Habits I’ve Picked Up From New Hampshire

The problem with blogging from New Hampshire is that I've been so busy doing things that the idea of sitting down and writing about them is absurd. I'm so far behind that when something big does happen I don't want to just write about that because I'll be leaving everything else out. I can't write about climbing Mt Monadnock because that won't include the wild blueberries on other mountains or how towns on the coast look exactly like I imagined New England coastal towns to look or the sixty pounds of strawberries we picked and ate or the glassblowing lessons I took or the nights when the windows were open and the lilacs were blooming and the house smelled like heaven or the eighteen basil plants that are determined to fill our freezer with pesto.

And so I've given up trying to fit everything in. If any of the previously mentioned topics are particularly intriguing, I suppose Kim or I would bow to the demands of the readers and elaborate. Instead of trying to fit the summer into a single blog post, just assume we've been enjoying it (swimming, hiking, canoeing, using our new ice cream maker).

Living in New England is most definitely different than living in the midwest. The start with, I actually live in a region with history and some sort of culture, but living anywhere with different terrain and weather will force you to change the way you live. Of course I've picked up new habits to cope with the changes. I consider them all neutral or beneficial while in NH, but I've realized that there's a few that I will need to leave behind the next time I visit the midwest. Here they are:


Habit 1: Crossing the road

When I first learned how to drive my mother taught me the concept that "Pedestrians have the right of way.” Is this a country-wide thing? Is it just the midwest? Just rural areas? Just Fairfield? Just my mother? Well, either way, stop for just a moment to consider what this actually means when you drive. Unless, of course, you have no clue what I’m talking about. Then I think you’re destined to be amused by me making this into a big deal.

Imagine you’re driving and there’s a crosswalk up ahead. It’s one of those no-stop-sign crosswalks in the middle of a block. What do you do if there’s someone waiting to cross? What if there’s someone already crossing the street in it and you have to brake to avoid hitting them? How do you feel?

In Iowa I kept driving in the first instance and was thoroughly peeved by the pedestrian’s inability to look both ways in the second case. I always thought that pedestrian right of way simply meant that hitting the pedestrian was a bad idea. Granted, sometimes at a stop sign I would wave the pedestrian across and feel very polite and gallant about the whole interaction, but never would I stop mid-block to let someone cross.

Here driving like that makes you, as a friend put it, “An illegal jerk.” Here if a pedestrian is standing at the edge of a marked crosswalk (without lights) clearly indicating their intent to cross the road, the driver is legally bound to stop. It's like whenever a pedestrian wants to cross a crosswalk they put up an invisible red light. It’s made me a more aware driver, but a way more entitled pedestrian.

I fear for the honking I’ll get next time I’m in the midwest.

Habit 2: Drinking water out of the bathroom faucet

No comment. Except that it's the same water everyone drinks in the kitchen. And it's delicious.


Habit 3: Giving up on trying to have a mental map when driving

I feel like most of these bad habits are for the amusement of our midwest readers. This is the case because certain aspects of living in New Hampshire contrast so strongly with living in the midwest. This one’s for you, midwest readers.

This is what Peterborough’s downtown looks like according to google maps:

Yes, the roads seem to be trying to follow both the river and the buildings

This is what my hometown's downtown looks like according to google maps:

The official downtown is the green square in the middle

I think that's made my point pretty well...

Luckily Peterborough is small and I rely on memory and a small amount of trial and error to find places (and keep losing the public library for some reason). Unfortunately, everywhere else is similarly lacking in the straight-roads-that-intersect-at-right-angles department.


Habit 4: Expecting summer to be a usable season

I'm not actually sure this is so much of a bad habit as much as it is an expectation that will get me in trouble if I visit Iowa during July. I grew up expecting summer to be hot, and there to be a few week-long stints of heat where the nights were steamy and days were spent in the air conditioning. Summer weather was something to be endured rather than enjoyed.

Summer here had a few days where the nights didn't cool down and the thermometer hit 90, but no more than seven. Most days were followed by cool nights. I lived without air conditioning. I hiked mountains in July.

But fall is already encroaching. The swamp maples are turning and the sun is no longer hot. I'm beginning to think of eating potatoes and soups. Over Labor Day weekend we went canoeing at a lake nearby and I found myself chilled when I attempted to swim. Not that I'm particularly complaining. Fall comes with fresh apple cider and the famed New England foliage.


