Well, I'm back. I had five wonderful days down on the farm with my Gram and my dogs. I was on the only on-time flight from LaGuardia to Manch-Vegas on Tuesday night (the drawback was that the plane was pretty wee).
I did take pictures of aforementioned dogs and the beautiful landscape (blanketed in four inches of snow), but it's going to take a while to post them. Stay tuned.
Meanwhile, my roundup of this little vacation, to give you an idea of what I was doing with myself for five non-New York days:
- Neck-deep in family, which was fantastic. Little cousins are getting taller and starting high school, older cousins are having kids. I have a cat and some student loans. But they all listen politely when I regale them with stories of laundry pick up and delivery service.
- Puttering. Gram is way better at this than I am, let's just get that out of the way. She caught one of four errant roosters with a fishing net (they are all to be sent to the "pearly gates" courtesy of my 8-months pregnant cousin and an axe before they are permitted to terrorize children or pluck the poor hens bald). I attempted to reupholster the ceiling of Lucille, our old Volvo, and while I did get the sagging and mysterious gross orange dust under control, I also may have driven a staple into something important (like a wire that mysteriously powers the dome light, dashboard clock, and stereo speakers). Whoops.
- Dogs. The family Border Collies rarely let me leave their sight all weekend, if I was permitted to to be out of physical contact in the first place. Mick (soon to be 10) and Josie (soon to be 11), don't act as dogs of their age and size might. Tuesday night I was pinned by both in my twin-size bed. Unlike my asshole cat, though, they didn't need me to be awake to enjoy my company. Also unlike my cat, though, they really like it when I share toast crusts and bacon with them.
- Good Eatin'. It's what Thanksgiving's all about. Gorging oneself is a proud American tradition. We had more than 50lbs of turkey and a marvelous array of sides. I got to take a little bit of the good eating on the road, as Gram supplied me with a dozen fresh eggs and a jar of grape jelly. Also partook of some kickass Thai food on Saturday.
- Driven into the arms of a dear old friend. Ok, so maybe I drove myself there. Newbury Comics, how I miss you when I'm in New York. Yeah, iTunes is great, but nothing beats combing the used DVD and CD selections at Newbury and finding a gem. This time around, I got Dummy (See it! Milla Jovovich sings klezmer. I shit you not.) for $4.99. That's right, folks. And in NH, that means $4.99.
- Stepping out with some of the HS friends. Also fantastic. Though weird, because we were drinking together (I didn't do that in high school, y'see), and a little bittersweet as I'm about to lose them to Illinois and Guatemala for a long while. We marched around Manch-Vegas in the witch-tit cold on Wednesday and Saturday, looking for a warm corner in a public house. The Shaskeen wasn't so great (though there were fisticuffs that ended in blood being spilled), but Strange Brew Tavern has 48 beers on tap and a popcorn machine. I highly recommend the Smuttynose I.P.A.
All in all, the weekend was a resounding success. I returned via tiny plane yesterday afternoon, was screwed by a cab driver, and nearly roasted in my bed. Good to be back.
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