Molasses Pond

Molasses Pond, 5 AM, Monday morning.
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We were gonna come home Sunday night. But on the way to Molasses Pond, during lunch in Belfast, Maine, with the sea smells a waftiní and Diane enjoying a ridiculously-sized portion of steamed in garlic and tarragon mussels, she looked at me and said, ìLetís go home Monday morning. Early, before the traffic.î

Anyone want to go to the airport with us tomorrow to pick up Matthew? He arrives at 5:45 PM.