For those of you who have not visited, Maine is, in many ways, an idyllic place to live. With its endless coastlines, beautiful mountains, and quaint villages it's really a perfect place to raise a family. And Mainers are acutely aware of their assets and fiercely proud of their state and their roots. As a person of Scottish heritage, I liken Mainers to the Scots: Rugged, proud, and rather disdainful of their neighbor to the South!
My husband and best friend are both Maine natives. This puts them into the elite class of Mainers and affords them acceptance without question throughout the state. I, on the other hand, am the sworn enemy of the native Mainer. I am from Massachusetts... or, as we are referred to locally, I am a "Masshole."
I can remember my husband's disappointment when he discovered my heritage on our first date. At the time, I thought he was teasing when he exclaimed, "But I thought you were a nice New Hampshire girl!" I now know better. As far as my husband is concerned, my Masshole status is a secret that must be protected and a shame to his family. At business dinners he has frequently told people that I am from New Hampshire. You see, to the native Mainer, New Hampshire is a huge step up from Massachusetts... A step up, but believe you me, it is still not Maine! Maine is the way life should be!
Now, while we do live within the borders of the Great State of Maine, we happen to live quite close to my old stomping ground in New Hampshire. On occasion, we will even leave utopia so that I can meet my long standing need to "live free or die." You see, while I was born in Massachusetts, my heart is in the seacoast area of New Hampshire.
In the later months of my pregnancies, these ventures south became a risky business. To my husband, it was paramount that his children be born in Maine so that he could bestow native status on them, thus negating the blight of their Masshole mother. Therefore, if I happened to go into labor while "away," his plan was to drive me over the border to ensure that his children receive their birthright. In the final weeks of my pregnancy with our son, we needed to run an errand in Massachusetts. As we crossed into "enemy territory," I remember requiring my husband to give me a verbal contract that he would take me to the NEAREST HOSPITAL if I were to go into labor, which, after hemming and hawing, he agreed to. Thankfully, we were safely back in Maine before my water broke twelve hours later, and twenty-three hours from that point, our son officially became a native!
As an outsider in a family of natives, I've been able to observe the Native Mainers within their own habitats, and I've made some striking discoveries. They can crack a lobster like nobody's business, a good majority really do answer questions with "ayuh," and they seem to be immune to the cold. It is not unusual to see a Native Mainer in a t-shirt in below freezing weather, and shorts are often broken out as soon as the temperature hits a balmy 40 degrees.
It is the tolerance to cold that sets me most apart from the Native Mainer. While I would be very happy moving down to Costa Rica and living in the glorious, tropical heat and humidity for the rest of my days, my husband lives for April snowstorms. Crazy!
Which brings me to the novel experience of the day... The weather today was cold, wet, and miserable, as it often can be this time of year and I was busy feeling sorry for myself while my husband celebrated. In a futile attempt to cope, I pulled out all the stops... I listened to Caliente on my satellite radio... I turned up the heat... I drank hot beverages and snuggled under blankets... but nothing was working. The reality of the weather proved to be too much. Just when I was about to give up hope, I remembered that I had bought myself a tropical treat at the store: Orange MANGO juice.
Nothing says tropical weather, monkeys swinging by in trees, and a very happy Christy like a mango! While it did not take the cold away, it did remind me that sunnier days are coming and gave just the shot in the arm that we Massholes need when living outside of our natural habitat.
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