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We had the pleasure last week of attending Daughter #1′s college graduation from Roanoke College in Salem, VA.  It was a lovely day, not too warm by Virginia standards but sunny enough to put a slight burn on my pasty post-winter New Hampshire skin.

After a quick vacation in the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, Daughter #1 plans to return to the Granite State and will go to UNH for a Masters in School Counseling in the fall.

I was surprised at first by her choice of career.  #1 has always sought exotic adventure–travelling abroad as a People to People Student Ambassador when she was 11; going to England as an au pair at 14; studying in Mexico the summer before she turned 16; and being an exchange student to Chile while at Roanoke.

She wants to return to New Hampshire, specifically rural New Hampshire, as a school guidance counselor with a particular interest in at-risk youth. As she has explained her calling, I have come to understand her choice.  She has a real heart for people, and people of lesser means in rural states increasingly are falling behind.

Let me explain:  If you live outside of town in our neck of the woods, your choices are limited.  For instance, we live two miles from our general store where we pick up our mail and get convenience store items; other than that, we are seven miles from grocery and drug stores; filling stations, restaurants, health care, etc.  With the rise in fuel prices, if you are under budget constraints, even a 14-mile round trip can make you pause.  And if you are unlucky enough to have your vehicle break down, you’re out of luck.

(However, limited help is in sight.  Carroll County Transit has just begun door-to-door service in our region, thanks to federal stimulus money. What will happen when fed money runs out?)

Here’s another problem, when we moved to our home 16 years ago, we were as modern as anyone else.  We had dial-up Internet service and got our tv reception through the airwaves.

Now, high speed and broadband are ubiquitous–but not for us.  We are one of the “pockets” the phone companies have not yet reached with broadband, and the cable company has not made it beyond the corner a quarter mile from our door.  We get our Internet through a MiFi , but we pay more than $50/month for it…not a fee many would think of paying if they find it tough to put food on the table.

And then there’s last year’s changeover to digital broadcasting. If you can’t get cable, and don’t have a satellite dish (another item that can be prohibitively expensive when watching one’s pennies), you may have been left behind when the nation was supposedly leaping forward.  Before the switchover, we got as few as 5 and as many as 7 channels–not all always perfectly clean and sharp, but able to be viewed and heard.

Now we are lucky to get one channel and frequently we receive none at all.  On stormy days, we receive no news of what’s going on in the state, in the nation, in the world and we can feel downright cut off.

While the term ”at risk” usually conjures images of kids caught in crowded poverty in urban settings, rural “at risk” students can lack basic means of achieving cultural knowledge and broadening their worldview by simple virtue of their location and their family’s economic condition.

Daughter #1 sees a problem that’s real, yet hidden from the view of so many with romantic notions of rural life.  I’m proud of her choice to be a school counselor to at risk students in rural New Hampshire.

When I interviewed for my first job in New Hampshire, I was asked if I knew that there are actually 5 seasons in the Lakes Region:  summer, fall, winter, mud, and spring.  Someone else in the room piped up that actually there are six.

If you’re from out of state,  you probably think you know what the sixth season is. You’ve heard the news that  ”The Donald” is in Portsmouth today, making more moves toward an expected bid for the Presidential Primary.  He is one in a long line of politicians who have schlepped their way here in the past months. Nearly two dozen potential candidates have made 71 visits in 103 days.

Fox News and the South Carolina Republican Party have scheduled May 5 as the first in what is sure to be a long string of debates between potential Presidential candidates.  Candidates are invited to participate if they have filed their intent to run with the FEC by May 3.

It is now less than a week until that deadline and only former NM governor Gary Johnson has officially declared his run. Former MA governor Mitt Romney and former MN Tim Pawlenty have filed papers with the Federal Election Committee (FEC), but both say they have only formed “exploratory committees.”

Wait a minute! Nearly two dozen potential  candidates have been buzzing around New Hampshire, making 71 visits in 103 days and yet  none have declared an intent to run? It brings to mind the true sixth season in New Hampshire.

Black Fly

I head off this weekend (by silver Beetle, not train this time) to Daughter #2′s championship crew regatta near York, PA. I’ve asked the other parents, most of whom hail from the Mid-Atlantic states, to make sure the thermostat is turned up. After the long, wet winter, I’d like to taste some of that balmy air folks in VA and MD have already been heard complaining about.

#2 (remember, that’s birth order, not merit-based) is coxswain in a women’s 8, following in a time-honored family tradition.  (Well, the honor is all mine, actually.  No one else has rowed in the family except Daughter #1 who had a “good” time learning to set the boat when she was at the Saint Paul’s Advanced Studies Program the summer after her junior year.)

