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Copy for Maine destination marketing program.
It was a kind of ritual for my family, once school had started again. We gloated, feeling like we were cheating, going back to summer vacation. On the way there, we inevitably ate at our favorite chowder house, saving the little bags of “oyster” crackers for the back seat of the car, much to Mom’s dismay. And I remember straining my eyes, wanting to be the first one to spot the gift shop that sold all sorts of things I coveted, like beaded moccasins, real bow-and-arrow sets, and hunting knives with bone handles sporting a bear’s fierce image. Sometimes we’d go camping, brushing our teeth in the bushes with a jug of water. Other times we’d stay in a little cottage by the beach where I’d add to my burgeoning and pungent shell collection.