Wednesday night, we drive from Long Island to the Boston suburbs and spend the evening with the Grandparents. The older I get, the more I realize that the best parts of me come from my Grandfather. My wife might argue that my sense of humor and stubbornness come from him too, but I think it’s a fair trade.
Thursday we are NH bound. The folks who bring you “Live Free or Die” are fond of 50 cent tolls. We drove by mile after mile of beautiful countryside displaying nature’s fireworks, the fall foliage, in spite of the rain. We spent the afternoon wandering quaint towns like North Conway and Silver Lake and the evening enjoying the fireplace at the Cabernet Inn.
Friday we take a ride on one of the last operating steam trains in the US on the Conway Scenic Railway. Perhaps it was due to the rain, but we had the first class Parlor car Gertrude Emma to ourselves and spent a good deal of time on the back porch marveling at the spectacular, if damp, scenery. There are some sounds that make you smile no matter what. The sound of a steam train whistle is one of them, as it clickety clacks through the countryside.