Life on Earth
Posted: April 28th, 2009 | Author: kristen from motherload | Filed under: Daddio, Little Rhody, Miss Kate | 3 Comments »Kate: “Do we live on a planet called Earth?”
Me: “Yes.”
Kate: “Does Grandpa live on Earth too?”
Me: “Yes.”
Kate: “Where?”
Me: “Well Grandpa lives in the USA, like us. But he lives on the East Coast and we live on the West Coast.”
Kate: “I want to live where Grandpa lives.”
Me: “Why?”
Kate: “Because I love him.”
Now, as my handy dandy What I’m Reading widget shows, I’ve just started in on a book called Sudden Sea: The Great Hurricane of 1938. It takes place in my sweet wee home state of Rhode Island. And the rich silly Yankee history and descriptions of natural beauty—along with the fact that summer (a season Little Rhody does proud) is right around the corner—are making me jones hard for a big dose of home.
They’re also giving me real estate lust for a rambling ancient beauty of an ocean-side home in, say, Jamestown, or maybe Little Compton. Big enough to house plenty of guests, casual enough to keep the doors wide open and to welcome whatever sand gets dragged in. But stately enough to clean up nice too.
This fantasy includes us spend summers there, of course, and retreating to Cali when the skies turn gray.
Anyway, it’s probably obvious that I don’t need much encouragement to find myself in these Rhode Island reveries. But then I start reading this book, and Kate—my little pleasure-seeking alter ego—goes off about living too far away from Grandpa, and I’m pretty much done for.
Weighing in with a buzzkill: the taxes on my charming waterfront home in Barrington skyrocketed from $44K when we sold it not quite two years ago to nearly $70K! That’s a lot of clams for the “privilege” of living in a state that’s teetering dangerously on the verge of bankruptcy, whose schools consistently receive a “D” on a national level, and where people honestly try to compare a subpar suburban stripmall hibachi joint to Tao.
For us, the only two remaining redeeming qualities are a beloved Grandpa and a week of summer days on the beach.
thankfully property tax doesn’t figure into my fantasy life. nor does the sad state of RI’s public schools (i never had much faith in the concept of free education anyway, though in a couple years i might *have* to change my tune).
but sweet corn from a roadside stand? body surfing in the warm atlantic ocean? del’s lemonade? even hearing some really good bad RI accents?
oh, and let’s not forget my beach-front summer mansion packed with friends (maybe a nanny or two) and cocktails on the deck.
*that’s* what i’m tawkin’ about.
Alright, alright. It would be wicked good to visit your fantasy beach-front summer mansion and make Al Forno’s Corn & Tomato Salad together with sweet corn from a roadside stand and just-picked tomatoes, smell the salty sea and drink a Stoli-spiked Del’s. I’m in!