The bitter cold currently holding so much of the country in a seeming death grip brought back memories of our dramatic move from the mild climes of New Jersey to the harsh winters of New Hampshire in December of 1970.
For three months, we rented an older, very large house on N. Main Street in Wolfeboro, N.H. Overnight, the first night of our living there, the new studded nylon tires we had brought in Jersey to help our Ford Country Sedan deal with the snow developed flat spots frozen into them because the car was not garaged, making driving the car feel as if one was riding a horse at full gallop. Within a week, the pipes in the “basement” froze. Within a month, we had an ice dam on the northwest side of the house which soon had water running down the inside walls of the bathroom.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll relate these tales of woe, and others, interspersed with the usual updates of what I know and don’t know about the Stacey Burns murder case.
If you live or have ever lived in a climate with fierce cold, you might appreciate these true stories of New Jersey neophytes adapting to being cold all the time.
Hope you have a happy new year!