Where We Come From

I don't usually share much in this blog about my exact location because I do try to maintain some anonymity.  I am a teacher in a public school district and they might frown upon the number of postings of my butt or some of the comments I have made about things over the years.  I think it's all pretty tame, but you know how things seem to be going these days.

I have, a time or two, mentioned specific things about where I live, but you'll have to do some sleuthing to find them.

I think it's pretty clear that I live in New England, near the water.   Because I've said "I live in New England, near the water."   So go ahead, comb through the states of New England that have coastline and see if you can find me.

In the meantime, let's talk about where k-ster and I grew up and what it's done to influence us.

We live exactly where we've lived our whole lives, except he had to move two towns westward.  I live in the house I lived in for much of my childhood and the same property that I've lived on since I was 2 years old.  My mother grew up here as well.

From our houses, we can almost throw a rock to the river.  Well, I probably couldn't even hit my parents' house from mine with a rock, but k-ster could probably get it closer to the river.  Especially if there were no trees in the way.

And if he was launching it from a cannon.

But the point is, when it's low tide, we can smell it.  If I run really fast, I can be at the beach in like 5 minutes, the river in 2.  In the fall, I can't exactly see the water of the river but I can see where it is when the leaves are down.

K-ster's house was slightly farther from the beach growing up,  but maybe like 1 minute farther away.  He spent many summers of his childhood out on a beach where you can drive and set up came for 72 hours if you have a truck camper.  This is as foreign to me as spending a summer on the moon.  He tried to instill this love of living on the beach with me but it just didn't work.

Ironically, I couldn't care less about boats, even though I'm supposed to know all about them since I live on the coast.  I took sailing lessons from the town when I was a kid and really liked it, but I have no interest in having my own sailboat or going outside of the little cove where we took lessons.

K-ster has a motorboat that he finally put in the water this year, so the other night, I went on a very quick ride (like 5 minutes because it was getting dark).  It was right at sunset and soooooo pretty.

These pictures  look much colder than it was.

K-ster's friend who has a house on the water let him keep the boat there for the weekend so he didn't have to put it in and out when he wanted to use it.

This is called a "finger" and there are a few houses on each side that have docks.  There are like 5 or so fingers that go out into the river, and then eventually go to the ocean.  It's super convenient to put your boat there and then just go out when you want.  Not so convenient to own the house because they are soooooooooo expensive, being on the water.

Before you get too excited, let me remind you that k-ster isn't a millionaire and I'm a teacher, so the boat is no yacht and in fact doesn't have seats.  K-ster's beanbag chair serves as a seat for passengers and he has to stand the whole time he drives.  This is obviously a boat for fishing and for men.  Not wining and dining the ladies in comfort and style.

What I'm really trying to say is that there's not potty on this boat.  Therefore, I don't spend time on it.

Our little tour went out of the finger and sort of into the river.  K-ster's lights don't work so we can't be out after dark or the water police will arrest you.  Maybe it's not that dramatic but they do frown on not having lights, so we came back before dark.

We went around the corner, where there are LOTS of houses like this.  I used to teach an aerobics class for this little wealthy homeowners association.  Everyone had these gorgeous homes and there was a pool and little clubhouse that had a patio with a tent.  Someone got the brilliant idea that they should offer fitness classes there, so for a couple of summers, I did.  They weren't as dedicated as I'd like and it sort of evaporated after a few summers.

It was kind of like teaching at Richmere.   A fantasy world just down the road from my own, with cash flowing like I could never imagine.  Not exactly Hollywood, but the only thing missing would be handlers for these people.  Maybe if they had handlers, the fitness classses would have continued because they would have been scheduled to actually show up for them.

The funny part to me was that if I kayaked over from my side of the river, it would have taken like 5 minutes.  To drive all the way down the river, across the bridge and back up the river on the other side was about a 15 minutes drive.  But, since we don't live on the beach, I would have had nowhere to leave the kayak, so it wouldn't have worked out.

Plus, I can see all sorts of disasters with the "I'll just kayak over" method.  Like they're all standing there watching and I'm stuck in the current, the weeds, behind a boat, etc.

Hmm, there was a point to my post when I started.  Oh yeah, about where we live.  Scenery like this must be the reason we choose to stay here instead of opting for city life or life out in the country.  We need to smell that salt air.

Or low tide.   Which bears a fabulous similarity to sulphur.  It's a joy you can't get away from.

Linking here:

http://www.myturnforus.com/