May 17, 2008
A lot of people, particularly my sister, don't understand why I live in Maine. It's snowy, it's cold, the health care costs are outrageous ($10,000 deductible anyone?), the taxes are high, and my kid's school is way too small to teach him how to play a stringed instrument.
None of those things bother me so much. After all, we like to ski, we're not planning on any major illnesses or accidents, taxes stink no matter where you live, and if James desperately wants to play the cello we'll sign him up for private lessons.
In the early 50's, my father's parents worked unbelievably hard to move their family out of Northern Maine and give them a new, better life in Connecticut. I often wonder if my Memere and Pepere are exasperated up in heaven, knowing that I voluntarily moved my family back.
But it doesn't keep me awake at night because yesterday morning Jared and I hopped into the car, drove for 20 minutes, and hiked around in this: