People Nearby

The people we know in the area are kind hearted. I am continually surprised at how they are able to be open and giving, and not expect anything in return. I suppose they have not had any negative experiences to make them cynical. Or, if they have, they have not let it affect them to the point of changing their style.

Living close to a big city and in a small one, I learned not to be as open and trusting as I could be. I am often amazed at how outgoing and helpful the people are all around us in Maine. Once, I had to call a business on a Sunday afternoon. I got someone on the phone at the owner’s house, which I think was next door to the business. She said she needed to talk to someone else first, who happened to be at her house at the time at her young daughter’s birthday party. I told her that I did not need to bother him there and I could call back. Assuring me it was no problem, she excused herself from the phone and got the person with whom I needed to speak. He then proceeded to tell me I could empty a septic tank, and to leave $5 to pay. We did so the next day, which was a Monday holiday. When we went to leave the money, we found the garage door unlocked, no one around, and a beautiful shiny Harley Davidson in the garage, among other things. I kept thinking what are these people being so nice for? Do they want something? I thought I was a trusting person, but I looked for negativity where it wasn’t just because I was used to it.

Our neighbor, Tanner, is one of those men who know how to make, fix and build anything and everything. Everyone calls him Tanner, even his wife, although that is his last name. He and his family are our next door neighbors, and live at the pond year round. They made sure we felt welcome to knock on their door at any time, as we are basically camping on our property, without a well or electricity at first. Tanner said we could take water anytime we wanted from their spigot. Once, we tried in vain to start a fire after a rainy day. All the wood was wet and we gave up and went kayaking instead. When we returned, we found a wheelbarrow full of dry firewood at our camp, covered by a plastic bag to keep it dry.

Tanner and Julie built their own home at the appropriate 100 foot setback from the water. The house is built on a hill overlooking a cleared lawn towards the pond. Each snowfall, Tanner plows the quarter mile of our shared dirt drive by himself. With two little kids, he has to, or he wouldn’t be able to work, or get out in case of an emergency. Tanner put in our well point. He pounded 18 feet of stainless tubing into the ground by hand using an incredibly heavy forged iron tool that he made himself at the foundry where he works. He did this with his friend and tenant, a very thin man who, with his very old dog, Toke, inhabits a very small cabin on Tanner’s property. Julie, Tanner’s wife, calls the tenant her spending money. Toke the dog ambles over to visit us once or twice, every time we come up.

Some people have a gift for divining love, honesty or the truth. Some people have a gift for divining water. Before Tanner put in our well, he brought over his divining rods to decide where to put it. He made them out of stainless steel rods. They are about 18 inches long and one quarter inch diameter, with a bend to them. In order to divine water, one needs to hold the rods parallel and walk slowly over the area. When the rods cross, then there is water below. Tanner is a great diviner. The rods crossed just behind the shed, a perfect spot for a well. The tenant said he does not have the gift and the rods did not move when he held them. I tried it and was amazed when the rods crossed at different places on the property, including where Tanner was planning to dig the well. I felt like I was playing an Ouija board, where I was not quite sure if I was moving the rods or the rods were moving and I was following. I recall playing for hours with a friend as a child, spelling out the names of people in our past and our present lives. I could never tell if my friend was moving the Ouija piece or if I was, or if it moved by itself. Divining can be like that, I guess. If it’s for love, you never know if you or the other person made the first move. What you do know, is that there is something hidden there, under the ground.

Tanner is always deep in a significant building project. The last time he was building a very large shed for his gigantic stockpile of firewood. Previous to that, he was repairing the log splitter that he had made himself. He had to make that, because he had bought a giant tree rather than buy pre-split wood for his winter fuel supply. The tree trunk was easily 4 feet in circumference and 24 feet long. Tanner had to first cut the trunk with a chainsaw into manageable chunks, and then split each chunk into firewood that would fit his stove. The man never stops moving. If he’s not cutting wood, he’s mowing the lawn. He always has a can of beer in his hand. He says he doesn’t drink water on Sundays.

To be steeped in resourcefulness is a gift. Tanner has two young children and he takes care of them during the day, while Julie is at work. Tanner goes to his job at the foundry in the afternoon. At home, Tanner continues with his work as well as he can, with the kids in tow. Once, we found a very small hat in our shed after Tanner had been doing some electrical work for us. I imagined NJ, his 2 year-old daughter, watching him deal with the fuse box, and memorizing the circuits. I’m sure she and her brother will be fixing snowmobiles by the time they are 6 years old. Tanner’s 4 year-old son, Jake, has a kid sized Jeep, which he drives over from their house to our property. Tanner lets him take NJ in the passenger seat when he comes over. At age 4, Jake is an excellent driver. He uses the gas pedal, brake and steering and can go forward and in reverse. He is a much better driver than many I’ve seen in Boston. Tanner got the jeep at a yard sale for $12 and splurged on the $75 battery. Here in ATV and small vehicle territory, Jake and NJ are well on their way to being an integral part of this culture. With all they are learning from their dad, they will be a part of Maine’s self-sufficient culture as well.