So, as I said, my Paul and I took our belated Labor Day holiday last weekend. Apparently it’s becoming tradition (if twice counts as tradition) to go to a remote part of New England with the dogs for a few days, and hike. My Paul has a colleague who owns a little cabin up in the Middle-of-Nowhere, New Hampshire, and he offered us to stay in it if we ever wanted to get away. Did we ever want to get away. And because I am in seminary full-time and Alicia has now started college as well, a free stay in a rustic cabin sounded like a great plan. In any case, as we both kept telling each other, “It’s better than a tent!” Which is what we would have been staying in otherwise.
It was actually kind of cute–although some elements of camping were still there, like trying to make a bonfire out of completely soaked wood, or trying to wash dishes in a bathroom sink (they’re doing some work on the house and the kitchen sink is currently disconnected). Also, we were completely bereft of internet. It was awesome. We went on two hikes and a long walk over the course of our three-ish days there, and both we and the dogs were happy.
Let it be known that the Middle-of-Nowhere, New Hampshire, makes the town I refer to as Boondocks, New England, seem like a thriving metropolis. My Paul says it makes it seem like the Bronx. He is not wrong. Also, They weren’t messing around when They nicknamed New Hampshire The Granite State.
Oh yeah. I went there.
For more funny wordness, can any of you see why this sign, in a town we drove through on the way home, made my Paul and me laugh our heads off?
For more of what we saw, feel free to browse.