Surprise

It looks like after about 3 years of silence, C.S. and I are on speaking terms again. There was a funny incident a while back where NBC broadcast a map that completely obliterated the state of New Hampshire, then issued a nice apology. We got into an e-mail conversation about that, and then about baseball, and then books, and now we check in occasionally. It's very low key. And it's nice.

Testing My Resolve

Funny how I come to these little crossroads now and again. It's like the Universe is double-checking me, making sure I'm still committed to a particular decision (before opening the path and speeding me on my way, I hope!).

As recently as a year ago, I was pretty sure I would go back to New Hampshire someday. I live in urban Florida by necessity and by accident, not by choice. Although I grew up spending lots of time at the beach, my appreciation for Florida had never expanded to include the inland landscape, and certainly not the sprawling strip malls and gated communities that line the roads where I live now.

Last year at this time, I was still teetering on the knife edge of staying or going, if not in the immediate future, then someday. It kept me from fully committing to putting down roots here. And one of its greatest manifestations was a recurring restlessness every September, when I knew the leaves were starting to change up north. I'd be thinking about the scent of wood smoke and apples, the crunch of frosty grass underfoot, the chill of a misty morning sparked with the blaze of red and yellow leaves, and the slightly musty warmth of wool sweaters.

About a year ago, I realized that beyond those sensory pleasures, what I really missed about New Hampshire was the small town feeling of belonging. When I lived there, I liked crossing the common and going into a downtown shop where I probably knew the name of the person behind the counter, and they probably knew my name, too. I liked knowing the history of the place, with that history spanning a couple hundred years. I liked seeing the landscape manifest itself in its own unique geographic and geological way. Compared with what I knew of Florida, land of chain stores, template landscaping, and Stepford-esque "town centers," the layers of community and place that developed over time in New Hampshire were indescribably rich.

I started realizing this when I started spending more time in what will soon (touch wood!) be my new home town, a place with a complex history and a small town character that expresses itself in a genuine Main Street downtown. I felt at home there immediately, and I realized it wasn't just the change of seasons that seemed to draw me northward. Slowly my perspective shifted to reveal that the sense of being integrated into a particular place could be found here as well, if I would just step outside the urban area and open my eyes.

My shift in perspective was enhanced by meeting a man who introduced me to the beautiful and original Central Florida landscape that expresses itself in scrub and hammock, spring and swamp, lake and river. Real Florida is still full of wide vistas, clear waters, secret places, and the wild plants and animals who belong here, who are only too willing to show me, by example, how to thrive.

Given my newfound contentment, it's not surprising that the Universe saw fit to test me: Two days ago I received the current issue of Yankee magazine, featuring an article called "Fall Comes to the Lake Country" -- complete with stunning photographs of some of my favorite New Hampshire places in all their fall glory, places that are just 15 minutes from where I used to live.

Although they are as beautiful as I remember, I wasn't tempted in the least. Not even a smidgeon of the old restlessness returned in response to those familiar landscapes. They are still lovely to look at and sweet to remember, but that's all.

If that was a test of my resolve to stay, I passed. And I won't be renewing my Yankee subscription again, either. There's really no need.

Where I'd Rather Be

It's all sunshine and palm trees here, with "cooler fall temperatures" in the high 80's, which probably makes anyone north of the Mason-Dixon line jealous right now. This weekend it is predicted to get chilly. That would be in the low 70's during the day and the 50's at night.

"Chilly" is a relative term.

With my thin Florida blood, I'm donning sweaters and turtlenecks as soon as the thermometer dips below 70. I love those kinds of clothes and never miss a chance to wear them.

Meanwhile, this photo shows where I'd rather be. This is a shot from the webcam at Plymouth State College in Plymouth, New Hampshire. I lived near Plymouth for two years, ten years ago, and fell in love with the climate. Even the snow.

Don't we always want what we don't have?

I got C.S. hooked on watching the seasons change via this webcam. We watch for the first fall color, the first snowfall, and the first spring day that you can't see the sidewalks anymore because the trees have leafed out at last. We sometimes see the students having a prayer meeting on Sunday mornings under the trees, standing in a circle and holding hands. We often see games of catch or football. Occasionally a snowman appears. It's a great window.

Now C.S. and I are relishing the last of the fall color. It sure beats the heck out of palm trees.

I Hope I'm Not the Last Person to Discover This

Cage-free eggs from the Co-op come in technicolor! The farm that supplies them has a mixed flock of about 35 Rhode Island Reds, Arucanas, Buff Orpingtons and Barred Rocks. Aren't they just lovely? They taste wonderful, too.