Habit 5: Expecting to live free or die

Live free or die is the New Hampshire state motto, and unlike other state mottoes, it actually means something. They're (we're?) proud of that motto and the accompanying attitude. The overall political climate is technically conservative libertarian, which essentially means it's full of people with a strong sense of tradition and an even stronger desire to be left alone to do what they like.

And so that's why NH has very loose gun laws, but allows gay marriage.

When I moved to New York state I was very concerned about learning all the new traffic laws. Can I talk on my cell phone? Turn right on red? What about U-turns? And now I'm utterly unconcerned. Of course I can talk on my cell phone while driving. I could text while driving an uninsured car and not wearing my seat belt if I wanted. Do I? Of course not. But I could and that oddly makes a difference. In fact, as far as I can tell the only weird driving law is the one regarding pedestrians.

I find it refreshing to be treated by the government as someone able to make my own decisions. Every time I drive over the Massachusetts state line and see the sign commanding me to "Buckle up" and proclaiming "No texting while driving. It's the law," I feel a little dig at us New Hampshirites, as if we need controlling and reminding that there are laws in Massachusetts.

And related to this...


Habit 6: Paying no sales tax

One weekend my friends and I went down to Connecticut to Connecticon. All of that aside, I made a purchase of what I thought was $18 (3x6=18, right?) and it was rung up at $19 something and my friend Ben and I were both confused and asking if we had misunderstood the price.

It took us a little bit to realize that we had forgotten sales tax.

For everyone's reference, the apparent flip side to this is that the property tax is horrendous here.



And so that's life in New Hampshire. It's apparently full of delicious water, nice summer weather, and an odd assortment of laws. Just to show it's not, here's a four pictures from between the last post and now:

Dariana's first trip to Maine (with Haley, the 14-year-old daughter of the 
family we're staying with) at Nubble Light

Kim, her mom (who was visiting), and a friend near the top of Mt Monadnock

Sparkler shenanigans on the lawn on the 4th of July 

My glasswork. Misshapen flowers, a paperweight and a teeny bubble

Gone East girls go... west? Further east? Where?

Part 1: Answering the question, "Where are you and what are you doing?" 

We'll start by going back to late January.

Kim and I had been having periodic discussions about when to decide that Ithaca wasn't working for us. It was clear that it wasn't, but the question was whether to continue trying to make it work, or to throw in the towel. I think we both knew that it wasn't where we should be and were planning to leave. There was never anything particularly bad about it, but life there felt like getting by instead of the growth and joy that we both wanted from the move. We hadn't settled on what would make us decide to move, but we hoped it would become clear.

This clarity came to us in the form of a library fine--a $94 library fine. We still can't figure out their math. Something like $50 for a book overdue for more than 30 days, the daily fines, and some other mysterious charges. It sounds a bit silly and dramatic to decide to leave over a library fine, but that got us seriously considering it.

Note: the public library system of Tompkin county in New York is not after us. We called them, got it down to $17, and paid it.

Our options were looking like we were going to have to change our blog title (by going back west to Fairfield), but then I got an amazing phone call. It was Ben and DuCiel (who you may remember from our blog post about going to their wedding in October) with the proposal that we could move to New Hampshire with them and another friends of ours from Fairfield. Du's mom owns a company that does magazine distribution, and she apparently was looking to hire someone. So Kim was offered the job, and we were offered Du's old room to stay in. Of course we were hesitant to accept, simply because we both want to avoid being a burden on anyone. After much assurance that we were not going to be trouble and that it was definitely fine, we set our course for farther east. 

We spoke with our landlord, and we agreed that we'd leave at the end of February. So we packed up, Kim left mid-month, then I kept on packing and left on March 1st. Kim had to leave early because she was needed to work. I arrived in New Hampshire at the tail end of a snow storm. I spent my first Saturday sledding, building a snow fort, having a snowball fight, and then playing games by the fire. There was immediately so much more joy than we'd had in Ithaca.

That seems like a nice bow for the end, right? Wrong! That's the bow for the first part.

Part 2: Kim's Job Perks

The Monday after I got to New Hampshire (I arrived on Thursday night), Kim and I went to San Francisco.

I'm sure you're asking why and with what money we traveled all the way across the country? The answer is because part of Kim's job is to travel, and apparently because of the clever use of frequent flier miles, I was invited along. Kim was there for the annual Exceptional Women in Publishing conference. According to her, the women she met there were successful, driven, intelligent women who were completely willing to help out younger women just starting in the industry.

