Thursday's Children - Inspired by Nature

I thought I'd focus this week on a positive source of inspiration: Nature. At least I find it so, because there are many majestic and breath-taking spots on this planet of ours. The photo above is Profile Lake in Franconia Notch, NH. Franconia Notch is right up there on my list with Acadia National Park and the white beaches and palms of the Gulf Coast.

I've been an avid nature fan all my life, ever since my mother kicked us outside to roam the woods and fields of rural Maine. We took occasional trips to the Maine coast and mountains, too. My artist's eye and poet's heart finds peace, joy, and nurture in the sights, scents, and sounds of the outdoors.

When I discovered that during the 1800s, traveling artists visited our nation's (and Europe's) famous beauty spots to work, I was inspired to write my Canvas & Corset series. In the White Mountains of NH, for example, we had many "grand" hotels that housed visitors seeking the peace and inspiration of nature and God--while providing three sumptuous meals per day, social events, and sporting excursions. Sigh. They knew how to take vacations during those days--all summer!
Several of these hotels remain. Here are two in the Whites: Mountainview Grand and Mount Washington Hotel

I love the contrast of a luxurious resort set down in wilderness. I also appreciate the philosophy of the late Victorian period that recognized the power of our great landscapes to inspire. This era gave birth to many conservation movements. The Sierra Club, the Appalachian Mountain Club, Acadia National Park, Yellowstone--all these were started by wealthy and/or cultured nature-lovers who recognized something worth preserving for future generations.

In my books, I hope to convey the beauty and power of these landscapes, providing the reader with a mini-vacation of their own. That's my particular challenge.

How about you? Are you inspired by nature?

Climate Change

Talking about the weather is a small-talk staple, handy in almost any situation. But although mocked as a trite topic, weather is so much more than that. Rain, snow, sun, ice: weather forms an ever changing backdrop to our daily lives. The drama of a crippling blizzard or ice storm. The sensuous pleasure of  long, sunny days. The downright dreariness of a wet week. Our moods, outlook and health are affected by the weather. 

In New Hampshire's North Country, weather's impact goes even deeper. The tourism and wood industry based economies depend on the right weather to operate, whether concerning snowfall, leaf color or frozen ground to hold heavy equipment. We have such great dependence and so little control. 

Ah, a North Country winter. They start with spitting snow in October and end in April with frigid winds and a last snowfall or two. Spring is hard-earned, a sweet reward after an endurance test of below zero temps and towering snowbanks. Slippery roads and high heating bills. Inky, icy dark at four p.m. 

I spent twenty-four years in New Hampshire. I used to laugh at "snow-birds" and consider them wimps. I cross-country skied, snow-shoed, hiked and even camped (once!) in winter. The sight of pink alpine glow across the snow-topped mountains was one of my favorite sights. 

So what happened? I got tired. Tired of being cold for eight months each year. Tired of seeing fall come earlier and earlier. (like August 15th) Remember the dog days of summer--so hot the road tar was soft under your sneakers as you plodded to the lake? Despite reports of global warming, it seems like we're still getting long, cold winters but summers just aren't what they used to be. 

The weather was a big factor in our decision to move to Georgia. I'm a self-diagnosed sufferer of seasonal affective disorder. Endless gray days make me feel blah. Until you're out of it, you don't realize how stressful winter is, mentally and physically. And lately, economically. $4 a gallon heating oil drove me out. 

As I write this, on February 9, it is 72 degrees and sunny. There is a soft southerly breeze. I feel energized and optimistic. To me, a hot sunny day is like a Christmas present. And Christmas lasts nine months in the South.  

Boiled Peanuts and Beer

Every region has its delicacies that may be considered odd by outsiders. In New England, we have moose meat. Fiddlehead ferns. Whoopie pies. 

In Georgia, one favorite is boiled peanuts. Yes, I mean peanuts in their shells bobbing in liquid. I'll bet you're thinking, "yuck." Convenience stores sell them next to the coffee and the steamed hot dogs.  Today I found a roadside stand in Rabbittown. The gentleman running the stand kindly posed for me before dispensing a sample.

The shells are soft, but the peanuts inside are firm and chewy, not crunchy. Tasty.  A little salty due to the ham hocks he throws into the water. He starts the twelve hour process inside on a range then brings them out to steep over a wood fire for the final three or four hours. 

According to www.whatscookingamerica.net, a great regional food site, green peanuts, i.e. not roasted, are used. They are only available from May through November, the peanut season. The first recorded instance of boiling peanuts was during the Civil War, when food supplies ran short. The soldiers found that peanuts boiled in salt lasted up to seven days and make a protein-rich ration. They even wrote a song, "Goober Peas."

In the winter, the boiled peanut man deep fries peanuts, too. Those should be interesting.

Now to another interesting topic, beer. Like the great state of New Hampshire, which makes money on alcohol sales while spending many resources on finding drunk drivers, Georgia has a convoluted relationship with booze. This state still has happy hour and from five to seven at night, you can get 1/2 price drinks. But only the 12 oz. draft beer is half price, not the 32 oz.   (32 oz.--it's almost too big to pick up)  New Hampshire does allows happy hour but until recently bars weren't allowed to advertise them. Very strange.