I never really thought much about chickens before. My dream of a place in New Hampshire includes a comfortable farmhouse, a rustic barn, an old stone wall, a pond, a dog or two, a passel of cats, and maybe a few retired racehorses for good measure. Ducks were always an option. Now I think I can see chickens in that picture.

Boy, I hope C.S. knows what he's in for.

Did You Hear?

A mishmash of interesting things in the news lately makes me want to share them, in case the things that come to my attention are not necessarily things that other people know about. I'm never sure if I'm out of touch, or just in touch with a different reality.

Did you hear about Rebound Designs, which sells purses made from old books, and wallets made from old paperbacks? I have mixed feelings about this, but the proprietor seems sensitive to the fact that she's destroying books. I just hope she's checking the used book prices before she starts cutting! Otherwise that could be one expensive purse.

This reminds me of the time I helped out at a church basement sale in the tiny town of Plymouth, New Hampshire. We had a box of FREE books left over at the end of the sale, and the woman in charge directed me to throw them into the dumpster. Even though the word "valueless" is pretty thoroughly defined by the phrase "Yankee yard sale freebie leftover," I just couldn't do it. It made me feel like a Nazi.

Did you hear that The Elements of Style is turning 50 this week? I'm one of those people who calls it "Strunk and White" and uses it regularly. It's really all you need to know to write well. Not only is it full of splendid advice, it's delightful to read and its own best example. I'll stack Strunk and White's "Omit needless words" up against Thoreau's "Simplify, simplify, simplify" any day. (Seriously. Did he really need to say it three times?)

Did you hear NPR's unscientific picks of the most "forgotten" Pulitzer prize for fiction winners? There were some spirited defenses of some of their picks, and now my interest is piqued. As a self-identified book snob, I have avoided adopting the Pulitzer fiction list because it is "too popular." But now I'm thinking: it might be really interesting to read the more obscure ones. Maybe I could start with the ones I've never heard of before.

Yeah, like I need any more books on my TBR list!

Wintery Fix

It doesn't snow here, although it gets what we call cold. For us lightweights, that's anything below 70 degrees. Right now, for example, it's 42 (feels like 34) and sunny for me, and 48 (feels like 43) and fair for C.S.

When we want a cold weather fix, we head to the webcam at Plymouth State University in Plymouth, New Hampshire. I used to live in Plymouth, and we went there on vacation two summers ago. It's the quintessential New England town, complete with a common, a bandstand, a statue of a boy scout, and an old mill that's been turned into classrooms and performance space for the university. If we lived there instead of here, our morning would look like this:

instead of like this:

Hugely Successful Christmas Breakfast

Okay, so a food photographer I'm not! Despite my great anticipation, I managed to take a photo of this puffy quiche before digging in and finding it exceeded even my too-high expectations. The recipe is totally simple, and the secret's in the cheese. (Yes, that's a molten cheese lake in the center.)

This recipe also has an interesting history: it was contributed to a church cookbook by the wife of the then-Chief Justice of the New Hampshire Supreme Court. I once went to a church party at their house where one of the main attractions (for me, anyway) was that they were fostering newborn lambs in a playpen in the kitchen, it being a typical N.H. January and too cold in the barn for the little ones. You haven't lived until you've held an adorable lamb baby in your arms during a party. Trust me on that one.

Crustless Easy Quiche

2 eggs, beaten
1 cup milk
3/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. pepper (I never measure)
4 oz. cheddar cheese, grated (I used ***Cabot brand habanero cheese***)
Spinach, broccoli, bacon, onion, mushrooms, whatever (I used bacon and mushrooms)

Grease pie plate with butter. Place cooked meat and/or vegetables in plate. Beat eggs. Add flour, milk, and seasonings. Add 3/4 of the shredded cheese. Pour into pie plate and bake 30 minutes at 425 degrees. Don't overbake. Remove and sprinkle with remaining cheese, then bake about 2 minutes more.

This is almost as good the second day, nuked in the microwave for a few minutes.

Weather Update

Yes, we are still obsessed with the view of Plymouth, N.H. Today's forecast: SNOW!

No Leaves Left Hanging

Here's one last snapshot before we turn the page on autumn and brace for winter. The last leafy holdouts in this frame (click on photo to enlarge) relinquished their hold and fluttered to earth within the past 24 hours. J.G. says snow should be right around the corner in upper New England.

"Past Peak" Still Looks Good to Me