We stayed in an adorable hotel between Union Square and Chinatown. Like many hotels, they had complimentary breakfast. In this case, it involved cloth napkins and a waitress taking our order. Kim and I helped make gift bags on Tuesday morning for the conference. It was a balmy not-wear-a-jacket out, so we walked in the warm sunshine to Union Square to find lunch. We ate Thai food, and then wandered through a large mall just to see what all there was. On Wednesday Kim had the conference, and I had a short jaunt to Chinatown (until I was chased back by sore feet). I did find the supposed best bakery in Chinatown, and we had bubble tea later. The bakery reminded me of being in Beijing, but the bubble tea wasn't as flavorful as I remember.

Our last day, Thursday, was a free day. We took the ferry to Sausalito, and walked around there. I love seeing cities from the water. You get such a good idea of their character. San Francisco has the skyscrapers, but only in a small area and then it's all hills and people-sized buildings. Sausalito was adorable for walking in, but we were so exhausted from jetlag and walking around earlier that we went home early. We ate more delicious Asian food (soup and curry) at a vegan restaurant. I'd never eaten at a strictly vegetarian restaurant with such an extensive menu. It was remarkable to go through pages and pages of options without having to sift through for a few dishes I would order.

On Friday we went home to New Hampshire. We arrived to a light snow shower and friends picking us up. It was good to be back.

The warmth of the holiday cheer

Kim and I live in this red converted church. There are a few quirks to our apartment, such as the fact that our shower likes to get hot or cold at least once per shower. I thought we discovered one of the last quirks we'd learn about ten days ago over dinner.

It was Friday, and I had made something that needed baking in the oven (probably potato wedges tossed with garlic and herb oil--we've mentioned our current obsession with potatoes, yes?) and we were eating at our table in the kitchen. I was nearly finished with my meal when I heard a weird popping noise come from the oven. I'd forgotten to turn it off, so I did that and peeked inside to see what was going on. What was going on was a small flame coming from the heating element.

I believe my reaction was first to say, "Kim? Our oven's on fire..." and then to be in the cupboard looking for the baking soda. I'm not sure if turning off the oven or pouring the baking soda onto it put out the fire, but one or the combination of the two worked. After we finished eating, we opened the oven back up to see if we could figure out what had happened. We hadn't spilled anything that ignited, but instead it seemed like the element had cracked.

A call to our landlords later, we were ready to have a weekend full of stove-top dishes. Of course I did some internet research and learned that some people whose ovens had spontaneously burst into flame couldn't even turn on their stove tops without the oven igniting. Luckily ours wasn't that bad. By Tuesday evening we had a new element put in and made celebratory baked goods. The oven worked so much better after that fix. All in all, I think we ended up gaining for the experience.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the end of our "Things break and we wait and are inconvenienced while the landlord fixes it" adventures. This last Saturday we woke up to a cold apartment. By cold I mean just under sixty degrees. Luckily there was hot water, so we warmed up with showers. Of course we put in a call to the landlord and were happy to hear noises of what we imagined to be fixing coming from the boiler room.

That afternoon Kim and I bundled up and left our cold apartment to go downtown and check out the ice carving competition with the full expectation that we'd return to a cozily warm apartment and have more baked goods to keep celebrating the return of our oven.

Watching people carve ice is something I'd never seen. I don't even remember seeing an ice sculpture before. When we walked onto the commons, there were both finished sculptures and works-in-progress to look at. I think what struck me about the finished ones was how transformed the blocks of ice were. Here was something taller than me made of this clear substance that glinted in the light. Later in the evening, the strings of white lights that garland the trees and twined around the pillars would make the sculptures sparkle in the twilight.

The in-progress ones were rough and chunky compared to their finished counterparts. As I watched, the sculptors used water to fuse two pieces of ice together. It was only then that I thought to look for seams in the finished products. When watching, you had to be careful of where you stood so you wouldn't get the wind blowing ice dust in your face, especially when the artist got out the chain saw.

However, I forgot my camera, so here I invite all the curious to go to google (or your preferred search engine) and type something in like, "Ithaca ice wars 2011," and browse.

We got home cold, and discovered three space heaters on the floor and a message on my cell phone. The two-year-old boiler was broken, but it'd be fixed Monday. Until then, we would have to get by with the space heaters.

Our water was cold, and we huddled by our space heaters in an attempt to warm up our fingers and toes. I made brownies and we put down towels and blankets on the coldest parts of the floor, and our spirits couldn't help but lift. We'd get by. It would be just a few days.

