We better bring her in

 We better bring her in





    This story concerns a stressful time in New Hampshire that did not jangle the veteran navigator of Bear Cove challenges. As Ed and I have discussed, some of our very favorite times in our lives were just riding the back roads of Grafton, Belknap and Carroll counties with the steady hand of Greg at the wheel of a rented mini-van, cursing New Hampshire drivers and knowing exactly where to turn to end up in Ashland, Holderness, Moltenborough or Center Sandwich. He was right where he wanted to be, at the wheel and in control. Meanwhile we got to admire some fine scenery and occasionally wildlife never seen in our So Cal drives. So, what happened was a failure of the Bear Cove Leach Field which is a septic system that the plumbing of camp depends upon. The thing was overflowing and  not accepting any more sewage. This was a problem for the gathering of some 14 guests and it meant no showers or laundry services. Showers were not too much of a problem with a soft water lake available but washing clothes was an absolute necessitiy in a place a sizeable drive away from a laundromat. There had been some other stress that year and one of the few spats between Mr. and Mrs. Sheehy of La Crescenta. So, it seemed a good break for me and Greg to take loads of washing to the Village Laundry in Moltenborough, This gave us a few hours to let the dust and sewage settle at camp and allowed us to walk around the area getting some exercise. Retail establishments in New Hampshire are always hanging on by a thread since the volume of visitors stopping by may be limited to just Summer months. This demands a struggle to get by for half of the year with little foot traffic. Greg with his MBA had an eye for soon to fail businesses and he always described them as having a skull and crossbones above the door. Such was a place we strolled into near the laundromat that had a  freshly painted sign hawking t-shirts. I had actually wanted to get a shirt for Katya with the old man of the mountain on it and had cash in hand, ready to spend. As soon as we walked in there was a stink of failure in the air. The t-shirts were just blanks that you then chose a decal to be ironed onto the front showing a moose or jumping fish or the words Squam lake. I believe Greg may have said under his breath "hay-oh" but there were three eager salespeople seeing customers like sharks see a school of slow fish. I took one look around at the offerings and immediately started backpedalling and said "we better bring her in to make her choice." Greg knew exactly what that translated to which was "let's get the hell out of here." The phrase was used many times between us in any situation where you were not impressed by the possibilities of purchase. 




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