(The above picture was not taken with black and white film. New England really looks like this.)The old lady and I just got back from New England, and I feel I owe the entire region an apology. In the past, I'd refer to New Englanders as grumpy. Or worse. I was convinced that an unfortunate stew of adverse weather conditions, lingering Puritan ideologies, and a lack of good Mexican food produced bad attitudes.
During our visit we didn't see anything even resembling the sun for ten days. At one point, it was raining, snowing, and ice was falling from the sky. It was as if some monster-god was fishing around in a bucket of Hate, then hurling its contents by the fistful toward the helpless earth below.
During this time I wore a hat indoors and took two showers a day just to warm up. I went outside exactly one time, and that was to snap the above picture of a neighbor's house because I was convinced this was a bad dream and I wanted proof. Grumpy.
Yet the New Englanders marched toward their appalling fates with glee. They stuffed plastic bags into their boots, grabbed shovels, and went to work--mid storm--before the falling temps turned their driveways into luge runs.
My four-year-old niece woke up early (snowing. Raining. Hailing) every morning, ventured outside in the dark in an oversized snowsuit, then reappeared several hours later soaking wet, a giant grin stretched across her chapped, blue lips.
Respect.
Now we're back and north swells are stacking up for what looks like weeks of fun. Happy New Year!
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