Drool Flood

As he has almost every other time we’ve flown, Oliver’s developed a wee cold in the days after our flight from Seattle to Manchester. The result is a flood of drool, but otherwise few other ill effects.

We are settling in to New England lakeside life nicely, finding places to buy bread and milk, discovering where the coffee and ice cream are good and so on. And, of course, negotiating the proper balance between Quality Family Time and Quality Work Time.

We found a “Type II” PFD for Oliver today (at Wal-Mart — $7.50) that claims to keep the infant head out of the water. Tomorrow we’ll try it out. Lifejackets and PFDs here in the USA all have a very helpful Coast Guard brochure attached to them, when aided us greatly in choosing the right one for Oliver; we would do well to emulate this in Canada.

It’s the middle of the off-year election season here in New Hampshire and, with the Governorship up in both New Hampshire and Massachusetts, the television is full of attack ads, counter attack ads, “we promise not to attack” ads and so on. Every street corner is festooned with placards, talk radio is full of politics, and the papers are full of opinion page opinions on school taxes, income taxes and property taxes.

Tomorrow we’re off to northern New Hampshire to rendezvous with my old friend Stephen Southall who is being dumped in Littleton by his burly athletic buddies in transit from Newfoundland to Peterborough, Ontario. Maximum Fun will ensure, I’m sure.

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