Sunday, May 27, 2007

New places

I was singing "New York, New Yoooorrrrk!". Then I remembered we're in Massachusetts.

After Niagara Falls we spent a night in Schenectady, New York. I've heard of it before but now I can say I've been there. Very pretty and very green. The people were very nice. But at Niagara Falls at the KOA campground the people were real grumps. We didn't like it there. The girls at the front desk never cracked a smile in four days and one was rude to me when I was checking in. I took too long getting my glasses out of my purse and I guess it was too much for her to wait one minute. If only she were my child. Boy, I'd give her an earful.

So we drove through New York, the whole thing, on the 90 East which is a turnpike and now we're in Massachusetts. Turnpikes. I always wondered, what is a turnpike. Well, what it is is a nice, smooth, straight, well-maintained road that you must pay money to drive on every single time you drive on it. I call it highway robbery. It's very un-American I say. Surely not what Eisenhower had in mind. And if you don't take a toll road but you want to go across the state, you'd have to go willy nilly all over the place on other roads. The toll roads cost us a hundred dollars. Even more because we haven't paid all of it. We mistakenly got in the EZ Pay line and drove through but that's for people who have a prepaid ticket to drive through. The state is sending ours to us in the mail. I just hope there's no fine along with it. I almost thought we weren't going to Nova Scotia on account of those toll roads - my husband complained so much.

The funniest strange thing has happened. I bought new pajamas and the top is a bright pink tank. I never buy pink. I buy lots of black, brown, maroon, but no pink. The thing is, this pink top looks fab with my face. What to do. Change my world? I don't know. They say (they) that as women age, their complexions change, and jewel tones look better than muted shades. I don't know what I'm going to do about it yet. But something.

We maneuvered the trailer into the tightest spot ever tonight and had lots of help doing it. The people here, they're sooo nice. It's a very working class place, filled to the brim with campers. I hear young people (there are tons of children here) at a campfire sing along at the moment. I hear loud laughter of men and women. Dogs barking. When my husband came into the trailer after we were all set up this afternoon he said, "Looks like a lot of seedy people around here." And I shushed him. I told him I knew a-plenty of supposedly upper crust people who were not nice one bit and you can never judge a book by its cover. We have an impressionable young one listening to everything too. Later, he said that it was exactly the kind of place where he'd have camped with his own family when he was growing up. It's true. There are people here who you know work hard, some not of course, but many struggle day to day, month by month and everyone wants to have fun for the holiday. There are quite a number of seasonals. Seasonals are folks, families, who reside in the campground full time. I like it here. Memorial Day is one of the worst days to be traveling and looking for a campsite on the same day. Duh. We're lucky we're not camping in the parking lot of Wal-Mart.

When I washed my pajamas yesterday the bottoms shrunk. The pink top still looks great but now I have high waters. Everyone knows, high waters are the kiss of death. I may as well wear a sign that says "Liliana is a dork." I have no respect for clothing that can't stand high heat from a laundromat dryer.

Yesterday I saw a newborn fawn. It was along the side of the road in the tall, green grass. Its spots were so white and it looked like it could have been born that day, or the day before. It couldn't have been a week old. It wobbled on its four legs in the grass, watching a man who stood before it taking pictures with a pocket camera. We drove by at 60 mph in our truck. Couldn't stop since we were pulling the trailer. But even if I could stop, I wouldn't have stopped. I only hope the guy didn't touch the fawn. When we were in Idaho I talked with a woman who took care of abandoned fawns. It happened all too often that people came across a fawn and assumed it was abandoned when it was not. The mothers leave them while they go graze. She said the worst thing humans can do is touch a fawn because then the mother will refuse to care for it. I couldn't bring myself to photograph a baby that's afraid, and worse, roust it from its safe place. To take a photo like that would make me feel bad every time I looked at it.

I wish that man had not stopped on the interstate to do that.

Today I photographed a domineering swan who didn't want anyone in the pond with him. Nothing really turned out but it was it was exciting to see. He was magnificent. But then, we were on the other side of him and saw his leg sticking straight out behind him. I think he broke it and it healed that way. He's full of pep in spite of it.

I hope we will have Internet where we're going. We're in the eastern deciduous forest and that's bad for setting up the satellite. Tonight we paid three dollars for a very poor connection and it's only on one computer - which is not mine.