changing leaves

So mellow and relaxed. A weekend in the mountains tends to have that kind of effect on people.

Left the city on Friday night after fighting I-93 Northbound traffic all the way home from work. After a stressful day where the only meal I had were the millions of Starburst candies that I had brought for my gang at work, but ended up devouring the majority of myself, Lily and I left for Joho's place - our meeting point for the weekend's adventures. Upon arrival, we had warm pasta and buffalo wings waiting for us on the table. I love Joho anticipates my needs and just takes care of things before I even ask.

With D in tow, we drive up to New Hampshire - the first really long drive that my new (and as-yet unnamed) RAV-4 has been on since I got it. The drive consists of a lot of highway, some country roads, and then a gravel road, then a bushy, unkempt road, leading up to a family cabin built by Joho's dad back before she was even born. A long drive behind us, we unpack the car and dust off the cobwebs, wipe the countertops, and start a fire in the wood oven before settling in for the night.

In the morning, D makes omelets for breakfast, while we toast bagels and slice fruit. cooking on a gas stove and washing dishes afterwards with a gas stove and a cabin without running water has its challenges, but we quickly grow accustomed to the way of the woods. We hike around the surrounding area marvelling at the peaceful serenity of the mountains, admire the changing colours of the autumn leaves, and breathe in the crisp, cold air.

Walking along the gravel road, we happen upon the neighbours and decide to pay a visit. It turns out they are harvesting apples from the orchard, so the four of us decide to lend a hand and spend the afternoon picking (and sampling) the fruit from the trees. Zealous to a fault, we fill two large crates (approximately 20 bushels each) before we are told to stop. We then head over to the barn where we sample some of the cider that is being pressed.

In return for our help, we are treated to pizzas and beer on the field in front of the house, where we sit cross legged on the grass and share stories about ourselves. The picnic lunch is soon followed by homemade apple pie accompanied by ice cream, and we are in heaven. The remainder of the afternoon consists of napping in the sun, climbing the big old crabapple tree in an attempt to secure a rope around one of the branches so we can shake the fruit off, and picking some more apples to bring home for baking.

Making a meal of soup, an evening game of Settlers, trips to the stream for water, star gazing in the pitch black evening and admiring the stardust, hiking to the top of Mount Prospect, and a visit into the town of Whitefield rounded off the trip. The trip was so relaxing - just being around nature, being away from work and the busyness of everyday life in the city (including my laptop, which I surprisingly decided at the last moment not to bring with me), and being with good friends made it that much more enjoyable.

Today, I scratched the bumper of my car against a concrete column in the garage, trying to avoid grazing the Audi parked next to me; missed a deadline at work; and got an e-mail from my landlord telling me that my electric bills have been sent to her and need to be paid, but I'm not as stressed out about it as I normally am.

Maybe tomorrow. Today, I'm still relying on my memories of the weekend to keep me sane.