We’ve been away but we are back. Being away is good: Just when the traffic on Route 2 was approaching the intolerable, there we were on I95 — aka 128 — ’round Boston. Now that really is intolerable, so no more grousing about a 12-car caravan on Route 2 in the River Valley!

Being away has some surprises. You think you’re among the very few Maine residents walking the halls of Brigham & Women’s Shapiro Cardiovascular Center, but you’re not. The night nurse is from Lewiston (mother from Jay) and the nice guy who helps you find the right elevator is from Millinocket.

Another surprise? Who could imagine that a 21st century, beautifully appointed private (all are) patient room in that Center could harbor a poltergeist? But how else to explain the rapidly blinking ceiling lights and violently jerking up and down bed in the room to which my mister was delivered from the recovery room?

Also surprising: there’s a Rhode Island reference librarian from Southwest Harbor who says, “Oh, sure, I know Rumford.” How? Because ‘way back in the 70s, she was part of a food co-op network called The Food Conspiracy. Once a month, co-op buyers traveled by truck to Boston’s Quincy Market and Haymarket to purchase great quantities of veggies, eggs, meat, and cheese. “Back then, Maine food markets had American cheese, period. No lamb, no veal.”

Returning, the trucker/buyers rendezvoused with (mostly) women from all over Maine and sorted the orders, some of them from Rumford. The co-op shut down around 1980 when “…our stores began to carry a wider variety of foods.” Any readers remember The Food Conspiracy?

There is no hint of conspiracy about this year’s Farmers’ Market in Mexico!

We were back from away in time for last Friday’s market; this came with live music — keep an eye out for The Spoons, with Laurie Grassette — and a hot dog stand. It’s been a really good year, said Gail “Grandma’s Kitchen” Cutting. The Farmers’ Market continues on Friday mornings through October 15.

Back to being away: it makes gradual change seem abrupt. Take the temperature; two weeks ago, the heat was stifling. Back from away, we brought in the last of the basil and the tomatoes, fired up the stove, and awaited the first frost.

Being away can dull pain and dim memory. Example: the dishwasher went south on us the day before we did. We forgot all about Jerry Fontaine’s plumbing services till we were back from away.

Example: for an entire week and a half, the shitepoke Dot Dunton introduced me to didn’t cross my mind. (Shitepoke is a nickname for any number of the heron family, especially the Blue heron. More on this fascinating topic another time.)

Time away is time out. Concerns and questions — town charters, substandard housing, library budget woes — are left behind. For a little anyway.

Being away is also humbling. Not one meeting was canceled because we were unavailable.

Being from away is a condition you cannot change. But being away is different. And it is good.

Linda Farr Macgregor is a fee-lance writer; contact her: jmacgregor1@roadrunner.com.

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