“You have not only done a large a mount of research, but have a great amount of insight of human nature! Enjoyed your book immensely.”
These are the words of Mr. Day written on the manuscript of Return to God’s House in 2002. He read all the typescripts in The God’s Cycle. Yesterday R. and I went to the get-together for his 100th birthday celebration. That’s 36,500 days for Mr. Day. Plus an extra 25 days for leap years. He lives at the bottom of our road, having built his house after WWII and marriage to Mrs. Day, ten years his junior. He is the quintessential Maine workaholic. Only they don’t call them that here. They just call them Mainers. They also don’t use “quintessential” with the word Maine. Quintessential is my word in conjunction with things Maine. I did not exactly consult him, but did depend on him for correction on anything at all. The only thing he ever corrected me on was my interpretation of dry-ki. I had thought it meant the leavings of loggers, like those next door. But he said no, like driftwood, it’s wood that’s been under water, under rivers, lakes or streams. Quintessential “Maineiacs” make this mistake.
Every day you see Mr. Day out working. He does a lot of clearing, raking, hauling in the wheelbarrow. He’s got a fishing log about 50-60 years in the making. Once he fell down the river bank into the water, broke his back, crawled up, got in his truck and drove home. Then he got someone to go buy him a back brace and did not see the doctor. This was sometime after he’d made the blurb for me. He was in his early to mid-nineties, I think.
Here he is talking with some Maineiac old broad at the gathering.
He asked me if I was still writing. Answering yes, I had to check myself there. Others were waiting to talk with him.
Mr. Day is the reason why ours is a good neighborhood. You’ve heard of the salt still rendering savor? That’s Mr. Day. Much of his family live on this road.
You can check on that word “Maineiac” here, second paragraph after the cut.