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!