Then Monday came, and the boiler was still not fixed. Tuesday got us word that the part to fix the boiler was supposed to be in Monday, but would definitely be in on Thursday. It's Wednesday now. We'll see what tomorrow brings. I'm hoping for hot water so I don't have to repeat this morning.

This morning I gave in to the feeling of unwashed hair and boiled two pots of water on the stove. I poured those into our kitchen sink, diluted the water with cold and stood on a towel (to keep my feet warm) in front of it. Yesterday Kim managed to gracefully wash her hair in the sink. Her long-sleeved shirt even stayed dry. I, on the other hand, am either uncoordinated, unpracticed, or simply too short. My left hand was terribly awkward and wouldn't follow the right hand's lead. I had to stand on tip-toes to reach, and even then I would lose my balance in my attempts to lean properly over the sink. My arms ended up wet up to my elbows, and I definitely got water in my ears and eyes.

I did end up with clean hair, so I guess it was successful.

For now I'm hoping for a proper shower on Friday morning, and a good laugh later about how loud two of our three space heaters are.

UPDATE 12/15/2011 at 9:06 pm: We have hot water!

Tis the Season...

For Kim and Dariana to update the blog! And after so long, too! I imagine by now most of you have given us up for dead. But behold, like the Savior we will rise up again and--oh, that's me getting my holidays mixed up. Suffice it to say, we've been very very busy...doing things...other than updating...and for that we feel deep deep shame and offer you a holiday-themed blog post in consolation. 

And we offer you pictures! Why, I imagine you'll walk away from this post thinking to yourselves, "My stars! Those girls, such wondrous gifts they give us!" And you'll forget all about the, oh, several odd weeks when you didn't hear anything from us AT ALL.

And so, without further ado, let's have those pictures: 

Getting the branches just so.

Hey, they ARE under the tree. :D

Small (empty) boxes to put under this tree.

Same holiday cheer. Smaller package.

Our living room! With two trees!

Our adorable love seat and picture wall.

And another angle.

And the newly-painted kitchen!

With new table and wall clock!

Aren't the trees just the cutest damn things you've ever seen? It wouldn't take a very strong wind to knock them over, but they speak volumes about the holiday season. It doesn't have to be big or expensive or showy. It just has to have heart. And these little guys pack a lot of heart. 

And the apartment is actually starting to look like, well, an apartment now! I thought about showing "before and after" shots of the decor, but that would frankly be embarrassing. So here you have the "after," and if you'd like to imagine for yourselves the "before," just subtract anything cute, cozy, and houselike and replace it with a proportionate amount of cardboard. Don't forget the large expanses of blank wall!

The job news is much the same as the last time we wrote. Dariana is an expert cookie-baker by now (although she assures me that she was an expert cookie-baker before this job and that now she simply has the opportunity to demonstrate her superior baking abilities). I am still hard on the hunt for a job of my own. The hardest part, believe it or not, has been letting go of the notion that I need to find the perfect job RIGHT NOW. Working at all would be a blessing for my mental health at this point, and I could continue searching for "Mr. Right Job" while working something not quite as wonderful. Sounds perfectly reasonable, right? But you'd be surprised how long it's taken me to accept that. 

Looking at my joblessness another way, I think it's been good for Dariana to have some company while at work. For the past several weeks, I've been coming in with her to Insomnia and setting up my own little job-hunting site in the back of the store--which, yes, involves shamelessly mooching off Insomnia's internet connection. Call it an investment in the future. Anyway, I've come to understand just how quiet it can be in that store before about 6:00, when business finally begins to pick up. I believe that before I became a regular installation, Dariana's workday went something like this:

12:00 -- Let self into store.

12:00-1:00 -- Bake cookies. Check inventory. Eat lunch.

1:00 -- Open store.

1:00-2:00 -- Stare out window at college students. Shake head at what some of them are wearing. That dress could use a few more inches on the bottom, honey.

2:00-3:00 -- Read library book while watching for non-existent customers.

3:00 -- Have a customer! 

3:00-3:15 Sit in wonderment about how new and exciting it is to have a customer in the store.

3:15-4:00 -- Look at cooking blogs online. Email Kim about recipes to make when finally home. 

4:00 -- Receive call from a mother trying to order cookies for her son at college. Apparently she finds the company website "confusing."

4:00-5:00 -- Read book to take mind off the sad plight of the computer illiterate.

5:00 -- Have a customer!

5:00-5:30 -- Think about running away to the wilds of New Zealand.

