It’s your birthday!

Happy birthday Dena! We took a train to Dover, (Live Free or fucking Die) New Hampshire, bussed to Portsmouth, then we walked to Maine… That was cool. A New England interlude ensued, including a freezing cold snap, some rain, and another cold snap which put glass-clear coatings on every twig and berry and branch. I (Dena) put on all my new smartwool and omniheat gear and we wandered far and wide.  From a wide-open non-war-making submarine tour to the epic walk looking for a birthday meal, we tromped around town with pink cheeks and bright eyes. The walk to Maine took us across a bridge, an island, and another bridge.  The second showed us this strange sight – the burned-out husk of a nuclear sub set on fire by a guy who just wanted some time off. They put the $400 million repair on his tab and sent him to jail for the rest of his life. The restaurant on the other side is a classic NE joint.  Except they also have the largest salad bar in Maine.  It was big, but not, like, Texas big.  The seafood rocked, the potatoes comforted, and I had hot Indian pudding for the first time.  Cornmeal, molasses, spices, yumyumyum. We also walked along a highway marked no pedestrians (ha! take that!) and scrambled up a steep overpass hill with a broken down fence.  And punted the remains of every rotten snow pile along our route. Upon our return, there was a little snow. Some layering up for warmth. And a little getting paid for my writing.  So many gifts!

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