November 1st, 1991

November 1st, 1991

At William’s family home, New Hampshire, USA

Up until yesterday, the only knowledge I had of New Hampshire, was related to Robert Frost, whose poetry I was introduced to by Christopher. As tiny as Christopher’s New York apartment is, there are books spilling all over the place and one night while I was poring over them, he pulled one out and began to read. I don’t recall the name of the poem but I remember it being about loneliness in the night and even though I was thoroughly enjoying the evening, the words left me feeling melancholy. Christopher later gave me a book of Robert Frost’s poetry and inside he scribbled a little note saying he chose the book because it contained the poem I’d evidently been moved by but also for the fact Robert Frost’s Mother was from Scotland.

But oh, how I digress! I’m here with William! We’re visiting his parents, staying in not quite what I’d call a farmhouse but the sort of rambling home you’d imagine finding in a small American town, surrounded by vast tracts of open land and snow-topped mountains in the distance. Needless to say, it’s very picturesque, especially with the expanse of red and gold foliage his Mum painstakingly felt the need to talk about pretty much all morning! William’s Dad is the more humourous of the two and told a few lame jokes but I got the impression he was attempting to put me at ease, which I appreciate.

William picked me up at Logan airport yesterday and I expected we’d be going to Cape Cod but he surprised me by asking if I wanted to “head North.” What he failed to tell me, was that we were coming to visit, or in my case, “meet for the first time,” his parents! He didn’t spill the beans until we were ten minutes away, sending me into a panic because really, isn’t meeting the parents something most people would consider a big deal?

Our arrival was like something out of a film, with barking dog (gorgeous Black lab called Mandy) running back and forth, and William’s Dad coming out of the shed, clad in an oversized flannel shirt, his arms laden with jars of what I later discovered to be jam (called jelly here!)  and maple syrup he made.

Edith was in the kitchen and my first thought was how much older she looks than Mum. She was welcoming, but not to the extent Mum would be, then again, I have to keep in mind she’s meeting her son’s girlfriend for the first time, so she might be holding back.

Girlfriend? Did I just write that? Yes, I do believe I did! Mum was the one that suggested I “give William another wee chance,” so I took her advice and here I am! So far, so good, aside from showing up with not even a bunch of flowers or a bottle of wine (which, incidentally, his Father also makes).

I think I’ll be fine here!

 

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