a few excerpts from my journal while in maine:
...we left the garden state in a general north-easterly direction, proceeding along highways and turnpikes with ease and great speed...the great thing about traveling in new england is that you get to drive through a new state nearly every hour, which is a good thing except for that one miserable excuse for a state known as massachusetts. we took the 495 loop to (thankfully) avoid boston, but i still got the chills as i could feel the city's horrid evil even from miles away. other than feel like we had veered dangerously close to some kind of netherland, a sort of sheol, it was a good trip. once we hit new hampshire the darkness lifted and i could taste maine...
...so yesterday was our first full day here in maine. we stay at this awesome old home called "the oaks." it is this house on a hill, a home that feels as full of stories as it is full of sags and shelves that lean. take, for example, the billiard room, which i started calling the billiard room because there is a pool table in it and i always thought that 'billiard room' sounded fancy, like the mansion in the game of clue. however, on this vacation we call it the toy room because the host of toys that my mom and dad continue to give to jack are in there. anyway, if you go in there you might want to wear a pair of walking shoes because the wooden floor has so many hills and valleys, you'll be sorry if all you've got on are socks. but its not just the slants that make this place. its the nooks and crannies. its the stories. like the shoe hanging on the wall in the toy room. it has 3 or 4 porcupine needles sticking out of it. apparantly, some annoyed pedestrian found a porcupine in the road and tried to relocate it with a swift kick to the prickly posterior, but ended up with some sharp needles in his shoe...and foot. this house feels full of these stories. it has settled over the years with seaglass and shelves full of old books and sundry collection of knick-knacks. there are old stories in this house. and we are making a few new ones of our own...
...our six-week old is sleeping in a suitcase at night...
...yesterday felt like maine: it was foggy and soggy. it was cold. it was grey. it was met with fire in the hearth and sweatshirts and a good book...
...today began with cinnamon rolls. not a bad way to start off...
ps. i can see the ocean from my window. there's a fishing boat headed in our direction...
greg.
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and my laugh-o-meter is dangerously low since vaycay