boxes to their respective rooms. By 9 p.m., they were ready to sleep — including yours truly whose role was to serve as supervisor — and feed them.

It really wasn’t too bad because I really didn’t have any furniture. The only pieces salvaged from when I left the Pine Tree State nine months ago was my television  and a television stand I confiscated from my New York daughter. The rest consisted of mostly boxes — some baking pans, a few stray dishes, books, important papers, clothes, coats, my guard goose, and, of course, Karen. I had figured I would splurge with a new bed and recliner when I settled in.

Older grandson — the organized one — went through a checklist of things I needed, including a pot to boil water for oatmeal for breakfast. We jetted to the store to pick up some of the necessities, like hand soap, go figure. We picked up a broom and garbage can — which came in handy when he knocked over the coffee grinds while tidying up before we left — but neglected to add measuring cups and utensils to the cart. Instead of oatmeal, we ate out.

Older grandson also checked all the lights and appliances {I may have to get a rear coil on the stove}, including all the plugs {we/he discovered a switch that didn’t apparently turn anything on}. He kept adding to my list of basic needs — dish soap, scrubby or sponge, dishwasher liquid, dishclothes and towels {I may have them in one of the boxes}, shower curtain, bathmat, sheets {I may have them too}, a folding chair to sit on until I get the recliner, etc.

Younger grandson was the entertainment, darting from one rabbit hole to another almost non-stop. He was in seventh heaven when the bottom fell out out of the junk box. He went through it, picking out “treasures” like an old mouse, mouse pad, voice recorder, blank cassettes, and a pencil with two erasers shaped like a gavel. I didn’t have the heart to tell him they were probably from the ’90s and didn’t work, but, hey, they’re out of my junk box.

Younger grandson was also giddy when older grandson hooked up the television and powered it up. His demeanor quickly changed when he realized there was no Internet connection — just a screen with a bunch of apps showing. I was told getting Internet was my top priority. How could he — he meant me — live without it. He’s right about that. As soon as I get back, reliable in-house Internet service is one of my first calls.

We had three square meals — Burger King for lunch, not a recommendation; Lakeshore, overlooking upper Lake Wassookeag; and Our Fambily Restaurant, which amply compensated for our oatmeal utensil disaster.

We were blessed by a rainbow during dinner, which gave me, at least, a sign of divine pleasure at this latest adventure. Older grandson and I sat on a bench at the complex after dinner, just watching the moon peeking between the clouds high above the pine trees as dusk turned to dark.

The conversations we had were … interesting. But the highlight was the interaction among the three of us. The boys would bring up technology and some really strange thoughts. I tended to reminisce about the “old days” and ground their theories on life.

It was a good first night back in Maine …

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Failure is just a resting place. It is an opportunity to begin again more intelligently. — Henry Ford