Edgy Mama

Hi boys and grrrls,

It’s me, Edgy, up in New Hampster. Found a coffee shop, which let me recieve my 71 e-mails (half junk) but they won’t let me send a single one (live free or die, indeed!). So, if you’ve e-mailed me, have patience, patience.

Typical of the Hampster, said coffee shop is located in an ancient house, held up by hand-hewn wooden beams (which I covet for the pnav).

Everything up here is old. The house we’re staying in was built in 1890 and has a name: Breidablik. Even the bedrooms have names. It’s wacky.

Some New York doctor of Scandinavian descent built Breidablik, which is huge and dark and creaky and has an awesome front porch–and a ghost. The house was purchased in 1945 by the Weathers family, who still own it and have populated the property with smaller homes for their descendants. It’s all very commune-like and New Englandy.

The lake is gorgeous, but ball-shrinkingly cold. Luckily, I don’t have any. I do have a sleek, seal-like natural wetsuit of my own (otherwise known as Mom blubber), so I’ve been able to swim, albeit not for too long.

I did attempt to wind surf two days ago, which was laughable, particularly for the ski boat of guys who kept passing by to chop up the water and watch my bikini bottoms slip lower as I tried to maintain my balance and pull the damn sail out of the murky water.

The weather can’t decide whether to be unseasonably cold or unseasonably hot. The first night we were here, we built a fire in the huge granite fireplace; last night, we slept sans blankets with all windows open. More NH trivia: this is the granite state, right? I only know that from reading John Irving.

My daughter thinks the folks up here speak a foreign language, because she can’t understand their hard accents. I love the accents, particularly the Maine-sounding one, where folks sound like they’re hawking their vowels through phlegm.

NH is famous, of course, for having no state income or sales tax. Supposedly, this makes it next to impossible to own a home here, because the state has to make up all tax income through property tax. Thus, there aren’t tons of houses. At least on the lake. Very different from the Southern lakes, most of which have shorelines packed with cabins and A-frames.

Also, the roads suck. Clearly, paving is not high on the spending list. I was dumbfounded when the barista only charged me a dollar for coffee, and when I handed her a dollar and a quarter, handed the quarter back. A dollar even. Remarkable.

So,that’s my oblication update–oblication because this isn’t really a vacation, it’s an oblication–we’re here because we’re obliged to take a family vacation with E-spouse’s extended clan.

Make sure to read the post below, which is much more interesting than this one–and one that I’d be loathe to write, but since Ash is in charge, he’s allowed to push the envelope. Can’t wait to read more of the ensuing discussion!

XOXO,

EM