Tag: NH

SHUTTERING THE BUNKERS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

For all of its uber-quaintness and tony appeal today, the neighboring city to our south has long had its seamy side. It was, after all, a seaport – and, for that matter, remains one.

While times have changed and its once notorious districts have long since been gentrified or razed, one bit of that heritage has lingered. We see it along the major highways, usually on the side headed toward the vacation lands north and east, and not always in the city itself but close enough to count.

These are the cement-block bunkers that sometimes tout themselves as bookstores, but we’ve never been fooled. A few actually started out, it seems, as gasoline stations that covered their windows when they converted to the sex trade, while the others may have actually been constructed with this function in mind. Magazines, videos, toys … but not live performances. Maybe there are some clubs elsewhere, though I suspect that requires a trip to Portland or Boston. Maybe Lawrence or Lowell.

These bunkers may have a thin window or two high up in the wall, but the doors are solid. In other words, no peeping. If anything, these blockhouses always look forbidding and forlorn. You might even say they appear shameful or guilty rather than flirtatious and giddy.

Rarely, too, is a car or pickup seen parked in front. And in the past few years, there have been fewer and fewer of those parked on the side, either.

Unlike their cousins on downtown streets in larger cities, where customers may slip discretely through the doorway or out, these offer far less secrecy for their patrons. If anyone knows your car or truck, they know where you are.

As we’ve driven past on the busy roadways, I’ve long wondered how these places stay in business. Magazines of all stripes have been folding or shrinking, and when it comes to racy photography, there’s plenty available online these days. No secret there. Ditto, the videos. As for the toys, well, we have online retailers of all sorts, along with rapid delivery.

Well, we now notice another of these little box stores is shuttered. It’s not in a spot we see any other store wanting. It will be curious to see what happens to the real estate. But there are no signs of mourning, either.

Funny thing, though: just up the road, at the mall, Victoria’s Secret is thriving.

DREAMING OF A WHAT?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Golly, it really is too early in the season for this much snow. I spent much of yesterday digging out from a foot or so of the stuff, our first real round as we plunge into another winter, even though it’s officially still autumn and we’ve had a blanket of white on the ground for a week now.

It’s also too early to be this cold, considering the minus-2 Fahrenheit forecast for tonight. That should seal in the snow cover, for sure.

My wife is no doubt anticipating sending me outside with a guest or two to harvest Brussels sprouts in a little over a week, when it comes time to prepare for our traditional Yule feast. Looks like once again we’ll be using an ax to break the icy covering and a shovel to locate the greens. I’ve previously posted about the way frost gives the sprouts and kale a wonderful sweetness, but the snowpack always thickens the plot. She finds it highly amusing, watching from the kitchen window.

Meanwhile, as I shoveled yesterday, I kept remembering that since this is just the start, it would be wise to make an extra effort to leave room for the next storm … or three or four or … Thus, don’t leave the pile at the end of the driveway so tall you can’t see oncoming traffic, be sure to push the icy wall along the driveway back so you won’t have to throw the next round higher than your shoulders, keep as much on the side away from the foundation so it won’t drain into the cellar, … Yes, there’s a long list, based on long experience living here.

Then I remembered something else. Last month, I finally got the bindings on my cross-country skis fixed – and new boots to go with them. Sure looks like a good day to go outside and try them out in a loop around the yard. Hope I keep my balance. Here we go, even before the latest forecast: With Christmas really just around the corner, we’re expecting another inch or two tomorrow.

Whee!

MORE THAN A DENTIST

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Many of the Red Barn postings have reflected the experiences of living in a relatively small city – almost 30,000 population – set near other communities of similar scale, all a little over an hour from Boston. These conditions, by themselves, do not necessarily guarantee an ideal stomping ground, but for the most part, I very much like where we landed. Having some of the neighbors we do, I should emphasize, is the biggest pleasure.

This scale also encourages face-to-face interactions in multiple settings. You run into people you know at the supermarket, the bank, a contradance at City Hall or the annual Greek festival, a chamber music concert, one of the coffee houses or a corner pub, well, you get the picture.

It’s all so civilized.