Rowing has a long New Hampshire history.  Today, Brewster Academy rows out of the beautiful Pinkney Boathouse in Wolfeboro. Their Men’s Youth Four took 20th at the Head of the Charles this past fall.  I understand there is also a club, Winnipesaukee Rowing out of Meredith. Are they still up and running?  Are there more clubs rowing on Winnipesaukee?

Center Harbor was the site of the first Harvard/Yale Boat Race.  The 2-mile event was held August 3, 1852.  The yet-to-be-elected 14th President Franklin Pierce, a native of Hillsborough, watched from the Coe House, a beautiful federal style mansion that is now a well-reviewed restaurant. (It reopens in May.)

The “mother of women’s rowing,” Ernestine Bayer, considered one of the 10 most influential people in US rowing in the 20th century, called New Hampshire home for the last decades of her life.  At the time of her death, she reportedly held the record for women’s ergometer (90+ age category.)

Finally, at least two U.S. crew Olympians have called the Lakes Region home:  Hilary Gehman of Wolfeboro rowed in the quadruple sculls in the 2000 and 2004 Olympics, and Wolf Moser of Moultonboro was at the same Olympics in the Men’s 4.  Beyond any mention I may have made of crew in her senior English class, I doubt that Hilary had heard much of crew before going to school at Colby College, but she now coaches at Cornell–after a stint as Novice Women’s coach at my own alma mater.  Wolf began his rowing career at St. Paul’s School and continued at Harvard,  but a quick search doesn’t show that he’s involved with rowing now.  Anyone have an update?

“Never Row” was the motto of my college crew team, the implication being that once you start, everything else in life becomes secondary. And apparently the malady is genetic. Daughter #2 coxes on Saturday, and Hilary Gehman’s father is said to have retired…mostly so he can have more time on the water in his daughter’s hand-me-down shell.

Never row!

I just received an email from Amtrak; kids ages 2-15 ride Amtrak trains for FREE May 1 to June 9. Of course, some restrictions apply…like the kids have to be accompanied by a paying adult. Add on Amtrak’s long-playing 50% off companion fares for adults accompanying kids on college visits, and frequent regional deals for families, and if families don’t already relish train travel, they might just have to give it a try.

I have to admit that I’m a rather late convert to train travel.  But it is now my transportation of choice whenever logistics allow.

Daughter 2 (ranked by birth order, not relative merit) enrolled at a lovely college in Fredericksburg, VA this past fall.  My husband and I drove her to school in a 30-hour turnaround during Orientation in August.  Fighting traffic and middle-age exhaustion, we looked at each other at a rest stop in Connecticut at 3 a.m. and vowed, “Never again,” on such a short timetable.

We took Amtrak for Parents’ Weekend, and then again (but on to Williamsburg) for Thanksgiving.  Soooo civilized.  How’s this for no fuss, no muss?

We park our car at the clean and patrolled bus station in Concord, NH, grab the bus to South Station, walk next door to the train station (marvelling at the architecture and how it’s been fitted to modern use), take advantage of Au Bon Pain’s 9 o-clock 1/2 price pastries and park ourselves in the NorthEast Regional’s “Quiet Car.”

We watch the city lights pass by as we travel through the Boston ‘burbs and usually nod away before we get into Providence.  Sometimes we wake up at NYC or Philadelphia, but we live on a dirt road with stars to light us most nights of the year–it’s kind of fun to watch some bustle and see the urban side of life.

Around 8 a.m., we arrive in Fredericksburg, step off the train and take Fred (the local bus) or walk to her dorm, rested and not even thinking about gas, parking or traffic ahead!

…well, actually, I love being a citizen in a conglomeration of small towns. Huh?  Well, when you live in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire,  you live in all the towns around you, for what one town lacks, another provides and that’s how you make life work.

I live in Center Tuftonboro. Not to be confused with Tuftonboro Corner, Melvin Village or Mirror Lake, but when we go to town meeting for Tuftonboro, we all go together.  (Which we did a few weeks ago…another story in itself.)

But today, I love living in a small town because when the watch battery in your trusty Timex dies–as mine did a few days ago–you can walk downtown in Wolfeboro, see the proprietor of the local jewelry shop on the store’s front step, accuse him of closing early when you NEED a watch battery, then laugh at yourself with him (and the random fisherman passing the time of day on that front step) when you realize that you’re talking to him AFTER his store has closed.  Because your watch stopped because you NEED a battery which is why you wandered down to his shop in the first place.

But that’s not the “why I love living in a small town” part,  No,  I love living in a small town because the proprietor pocketed my watch so he could replace my battery when he got in the next day.  Then he took off his own watch–a big, fancy luxury timepiece– and tried to put it in my hand so that I wouldn’t be without a watch overnight.

I love living in a small town.

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