Floating Getaway
On Sundays, the couple grills on the deck, a tradition from when Foy’s father scooped the family onto his lobster boat for picnics on the constellation of islands in Penobscot Bay. They’d toast hamburgers and hotdogs over a driftwood fire, swim, and gather sea glass. For Foy and Louisa, the floating house is their island. Surrounded by a cathedral of spruce trees, it bobs in the cobalt creek.
Interior walls are pickled with a light stain and three coats of Polyurethane. Louisa painted the floor turquoise and the loft ladder area white “so us old people could see it better.”
