 | The other day I mentioned Geoff'd gotten some new glasses. Here's a picture. It took me 9 shots to get this normal looking face. God bless my digital camera. If I had to use film on this kid... I wouldn't bother taking any pictures anymore. He's too goofy. |
"So, would you like to take a ride today?"
Says Doug, to me, yesterday morning.
With all this thinking of relocating, and it being a beautiful day, he figured let's just get in the truck and drive to the places of interest.
We are looking in northern New Hampshire, by the way. There's no need in continuing some sort of veiled "mystery" of sorts. Up where New Hampshire starts getting skinny, and neighboring Vermont starts getting fat. Where the Connecticut River cuts a swath of beauty through the mountains. Up there.
It's about three hours from here, perhaps only 2.5. We meandered up Rte 25 from Plymouth State College, up to the river and Rte. 10. Through the small towns all the way up to Littleton, NH, which seems to be the big city right there. We briefly cut into Vermont for a minute, but didn't stay long. The driving was fun... and we were about to head home when we took a scenic side route into the town of Sugar Hill.
I wouldn't mind living there.
Alas, we'll never be able to afford it though.
The little town of Sugar Hill is on the edge of the out of control popular ski resort areas, and houses there tend to go for way out of our price range. I saw one house that we could maybe afford, but we'd have to so make a killing on the sale of this place and Doug's salary requests would have to be granted for certain, no negotiation.
And the views up there are "to die for."
These are views from the back side of the Sugar Hill Inn. You're looking East and slightly south to Franconia Notch and Canon Mountain in the first one, you're looking north in the second one.
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| Geoff thoroughly enjoyed his trip out there, he loved the views and wanted to go to see the mountains (you're seein' them now dude!) He was well behaved the entire trip. In the first picture, he seems to be saying "Excellent" in an evil Monty Burns kind of way. In the second, he shows me where he wants to go. We ain't goin' there today... but perhaps soon. We'll see. Geoff wants to move. | |
 | Jessica is not happy with the concept of a move. Jessica did not enjoy the trip. She sulked in the back of the truck and pretended to sleep. When we got out of the truck to walk around, she opted to stay. This is Jessie in the truck, wearing that face, in Franconia Notch. |
Old Man
c. ~30,000 BC - May 2, 2003 AD
Driving home through Franconia Notch gave us opportunity to look up to where the Old Man in the Mountain, the state symbol of NH, was. It fell down a couple weekends ago... victim of age and gravity.
I never could understand the whole Old Man Thing. We went there a few times to gawk. I could kind of make out the face. But the caricatures and renderings that are often done (and incorporated into the streetsigns and logos of just about everything in the state of New Hampshire) look more like a profile than the "profile" itself.
There are people who want to rebuild it. They are calling on the governor's office to get a crew out there and figure out a way to schlep the rocks back up to where they've been held by glue and metal rods for like 80 years, and get the state symbol back where it belongs.
If you go up to the golittleton.com webpage to the guestbook, you've got to read some of these entries. There are some by a woman named Mary that make me believe she's clinically insane. Go there and check it out.
I know he's an icon. He's on the state quarter, and there's no way they're going to recall that and put out some lighthouse coin instead.
But rocks fall. It's expensive to even THINK about rebuilding the thing. Insane. Completely.
Which would be more expensive? Taking all the numbered road signs with the profile down, replacing the license plates, changing the school logos that use the face... or putting the damn rocks back up so they can once again fall?
I say let him lie. Leave him be. He's done gone and left... Godspeed to thee, Old Man.
I told my mom where we are thinking of moving and got a bit of vocal resistance to the concept from her. She doesn't want to drive up there from the Cape in the summer because it would take her through the new Liberty Tunnel and she doesn't like to drive through tunnels.
Uh, drive around. And... you don't HAVE to come visit us. We're allright without it if you're gonna be all grumpy about the drive and shit.
By the way -- we were thinking about Los Angeles. Or Chicago. Wanna fly out and visit us? Didn't think so. So shadddahhhp.
The plus for her is that if she's coming to us from NY, it's actually a shorter drive. All she has to do is stay on I91 in Connecticut instead of heading towards Boston, and she'll be there in less than four hours total. Nothing to sneeze at.
My sister could make the trip in 3 I'm sure, what with the way she drives.
Anyway -- none of this is certain, none of this is written in stone. We could be staying here forever... we could be moving there this summer. Who knows at this point yet. I'm not getting my panties in a proverbial bunch about the concepts of packing and cleaning and finishing the things that we need to fix that we haven't finished in like four years. I'm just going to ride... and see what happens.
I love looking at houses online.
Realtor.com is a wonderful resource.
I love the lingo and the crap-slinging about properties that realtors do.
"Cozy" means your ass isn't gonna fit in the living room, not to mention your couch, your kids, your husband and two dogs.
The word "nestled" is used all the time. "Nestled in the mountains," "Nestled by the river..." "Nestled between some trees and rocks and shit."
Houses that are falling over sideways "Need a little work" but that's okay.
There are pristine views year round, but we won't mention the wastewater treatment plant at the bottom of the hill behind the house, or the fertilizer company that starts production in March and cranks out pure stench for the next seven months. We won't mention that the pristine views are of fully leaved trees and your neighbor's back deck where his 18 year old daughter hangs out smoking outside with all her friends, loudly, most of the year.
It's pristine because like, she's young and all. And so are her friends. So it's not a lie. Pristine views available year round.
Realtors have a way with marketing language that most people have to take with a grain of salt. I love interpreting meaning through their actual words. It's a fun thing to do.
But looking at houses makes me kind of scared. There was a Seinfeld bit from the show a few years back which I can relate to.
He's all afraid his girlfriend and her roommate want to go through with the idea of a threesome, and he starts worrying that he will need to buy nice sheets for the bed and a satin bathrobe, and he'll need new friends. Orgy friends! And he can't maintain that kind of lifestyle and image. So he backs out.
I feel nervous in the same way about looking at houses. I won't need orgy friends, don't start thinking nasty over there, you.
But I think I'd need new furnishings, what with the looks of some of the interiors of these places.
I can't see my ghetto couch and mismatched bureaus in some of these rooms.
I'll need new friends in the form of a nice couch that matches the decor instead of looking like I picked it out of the town dump swap meet corner.
This feeling of utter fear crosses through me when I look at a house. None of my stuff will look good in here. Hell, it doesn't look good in what I've already GOT it in.
Oy.
Anyway -- there's much to think about.
It's mother's day. If you've ever hatched a little twerp, happy mother's day. If you play the role of mom to some kids who are short a biological mom, happy mother's day. Step moms, adoptive aunts, dads in role of mom... here's to you. I don't know what's on our agenda for the day. If it is something lovely, I'll be sure to tell you. I think dishes doin' is on my agenda... even though it's mother's day and I should be off the hook for a little while. But no. Ah well, such is life. TTFN.
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