5:30-6:30 -- Bake cookies for evening. 

6:30 -- Have TWO customers! At the same time! Woo!

6:30-7:00 -- Cash out register.

7:00 -- Go home.

But now, thanks to the presence of yours truly, her day looks more like this:

11:45 -- Attempt to shove Kim out the door before she makes me late.

12:05 -- Slide into work on two wheels due to aforementioned Kim making me late.

12:05-1:00 -- Bake cookies. Check inventory. Eat lunch. Wonder if Kim went to the store like she said she would and if she remembered to get lemons.

1:00 -- Open store. Let Kim in.

1:00-2:00 -- Sit with Kim while she eats lunch. Point and laugh uproariously at passing college students. Discuss the decline of common sense , the incline of so-called "fashion sense," and how they relate. 

2:00-3:00 -- Allow Kim to work for a bit on her job-hunting. Periodically come back to tell her about fussy mothers and computer illiterate customers. More hearty laughing. 

3:00 -- Have a customer! 

3:00-3:15 -- Go in back to tell Kim about it. Expound on the virtues of good customers. 

3:15-4:00 -- Look at cooking blogs online. Run in back to tell Kim about the recipe you just found for lemon cake. If only she had remembered the lemons.

4:00 -- Get scared out of wits by Kim sneaking up on you from behind.

4:00-5:00 -- Chase Kim around the work table in back, then read book while watching entrance to the back with one eye. 

5:00 -- Have a customer!

5:00-5:30 -- Complain to Kim about the innumerable un-virtues of bad customers. Discuss pros, cons, and logistics of running away to New Zealand.

5:30-6:30 -- Bake cookies for evening. Give Kim the broken/ugly ones to stop her drooling.

6:30 -- Have TWO customers! At the same time! Woo!

6:30-7:00 -- Cash out register while still watching back room with one eye. Fool me twice...

7:00-7:10 -- Track down Kim, who slipped out and is walking around and talking on the phone to her mother. Yes, in the rain. And she has the car keys.

7:10 -- Go home.

As you can doubtless see, dear readers, my mere presence makes her day feel longer, more full, and more spontaneous! What more could anyone ask for?

I wonder if anyone would be willing to pay for those services. Surely there's a market for what I do every day. Personal Assistant, perhaps?

Anyway, how was everyone's holiday? I know, I know; tis the season for asking, "Which one?" I mean the one where we're all supposed to think grateful thoughts before stuffing ourselves half to death. Here's hoping you did both, though not necessarily in that order. As for Dariana and me, we had a lovely holiday weekend with my parents. They drove up on Thanksgiving day carrying not a small share of the luxuries you see in the pictures. They also came bearing Christmas presents in case I couldn't come home for that one. The two of them were regular wisemen journeying from afar to bear gifts, though without the camels and the King. (And yes, that's me mixing holidays yet again. Little do you know that there will be a quiz later to see which of you can match the holidays with their correct paraphernalia.) 

And such a feast we had! It was a day late, but so worth the wait. Nut loaf, gravy, mashed potatoes and kale, green vegetable casserole, rolls, and cranberry sauce. We didn't make any desserts because we got a late start, but don't go feeling sorry for us. Our Thursday was spent with the Wysongs, the friends who kept us for a few weeks way back in August, and Laura (the fabulous and prolific cook that she is) sent us home with so many little tasties that we didn't even miss our usual desserts. It was indeed a feast to make kings of old roll around in their graves with jealousy. 

If you'd like the recipes to any of those dishes, you just send us an email. We think everyone should get to enjoy the gastronomical pleasures of our Thanksgiving dinner. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

My parents left the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I was sad to see them go, as I always am. Those are the two conflicting dreams of my heart: to travel the world, and to have my family close by. But I'm happy to report that circumstances have come together so that I CAN go home for Christmas! That holiday is one of the only times I get to see members of my extended family, so I was disappointed at the prospect of not being able to go. I will add, however, that times of need generate friends indeed. Two very good friends of ours asked what our holiday plans were, and when they heard that I may not be able to go home, they immediately extended the invitation to spend Christmas with them. It warmed my heart and inspired me to acts of kindness of my own, as I hope it does for you. Tis the season!

I need to wrap this one up so I can help Dariana with dinner (Dijon Green Beans and Garlic Scallion Mashed Potatoes--we do love our potatoes in this household). We hope you're all doing well, keeping warm, enjoying your snow (if you have it) or eagerly anticipating it (if you don't), and just generally enjoying the season.

