Of Warm, Comfy Homes and Explosions

When you see other parts of the country you begin to appreciate just how different life can be, as we've adapted to the reality of life in places like Tuscon, Arizona or St. Augustine, Florida. They each have their peculiarities. I am originally from the northeast so I didn't expect a lot of difference when I moved to New Hampshire, and indeed, most of what I grew up with and saw as "normal" in my home state is transferable to New Hampshire: Snow shovel? Check. Hot chocolate? Check. Farm houses? Check. Wood-burning stoves? Check. Heavy, woolen socks? Check. You get the idea -- moving here didn't inspire much in the way of culture shock, certainly nothing compared to that very miserable summer I once spent in South Carolina. (<<< The two operative terms in that last sentence are "summer", and "South Carolina".) There are some differences, however, and I learned one of them when I was house-hunting here. Where I come from, there is plenty of top soil, often going down 40 feet or more. Bedrock is something you have to do lots of digging to see. New Hampshire, however, is the Granite State, which is one way of saying, "We don't need no stinkin' top soil."

Now, New Hampshire is a beautiful state and I'm not going to criticize its unpolished granite surface for even a moment. Still, one of the advantages of having, you know, some dirt and clay between you and bedrock is that you can bury stuff. Without having to use dynamite. One of the convenient ways this manifests back home is the ability to bury gas lines. There, most folks use natural gas to heat homes for their clothes dryers, stoves and hot water tanks. Here in New England, propane is prevalent -- fair enough. Supply and demand, and all that. However, as I discovered for the first time when house-hunting in NH, since it is very expensive to deliver propane by buried lines in the Granite State, they store the stuff in large tanks -- some 5 feet high -- which often just lean against your house. When I turned the corner at the first house we were visiting and saw this, my first reaction was along the lines of "OH MY GOD, THERE'S A BOMB LEANING AGAINST THE HOUSE!!" It turns out I was overreacting a bit, but it's something that still, many years later, makes me nervous. New Hampshirites who grew up with this are used to it and ignore it as just another fact of life, like so much of the technology we all depend on. Still, I'd swear sometimes I hear those things ticking......