Much of this has been embodied in our dentist’s practice as well. Paul and Marge are both local kids who graduated as high school sweethearts and, well, I can let them tell their own love story. It’s charming.

When I first moved to town a little over a dozen years ago, I asked around Meeting for recommendations for a new dentist, and their practice came up repeatedly. For good reason.

As I said, their practice. And you notice, the first-name basis.

Everybody loves Marge, it just can’t be helped. She knows everybody and has a lively curiosity about their interests and activities and, well, let me add she never used a computer in the office – her penciled spread sheets were all she needed. Besides, it was also in her head. She might mention as you were leaving that your wife had an appointment in three weeks.

Paul, meanwhile, was down-to-earth and gentle. My previous dentist had expanded his building and his operation and wanted to replace all my fillings. Fortunately, I relocated in time. Paul correctly said my fillings were fine and saved me and my insurance thousands of dollars. Over the years, he’s also performed two root canals on me, and they felt no different than getting a filling. He lived up to his promise to this chicken on that count.

There were two other reliable delights in my semi-annual visits.

One was the bird feeders outside the second-floor windows, which were always flocked. While their office was close enough for me to walk to it and back, their feeders attracted a different array of birds than the ones we got at our own feeders. The grosbeaks, especially.

The other delight was Paul’s latest photography. He’s good, very good. And not every photographer can claim the kind of close-ups of bears he got at his home bird feeders just beyond the patio sliders … five days in a row.

Well, the last time I was in for my cleaning they announced it was their final day. They’d just signed the papers the previous day and were handing the practice over to a younger dentist they believe shares their values and ways. We hope they’re right. He’s keeping the staff and the setting.

As Marge said, they’re 72, though it’s hard to believe it. And as they said in their farewell letter, they came to see their patients as friends and neighbors as well.

They’re right. I hope we’ll be bumping into them around town. And I hope Paul decides to launch a photography blog of his own. I’ll certainly let you know if he does.

AUDIO TAPE LEGACY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

A neighbor showed up after a Saturday morning of hitting yard sales and presented me with three shoeboxes full of classical music audiotapes. It was quite a haul and included some impressive collections – sets of the symphonies of Ives, Shostakovich, and Vaughn Williams, among others. But there was also Ella, along with a few other quirky delights.

Of course, listening to these, often in the loft of the barn, also reminds me of the passing technology, how passe tapes have become, even more than vinyl. But at least I could also play them in the car, especially in those spots in the countryside where public radio does not always come in. Better yet, still can.

TRUE HOSPITALITY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The New Hampshire economy – like the rest of New England, actually – relies heavily on tourism. But to put a smiling face on the cash cow, businesses and public officials alike call it the hospitality industry.

Dictionaries, however, say nothing about making a profit on hospitality. In fact, one calls it “behaving in a kind and generous manner toward guests; fond of entertaining; affording or expressing generosity toward guests.” Generosity extended by the host, we should note, and not the guest.

But looking at the word afresh, I’m also seeing another industry arising: the hospital. As in hospitalization. Oh, my.

SOARING AND SWIRLING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

In mid-March, the buzzards return, soon followed by hawks.

“Buzzards,” as one acquaintance long ago explained, “is what cowboys call turkey vultures.”

But buzzard is so much more fun to say, fast or slow.

Yes, a few linger around here all winter, along with a number of hawks. But one day, looking up, you realize the balance has changed.

They’ve mostly headed for Florida again. Along with the rest of the “snow birds.”

PARKING LOT DRAMA

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

I’m sitting in the car on a sunny afternoon, waiting for my wife or a daughter to emerge from the supermarket.

I watch a young woman pace nervously (am I being redundant), then climb on the trunk to look around or perhaps be seen by someone. She repeats this several times.

Finally, I break the ice, offer to make a phone call or help in some other way. She laughs and declines the offer.

“I’m waiting for some guy,” she says.

Oh, yes, I should have known. I think of all the other times I was waiting for some girl or woman. We know it’s a common scene.

And then he pulls up, much older than I’d expected. He goes to the driver-side window, waves a coat-hanger, and goes to work.

So it wasn’t just some guy, after all. So much for the romance that usually accompanies the story. Unless that happened somewhere down the road once she got going.