Oh, and as a parting farewell, here's that quiz I mentioned earlier. (You thought I was kidding?) Match the holidays with the miscellaneous details that best describe them by writing the letter in the space provided. 10 points each.

[  ] Easter                          A. turkeys, pilgrims, gratitude, and more food than should be ever 

                                             be eaten in one sitting

[  ] Thanksgiving                 B. nativity scenes, evergreens, multicolored lights, and enough 

                                             wrapping paper to cover Planet Earth--twice

[  ] Christmas                     C. kids with colored food dye, fake grass, baskets, a resurrection, 

                                             and, apparently, bunnies that lay eggs

Take your time.

Cookies and a bit of reality

This blog seems to have become "Kim and Dar's adventures as seen by Dar." Perhaps this is because I have nice chunks of time at work to write up blog posts. I apologize for depriving everyone of Kim's writing.

I had written up a few stories of drunk people from working Saturday night, but have since scrapped that idea. Do you really want to read a post about a guy so drunk I was worried about him passing out in the store and a man dressed (poorly) as Princess Peach who creepily tried to get me to give him a snickerdoodle cookie for a penny? If so, just elaborate in your mind for a while. Those were the only two stories; most people were jovial and easy to joke with.

I've decided that we need to quit hiding behind work-related stories and tales of weddings. Let's come clean:

Kim doesn't have a job yet; my job involves more sitting and waiting for something to happen than I'd like; I don't have a car; we have no furniture except two floor lamps; we sleep on borrowed camping maps; our kitchen only has 3 plates, 3 bowls, silverware for two, mugs for two, glasses for two, a crockpot, 3 pots, 2 pans, a few baking dishes, measuring cups, a wooden spoon, a spatula, an electric wok that doesn't have its power supply, knives, and a can opener; our entire kitchen has almost no counter space and minimal storage; and our shower makes me sing Katy Perry (you're hot then you're cold).

Our kitchen before we painted it red. After pictures will come when I find my camera.

I don't mention this to complain.

I want to say that we're doing fine despite all of this. Yes, occasionally one of us wants something that requires a blender, for example, but we usually come up with something equally delicious and blender-free.

Our latest obsession are cookies. You'd think after working all day in a store that makes cookies that I'd want anything except cookies, but it's actually had a very different effect. After working as a cookie minion all day, I seem to want to prove my cookie-making independence. This seems to have extended to include old recipes.

I haven't made the old standby of peanut butter chocolate chip in a few months. The current favorite is double chocolate with various goodies. This started because Kim likes the taste of the s'mores cookies from work (think chocolate cookies with marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate chunks, and then realize how many times a day I repeat that phrase), and decided that I could make a better one. Buoyed by her faith in me, I decided to try it.

The first attempt failed because I didn't realize that marshmallows turn into pockets of extra-fudgy cookie unless frozen before added to the dough. As a not-a-marshmallow-fan, I made myself ones with walnuts and dried cranberries that first time. We both fell in love with the cookie base and have since added dried cherries (not a good idea), chopped Andes Mints (delicious), and a peanut butter swirl with a few peanut butter chips (also delicious).

On a side note: the local grocery store has a bulk candy section, so we can get small amounts of just about anything to add to cookies. The list of delicious things to put in said cookies will probably grow.

Our most recent cookie adventure is the one that inspired me to feel empowered by how well we're getting by despite most of our possessions being 15 hours away by car. We made pumpkin pie spiced sugar cookies with cream cheese frosting to celebrate Halloween. Since they were sugar cookies, of course they had to be shaped, so we had ghosts, witch's hats, cats, and pumpkins. To make this clear: we made them without a rolling pin, a mixing bowl, measuring spoons, cookie cutters or much counter space. We just use an empty jar, a casserole dish, eating spoons and estimation, paper printouts and knives, and the wooden living room floor (to decorate).

They were delicious, and adorable. My personal favorite is the hat that Kim decorated to look like the Hogwarts Sorting Hat. I haven't eaten it yet in hopes of finding my camera to take a picture.

In final news, I've decided to do NaNoWriMo this month. For those unfamiliar with that, it involves writing a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. The idea is to focus on just writing and not worrying so much about whether it's good. We'll see how this goes...

A fall wedding in New England

In hopes of inspiring reader-forgiveness, Kim and I would like to offer pictures to accompany this story of our first friend-wedding and our first time in New Hampshire. We carried the camera around and periodically would say, "We need to take a picture of this for the blog..." So here goes.