Last night, we went out to a great little place, A.J.s. You can build your own hot dog (they're huge) with a dozen condiments, and at happy hour, the wings are $.40 each. We arrived at quarter to five. Only about eight people were there. But at five on the dot, the start of happy hour, the place was swamped. For our $12 we had four-five beers (in all) and a serving of wings big enough for two. Not bad.

Georgia doesn't allow liquor, beer or wine sales on Sundays. But the bars are open. Over the past two years, the issue has been hotly debated in the Georgia House and Senate, with many opposing it on religious grounds. One senator questioned the sponsor's religious faith. You'd never see that particular argument in New Hampshire, I believe. Opponents feel passage would "encroach" on the Lord's day, while proponents point to lost tax revenues for the state, pointing to those who cross the Alabama line on Sundays for booze. Right now there is an online petition to garner support for the measure. It looks like a state-wide referendum may be used as a politically expedient way to settle the issue. 

Speaking of blue laws, some counties in Tennessee are "dry." This means no sales of alcohol at all, any time. Last year we visited the Jack Daniels distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee. We like Jack Daniels and were fascinated by the fact that a thirteen-year-old started the business--after he learned the distilling technique from a preacher. In the museum, we saw exhibits explaining the multi-step process and naturally, after all that, we were longing to try a fresh shot. 

We wandered down to town, just a couple of blocks away, and scanned the square for a tavern or even a restaurant. Nope. Nothing but cafes and diner-type places, and not many of those. It was a hot and beautiful day--about 80 degrees--and there were dozens of motorcycles parked around the square. We asked one gentleman where we could get a cold beer and a shot of Jack and he replied, "Not here. This is a dry county. They make it down in the holler over yonder, but you can't buy it here." What a missed opportunity. How well would a Jack Daniels steakhouse do? And they'd sell it by the barrel in the gift shops. 

The county line was ten miles away so we headed out. But we still get a chuckle when we remember him saying, "dry county" in his deep Southern drawl. 

Just peachy...

One of the main reasons we moved to Georgia is the weather. And it's been just peachy. 80 degrees in September. 70 degrees in October. Lately, we've had a couple of 50 degree days, unusually cold, but then again, Gorham, NH, has 1/2 inch of snow today. 

Dan and I are both (almost) life-long New-Englanders. I had a brief stint in Albuquerque, NM in 1979, and I hated the flat brown landscape and lack of trees.  I was so homesick! A photo of a New Hampshire road with stone wall and autumn leaves almost brought me to tears. When I flew back East (over miles of endless lush green) and heard "Ba Haba airlines" on Logan's intercom, I knew I was home. 

During winter after winter of 20 below and snow up to our armpits (when we were lucky), I thought snowbirds were wimps.  I snowshoed, cross-country skied, even tried ice-climbing. Sunset's pink alpine glow on icy white peaks was one of my favorite sights. 

So what changed? I'm not sure. All I know is, two years ago, on August 15, it was 50 degrees with a 20-mile-per-hour wind. We were freezing in our long sleeves and fleece jackets. What happened to the dog days of summer from our youth? You know: hot, hazy and humid.  Global warming is a top issue but all I've seen in northern New Hampshire is cold and often wet summers and pretty dry winters. 2008 was decent, but we had three almost snow-less winters before that. Killed the skiing and snowmobiling, mainstays of the economy up there.

Anyway, Dan and I looked at each other on that fateful day and decided, we're out of here. We're tired of being cold. Tired of shoveling snow. Tired of dangerous driving on icy roads. And don't even get me started on the cost of heating oil.

It thrills me to think that pansies grow all winter here. There are two growing seasons (NH has one--three months). Spring comes with the calendar, not in June. To me, an 80 degree, sunny day is like a Christmas present. In Georgia, Christmas lasts five months. 

I'll take it. 

In a state of red tape...

We're from the "Live Free or Die" state. One of the few things it has going for it, besides beautiful mountains and no sales or income taxes, is the relative ease of dealing with bureaucracy.  Starting a writing business is easy. Register your business name, if you have one, or become an LLC or corporation, if you want to. No town or county licenses.

Not in the peach state. First you have to get a driver's license within 30 days of residency. And, to get that, you have to provide passports or birth certificates and proof of residency. And, if you have been married or divorced, marriage licenses and divorce decrees for each name change!

They actually ask you on the application if  (paraphrased) "you drink or use drugs to intoxication rendering you unable to operate a vehicle." WTF? Who would say yes?

Once you have that magic license, (they spelled our name wrong and it's SIMPLE--and RIGHT on all the hundreds of documents we provided) you have to go to:

1. the county tax commissioner for an affidavit proving you don't owe taxes

2. the city planning board for "certificate of occupancy," i.e. zoning allows writers to work at home! (if you swear clients don't visit...)

3. the county for a business license--with your photo ID!

Why do I bother? Well, I want to publicize us and perhaps even do some consulting work for the state. And they'll need--you guessed it--a copy of the business license. And probably my driver's license. 

Probably this is old news for most people in most states. But I think those states could learn something from New Hampshire when it comes to being entrepreneur-friendly.