Mid-May and we’re all warm and cozy, but my thoughts harken to the long-ago-time, April 30, in Antrim. My program on New Hampshire Town Meeting had been rescheduled from a February evening when the roads were too slick with snow and sleet and God-knows-what-all to navigate. Originally, we were to meet in the downtown Antrim Town Hall, but in honor of spring, the meeting was now to be held at the historical Grange Hall.
It happens the hall was unheated on account of the transition from wood stove to pellet stove was incomplete. But what the heck, it was the the last day of April.
The day started out chilly and grew chillier. The organizer had the good sense to bring blankets, and draped them over the benches for the audience.
And they wrapped up good. Over their coats.
I wore my coat through the whole program. And did a lot of pacing. I encouraged applause from time to time, just to warm up their hands.
At one point I said, “You folks look awful cold. Are you sure you want the whole load? I could give you the short version.”
Oh no, said the hardy Antrimians, we’ve been waiting a long time for this.
So I gave them the whole load. ‘Bout an hours worth counting the Q&A and stories at the end. Followed by the traditional milling about, eating of sweets, and drinking of coffee, lemonade, etc.
When I got to the car, my feet felt like two numb ice cubes at the ends of my legs. The thermometer on the dash read 39 degrees.
A good time was had by all.
New Story: Uncle Junior went down to Portsmouth to the fish market to buy for the family clam bake. He located a likely establishment: Daggert and McGregor Fresh Fish Market.
There he encountered a fella who looked like he knew his way around a fish. He had on the high boots, the rubber overalls, and so forth. Uncle Junior said: “Are you Mr. Daggert or Mr. McGregor?
Fella said, “Don’t much matter. One of us is dead.”