We'd been hoping to make this trip since Ben and DuCiel announced that they were getting married in New Hampshire and we realized that we were planning to move within a day's drive of there. Everything seemed to work out; I got the time off of work, and my godparents live very close to the wedding and happen to have been invited to attend. So we had a place to stay, complete with people I was genuinely excited to see.

We drove up on Wednesday. The drive took us mostly on winding two-lane highways through the trees. Even though it's harder to navigate, I found myself thankful to be driving those roads and not the straight freeways of midwest driving. Admittedly, the night driving on said winding and hilly roads was a bit more harrowing, but I kindly gave Kim the chance to do that. (Note: I did pay for that, as she declined all my offers to let her drive when it was dark for the remainder of the trip.) We arrived safely, had soup, and went to bed.

Thursday--wedding day--began with promises of blue skies and a crisp wind. We donned sweaters and packed jackets and drove to the Cathedral of the Pines. Go to google and look it up. I can say, "It's an outdoor cathedral. It has benches and a beautiful view," but that doesn't describe it. When we got there, Kim and I got out of the car and walked towards a mingling group, mostly of men in suits. Then I saw him in profile: the groom looking dashing in a top hat and tails, leaning on a cane that I later found out belonged to his grandfather. As I happily hurried closer, I picked out a few more familiar faces. So began hugs and introductions, but mostly a wonderful feeling brought on by being part of a group bent on having a joyous day.

The ceremony was beautiful, heartfelt, etc. Having not been to a wedding since I was little, I don't have much comparison. Of course the bride was beautiful, especially the first glimpse of her, veiled and in a long dress on her father's arm. Both the wedding, and later the reception, just suited the bride and groom. Of course they'd planned it, but it seemed to be deeper than that. It was as if someone had combined their personalities and manifested it as an afternoon. At the reception, we drank tea; ate maple candies; laughed at our ineptitude at contra dancing; smiled when we got the dance right; ate delicious sandwiches, eggrolls, sushi, dumplings and cake; and mingled and talked and met new people. That evening, out of our finery, we hung out at DuCiel's house and were giving a tour of Ben and DuCiel's apartment that they'll move into when returning from their honeymoon. I had missed that group of friends, and was saddened that almost everyone was leaving town the next day.

On Friday, we went on a short outing with my godparents. They took us to Pitcher Mountain. It's a very short hike from the parking lot (300 ft elevation gain, according to the internet), but the summit offers a 360 degree view and promises of wild blueberries if we'd arrived at the right time of year. The walk up was easier than the walk up East Hill in Ithaca (which, according to the internet is a 400 ft elevation gain, but I only walked the entire thing once, so that's besides the point). Perhaps this is because of the trees, or the fact that it's not up a man-made flat surface, or perhaps just that hikes are for the process as well as the summit. On the top we sat on a chunk of granite and basked in the sun and the view.

Of course it's prettier is person

On the way back, we were taken past Gregg Lake. The trees had just begun to turn next to the shore. No one else was there. It was still and I could have stayed and read a book and watched the Canadian geese for far longer than I did. It was time to go home.

Note: geese and fall leaves are out of frame

On Saturday--our last day--we decided to see some of the 22 miles of coastline New Hampshire has and go to Portsmouth. One of my coworkers is from New Hampshire and she highly recommended Portsmouth, so we thought we'd give it a look.

Portsmouth is a touristy town on a harbor. We walked around the downtown, wandered into a few stores, walked some more, found a park by the water, and began our quest for a bakery. On the drive from Ithaca, we'd seen a sign for an Italian Pastry shop. We didn't have time to stop, but we had been talking about bakeries a lot since then. We did find two bakeries downtown, but none of their items really sparked our interest. Saddened and resigned to a sweetsless afternoon, we began to walk back to the car.

Of course, I decided that we were going to go a different route back to the car. As we were passing a side street, Kim spotted a bakery. We went in, and I was immediately charmed by the pale green walls and stained glass windows, but mostly by the display of delicious (and reasonably-priced) tarts. We got a slice of frangipane, which is apparently an almond and apricot tart. The slice was generous and delicious.

Feeling a bit rotund, we made our way back to the car and started to drive to the coast. We had borrowed a GPS for a day and named her Miss Peabody, since she has a bit of a British accent and periodically would chide me with a resigned, "Recalculating" when I ignored or misfollowed her directions. With her help, we found the ocean. We parked and clambered over rocks to reach the sand. The surf was gentle and the day warm, so we took off our shoes and socks and wandered down the beach.

