We usually dally along the way to New Hampshire and arrive in early June. This year we got an early start, arriving the first day that camp opened, May 9. We weren’t the only early arrivals. Other cottages had a car parked in front; a few had their carports up and some lots showed signs of industrious, leaf removal efforts.
The trees showed faint green tips but mostly the woods looked bare and brown. I could see the neighboring cottages which usually the thick greenery screened from view.
Arrival day was sunny but windy enough to encourage me to wear a sweatshirt. Ideal for toting in our belongings and the initial supply of groceries. Inside, we stripped away the dust covers and stowed away the clothing and food.
We checked for any leaks or pest invasions, but everything seemed fine. Of course, the smoke alarms beeped their demands for new batteries. That necessitated a quick run to the closest store which charged outrageous prices for this camp necessity. I mentally noted to bring a supply of all sizes of batteries next year.
We had the usual struggle with Time-Warner to get the TV programming and Internet up-and-running. The evening turned chilly, so the furnace went to work, and I layered the bed with a thick comforter. So, here we are, snug at camp with the Red Sox game on TV and spaghetti cooking on the stove.