New England is Not for Sissies

It's surprising that the murder rate in Maine is not much, much higher. In 2014 there were just 25 homicides, and half of those were domestic disputes, with spouse shooting spouse. Good thing my husband is out of town so much because I personally can imagine going on a killing spree if it snows just one more day, which it surely will; in fact later this week another storm is predicted to dump more on the already sky-high piles of it surrounding our house. And then another after that. And this is only February and it's likely to snow until sometime in early April.

The thing is, it's hard to find anyone to actually shoot at since nobody goes outside, what with it being in the single digits most of the time. Also, I don't own a gun so that makes it even harder. Still, it's fun to fantasize, especially about killing our plow guy who is absolutely the worst but all the good ones were taken. (I see it as very Quentin Tarantino-esque, his spurting blood shooting up into the sky and landing artfully on the bright, white snow.) And when the weather gets nice and people do venture outdoors, they've all forgotten about the long months cooped up inside, knitting baby hats or whittling axe handles, and just go get some lobster and drag their boats out of storage and that's that -- winter over. Until next year when it's back. And it will be, before you know it.

The question I am currently grappling with is: Will I be here for it? I think not. I don't want to end up like Ethan Frome, my favorite fictional character from the novel of the same name. Here is how he is described early on: "There was something bleak and unapproachable in his face. And he was so stiffened and grizzled that I took him for an old man and was surprised to hear that he was not more than fifty-two. Guess he's been in Starkfield too many winters."

Ethan's fictional town was in Massachusetts, but that's just down the road a piece. Same thing. And I'm already older than he was, so who knows how grizzled I'll be if I stay here any longer. Looking in the mirror right now, it's evident I may have been here too many winters already.