The drive home on Sunday finally gave us fall colors. Vermont was so beautiful that Kim and I eventually gave up exclaiming over it. We stopped in a town called Bennington because the traffic line was long and while waiting we spotted a painted moose and a bakery called Crazy Russian Girls Bakery--and couldn't resist the pair.

The moose is named Vincent

Our spoils from the bakery: a pumpkin and cream cheese whoopi pie

As we came through New York, we noticed that it's tamer here; the roads are flatter, the mountains reduced to hills, the lakes replaced by waterfalls and gorges, and the trees broken up by farmland. The illusion of untouched nature (surrounding the road, of course) had been left behind. As if sensing my loyalty wavering east, Ithaca leaves began to turn in earnest over the next few days as if to remind me that I'm not through with this adventure.

Today's view from the closest branch of my bank

An ornery doorknob, lots of rain and cookies, and red paint

Let's start with the life updates. Kim had two interviews. One with the press for a job she really wanted, but they haven't gotten back to her at all, despite her, "Hey, I'm totally willing to put off looking into other jobs for this one, but if you're definitely not interested in me, let me know please." She's been upset about that, but it's back to cover letters for her. She had no extra oomph for writing anything left, so asked me to blog this week.

My job has definitely gotten more interesting since I took over inventory and ordering. Some bits are not too much fun (like when I had to call 20+ people about not getting their delivery orders the previous night because our delivery guy quit and left midway through his shift), but it's mostly making things orderly and keeping track of what we have. I also figure out that I've made at least 2500 cookies so far, and that's a conservative estimate.

I've been taking the bus to work. I get on about a minute's walk away, and then ride for about 20-25 minutes. As long as there isn't someone telling way too many details of his life way too loudly (no, sir, I don't want to hear about your drunken driving escapades, or that time you nearly died missing the water while cliff diving), it's rather relaxing to just sit and look out the window. I get let off 4 blocks down the hill from work. Let me paint a picture of this hill I walk up. It's not a nice gradual rolling hill. It's a "trucks should not go down me I'm so steep" hill for two blocks, then a "aren't I nice in comparison?" but still steep for the other two. I never thought I'd get so tired walking two blocks. On the upside, I understand why so many people here have awesome leg muscles.

We finally have internet at our apartment! We got it hooked up on Thursday. It's still a novelty to go, "Hmm... We have a quart of peaches. Let's make cobbler! We can look at recipes online!"

In other apartment news, we're nearly finished painting our kitchen red. Unfortunately, I can't include pictures because my camera battery is dead and I can't find where I packed my recharger. There's wood paneling on the bottom half of the wall, and the top half was a yucky blue color. We were a little wary of it being too dark, but the red looks wonderful. We're so excited to do the last coat and take the blue tape off the trim and green drop cloth off the floor. It actually feels like somewhere we want to cook/eat in.

I believe that's it on life updates.

We had two... adventures, if you will. The first was getting 5"+ of rain in a day. I went to the work and the usually-subdued creek/waterfall across the road was roaring. There was flash flood warnings on the radio all day. When Kim picked me up from work, we went to B&N for me to check my email and then we scooted across the street to Wegmans (I just googled that. Shouldn't that have an apostrophe? Doesn't that make more sense?) for groceries. That area is probably about far down as you get, and you could tell. Whole lanes on the road were flooded. Luckily it was built with the middle higher than the sides so the middle two lanes were still passable. As soon as we started up the hill, though, there were no road-related problems.

The other "adventure," involves our lovely bathroom. I was in the kitchen or something and I hear a pitious "Daar?" from the bathroom. I didn't know what was going on, but I suspected there was a large and perhaps hairy spider. I go over and find that the doorknob has somehow stopped working. It was not locked and would not turn. Kim, being necessarily resourceful, began taking the doorknob off with a pair of tweezers because of course the screwdriver is not kept in the bathroom. Who keeps screwdrivers in the bathroom? She managed to get it off, we released her, and then I put the doorknob back on. This time we actually tightened it so hopefully it won't happen again. We do, however, now keep our screwdriver in the bathroom.

I'll end with a list of the riches we acquired from the farmer's markets this week: mixed green/yellow/purple beans, sweet corn, onions, peaches, bell peppers, basswood honey, tomatoes, kale, chard, arugula, garlic, eggplant, and English muffins. Our refrigerator is beautifully full.

Dariana